#but know she’s wearing some sick ass heels

[lesbian-jack-barnabas]

hey guys. drew Ava in The Dress. Is it gettinf warm in here or is it just me

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

noise complaints (pt 1? maybe)

A/N: I don’t even like do this but you sick sick fucks wouldn’t write the pure filth I loosely requested so here we are!

Summary: You and Rio go out to a party with your old classmates on a night when Agatha is stuck on patrol. The two of you are having fun when something interrupts the celebration…

Warnings: use of “Y/N”, general party stuff idk, voyeurism, being hit on by V*sion, part two would be rough sesbian lex and that is alluded to 🎉

Pairing: Dom!Older!Cop!Agatha x Younger!Sub!Reader x Younger!Brat!Rio

NSFW below MDNI 🔥🔥🔥

This had been the plan for weeks now, ever since you and Rio received a text invite from your mutual college friend inviting you to a small reunion “get-together”.

The description of the event was misleading, as the two of you knew from your college friendship with the girl named Alice, and it took quite a bit of persuasion from the two of you to convince your girlfriend, Agatha, to let you go to what was sure to be a rager.

Since you and Rio had met in high school and were in a sort of FWB relationship for a year in college before meeting Agatha (who turned out to be the missing piece you needed to form a real relationship) she had a tendency to get jealous- Especially when the two of you hung out with your other friends from the years before you knew the older woman.

What she didn’t know was that you two were obsessed with her from the moment you all met at your forensics mixer where she was giving a presentation on her work with the police force in the town you and Rio grew up in, and that you still worshipped her after all this time.

She eventually caved, giving you and Rio the go ahead to attend the party when she realized she would be stuck with patrol duty on that night anyway. So now, you and the younger of your girlfriends stood back-to-front in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, admiring one another.

Rio’s arms snake around your waist, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear as she whispers, “You look so.. so good, Y/N. I’m not sure Agatha will let us out the door with you looking like this.” She smirks as she slips that last part in and ducks down to kiss down the side of your neck to your shoulder, where she eventually rests her chin. A faint red paints your face as you meet her eyes in the mirror and admire her own outfit.

She wears your favorite black jeans that were perfectly tight around her hips and ass, but flowed out to a baggy straight cut towards the bottom and a loose, barely-buttoned, sheer black button-up shirt. It was a simple look, but one that drove you crazy when she wore it, especially now with her hair down, air-dried and wavy.

In front of her, you wore and equally simple and captivating tight black dress with Agatha’s black leather jacket and matching high-heeled boots. You look back to meet Rio in a short but passionate kiss, pulling away only when you felt your older girlfriend’s presence, watching from the door frame where she leant with her chin tilted and arms crossed across her chest.

“So I can’t leave the two of you alone for three minutes before you forget your rules with each other… How am I supposed to trust you two sluts without me at this party for hours?” Agatha speaks through her teeth before taking quick strides towards you two. She sits on the edge of the bed just a foot away from where you stand now, jaw dropped and still pressed against Rio.

“Go ahead, keep going. Let me know what kind of show you plan to put on for those classmates of yours.” It has to be a trap. If you don’t press yourself back against your girlfriend, you’d be disobeying her, but if you do, you’d be confirming her accusations in some sick way.

Instead, Rio speaks up. “We don’t want to put on a show for anyone but you, Agatha, swear. You’re the only one who can see us like this.”

You can see the wheels turning in Agatha’s mind as she stares at Rio for a second longer before standing back up. She grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a bruising kiss while her free hand finds Rio’s ass. The latter whines at the combination of the sight of her girlfriends kissing so close to her and the possessive grip Agatha assumes on her curves.

Agatha pulls away from you while dragging your bottom lip away with her teeth, just enough to draw the smallest drops of blood to taste through the night and remember her by. “You wanna speak up, doll?”

Rio’s eyes are clouded with lust as her pointer and middle fingers fiddle with her bottom lip as she shakes her head. A firm grip wraps around her wrist and pulls the fingers away, only to be quickly replaced with those of your older girlfriend. “Open.” The single-worded command barely gets a second to hang in the air before Rio invites the pair of digits into her mouth, yearning for the way Agatha always slightly tipped her head back and tightened her jaw as she took in the overwhelming act of submission from the (eight months) older of her two young girlfriends.

Once she’s decided it’s enough, she slides her fingers out and walks away from the two of you. Once she reaches the door frame, she speaks. “Alright. You two can still go. But if I find out that just one of those whores looks at you guys with any kind of intentions or ideas… You’ll wish you never asked to leave this room. Especially dressed like that.” Both you and Rio know better than to question how she would find out about something like that.

“Have a good shift, hon, text us if you need us to bring anything home.” Is all you manage to squeak out before she slips out of the doorway with a horrifying silence.

You and Rio finish getting ready in a shared silence, only speaking again when you get in the car and play your car-eoke playlist, and even then you’re just screaming to what’s essentially a Soulja Boy highlight reel.

Your previous confrontation with Agatha had been long forgotten once you and Rio grabbed a beer each and joined Alice in the family room, littered with an equal mix of creepy has-been men who peaked when you knew them in highschool and the girls whose company you’d actually enjoyed between the long nights you spent with Rio, both slumped over your textbooks since Rio always seemed to “displace” hers.

You were so caught up in a conversation about the shoddy collection of local bookshops with Alice that you hadn’t noticed Rio signaling you to look towards the pair of boys stumbling towards you two. You were deep in such a tipsy passionate rant about the only quality vintage bookstore in Westview that you didn’t even notice the boys until one of them grabbed your shoulder, the other mirroring his brother’s actions on your girlfriend, spinning you and Rio so that you were facing them.

Overcome with disgust, you brush the slightly taller of the two’s hand off of your shoulder, then shoving the other’s off of Rio’s and grabbing her wrist.

“Woah, calm down! You ladies are even feistier than I remember from senior year.” Now you remembered their names. Vision and a boy you only knew by his lame ass basketball nickname, Wonderman. The pair’s cockiness had always made you despise them, though it was clear they didn’t catch that vibe from the way they insisted on teasing and talking to you every science class that you had together. Obviously they hadn’t learned that, even now.

“Did your mom raise you with like, any manners at all? Don’t fucking touch her. Don’t touch ME.” Rio spat, turning to lead you away and into the kitchen by your grip on her wrist when Vision caught your other wrist.

“Yo, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Vision, and you can call my brother here W,” the one gripping your wrist says, followed by the other saying, “We couldn’t help but notice you ladies from across the room… And judging by your fits, you two were seeking some attention from some guys like us.” You seriously couldn’t believe anything they were saying was real, it seemed to be straight out of a Chat-GPT generated high school movie script.

Neither you nor Rio had a chance to respond before the room was flooded with red and blue lights from through the windows, disrupting the energy and silencing everyone- that was until Alice scrambled on top of her coffee table and yelled, “Noise complaint! Cops! Get the fuck out!”

You and Rio, along with everyone else, were quick to file out. Unfortunately for the two of you, the entire men’s basketball team seemed to be in attendance and pushed you further into the house during your attempted escape, meaning you were the last two out.

However, you seemed to finally be in the clear as you found footing on the beer-soiled grass… and so did the sweaty boys from before. They grasped your shoulders once more, saying they were “So glad we could find you ladies and make sure you’re safe” since you “Need a few strong men to help you out of such a scary situation.” Just then, a booming, staticky voice is emitted and echos all around the four of you.

“Boys, take your hands off of those ladies or so help me God, I will throw you in the back of this car and you won’t see anything but the brick walls of a county cell for weeks.” The voice called out, sending chills through all four of your spines. The boys because they weren’t nearly as brave as they liked to present themselves as, and you and Rio because you knew who was behind the speaker system. Agatha.

The boys split, and you and Rio are frozen as Agatha slowly approaches, hands in her pockets, her uniform clinging to her deliciously.

Once she’s close enough to feel the fear radiating off of her girlfriends, she speaks so lowly you can hear the rasp in her throat.

“So let me get this right, girls. I, against my better judgement, let you whores go to this party because you begged me so, so prettily for weeks, even after that little stunt I walked in on a few hours ago. I’m out patrolling for all of an hour when I go to investigate a noise complaint and see you allowing two sleezebags to touch what’s mine? Are you out of your fucking minds?”

You’re now trembling with fear at the intensity of her voice, horrified of what’s coming for you. Rio is buzzing with excitement at the vast amount of possibilities for the night ahead of you all. Agatha, well-tuned to each of your tells, reads this perfectly.

Should I do a part two or am I the only person that wants any of this LMK lol bye

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

Chapter 4

1 2 3 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

'Slight' Yandere! Dion Agriche x Reader

Arranged marriage AU

SOME SPOILERS FROM THE NOVEL ABOUT JEREMY'S MOM

Warnings: possible slight yandere themes, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana”, implied toxic marriage/relationship, slightly suggestive, implied suicide, slight themes of jealousy, mention of murder, vomit, Reader is a fangirl for Roxana, everyone is out of character I gave up in trying to keep them in character completely, Possible slight possessive themes, and maaayyybbee implied stalking. It’ll make more sense as the series goes on.

DISCLAMIER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT REBLOG FAN ART OR FANFICTION DNI. PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS.

Overall chapter summary: Dinner with your husband felt suffocating… and why did Jeremy and Roxana show up? Why is your younger brother-in-law acting so weird all of a sudden…

Word count: 3086k

===

You didn’t dream about anything. You don’t even feel rested.

So, of course, Hana decided to cake your face in foundation to hide the dark circles under your eyes. How thoughtful, truly. Although, it would have been more thoughtful of her if she lied and said you were sick. But no, instead you’re grabbing onto the bed post as she tightens the corset.

Your organs are being squeezed to death and you bite your tongue, not willing to scream bloody murder. It wasn’t a pride thing, you promise – you just didn’t want to look too weak in front of anyone in this household. You didn’t want to be looked down on too much.

“Gah!”

“I’m sorry, my lady. Hm…” Hana ponders over something before saying, “I’ll loosen it. Just a bit.” And as she said she loosens the strings. Just enough to where your organs weren’t squashed together. You release a breath once you gain some breathing room.

God, please, have some pity and let Dion stand me up… and for no-one else to join me. Please, please, please!

You beg internally. The best outcome would be for one-one to show up. The worst…Lant, Maria and or Fontaine decide to, antagonizing you. Yeah, you think. Maybe Dion showing up wasn’t the worst.

Hopefully, anyway. Otherwise, you might vomit on the spot. Everything sucks. Why can’t he just leave you be. But you start thinking about it. Maybe Lant ordered his favorite son to have dinner with you. To show dominance over you, maybe?

Sounds like something Lant would tell Dion. That bastard is unable to see past his ass.

“Hana, by any chance… do you know if it’s only Dion that’s showing up?” you ask, praying that her answer will be ‘yes.’ You could probably handle your husband. If he treats you with indifference, then you could. But Lant?

No, no way in hell.

“Well… yes.” she finishes fixing the corset before dressing you in the dress you picked out. It wasn’t anything flashy, just a simple design. Chest covered with long sleeves that end in small ruffles. The dress ends a bit above your feet. Dress black in color, Hana chose maroon heels to go with it.

But the material was softer than your usual dresses. Far more expensive, too – your family wasn’t poor by any means. However, this single dress just shows how much the Agriche family holds wealth in high regard. You guess it only makes sense – they didn’t play nice and fair.

Their money was dirty money. And that fact makes your skin crawl, feeling dirty just for wearing these clothes. Lant had all the clothes you brought with you thrown out. Most likely to say, ‘Hey! Look at me, taking care of my daughter-in-law! Can’t you see how thoughtful we are about spending so much money on her?’

How laughable.

How egotistical.

You want nothing more than to set fire to these clothes. They are nothing more than a show of ownership. Like you were a pet.

No. you are a pet. Lant’s to be specific – and he’s just letting Dion play with you. Your husband only took the leash because he was ordered to. Nothing more, nothing less.

But how long until he gives you back to his father? If he decides you’re nothing but a hassle? Found you to be so boring compared to Roxana? Until he grew tired of his mother questioning him about your every move, nagging him to show up with you?

What about public events? You know that Lant likes to bring Dion and Roxana with him – they are his ‘trophies’ after all. But you? Then again, people would start to talk if Dion Agriche’s wife never made a public appearance. Word has traveled across the country by now, wondering how grand the wedding was.

How you looked. If you are love birds or if you are a victim of threats. If your parents sold you off to pay their debts.

…why did they marry you off?

“- lady?” Hana calls out, making you jump in your seat a bit. Wait. When did she start doing your hair? Hell, when did you even take a seat?

“My Lady?” she addresses you again, looking at you through the mirror. She doesn’t stop brushing your hair. She’s gentle with it. “Are you okay?”

Ah, right, you should reply.

“Y-yes… forgive me, I was just…” thinking about how Lant will kill you, “lost in my thoughts.”

“I see.”

The room goes quiet. You look at your reflection in the mirror. You don’t look like yourself. You look haggard, adorned in precious jewels that bring out the color in your eyes, only to be fearful. Your completion looks artificial due to the heavy layer of foundation that barely covers your dark circles.

You look like a lost, helpless lamb.

You practice smiling.

“Hana?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“How convincing does my smile look?”

She turns her attention from your hair to your reflection. She doesn’t answer at first. Rather, she stares hard, tilting her head only to shake it. “Not much. But it’s only going to be master Dion. Master Lant is on a business trip. So, rest assure; he won’t… um, care.”

She’s soft with her reply, like she didn’t want to offend you. Not like you cared – if he doesn’t look your way then it’s a good day. Even better if he keeps his mouth shut except for a greeting and a goodbye. If he bothers with it anyway.

“I see.” You shouldn’t get your hopes up, though. He gave you advice despite leaving after consummating your marriage. He was somewhat thoughtful during it too, and if you think about it harder, he almost seemed…possessive. And during the engagement party, he was mostly with Lant. And at your wedding he was, once again, with Lant. But… you did feel someone staring holes into your back during both events.

Was it him, you wonder.

funny, since he barely spoke a word to you during that period.

“And with that, we are done, my lady.” Hana’s good with her hands – you look pretty. If you ignore your haggard face. And tired eyes.

“Thank you, Hana. It’s lovely.” You compliment her genuinely. And for once, a true sweet smile paints your lips. She looks away after seeing it through the reflection. You see the tips of her ears turn pink, however.

To think she had a cute side.

“Thank you, my lady. But I only enhanced your natural beauty.” Apparently, she’s also a charmer.

“Still,” you turn around to look at her, feeling some peace within you, “you did wonderfully.” You were never good at giving compliments, but hopefully she knows you mean it. This feels normal. You don’t want it to end. You don’t want to leave this room. You don’t want to see your husband.

---

Dion doesn’t even look flustered once he sees your figure walking towards the table. Hana called you beautiful – he makes you feel less. While he doesn’t look at you in disgust, he also doesn’t look at you in awe. Just indifference. But maybe that’s for the best.

You glance around the room after greeting him – just you, him, and Hana. The good outcome. The best outcome would be that no-one showed up.

Okay, you tell yourself. You’re on the battlefield. Your opponent is Dion Agriche. Not the worst enemy…probably, but a strong and brutal one regardless. As long as you don’t anger or annoy him, you should be fine. Hopefully.

You take your seat across from him, quiet as a mouse. Should you start a conversation? Wait for him to start one? Or just keep the heavy silence that’s suffocating you? How… how does he feel?

You’re curious but not suicidal.

No words are exchanged as a servant serves the food. Only clinking of your cutlery against your plates echoes in the room. Your stomach can’t stop churning and your mouth feels dry. Every piece of food you swallow feels like it’s choking you.

Even when you drink the water it doesn’t help. Even so, you push through – you had to. Show little to no weakness to your husband who holds no attachment to you. Not that you can talk, of course. He’s nothing more than a dangerous stranger to you.

… how much more of this damn silence can you take? Your eyes won’t leave your plate. And that’s when you notice, it’s a light meal. Chickpea pasta salad. Okay… a weird choice for dinner, but it’s better than having something heavy in your stomach.

