#but if anyone wants them anyway lemme know x

[reddorkredemption]

More rdr2 Jack gifs for anyone who wanted them. :) (ft. Mary-Beth <3)

[alinathinkstoomuch]

WILL YOU BE MY FAKE FIANCÉ?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader summary: you find yourself in a sticky situation - you need a fiancé asap and the stern looking man at the bar seems to suffice. warnings: um reader thinks hotch is serial killer at one point, reader is actually really funny (LOL i was giggling so bad writing her dialogue), readers friends suck, the usual banter and chem word count: 3.8k

✧ masterlist

lemme know if y'all would want this as a mini series?? pls say yes because i had too much fun writing this!!!

It was silly, really. Actually, it was downright stupid. You had imagined a hundred different ways this conversation could go, each one more cringe-inducing than the last. And yet, here you were, en route to dinner with a group of women you still, for some inexplicable reason, referred to as your ‘friends.’

Except they weren’t friends. Not really. More like a collection of high school mean girls who had swapped lockers for brunch reservations, but still thrived on competition and thinly veiled judgment. Why you had continued to entertain their company remained one of life’s greatest mysteries. Maybe it was because some tiny, stubborn part of you still felt the need to prove yourself to them.

Old habits die hard.

Which was absurd, considering you had everything you’d ever wanted. A career you were proud of, a gorgeous apartment and a dog so beautiful he could model for Ralph Lauren. And yet, none of it mattered because you were missing one thing.

A love life.

Or rather, you had the start of one – an engagement, even. But much like a designer bag left too close to a lit candle, it went up in flames almost immediately.

And because self-preservation was clearly not your strong suit, you had told your ‘friends’ about the engagement… conveniently omitting the part where it had ended as quickly as it began.

No love lost there. He was a dick anyway.

Which brought you to now – marching toward an intimate jazz bar, running through all the ways you could break the news.

“Hey, ladies! So fun fact I am actually not engaged! But you were all right, turns out I’m just a walking red flag with great hair. Cheers!”

Yeah. That would go over well.

You pushed open the door to the jazz bar, smoothing your dress down and forcing your most dazzling, I totally have my life together smile. The inside was dimly lit, the hum of conversation mixing with the smooth sound of a saxophone in the background.

“Hi! There should be a reservation for under Veronica?” you told the hostess, who checked the list before glancing up apologetically.

“There’s no one here from your party yet, but I can show you to your table?”

Perfect. Just perfect. You nodded, following her to a sleek little table near the bar. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through texts until one popped up.

Veronica: Can’t wait to meet the fiancé! We’re running late. Be there soon! Xo.

Oh. No. No, no, no.

Your stomach did a dramatic, Oscar-worthy drop as panic set in. Your palms went clammy. Your perfectly planned exit strategies all disintegrated like cheap mascara in the rain.

You needed a fiancé. Now.

Your eyes darted wildly around the room, scanning the clientele for anyone remotely stupid – or kind – enough to rope into your plan. But instead, your gaze landed on someone who definitely didn’t look stupid. He looked serious, almost too serious. But he was alone, and that was good enough.

You shot up from your seat, heels clacking as you made a beeline toward him with the determination of a woman with everything on the line.

“Hi, hello,” you blurted out, earning a slow, assessing glance from deep brown eyes. “I need a favour. A huge, ridiculous, I-will-owe-you-my-soul kind of favour.”

“Sorry?”

“I just – I know this is insane, but I need you to pretend to be my fiancé for like, one hour. Maybe two. It’s a long story, and there is an actual pack of wolves arriving here any second, and if they smell fear, I am done for.” You clasped your hands together. “Please, please, please. I will do anything.”

He stared at you like he was debating calling security. Or possibly the nearest psychiatric facility.

“Everything alright?” Another voice joined. An older man, dressed impeccably clapped your very reluctant target on the back.

“I just need to borrow your friend, pretty please?” you said, turning to the newcomer with the kind of desperate charm that had gotten you out of speeding tickets before. “I promise I will buy you the most expensive bottle of scotch this bar serves. You drink scotch, right?”

The older man’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Oh, I love her,” he announced, before turning to his friend. “Take him. I was just leaving.”

Your supposed fiancé-to-be let out a slow breath, clearly reconsidering every choice that led him to this moment.

You beamed. “See? It’s fate.”

“This is – I –”

The man looked genuinely at a loss for words, which based on the suit he was wearing, was not a common occurrence.

“Come on, Hotch,” the older man grinned, clapping him on the back again. “Help the lady out. And I cannot wait to hear all about it on Monday.” He turned to you, extending a hand. “David Rossi.”

You shook his hand, relieved that at least one of them was enjoying this. “Nice to meet you, David. And I am really sorry for ruining your evening with your friend.”

“Oh, sweetheart, are you kidding? This is better than my evening. This is entertainment.” He winked at you before tossing a final smirk at Hotch. “Be good to your fiancée.”

With that, he strolled off, leaving you alone with the man you had just kidnapped into romance fraud.

You turned back to him. “So,” you said brightly. “Fiancé.”

He stared at you, face unreadable. “This is insane.”

“Yes, well, so is spending two-thousand dollars on a handbag, and I do that regularly. Now, come on.” You reached for his wrist and pulled him toward the table. “So Hotch is your name? Kind of… odd, don’t you think? Or is it a nickname? I don’t really have many nicknames – well, aside from what my ex-fiancé used to call me, but I’ll save you the details.”

Hotch exhaled through his nose, looking like he was already regretting this. “Do you do this often?”

“Fake engagements? No, not really. Actual engagements? Also no, considering how the last one went.” You sighed dramatically. “But you’d think after everything, I’d have at least one decent dating story. Instead, I have an ex who took our wedding fund and bought a motorcycle. A motorcycle, Hotch. Like, what exactly am I supposed to do with that?”

“He took your money?”

“And my sanity, which gives me the right to act this way in public.”

Before he could respond, a chorus of excited squeals erupted from the entrance.

“Oh my God! There she is!”

You moved to stand in front of Hotch. “I will do whatever you want me to. If you need me to kill someone and hide the body, I will literally be your girl – just please go with this.” You tugged at his tie, smoothing it down in a rush. “I’ll take the lead, you just look pretty.”

“That’s not usually how this works –”

“Well, Hotch, welcome to the world of desperate women. Now smile like you love me.”

He didn’t have the chance to argue as Veronica and her entourage descended upon you like a pack of well-dressed hyenas, eyes dancing with curiosity and suspicion.

“Finally! We were starting to think you made him up,” Veronica teased, her eyes scanning Hotch with an intensity that made even you nervous. “So? Introduce us!”

You plastered on your most graciously fake smile and looped an arm through Hotch’s, feeling the tension in his muscles as he clearly contemplated whether this was his personal hell. “Alright here he is! Meet H–”

“Aaron,” he cut you off smoothly, extending a hand toward Veronica.

She barely glanced at it before swatting it away. She then took a step forward, pulling him into a hug which he stiffly endured like someone who had never been voluntarily embraced in his life.

“Oh, honey, we don’t do handshakes here,” she purred, clinging for a second too long before releasing him. “You’re so handsome.”

You jumped in before Veronica could try something ridiculous like feeling his biceps.

“Right?” you grinned, linking your arm through his again. “Total catch. It’s why I snatched him up so fast.”

“And how did that happen?” one of the other girls asked as the group drifted toward the table.

Hotch, mercifully, was quick on the uptake. “She quite literally crashed into me – spilled her coffee all over my suit.”

“Oh my God, that’s so her,” another girl gasped, and you nodded rapidly.

“It was tragic,” you added, dramatically placing a hand on his arm. “The suit did not make it.”

As you neared the table, you reached for the seat, but before you could pull it out, Hotch’s hand brushed yours, stopping you. Instead, he pulled the chair out for you before you could protest.

Was he… really committing to the bit? Or was this just ingrained in his perfect gentleman DNA?

Before you could process it, the table erupted into ooohs and ahhhs like a live studio audience.

Thankfully, you caught a reprieve as the girls turned their attention to the wine list, debating the merits of a bold red versus a crisp white. Taking advantage of the moment, you lifted your own menu to shield your face and glanced at Hotch through the gap.

“I am so sorry,” you mouthed.

“You should be,” he murmured back, just low enough for only you to hear. But there was no bite to his words – if anything, you swore you caught the ghost of a smirk.

“So, don’t keep us waiting in suspense,” Veronica chirped. “Tell us about the engagement! How did it happen? All we got was a text saying you were engaged and a picture of your ring –” She paused, eyes narrowing as they moved to your hand. You followed her line of sight instinctively, cursing internally when you realised the problem.

Your fingers were adorned with rings – statement pieces, dainty bands – but notably none of them were an engagement ring.

Hotch, of course, noticed immediately. He exhaled lightly through his nose, like he was already preparing to clean up your mess.

“Oh,” you laughed, waving a dismissive hand, “I took it off to get it resized, you know how it is.”

Veronica’s brow lifted. “Resized?”

“Yeah, it was a little loose,” you rushed out, the lie forming faster than you could think it through. “Didn’t want to risk it falling down the sink or –”

“It wasn’t loose,” Hotch interjected once more and you froze.

Every pair of eyes at the table snapped to him.

“It wasn’t?” you echoed, unsure if he was about to throw you under the bus or save you from getting flattened by it.

Hotch leaned back, one arm casually draping over the back of your chair as if this was just another Friday night for him. “No,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “She just can’t stand the feeling of something on her finger when she sleeps. She takes it off every night, leaves it on the nightstand.”

Oh.

Oh.

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Not only had he just handed you an ironclad excuse, but he had done it so effortlessly that even you almost believed it.

The table collectively melted.

“That is so sweet,” one of the girls sighed.

“That makes sense,” Veronica finally conceded, though her eyes lingered on Hotch. She didn’t seem completely sold yet. “So, how did you propose? Give us all the details.”

Another reprieve – just as the waitress arrived to take your drink and appetizer orders. You had never been so grateful for a poorly timed interruption, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the question would be forgotten by the time she walked away.

It wasn’t.

The second the waitress disappeared, Veronica’s eyes flicked right back to you and Hotch, expectant.

 “You tell it better, sweetheart,” he encouraged, that same miniscule smirk making an appearance.

Oh, he was enjoying this too much.

“Well,” you started, buying yourself a second. “It was…unexpected.”

Hotch nodded solemnly, as if recalling a life-changing event. “Completely.”

You shot him a look before continuing. “We were on a trip –”

“A weekend getaway,” Hotch supplied easily.

“Right, exactly,” you said, catching on. “And it was… romantic?”

“Cold,” he corrected. “Snow everywhere.”

You blinked at him. Snow? Was this man just winging it?

“It was freezing,” you emphasized, rolling with it. “And I remember thinking, God, this would be the worst time to propose, because my fingers are so cold, I might drop the ring.”

The table giggled in delight, completely enthralled, hanging onto every word.

Hotch exhaled through his nose like this was all very serious business. “Which you nearly did.”

Your brows shot up. “Right! Yes, because I was so shocked.”

“You cried,” Hotch added.

You nearly choked. “I – what?”

He turned to you, gaze softening ever so slightly, voice dipping just enough to sell the sincerity. “You cried.”

And just like that, the table melted again.

“Oh my God,” one of the girls whispered, clutching her chest.

“Like, happy tears?” another asked, eyes wide with wonder.

Hotch’s lips quirked at the corner, and damn it, you had never wanted to throw your drink at someone so badly. “Of course.”

You forced a dreamy sigh, resisting the urge to stomp on his foot under the table. “I mean… obviously.”

Veronica tapped a manicured nail against her glass, eyes narrowing. “And what did he say?”

Hotch turned to you, expression a mystery, before casually resting his hand over yours. The move was so smooth, so convincing, that it had the exact opposite effect – it made your heeled foot find his shoe under the table, pressing down with just enough force to say don’t even think about it.

“I think I said something along the lines of…” He paused, eyes fixed on you. “If you need me to kill anyone and bury the body, I’m your man. Marry me, sweetheart.’”

You stiffened, your foot pressing down harder, while the table erupted in delighted gasps and squeals.

“Oh my God,” Veronica practically screamed.

“That is so romantic,” one of the girls swooned, gripping the arm of the woman next to her.

“I cannot with you two,” another giggled, fanning herself like this was the greatest love story ever told.

Meanwhile, you were trying very hard not to commit an actual murder.

You ripped your hand free from his grasp and covered your mouth with it, forcing what looked like a lovesick reaction but was actually a barely contained threat.

“What the hell?” you whispered between your teeth, smiling like the perfect doting fiancée.

Hotch, infuriatingly unbothered, leaned in. “You said to go with it.”

Your foot pressed down again. “I meant like a normal person, not a psychopath,” you hissed.

“Ugh,” Veronica sighed dreamily. “This is disgustingly adorable.”

You turned back to the group, still smiling, but if looks could kill, your fiancé wouldn’t have made it out of this dinner alive.

For the rest of the evening, you definitely had too much wine, and as the night stretched on, the conversation finally drifted away from you.

Instead, your so-called friends delved into their usual habits – gossiping about people they hadn’t seen since college, subtly competing over whose husband had the most prestigious job and complaining about their high-maintenance lives.

You nodded, smiled, threw in a well-timed oh, totally where necessary, but mostly, you just kept drinking. Hotch, meanwhile, remained the picture of polite disinterest, responding when needed as he sipped his bourbon. If he was suffering, he didn’t show it – except for the occasional glance in your direction, as if silently asking are you sure these are your friends?

By the time dessert rolled around, you were exhausted from the performance. Thankfully, your friends were equally buzzed, giggling and snapping selfies before finally, finally deciding it was time to call it a night.

Outside the restaurant, the group exchanged dramatic goodbyes, air-kissing and promising to “do this again soon” (lies, all of them), before disappearing into cabs and sleek black cars.

And just like that, you and Hotch were alone.

“You know,” you sighed, rifling through your purse in search of your phone. “I would apologize again for this, but I think if anyone owes an apology, it’s you.”

Hotch, standing beside you, hands in his pockets, merely raised a brow. “Me?”

You looked up at him with a glare. “Yes, you. You didn’t make this awful evening any easier. Snow? Really? I hate the snow.”

“I might be way out of line saying this, but you seem too good to consider that group of women your friends. Especially ones you feel you have to impress.”

“Impress them? That’s not what I was doing. I just –” You huffed, crossing your arms. “I grew up with them, and they’ve managed to make my life –” You stopped yourself, pressing your lips together before shaking your head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Hotch studied you for a moment, like he was picking apart every little detail. “I think it matters more than you’re willing to admit.”

You forced a laugh, throwing a hand in the air. “Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to care about it. You’re free. No more fake engagement, no more ridiculous stories, no more Marry me, sweetheart nonsense.”

His lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he tilted his head toward the street. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

You didn’t protest, abandoning the search for your phone and following your former fake fiancé back to his car.

Once inside, you rattled off your address as Hotch pulled it up on the satnav. Settling into the seat, you flipped down the visor mirror, swiping at the smudged mascara under your eyes.

“Do you have any tissues?” you asked, glancing over as Hotch reversed out of the parking lot.

“Check the glovebox.”

You reached over, popping it open and immediately froze. Because nestled between some paperwork and an actual box of tissues, sat a gun.

You yanked your hand back so fast you nearly dislocated your shoulder. “Uh. What the hell, Hotch?”

He barely spared you a glance. “Relax.”

“Relax?” you repeated, voice pitching higher. “There’s a gun in your glovebox! Oh my God. Are you – are you a criminal? Did I just spend an entire evening pretending to be engaged to a mobster? Jesus Christ, I really know how to pick them – I mean, you’re making my actual ex-fiancé look like a saint!”

“Check under the gun,” Hotch instructed, voice impossibly calm.

“Oh no, no, no, mister.” You flailed a hand in his direction. “You are not fooling me into touching your murder weapon so you can get my fingerprints on it and frame me for whatever crime you have committed using it! Please stop the car before I jump out of it. I swear to God, I will tuck and roll.”

Hotch exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face like he was deeply reconsidering his life choices. Then, with no ceremony, he flicked on the turn signal and pulled over to the curb.

Your heart plummeted. “Oh my God,” you whispered, pressing yourself back against the seat. “You are a criminal. You’re going to kill me. This is how I die.”