You would have thrown up otherwise.

Out of curiosity you glance up at Dion to see if he had the same meal. He did and your shoulders relax. Maybe he liked it. Yeah, that’s it – why would he be considerate? Everything else that just so happened to be convenient for you? Maria’s words?

It was and meant nothing.

Your attention returns to your plate. It’s nearly gone. Good, even though you feel like you might choke on it. You need to ask Hana for more indigestion medicine after this. Oh, right.

You should probably ask him about… that.

“D-Dion, I was wondering- “

“Wow! The bastard is spending time with his victim?”

You wince at the sound of your younger brother-in-law, Jeremy. Your grip on your fork also becomes loose, dropping onto your plate. You didn’t expect him of all people to make a surprise appearance.

Still, he’s better than Lant. As long as he doesn't pick a fight with his older half-brother. And for your sake, you hope he doesn’t. Wait.

… at the wedding he could barely keep his mouth shut. Lant and Roxana had to shut it for him. Ah… is he going to pick a fight? Here in the dining room? Oh boy… I don’t want to be here…

Wait, did he just call you a victim?

“Jeremy.” Dion ‘greets’ him but it’s clear that his younger brother’s surprise appearance annoys him. “I see that you’re loud as always.” After that, Dion goes back to eating. Like his number two hater didn’t crash the dinner. Hopefully his number one hater won’t show up –

“Jeremy, I thought we’ve been over this.” A soft, feminine yet firm voice calls out to the youngster. You recognize that voice anywhere.

Your heart rate picks up as butterflies soar in your chest. Your cheeks feel warm – a fluffy, sweet haze takes over your mind. It’s as lovely as when you first heard it at your engagement party. But you don’t feel worthy enough to view the beauty that is Roxana Agriche.

Still, you can’t resist the urge to peek.

Long wavy golden hair that ends at mid back, her bangs framing her slightly pointy face. Big ruby eyes with golden lashes that see through you. One of her dainty hands rubs Jeremy’s head. It’d be a lie to say you weren’t slightly jealous.

But you know that you should keep her at arm’s length. She’s not necessary evil, but…

You don’t want to be caught up in her schemes, if she finds you useful. After all, being part of her plan doesn’t guarantee your safety. So, you’ll just admire her from afar, like a fangirl.

Heat crawls up from your neck to the tip of your ears when she returns your gaze. You think you might faint from happiness the moment she smiles at you sweetly. You greet your in-laws, but a hole is being burned into your person. Who’s staring?

“It’s been a while,” again you don’t know how to address your in-laws. But you do a curtsy after rising from your seat, hoping they don’t notice the shake in your voice. Beautiful or not, your favorite character is extremely dangerous. Still, it’s a dream come true to see her so soon.

“Hah! She has manners, unlike you, dickhead.” Jeremy exclaims. It’s funny. While you know he despises your husband, you do find it a bit surprising that he would bad mouth him in front of you. You’re also surprised to run into these two so early into your moving into this mansion.

Now, you should figure out a way to fade into the background. Maybe return to your room before things get out of hand.

“Jeremy, that’s not nice,” Roxana scolds without meaning it. If anything, she might find the show enjoyable. Unfortunately for you, it only makes you uneasy. She glances at you before turning her attention to the young boy. They’re not even that far apart in age – just a year.

Wait. No. Before being reincarnated Roxana was a college student.

You push that fact out of mind.

“But look at her! Does she look like she’s having the time of her life?” he points at you, unknowing of how rude it could come across. You keep your trap shut, only smiling awkwardly before rebutting his very true accusation gently.

“Young master Jeremy,” that’s probably the best way to address him, “I’m completely fine. But thank you for your concern.” To be fair, you think, Dion probably doesn’t want to be here either.

You want to add ‘you’re sweet’ to your sentence but decide against it. It’s too intimate. Too friendly and casual. And you have a feeling your husband wouldn’t like that.

His attention hasn’t left you since Roxana came. Was he… jealous? That his sister was paying attention to you instead of him? Or did he find you unworthy of talking to her? Oh! Maybe he’s upset that you and Jeremy are here with him and Roxana.

…if true, it’s creepy.

“Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”

“Jeremy.” Roxana becomes sterner, her eyes narrowing at the said boy. “That’s enough.” He pouts, offering a small apology. But not before taking one last jab at Dion.

“Don’t be surprised if she jumps of the terrace.”

The room goes quiet. No one dares to speak. Even for Jeremy, that was too far. Although, you could understand where he was coming from… but you were not his mother. And hopefully, unlike her, you won’t completely break.

Not again.

Dion, as always, says nothing. In the series he would have. Sneer at him maybe. Or return the insult, but harsher. Was this Dion more mellow? You’re not sure. Rather, he hasn’t shown his brutal side around you the few times you’re together, even at the engagement party, the wedding, and your first night together. Even earlier today, he warned you about his mother.

Ignoring the sadistic looks from last night, Dion didn’t really… showed you his true personality.

Almost like he was hiding it.

You shake your head. That’s ridiculous. With a small huff, you respond to Jeremy’s jab. You shouldn’t, but he shouldn’t act like this.

“Master Jeremy,” you call him, not sure of what to say next. “…While I appreciate your concern, please do not jump to such conclusions.” You’re scared he’ll lash out at you. Honestly, you don’t know if he does worry about you or if he just wanted to rile his older brother up. Regardless, it’s probably best to draw a line.

Everyone needs one.

“She’s right, Jeremy,” Roxana takes your side, and you can’t help but swoon. Truly, she’s a goddess in some regards and devil in another. Hopefully, you pray, you’ll only see her sweet side, no matter how fake it is. “You should apologize – properly.”

The boy looks dejected that his favorite sister basically told him that Dion won’t be the worst husband. If anything, he most likely wanted Roxana to take you away from the favorite son – so that he won’t have anything. Not that it matters – Dion is only playing house until Lant tells him otherwise.

“I’m,” Jeremy forces the words out, unable to look you in the eye. It’s kind of cute, but you must remind yourself that murder means nothing to this fourteen-year-old boy. If Roxana were to tell him to kill you tomorrow, he would without second thought.

“I’m sorry. Really. I was… out of line. I shouldn’t have said that to you, (n-name).” he stutters out your name like it was his first time hearing it. “But,” oh boy, you don’t like how the way he’s looking at Dion. And you don’t like how your husband glares at the boy, either.

Roxana shares a look with you, as if saying ‘get the bastard out, now.’ But how were you supposed to do that!? You barely talk as is!

What are you supposed to do!? Beg him to leave with the promise of… no, you can’t do that again. You like living with working reproductive parts.

But… how could you refuse Roxana?

Oh. You’re already falling for her traps. You’ll work on that later, when there isn’t a one-sided bashing session between the two half-brothers.

You breathe in before calling out Dion’s name. “Why don’t we… why don’t we walk around…” you squeak, drowning in embarrassment. You probably look like a mouse to them. “Why don’t we walk around the garden? I’ve been- “

“Hold up, do you really want to be alone with him- “

“Jeremy.” Your husband gets up from his seat and suddenly a knife cuts down the atmosphere. He sounds… pissed. He doesn’t raise his voice or anything; but that only makes it… worse. It’s hard to breathe and you can only watch as Dion stares at Jeremy.

You’re starting to fear for the boy’s safety.

Roxana looks like she was about to step in, clearly done with the entire situation until her older brother cuts her off. “At your age, acting out is just pathetic. Stop before you embarrass yourself further.”

Then, he looks at you with those fucking carmine eyes that gives off the impression that he knows more than he should. You feel naked, finally realizing something:

Dion Agriche is hiding something from you.

You’ve only ‘known’ him for a few months and spoken only a handful of times. But somehow, someway, he knows you. You feel like throwing up.

“I’ll see you at our room later.”

The moment he’s out of view, your dinner decides to come up. It was horrifying, throwing up in front of your in-laws. Especially Roxana.

And…

“See? I told you, Xana!”

Jeremy is also acting weird. Fuck, what’s even going on anymore? Can’t the characters stay, well, in character?

But hey, at the very least, you have the privilege of the beautiful Roxana helping you clean up after ordering Hana – she was standing to the side the entire time but couldn’t do anything – to bring some towels. Hopefully, Lant won’t hear of this…

[miley1442111]

Hi my love!

I'm sorry if this is a bother, but I saw you were taking requests and I really wanted to see this one written and you do such amazing writing.

Please don't feel pressured into writing this tho

So, we all know Derek is like, 6'2" is, right, so the girls he talks to are shorter than him, but I was wondering if you could write something with a female reader where she is almost as tall as him, and decided to wear heels to something, like a party or a gala or something, and she feels insecure about being so tall and he's just swooning over her because look at his tall woman, his amazing tall woman who works as an FBI profiler and can literally kick anyone's ass and just look how cool his girlfriend is.

Like, if you wanted to you could write about how some guy made a comment and Derek literally had to be held back because he was full on ready to throw hands for the reader.

Bonus points of she's like really fit, like she definitely hits the gym and you can see it

Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to/don't feel comfortable, I just thought it would be cute

OMG I love this idea, it's so freaking cute! I had so much fun with this and istg I'm so sick of y/n always being some small fragile little thing in fics, it drives me crazy!!!!

Thank you for requesting my dear ! :)

my girl- d.morgan

a/n: intended for tall fem!reader but as per usual imagine what you like :)

summary: derek comforts you after something happens at the yearly award show

pairings: derek morgan x reader, (platonic) bau team x reader

warnings: insecurities, suggestive tones, crying, fluff :)

You loved your body, seriously you did. It was your vessel, your home. You nourished it and took care of yourself. 

But sometimes you wanted to feel shorter. Being tall has its advantages, and yes, you knew you were more than conventionally attractive, but it didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your head, telling you it was weird that when you wore heels, your boyfriend was looking up at you, not down. Derek was 6’2. You were 6’2 ½ with these heels on. You were taller, which was fine, but it played in your mind more than you had wanted it to for the entire night. 

Derek on the other hand? When he saw you in that perfect dress he didn’t think he’d have the willpower to actually stop himself from fucking you before the event. He felt so lucky. His beautiful, ass-kicking girlfriend was wearing a dress that he’d bought her and she looked fucking delicious. He knew you were gorgeous, especially when he was regularly graced with the image of you naked, but this was another level. On your latest mission you’d taken the unSub down on your own and he swore he’d never been more turned on. The way you just overpowered him, getting his knife off him and cuffing him. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes, you always would be.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the gala, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, gripping and pawing at you, kissing you constantly. Though, he could see something was wrong. Was this gala too much for you? Did you want to go home early? He wouldn’t have complained.  

“You alright baby?” He asked as another award was announced. 

“Fine,” you sighed, staring into your plate of food as you just moved the mashed potatoes around. 

“Baby,” He placed his hand on your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing.”

Derek frowned. You weren’t usually one for keeping things from him. “Baby-”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced to the table, and stood up. You avoided Derek’s concerned eyes and he got up to follow you. 

“How’s the weather up there?” A drunk asshole asked you and he saw the way your face subtly contorted into upset, trying to hide tears. 

He saw red.  

His eyes darkened and his fists balled at his sides. “You wanna say that again?”

The drunk asshole sobered slightly after seeing the seriousness on Derek’s face. 

“Derek it’s fine-” you pleaded, wanting to sink into the floor. 

“No it’s fucking not. Say it again.”

David and Aaron got up from the table, stalking over before Derek swung at the guy. 

They were too late. 

“Derek!” You shouted as the other two pulled him off the man. Other tables were starting to stare and you felt perpetually worse. You should’ve just worn flats. 

“You can shut up next time, yeah?” Derek jeered at the bleeding man as Aaron and David held him back.

“Calm down,” Aaron ordered cooly, and Derek instantly pulled himself out of their arms,brushing them off. 

“I’m calm,” he said. He was not calm. No one got to insult his girl. 

“Can we just go home?” You whispered through shaky breaths. Derek’s attention was all on you.

“Of course we can.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive home was silent, his hand on your thigh as you attempted to calm down. 

Derek was wracking his brain for why you’d been off all night but came up empty. 

What was wrong?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You kicked off your shoes, practically running to the bathroom and locking it behind you. Derek sighed to himself as he set down the keys, deciding to grab himself a beer. 

You took off your makeup, your dress, and showered, trying to wash your insecurities away. You knew you were pretty, you knew Derek loved you the way you were. 

Sometimes insecurities just get the better of you.  

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sheepishly walked into your bedroom and saw Derek on the bed, waiting for you. 

“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded slowly. “What’s wrong?”

And with that, the floodgates opened. You pushed your face into his chest, crying against him as he comforted you. “I just… I know I’m ‘pretty’ and all but… sometimes I just-”

“Hey, you are pretty, so goddamn pretty baby,” he smiled at you and it eased some of the hurt in you. “But I get that you don’t always feel like it, which is fine too, y’know why?”

“Why?” You snuffled out, looking up at him through running mascara.

“Because I can alway remind you, my pretty girl,” he smirked, and sealed his statement with a kiss. 

You felt better, knowing you had someone who loved you no matter what. 

It’s not like Derek minded, he was so head over heels for you you could’ve had two heads and he wouldn't have cared. You were his.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist:)

[somebeetledude]

Stupid ass tpp cart blanche headcanons 🫶

(PLEASE ADD SOME IF YOU HAVE ANY 🙏🙏🙏‼️)

Juno is a great cook but refuses to cook, instead eats dry pasta. Rita eats industrial sized barrels of sprinkles.

Buddy thinks that in theory, her current favourite food would be chocolate ice cream.

The first thing nureyev ate aboard the cart blanche was one of rita’s salmon flavoured snacks. they have since secretly become his favourite food, although he very rarely eats them.

when nureyev stole the contents of juno’s safe, all he found was a bunch of gifts from juno’s past clients, some old legal papers and a few creds. He found this infinitely charming.

Vespa once showed rita how to paint perfect black nails. She has since violently denied these allegations.

Nureyev is allergic to cats.

Jet collects little trinkets that Rita gives him, and neither of them ever verbally acknowledge this. 

Jet can play guitar.

Buddy and Jet play chess together. This first started when Buddy was recovering from radiation sickness, and they quickly adopted this as a weekly game, even aboard the carte blanche.

Buddy and vespa make an awful duet, although they have great singing voices seperately. They always sing together on karaoke night. Rita and Jet make a brilliant duet. Juno can sing but rarely does, and nureyev is a great singer, but only when it comes to jazz.

Nureyev painted some of the bad art Juno collects.

Buddy wears a jessica rabbit dress.

vespa looks great in a suit. I cannot stress this enough. Absolutely fucking rocks that look.

buddy also looks great in a suit, but almost never wears them.

Nureyev and Buddy sometimes wear each other’s high heels.

Buddy habitually greets people with a kiss on each cheek. 

Buddy’s weapon of choice is a flamethrower.

Rita once hacked into the database of a banned cars dealership for jet for his birthday.

Juno used to wear a fuckass fedora. Buddy talked him out of it.

Buddy knows a lot about old earth pirates. Like, just. So much about them. Has an entire cabinet dedicated to old earth pirates.

Rita and nureyev are the only two aboard the cart blanche who can speak brahmese, nureyev because he grew up there and Rita because she watches a lot of streams in brahmese. They both often judge people on jobs in brahmese.

Buddy and Juno smoke.

Jet makes lovely little pastries and cakes. Rita appreciates his talents.

Vespa and Juno both take their coffee the same- no milk, one and a half sugars, and then about half a cup of milk and another sugar when no one’s looking.

Rita takes her coffee with one teaspoon of coffee, whipped cream, sprinkles and synthesised cheese melted on top.

Rita’s historical idol is Mabel from gravity falls.