Hotch shot you a look, utterly unimpressed. Then, without a word, he leaned over –

You squeaked, pressing yourself further into the seat. “Oh my God – please don’t kill me –I haven’t been to Paris yet, and I still haven’t figured out how to fold a fitted sheet –”

His hand bypassed you completely, reaching into the glove box. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled something from beneath the gun and held it up to your face.

An FBI badge.

You stared at it. Then at him. Then back at the badge.

“Oh.” A pause. “Well, this is awkward.”

Hotch dropped the badge into your lap, but you immediately picked it up, flipping it over, holding it up to the light, just in case it was fake. There had to be fakes out there. You had gotten a police outfit that came with a badge for Halloween once.

Hotch watched your scrutiny with the patience of a saint. “Are you done?”

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “Okay, so in my defence, you could’ve led with that instead of just telling me to dig under a loaded firearm.”

“I assumed you were capable of following basic instructions.”

“That was your first mistake,” you muttered, still recovering from the emotional rollercoaster that was the last five minutes. You inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to your chest. “Well. This has been a night.”

Hotch shook his head, pulling back onto the road as you snapped closed his badge and placed it back in the glovebox, avoiding the gun like poison.

“So, FBI, huh?” you finally said, breaking the quiet.

“That’s what the badge says.”

You couldn’t help it – you laughed. A real, actual laugh for the first time this entire ridiculous, chaotic evening. And once you started, you couldn’t stop. It bubbled out of you, unrestrained, until you were clutching your stomach, gasping for breath, sure your mascara was completely smudged from the tears streaking down your face.

“Are you alright?”

You wheezed, waving a hand in his direction. “No! No, I am not! Because I just spent an entire evening fake-engaged to an FBI agent, and the first thing I said to you was – and I quote – ‘If you ever need to kill someone and bury the body, I’m your girl.’”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever had that kind of proposition in my entire career.”

You snorted, barely containing another wave of laughter. “That’s comforting. Truly.”

He smirked, eyes still on the road. “Though, I’ll admit—it’s one of the more memorable introductions I’ve had.”

“Oh, great. So I’m going to be a story you tell people?”

“Most definitely.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Fantastic. Just what I needed, to be the punchline of an FBI dinner party.”

“Don’t worry,” Hotch said dryly. “I’ll leave out the part where you almost jumped out of a moving vehicle.”

You peeked at him between your fingers. “Gee, thanks.”

A silence settled over the car and eventually Hotch slowed to a stop in front of your building shifting into park. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel before he glanced at you.

“Well… this has been… a very unique experience.” Your hand found the door handle, but you didn’t move. You weren’t quite ready to step back into reality just yet.

Hotch nodded. “It has.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep up the act? I think Veronica was in love with you.”

“Do you want to keep up the act? Ten minutes ago, you were convinced I was a serial killer.”

“Well, technically, I thought you were a mobster. There’s a difference.”

Hotch tilted his head. “And now?”

You let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back against the seat. “Now? I think you might actually be worse.”

“Worse?”

You turned toward him, deadpan. “You’re FBI. Which means you probably know every loophole in the legal system. You could absolutely commit crimes and get away with it.”

Hotch let out a laugh, shaking his head. “And yet here I am, still just giving you a ride home.”

You placed a hand over your heart. “I appreciate that. Really.”

He smiled, his fingers still drumming lightly against the steering wheel. Another moment of silence passed before he nodded toward your building. “You should go before your neighbours start wondering why you’re sitting in a car with a strange man.”

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest. “How dare you? We’re engaged, remember?”

Hotch chuckled. “Not anymore.”

You clicked your tongue, reaching for the door handle again. “Shame. I was really looking forward to planning the wedding.”

“We’d have to agree on a season first. You hate the snow.”

You groaned. “I knew that was going to come back to haunt me.” Shaking your head, you pushed the door open and stepped out, turning back one last time before shutting it. “Well, Aaron Hotchner, thank you for entertaining my craziness.”

“Anytime.”

You gave him a small wave before shutting the door and making your way toward your apartment building. At the top of the steps, you hesitated, glancing back just in time to see his taillights disappearing down the street. And in that moment, you weren’t sure what you felt.

Was he someone you’d spend the rest of your life hoping never to run into again?

Or someone you’d regret not giving your number to?

dividers by cafekitsune

[jjsloverre]

bed- j.m

bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader

in which… jj takes sweethearts virginity and finally gives her the love nobody else could— or she wouldn’t allow anyone else to give her.

warnings: cursing, smut, p in v (wrap it up) oral (female!receiving) praise kink, size kink, aftercare all that stuff!

________________________________________

you didn’t know how you two got to this conversation. jj was talking about his horrible sex life. “this shit sucks baby, i just want some good pussy!” he complained he secretly wish he’d have yours and yours only. but he knew it would only be a fantasy.

“maybe you should fuck every girl you lay your eyes on jj. anyway this dude wanted to have sex with me and he was being a total creep about it, like why does everyone wanna take a girls virginity and abandon them? some crazy shit i tell you!”

“y’know i wouldn’t abandon you?” jj said softly. you scoffed, knowing your best friend was a total fuck boy and you didn’t believe him one bit. “you know i love you? i love you tons but you are the type of boy to hit and dip and you know it.”

“you’re different mama, i promise that..” he massaged your thighs, something that wasn’t out of the ordinary, jj was a touchy guy, nobody could deny that. “i’d cater to you. you’re not some fuck toy to me.” you looked at him weirdly. “so every other girl is?”

he laughed, realizing you were right. he loved when you put him in his place, it always secretly turned him on. “no baby, that’s just a one night stand.”

“exactly what i mean jj! no man is about to make me a one night stand and potentially a baby mama!”

“fair enough sweetheart, cmon lemme show you how much i’d cater to you.” you shake your head no. “i don’t believe you, and you’re not gonna do me like you do all those other girls!”

“let’s make a deal.”

“what’s the deal?” you ask.

“i make love to you— not fuck you, love making and i make you feel things you’ve never felt before. if i prove you wrong, you make me my favorite meal.”

“and if you prove me wrong?” he held his hand out. “i’ll come over everyday and do your chores. sound like a deal?”

“fine, deal.”

“fuck yeah! alright lay down!”

“you’re getting too excited maybank, i am not the first girl you’ve done this with. and you better not have any diseases!”

“i wear a condom princess, i don’t catch anything or get anybody pregnant. do you want me to grab a condom from john b’s house real quick? i’ll be fast so you don’t have to wait and shit—“ you quickly cut him off so he could shut up.

“hush jj and let’s just— get this over with..” he quickly gets on top of you, kissing your neck teasingly. “don’t be nervous, it’s just me, just like it’s always been…” he speaks as he takes your clothes off, his eyes focused on your glistening pussy.

“are you nervous cause you’re fuckin’ drippin for me?” he slips one finger in, feeling your walls clench around his finger. “fuck you’re tight.. my dick is gonna love this…”

you whimper at the feeling, jj quickly pulls his fingers out when he realizes your tears. “baby it’s okay, did that hurt?” you shook your head no and wipe your tears. “it felt good jayj, it was just.. a lot at first.” he nodded. “alright so, first i’m just gonna eat your pussy how does that sound? you’ve gotten eaten out before right?” you smile. “by you jj.”

he couldn’t believe he almost forgot, you guys did exchange giving head a few months ago for the first time experience. “yeah so, it’ll be good i promise. ok! lay down, relax, and i’ll enjoy my snack!”

you smile at his enthusiasm, the boy that was about to be tongue deep inside you; you’re best friend was rhyming about eating your pussy. while you were thinking about something completely different you feel jjs tongue go straight to your clit. licking and sucking— devouring you like you were his last meal.

“i’ve always wanted to do this again, fuck you with my tongue in you’re bed, watching you squirm.. fuck you’re so sexy..” he went tongue deep inside you, licking inside you until you were at your peak. you quickly came undone.

“jeez jj, you don’t play do you?” you wipe some of his face with a towel, while he licks the rest of your essence up. “you taste phenomenal baby, couldn’t get enough.”he pulls his shorts down, revealing his long thick cock, precum leaking from the tip. “you see what you do to me beautiful?”

you nod. “jj that’s too big- that’s not gonna fit inside me! there’s no way that’s going inside me!” he let you babble on until you stopped. “it’ll fit princess, cmon lemme show you.” you shook your head no immediately.

“jj i’m serious! that shits gonna hurt!” he shook his head right back. “it’ll sting a lil bit but it’ll feel good scouts honor!”

“you’re so unserious jj.” he spreads your legs and pushes his tip inside of you, you didn’t even notice since you were talking so much. you realized he had you talk so you wouldn’t feel the pain, and he was already balls deep inside you. “h-how did you do that?”

“you’re wet princess, so it just slipped in… feel good? let me know when you’re ready for me to move.” you nod, waiting a few minutes before you tapped his abs. “yes ma’am?” he asks. “w-want you to move now..” he nods, moving slowly but extremely deep. “fuck you’re tight.. not gonna last long in this pussy, fuckkkk princess!”

he starts to speed up, hearing the wet slapping noises turned him on even more, he leaned down to kiss your beautiful lips. “you’re so beautiful while you’re getting fucked, you’re beautiful all the time but like this? shitttt, imagine how beautiful youd be cumming from my dick.” he rubs right circles on your clit until the band in your stomach snaps.

“jj i’m gonna cum!” he looks down at your clit, then your stomach. and he sees a visible bulge. “fuck baby, you feel that? that’s all me, all me deep inside your pussy… fuck look how big that bulge is!”

the stomach bulge was both of your breaking points, you came hard on his dick and jj’s dick buried to the hilt and spurted all his cum deep inside you. “fuck baby.. you was grippin me so tight..”

you nod, feeling utterly fucked out “i guess i owe you food then?” he chuckled. “only if you wanna make me some food, you don’t gotta do nothin for me. i’d love some pasta though, when you’re legs feel better.” he smirked.

“okay, don’t we have to pee or something? i don’t want anything happening to me jj!” he got up, putting you on his shoulders. i know princess, we’re gonna go pee now.”

“how about we order some food instead? i’m too tired to cook.” he sets you down on the toilet for you to pee. “sure. as long as i still get my pasta sometime this week.”

________________________________________

a/n: this is pretty long but hey! hope u like it!

taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @sophand4n4 @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here

[thriftedtchotchkes]

give in

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows you how to love yourself the way you deserve

warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, age gap, comfort, smut, size kink, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, fingering, exploring sexual trauma, mentions of guilt & shame, intrusive thoughts

word count: 2.8k

“Doin’ real good, baby. That’s it, nice and slow. No need to rush it.”

Joel needs you to believe it. 

He can feel your discomfort and sense the intrusive thoughts threatening to overtake you, but he needs you to know that everything you're doing right now is okay. 

It’s normal and natural, and under his roof, highly encouraged. All he's ever wanted is for you to feel good. For you to allow yourself the grace and gratification of coming undone at your own perfect hand.

But you live by an unspoken rule, one that doesn't apply to anyone else. There's nothing you love more than watching Joel touch himself, whether it's quick and dirty or drawn-out and meticulous, his body teetering on the edge of all-consuming release for hours. Yet, when it comes to your personal pleasure, there’s only shame.

He's beginning to realize that your aversion goes beyond a lack of education. You were young when the outbreak hit, and while FEDRA schools aren’t exactly known for their top-tier sex ed classes, that isn't what's holding you back.

There's something else there too, buried beneath the surface. A lifetime's worth of guilt and doubt that he alone gets the privilege of unraveling. So whenever you come to him for help, he leads you to his bed and gently coaxes you to self-completion.

He takes it slow and keeps his hands to himself unless you tell him otherwise—and you always tell him otherwise. But those are your boundaries to set. New rules to replace the old ones. 

Pressed firmly into your side, he whispers soft reassurances in your ear, his lips brushing the wispy baby hairs framing your forehead with every word. He swallows every gasp and moan, and cherishes the sharp sting of your nails biting into his skin as you reach your peak.

And when you come down from the clouds and turn to him with hazy eyes and a blissful smile, he knows it's all worth it. Even if it takes years more, he’ll continue to talk you through it, banishing the cruel thoughts that plague you and replacing them with the promise of relief.

Just like he is right now.

--

"Tell me what you're feelin'. I wanna know what's goin' on in that pretty head of yours."

You shake your head, exhaling a long, frustrated breath. Your body never responds to you the way it does to Joel, and on the rare occasion it does, it just isn't the same. It takes too long and there's none of the gradual build-up that allows you to lose yourself in it. Not in the pleasure of it anyway.

"S'a little...dry," you mumble, slowing to a stop. It'll start to burn if you keep going like this, but you're not sure what else you can do. Joel presses a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear before pulling back.

"Lemme see your hand, sugar," he says, gesturing for yours with his own. Confused, you remove your fingers from between your legs to hold up in front of his face. 

You're waiting for him to inspect them or come up with a valid reason why they're not working when he abruptly sucks them into his mouth. His tongue feels hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dips between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. 

A wave of heat almost identical to the one enveloping your hand begins to pool at the base of your spine, and you feel a sudden, heady whoosh at the apex of your thighs. If he could just keep doing that, exactly that, but further down your body—

But to your disappointment, he stops as suddenly as he started and slides your fingers from his mouth with a lewd pop before guiding them back to your core.

"How 'bout now?" he asks earnestly, and Christ. He's so good at that. He always knows how to work your body, even by proxy. 

You're wet. You don't even need the added moisture of Joel's saliva anymore. Just the action itself has you breathing heavier, eliciting a craving you never knew you had. Your fingers slip clumsily through the slick leaking out of you, and your eyelids flutter at the fleeting sensation of your fingertips catching your entrance. 

"B-better...feels better," you stumble over your words. Your fingers continue to explore your folds without your permission, stoking the fire in your belly. And also your doubt. "But I'm—J-Joel it's..."

That telltale embarrassment is starting to creep in again, reminding you that you're doing something wrong. It feels too good and you really don't want to stop, but what does that say about you? Sinner, slut. The intrusive thoughts are louder than Joel's gentle panting in your ear now.

As if he can hear them, he snakes a hand past your stomach to grip the soft plush of your thigh. He spreads you open, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massages soothing shapes into your skin, silencing the ugly words with his kind touch.

"S'alright, sugar, you can keep goin'. You liked that, right? That's good. You're treatin' your body the way she deserves," he says encouragingly. His hand inches closer to where you're dribbling onto the sheets, but stops the moment his thumb reaches your coarse curls. 

You ache to wrap your soaked fingers around his to tug him closer, but you know you can't. And that feels surprisingly okay. For the first time in a long time, you're actually keeping yourself sated enough without his help.

Now that your legs are parted, it all feels...different. Heightened, almost. It's because you're hyperaware of every movement you're making, you realize, and it turns you on way more than it should. Or no. No. Exactly as much as it should. 

Joel isn't immune to it either. 

As your bedroom fills with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds, you can feel Joel fighting harder not to rut into your side. His body is tense beside you, and the bicep pillowing your head flexes intermittently every time your hips swivel to meet your hand. His praise is also starting to take on an edge, tinged with something a little...filthier.

"Y'hear that? You're gettin' so loud, sugar. So wet," he grits out, his expression pained. "Just look at'cha. Needy, perfect girl. Doin' everythin' right."

His eyes dart up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. He's watching you a little too intently, likely to avoid the image of your glistening palm and fingertips working to bring yourself closer and closer to the edge. You're making a huge mess.

And it's making Joel hard as a rock. Twitching and leaking, and temptingly bare against the sweet friction of your hip. You know he's doing everything he can to focus on you, but he can't even begin to imagine how much his reaction is spurring you on. 

More. You want to give yourself so much more.

"Joel, I don't think I'm doing it right," you twist to whine into his tousled, graying hair. You breathe him in, and the familiar scent of pine and suede makes your head spin and your fingers stutter. "S'not enough. I-I need more, I keep losing it."

He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, wrenching his gaze away from you to glance down the bed. He can't even hide how badly he wants to touch you. His cock jerks the moment he catches sight of you again, smearing precum across your skin, and you involuntarily mimic him, your hips bucking up into your unpracticed touch.