[baby-tini]

soooooooooo, fem! shuji hanma! x fem! reader?? 👉🏻👈🏻 (thank u for answer btw!! i will request later some emma headcanons heheh)

-She's so tall, standing at about 5'11, she's much taller then most of the men she fights and she finds it too be so funny. She's got a really nice figure as well, tiny waist with long legs and the prettiest hands that have knuckles that are always covered in blood and bruises

-She's so fucking mean, too literally everyone, and she's so cocky about everything. Especially about, men specifically, underestimating her because she's a girl. So when a man gets handsy with her, she beats his ass. As the man lays bloody and bruised on the floor, his face twisted in disbelief as she laughs in his face.

-She gets her nails done, but never long because she can't fight as well and she always complains about how she really doesn't understand how people wipe their ass with nails that long. She does like when you drag those claws down her back though, the pain makes her head all foggy.

-She's so mean when she sits on your face, because she doesn't just sit, she fucks. She will fuck your face, with no break, she only lets up when she's cum. She'll grab the back of your head and push you closer as she rides your tongue, saying the meanest things to you as she feels your tongue slip inside of her.

-Her hair is pretty too, she has that kind of e-girl style, her hair brown with blonde strands in the front, she lets them hang out when she ties her hair back, she does add more blond streaks later on because she likes it so much. While she likes too keep her hair short, she grew it out because she liked when you pulled on it. She always has you bleach her roots for her because she doesn't know what's she doing and her hair has fallen out when she fell asleep with the bleach in before.

-She's the meanest on her period, her cramps get so bad too the point where she can't walk so she likes too have you take care of her. Her period is pretty short but it's always so bad. She also thinks it's kinda cute when your period sinks up with hers. She derives a sick kind of pleasure when you suffer with her.

-She doesn't wear skirts, dresses on nice occasions, but she hates skirts. They're so uncomfortable for her, she much rather prefer too wear sweats and leggings. They're easy for her too move around in and she fights better, have you ever tried too smash someones teeth down their throat in a skirt? Well, she has and she couldn't move around at all, she also hates heels, again for special occasions but even then she quickly grows tired of them and always has slides in the car.

-She loves using straps on you, she knows she fucks you good already, but when your face twists into pure ecstasy, it makes her fuck you harder, and it's so much fun for her. With the different lengths girths, she doesn't just fuck you with it though, she makes you suck it off. Watching your lips wrap around the silicone head as she fucks your throat with it, the harness around her waist as you sit between her legs, her hand bobbing your head as she throws her back, it's as if she can really feel it.

-It's so easy for her too go into the dressing room with you, and people are none-the-wiser as she has her finger deep in your soft cunt, your hands against the mirror as your face is squished against the glass, her other hand covering your mouth too prevent you from being too loud.

[muldermuse]

Naughty List (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

Gator comes round to reader’s house on Christmas Eve to get his gift.

This is in the two sinners world.

18+ only!! Smut ahead!!! Fic includes sub!Gator, dom!f!reader, oral (f recieving), mentions of wax play and piv sex, teasing language, use of restraints, dry humping, use of underwear as a gag, mentions of spanking with belt, panty kink????, brief aftercare. Reader fucking loves being mean to Gator hahaha I love her (me).

This is the completed version of this lil ficlet. And apologies, I was going to post it on Xmas day but I was too drunk and merry to edit and write. I’m not 100% with this one but it was fun fun fun. Like all the two sinners stuff is. Thank u all for reading and engaging with the series. ❤️ u all.

Ok seeing Gator on Christmas Day is out of the question. He’s spending the day with Glenda and Roy reciting their favourite psalms and thanking the lord for a bountiful Christmas. Glenda goes all out at Christmas, it’s obviously her favourite holiday and she constantly updates her Facebook with pictures of a content looking Roy and an exhausted looking Gator. No doubt, Glenda will have made him a piece of her artwork and bought him some novelty socks. He’ll smile at her and press a kiss to her cheek but you rejoice in the knowledge that thoughts of your Christmas Eve are running through his head. 

[sent at 13:30] You: got your Christmas present at my house. Door will be unlocked for when you finish at 6. I’ll be upstairs 🎁

[received at 13:42] Gator💩🐍: am i on the nice list?

[sent at 13:43] You: no. See you at 6 💋

***

His Christmas present is you- OBVIOUSLY. But it’s a version of you that Gator only really gets when he begs and even then, you don’t always give it him. He asks for this when you eat his ass or when he’s had a week of getting non stop shit from his daddy or Glenda. 

He wants you to turn him on that much his brain switches off.

He wants you to be in control and dominate him. 

You’re wearing a red lace set with garters and pointy red heels. It’s nearly pitch black by the time Gator arrives. You’ve left one lamp lit downstairs to guide him up but, honestly, he knows the layout of your home like the back of his hand. In the bedroom, your curtains are open with the twinkling of outdoor Christmas lights provide occasional flickers that illuminate your white linen bed sheets. A cinnamon candle is glowing by the door and nearly blows out when Gator enters as dramatic as ever. 

You’re sat at the end of the bed waiting for him and you smirk as you take in his expression- seemingly enthralled by your red look. 

“Crawl to me, baby” your voice is low and by the way Gator drops to his knees without hesitation and a look of relief on his face- you already know how tonight is going to go. 

He’s slow in his movement, keeping eye contact with you as he crawls towards your open legs and stopping a few inches from your panties. His eyes are fixed on the damp spot on your red underwear and his shuddering breaths are filling the room. You run your hands through his slicked back hair as you try not to recoil at the unnatural feeling of brushing your nails through hair gel. 

“Y’wanna taste?” He looks up at you with the most love sick eyes you’ve ever seen, he nods slowly as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip. You grip his hair in your hand as you push him into your panties, “make me cum with my panties still on baby- y’don’t deserve to taste properly just yet”. He groans as he pushes his face further into your pussy. He’s messy with it and you can feel his spit dripping down between your legs. It feels so good and the knowledge that he’s desperate to please you brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Take my panties off and make me cum on your tongue Gator, don’t let me down” you throw your head back on the bed as you feel Gator rip your panties down your legs and throw them across the room. He’s that desperate to make you cum he’s moaning into your pussy as he eats you out and you know he’s palming himself over his cargos. Your back arches as you clamp your thighs around Gator’s head and cry out as you cum. 

He’s pressing hot kisses to your thighs as your pussy clenches around nothing, you can feel your breathing begin to regulate again as you come down from your high. Your hand smoothes over his ruffled hair, “that was so good Gator. You did such a good job…good to know you can do something right”. His smile drops at your final sentence. On trembling legs you head over to your closest to get the box that Gator both wants and dreads. The box is full of sex toys, restraints (some crudely made and some from a hidden sex store in town) and things that you’ve seen at a local store and thought could be fun and sexy. Jax has contributed to the box, he bought some candles and teased you for hours by slowly dropping hot wax over your chest whilst fucking you softly. Gator was devastated when he found out and had begged you to do it to him the next day. You weren’t as gentle and he fucking loved it. 

You can hear him kicking off his boots and unzipping his cargos. 

“Did I tell you to get undressed?”

“No but uh- I thought…”

You softly kiss him, tasting the remnants of your cum on his plush lips. “Don’t think baby, I know how hard that can be for you. Just lie on the bed dressed how you are now- hands above your head”. Your voice is authoritative and Gator never wants to disappoint you when he’s in this headspace. 

As soon as his hands are placed at your headboard, you click pink fluffy handcuffs around them and make sure that they are tight. There’s something about the sight of your local Sheriff tied to your bed with novelty pink handcuffs that you love. You’ve taken a picture before and when you really want to fuck with Gator you’ll send it to him when you know he’s working with his daddy. You look at Gator, a silent check in to make sure he’s okay and he replies with a quick nod. He looks fucked out already, his lower face is red from the lace rubbing against it and his usually perfectly placed hair is disheveled. He looks desperate and that’s exactly how he wants it. You retrieve your panties from the floor and sit over Gators clothed cock. 

“D’you really think you’re on the nice list this year baby? Can you tell me anything nice you’ve done for me?” 

You slowly start to grind against his hard cock. When you look down, you can see a wet spot of his pre cum soaking through his cargos. You can feel him thrust up to try and get some friction to his achingly hard cock. You quickly rise so he gets nothing. 

You grip his cheeks so his lips purse out “this isn’t good boy behaviour, Gator”. You inch closer to his face, “if you move again without my permission, you can fucking crawl home to her and fuck your fist to thoughts of me like some pathetic fucking loser”.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’m f- I’m so sorry” he can’t think straight. His hands are in tight fists at the top of the bed and the sound of his breath filling the room. In and out. In and out. Probably trying to slow his breathing so he doesn’t cum when you start to grind down on him again. 

The red underwear is quickly pushed towards his face. “Can you smell my cum baby? You were so good at doing that. Y’want another taste?” He nods as the balled up fabric is shoved into his mouth. You watch in awe as his eyes roll back whilst the makeshift gag stifles his moan. Rotating your hips slowly, you start to rock against his hard cock. 

“Y’know when Jenson was round here a few nights ago. He left his belt, he was desperate to get his pants off as soon as he came in the door”. The fabric of Gator’s cargo is beginning to feel damp, you know it’s a mix of his pre cum and your arousal covering his work pants. It feels so good for you so you can imagine Gator’s getting close to cumming. His eyes are locked onto your body, watching your hips steadily swirl against him. “I was thinking I could use his belt on you, maybe could’ve bent you over the bed and used it to spank you”. His eyes screw shut and you can’t help the laugh that slips out. His body is stiff with tension underneath yours. 

“Gator,” you chide, voice high and mocking “are you gonna cum thinking about me using some guys belt on you? Thinkin’ about me punishing you?”. He thrusts up and rather than backing off him you press your pussy harder against him. Rocking your hips back and forth on his cock and hearing him whimper through the lace underwear in his mouth. You lower your lips to his ear as you order him in a whisper to “cum in your pants before I send you back to your girlfriend and daddy”. He thrusts one final time against you and moans loudly as his eyes screw shut. His hands are in tight fists as he pulls off from the headboard and breaks the handcuffs into two pieces. With his now free hand, he pulls your underwear out of his mouth with staggered breath. 

He’s cum in his pants; the already dark fabric now a darker colour around his crotch. His hands are covering his eyes with the broken restraints around his wrists like pink fluffy bracelets. You hear him curse under his breath as his breathing starts to normalise. He’s usually a bit vulnerable when you take control so you’re more affectionate than usual. Normally, after he cums you’re both in a hurry to leave, not wanting to stay in each others vicinity to enjoy the post orgasm bliss. It has to be different when it’s like this and you both silently know it. He sits up on the bed and you get in his lap again, slicking his hair back down and helping him get out of the now broken handcuffs. You press a soft kiss to his forehead and he grips your hip as a wordless thank you. 

Before he leaves, you hand him your panties with the smell of his spit and your orgasm still on the fabric. He smirks as he tucks them into his back pocket. 

On Christmas evening, he sends you a picture of his hard clock with your panties wrapped round it. It immediately turns you on as you can picture the scene. Glenda and Roy will be asleep in their rooms as Gator is fisting his cock with your underwear. His lip will be red from biting with him trying to keep his moans from slipping out. He’ll be thinking of you and it makes you feel fucking great. 

[received at 23:49] Gator🐍💩: [image attached]

[received at 23:49] Gator🐍💩: best Christmas present this year

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Sick Surprise pt. 6 — Rossi’s Princess Castle

In which Spencer invites Y/N to his team’s dinner but the sitter for Eloise cancels

Warnings: Fluff, ¿smut scene?, Eloise, Henry and Jack being adorable, dirty jokes, Derek teasing Spencer, the team being like wtf— 😧

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Spencer’s chest heaved as he collapsed on the bed next to his girlfriend. Her eyes were still squeezed shut and her lip between her teeth.

After a moment of breathing and calming down, Y/N hummed and moved to lay close to him. “Wanna go shower?” She asked, kissing his neck. “We can be louder in there.” He chuckled, rubbing her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Of course.” He kissed her lips and pulled away, laughing when she tried to catch his lips again. She giggled as he began talking again. “So… there’s this dinner…” He trailed off.

Y/N hummed, her fingers grazing over his abs gently. “Mhm…”

Spencer cleared his throat. “My friend from work is hosting at his house and Um—“ He paused and kissed her because her lips were searching for his. “They know that I’m dating someone— that someone being you— and Rossi invited you.”

Y/N stopped he movement of her hand and looked up at him. A small smile grew on her lips. “Really?” She asked quietly.

Spencer smiled down at her. “Really. I would really like for them to meet you.”

Y/N nodded. “But what if they don’t like me?”

The man scoffed. “They’re gonna love you.” He whispered. “I love you.”

Her smile grew and she grabbed the side of his face, kissing him. He pushed her hair out of the way and kissed her back. “I love you too. So much.” She mumbled between kisses. “And I would love to come to dinner.”

Spencer chuckled. “If you keep kissing me like that we’re not gonna make it to the shower.”

Y/N smirked, moving her body to straddle waist. “I’m okay with that.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Two days later, Y/N stood in front of her full body mirror in a dress and heels. Eloise was jumping on her bed and singing some song about colors she had heard on the tv earlier in the day.

“Mommy, how long you gonna be gone?” Eloise asked as she stopped jumping.

The mother hummed and spun around. “Just a few hours.”

Eloise shook her head and frowned. “A foo hours is wike… forever, mommy!”

Y/N giggled and sat on the edge of her bed, letting Eloise lean against her. “No it’s not, Eloisey. And you get to be here with Katie. Don’t you like Katie?”

The girl gasped. “Oh my dosh— I wuv Katie.” She breathed out.

Y/N smiled and nodded, kissing her cheek. “I know! You guys are gonna have so much fun!”

Like the universe hated her or something, her phone buzzed beside her and she picked it up.

From: Katie

Hi Y/N! I’m sooooo sorry but i can’t watch Eloise tonight. I think I caught the flu and I’d hate to get her sick

Y/N sighed and shut her eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking me in the ass.” She groaned, forgetting that there was a 3 year old right next to her.

“Mommy, why did you say the fuck word?” Eloise asked causing her to groan louder.

She opened her eyes and put a smile on her face. She knew that Spencer’s phone was on silent and he probably wouldn’t be paying much attention to it while he was with his team.

“No reason baby.” She shook her head. “Go pick out an outfit for you to wear tonight, okay?”

Eloise furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?”

Y/N swiped Jaír out of her baby’s eyes. “Because Katie can’t come tonight so, we’re gonna go eat dinner with Spencer.”

Eloise squealed and crawled off of her mom’s bed and ran out into her room.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

When Y/N arrived at the house— the fucking mansion— she sighed and looked back at Eloise.

“Oh my dosh, Spenther’s fwiend wives in a princess castle!” The girl shouted, clapping her hands.

Y/N laughed. “Yes, he does live in a princess castle.” She took her phone off of the gps thingy in her car and got out.

She walked around the front of the car and got Eloise out of her car seat. “You ready?” She asked, hiking the girl up on her hip, and holding her fist out.

“Ready fweddy.” Eloise nodded and bumped her tiny fist on Y/N’s.

Y/N nodded and began to walk up the stone driveway. She got to the door, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. “Oh god, I can’t do this.” She whispered.

“Yeth you can mommy.” Eloise smiled and touched her mother’s cheek.

She kissed Eloise’s forehead and quickly pressed the doorbell. They heard the sound outside before hearing Spencer’s voice.

“That’s Y/N!” He said, trying to be quiet. “Don’t ask too many questions— Derek why are you sm- stop smirking.”

Y/N took a deep breath in and the door swung open. Spencer’s smile widened when he saw Eloise in her arms.

The woman shook her head. “I’m really sorry, my sitter canceled and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to find one on short notice and I’m really—“

“Y/N, Y/N.” Spencer stopped her. “It’s okay! I was hoping you’d bring Eloise anyway.” He said, looking at the kid. “I missed my girl anyways.” He smiled and Eloise held her arms out.

Y/N let Spencer take her out of her arms. “Are you sure this is okay? Do I look okay? Is my makeup-“

Spencer leaned forward to kiss her shortly. “Everything is fine.” He nodded.

Y/N nodded and smiled up at him nervously, following him as he moved back inside the house.

She walked behind him and heard a quiet gasp as they entered the dining room. “Oh my God, is that a child!?”

Y/N bit her lip and stood next to Spencer, smiling nervously and looking around at everyone. “Uh, guys this is Y/N.” He said nodding down at her. “And this is Eloise,” He noticed how Y/N stiffened under the team’s stares. He cleared his throat.

A blonde dressed in bright purple stood up and made her way towards them. “Oh my goodness!” She pulled Y/N into a hug causing a surprised noise to leave the woman’s mouth. “It’s so nice to meet you!” She pulled away and looked at the girl in Spencer’s arms. “And you too! Oh my gosh you’re adorable.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/N spoke.

“I’m Penelope!”

Eloise became shy and she waved, leaning into Spencer’s neck. Y/N giggled and said hi.

Then, everyone else walked up to them and introduced themselves to her and Eloise.

Derek and Savannah, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, JJ and Will and Aaron Hotchner all greeted her with a smile and a handshake— JJ hugged her.

When the blonde woman met Eloise, she glanced up at Spencer with wide eyes. “I’m JJ.” She told the girl.

“Hi JJ.” Eloise greeted quietly.

Y/N smiled and Eloise looked at her with wide eyes. “What’s wrong baby?” The girl waved her over and she walked over, leaning closer to her. Eloise whispered something in her mom’s ear.

A moment later, she pulled away from her and looked at Rossi. “I’m sorry, can we go use your bathroom?”

The man nodded. “Of course.” He smiled. “It’s right down that hallway to the left.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, taking Eloise from Spencer and nodding at him before walking to the bathroom.

The team waited until her heels stopped clicking and the bathroom door shut.

Derek scoffed. “So how exactly did you win her over?” He asked with a chuckle. Savannah slapped his arm.

Spencer rolled his eyes. “We met at this coffee shop near her apartment—“

JJ smiled. “What, like five years ago? I mean, that kid is huge!” She exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

He shook his head. “No Um… I met her six months ago. Eloise is Um… she’s not mine.” He hated saying because even though technically it was true, anything a father would do for his daughter, he’d do for Eloise.

“She’s adorable, Reid.” Emily spoke. “Oh, the kid is too.” She jokingly shrugged.

Spencer smiled and rolled his eyes. “She’s really nervous so can we please tone down the compliments.”

JJ’s eyes lit up. “Ooh! Maybe Eloise would like to play with Henry and Jack when dinner is cooking.” She pursed her lips. “They’re just in the back yard.”

Spencer shrugged. “We’ll have to ask her.” As if on cue, Y/N’s heels began clicking again and Eloise was saying things.

They came around the corner and /N was holding Eloise’s hand as they walked. She let go of her mother’s hand and ran up to Rossi, pulling on his pant leg. “Scuse me, mithter. Do you wive in a princess castle?”

The team laughed and Rossi bent down a bit. “I do live in a princess castle.” He nodded.

Spencer chuckled and leaned over to Y/N as the two of them went into a deep conversation about Eloise’s favorite princesses.

“Is it okay if she goes outside and plays with JJ and Hotch’s boys?” He asked.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, of course. But you didn’t need to ask my permission.” She told him quietly. “I trust you, okay?”

Spencer nodded and kissed the side of her head before getting Eloise’s attention. “Hey, Eloisey do you wanna go play outside and meet some new friends?”

The girl nodded shyly and Spencer held out his hands. Eloise grabbed onto both and hopped onto his feet. Y/N laughed as he began to waddle towards the sliding doors behind the dining room table.

JJ went out before him so she could rally up the other kids. “Hey guys?” She called. Y/N followed behind Spencer and Eloise.

The boys stopped throwing the ball around and came running towards JJ. “Is dinner done yet, mommy?” Henry asked.

JJ chuckled. “Not yet honey. I wanted you and Jack to meet Spencer’s friends Y/N and Eloise.”

They looked up at the woman and then at the girl who held a small smile. “I’m Eloise.” She nodded. “You wike pwaying superhewoes?” She asked.

Jack nodded rapidly and Henry gasped. “We love playing superheroes.”

Eloise hopped off of Spencer’s feet. “Otay. I’m donna be the good one. You duys be da bad ones.”

She ran further into the yard and Y/N laughed, covering her mouth as they ran after her. “She’s gonna sleep gooood tonight.” She nodded with a smile.

Rossi tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Ooh.” She smiled. “What do you have?” She asked.

Rossi chuckled. “A whole damn cellar, sweetheart.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Emily, Penelope, JJ, Savannah and Y/N all stood around the kitchen island with their glasses of wine. The guys sat around in the backyard watching the kids play. “So…” Emily smirked. “How’s the sex?”

Y/N almost choked on her wine and took the glass away from her mouth, wiping her noir with a napkin. She giggled and kissed her teeth. JJ slapped Emily’s arm. “What? It’s a real question.” She shrugged.

The woman inhaled. “It’s fuckin’ mind blowing. He like a vagina wizard or something.” She laughed. The rest of the girls laughed as well.

They were consumed in conversation when the oven dinged. Y/N raised her hand. “I’ll go get the guys.” She told them.

She set her glass down and walked out of the kitchen and towards the sliding doors. The guy’s chairs were faced away from the door and she slowly open it. Before she called for them, she paused when she caught the end of their conversation.

“I think she was sent by God. She’s perfect.” Spencer’s voice was quiet but she smiled hearing every word. “A-and Eloise is the cherry on top. I didn’t know that I wanted kids until I met her. She’s the best. And she’s just like her mother.”

Y/N teared up and bit her lip as the guys all ‘awed’ and patted him on the back. “And I’m gonna marry her. I don’t know when but it’s going to happen.”

Her grin widened and she cleared her throat. “Um, I think dinner is ready.” She said quietly. They all turned back, not think that she had heard their entire conversation.

Rossi popped out of his chair and clapped. “Great! You’re gonna love my lasagna.” He nodded.

“Lasagna?” She repeated, glancing at her cute but very messy girl.

Rossi chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I made the kids chicken nuggets and fries.”

Y/N sighed in relief and laughed. She saw Eloise running up to her and she bent down. The girl ran and jumped into her arms. “Mommy, can Jack and Henry come over tomorrow!?” She asked.

Y/n spun her around. “We’ll have to ask their parents but it’s okay with me! Come on let’s go eat!”

Spencer smiled as he watched Y/N wiggle her around as they went inside.

He got so lucky.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

After dinner, the kids were watching a Disney movie in Rossi’s home theater and the adults were all standing around the kitchen island talking.

Spencer grabbed Y/N’s hand and she leaned over to him. “I love you.” She spoke quietly. “And thank you for being with me and Eloise.”

He kissed her cheek, knowing that the others were too immersed in conversation with each other. “I will always be with you.”

Y/N giggled. “And the girls might tease you at work for a little while.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows with a smile. “Why?” He asked, rubbing his hand over her lower back.

“I may or may not have called you a vagina wizard.”

———————————————————————-

HAHAHAHAHAHH

I love this so much and I love that Y/N and Eloisey met the teammmmm!

The next chapter has some angst and it’s gonna be about Eloise’s 4th birthday! So excited!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter

Love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @mrsgweasley @tuesdayyellowxx @blue-willows @monzarella @winkev1

@criminallymagic

@mermateyepmatewithte

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[narcoticwriter]

I'm Finally Breaking My Silence.

I can't take it anymore. Someone has to know about this. It's been years since the realization dawned on me and years since I've kept my lips sealed, but I can bear it no longer.

It makes no fucking sense how the tall Genshin women have heels.

This is a meme, but I'm also on something else entirely. Maybe it's delusion.

I don't care if it's for the fanservice, I don't care if it's hot, and I certainly don't care if people like it because it makes no sense whatsoever.

I don't know how people can run around in varying landscapes and roads on heels. I don't know how the heel itself would survive such treatment. And I don't know how the wearer, no matter how skilled, would not trip and fall on their ass.

Some instances can be afforded more forgiveness than others, but this will not stop me from compiling a list of how I feel about them individually and as people:

Actual Insanity -

Beidou: The Alcor is a wooden boat. One day, that heel is slipping through a small hole in the floor, snapping off, and sending her careening across the starboard. Someone's going to laugh. And then they will be tossed into the brine before being pulled back out and promptly begging for forgiveness. I cry.

Jean: The Gunnhildrs are masochists. The pain is worth it for Mondstadt, as always. How does she do it, running around everywhere and carrying the Knights of Favonius on her back? There's no way that she doesn't kick off the boots while sitting at her desk when it becomes too much to bear.

Dehya: When she says that she wants to slay on the battlefield as much as her looks, I did not think that the shoes would also be a thing to consider. And in sand? Are you mad? Those heels are sinking. No wonder her burst cancels when she jumps. Imagine having to rework your precarious footing every single time.

Yelan: This sick woman unironically likes it. She probably enjoys the sensation of pain every single time it becomes borderline pleasurable. It doesn't help that she looks forward to it being treated too. Herbalist Gui is getting really sick of having to wrap her feet in gauze after slathering it with medicinal foot cream.

Rosaria: I don't know if she's capable of caring anymore, actually. She doesn't seem to process this the same. The woman has an aesthetic to commit to and she doesn't do anything halfway, including her fit. She says she doesn't get drunk, but you know damn well that it and the nicotine numb the pain.

Eula: Anyone who says that they can do reconnaissance work and wear those things is lying, and Eula Lawrence is no exception to this rule. To add insult to injury, she also has spurs on them. Spurs on those beasts of shoes. Respectfully, she needs to twist her ankle and be put on bedrest for the day, so she can think about it.

Candace: I can't believe that this mentally brought me to my fucking knees. How dare you? You live in an area that is mostly sand and dust! You go out in the night and kill things! You're constantly out and about taking care of things! WHY ARE YOU IN SUCH HIGH HEELS?!?

Shenhe: (head in hands) I don't even know if she knows that this isn't normal to wear. I'm going to Cloud Retainer's domain and demanding that she be put in something that makes more sense. She lives in the mountains for Archon's sake! She may not act entirely human, but trust me, she is one at the end of the day.

It Makes Some Sense -

Kujou Sara: She's won, actually. Geta are allegedly much more comfortable to wear than heels. She slays, stays stylish, and isn't suffering while doing so. Good for her, because this is one of the only wins she has in a long, long list of L's, mostly attributed to Yae Miko if you take the time to really look at it.

Lisa: Is she really going to be running around all that much? No! Because she has her little helpers to go around and do things for her. And even if she has to go around by herself, she does so at a rate that isn't breakneck speed. Also, I personally believe that she has some potions and enhancements to help out with it.

Ningguang: She barely gets a pass. Barely. I personally don't believe she takes that walk around the pier every day. It's every other day at the most consistent. At every other function, you can trust that she has a seat and that she's not on her feet. She can afford to have such accommodation.

Raiden Shogun: If her body wasn't a puppet that she made for herself, I would absolutely put her in the other category. She absolutely made sure that she wouldn't feel pain while wearing those things and it shows with how she's able to move like she does in combat.

Yae Miko: I won't call it foul and say that since she can shift into a kitsune form, she's not going into this category, but provide the proof in other ways. Do you really see her going anywhere in a hurry? Precisely the point. She could probably get away with people carrying her places.

[AAAAAA] -

Arlecchino: I have no words for the atrocity that is those heels. None at all. If I think about them too much, I'll start frothing at the mouth, and not in any good way.

Conclusion - My heart weeps prematurely for Clorinde and Navia. Fontainian fashion can kiss my ass. I mourn their feet.

[ashecampos]

ANYONE BUT HER

Reader x Janis Imi-ike

Warnings - smoking, alcohol, drugs, swearing, cheating, mentions of anxiety.

there will be more parts to this, make sure to reblog and comment and I will get the next few parts up as soon as I can, happy reading lovelies 🫶🏼

“DAMIEN WE HAVE TO HAUL ASS IF WE WANT TO MAKE IT TO THIS GIG” Janis shouts at her best friend as she grabs his car keys and runs to the door leaving her jacket on the stairs. Not a moment goes until her best friend is also running out of the door behind her, shutting it and jumping in his car.

—

“For the love of Bowie please tell me one of you guys have a spare pick” I say running onto the stage where my band are setting up for the gig. My brother Aaron looks at me, points at my necklace. A guitar pick hanging from a chain. I dramatically place my hand over the pick and point at him “nuh uh this” I point at the pick “this was dads”. He rolls his eyes and throws me a pick.

I look over at my girlfriend who is talking to our bassist over at the bar, rolling my eyes I place my guitar down and go out back for a quick breather.

—

“So Cady what do you know about music?” Damien questions his new neighbour/ future classmate who had only came to the US a month ago. “nothing..but oh I know this really cool African band from my hometown you mig-“ Cady starts talking about Africa as Janis eagerly slaps Damien’s arm, cutting the poor girl off. “Dude look” Janis signals over to y/n after grabbing her two friends’ attention. “who is that?” Cady asks not missing the fact that her new friend is openly eye fucking this random girl whose face is hidden by the cloud of smoke coming from her cigarette. “Oh baby, that right there is the definition of ‘rockstar girlfriend’ also but not limited to hot guitar hero” Damien flails his hands toward the girl in question as Janis just stares. “Oh here we go, doors are open, I repeat lady’s doors are open” he squeals like a little girl going to see a boyband.

Blowing out a cloud of smoke I fiddle with my lighter in my hands, trying to calm my pre show jitters. My mind is somewhere else, as usual. Looking around at the que of people waiting to see us only made my anxiety worse. A warm hand grabs my arm and pulls me back into the venue “dude what the fu-“ shit “cmon we have to be on in five, if your going to be sick do it now and quick” my ever so loving girlfriend states as she drags me to the curtain backstage where the rest of the band is waiting.

One by one we walk out onto the stage.

Aaron goes on first, he’s our drummer and my twin brother. He’s wearing his usual get up of dark blue jeans, a hoodie and a flannel with some airforces.

Then goes Jason, our bassist. Or should I say our token fuck boy. He is wearing black jeans with a white long sleeved polo shirt.

Next is me, the guitar. I’m sporting my favourite black Levi’s, a dark red corset top I was forced against my will to wear by my girlfriend and a leather jacket, my guitar slung around my body so it’s resting on my back. My curly black hair bounces as I walk to my spot of the stage and plugging my guitar into the amp as I sling it around to the front of my body.

Lastly Bea. My girlfriend, our singer saunters out onto stage. She is wearing a black mini dress and heels. She looks plastic. Like a Barbie. She wasn’t like this a few weeks ago. She was just her usual perfect self. But she’s changed.

The crowd goes wild and the lights shine brighter onto us as Bea introduces the band.

The show goes great. Perfect even. We finish our set and the crowd stays, some drifting to the bar a few leaving to catch the late bus home. But a lot stayed to meet the band.

I place my guitar on the stand and straighten Jason’s bass while the rest of the band walk toward the bar, I take a B line towards the exit door, only to be pulled away by my arm. Now I walk to the bar with the rest of them. “What can I getcha baby?” The bartender asks, leaning over the bar a little with a smirk. “Double tequila straight, hold off the rocks and a sex on the beach for the lady please” I say with a smile. “Stop flirting with the sleaze bag of a server” Bea nudges me. “I wasn’t even…never mind” I sigh out, handing Bea her drink and downing my double shot.

We all separate and mingle with the fans. I end up standing in the corner of the room talking to some guys who want tips on how to hold a pick, you know the usual stuff. That’s when I see my girlfriend making out with Jason. I excuse myself and run out of the venue, my breath choppy and my vision blurry. I end up leaning against the stone wall of the bar, tears unknowingly flowing down my face, ruining my makeup.

—

“See I told you these guys were good” Janis shouts over the crowd to state the obvious as the show ends and people start to part ways.

..