Blunt nails dig into your thigh before his hand trails back up to your stomach. It trembles as he guides you, languidly and with a hint of desperation. 

"S'okay, just follow me," he instructs you, swirling his middle and ring fingers in a tight circle around your belly button. You shiver at the raspiness of his voice. "Right around your clit. Remember where that is?" 

But before you can shake your head, his arm slides out from under you and he shifts further down your body to lean over you, propping himself on his elbow. His fingers continue their path on your stomach while he moves lower to gently tug up the hood of your clit, revealing your swollen nub. 

"Fuckin' hell," he swears quietly under his breath, his stomach visibly tensing. He's careful to steer clear of everything else, giving you enough space to heed his lesson. 

"Alright, c'mere, sugar. There ya go. See? You remember," he releases you, shifting a hand to your thigh and wrapping the other tightly around the base of his cock. He keens, his back nearly bowing with the pent-up tension in his body. "That's it. Nice, tight circles. Just like when I make you cum with my mouth."

You choke on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you're suddenly inundated with memories of Joel between your legs, fucking you with his tongue until you gush into his mouth. You press down harder, swirl faster. No guilt, no disgust. It all still feels so good. 

He notices the change in your breathing immediately and begins to stroke himself in time with the rapid rise and fall of your breasts. The hazel of his eyes darken to pitch black. A warning, preparing you for the ecstasy to come.

"Oh, you like that, huh? S'good, you're doin' so good. Can ya give yourself two fingers?" he croons, teasing just below the ridge of his cock with his thumb while he waits for your response. 

"I...yeah. Y-yes," you whimper, your brows furrowing as you slip your fingers lower to circle your entrance. But as you start to press into yourself, you hesitate. "W-wait, it feels like too much. I don't want it to hurt."

At that, he all but winces like he's in physical pain, and his hand shoots to the base of his cock again and squeezes.

"Christ," he grits through his teeth, but it sounds more like a growl. You never meant to make him fight his own body like this, but you won't lie and say you're not devouring every second of it. He exhales sharply through his nose to ground himself. "Does it feel good when ya take my cock?"

Those dark eyes are locked on yours, but somehow they're still so gentle. He's not saying any of this for himself. You can tell, it's all for you. Reminders that you can do this if you want it and that he'd never ask you to do anything that could harm you.

You nod quickly because it does feel good. You need him to know that having him inside you feels so, so good. 

"Look at those pretty, little fingers of yours. They bigger than I am?"

Your eyes drop to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around himself. He's leaking all over his fingers, thick and tinged an angry shade of red.

"No, Joel. You're bigger," you whisper, your pleasure intensifying the longer you watch him. His lips quirk into the beginnings of a smirk.

"Now, ya don't have to. You can get yourself there just like that. S'just as good," his drawl commands your attention. "But I think you'd like knowin' how it feels like to cum around 'em—"

The tips of your fingers begin to sink into your heat before he finishes his sentence. The sensation is...everything. Too much to keep your eyes from rolling back or your jaw from dropping. It's just so different. As you bottom out, you wonder how this is even possible for Joel. How he ever manages to fit.

"S'hard to move," you pump your fingers in and out experimentally, moaning quietly at the addictive way they drag against your walls.

You're not too naive to realize your body stretches to accommodate him, but you're too caught up in the sight of his hand resuming its previous pace to recall that knowledge. He looks a little desperate and sounds even more so.

"Fuck me. S'it tight? Tell me, sugar. Tell me how tight ya are," he pants heavily, unable to stop himself from fucking into his fist. You unknowingly match his pace, clenching around yourself every time your palm slaps into your clit.

"M'so tight, Joel. And wet and warm," your eyes flutter closed as you lose yourself in the beauty of your own body. 

Letting the slick sound of his hand slamming into his pelvic bone be your guide, you bring yourself closer and closer to your own distinctive state of nirvana. The same explosive release Joel gives you—you're finally allowing your body to experience it for itself.

"Joel, I'm...I...," you sob around your words, barely able to force them out as your entire being quakes with your impending orgasm. "...I can't—m'gonna cum, Joel, I can't."

Without warning, he throws a leg over your body to straddle your hips and crashes his lips into yours. He continues to work himself as he coaxes your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours fleetingly before he pulls back. 

"Let go, sugar. Give in to it, s'okay. I got ya, I'm right here," he breathes against your lips, and you tilt your head to meet them. When your head drops back onto the bed, your eyes are pleading. You need his help. 

And he understands. That's what he's here for.

"Cum with me," he murmurs, dropping his forehead to yours. "C'mon, perfect girl, you deserve it."

You believe him. The shame and never-ending guilt that twists and snags like barbed wire in your chest is nowhere to be found right now. There's only silence, save for you and Joel teetering on the cusp, and his tender reassurances in your ear. He's right. You can have this. 

"Ngh—Joel, it's...cumming. Fuck, fuck, m'cumming."

It creeps up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaks, then slams into you like a freight train. His name leaves your lips in a sharp exhale of sheer relief, repeated like a prayer while you ride it out. 

You're vaguely aware of a ragged, drawn-out groan above you as you soak the sheets beneath you, your cunt squeezing your fingers hard with every spasm, just like he said it would. You feel it all. 

Then you feel him splatter across your stomach and breasts in thick, white streaks, his release as messy and prolonged as yours. Gasping, you continue through your aftershocks together until sensitivity sets in.

Joel collapses on the bed next to you and immediately pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky, drying mess smearing between you. He cups your cheek and kisses you, firmly but chastely, before reluctantly pulling away.

His eyes search yours carefully like he's looking for something. Peace, maybe? A sense of calm, an absence of the cloudiness he so often sees there and fights to keep at bay. Whatever it is, he must find it because then his lips are on yours again, a longer, deeper kiss that you melt into with loose limbs and a light heart.

"How we doin', sugar?" he asks tentatively as he parts from you. 

You take a moment to respond, appraising your body and everything it can sense right now. The wetness between your legs and on your chest, your aching wrist and thighs, and that sweet, pleasant buzz settling at the top of your spine. 

"Good," you tell him honestly. You gaze up at him with a blissful smile, preening at the affectionate one he gives you in return before burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"Thanks for this," you continue, mumbling carefully into the warmth of his skin. "And for putting up with me. I know all of this is shitty and weird, and not fun. Just...thanks for never giving up on me."

He sighs, pulling you impossibly closer and enveloping you in his strong, soothing embrace. It feels safe here. In Joel's bed, surrounded by his scent and heat, and unwavering patience, you start to feel hopeful. He lifts your hand to his lips and softly kisses the pads of each finger, then the center of your palm.

"Ya don't have to thank me for any of that. We'll keep doin' this, s'long as it takes," he murmurs, urging you out of your hiding spot to meet his eyes. "Not a damn thing wrong with ya. Ya hear me? You're perfect."

Maybe one day, you'll be able to believe him outside of this bedroom. But for right now, you just feel lucky to be loved by a man like Joel. One who accepts your trauma and your past, and will always be there to protect you, even from yourself.

thanks for reading!

[onsraas]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

┊rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe and his best friend who are now entangled in a friends-with-benefits situation after a careless bet, and realizing that dealing with feeling is not as easy they thought.

warning(s): explicit content ahead!! though there’s no outright smut but there is heavy language and connotations. kind of humorous in the beginning but angty-ish in the end. smoking. nakedness. 3rd person narrative.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: been over a year since I last posted here, but I’ve been working on this one for months, yet I couldn’t find the perfect way to end it. If you want a pt. 2 just lemme know.

ps. reblogging helps a lot.

photo credits | navigation

"You do know that anyone could see you, right?" She remarks, though he makes no signs that he's actually heard her as his back is given her.

Rafe is butt naked, facing the now lonely beach, out in the deck where anyone could see him if it were not to be 2 a.m.

She soon realizes though, that he's not alone, but accompanied by his cigars, and the intoxicating scent makes her body tingle under the borrowed clothes. "What ya doing?" She said once beside him.

He barely looks at her as he says, "I'm having a party back here, can't you see?" A smirk plastered across his face, while he inhaled deep into the cigarette he held between his index and middle finger.

"Jerk." She mutters, already used to his irony but bugged either way. She reaches for the pack of cigarettes, looking for one of her own, but was met with the disappointing view of its emptiness. "You fucking addict," she jokes. "you didn't even leave me one."

Rafe's smirk is still there when he looks at her scowling face. "Take this one," he hands the cylinder for her to grab, expecting her to grab it eagerly, and is nothing but correct. "I've already had two, either way."

"How long have you been here, anyway?" She says, sounding like a kid speaking with their mouth full, but instead it's an adult with a dangling cigarette between her lips. And if it were up to Rafe, he'd choose to stop staring at those.

"You were in the bathroom a while." Waking himself from the distracting sight of her, he responded. He knew that if he kept looking he'd only get a boner, and second rounds were not part of the deal. Besides, it's not like he could hide it with his still completely naked form.

"Well, I was washing away your bodily fluids, thank you very much." She was so oblivious on Rafe's attempt to warn her away from anything that reminded him of them having sex. "By the way, these clothes were what I could find. I'll give them back before I leave."

"That's alright." It was anything but alright. By this clothes, she was referring to one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that looked huge on her, and yet he had to find it hot.

She started to realize it too. How so not alright it was. It showed a level of intimacy neither of them wanted to get to. Or at least Rafe didn't, and his flushed face was no longer hard to recognize.

Their deal started when both of them, tipsy, decided to give each other some confessions, "only to set the friendship better into place." They'd said, as if years of friendship weren't enough.

When she confessed that no man had ever made her come, Rafe couldn't help but take that as seriously as one could a confession from a tipsy woman. Very seriously. He was sure of his abilities, and so he bet fifty bucks on it.

She wanted those fifty. More so that she could laugh in his face when she won against him making her come. Yet, in the span of seven minutes, Rafe had gotten those fifty back in his wallet.

They'd sworn they would never do it again.

But then a movie night at Rafe's got in the way, and soon enough they were fucking with the sound of the movie making them background.

After that they decided they enjoyed it too much for it to just stop, but, there had to be severe rules, since, in her words "the friendship went way back to throw it away." And in his words "he didn't want to commit."

Though both of them had been lying that day, neither of them knew it.

He regretted it now. Giving her his cigarette, that is. He was struggling to keep himself distracted from his own thoughts, since they all involved her. And not in a family friendly kind of way.

He could imagine grabbing her right now, how her mouth would feel, full of the intoxicating taste of tabaco as his tongue went into it. How he would use both his hands to pull her against him, and how she would moan when his thumbs caressed her covered nipples.

He felt something shoved against his chest and he could hear the sound of the ocean again, so his daydream was over. "You've got a boner." When he looks down, he realizes it is the shorts she'd had on.

She could feel Rafe staring, but she was trying very hard not to look at him. She knew a look back would only make this more complicated, and she would not hesitate to fix his 'problem'. Whether she was the reason of said problem or not.

Soon enough, she finally felt Rafe taking the shorts from her, and she could hear the sound of the fabric as he puts them on.

"I think this has to come to an end, Rafe." She says, already giving up on the cigarette and putting it in the ashtray.

Rafe looks at her, incredulous at her words, "Because of this?" He asks while motioning to his erection. "Don't be stupid, it's not you who caused it." Using the same tone a fifth grader would use to say he doesn't like the girl he's been staring at all day.

"I don't give a fuck about your erection. It's cold and dicks are weak, Rafe. I met someone."

He only looked at her through his peripheral vision, looking into her as if her wandering eyes would give him the reason of such a sudden statement.

He felt the need to ask who, why, when, where. Yet, he asked neither. Instead he completely turned to her, looking at her right in the eyes, making her whole demeanour change, and she felt small again.

"We knew this would happen, Rafe." But her words only sounded like a made-up excuse. "You know, we're friends. You're my pal." She pitied herself, and she pitied herself even more when she decided to gently punch him in the shoulder, making Rafe glare at her fist.

"Did you actually just call me your pal?" An intense scowl adorning his face. "You were sitting on my face less than an hour ago. You don't get to call me pal."

His voice was rough, as well as his face expression, but the hand grabbing her waist was nothing but a gentle touch with a longing undertone.

She could say absolutely nothing. Nothing when he pulled her closer; nothing when his eyes met hers; and nothing when their faces were mere inches apart.

“Why?” He finally dared to ask.

“Rafe, this is not up for debate. It was never supposed to come this far.” She thought her next words throughly, as if they would change anything. Or maybe hoping they would change anything. “You just don’t care about me that much for me to keep putting my heart in jeopardy.”

“I don’t think you know how much I actually care about you.” His words were stained with hurt, because how could she not realize?

Her face started to heat up from exasperation, “tell me how much you actually care, then. Because all you’ve been doing throughout our whole friendship is hid—”

She couldn’t finish her monologue before Rafe’s lips were on hers. Breaking every rule they’d ever set.

Though they’d kissed plenty of times, this time was different. She could feel everything. And not lust, or desire. But rather something more like longing and desperation.

She felt him rounding her arm around her waist, hugging her closer to him, as if he thought she was going to disappear on him. And when her hand touched his face, she retreated from the kiss, looking for his eyes, and found was she was looking for.

"Will you keep seeing him?" He asked, breathless from the kiss and breathless from  hope.

Instead of answering his question she just said, “I don’t think that’s going to be enough for how much I care.”

[sglossmin]

MUSE | MYG pt. 2

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You’re here for an appointment for therapy and he’s your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader —> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?) Change povs, I think you guys will be interested hehe

Warnings: talks about mental and death…erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: Here's the part 2 guys!!! Thanks for liking the first part!! As I said it's my first time doing this and it already feels soooo great. I hope I won't disappoint anyone:<< Thank you for reading!! (I pulled all nighters last night to finish the first part ngl. I only read it twice, it seemed fine but anyways, tell me if I'm lacking or u don't understand something!) Also, I really don't know if psychologists work like this heh. Happy reading!

Comment your @ if you guys want to be added on taglist! That's what tumblr authors do, right?

Part 1 read here^^

His voice ringed in my ears.

Exactly...He was right.

Jeon Y/n, what happened?

I shook my head and nervously chuckled away my thoughts. Can I do this with a doctor? Should I just keep on hiding away my thoughts? Isn't the reason I paid to be here was so I can let myself sink in my emotions and thoughts without drowning?

With him across me, his hazel eyes looking with such concern, how can I?

By the time I heard the name of the doctor, I knew it was too familiar. Yet, I shrugged it off thinking there's thousands of people who has the same name.

I was wrong.

Clearing my throat, I looked at everywhere but him.

"Maybe it was the fatigue. I had a lot of different clients in a while, some of them were really just.." I hissed, also half chuckling—if that's even a thing.

Why am I always like this? Why do I keep on lighting up the mood instead of diving deeper?

Was I afraid to drown?

No.

I'm afraid that while drowning, no one would even bother to save me.

"You had a hard time dealing with clients?" Yoongi asked as he tilt his head writing down every words of mine.

This scene felt too familiar. I didn't even realized that I let out a snort, he looked at me with a frown.

I let out a nervous chuckle before clearing myself, "Don't get me wrong. It's just, I met a couple of journalists already, and...well... you look like one. I mean, I know it's just part of the procedure. I just really have a crack in my head."

Yoongi's eyes widen. "You had a head fracture? Why didn't you tell me? Since when did it happen and why-"

I cut him off by shaking my hands off , "N-no...no, it's not like that. It was uh... a joke. Sorry." I bit my lip.

Gosh, this is embarrassing.

He sighed and nodded. "That's good to know."

The session continued. We talked about how some coping mechanism that can help me reduce my anxiety. Yoongi also said that it'd be great if I can tell him what triggered me to feel this way.

"Right... I haven't told him."

I remembered while munching the tangerines I bought last time. It was late at night and I was finishing the landscape that my daughter's client wanted. It was a rather fantasy-looking painting. Like in those manhwas. They paid me big time for this, I should at least do my best if I wanna retire early. My back ached for having a hunched position for a long time.

"I should've paid to go to yoga classes instead of therapy..." I yawned.

Lost in my thoughts, I heard a car sound. Someone just parked their car probably since it seemed like the engine went off.

"Who's visiting me at this hour- Wait, right. Someone lives across me who actually drives now."