The band comes out to cool off with the audience who is left, Janis, Damien and Cady being a group of them. “Holy shit” Janis says under her breath as she watches the singer and the bassist start making out. “Ohh fuck” Damien finishes Janis’ sentiment of shock as they witness the guitar player stumble out of the bar. “should we go see is they are okay?” Cady asks, Janis and Damien put their drinks down as if the question had restarted their brains and placed them back into reality. The group then follow the girl outside where they find her sat in the floor against the brick wall, her knees up to her chest, hands covering her face.

“Cady go find Aaron, drummer boy and let him know his sister is a mess but to not to worry, Damien go make sure singer or bassist does not come out here” Janis quickly springs into action.

—

She cheated, she fucking cheated with our bassist. Does she even know that I saw? Would she even care? I can’t believe that she che- “hey, is it okay if I touch you?” I girls voice breaks me out of my thoughts suddenly. I slowly take my hands away from my face and nod, observing the girl. She’s from my school, I’ve seen her before.

She slowly sits down next to me and takes a hold of my hand. That’s when it hits me. It’s my brother’s girlfriend’s ex. What was her name? Janine? No Janis? Yes Janis. Why was she at our gig? “Your girlfriends a douchebag” she says with a sad smile “you mean my ex girlfriend” i say barley above a whisper, my voice threatening to crack. “hey why don’t you come with me and my friends, we are going back to Damien’s to binge watch crappy VHS films and drink shitty beer. You down pretty girl?” She says reeking of confidence and hope that she can lift my spirits. Shrugging I agree before I am swept off of my feet and into a car with two new people and Janis.

—

Y/N SAMUELS is sat next to me right now. Definitely not something I expected to be saying. She’s like a goddess. She’s worse than plastic, she’s like stained glass. Fragile as fuck but so breathtakingly beautiful. I don’t know much about her but I know I need to have her.

—

I’m sleepy upset and now in a car with two randoms and Janis Imi’ike, not that I’m complaining. She’s really pretty the more I look at her. She rocks a cropped mötley crüe T-shirt with some black baggy jeans and docs. Her style has got to be one of the best I’ve seen even at school she somehow manages to catch my eye in the hallways or in classes. The car comes to a halt and I look at her again, now she is looking back at me with a grin, her hand held out ready for me to take it.

Damien’s basement is really nice, it’s been converted into a makeshift cinema room with two sofas, one of which being a two seater the other being a one seater. “Nice place” I say nodding my head at Damien “why thankyou my new pocket sized lesbian friend” he quips back. “Rude, for your information you’re just freakishly tall” we all laugh a little, his and Cady sit on the two seater while Janis who is still holding my hand guides us to the one seater. Putting a blanket over us to keep us warm she then places her hand on my waist while Damien starts playing a movie. I instantly recognise it as the conjuring 2013. Smiling I look up at Janis and say “it’s like he knew I would end up here tonight” she chuckles and shakes her head.

Never in my life did I think Y/N would be here hanging out with the three of us in Damien’s basement, a week before junior year, watching the conjuring. We are about half way through the movie when she moves so she is laid on top of me straddling my waist and cuddling me, her face nuzzled into my neck. I can smell the alcohol and weed on her but I’m not one to complain. She’s had a really rough night on top of the douchebag cheating on her. The movie eventually ends not that I was taking notice of it as all I could think about was her, I didn’t take my eyes off of her the whole time. Damien stands up from the other couch and I give him a death glare warning him not to wake her up. He smiles and comes over, gently tapping her shoulder, waking her up. “Hey fun sized, wanna play a game with us” he says smirking, I look over at Cady, she too has a shit eating grin on her face. What were they scheming this time? She rubs her eyes and nods a little. “Mh. What game?” She asks a valid question “dare or drink” he goes back to behind the couch and pulls out a cooler full of ice cold drinks. Like a switch has flipped she removes herself from my body. And sits on the floor next to the small coffee table. We all do the same, grabbing drinks and opening bottles. “Cady I dare you to make an Instagram account under the name ‘Caddy Heroin’ and follow the first five people who pop up” I start off strong, to this Cady puts the drink to her mouth and takes a big gulp. Earning a boo from the latter. A few turns go by and Damien turns to me and y/n pointing at us. “You two seven minutes in heaven right now or drink the rest of your bottles” he says with a smirk. Laughing y/n gets up with a stumble and holds her hand out for me. Her bracelets glistening under the dark light, I take her hand and pull her with me to another room in the basement. As soon as the door shuts I place my hands on her waist and push her body trapping her between me and the door.

Maybe I was drunk or maybe it was just the fact that Bea cheated on me but I decided to be reckless. When Damien proposed seven minutes in heaven I decided to take the offer up, Janis pulled me into the next room, pinning me against the door and attacking my lips, then that turned to my neck and I think you know what happened after that, we had Damien knocking on the door declaring we haul our asses out of the supply closet before he comes in and drags us out. Once out of the closet ;) we played a few more rounds before I ended up asleep on Janis again. By 2am we were all asleep.

7am the next day

I wake up to the sound of someone snoring, looking around the room I see Damien and the new girl on the other couch sprawled out, an ungodly sound coming from the boys mouth. Looking up I see Janis Imi-ike my longtime crush and Regina George’s ex girlfriend with her arms wrapped around my waist. I use the fact that everyone is asleep to make my escape. Before leaving I write my number down on a piece of paper and place one of my bracelets on Janis’ wrists.

part 2

[lushta1es0nm3]

You Make Me Sick

Pairing: Im Changkyun x reader

Summary: “I’m not joking,” he told you, “in all seriousness, I want to give it to you.”

Warning: Mature! 18+ you have been warned

Genre: Fluffy smut 💋

A/N: Read at your own risk and if you choose to read please feel free to give feedback and request are always open. Thank you. Please enjoy. 😊

Walking passed the couch, a familiar hand connected with you ass causing a loud smack to echo across the room. You huffed turned around with unimpressed look.

“I’m not in the mood to fucking play.” You stated with a small roll of your eyes.

“I’m in the mood to fuck though.” Changkyun smirked at you and bit his lip.

“Boy,” you started, “stop playing.”

“TMI,” Kihyun frowned, cutting you off as he walked passed you, towards the kitchen with a cup in his hand, “nobody needs to know that, and damn where are the rest of your pants?”

“Hey, I’m not the one wearing booty shorts,” Changkyun started in his defense.

“Okay,” Minhyuk cut in appearing out of nowhere and sitting on the other end of the couch, “we get it, she has a nice ass, the shorts are doing there job,” he sighed scrolling through his phone, “but the furthest you’ll ever get is just touching it.”

“I should throw something at the both of you.” You scoffed, “you both know it’s not like that-,”

“Well than what’s it like,” Kihyun asked standing in the doorway, “you guys wrestle all the time, it’s like you’re in a none relationship relationship.”

“We wouldn’t fight if he’d keep his hands to himself,” You stated.

The two men both let out a loud sigh, “Denial is a river in Egypt.” Minhyuk stated.

Just as you were about to say something back, Changkyun grabbed a handful of your ass. You swing at him, he dodged and took off running.

“Comeback here!” You hollered out chasing behind him. Ignoring the remarks the other two men were making.

They had a point though, every since you guys moved in together, you and Changkyun always fought. It started with little comments, then to full on randomly feeling you up. It always ended with you both wrestling, with Changkyun doing his best to dodge your hits and you having a your legs somehow wrapped around him so he wouldn’t get away.

An every other day occurrence, because he liked teasing you because you were somewhat insecure about your appearance sometimes. He started to like you, so this was his main method to get your attention. Sure he had chicks falling head over heels for him, but not you, you lived with him and saw him everyday. So his looks meant nothing to you.

After finally catching him, you held him down and pulled his ears, a string of swears lift your lips in the process. He retaliated by breaking free and gently squeezing on your belly fat. So you tried to bite him, failing miserably. He laughed at you making you more annoyed, now aiming to give him a purple nurple. He yelped and grabbed your hands, you went to swear. Just as he bit a mouthful of one of your boobs.

Hot and now angry, you let out an unexpected sound and snatched away from him. He smirked at you, licking his lips. Both of you were out of breathe now “I’m going to kill you!” You yelled on outrage diving back on to him now going full force.

Why, because he’d bit down on your tender zone, something he’s never did before, what made it worse was the fact that the bra you were wearing was thin. So bitch, you felt every last bit.

A set of strong arms pulled you off of him, “Alright, that’s enough.” Hyunwoo stated holding you back with one arm. Watching as Changkyun got off the floor and began dusting himself off with a giant smile.

“Y/N,” Hyunwoo called your name stopping you from swearing, “it’s over, stop it.” you huffed in anger and looked away folding your arms, “please,” he continued, “stop fighting.”

“He started it.” You grumbled like a grown ass child.

“Those shorts are illegal!” Jooheon remarked from a distance.

“Hey,” you replied in defense, “I thought everyone was gone, I just wanted some water.”

“Here, put these on before they faint” Hyungwon handed you pair of sweats, “guys, chill.”

You did as instructed, putting them on over your shorts, still glaring a whole at Changkyun, who was eyeing you like candy. You really wanted to body slam him regardless of height and weight difference. Peeved off and slightly turned on, how dare he?

“Y/N,” Hyunwoo sighed looking at you sternly, “it was agreed that you wouldn’t wear such a thing around the house. In the privacy of your room of course it’s fine but not outside.”

“I know,” you frowned, “I seriously thought everyone was gone,” you pouted a little because you felt it was unfair, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry guys.” You apologized to the others.

“Changkyun,” Hyunwoo looked at him with the same expression, “stop pecking on her, if she smacked your ass for no reason you wouldn’t like it,” he sighed, “apologize and please leave her alone.”

He did as instructed after hearing the seriousness in Hyunwoo’s voice. Hyunwoo had everybody apologizing for being rude to each other. After which you dismissed yourself to your room to figure out how to knock Changkyun out for playing too damn much.

The a few days later, you made it home just before dark, you changed quickly and went into the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. It was quiet so you assumed everyone was out handling their schedules. You’d been out for the past few days, because of the location you decided to stay out until you were done.

You sighed and closed the refrigerator door and turned to head to your bedroom. Your heart left your chest at the sight of Changkyun standing in the doorway, looking half asleep with his hair in disarray.

“Dude what the fuck!” You managed to let out holding your chest.

He just yawned at you and rubbed his eyes, “what time is it?” He asked you sounding stopped up.

“I don’t know, it just got dark.” You answered, deciding to go to your room to for your charger before you started cooking. You walked passed him, texting Kihyun as you did so, just to see if you need to cook enough for everyone. You were not paying attention to the fact that Changkyun was following you.

You reached for your door handle but he stopped you by grabbing your hand and quickly dragging you to his room. You managed to pull your hand out of his grip just as he entered his room.

“Man, I’m not in the mood for you games.” You started as he went around you and closed the door.

“Me either.” He agreed as he again grabbed you and pulled you into bed with him.

“Let me go.” You demanded, putting up a fight.

He coughed before be shushed you, wrapping up with you “let’s just sleep.”

“Dude are you sick?” You asked now taking a closer look at him.

He shushed you again while holding you tight and let out another cough. You frowned and used your free hand to check his temperature.

“Bruh,” you sighed, “your burning up, I don’t want to get sick-,”

“Y/N,” Changkyun mumbled his grip loosening a little, “please, I won’t do anything, just cuddle with me,” he coughed again but kept talking, despite his sore throat, “your soft and comfy. Just this once, don’t fight me.”

You sighed, dropping your arm and thinking for a second, “if you so much as.” You’d topped talking the moment he grabbed a helping handful of your ass, “I’m out, let me go before I break-,”

“This is as far as I’m going,” he acknowledged, cutting you off, “any further and you can kick my ass.”

He coughed again and by the sound of it, you could tell that his throat was burning. He sniffled, his eyes were closed but he still held you close. With one of your legs around his waist, you lay on your side facing him, while he held a handful of one of your soft ass cheeks.

“Fine,” you sighed out feeling bad for the sick man, “but if you do anything else I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Thank you,” He whispered his voice now vibrating through you as his hold tightened up around you a little.

You couldn’t be too mad, because no lie, you were comfortable. So comfortable you didn’t complain about how every now and again he’d squeeze your ass and caress it. Bitch, you were so comfortable you dozed off and when he moved to take off his shirt and sweatpants before assuming the position again, you said not a word of protest, that is until you felt his hand go further.

With it you felt him twitching between your legs, you groaned softly the moment you felt Changkyuns hand make contact with your clothed folds.

“Bruh, stop it.” You sighed barley opening your eyes, “let’s just sleep.”

He hummed out a response as he rubbed you twice and opened his eyes to look down at you. He himself was asleep and unaware of what he was doing, “Shit,” he mumbled in response with a small cough, “I’m sorry, I thought I was dreaming.”

He went to close his eyes, but as if on autopilot he’d began rubbing gentle circles on your folds. Don’t lie, you were wet, he was doing it right, just like you liked it, making you grow needy instantly.

“Changkyun,” you sighed out, “chill before I bit your titty.” you warned.

He finally looked down at you, his voice vibrating through again, “You say that but I can feel how wet you are through your clothes.” He smirked at you as he kept going.

“So what,” you huffed, not in the mood to play, “we’re not dating, I’m not letting you fu-,” your words caught in your throat as you sucked in a breath and bit your lips. He’d begun to steadily apply pressure, making you want to moan.

He kept going as you locked eyes with him, you went to pull away but your hand landed on his arms. Your chest began to rise and fall rapidly and your grip on his bicep tightened. He stopped and moved his hand away, still looking at you.

“You make me sick,” you breathe out letting go of his arm.

“But, you some me to finish.” Changkyun stated the obvious, watching your facial expression, enjoying the now needy look in your eyes.

“You ass,” you huffed because you wanted to feel the relief after chasing a high, “I should’ve known better.”

“I’m not joking,” he told you, “in all seriousness, I want to give it to you.”

Girl, you thought it over a for a second, but the sudden feeling of how hard he was, was now pressing between your legs made you throw caution to the wind. You nodded your head and he kissed you, gently and firmly, gently grabbing the waistband of your pants, leaving you in your underwear as he began pulling them down, allowing you a moment to kick the off.

Changkyun pulled away and kissed at your neck, his hand going back to your wet folds. He pushed your underwear to the side and began to he rub firm circles on your clit. Never changing from the position you were in, laying on your side facing each other.

Changkun made his way down, to the point where your breast were in his face, he left your wetness for a brief moment to left your shirt and take a breast out to suck on generously. Returning to the neediest part of you he fingered you steadily with added pressure.

Your head were in his hair, you bit your lip to keep from making a sound. Your body was tingling and trembling, you wanted to feel more as the heat of your walls screamed for mare pleasure. Unbeknownst to you, as you thought Changkyun began to do it. Making his way back up. He kissed your lips, eating at them as he began rubbing his length against your clit teasingly.

You whimpered, now realize how big he was, thinking that you may not be able to take it. You felt Changkyun pressing at your entrance, just the tip was in, you were right around him. You sucked in a breath and let out a low whispered moan as he began thrusting into you gently, feeding more of cock with each thrust.

Until he was deep inside filling you to the brim with his length, your walls were so tight around him, he allowed you both a moment to get used to the tight fit. Going back to eating at your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipples as he sucked each of them.

You let out a low whine as Changkyun started back thrusting deep into you, with one hand on your hip, holding you close as he kissed you. Knowing that you wanted to be vocal about how good it felt. Squeezing your ass, he picked up the pace, pulling closer wanting to go deeper into the heat that squeezed his length tight.

Your were gripping onto his arms as he fucked you slowly in the dark room. Until you felt your stomach clench and your body shiver. You creamed as he held you in place, waiting until you were done to continue, a little harder and faster. You felt him twitch inside you, right before he let out a low groan from the back of his throat. Changkyun came and kissed your lips, despite how dizzy he felt.

Pulling out, slowly he let out a sigh followed by a cough bringing you back to realization that he was sick, “I knew you were right, but not that tight.” He commented lowly holding as close as possible.

“And now I want to smack you, I can’t breath.” You huffed.