Too used on having the old Kim's as the neighbor, I forgot.

My phone rang and I sighed as soon as I saw the caller's ID.

"Yes? What do I owe the pleasure of having my sweet, lovely, sexy manager Park to call me late at this hour? Another plagiarism?'' My voice full of intent of sarcasm made me imagine my manager roll his eyes.

A few seconds of silence before he answered, "Are you okay?"

What? The crap this dumbass talking about.

"Still alive... yeah"

It wasn't really weird for him to ask me that since other than being coworkers, we're also friends. The weird thing is, calling me late at night just to check me up.

Receiving a text message saying, "Don't catch cold, keep warm" or "Make sure you eat." even at late at night—understandable—but calling? Not a Jimin thing.

"I got a report that you went to a mental clinic." His voice were laced of concern.

"Oh that, I was just, uh... Heard there was a free mental check up, so why not grab it?"

Even with just a phone call, I can already feel his intense glare toward me.

"Don't lie. I already checked the clinic. They don't have stuffs like that. Tell me why you're there, Jeon Y/n"

Shit. He called me by my full name. He's the worst when he's mad.

Should I tell him? But I swear, he'll just gonna bomb me with tons of questions. He might even pull off the client's demand. Gonna force me to take the time off. Care for me like a sick victorian child.

Taking a time off is the least thing I need right now. With these drawings, I can have a peaceful mind once in a while. Not caring or thinking about anything in the world, just focused on making a masterpiece someone would love.

I cleared my throat, I knew Jimin was just concerned about me, which made me feel even more bad. "I was just... visiting an old friend."

"Really, huh?" He spit, obviously not believing me.

"A schoolmate of mine works there. He's a doctor there." Unfortunately.

Jimin sighed. "You know Y/n, you can tell me anything. I'm not just your manager-"

"But a close friend. Yeah yeah, I know that. I always thank you for being that. But don't worry. I'm fineeee. Get your good night sleep and contact Mr Jung and tell him the artwork is done, okay?"

He told me once again how he cares before he hangs up.

Realizing that I've been just staying in the house for too long, an idea came up to my pretty head.

"Should I play with Jungkook tomorrow?"

I called Jungkook last night and he agreed. We're going to play badminton early in the morning before I go to my appointment with Mr Jung.

The sun is about to rise yet Jungkook is nowhere to be found. I waited for him in the playground in the neighborhood. Called him multiple times yet he didn't answer. I held the racket in my fist.

"Whoa...is he getting back at me since I didn't showed up for lunch last time?" I clicked my tongue and was about to go home till I heard someone call me.

"Ms Jeon!"

I turned my head towards the voice. It was Yoongi, he was slightly covered in sweat. Seems like he's been running for some quite time. Never thought he's a morning person.

He ran towards me with a smile. What a scenery...

"You're playing?" He asked, looking at the racket in my hand.

We played for a while. The sound of each other's laugh filled the playground. After multiple times of out scoring him, we sat down. Panting and drenched with sweat. Smile in our faces never seem to leave.

"Still good as ever." He said as he gulped down the water. "Too bad, you lost back then cause you don't know how to serve," he chuckled. His precious gummy smile flashing at me.

"You remembered?"

Spring 2011

Sports week.

The time where all of the students are completely engaged in a school activity.

We had basketball, volleyball, table tennis, cheer dance, pageant, badminton, and a lot of other stuffs really. It is the only time in the year where students can show off their talents.

D-1

I never really thought Min Yoongi was an athletic type. He's slim and so pale, he doesn't look like he goes out in their house at all.

But here I am, squealing and cheering over him—along side with the other thousands of students.

Yeah, well, what can I say? A lot of people want to cheer him.

He probably didn't even notice that I was in the crowd, chanting his name as if it'll help.

"GO MIN YOONGI!!! TAKE THOSE FUCKERS DOWN!"

"Young lady! Such a fowl language." The old teacher clicked her tongue.

I bowed and apologize.

"Here, carry these files for me and let's go to the guidance."

"P-pardon?" I gape at her and she just gave me a stack of paper and walked away. I followed and went with her.

Right after I finished writing 'I'm sorry, I won't curse anymore' in a three page yellow paper, back to back, their game was finished.

"They were literally lifting him up. And everyone was chanting his name." Chae said as she munched down my food. "Too bad you weren't able to see it."

I sighed. "It's fine. It's not like he'll notice." I sulked at my chair like a child.

"But he was frowning. Seems like annoyed or something. Like he doesn't even care that they won."

Why is he scowling when they won?

"So what day are you playing again?" Sana changed the subject.

"Day 3..." I even lost my appetite to the point I just let Chae eat my food. "I only participated because they'll give us additional grade, so the game doesn't really matter. I can lose in the first round and I wouldn't care"

Sitting up straight, I had an idea, "You know what? I'll lose in the first round, in that way I wouldn't have to work that hard."

"But wouldn't it be nice if you'll win? I mean... Neko won the championship..." Chae said. What a great way to ruin a foolproof plan.

But she has a point.

And it's stupid.

"He probably won't watch it. He'd rather stay in their classroom. Neko have always been like that." I snort.

That night, I wondered, what it feels like to have Min Yoongi to cheer for me?

D-3

There wasn't really much crowd during our game, which wasn't a surprise. During sport fest, the first and the last day only matters. Unless the players were the teachers. Seeing them play with the risk of slipping, their arthritis aching, big bellies bouncing, oh it is fun to watch. Especially when you root for the nicest teacher to win and talk shit behind when the most hated teacher comes in.

A fun time to enjoy ourselves before the school year comes to an end.

"Go Y/n!"

I glared at some of my friends as they shouted my name.

Why are they making such a big deal out of this? Tsk.

A small grin tugged my lips as the game is about to start. Do I love the attention and support they're giving me? Maybe... Will I admit it? When a dog grows its wing, perhaps.

The opponent served and I swiftly hit it back. I didn't hit it with much force but it went high and far, but still close enough to be counted as my point. In my defense, the shuttlecock landed perfectly on my racket that's why with even a less force, it bounced back that far.

One point for me, great.

I smirked, feeling a little bit of accomplishment.

It's my time to serve. The time I threw the shuttlecock at the air, a teacher called in.

"You can't serve like that, dear. You're playing badminton, not tennis." The teacher chuckled and made me do it again.

I really hate this kind of serve.

I did it the way it was supposed to be in the first place, hitting the shuttlecock, it still bounce back nicely. As I was about to hit it again, I caught a glimpse of him. My strike went too hard that it was considered out.

"Why is he here?" I mumbled while I unknowingly pout. Just slightly.

Jeon Y/n, he studies here and you don't own the school.

As if he heard my thoughts, our eyes met. His lips went slightly upward.

He's smiling at me- Oh... the bastard is smirking.

As if he knew his effect on me, he looked at me, almost mockingly.

Chaeyoung was right. I'll win this thing so I can remove that idiot's oddly hot smirk.

I focused on the game even more that I won every round till I made it to the championship. Even if one of us lose, it'll be titled as second.

But I've been second my whole life...

Time to turn the tables now.

Suprisingly, Yoongi watched the whole match. It did something in my stomach. Not in a diarrhea nor stomach ache thing, but you know, those birds in the stomach? Is that it?

Whatever it's called, I'm sure that's what I'm feeling right now.

I have to win this.

The last match started, even if there'll be times my serve didn't even surpass the net, I surely make sure that I'll get to hit it just right when I receive it. Our score's gap isn't that big, yet a two score points is still a hindrance for me.

I was panting so heavily, my body drenched in sweat...one score, that's all she need to win, and for me to lose.

Focus on the shuttlecock.

Hit it.

Run.

You have to win.

While blocking the opponent's strike, I went too fast... I tripped.

I sighed. Even if I didn't trip, I already lost. I tried to hit it too fast, had an imbalance position, and tripped. It was already bound to happen.

My friends and teachers ran towards me. All of them were worried, even my opponent went to me.

I laughed. It wasn't even serious. Slowly, my body felt fatigue. Losing its adrenaline, I just sat. I smiled at them saying I was fine. Physically, yes. But emotionally? I want to cry.

It was stupid and immature, I knew that. Yet I couldn't help but feel that aching feeling. By the time I stood up, he was nowhere to be seen.

"You didn't even bother to check up on me." I scrunched up my nose as I glared at him playfully.

"So you were looking for me?" He teased.

I gape at him, loss at words. "Well- It's-Uh-"

"Holding a grudge on me now, huh?" Yoongi teased even more. Grinning ear to ear as he made fun out of me.

Spring 2011 (MYG POV)

D-1

Ugh... Sports week.

Annoying crowd, annoying noises, annoying games- Hold—I actually like playing. I just don't really like the unnecessary stuffs.

Playing basketball might be the only thing I like in this school. Academics aren't that important if you're hardworking and trustworthy person.

She's really crazy.

I don't even have to look who it is. Hearing her cheer my name really gave me a boost of adrenaline.

I smirked without even realizing.

Guess I have to win this thing.

Our game continued, having a big gap already with the opposing team.

"GO MIN YOONGI!!! TAKE THOSE FUCKERS DOWN!"

I chuckled as I heard her shout that. Shooting another score, the crowd went wild.

It wasn't even the halftime yet I couldn't hear her anymore. The game goes on without her cheer. I searched the crowd—nowhere.

In the end, even after we won, all my eyes could do was search for her. Thank God, the guys lifted me up so I get to search for her even better.

Still. Nowhere.

She didn't even watch the whole game. Pfft.

Passing by in the hallway, I heard two students talking a few steps ahead of me about someone was brought in the guidance.

"Yeah, it was so funny. The girl beside me was like 'Go Min Yoongi! Take those fuckers down!' Then that known veteran strict teacher heard her and she was straight sent to the guidance." The girl laughed as she told it to her friend.

She was sent to the guidance?

I burst out laughing, making the two to look at me weirdly. Not caring in any ways, I laughed my ass out in the hallway.

It gave me a bit of an embarrassment, but I'll handle it later.

D-3

She plays sports too? Let's see how good you are, Jeon Y/n.

I smirked as our eyes met. Sitting down in one of the bench, I watched her play.

She's good. Too good actually. But I never saw her name in the official players list back then, so I supposed she's not a player. But with her playing like this? She can definitely.

I noticed how all her shots were almost perfect but when it comes to serving... Does she not know how to serve?

The game was becoming more intense as the time goes on. She was two score behind her opponent. With her expressions and body language, I can feel the...desperation? Even if she lose this round, she'll still earn a silver medal. But why was she gazing at her opponent like a lion ready to attack its prey.

A loud thud echoed in the court.

Was it the sound when she fell?

Or

Was it my heart dropping at the sight of her?

My eyes widened, everyone surrounded her as she fell. Even if I go right now to her, I wouldn't be any help.

Instead, I ran towards the clinic to get any medication that would help and brought an ice cold water for her. I did it as fast as I could. By the time I came back, no one was there. Only the teachers who were setting the place for the next game.

"Where is she? The girl who fell while playing?" I panted, pleading at the teacher's eyes to give me an answer.

"She's fine, child. She went back in her classroom already. No sign of any injuries." The teacher smiled reassuringly at him.

I sighed right as I heard that. I ran my fingers through my hair, looking at the things that I've bought.

I must've been crazy. She's making me crazy.

Yoongi and I talked about random stuffs as we walked back to our house. We had a bit of catching up with what's been going through our lives.

"You seem to ask a lot about me? It's not even our session yet."

He chuckled as he shook his head. "I wasn't being your doctor right now. I'm trying to be..."

A friend?

"a good neighbor." he smiled at me.

I don't know why but I felt my heart cracked. If not a patient, a neighbor. I guess that all we will ever be is like that. Not that I expect us to be something now that we reunited.

That would be stupid, right?

I chuckled, pretending as if his words didn't broke me.

"I see, you didn't even grew taller."

My head snapped at him. Gaping at him, I let out an airy chuckle. "Wow, as if you grew any taller, Mr Min. You were also the same height as you were in high school."

Yoongi huffed, putting his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie. "I grew a centimeter tall," he mumbled. Loud enough for me to hear.

I never thought I'll get to see this side of him. Sulky and pouty. My heart skipped a beat. The ones that I used to feel back then when we were younger. Due to the cold weather, his cheeks had a slight tint of pink.

I didn't even realize I stared at him for too long until he cleared his throat. I looked away, feeling like a child who got caught doing something forbidden.

"Have you...eaten?" he asked without even taking a glance at me.

He's asking me to eat with him??

I felt a kaleidoscope went wild in my stomach. My cheeks heated up as my whole body felt a wave of adrenaline. That feeling when you ate tons of sugar that won't make you sleep for a week.

I composed my self through clearing my throat, "No... have you?"

"Yeah! I found a breakfast diner just a few minutes walk away from here," he exclaimed. "Whoa, this neighborhood might be the best I've ever been. Have you tried there? Cause if not, you're missing out their specialties."

My head dropped, "Are you talking about Mr Juanito's diner?"

Yoongi nodded in response. His child-like grin never left his face.

If only looks could kill, he'd be a goner. My hands will snap his neck, burn his body near the forest-

"But I feel hungry now actually. I ran through half of the neighborhood then we played... Do you eat home cook dishes?" My train of thoughts stopped when he spoke. His head was slightly tilted as he looks at me.

This time, I didn't get my hopes up. He'll practically tell me how good he cooks or I should cook for myself. If only he's not that cute, I'll probably...probably...

Ugh! This isn't fair! He looks too cute for his own good.

I frowned, my thoughts were getting too heated that I couldn't even hide it. "Sometimes, when I'm not too busy." I tried to say it as calm as I could.

But my face has its own subtitle.

"Hm...then, would you want to eat with me? I'll cook, don't worry." Yoongi flashed me one of his sweet but shy smile. :]

I stopped my tracks making him stop too. I blinked—processing his words slowly.

"Ah, you don't have to if you have something to do. I proposed in case you're hungry-"

"Let's eat." I cut him off. Still feeling strange about him, I mustered all my courage just to say those two words. I couldn't believe that after almost ten years, he still has the same effect to me.

part 3 read here^^

A/N: okay... uh, I said I'll post this yesterday right..? heh Sorry, got busy. There'll be part 3 T^T Sorry guys if it's such a SLOWWW FCKING BURRNNN LIKE?? WHY YOONGI'S LIKE THIS T_T T_T T_T While writing this, I also felt the second hand embarrassment, and yeah...kinda giggle lmaoooo. Hope u guys won't resent me for posting a day later. I thought of finishing the whole story in pt 2 but it would take too long to write and I want you to guys to have something to read. This was supposed to be a short story, but while writing, i felt like this could lead into something more. So i just wanna build up the tension for now since it's been 10 years since they last met, it would feel unnatural for them to fall and shii right away, right? Maybe I'll end it in pt3? or...pt4 maybe?

[nightfang22]

For the wayne smut could you add the idea of them losing their virginity to each other. Thank you<3

Of course I can!Thank you so much and I hope you love it!Sorry if it's not great,it is my first spicy fic.Anyways,lemme know what you think!

Virgin Lovers

Warnings:SMUT Minors DNI

Pairing:Wayne McCullough x f!Reader

Word Count:1.5k

His smile. His eyes. His lips. Wayne McCullough infected your every thought. He made you feel things that you had never felt before. As you were lost in thought, you didn't realize that your phone had been constantly buzzing. You picked it up on the third ring of the 4th call. "Hello?"

"Hey Y/n, you got any plans later?" It was Orlando. You and Orlando had always been good friends which is how you met Wayne. Orlando had introduced you two one day when you had begged him not to make you skip class alone.

                                                         *Flashback*

"Pleaseeeee Orlando? I don't wanna go alone and you're way better at this than I am! Besides, I'm only skipping to help you get these new Pokemon cards you wanted! I don't have to do this, you know." You pouted and whined until he conceded. "Fine fine I'll go with you. You probably wouldn't know what to look for anyways." You were about to make an offended rebuttal when something else caught his attention. Or someone, you should say. Turning around to see who it was, you thought it was just going to be the girl he's been constantly crushing on with a spinal cage. But no. When you turned around, you saw none other than Wayne McCullough walking in your direction down the hallway. You felt your heart pound and your cheeks flush. Your throat constricted and suddenly your mouth had run dry. You guess Orlando had noticed this and nudged you in the side with his elbow. "Oooo somebody got it bad, huh? Who is it? Is it the guy with the clarinet you have band with?" You jabbed him with your elbow back and tried not to stare at Wayne's gorgeously bruised up face. Orlando caught notice and smiled wide. "Oh, you got it bad for my boy, Wayne huh? Want me to hook you up?" Your head snapped violently in his direction. "I swear to the Gods Orlando, if you embarrass me in front of him I will kill you." Wayne walked up to us and looked at Orlando, giving a little head nod. "Wayne man! Where you been?" Wayne chuckled a little and it was this sexy soft rumbling noise. "Whatcha mean? I'm like 20 minutes late." Orlando laughed. "Yeah 20 minutes and like 3 weeks!" Orlando must have seen you fidgeting with the rings on the chain around your neck cause he put his hand on your shoulder and looked at Wayne. "Wayne, this is Y/n L/n. She's new-ish. She was new, like a month ago." You felt Wayne's eyes on you and you looked up at him through your eyelashes before smiling awkwardly. "Y/n, this is the man. The myth. The legend. My best friend, Wayne mothafuckin McCullough." Wayne punched Orlando in the shoulder and he winced. "Damn man! I'm tryin to do you a favor!" Wayne's eyes never left yours, even when you felt your cheeks tinge pink and you looked away briefly.

                                                     *Flashback Over*

You had been inseparable ever since. Wayne ended up cutting class with you and at some point you had completely lost Orlando and went to some record store where Wayne had asked you if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You and Wayne have been together for 3 years now and you could never be happier.

"Uh not really. Probably just homework. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me and Wayne to this club off campus later? It's supposed to be super rave and like alternative vibes and I know that's your shit. It took me forever to get Wayne to agree and I maybe sorta already told him you'd go?" "Orlando!"

"I'm tryin to get a hot goth girlfriend! Help a brotha out!"

  I sigh in defeat through my nose. "Fine. I'll go. But the moment anyone is too drunk, we're leaving. Got it?"

 "Yeah yeah for sure! Thanks, Y/n! You the best!"

                                                *Timeskip to the club*

You look around at your environment. It's a lot of flashing lights and loud music. Not really your scene. You scan the crowd for Orlando and Wayne when you spot them against the wall outside. You walk up to them and you notice Wayne's eyes scan up and down your body. You're wearing a faux leather 2 piece with a silver body chain covered in dangly purple and blue rhinestones with black sparkly platforms. "Hey guys, sorry if I'm late I-" You get interrupted by Wayne pulling you in by the waist. He keeps you close to him and it looks like he's glaring at something when you look up at his face. You look over and see him glaring at some guy. The creep looked like he was eyeing you and you weren't for it. You curled closer to Wayne before Orlando waved us to go inside with him. The place was loud but very hype and fun. It didn't really seem like your kind of scene though. You don't get why Orlando wanted us to come. Neither you or Wayne were much of the party type. After watching everyone dance for a while, you decided to call it a night.

Wayne took you home and got you settled inside, laying you down in bed. You just laid there staring at his beautiful face. "I love you." Wayne never blushes but his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. You don't know where the courage came from but you leaned up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss quickly evolved into a heated makeout session. Wayne crawled into bed on to of you, pulling away only to take off his shoes cause he knows you have a thing about shoes on the bed. His hands roam your body in your pretty outfit. You pull away tossing off your body chain and making quick work of his shirt. Wayne wasn't necessarily 'buff' but he was very well tones and had a gorgeous frame. Your hands glided from his shoulders down to his waistline, working on the button of his jeans. He pulled away to look at you. "Are you sure? I-I mean I've never. And you've never. What if you regret it?" You pull him in for a sweet kiss. "I could never regret it. If anything, I wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else." That must have really got him going cause he practically tore off your clothes. He slid his jeans off along with his underwear and kissed my neck, pulling a gasp from you. When he pulls away, you finally have a good chance to look at him and holy fuck. You didn't realize your boyfriend was so….well endowed. Big enough that it looked like it might hurt. Wayne grabbed something out of his wallet and when you noticed what it was, he looked at you sheepishly. "Orlando gave it to me." He shrugged and smiled shyly. He rolled on the condom and crawled back over you. "And you're absolutely sure?" You nodded and placed your arms around his neck so that you could play with his hair. He placed himself at your entrance before stopping. "Hang on gimme your leg." You looked at him confused before lifting your leg and he placed it up on his shoulder, doing the same with the other one. "I read somewhere that it hurts less if you do it like this." He realigned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You felt tears prick your eyes as he stretched you and he kissed your forehead, stopping. He made you look into his eyes. "Are you okay? Do we need to stop?" You shook your head. He stayed still, waiting for you to adjust until you nodded you head. He began to move and even though it hurt, it was a good hurt. You moaned softly as he bottomed out inside you. Wayne gently bit down on your shoulder and kissed it before placing his forehead on yours, beginning to find a steady rhythm. Your moans were the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he just wanted to keep hearing them. With one especially rough thrust he hit that special spot inside you and you arched your back while digging your nails into his and he ate that shit up. He continued at that pace as you screamed out his name in pure ecstasy. You felt the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your breathing picked up more. He held you close as you came crashing down from your high as his hips stuttered, painting the inside of the condom with his seed. He pulled out slowly, tossing the condom into the bin. He got up to grab a towel to clean you up and brought back a glass of water for you. After you're all cleaned up, he crawls back into bed with you, covering you up and pulling you close as you slowly fall asleep in his arms.

[multifandomfangirl93]

Back in bed- Buddie x reader

Summary: When your fever spikes, confusion and chaos ensues.

Warnings: none (I’m pretty sure)

🚨🚨🚨🚨

If you ask anyone at the fire house who the most stubborn person in your relationship is, most would say Buck. He’s strong willed and highly opinionated. He knows lots of random facts which makes it hard to convince him of being wrong about anything. He’s also the first one to run into danger. However, he is also the most loved of the firefam.

The real answer to who the most stubborn person in your relationship with Buck and Eddie is actually you. Your pretty low key at work. You were trained to not have all eyes on you all the time in your former profession in the FBI. You traded in your gun and badge for a helmet and shield 5 years ago and haven’t looked back.

You are a completely different person behind closed doors with Buck and Eddie. Your stubbornness and the need to be right can rival Buck’s any day, which is what drew him to you. You are the queen of the house and you will be treated as such, according to Christopher anyways. You do a very good job of embracing that sentiment, especially when your sick.

🚨🚨🚨

“Gotta get to shift.” You grunt, wiggling in an attempt to get out of Buck’s embrace. As much as you normally love a good snuggle, both of you were too damn hot right now. Plus, you had work and you wanted to see your hot boyfriends.

You hear the man on top of you chuckle as he says, “Babe. Your inside thoughts are coming out. That’s the tell that your fever is spiking. No work for you.” The man says in a sing song voice which eerily reminds you of Evan.

“Lemme go.” You practically pant. “I-I have two very sexy firefighter boyfriends that will kick your butt.” You say, pushing the man’s chest hard as you begin to truly panic, tears streaming down your face.

Buck quickly released you, not wanting you to panic and make things worse. You flung yourself off the bed and basically fell into Eddie, who was rounding the corner to see what all the commotion was about. Eddie dropped the medicine bottles he had in his hands to keep you from falling. He tucked you close to his chest as he gave Buck a questioning look after catching the end of your statement.

“Ummm. Hi baby. I’m uh one of said boyfriends..” Eddie murmurs as he runs a soothing hand through your hair.

“Her temp is up.” Was all Buck supplied.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he rested his lips to your forehead. He sucked in a breath as the heat stung his lips. “Oh nena. Back to bed with you” Eddie breathed. “Buck, can you-“ the words died on his lips as he gasped, your full weight dropped into his arms. “Mierda!” Eddie exclaimed, adjusting so that he could pick you up bridal style and carry you back to bed. “Buck. Cool rags. Then get a bowl of cool water. We gotta cool her down but we can’t shock her system.” Eddie said, immediately going into medic mode.

Buck nodded as he ran to the hall closet to grab all the wash rags. Eddie laid you down and grabbed the thermometer, holding himself back from jamming it in your ear out of panic. He said a silently prayer as he waited for the beep. 103.6. You groaned at the feeling of cold air hitting your skin as Eddie started stripping you of his sweat pants and Buck’s LAFD tee shirt.

“Shhhh mi amor. Está bien. Estás bien.” Eddie soothed, not even noticing that he was speaking Spanish. Everyone laughs when Eddie switches languages when he’s upset, but you and Buck know it soothes him in a way.

“I got them!” Buck says, tossing a few to Eddie as he skids into the room and walks around to his side of the bed. Buck climbs in and immediately starts placing washcloths in places he knows they will be most effective. Buck almost stops when you whine, trying to get away from the cold, but Eddie quickly redirects him.

“She’s at 103.6. Whatever you do, do not pull these off unless we are changing them. We have to get her cooled down.” Eddie said, eyes wide and fixed on Buck as his hands continue to work, running a washcloth down your legs.

Buck gulps and continues working, letting tears flow as your whines become whimpers and your body starts shutting down. You’ve been sick for a couple days, but the fever skyrocketing is new. Your body was already tired, so this had to be the last straw.

Buck and Eddie watch as your body stills. Both men have their eyes trained to your chest, relieved as it keeps rising and falling rapidly. Once Buck leaves the room to get the bowl of cool water, Eddie sits down and takes your pulse. It’s tachy, but strong, so he’ll take that for now. Eddie watches you silently until Buck comes back in the room. Eddie can tell Buck is holding the tears in as best he can by the shake in his hands. Once the bowl of cool water is safely on the bedside table, Eddie pulls Buck into his arms.

“Conozco mi amor.” Eddie whispers, immediately feeling Buck’s body shake as he is wracked with sobs. “She’ll be okay. Breathe mi corazón.” Eddie soothes, kissing the top of Buck’s head.

“She-she didn’t.” Buck stops, taking a breath to slow his breathing down. “She th-thought. She thought I was gonna hurt her. She d-didn’t know Eds.” Buck said, tears streaming down his face as he looked into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie’s face softened even more as he took Buck’s face into his hands, wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumbs before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Eddie knew that he needed to settle Buck before the poor man had a panic attack. Eddie is calm and collected. He methodically works to fix the problem and switches to medic mode. Buck, on the other hand, hasn’t seen the carnage Eddie has seen as a former army medic, so his soft heart breaks when any of you are in the slightest bit of discomfort. It’s one of the things Eddie loves most about him.

“It’s okay niño.” Eddie soothed, resting his forehead against Buck’s. “We just gotta get her fever down. Let’s change her cloths and go make her an electrolyte drink, okay?” Eddie suggested, hoping that if he gave Buck a task, the man would focus on helping and not get overwhelmed by the emotions of it all. They could have those later, but Eddie knew that you needed to be tended to more than his or Evan’s feelings.

Buck sniffled and nodded gently, brushing his nose against Eddie’s. The tip was cold, causing Eddie to scrunch his face and chuckle lightly. “Dios mío! And maybe get you a cup of hot chocolate. Your nose is freezing!” Eddie whisper yelled, smiling widely as Buck pulled back to give him a small smirk.

“Cold nose, warm heart.” Buck said, extracting himself from Eddie’s lap with a chuckle.

Eddie rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation. “Oye! That’s not even how the saying goes!” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up and started collecting the wash cloths.

They worked in tandem. Eddie would pass Buck the now warm wash cloth to be resoaked in the cold water. Buck would soak the wash cloth, wring it out, and pass it along to Eddie to be replaced on your body. They worked in comfortable silence, watching your still form and praying that your body would cooperate so that they could avoid a trip to the hospital.

🚨🚨🚨

A few hour later, you are pretty wide awake. The house has calmed down from Christopher getting home from school and dinner being made, so you are sat on the couch, not wanting to be far from your boys. Eddie had managed to get you to eat some soup and take some meds while Buck was getting Chris, so now you were much more comfortable and coherent. You leaned into Eddie’s side as Buck bunches up on the other end of the couch, the emotions of the day draining him.

You notice the lack of warmth at your feet and peer over, watching Buck for a few moments. At first, you think he’s asleep, but then you see him trying to subtly wipe under his nose and under his eyes. You shift into a sitting position and lean forward slightly to see his face better. “Evan?” You ask, scooting closer and effectively redirecting Eddie’s attention from you, wondering if you needed something or something was wrong with you, to his other lover.

Buck pretends to be asleep, but you can see the tears glistening in the tv light. You reach back, pulling slightly at Eddie, as you move closer. You don’t want to alarm Eddie, but this isn’t like Buck.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” You whisper, voice barely there now. “You feel bad too?” You ask, reaching up to brush his curls to the side to feel his forehead, but he jerks away, causing you to reel back and settle into Eddie’s front as he peers over your shoulder.

“Wh—?” Eddie starts, then it dawns on him. “Oh. Evan..” Eddie mutters, shifting you to sit propped up against the couch cushions to move in front of Buck. “Hey. Shhhh.” Eddie murmurs, folding his arms around Buck and pulling him into his lap before shifting from the coffee table, where he was awkwardly crouched, to the spot he took Buck from.

You sit back and allow Eddie to comfort Buck. You can tell you missed something somewhere that Eddie is currently privy to. So, to feel like your helping, you scoot over to grab the tissues that Eddie was keeping for you and pulled a few out, offering them to Eddie for Buck.

Eddie smiles sadly at you, knowing you are completely in the dark. You didn’t know what happened. “Thanks baby. Evan is just a little upset about something from earlier.” Eddie starts, shifting to slot the tissues between himself and Buck as Buck continues to cling to Eddie, crying into the crook of his neck. “Before I start explaining, none of this is your fault.” Eddie prefaces, kissing the crown of Buck’s head before continuing. “When your fever spiked earlier, you were a bit confused. Buck was trying to keep you in bed so you wouldn’t hurt yourself trying to get to shift and, well, you were so out of it you didn’t recognize Evan and thought he was hurting you.” Eddie explained, clutching Buck tighter as the story being told caused more sobs to rattle both men.

You gasped, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit. Eddie grabbed Buck’s water bottle and handed it to you over Buck’s head to help calm the fit. Once you were settled and breathing normally again, you scooted closer into their space and placed your hand on Buck’s back. “Baby. I-I’m sorry. I know you.” You started, kissing his shoulder. “I know you and I know you’d never hurt me.” You squeaked out, voice fading the more you talk.

Buck sat up, blowing his nose as you and Eddie took a side of his face, wiping his tears with the backs of your hand. “I-I h-hated the f-fear I p-put in your e-eyes.” Buck shuddered out, heart racing as he remembered the way you looked at him.

“She didn’t understand Buck.” Eddie said, rubbing his hands up and down Buck’s sides as you took Buck’s hand. “That looks wasn’t for you. We both trust you and love you more than you could comprehend. She thought you were someone else in her fevered brain.” Eddie explained, you nodding alone to preserve your voice.

“B-but she didn’t r-run from y-y-you.” Buck stuttered, wet baby blues staring into Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes.

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Ev. She was seconds away from passing out. She wasn’t going anywhere else!” Eddie soothed, knowing where that Buckley brain was going. Always the one to self sabotage.

“Oh.” Buck said, looking down at the tissues in his hands sheepishly. He lightly squeezed your hand as he tried to hide his face in Eddie’s neck once again.

Eddie laughed, plopping another kiss on the top of Buck’s head. “I get it though. It probably looked and felt different in the moment. Your okay mijo.” Eddie soothed, reaching over to pull you into his side as well. “Todo está bien.”

[breezy141]

that’s so cool | dave lizewski x f!reader masterlist.

a lil one shot. lemme know if u want a pt. 2 tho :))

before opening your locker door you quickly checked if anyone was wandering around in the hallways, you didn’t really want anyone to see what was hidden in there. the coast was clear so you put in the combination and yanked it open as quickly as you could.

a smile crept onto your face as you pulled out the comic you were halfway through, the amazing spider-man, you had a reputation to withhold in this school, you weren’t going to let some geeky comic books tarnish that so you hid them as if it was some kind of drug.