No remark came from him, so you looked at him, his hold on you had loosened up a little. He’d fallen asleep, you sighed to yourself and touched his forehead. He was still burning up, you huffed, too tired to complain about the fact that he fell asleep right after or the fact that he was sick. You just sighed and laid back down, it didn’t take long for sleep to come. So again, you both were comfortably sleeping, facing each other. With one of your legs wrapped around his waist and a very generous hand on your ass.

Morning came, or better yet midday, you a woke thinking you heard a camera shudder. To your surprise, Changkyun was laying on your stomach out cold with a hand full off one your boobs. You sighed and shook his arm a little walking him up, he groaned but opened his eyes anyway. Looking up at you like you’d committed a serious crime, with a tissue shoved up one of his nostrils.

“Get up,” you yawned sitting up, “your head is big and heavy.”

He frowned and checked the time, “Your stomach is pudgy but I like it cause it’s soft.” He remarked sitting up.

You grabbed a pillow and hit him with it, causing him to fall over dramatically, “Wounding a sick man won’t change a thing.”

“You are so annoying.” You went to stand up but he’d wrapped a arm around you and pulled you into his lap.

“It’s too early for this,” he sighed burrowing his face in your back.

“It’s literally the middle of the day.” You sighed unknowingly leaning into him.

“It’s early for us,” he kissed your neck, “no one else can touch you.” He added.

“Excuse you, but this isn’t a relationship.” You sighed softly.

“Maybe not, but that belongs to me.” Changkyun warned calmly with a sniffle.

“And if I rejected that idea and start dating someone?” You challenged, allowing him to continue to kiss and nuzzle your neck. Low key lulling you into comfort.

“I’ll loose my shit so bad, Kihyun will nag you to death.”

“I admit defeat!” You folded not wanting to hear to sort of nagging, “are you going to date someone?” You asked curiously.

“Why would I do that when I have you?” He asked he stopped and you slowly stood up, turning to look at him, “you just let me know when you’re ready.” He added with a small cough.

You pursed your lips and reached out a hand to check his temp, still hot but not as bad. You dropped your hand “I’m going to get your some medicine.” You stated as you left his bedroom and closed the door.

In the living, you spoke to Minhyuk and Hyungwon who sat on the couch, both switching between their phones and the tv. Jooheon walked passed you with a bowl of food, he looked at you and smirked making you pause in confusion.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Kihyun stated coming out of the bathroom, “did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” you answered with a sigh, “why’d you guys leave the sick man here alone, did anybody give him any medicine?”

“Yes, we did,” Minhyuk answered as you let out a yawn and began to stretch, “but apparently you have a special remedy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked puzzled, just as Changkyun appeared, “what are you doing?” you turned attention to the disarray Changkyun.

He smirked and as he walked passed you, he smacked your ass, the sound echoed as he walked into the kitchen.

“We saw you this morning,” Hyungwon told you, “Changkyun ran us off, so are you guys an official couple now?”

You looked at Changkyun and he looked at you, “they were going to find out eventually baby.”

You blinked and took a deep breath, “I should punch you in the throat.” You threatened.

“You guy’s just started dating and you’re fighting already?” Shownu asked coming from his bedroom.

“When did they ever stop fighting, it’s just out in the open now.” Kihyun sighed.

You pointed a finger at Changkyun, “I told guys she’d be mine.” He said with confidence.

You launched a couch cushion towards him, he dodged it and took off running with you behind him. He started coughing and worried little old you began patting his back and asking if he was okay. He snickered at you and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your forehead, he earned an “awe” from the others.

“You play too much.” You huffed trying to deny the fact that you were melting and hugging him back. You hit him hard and he let out a yelp and let you go.

“Ouch,” he complained, “why are you continuously wounding a sick man?”

“Sorry,” you gave a false apology, “go back to bed,” you demanded, “I’ll bring you medicine.”

He pursed his lips staring at you for a second, and as he walked past you, he smacked your ass again, earning a loud complaint from you. The others clowned both of you really quickly.

[usernameforaboredcat]

Head Over Heels (Law X TomBoyF!Reader)

(A little dabble I thought while taking a piss 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 like 3 minutes ago)

Warnings⚠: None

[Part 1/?]

Law meets Luffys older (by like a year) sister who honestly the type of girl he’d imagine being the big sister to the Straw Hat and BOY is she just fiiiiiiiine!

3 brothers!

Imagine growing up with 3 idiot brothers with only one of them being less stupid. Fist fights, rolling around in mud and dirt, covered in blood from hunting, needing a bath every night to not get sick. Haha God I love those idiots!

~

Law doesn’t know why he’s here, walking down a random street on a random island with the idiot Straw Hat Luffy. As the two walk, Luffy lets out a loud yell as he sees a familiar older girl walking down the street. “HEEEEEEY! (YYYYY/NNN)!”. He calls way too loudly, drawing the attention of everyone including the girl. She turns in confusion, the gasps as she looks over with wide eyes and a bright smile.

Luffy jolts off over to the girl, the Captain of the Heart Pirates groaning as he slowly walks to catch up. He sees her wearing baggy long pants and a bikini, saddles and a small pack bag through the belt parts of her pants. Luffy jumps and hugs her, who hugs him back. “No way! It’s so good to see you again little dude!”. She greets him. “I’ve missed you so much!”. Luffy cries. (Y/n) pulls off the younger kid, putting him in a headlock as she ruffles his hair with his knuckles.

“You little fuck! I thought your ass was dead you little shit! Scared me half to death! I swore I saw the light!”. She snaps at him angrily, tightening her hold as he starts to choke. “I-I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!”. Luffy breathes out, spazzing in her hold.

The Heart Pirate Captain finally catches up, looking at the two with a raised eyebrow. “The hell are you?”. (Y/n) asks the taller man, looking up at him. A thump goes through his whole body, strange. “Th-this is my friend!”. Luffy chokes out, now trying to pull her arm away. “No shit! Can’t believing you made a friend that isn’t some 30 year old guy!”. She says happily.

Law looks at his now turning blue friend, his cheeks reddening at the sign of his face so squished against her boob. “Hope this little turd hasn’t been too much of a pain in the ass”. She tells him, finally letting go of Luffy to let him fall to the ground. ‘Yes, he has been a giant pain in my fucking ass’. “No, not at all”. He responds. ‘Damn it!’.

She then hums, getting on her tippy toes and leans right up into his face. “Holy crap! You’re that Law guy! I heard about you! Your bounty is like crazy high at like 3,000,000,000 berries!”. She points out in shock. “Yeah! Isn’t he awesome!”. Luffy cheers, now back on his feet. “It is quite impressive, I must say”. She hums, holding her chin with her hand as she nods.

“Uh…th-thanks”. He mutters, gripping the brim of his hat to lower it to hide his slowly growing blush. ‘What’s with this woman? Why am I like this? Damn it!’. “So, whatchu up to these days?”. Luffy asks his older sister, the two turning to each other. “Oh ya know, just traveling around looking for anything to do! Probably doing the least to piss off the old man out of us kids”. She answers, leaning with her hand on her hip.

“How bout you? I’ve seen that your bounty has only been goin up so ya still trying to be King of the Pirates?”. She asks. “Yep! And it’s only gonna go up and I’m gonna be king!”. He responds happily. She chuckles at her little brother. “I believe it! Remember I’ve been your number one supporter since day one”. She reminds him, nudging his arms with her elbow.

She then turns back to the other captain, feeling an arrow go through his heart when her eyes meet his. “Mind if I hang with you guys for a while? Just for a bit, I wanna catch up with my baby brother”. She asks him oh so kindly. Law felt as if his heart stopped, chocking and spitting out his own spit. Luffy laughs at his reaction while his sister just stares.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a handkerchief, holding it out to him. “Do you…need this?”. She asks nervously, never really seeing a guy act like this before in her life. “Uh…”. He takes the handkerchief from her, feeling the soft fabric on his fingers. “Thanks”. He thanks, raising it to clean his face. “Oh man! You should have seen your face!”. Luffy laughs at his older friend.

He holds the handkerchief back to her, her hand grazing his as she takes it back. Her finger tips are as soft as silk, her fingers smoothly sliding off his. Laws nose suddenly bursts, blood gushing out his nose like a hose. “Holy crap!”. The girl yelps, jumping back while Luffy bursts out laughing again. “Hahaha! Now you’re like Sanji!”. He laughs, holding his stomach from all his laughing.

(Y/n) looks at her brother with a concerned expression. “Is he uh…usually like this?”. She asks him. “Hehehe, nope!”. He simply answers. All Law can do it turn away from the two, his face a dark beet red. Never in his life has he been this embarrassed just because of some girl. (Y/n) leans over so she can whisper in Luffys ear. “Should I leave and we catch up a different time?”. She whisper asks him, causing the younger boy to turn and look at her.

“No no it’s fiiiine! Just give him a minute”. He reassures her. She hums as she leans away from her baby brother, then just to lean back over. “He said he acts like a friend of yours, what’s he like?”. She asks him. “Oh you mean Sanji? He usually acts like that around girls, he really likes girls”. Luffy answer. Oh…OH!!! Oh~. “Oh I see~”. She coos, leaning away from her little brother again.

“Huh? Get what?”. Luffy questions. (Y/n) then grabs Laws hand, gaining his attention and causing him to freeze in place. “So Law, are you here for long? Perhaps we can meet up and you can tell me some stories of dumb shit my baby brother has done?”. She asks him, sending him a little wink. His nose starts to bleed again, but he’s able to muster out a nod. “Cool! Now why don’t we go somewhere nice and chat!?”. She says happily, linking arms with her brother and dragging the two down the street.

Trafalgar Law, Died Age 26

Death By Blood Loss & Heart Attack Caused By Luffys Hot Older Sister

[phillippadgettwrites]

The First Time, Every Time: Gender Bender

Rated X / 1661 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It’s constant. The hum, the pull, the bone deep thrum of it. It keeps her up at night. It distracts her every waking moment. It’s consuming her, and she needs it to stop.

She feels sick when she thinks of that ugly man and his gentle strokes across the webbing of her thumb. Sick because she can’t stop replicating it, holding her own hand and stroking, stroking, stroking. It’s like he drew back the string on the bow of her desire and left her hanging there, tight and ready to fire. She finds herself fascinated by the idea of sex so transcendent that your heart simply bursts, overcome with pleasure. Not that she wishes he’d been successful, but…she wonders.

Her clit has developed its own pulse, steadily beating against the seam of her slacks while Mulder flips through his slide projector. Even that mechanical click sends a shockwave through her, makes her cunt grab at nothing and then pitch a fit about it. Her pussy has taken on the attitude of Veruca Salt, demanding that her needs be met on a whim, no matter how fantastical. Don’t care how, she wants it now.

She’s already run out the battery on her vibrator, then fucked herself with her fingers until she simply couldn’t stand any more friction. She ended up driving around at 11pm until she found an open grocery store to buy a bottle of KY, throwing in some condoms so it would look like she was getting laid instead of masturbating until she thought her clit might fall off, which would be a relief at this point.

Mulder is certainly not helping.

Has he always smelled this good? Has his ass always been so fucking plump? Has the bulge in his pants always been so…bulgy? He answers the door shirtless when she stops by his apartment and she has to make an excuse to leave before she throws him down on his couch and does things to him that would definitely violate several bureau policies, as well as her own moral code.

A few days ago her own moral code told her that casual sex was far too risky, something only stupid, careless people did. But what was previously beyond the scope of consideration is starting to sound more and more appealing the longer she lives with her bratty little cunt and its unrelenting petition for more, more, more. She can’t be sure that getting her hands on a flesh and blood cock will put an end to her misery, but even if it doesn’t she’s confident that she’ll enjoy it.

She’s never done this before, and she wishes she’d paid more attention to the sordid stories her friends told her in undergrad. She puts on a tight little red dress that is probably out of fashion and pairs it with panty hose out of habit, which she then takes off as it will only be an additional barrier. A little extra eyeliner and blush, red lipstick, her tallest heels. God, she looks ridiculous, like a little girl playing dress up. She’s beginning to reconsider when little Miss Veruca starts beating her drum again, wetting the panties that she only just put on. Now, now, now.

She picks a bar far away from her apartment to lower the odds of running into anyone she knows or might see again. It’s busy and noisy, not the kind of place that has many regulars, and she hopes that if she just sits at the rail and looks approachable, a suitable man will hit on her. Lord knows she’s had to turn down dozens of offers in the past, and that was when she wasn’t even trying. She orders a whisky neat and slams it before ordering another, half nervous and half feral.

The first man who talks to her is wearing a wedding ring, and while he’s attractive and her genitals find him worthy, she can’t bring herself to participate in the breaking of vows. She excuses herself to the bathroom and finds a spot at the other end of the rail, closer to the front door. She scans the sea of suits and loudly patterned shirts, looking for the right guy. At this point she’s feeling wound up and tipsy enough to make the overture herself, possible rejection be damned.

“Scully?”

Her blood swells in her veins at the sound of his voice. She turns and finds him looking at her in awestruck surprise, unsuccessfully resisting the urge to drag his eyes from her head to her feet and back again, and the weight of his obvious appreciation makes her cunt water. “What are you doing here?”

She opens her mouth but words don’t come out. The only ones she can think of are, I need to fuck someone or I may actually die.

“Are you meeting someone?” he asks, and the little flash of displeasure in his eyes tells her everything she needs to know.

She shakes her head.

His head tilts curiously. He’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, and she can’t help but take a good long look at his firm pecs under soft cotton, and the slight shadow of his nipples.

“Picking someone up?” he asks facetiously, like it’s the least likely answer that could ever possibly be correct. Like the idea that she, Dana Scully, would be at this bar looking to get laid is absolutely insane. And it is. She feels insane. Delirious with lust and desperate to be touched.

She stares at his mouth for a moment, then lifts her eyes to meet his and cocks an eyebrow. Mulder’s smirk fades and he swallows hard. God, he smells good.

“I better scram, then,” he says uncomfortably as he starts to back away. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your chances.”

She grabs him by the wrist, her fingernails digging into his skin, and he looks so thoroughly confused.

“You wanna do something stupid?” she asks him breathlessly, and her cunt bangs on the walls, stomps on the floor, now, now, now.

They make it as far as the alley. Her car is blocks away, and he walked from his apartment, but she cannot wait that long. She needs him now. He’s stunned and worried, asking so many times if she’s sure that she tells him to shut the fuck up and silences him with her mouth. She pulls him against a dirty brick wall and palms him over his jeans, and he yelps like her hand is made of ice.

“Here?” he whispers harshly between kisses, and she answers by popping the button on his fly.

He’s enormous, and already hard. She knew, deep down, that she could have him if she wanted to, but feeling the stiff heft of him in her hand makes her feel like a fucking goddess.

“Touch me,” she begs him, and he tentatively lays his hands on her hips, running them down the sides of her thighs and making her quiver with anticipation. “Here,” she says, taking his hand and sending it under her dress and between her legs, where he groans when he feels the soaked gusset of her panties.

“Jesus, Scully,” he says in awe, slipping his fingers behind the fabric and running them over her syrupy lips.

She’s going to come, but she’s not nearly done with him. She needs to feel his big fat cock inside her. She needs to. She might burst into flames if she can’t have it. He swirls his fingers around her opening and she unravels, sinking down against the dirty brick wall until he hoists her up with his free hand. She’s still coming when she reaches for him, stroking him in time to the strobe of her orgasm, and he breathes loudly through his nose as he suppresses his own vocalizations. She herself is loud and unabashed, too desperate for decorum.

“Please,” she whispers, tugging him closer by the cock. “I need it.”

He pauses and gives her an appraising look, like the pieces are falling together. Like he understands. He removes his hand from between her legs and hitches her dress up over her hips, then presses her against the wall and moves her panties aside with the head of his cock before slamming into her.

She might have screamed. Might have drawn attention from the people smoking around the corner. She does not care. Jesus himself could come back for the rapture and she’d have to tell him that she is already in heaven, being fucked roughly fifteen feet from a dumpster by the man she’ll have to face at work tomorrow. He fills her so fully, so deeply, it scratches that persistent itch that’s been tormenting her since they crossed paths with the Kindred. She wraps her arms around his neck and achieves earthly nirvana, a feeling of pleasure so complete that even the tips of her toes are coming. He shatters her, consumes her, pours into her until he is running down her legs. And finally, finally, finally, it’s enough.