“you have the amazing spider-man, with the limited edition front page!? holy” you heard a familiar voice speak out to you, you spun around holding it behind your back. dave lizewski was stood there, his hands holding the straps of his backpack. he was a nerd, one you shouldn’t be seen with. i mean, you always thought he was so precious and such a cutie but unfortunately, you cared more about your stupid reputation.

“n-no what are you talking about? it was an english book” he frowned and tilted his head a little. “listen, i won’t tell a soul. plus, i’ve read enough comic books to know exactly what that is” to be honest, he was a bit of a geek so who’d believe him if he said anything anyway, you thought to yourself.

“fine.” slumping your shoulders a little you pulled the book from behind you and showed the front cover to him. “my daddy got it for me! it was a birthday gift, apparently there is only a hand full available. thankfully i own one” dave was in pure awe. he couldn’t believe it.

“that’s..so cool. i never knew you were into comic books” he said with a small giggle, you caught yourself smiling at that. noticing quickly, you pressed your lips into a fine line and looked down at the ground.

“yeah, i’ve always been into them. as i grew up i kinda drifted from them but when daddy got me this i could not resist so that phase has kinda come back” he nodded as you spoke, “hey, um, i have loads that i could give you, o-only if you wanted them! maybe it could inspire you to read them again”

frowning, you debated whether or not you should take them. usually, guys would never actually care for your interests; all they cared for is seeing you on their bed, sprawled out across the bed, wearing next to nothing for them.

“if you don’t want me to give you them here, maybe we could meet up somewhere and i’ll show you some” dave spoke up after he noticed you were unusually quiet.

“well, why don’t we do both? you could give me a couple now and show me some others another time, maybe on the weekend” dave’s eyes seemed to light up “really?!” you flashed a confused smile at him.

“i, erm, i mean yes we can do that” you giggled a little at his awkwardness. pulling out a pen from your cute pink bag, and a random slip of paper you wrote your number down and passed it to him. “when you get home, message me. we can figure out a time we can both do, and then meet up” he took the paper and stared at it for a little.

“but for now, let’s go to the library, the private section of course, and read some of these comics you were talking about” he pocketed the paper and nodded, you linked your arm around his and began walking to the library.

part of you cared about people seeing you together, but the other half didn’t. maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing getting to know dave, he was such a cute guy!

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 4

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1121

Masterlist

American Gods is a very good book, I'll give you that. It's about a man whose wife dies while he's in prison. When he gets out, he starts to work for an eccentric stranger. His wife's corpse follows him around. It's exactly the kind of stuff I imagined you'd read.

I tear through it in a few days, and am disappointed when I hate your other favorites. Addie Larue is alright (Addie falls for a guy in a bookstore) but I can't stand The Secret History or The Raven Boys and have to put them both down before I'm even halfway through them.

Are these the kind of people you're into, (Y/n)? Rich assholes who think they own the world? If that's the case, I have no chance with you.

But no. Shadow Moon is your favorite, and he is an every man's man. He went to prison for aggressive behavior, but I can tell that he is not an aggressive person. He made a mistake and he regrets it. Like me.

I'll admit, (Y/n), that I have made mistakes in the past. Before you, there was Candace, and everything about that relationship was a mistake. I regret my behavior deeply. But it's okay, because it was all just practise for the moment I met you.

We text a little throughout the next week. It's all superficial. Sometimes you tell me you're at work, but you don't tell me where it is that you work or what you do there. I get the sense that you don't want me to know too much about you.

I tell you I'm reading American Gods because of you.

YOU: !!!!!

YOU: lemme kno what u think!!

But you don't give me any more than that, and when I tell you I loved it you only send me a smiley.

Worse, I'm not at Mooney's when you next come in. Ethan tells me he saw you, and I want to put my hand through a wall.

I've only just found you, (Y/n), and I already feel like I'm losing you.

Finally, a lucky break. You come to the store again, and this time you're not alone.

There's a girl with you. She's taller than you, and dresses more modestly. She's also more quiet, but you introduce her to me as Nadia Ronig and when you both leave - not a lot of conversation between us today. You're focussing on your friend - I find her on Instagram.

And through her, you.

Nadia is from Belgium and is visiting you for the week. Like most people, she enjoys attention more than she lets on. Her account is public, and she is a serial-poster. Which is how I find out you've had breakfast together at the same place two days in a row. You are a creature of habit.

She's also posted a picture of your apartment building, and the park next to it, which is how I finally, finally find out where you live.

You shouldn't let your friends post pictures like this so publicly, (Y/n). This time it's just me, but anyone could find you this way. Who knows what kinds of creeps might be interested?

Scrolling back through Nadia's account, I find pictures of you together as young adults, teenagers, even as children. You've known this girl for a long time. Maybe longer than anyone else. That's important to know, because it means you must value her deeply. She values you, anyway. Until three months ago, when you must have moved, almost every one of her posts included you.

I find Nadia on Twitter, too, and realize pretty quickly that the account she most interacts with is you. @MoonShadow_. You don't use your own name because you don't want to be known, but you've told me American Gods is your favorite. You wanted me to find you on here.

On Twitter, your account is public. You mostly post about books, in English anyway. With Nadia, you interact in Dutch, and translating it makes me understand why it's been so hard for me to get to know you. In English you're aloof, but in Dutch you're not afraid to speak your mind. You talk about your day and your life and your political opinions, which mean nothing to me because I don't know any European politicians.

Maybe I'll learn Dutch for you. I won't let you know about it right away - it'll be a surprise. We'll go to the Netherlands for an anniversary of some sort and I'll be able to talk to your family in their language. You'll see how good I am to you, how hard I'm willing to work.

And I am willing to work for you. Of course I am. Otherwise, I wouldn't be outside your building at two am. Don't you think I'd rather be sleeping? But these are the things I do for you.

It may be late, but the lights in your apartment are still on, so I can watch you. You live in a shoebox on the first floor. It's a single room with an attached bathroom. Your windows are open, and you have curtains but they aren't closed. You're on an air mattress on the floor, scrolling through your phone. Nadia has your bed, but she's in the bathroom right now.

I like your apartment, (Y/n). It may be tiny, but it's undeniably you. Every wall is covered by a bookcase, except for where you keep a rack of clothes. You don't have a kitchen but you do own a microwave. You eat exclusively TV-dinners, as far as I've seen. When we're together I'll take better care of you than that.

I'm across the street. It's not a good neighborhood to be out alone this late, but I'm willing to risk it for you.

Nadia comes out of the bathroom, and the two of you start a conversation.

The street is narrow enough that I can hear the two of you talking. That doesn't help me, though - you and Nadia speak Dutch, exclusively. I wish I understood what you were saying, because I think it would help me know you. Unfortunately, I'll have to make do just listening to the sound of your voice and the tone you speak in.

I think you two are having an argument. Either that, or Dutch is just an exceptionally harsh language.

After a while, you turn out the lights and you both go to sleep. I'll leave, for now, but I'll be back tomorrow. During the day, this time. I want to see where you go every day. What you do when you're not reading.

It's time for the two of us to meet somewhere outside of where I work, don't you think?

[storiesandthingsofthatnature]

Cradle Snatcher (Pt. 1)

Summary: You had told Leon that perhaps after he graduated from the police academy than maybe you would give him the time of day. You two have an age difference but it’s nothing too big. However it still weirds you out. But, with Leon Kennedy, can you really say no? 

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: RE2! Leon Kennedy x fem! reader (afab) Warnings: Age difference (5 year age gap), breeding kink, biting, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t be silly~), cream pie, pre-ejaculation, dom/sub dynamics lemme know if I missed anything!  Disclaimer: MDNI!!! 18+ only! A/N: Hi there! So I’m very new to the RE fandom so please be nice to me uwu. Anyway, I’ve been reading a lot of dominant Leon and while that shit is nice I also feel like subby Leon is just as hot~ I hope that I did him justice. Like the title says this is pt. 1 so pt. 2 shall be out soon enough! :D If you like my writing be sure to think about popping up in my inbox for some requests :3c I do other fandoms so just lmk! :D I may even make a post about my rules and such, idk. If I get enough of a following :3 Alrighty! Enjoy! :D

You had told Leon that when he had graduated from the police academy then perhaps you would give him the time of day. To be honest, you just felt like a cradle snatcher. Leon was about 5 years younger than you. He was 21 when he graduated and you were 26 and already a lieutenant in RPD. You didn’t want to have a relationship get in the way of work anyway but Leon was hellbent on making you see him as more than a new subordinate.

It all started when you were just the ripe age of 21 yourself. You were called to a high school to talk about RPD and how it may be a nice career choice for the young minds of Racoon high. Leon was one of the bright eyed students that sat right in the middle, his stare never leaving your silhouette as you talked about what could be expected on the job. After class, he had stopped you to ask a few questions. You were happy with his curiosity and answered all of his questions with fervor. You were a budding rookie yourself and anyone who was interested in the same subject that you held dear was a friend automatically. 

Somehow he had wrangled your number out of you, saying that he would love to discuss further on possible internships and things of the like. It seemed like he was truly interested in policing and while that was true he was also very interested in you. Coupled with your beauty and passionate standing with justice and helping people, he couldn’t help but want to be sure that he had some way of keeping in contact with you. 

However, he didn’t make a move until he was 18 and had just graduated high school. You two had interacted a lot since the first day, Leon following your shadow for “on-the-job” training and even studying on his own when he could. On the eve of his first day at the training academy, he confessed to you about how he felt. He was a blushing mess and he ran over his words a lot but it was probably the cutest confession that you ever had the pleasure of witnessing. It was full of pure innocence and a part of you wanted to ruin it~ But you stayed strong and gently let him down. 

Again, you would feel like a cradle snatcher and while there was not that big of an age difference you still felt weird about it considering he had just graduated high school and was barely legal. But he was persistent, wanting to know the reason why. You couldn’t come up with a logical answer other than “You’re younger than me I’d feel weird.” And not wanting to lie to him you told him just that. He then started to ask if it would be because he was less experienced and that made you blush considering what that entailed. With a stutter you mutter a quick,”Maybe after you graduate.” And then quickly ran off to your office. 

You really didn’t think that he would actually wait until he graduated to try again. You were sure that he would have found some cute rookie cop girl, to your dismay, and find happiness with them. However, when he invited you over to celebrate his graduation, you should have known something was off when it was just you. But you did not say anything as you two hung out and drank in celebration. Like the good boy he was, he hadn't drunk any alcohol until he was the legal age, you introducing him to new beverages and mixes. 

After a few shots, Leon couldn’t help but try again. “Will you go on a date with me, [y/n]?” You choke on your drink, a part of you thinking that you should have seen this coming. But another had hoped that it wouldn’t happen. You cleared your throat of the froth,”Leon…” “I know what you’re going to say. That I’m too young for you but I think that’s absolute bullshit. I also know that it’s probably because I’m not all that experienced-” You sigh. “Leon, it’s not that-” “So let me prove to you that I can please you just as much, if not more, than any other guy you’ve been with. Use me.” You felt yourself go into cardiac arrest. He asked what now?! “Use…You?” Leon inched closer to you, eager to prove himself. “I can be your fuck toy.” He declared and you nearly passed out. “Leon.” His stare was stifling, filled with admiration and intent. “Please?” He asked, his fingers finding purchase on your thighs. “I know I can make you feel so good, just let me try?” He seemed to beg, his forehead coming to rest against yours. You audibly gulp. “Have you even been with anyone, Leon?” He gave a shy smile. “I’ve made out with a few girls but nothing more. Wanted to save myself for you.” He admitted and you have never felt so flattered. 

You felt your resolve slipping away. Leon was a very handsome young man. You were sure that a lot of people would love to make him happy. But for some reason he wants you and you couldn’t understand why. “Why me?” You asked, your eyes resting on his lips. You licked your own and Leon’s pupils seemed to dilate at the sight. Leon gave a small laugh. “I could count the ways but I feel like we’d be here for a while and I really want you to fall apart on my tongue right now.” You gently push at him in play,”I’m serious.” He pulled back to look at you. “If I tell you, will you let me?” He was basically asking you if he had a chance and you just couldn’t say no to those beautiful, blue eyes. 

You give in. “Fine.” You whisper and the giant smile that etched onto his face makes your heart swell. He was on you like glue, kisses eager and sloppy but you pushed him back gently. “Uh-uh, no reward until you tell me.” You gently laughed but you felt out of breath. His inexperienced kisses were enough to punch the air out of your lungs. Maybe you had it worse than you thought. He felt like whining but he kept it from bubbling out,”Your personality; from how passionate you are about your work to how motherly you are when you are amongst others that you have to look after.” He seemed to say that last bit fondly and that caught you off guard. “Motherly?” You wonder aloud and he nodded. “You handle people so well and in such a gentle way. It’s both nice and hot to see.” Well at least he was honest, you thought to yourself. 

“Hot? How so?” You muse and you could tell that he was getting a little impatient. He wanted to touch you but you were going to see how long he could last before he snapped. His blush was heavy,”Do I really have to explain that part?” You hum,”Obviously, rookie. I’m very interested.” He gave a reluctant sigh,”You acting motherly…Makes me wonder how you would act if we had kids..” He admitted softly, you having no idea that this is what your Leon was thinking of you this whole time. 

“Oh?” You ask with a glint in your eye. At first you weren’t really for this but now you were starting to get into it. Perhaps you had feelings for Leon that you hadn’t wanted to come to terms with. It’s just having him spill his heart out like this was moving and you couldn’t help the heat forming between your legs from his words. “Does my rookie want to make me a mommy?” You ask with a purr and Leon felt like he was about to explode from the embarrassment. You giggle at his reaction and cup his face in your hands to have him look at you. “Red looks nice on you.” You winked and he wanted to cup his face in his hands and groan. 

While the idea of getting pregnant was definitely not a good idea for you right now, the thought of getting knocked up after this little encounter was enough to make you think twice on logistics. Well, if you had to make a “mistake” with anyone you feel like Leon would be the ideal partner. You find your way onto his lap, his expression turning surprised as you settle yourself over him. “[Y-y/n]?” You gently quiet him with a chaste kiss. “While I would love to learn more about how you feel about me, I can’t help but get riled up by that little imagination of yours.” You say and Leon audibly gulps. You place your arms across his shoulders, crossing your forearms behind him as you lean forward to brush your lips against his. “How about it, rookie? Wanna make me a mommy?” You whisper and Leon bucked his hips up against you. 

“C…Can I?” His voice sounded hopeful, filled with pureness yet sticky with lust. You giggle and give a few languid kisses to which he shivered from. “As long as you don’t dip on me if you actually do end up getting me pregnant.” His hands found purchase on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he said,”Never.” That was the most confident he had been all night and it made you stutter. “O..Okay. You better keep your word.” You gently joke but at the same time, hope that he truly meant what he said. You lean forward again to capture his lips with yours, Leon returning with fervor. He took your lead and found a place between your hips. He kept his hands against you like you were going to run away and you slid your fingers through his hair to massage his scalp to try and tell him otherwise. He sighed contently into your lips, hips beginning to grind against yours. “S-Sorry.” He whispered, feeling a little embarrassed by his behavior but you give a shake of your head. “No, baby, don’t be. Feel good?” You ask and he gives a fervent nod. 

“Such a good boy.” You purr and he groans from your praise, his hips picking up in pace. You let out little moans of your own, wanting Leon to know that he was being so good for you and your sounds alone were enough to nearly make him cum in his pants. He stopped grinding suddenly, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to suppress his orgasm. “No, no no, that won’t do.” You say as you begin to grind down on him. “N-no, I’ll cum too soon.” He groaned and you hummed,”It’s not good to keep back your own pleasure. Besides, don’t you want me to see how good you look when you fall apart?” You say with a sly smile and he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “This was supposed to be the other way around….” He commented and you laughed. 

“This is going to be your first time, right? Let me show you the ropes, rookie.” You say and you saw Leon visibly shiver. Suddenly, grinding was not enough for you and you fumble with the front of his jeans. He watches bashfully as you free him from his clothed restraints, his hot cock standing proudly against his shirt. You lick your lips at the sight. “Yes, I think this will do very nicely.” You tease and it was his turn to shove at you. You giggle as you wrap your hand around the base, a nice moan emanating from the back of Leon’s throat. “Hmmmm, let’s see~” You muse as you stroke him lazily, wondering just what you should do for his first time. Suck him off? That was tempting but didn’t he say that he wanted to be used? 

“On your back, rookie.” You command and while he was a little confused he followed your instructions, you straddling his lap once more. “What are you-” “You want to be my fuck toy, right? Then be a good boy and lay there while I use your cock for my own pleasure, okay?” You say in a breathy voice and Leon was left in a stupefied state. “Yes, ma’am!” He practically squeaked out as he laid back against the cushions of the couch. You give a smile at him and begin to undo your own jeans. Slipping off both them and your panties in one go, the sight of slick connecting to the fabric made Leon’s hips buck up. 

“Look what you did to me, rookie. Such a mess, huh?” You tease once more and Leon whines. “I’ll help clean up, ma’am. P-promise.” You hum in satisfaction and settle yourself over his tip. “Just one rule, okay? No touching - This is only for my pleasure, right?” You ask with a tilt of your head and Leon bit his bottom lip as he nodded. “Good~” And you slowly sank yourself down on him. Your head was thrown back as you were filled just right. God, past partners just couldn’t compare! 

Meanwhile, Leon’s eyes had shut completely tight as a silent groan left his mouth. Fingers dug into the cushions below as you suddenly felt a hot gush of something within you. “Ohhh, baby, did you cum?” You wonder aloud and Leon wanted to die. “I-I can keep going! I p-promise-” He didn’t want to disappoint you, not like this and you shushed him with soft kisses. “Shhh, I know, my love. This pussy is just that good, huh?” You bite at his skin and heavy pants left Leon. “Mmmm, ‘s really good.” He managed to say, giving into the pleasure further now that he was sure that he hadn’t upset you. 

 Feeling a little merciful, you say,”Just let me know if it gets too much.” And you raise yourself once more, falling back down onto Leon as you feel his tip brushing the entrance of your womb. “Mmmm, such a good boy. Letting me use him like this~” You tease as you pick a rhythm that is both stimulating yet controlled. You knew that Leon was feeling oversensitive right now and if not careful you could actually hurt him and you could never do that to him. You were the one in control right now and that meant you had to be responsible. Make him feel valid even though he wants to be used like a toy. 

He was very vocal with his pleasure, groans and moans leaving his throat as he tried his best to not grab at your hips. “[Y/N], please-””Aw, what is it baby? What do you need?” You ask in a sweet, saccharine voice. “Wanna t-touch you. Can I?” His fingers scratched at the fabric beneath him, itching to cause you even more pleasure. You hum in thought, hips gyrating instead of bouncing to tease Leon even more. “I dunno. Should I?” You ask with a lilt and Leon couldn’t refrain himself from letting out a frustrated moan. At that little display you tighten your walls and move in a way that makes both of you see stars. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Leon said in a hurry, your ego receiving a nice fluff from the sight underneath you. “Oh, alright.” As soon as you gave the go ahead, one hand found its way to your clit while the other reached underneath your shirt and bra in one go. “Ahhh, so eager~” You say with a small smile, his fingers hungry in their assault to bring you close to your own climax. “W-want to you cum on m-my cock.” Leon looked at you with blown out eyes, the once blue hue being taken over by the void of his pupils. “Yeah? Make me, rookie.” You challenge and he was happy to accept. 

 Even though his touches were that of a novice, it was still Leons’; warm, loving, seeking - it was more than enough to bring you near your orgasm. Your bounces become sloppy and you give your own whine to which Leon couldn’t help but smirk at. “Gonna cum soon.” You warn and Leon starts to meet your thrusts with his. “Mmmm, Me too.” He says with a slur,”Gonna cum in you again. Make you a mommy.” He promises against your skin as those words seemed to be what brought you completely over the edge. You let out a delicious cry of Leon’s name and coupled with the intense clamping down on his cock, Leon couldn’t stop himself from coming a second time. His hands found their way to your hips, pushing you down flush against his pelvis so that he could aim directly into your womb. 

“Such a pretty girl. MY pretty girl. Gonna be so full with my kids, fuck-” He started to babble to himself, holding you against his chest as he released inside of you. The feeling of hot cum spilling into you was far more pleasant than you thought it would be. You felt nice and marked, full with Leon and the possibility of having a little one with him. It made your heart swell. You give a small giggle and lean back, looking Leon in the eyes. “Now then, want to try to take the lead for this next one, rookie?” 

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?

My fault.

Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️

(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)

with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏

anyways, enjoy!

(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.

"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.

"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"

Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."

Y/n nodded absently.

They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.

It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.

Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.

When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"

"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."

Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.

"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"

Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"

"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"

Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."

It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-

That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.

Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.

She hated herself for it.

Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.

"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."

Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.

Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.

Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.

"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.

"Take care, Y/n."

Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."

•○🌑○•

Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.

Y/n came up lacking.

Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.

That he loved her.

She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.

She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.

The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.

That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.

"When will you stop being clumsy?"

He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.

"What?"

He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"

His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.

"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.

"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.

Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.

She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.

And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.

Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.

She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.

She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.

She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.

Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.

Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.

Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.

The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.

"Yes? How can I help you?"

Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.

"I- is Cassian here?"

The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"

Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."

Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"

"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.

A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."

Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.

"Can I have a word? In private?"

The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."

Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.

She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.

When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.

The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.

Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."

His brows furrowed. "Hi..."

She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"

He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."

His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."

She nodded. "I can tell."

Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.

"I- I can explain-"

Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."

He blinked again. "What? You... what?"

She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.

"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."

Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"

His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.

"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"

Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

"Y/n-"

But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.

But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.

And he had tears in his eyes.

"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"

Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.

"Mates?" She whispered.

Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."

Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.

She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.

"Good night."

She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

[tweetybaird]

B!TCH IM A MOTHER

Yah i’m back with another TWD blurb. this has plot at least. sorta. anyways no TW cause i don’t think it’s necessary but if anyone finds something i might need to put a warning for lemme know. this is first person POV tho. it was kinda hard to write in an x reader format.

{•_•}

am i a mother? absolutely i am. have i given birth to any children? well…no.

i’m not even completely sure when it started.

maybe it was at the farm. when i was fussing at daryl about taking care of himself and accepting help.

“dammit daryl when are you going to accept the fact that we care about you?! i get it, okay? seriously i do. better than anyone. it’s hard to accept love when you’ve never felt it before. but i, along with the rest of the group, don’t want you on your own anymore. please, just let us help you.” daryl just stared at me silently for a while, trying desperately to ignore the tears in his eyes. i couldn’t tell if the tears were from my words or because i yelled at him, in front of the entire group no less. but he didn’t take too long to respond. a mumbled “yes, mama,” fell from his lips, before he was walking to his separate camp to bring his belongings inside with the rest of us.

or maybe it was after the fact, when we were on the road after the barn fell.

when we had found a small river and the women were cleaning ourselves and i insisted the men let me fix their hair. glenn laughed with a mumbled, “sorry, mom,” when he splashed me with the water. i gave him a harsh flick on the back of his ear, “don’t do it again, glenn.”

or maybe it was before all of that, when we had first formed our group.

“merle dixon if you scare these children like that again i swear i’ll beat you black and blue!” the redneck knew better than to bother the children, yet he’d snuck up on them today, jumping out from behind a tree and roaring at them. he just chuckled at my comment, as if he couldn’t take me seriously. “what are you, my mother?” but his laughter quickly faded when he saw the look on my face, ducking his head and walking away silently.

anyways, whenever it began, i didn’t really mind it. the word didn’t hold any serious meaning behind it, simply used in a joking manner. until it was serious. until we were in the prison and carl came running into my cell crying every time he had a nightmare, when he would sob so hard he couldn’t breathe and i’d just shush him and hold him, rocking gently side to side. when he started mumbling “goodnight mama” or “love you mama” or “sweet dreams mama” before falling unconscious. when he’d say, “thanks mom,” when i brushed his hair every morning or when i helped him with words he didn’t know while reading or consoled him after an argument with his dad.

when i’d clean daryl’s injuries every time he got hurt on a run. and in the quiet solitude of my cell he’d let a couple silent tears fall from how gently i took care of him. and when i’d kiss his forehead and send him on his way after, he’d wipe his tears and whisper a barely audible, “thanks ma,” on his way out.

and when the people of woodbury joined the prison and carl was given the job of introducing everyone to our group. and not a single soul could remember my name, but they knew that i was mom or mama or whatever mother figure they needed me to be.

and when nights got too quiet and rick couldn’t handle the weight of the world on his shoulders, and i’d walk into his cell and he’d fall to his knees in front of me. he’d press his face into my stomach while he cried, and i’d run my fingers through his hair and whisper soft reassurances. and through his tears he’d cry, “i just can’t do it mama, it’s too much.” and i’d rock him too, and praise him gently, the same soft way i cared for his son.

and when the prison fell and the group met back together at terminus. and i was in a train cart with people i knew and people i didn’t. and when the introductions came to an end and all heads turned to me. and i was quiet for a moment until carl pointed and said “that’s mama. everyone calls her that. don’t ask her name ‘cause she’ll tell you a fake one since um b’cause she doesn’t know you.” and those that did know me nodded in agreement.

and maybe i did care, maybe the weight of the word pressed heavy on my chest because i knew i couldn’t have children of my own. but i had plenty of people to care for anyways. i had my own family. and i was a mama. whether they were mine or not.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Maybe you're just not worth it (maybe you're worth a little more)

born into the world with two left feet in the grave - series masterlist here

pairing: barty crouch jr x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty ig

warnings: smoking, drinking, it's a party, vague allusions to hook ups, a fight breaks out but it's only vaguely described, may I offer you the two most emotionally damaged ppl you've ever seen, there's tension and pining and they don't get together yet but it'll happen

a/n: hey finally lololol this should be a fun one but lemme know if anyone cares enough to want more of this

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fuck around with them like that?"

"I don't know what you mean, Barty," you shrug easily, twirling a cigarette between your fingers. You're propped up on one of the grand, stone windowsills in a hidden corner of the Slytherin common room, the blue-green light filtering in from the lake through the stained glass and washing over the two of you.

"Yes you do," Barty scowls, and when he stomps over to you and reaches out, you move to hand him the cigarette. But he just wraps slender, pale fingers around your wrist and lights it for you with a flick of his wand. Then he watches, tall enough to tower over you still as you sit on the sill and he stands, as you blow smoke just past his face. 

"Why are you looking at me like I'm doing something wrong?" you ask softly, tipping your head back against the cool stone wall. 

"I just don't know why you do it."

"Do what?"

"We're talking in circles," Barty snaps.

"So say something new," you quip back. He places his hands on the windowsill just shy of where you're sitting, leaning a bit closer to you. This time, you blow a puff of smoke right into his face, watching as he blinks through it. 

"Are you really going to make me work for it?" he sighs, but there's an airiness in his voice that isn't often there.

"You're a clever boy, Barty. That's what makes you so fun." You watch as he plucks the cigarette from your grasp. "Ask the right questions and you'll get the right answers."

"You don't have fun with me," he says lowly, and this time a frown tugs at his lips as he tilts his head away from you to blow smoke off to the side before passing your cigarette back to you. "Why do you fuck around with all the guys like that?"

"That's not the right question, Bart," you offer gently in lieu of a response.

"I don't care," he scowls. "Answer it anyway."

"It's just fun," you shrug. "That's what these parties are for, right? We all go, we drink, we flirt, we - it never really means anything, you know."

"I know," Barty stresses, frowning at you still. "That's my point. You're playing games that only you can win."

"You… worried I'm gonna hurt someone's feelings?" Barty's sure that it's supposed to come out as light and teasing, but your voice is quiet instead and you can't quite look at him anymore as you pluck at a stray thread on your ripped jeans. "Is it Evan? He'll be ok - he doesn't care about me, either."

"I'm worried about your feelings," he responds in a rushed sigh, and the comment makes your fidgeting fingers freeze. Your foot slips where it's propped up on the windowsill.

"I thought I was winning? Can't do that with my feelings hurt, can I?"

"You are winning." Barty reaches gentle fingers to wrap around your ankle, keeping you from slipping further off the ledge. "I'm just not sure this game is so good for you, that's all."

"I don't need a babysitter, babe," you snap back with a mocking tilt to your voice, and there's a bit more bite in your words than he deserves, probably. But Barty just tightens his grip on your ankle and stares.

"I'm trying to ask you the right question," he stresses, and the genuine waver in his voice has you pausing, twisting to put out your cigarette on the stone sill before you lean back against the glass and watch him.

"No you're not," you say quietly. He shifts, placing his hands on either side of your hips now as you spread your legs a bit to let him stand closer in front of you.

"I am," he insists gently, and a scrambling, desperate part of your brain pleads for some kind of sanctuary from his kindness - pleads to go back to before he showed you that he knew how to be gentle. "You're not letting me in."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you fuck around with me the way you fuck around with them?" And there it is, you think. And as soon as it's here, you wish you hadn't pushed for it. You wish he hadn't twisted the knife quite so far into your soul.

"Do you want me to? Hm?" It's a weak attempt, you both know, to gain some kind of control back from him. But Barty's crossed some kind of line, he knows, and he's never really learned how to back down from things like this.

"I want to know why you don't," he offers firmly, and you tilt your head to look past him into the busier part of the common room, the music rattling through people's drinks as smoke curls through the mass of students.

"Maybe you're just not worth it," you say lowly, and Barty huffs out an annoyed breath while he angles his head to look you in the eye again, trapping you in whatever it is that you're not admitting.

"Why don't you ever tell me the truth?"

"Why do you always let me get away with lying?" He's got an answer for that, you're sure. You're also sure that he's clenching his teeth together instead of telling you to spare you, just a bit. You feel a bit like a prey animal, caught between him and the window right now. You feel a bit like he's cracked your ribs open and can see the way that your heart beats in an off-kilter rhythm. 

You feel a bit like biting back - like telling him to fuck off and find someone else to whine to. But then he reaches to twirl a lock of your hair out of your face and you find yourself sighing in resignation, instead, slumping down just a bit against the cool glass.

"You're not worth it, Bart. You're worth a little bit more than all that. That's all it is."

"A little bit more, hm?" he pushes, and you roll your eyes in a vacant attempt to hide the way that your heart thumps at his voice - at the warbled little insecurity that twists somewhere almost unseen in him.

"You deserve something good," you offer haltingly. He scowls a bit at that - and you know his ticks and his movements enough to know it as an act of love.

"And you don't?"

"I have what I deserve - what I want, I mean." Your head's starting to hurt, you think, something about the music and the alcohol and Barty mixing together into some kind of oncoming illness - some kind of reason to run away.

"Why do you mess with people so much? Why can't you just - be honest, god, for fucking once." There's a bit of bite coming back to Barty's voice, and you can't help but perk up at it, recognizing this more than anything else.

"You're the only one who ever knows when I'm lying, you know," you say instead of answering, and Barty knows you well enough by now - knows your movements and your subtleties enough to know it as an act of surrender. 

"Of course I do," he sighs. "You're my…"

"Friend?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Ouch," you say dryly. He shoots you a pleading look.

"I'm not this nice to my friends," he offers softly. You cock your head to the side.

"And I'm not this mean to mine." Barty hums a bit at that, leaning back on his heels as he lets his eyes sweep over your frame. 

"You're allowed to be, you know."

"What?"

"Kind," he says simply. You reach up to flick him on the forehead.

"Speak for yourself," you murmur, but he's staring at you like he's not sure how to let you get away this time. 

It's a shame, then, he thinks, when the party just beyond the two of you gets a bit too rowdy. It's a pity, really, when a fight breaks out - Evan and Regulus getting tangled up with a few loud Gryffindors. Barty swears that he sees the older Black brother mixed up in it, too, and pulls a hand away from the windowsill as he gets caught between helping or hurting. He sways on his feet a bit as he wonders whether to try to break up the fight or if he should just join in. 

Then he thinks that maybe… he understands a bit more what it is that you're not saying to him. 

"Better luck next time, Bart." It's your voice in his ear, then, that jerks him back, and he doesn't have time to appreciate the way that you've leaned up on your toes and wrapped your hand around his bicep to whisper in his ear. He doesn't have time to catch you or trap you again before you're slipping away into the fray, disappearing into some sweaty, dark corner of a party gone stale. 