He lowers her to the ground and she wobbles on enervated legs, holding onto him with one hand while she tugs her dress back down. Mulder tucks his spent cock back into his boxers and casts her worried glances while he buttons his jeans.

“Thank you,” she says breathlessly, patting his chest. She looks up at his face and meets his eye with cutting seriousness, and he waits for her to speak. “This never happened,” she says with an air of finality, and he nods.

She stumbles back to her car, beyond sated, and drives herself home.

When she walks into the office the next morning, he asks her how her evening was, as he often does. She gives him a quick glance to confirm that the question isn’t loaded and finds a perfectly neutral expression on his face.

“Fantastic,” she says flatly. “Best night of my life.”

She feels him smiling from across the room.

[saltsicklover]

Title: Fated to Run - Fated to Fly ꨄ︎ Part One of Two

Prompt from THIS ASK

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5000+

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Creepy Dude, Rhett and Jake rescue reader, one use of Y/N, airports and flying, argument, nothing too crazy, angst

---

To all the people that said finding their soulmate was just so easy, and that they didn't even have to look deserve a giant middle finger shoved right into their face. After all, sometimes people's soulmates just fall right into their fucking laps like the divine are throwing them a goddamn bone. 

Most of us have to earn the privilege of finding our soulmates. You would think that the universe would have come up with a better system, some way to be sure that you've found exactly who you're supposed to. But it's truly fucking coincidence.

What a goddamn pain in the ass. 

Those little words scripted onto skin give only a hint, a shred of an idea that comes with far too much hope and no direction. 

In a perfect world, that script would glow when you find your person, or maybe your person would be the one to say them. Maybe there'd be a way to just know that you've found your other half. Maybe the universe could've bloomed with color upon first contact, the whole world coming to life around you. Hell, maybe the fucking ink would itch when you came close, or, maybe it could turn colors, burning like a cinder straight to the skin. 

It could have been a name, or map quadrants, an number even...

But no. 

All we get is the first thing someone else in our earshot says about our other half. It could be anyone, really, family and friends, lovers or enemies. The universe doesn't care, like it's all one big cosmic joke.  

And if you get stuck with something common? You're pretty much royally fucked. 

The amount of sorry souls who are stuck with "oh, he's a great guy," or "she's so pretty!" Have to live with hearing that damn phrase over and over again, just hoping that maybe it will lead them in the right direction.

It's sick, really, the whole goddamn thing. Especially because I want nothing else. 

"Oh, it's just Bob," is etched deep into my skin, the little letters marking over my collar bone like it's laced with disappointment. There's something about the word "just" that make's me clench my jaw. I can feel the muscle tick as I grind my teeth against each other, feeling the ridges catch. 

Whoever Bob is sure as hell isn't just anything. He is everything, and the unlucky bastard who dares say anything different has a swift right hook in their future, or maybe a hard shove, if the mood strikes. Anything that might take the edge off. 

Though I haven't met Bob yet, I feel fiercely protective over him, over the way others see him. After all, his heart is worth more than words like "just". 

The airport is just a little too dead for 3am, a few too few people ambling around half awake. Those who are here wear dark bags under their eyes, snuggled deep into their jackets to keep the too cold air conditioning from hitting their bare skin. Some pull luggage behind them, kicking it at they go, getting more and more pissed off every time their heel catches on their suitcase. Others talk too loudly on the phone, their cell's pressed to their cheeks by shoulders, by hands, others taking through their headsets. 

A sharply dressed man, clad in a brown suit and loafers argues with a woman in a language I don't speak. She is pointing at the board with a well polished fingernail, one that matches her power suit, while the man is shoving his phone into her face. It's obvious they are arguing about their flight, but neither of them seem to budge on their side. 

It's comical, really, how animated they are. I wonder if they are soulmates, if they found each other out if the sheer passion and dedication they are displaying. After all, if one has this much passion for a flight, it would only stand to reason that the business of finding their soulmate would be met with equal fever. They are a good match, too. The universe doesn't always deal out people who look like they should be together. Aesthetics clash, personalities not quite off set. But these two just have an air about them- like they belong; also like they are going to miss their flight.

I pass them as quickly as I can, as the anger rolls off of them. It's much too late, or maybe much too early to witness such an argument, and I have to make it all the way down to gate 93. With each step, my duffle bag seems to get heavier, no doubt taking after my eyelids. 

Whoever designed the Dallas airport needs to be given some sort of medal for "longest hallways that seem to lead nowhere". With every turn I take I feel like I'm headed further away, but the signs keep pushing me forward. 

Almost there, almost there. 

Gate 88 and Gate 89. 

Gate 90. 

As I walk by Gate 91, I catch two men laying on the dirty carpet in front of the lines of chairs. Their forms stand out against the oddly patterned carpet, though they almost look like they belong there. They are waiting in front of a gate that reads no destination. I know I shouldn't stare, but I can't seem to stop the slowing of my feet. I slide one side off my headphones back off of my ear, doing my best to be inconspicuous. I hope to catch a word, a whisper of what they might be saying but their lips are sealed, it seems, neither one saying a thing. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I take in their position on the ground. One has a cowboy hat pulled down over his face to try and keep the buzzing fluorescents out of his eyes. His head is balanced on a small duffle bag, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His hands sit on his stomach, fingers laced together. His skin is golden, one of those tans you get from being stuck outside day after day. 

He doesn't move a muscle. It barely looks like he's breathing, really. There's something a bit eerie about it, the stillness of him. 

The other man, blond with a cropped haircut and equally bronzed skin sits on the ground a few feet from the other. His back is leaned up against the side of a chair, his knees bent. He looks equally exhausted, eyes closed, head leaned back exposing the long line of his neck. 

He shivers a bit, the wholeness of it rolling through his body. Though he keeps his eyes closed, his expression scrunches before relaxing again. He doesn't look even remotely comfortable, unlike his stony counterpart. 

The pair have very different looks about them, the former all home grown cowboy with still muddy boots while the ladder is clean cut and chiseled. The blond has his hands shoved into the large pocket on the front of his hoodie, trying to starve off the chill that hangs in the terminal. 

Not soulmates, that's for sure. Over the years, I have been able to pick out soulmates from just a few calculated but fleeting glances. There's always something about a pair that just reads right, a vibe that they give off when they are finally buzzing together. But one thing is for sure, these two aren't soulmates, the fact that they're even friends feels funny. 

It's not an impossible fact, to be sure. The predestined soul mate, the way it's written into the universe, could be anyone. That's part of the difficulty of it, for sure, but there's always something that seems to click. Souls are like metronomes, clicking away, othering ticking, always out of time; until the right person comes along and you're right on time with each other. With this pair, they are just a little too jagged around the edges, too seasoned in their own rights to slot together. Friendship is different- nothing knit into the weave of the universe, there, though it may have been easier if it were. 

The moment I make it to my gate, I throw my bag down, by body feeling a bit too much like jelly from all of the travel to hold it any longer. The men are just a gate down, living in their own little bubble. I can't fight the smile that blooms across my face. There's that word, about knowing everyone has their own lives, their own loves. Sonder, I think it is, and in this moment it washes over me. 

"Hey," A voice rings out through the quiet of the terminal, over the loudness of my mind. I look up, my eyes meeting a man who must be in his later forties. He's balding on top, glasses shoved awkwardly onto the bridge of his nose. His clothes are a mismatch of dressy and unkempt. A suit jacket thrown over his hoodie, a pair of pajama pants adorning his bottom half. The whole ensemble is wrapped up with the cowboy hat sitting on the chair next to him, crocs on his feet. 

"Hi," I nod more than speak, a strange feeling blooming in the pit of my stomach. This is not a man I care to be around. If I keep my eyes down, hands busy, maybe he will get the message.

"Why don't you sit down and we'll have a chat," There's a sort of greasy smile that spreads across his face. A shudder dances down my spine at the sight, gooseflesh breaking out over my already cold body. The feeling of them breathing to life makes my skin go almost clammy, an uncomfortable feeling under my warm layers. 

"No, thank you," The answer is curt as I push my duffle just a little further away with my foot. It drags against the well walked carpet, the sound it makes echoing the one in my chest. It's a sort of stuck sensation, what it morphs into, one that I feel with my whole body. 

"Oh, come on, what's a little chat going to hurt?" The man tries again, leaning closer to me, sliding to the seat next to him. We are no further apart now than when we started. My foot meets the side of my duffle again, ready to push it once more. Each little move he makes my eyes train on, from the way his hand curls around the armrest to the way he seems to be peering, leering, over the tops of his too thick glasses. 

"Nope," I pop the 'P', waving my hand a bit, "I'm not entertaining this any longer."

I stoop down to grab my headphones from my bag, only to have the strange man's hand appear in front of me as he is reaching too. The step back I take is almost involuntary, more focused on getting away from his incoming touch than my things now sitting in between us. The glare I send the man is lacking due to the bubbling fear popping in my chest. I place my headphones around my neck in a shallow attempt to keep my hands from shaking. 

"Oh come on sweet-"

"Tommy Grace! There ya'are! Ya'walked right past us, girl," An arm is thrown around my shoulder, warm and lean. I shift my eyes over quickly, mind and body shooting from high alert to a sort of easy when I see the cowboy from the gate over, now standing to my side, folding me protectively under his arm. The feeling of being protected shouldn't feel quite so strong coming from a stranger. However, the way he keeps his hand right atop the cap of my shoulder, his heartbeat thrumming against my other shoulder just bleeds that feeling. 

"Oh! Seriously? You must've been hiding," I do my best to play along, instantly feeling a little more at ease as the man across from us looks less so. I can't help but revel in the uncomfortable look on the greasy man's face, as well as the warmth pouring from the cowboy. 

"Is this guy a friend o'yers?" The cowboy asks, looking at the man from under the brim of his hat. I can feel the way the pads of his fingers dig into the muscle of my arm, each finger individually curling into the thickness there. It doesn't hurt. Instead it's a grounding point, from him to me and back again. Two strangers bound together if only for a moment. 

"Oh, no, we've never met before," I tell him, gazing up at his face. The scruff of his cheek is fuller at this angle, the defined slope of his jaw easily tracible with my eyes. He's handsome from this angle, which I bet means he's even better looking from head on. 

"I see, well," The cowboy narrows his eyes, "Your brother'sa waitin' and y'know how Jake gets," 

"Boy do I," I chuckle from the safety of his embrace, throwing a sideways glance to the man who seems to be in some sort of staring match with the cowboy. Their eyes are trained on each other, fighting for dominance over the situation. From the way the greasy man's eye twitches slightly, I know the cowboy must be winning. 

"Go on an' see 'em, I'll grab your bag," He is pushing me towards the other gate, a warm palm between my shoulder blades. It's not a hard shove, but the way his hand is pressed firm to my back gives me a clue on just how quickly I need to get out of there. The cowboy shoots me a wink before turning back to the strange man, his eyes narrowing again. 

I don't want to see the look in his eye when it's turned on the greasy stranger. I can imagine just how dark those blue green eyes could tint given the right amount of rage flowing behind them. So, I keep my eyes forward, keep focused on just where I'm headed. 

Quickly, I make my way over to the now standing blond, Jake. The moment his eyes meet mine he is smiling, the kind of smile that instantly eases my nerves. I wave a bit, my hand not making it any higher than my midsection. I can't help but feel the same tiredness in my limbs that I see in his eyes. There is something weighing us both down, and something tells me it's more than just the travel. More than the overly saturated interactions with strangers and flight attendant served booze. 

The moment I'm in earshot, he's already saying hello, opening his arms wide for me. I step into his space, wrapping my arms around his middle. Carefully, almost too lightly, the blond is wrapping his arms around me. It's one of those hugs- the kind you give that estranged relative at Thanksgiving. It's a tad bit awkward from my end, but Jake squeezed me just a little bit tighter as relax against his broad frame and I can't fight the urge to press my face into the soft fabric of his hoodie. 

"Thank you," I mumble into his sweatshirt. As I pull back, the blond squeezes my shoulders quickly, a quiet "you're welcome" in return. I peer up at the tall blond, taking in the gentle curves of his smile lines, how they frame his headstone like teeth, polished white and perfectly straight. His tongue flicks over the corner of his mouth, eyes positioned somewhere behind me.

There is something in that look of his, something playing behind the sea glass tint of his irises. It's a sort of mirth, if mirth was more gentle than the definition explains. Maybe it's a fondness for the other man, one that's hidden behind layers of faux dislike and teasing. The pair bonded together as brothers are, all bemused, an oath, blood of the covenant, that they don't remember taking.  

As I turn to follow his eyeline, Jake folds me carefully under his arm just as the cowboy had before. Maybe their friendship is stronger than I had originally thought. The way they seem to work in unison to the very clear way they've each folded me into the safety of their embrace. It's different with Jake though. He's more calm, his heartbeat isn't hammering out of his chest. I can scarlessly feel it where our bodies are pressed together. 

"Does he do this kind of thing often?" There's a sideways glance shared between us before Jake's chest raddles with a light chuckle. It awakens him just a bit behind the eyes. 

"Yes, but we usually know the girl," The humor in his voice makes the anxiety in my stomach settle a bit. His voice is too warm, too kind to elicit anything but safety in this moment. 

I can feel the small smile ghosting over my lips, the image of the pair many years younger fluttering through my brain. The cowboy and Jake, rescuing girls in the school hallways, folding innocent girls, with glasses and hair pulled back into tidy braids, into their embrace. There's a sort of teamwork in the way it all went down today, through I missed the progression. From the moment the cowboy tucked my body into his, the intense hammering of his own heartbeat be damned, to the way Jake greeted me with literal open arms. There's so much warmth here. 

"And he'd not your soulmate," It's a statement, plain and simple. That get's him laughing for real this time, his whole face coming to life from how his smile overtakes his expression. 

"Not remotely," The words make it out a moment later as Jake still fights a bit to catch his breath. "We grew up near each other, down the same county road just outside a forgettable town here in Texas," 

"Escaping while you still can?" I chide, nudging him with my elbow. 

"I escaped a long time ago," Jake corrects, a small shrug pulls away his body heat for just a moment before it returns. 

"But you're back?" 

"Rhett and I are headed to California," The explanation comes easy, and for a moment I wonder why he's even explaining it all to me, but I am thankful to know the real name of the cowboy, "He's helping get me settled in Miramar, new permanent station," 

"Station? Does that make you Army?"

There's that laugh again. 

"Naval Aviator," There's no sharpness in the correction, as cocky as it is.

"Wouldn't it be a new port for you then, Sailor?" I nudge him again, playfully. There is something so easy about talking to Jake, his arm folding me into his warmth. Something truly sibling like about it, my place here under his sturdy frame. His protective nature and warm smile, a sort of family for just a few fleeting moments. 

"I guess you're right," There's a tad bit of humor in that sentence, but it's hiding behind the tiredness layered in his voice. 

"Wait, did you say Naval Aviator?" I look up at him so directly, eyebrows pulled tightly together as I fight to keep a smile off of my lips. "And you're going to Miramar?" 

I watch as he pulls his own well groomed eyebrows together in a furrow, his lips curving into a ghost of a frown. 

"Yes, Ma'am," 

I can't fight the laugh that bubbles past my lips, the whole thing sounding a bit too sharp, a bit too loud. Where most men are put off by the sound, Jake just looks at me with curious eyes. His tongue flicks over the corner of his slightly upturned mouth, that grin silently begging for me to continue. 

"What're you lot laughin' bout?" Rhett calls out, his voice filling my ears. 

"Well, turns out my brother," I wink at Rhett now, turning my attention his way, "works under my father,"

If the progression of thought could be clearly mapped through faces with flicks of tongues and furrowing of brows, the pair would have told a whole story in the matter of seconds, of squinted eyes and the pursing of lips. 