One of the Gryffindors stumbles out of the fight, his round glasses askew and his dark curls tousled, and Barty rolls up his sleeves and sighs.

Oh well, he thinks as he grabs the older boy by the collar of his shirt. Better luck next time.

[deathofacupid]

helloo this is my first time in a while requesting so if this doesn't make much sense then that's whyy

could I please request peter parker with an s/o who does competitive cheer as a sport, and gets hurt a lot because they have a lot of main parts in routines (like tumbling nd holding girls up nd stuff), peter is always concerned for them cuz they r always hurting something but he also loves seeing them perform at comps and stuff

if you want a better understanding of the sport u could research! but thanks in advance <3

pom-poms and bruises | peter parker

a/n: your request was great, no worries! i did do my fair share of research, but lemme tell you, my knowledge on cheer (or, like, any sport) is mad limited. if i got some information incorrect, i apologize in advance! i took... creative liberties (?) and changed some minor details - instead of competitive cheer, it's high school cheer. enjoy the fic, and i hope i did this request it's justice. sorry this took so long!!

summary: peter can't help but worry seeing you all bruised up, but no matter what, he's your biggest fan.

warnings: the ouchies, innuendos to sex

pairing: fem!cheerleader!reader x peter parker

word count: 1.8k+ words

"oh jeez," peter sighs, rubbing his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. it was a blue-purple, indicating that it was fresh. "what happened?"

you wave him off, grinning, "you know how it goes, battle scars and all."

"scar?" he cocks a brow.

sighing, "battle bruise isn't half as badass."

"right, i forgot the most important thing is proclaiming our dominance in the social hiearchy of the big ol' globe. and obviously not our physical health."

"you wouldn't understand, baby. it's a full time job."

gently, peter pushes you up against your locker. leaning in to whisper, he says, "i wouldn't, angel? best believe i've got battle scars of my own."

"ugh. so not the same. not everyone has the luck of getting to be a human-spider."

"yeah, okay, luck."

"you seriously cannot complain," you deadpan. "that bite did you favors! like, down there, you grew at least- mmph-!"

peter covers your mouth with his hand, "we are not having this conversation."

"it was a compliment! i mean, it's not like you sucked before or anything. i'm just saying it... improved... you."

"somehow, this isn't going the direction you think it is."

"oops. i didn't mean to hurt your over-inflating ego."

"first off, if anyone has an ego that needs to be kept in check, it's you."

"don't blame me," you tell him, "blame the girls," you're referring to your cheer team, pinching his cheeks. "but... maybe i can compensate with a kiss?"

he feigns annoyance, "i suppose." in response, you lean in for a kiss, melting at his touch.

peter kisses your bruise as well, letting it linger for a moment longer. "does it hurt?" he asks.

"barely," you shrug, leaning in for more, but he isn't quite focused on that at the moment. giving you a look, he softly pokes your cheek, to which you wince.

"right. barely."

"don't be a worry-wart, worry-wart."

"i'm not! 'm just concerned!"

"puh-lease," you scoff. "you come back worse! remember that time you broke and entered into my bedroom, then proceed to bleed out onto that cute new rug?"

he looks down, epitome of cute puppy. "yes," peter says, guilty, "i do."

you pat his stomach, nuzzling your nose against his. "see? so you have nothing to worry about. me, on the other hand," you trail off.

"nah. you don't have anything to worry about either, angel."

"watch me worry anyways," you snort.

he pinches your cheeks, and you swat his hands away. "watch it!"

"you're my intellectual property."

"oh, so you're objectifying me now?"

"wait- no! no, of course not!"

"lemme me just say right now, may would not be happy."

peter groans, shoving you away.

"no!" you giggle, "i'm sorry! i won't snitch!"

he peeks an eye open, turning his head just barely to look at you. "fine, i guess," peter pulls you back.

"hey, petey?"

"hm?" he asks, nuzzled in your neck. there's just a few minutes before class starts, and he wants to make the most of it.

"are you coming to the game? it's my first year of being captain, and, well, it'd be cool if you came." suddenly you're more bashful than giggly, and he's quick to assure you.

"are you kidding me? of course i'm coming. i'm not missing the chance to see my girl shine.

"you sure? because i know you don't care for foot-"

"shhh," he presses his palm to your mouth. "yeah, i hate football, but i just to happen to love y- god!" he exclaims as you lick his hand, but in your defense, what did peter expect?"

"you put in on my mouth!"

peter narrows his eyes at you, "vermin."

"see you tonight?"

"see you tonight," peter replies as the bell rings. with one last kiss, you part ways.

your hair was done, two yellow and blue bows to tie the look together. midtown theme eyeshadow was painted on your eyelids, with stars dotted on your cheekbones. you have your cheer uniform on, and you're basically jumping with how giddy you are.

part of you is nervous, because you don't want to mess this up. every year, a senior is picked to be captain, with a junior as a mentee. not only do you have to set a good example for the junior this year, but you have to wow everyone.

checking your makeup one more time, you grab your purse, heading out to the car.

by the time you get there, your teammates are already stretching. on the other side of the field, football players are warming up. last year, liz was captain, well, before she moved. then she got replaced by gwen.

you knew liz and peter... okay, so you weren't completely sure, but they had something. some part of you wanted to be better than liz, entirely for peter. you know it was silly, but you felt like you had something to prove. some families are already in, which is funny, because there's an hour to the game.

it's normally parents and friends of the cheerleaders/players that get here before most people, but there are some occasions.

peter's here, you know that. you haven't looked for him yet, but as you get up, you scan the bleacher. finally, you spot a curly, brown-haired boy (it helps that he's waving like crazy) and his aunt. you blow a kiss to them, grin present of your face.

tasha, one your girls, taps your shoulder, "we're gonna run our routine a couple times, okay? just before the game starts." you pull your eyes away from may and peter, nodding at her.

the familiar music of your routine starts playing. the first part's easy, synchronized movements, shoulder-to-shoulder.

as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

as you launch yourself into the backflip, you feel your body twist off-axis. the ground rushes up to meet you, and with a sickening thud, you land flat on your face. a gasp escapes your lips, the sting of impact radiating through your jaw.

the cheers falter for a moment, but your teammates are quick to react. they rush to your side, concern etched on their faces. you sit up, momentarily stunned, but the pain quickly makes itself known.

just as soon as it's there, it's gone, leaving you slightly sore. "i'm okay!" you call out, lopsided smile on your face. the first person you look for is peter, who's already heading towards you.

gently, he moves everyone away. "jesus, are you okay? what'd you fall onto? your head? wait, are you dizzy? lightheaded? nauseated?" peter grabs your by the chin, hurry to inspect everything on your face.

"baby, baby," you say, cradling his hand. "i'm okay, i swear. i might've bruised something... like my ego," you joke, smile on your face, but he is not amused.

"no? okay. well, honestly my jaw is too, or will be," you point to the left side. "'s red?"

"yeah," he winces, "it's gonna leave a nasty bruise." you're sure it's not as bad with makeup on, but you can't be sure.

"does anyone have concealer?" you call out.

jenny, a girl that's your shade nods, "yeah! i'll grab it!" she tosses it to you, and you catch it perfectly.

peter presses his lips together, "so no concussion?"

"because i caught it? to be fair, that was mostly luck."

his eyes widen. "but no! i don't have any concussions!"

peter tilts his head, "icepack?"

"nah. i'm good, really."

he hesitates, "okay. be careful though, seriously." you don't feel like hearing a lecture right now, so you nod quickly.

"i will, i will!"

"because i swear-"

"you won't have to! i'm all good. now leave," you joke, "you're embarrassing me. if i wanted to be smothered, i would've asked for my mom."

he blows a raspberry at you, and gives you a quick kiss. "be careful," he repeats, "and good luck!" he jogs back over to may, and you watch him leave.

jenny giggles as you brush yourself off, "you guys are so cute."

blushing, you murmur a thanks. quickly, you grab your phone to cover up the forming bruise. and there's not really time for another run-through.

all you can do is hope it won't happen again.

there's a small dance at the start of the game and some other here and there, but it's not anything crazy. what is crazy is halftime.

as you get into your position, you fidget. "you'll be great," one of the girls tell you.

"thank you," you smile.

"yeah, no, you will," says another.

you don't feel super ready, not after that fall, but there's not much you can do about it.

the song, louder than before, echoes through your eardrums, a roll of excitement passes through you. no matter how anxious you are, you'll always love cheer.

it's your safe place.

the music swells, and you launch into a series of cheers with your teammates, your voice ringing out in perfect unison. as the routine progresses, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. you spot the base of the pyramid, their arms outstretched, and with a deep breath, you allow yourself to be pulled upwards.

their grip is firm and reassuring as you climb, hand over hand, until you reach the apex. a split second later, you're soaring through the air, launching into a full backflip.

you twist perfectly, landing with a confident thud back in the waiting arms of your base. the crowd erupts in cheers, and you beam, the thrill of the successful stunt coursing through you.

you did it, and everyone's squealing. peter's not that far from where you are, and you can hear him shrieking; "that's my girlfriend!"

you grin at him, and he whoops again.

the rest of the game flies by, and you finish the last routine. midtown ends up winning 20-17.

peter scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around. "that was awesome! seriously, like, mind-blown! and you didn't fall this time!"

may comes up beside him, hugging you, "you did fantastic, sweetheart. freaked me out with that fall, though," she chuckles, and you kiss her cheek. "my bad," you tell her, rubbing the back of your neck.

"hey, pete, hun, i'm gonna head out, okay? hospital shift was crazy."

you frown, "was it late?"

may sighs, "two a.m. to five p.m."

"oh, may, you should've gone home to get rest!"

"and miss my lovely girl's big night? you're crazy."

"aww," you coo, hugging her again. "sleep well, okay?"

"oh, please, i'll be knocked out like a baby." you laugh as she leaves.

"we should totally get ice cream," peter says.

"ooh, yes!"

"wait, don't you have an after party?"

"i'd rather spend it with you," peter pecks your lips. "and, we can have extra dessert," he winks.

you frown in confusion, "like cupcakes too? can we get cho- oh. oh! i really, really like that idea."

"good. i'm gonna let you know how badass of a girlfriend you are."

"why don't we skip straight to the second dessert? switch things up?"

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7 @477strberry

[juyeonszn]

JUST FOR ME

PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.26k

GENRES kinda fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, apparently ji changmin has a secret, established relationship, a whisker away ref <3, dacryphilia lol, making out, oral (m!receiving), face fucking lol, cum eating lol, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY ji changmin had a secret.

MORE hellaur hellaur!! i cannot believe i’ve written 8 of these in the past month like i’m actually sick in the head. but maybe u guys are even sicker for reading them idk… once fawntober is over i think i might spontaneously combust. ANYWAY i would like to dedicate this to the resident jichang lover <3 beam <3 consider this a late birthday gift <3 if u enjoyed pls rb!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Ji Changmin had a secret.

A very big secret that he would never dare tell to anyone else. Not his friends. Not even you. Whether it was because he wanted to keep this to himself, take it to the grave type beat, or because he was embarrassed— the world may never know.

But as you cuddle into his side, sniffling over this stupid animated movie, he realizes that his big secret might be harder to keep to himself than he thought.

He’s seen A Whisker Away with you probably hundreds of times by now, and he’s seen you cry each and every time, but for some reason this is the one that gets to him. The sight of your pretty tears trickling down your cheeks, eyes slightly puffy and lips pouty, has his thinking clouded. Typical Y/N behavior, living in his mind rent free like it was your career.

He hopes the thick comforter of your bed hides just how turned on he is, licking his lips when a tear drips down your chin and onto your chest. Don’t even get him started on your pajama choice. Nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy linen shorts. Did you know that you were just one action away from sending him into cardiac arrest?

Changmin doesn’t even notice that the movie has ended and the credits are displayed, eyes still trained on the stray teardrops rolling down your sternum. It’s not until you’re reaching above your head to stretch, leg bumping into his hard on.

You turn to him with wide eyes and a gasp. “Changmin! No way you’re fucking horny right now.”

“I’m not?” His response comes out more like a question than a statement, so of course you don’t believe him in the slightest. You give him a pointed look.

“How could you possibly be hard after watching that?” Your eyebrows raise, judging him wholeheartedly without knowing the full story. Though, he’s almost certain you’d still judge him then, too. Who wouldn’t? Getting turned on by the sight of his girlfriend crying wasn’t exactly something that people would think is normal.

“That’s— uh— that’s not what— you know what, never mind. We can just go to sleep if you’re tired—” Changmin really wished you weren’t so persistent sometimes. Then again, your persistence was the reason you were together in the first place.

“No, I’m wide awake now,” you simper, a sly little smile that looks out of place paired with the tear streaks on your cheeks. “Lemme help you, Min.”

You peel back the covers, straddling his lap. Changmin groans, throwing his head back when your barely clothed warmth presses down on his erection. Your fingers card through his hair before you lean in to kiss him.

It’s slow at first, lips moving together gently as you work yourself up. One of the things Changmin loved about you was the fact that you were always so eager to please. He had a tendency of not asking for anything unless absolutely necessary, but with your keen sense of perception, you just knew when he needed a little extra care. Like right now, for example.

His hands find your hips, grinding them into his own as he nips your bottom lip. You sigh into the kiss, parting just enough to catch your breath. He slips his fingers under the waistband of your shorts but you shake your head.

“Mm-mm,” you start to pepper kisses all over his face and jaw, trailing down his neck. “Let me do the work. You just relax, okay?”

The service top he was, Changmin thought it would be a bit difficult to just let you have the reins. However, he pulls away his hands anyway, allowing you to exhibit your magic. You smile contentedly, shimmying down so your face was level with his crotch.

Changmin watches with bated breath as you haul his sweatpants and underwear down his legs in one go. He fists your hair in a makeshift ponytail, darting out his tongue to wet his lips when you leave a sweet kiss to the tip of his cock. He hisses as you wrap your hands around the base, pumping his length agonizingly slow.

His hips buck up into your hands, teeth gritted when your lips envelope the head. Your tongue drags over his slit, collecting the precum that’s begun to form. You moan when the taste of him settles, one hand sliding under his t-shirt to claw at his abdomen.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, you take him fully into the warm coziness of your mouth. Every time you gave Changmin head, you tried not to push yourself to swallow him wholly. You were afraid of embarrassing yourself by not being able to fit his impressive size down your throat. This time was different. You felt the need to provide him the best pleasure possible.

He thinks he might combust, focus zeroed in on your plush lips going further down his length and meeting your hand. Your eyes flutter open, making contact with his as you twist your wrist and start to bob your head. Changmin groans, using his free hand to fist at the sheets below you. You looked so fucking filthy like this, ass perked up in the air as you sucked him off like your life depended on it. But good God, you managed to still look absolutely gorgeous, even with the drool dribbling along your chin.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightens and he pushes your head down, forcing you to engulf his cock more than you already had. You gag, but steel yourself to power through. Changmin accepts his fate and lets himself loosen up, a conniving grin spreading across his lips.

“Gonna let me fuck your face, baby?” He coos, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed.

You moan in approval, pulling off just to respond. “Mhm. Want you to feel good.”

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he bites his lip, bringing your face closer to kiss your swollen lips, your hand still jerking him off. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

He can taste himself on your mouth and it makes his release that much more exciting. You break apart, returning to what you were doing previously. This time, however, Changmin doesn’t hold himself back. He starts to fuck up into the wet heat of your mouth, cock sliding down your throat with a choked groan following each thrust.

Your eyes water, and before you know it, tears are tracking on your cheeks. He nearly whines, all sense of restraint lost completely as you continue to wrap around him, tongue swirling around the tip and running along each vein. Changmin feels insane, his orgasm building up higher and higher the more you take him— the more you cry for him.

It’s when one of your teardrops drips onto his stomach, your thumb swiping across his hip bone, that he cums into your mouth with a moan so out of character, you almost join him. You try to swallow everything he gives you, but it’s so much that you have to pull off of him, feeling it slip down the side of your mouth. Your hips roll into the bed to release some of the friction that formed.

Changmin wipes away the mixture of saliva and cum on your chin, stamping another slow kiss to your lips. You straddle him once again, whimpering when he presses up into your already sensitive cunt.

He smiles, fingers dipping into your shorts. “You did so well, baby. Let me return the favor.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.