"Your father?" The pair speak in unison, accents blending together. I can't help but laugh as I flick my eyes between them. Both wear a sort of confused expression, bemused with eyebrows scrunched together, head tilting just so. 

"Yes, my father. Rear Admiral Simpson?" I offer the name as a sort of clarification, though it comes out as a question. Rhett's eyebrows knit together a little tighter, eyes darting to Jake for assurance, or maybe it's confirmation. Jake's eyebrows are raised, his mouth slightly agape by the time my gaze slips back over him. 

"You're Cyclone's kid?" There's more to it, from the way his mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he catches the tip of his tongue between his perfect front teeth. "Are you Arrow?"

"Oh, hell no!" I can't hold back the laughter, my cheeks no doubt pinking up from the way my smile pushes them out, "That's my older brother, Anthony! He's an Aviator too, hoping to get selected for Top Gun any day now... Though I doubt that they'll send him anytime soon with Dad stationed there," 

Rhett's arms are crossed over his chest, his eyebrows no less furrowed than before. Jake's expression is still scrunched up a bit, but the lines are slowly relaxing with the more information he gets, so I continue.

"My name is Y/N Simpson, but everyone calls me Birdie," I hold my hand out first to Rhett, as I'm still tucked close to Jake, his arm slung over my shoulders. 

"Birdie, is'a pleasure," Rhett removes his hat with one hand, shaking my outstretched one with the other. He gives it a quick squeeze before letting go, a kind smile on his face. 

"Birdie?" Jake asks, tip of his tongue snug in the corner of his lips. 

"Yeah, Birdie. You know, Cyclone, Arrow, Birdie, all things that have to do with wind and flying? My dad and brother both got call signs, but I had zero interest in doing anything with the military, but Uncle Solo dubbed me Birdie when I was tiny and it's stuck ever since." 

"Solo? Is'e Navy too?" Rhett chimes in. He scratches at the back of his head, his hat tipping forward into his eyes a bit. 

"Sure is. Admiral Solomon Bates, goes by Warlock," Jake stiffens a bit at the name, but relaxes a bit soon after. I bump his hip with my own, shooting a wink up his way. 

"Well then, Birdie, it's nice to officially meet you," It's a bad recovery, but he clears his throat and keeps speaking, "I've gotta say, your dad didn't mention he had a daughter," 

"Oh yeah, that's not at all a surprise. You know how Sailors can be, and my Dad is a bit over protective of me. He's big on me keeping men at a distance. And if said man is Military? Ha! Not an ice cubes chance in hell that they'd make it within a hundred feet of me," 

Rhett smirks a bit, eyes flicking from my own glare down towards the floor. I know Jake's arm is still wrapped around my shoulder, just as I know that he is still sparing quick glances over to the greasy man a few yards away. I kick the toe of Rhett's boot with my own, wrinkling my nose at the way he snickers. 

"So no soulmate yet?" Jake asks, tilting his chin down to look me in the eye. The question is so full of genuine curiosity and for once I don't feel terrible answering.

"Nope, not yet. Not even a damn lead, but that's okay. I'm a firm believer that it's going to happen when it's supposed to. I'm not in a rush," That last part may be a bit of a lie. I want nothing more than to finally meet the person that's supposed to be mine, mind, body, and soul. Their supposed to be this sort of connection, one that most people who have met their soulmate have only been able to hint at. It's one of those things where words just don't do it justice, even the great poets seem to have failed to find the words. 

"Tha's too bad, 'cause I'd've jumped at the chance to take ya ta dinner," Rhett shoots me a wink, his blue eyes twinkling under the stark white lights. 

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I jest, sticking my tongue out at him. There's another nudge between boots. 

"Oh, he does, but he sure does have a knack for finding the prettiest ones," Jake interjects, bumping my hip with his own. I push him back with my shoulder, causing him to finally drop his arm he's had draped around me for the better part of the last twenty minutes. 

"Whatever you say," I roll my eyes, "What about you boys, either of you found your better half?" 

The way Jake's face lights up at the question gives me the answer before his words can. Rhett is just shaking his head, mumbling a "here we go" under his breath. 

"I sure have! Rooster, he's an Aviator too," Jake begins eagerly, "We met like eight years ago? Maybe nine? I'm not sure, but it was in the middle of the ocean on a carrier, and we butted heads better than the best of 'em. I had graduated Top Gun not too long before, and he hadn't been yet, though he went shortly after that deployment. I don't think we would've figured it out if we hadn't decided to-"

"Don't even say it, Seresin," Rhett threatens with a point of his finger, aim fixed right between the taller man's eyes. 

"I wasn't gonna go into detail," Jake laughs, though there's a glint of trouble in his eyes, "All I'm saying is that if we hadn't hauled each other into that bathroom stall at the bar and-"

"Flight number 4582, Dallas to San Diego is now boarding Group 1, priority members and military members traveling on active orders,"  A woman voice crackles through the intercom.

"Saved by the fuckin' bell," Rhett comments loud enough for Jake and I to hear. The boys begin to grab their bags, each only traveling with a small duffle bag. Rhett heads for the gate first, his bag slung over his shoulder, hat in hand. Jake follows after him, his bag clutched tightly in his hand. 

"Thanks again you two" I call after them with a little wave. Jake stops in his tracks, turning back around to face me.

"Aren't you coming, Birdie?" There's that cock of his head again. 

"Us lowly civilians have to wait until the next group to board," I joke back.

"Not anymore, you're boarding with me, come on!" Then Jake is all but hauling me through the ticket line and onto the plane. Jake throws my carryon into the bin above the row of seats Rhett has claimed and Jake waved me into the same row with a tilt of his head. Without assigned seating, the pair having decided that I'm going to be sitting in the middle seat between them. Maybe I should be more nervous, sitting between two strange men, but sitting here now the only thing I feel is safe. 

The whole flight my head switches between resting on either one of their shoulders, sleep evading me completely. I went from tracing the lines of Rhett's hat as it sat atop his knee to counting just how many times Jake bounced his knee. 

Part of the way through, he admitted that he's a terrible passenger, had been since he graduated from flight school. Maybe it's a control issue, or maybe it's the surrounding people moving all around the large aircraft. Either way Jake bounces his knee the whole flight. Sometimes he'd wipe his palms down his jean clad thighs to ease the tension and give a slight reprieve to the constant movement. 

Rhett snored gently next to me, though he murmured in his sleep just a little. No words ever slipped past his lips, just half cut off sounds and the ghosts of sentiments. He kept his hands folded across his belly, head lulled towards the small window. I hate to admit it, but I admired the long line of his neck as his head was laid against the wall. 

Neither man listened to any sort of music during the flight, which struck me as odd. My headphones sat snug over my ears through most of the flight, a folk country playlist thrumming through them. 

The flight was fast, in the grand scheme and everyone aboard seemed to be thrilled to get off the plane. This terminal is busier than the last. The early morning traffic of the airport filled with people in suits, both sweat and formal. The boys and I walk side by side by side, making our way through the crowd like a force. Maybe it's the sheer size of the men at my sides, but the crowd seems to part for us. 

The trilling of a cellphone breaks up the sounds of the terminal, following us as we walk. 

"Jake," Rhett flicks his gaze towards his friend, a silly look on his face. 

"What?" 

"That's your phone, dude," I nudge him with my shoulder, our bags bumping together. By the time Jake fishes the device from his front pocket, the factory set ringtone has gone silent. 

"Eyes up, Cowboy," I warn as we approach the tram. Rhett's eyes flick up just long fast enough that he doesn't trip over the gap.  The doors closing behind us quickly, and Rhett bumps into one of the stationary poles in attempt to get out of it's way. 

"It truly amazes me that he's a bull rider, since his sense of personal space sucks so bad," Jake mutters, leaning a bit closer to my ear. I can't help but snicker too. 

"Bull rider?" The question is met with a nod from Jake as he presses the phone up to his ear. 

Jake stands near, phone pressed to his ear with knit brows. The look of concentration on his face is tight, like he's trying to make out a hard to hear piece of information on the other side of the line. He pulls the phone away from his ear as we step off the tram, heading for baggage claim. 

They bracket me between them once again, a tall man on each side of me. We share smiles as we walk in time with one another. A little trio formed because one sleazey dude at the Dallas airport couldn't take a hint. Life is funny that way. 

They say the universe only hand picks soulmates, decorating skin just to prove that point. I, however, think friends are found in the flick of the same pen. After all, there's magic left over in the spaces between the letters, in the flick of the wrist of the universe. There has to be. 

"Long message," Rhett comments, "Who was it anyway?"

"Oh, it's just Bob," Jake informs us. Rhett hums in response, but my feet stop moving. They retreat into the tunnel of my vision, blending in with the other travelers moving around us. Their once recognizable frames, broad and welcoming, melt into the sea of movement. Nothing in my vision sticks out, my brain too busy playing those damn words on loop. 

Oh, it's just Bob. Oh, it's just Bob. Oh, it's just Bob. 

There's a fleeting feeling in my fingertips from where my bag as slipped from them. There's the far off sound of it hitting the tile. My vision buzzes with people but god, those words are in the forefront of it all. 

Oh, it's just Bob. 

This moment may be stillness surrounded by the bustle of the San Diego airport. It may be bodies bumping into my own, shoulders connecting as someone passes. It may be one day be a memory of the way my whole body seems to have gone slick with sweat, far too warm and mildly uncomfortable. It may be a realization, both now and in the future. This moment may be the beginning of the rest of my life. 

I'm not ready. Not for the future. Not for Bob. Not for facing his friends who must have noticed that I'm no longer by their side by now. I'm not ready for any of it. Not even remotely. I guess it sure wasn't a lie when I told them that I wasn't "in a rush". 

The chill of the air hits me as I all but break through the sliding doors, out to the taxi line up. There's shouting, it's far off, covered by those four little words and the beating of my heart. I slide into the back of a taxi, my bag discarded onto the seat next to me. With the slam of the door, the taxi is pulling away from the curb. I press my forehead to the glass of the window, my breath fogging up the sight of Rhett and Jake breaking through the crowd. They stand there, confusion written into their features as they watch the cab pull away. 

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I squeeze them together. A deep sigh escapes me, the realization hitting me. They know my dad, at least Jake does. And we are all going to Miramar. It's only a matter of time before our paths cross again.

Maybe it wasn't even my Bob, I try and rationalize with myself. After all, how many people in the world are named "Bob" anyway? It's shallow in theory, a sort of knowing feeling sitting heavy in my gut. That was my Bob on the other end of that message; the feeling deep in my chest aches in a way that it just has to be true. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

It's only a matter of time before our paths cross again. On base, in the commissary as we grocery shop. Eye contact over fresh produce, hands busy but eyes filled with questions. Or in my father's office, Jake dropping by on business as my dad and I sit on either side of his large desk. Words caught in our throats, my father's gaze wandering between us. Maybe it will be at the bar, our eyes locking from across the room. Questions shouted over the music; over the smell of alcohol. 

And maybe Bob would be there too, looking positively like a dream I haven't fully allowed myself to have. He'd be there like the sunshine, glowing and warm and something I just wouldn't be able to outrun. He'd be all smiles and kind hands, wrapping me into his embrace in the same way his friends had. 

It's only a matter of time, but I'll run now. 

[authorautumnbanks]

Brat Tamer (5)

Read chapter 4

Through the mattress.

Satoru bites his bottom lip as he watches Kagome move around the small kitchen. His eyes drift down, taking in the curve of her neck, her back, and the way that ass jiggles every time she moves in that short silk robe.

He just needs to behave, right? Easier said than done. He wants to take a bite out of that ass. Wants to squeeze her tits while she rides him.

"Are you driving me around today?" He clears his throat, trying to go for cool and collected, and failing miserably. How can he be calm? Last night was the best sleep he's had in years. And now he gets to watch Kagome make breakfast for them. He offered to pay for them to go out, but Kagome waved him off.

He kinda likes how she wants to take care of him. Kinda likes how no one else gets to see her like this. He frowns, mood souring. Who else has gotten to see her like this and how does he ask without raising questions?

"No, Ijichi will drive you around as normal." She slides the plate of pancakes in front of him and then sets a mug of coffee down. "I'm busy today, so I won't have time to play with you."

Play with him?

Satoru chuckles. "Such a cold woman." She takes care of him and now she expects him to sleep without her? Without smelling her scent on the sheets? He doesn't want to go back to having Ijichi run him around.

"Kagome-sama," she reminds him before turning away. "Acting out isn't going to give you what you want." She grabs a plate and a cup of coffee for herself. "If you want to sleep over again, you will address me appropriately." Kagome sits across from him. Her foot caresses his leg, and he's of the mind to toss the table out of the way so she can touch him where he really wants her to.

She crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side. "On your knees."

Satoru swallows. He scoots back in the chair and drops to his knees. The table isn't tall enough for him to climb under it even with him on his knees, so he crawls on his hands and knees over to her. Unlike her robe, his is much longer and probably doing a piss ass job of hiding how turned on he is.

Kagome smiles.

His blood rushes to his groin so quickly he gets lightheaded. The way she is looking down on him right now is exquisite. She quirks a brow, and he bows his head in response.

"I was disappointed to hear you wouldn't be with me today, Kagome-sama," he says slowly, making sure to keep his head down, though he wants to sneak a peek at her thighs. "That I spoke out of turn."

Touch me. Touch me. Touch me.

Kagome turns and slides her foot under his chin, forcing his head up. His nostrils flare. He must be a sick fuck, because even this is doing it for him.

Kami, he wants her.

Wants her more than anything he's ever desired before.

He wants her happiness, her sadness, her joy, her scorn. He wants it all.

Satoru flinches. He's getting a little too ahead of himself. That sounds like more than a fling. He doesn't know the first thing about keeping a woman happy outside of sex. Relationships have never been a priority, but damn if he doesn't want to try with her, if only to keep those other vultures away.

He has seen how the other sorcerers look at Kagome when she isn't looking. How they boast about their unimpressive feats.

Kagome lifts her foot and rests her heel on his lips. Satoru's eyes widen. His breathing becomes heavier. The thin robe slides up, and he's desperate to know if she's wearing anything underneath. She was up before him, so maybe she slipped on some underwear?

He hopes not. Will she let him taste her? He's always favored sweets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He just knows she'll taste amazing.

His body trembles from having to suppress himself. This has never been an issue before.

"Satoru."

His eyes snap to hers. The look of expectancy has him swallowing. Oh fuck. He isn't sure how to define what they are, but a fling this is not. Satoru opens his mouth and flicks his tongue out. Kagome's smile deepens as she pushes her foot further into his mouth.

"Good boy." She leans forward and then grips his hair. She pulls, forcing his head to tilt to the side. "You like this?"

"Y-yes?" Did he just fucking stutter? What is wrong with him? A little rough housing and he's submitting just the way she likes?

Kagome tightens her hold on his strands and then she pushes him away. "Go finish your breakfast before it gets cold."

Satoru goes to stand.

"Crawl."

He sucks in a breath and crawls back over to his seat. Kagome ignores him while she sips on her coffee as though she didn't just try to gag him with her foot. He slides back into the chair and clenches his fists. Everything about this has him so off his axis, he isn't sure how to act. A part of him wants to act out, but the other half of him wants to behave and hear her praise.

He blinks at the sight of his hair on the table next to her plate. Is she keeping his strands for a ritual or something? Kagome sets her mug down.

"I'm going to commission a collar for you."

"Commission?" Good, his voice is back to normal. "Like a dog collar?" He picks up his utensils and cuts into the pancakes first. His heart beats a little faster. Does she want to walk him like a dog? His lips twitch at the thought of being at her mercy.

Did she do something to him? Or has he always had these desires?

"Mhmm. You were eying the hair strands. I need them for your collar."

"Sounds like you want to..." He wets his lips, thinking over how he should phrase this without pissing her off. But when he acts out, she touches him.

"I can tell what you're thinking and if you keep it up, your punishment will be to stay out of my sight until I deem you can be in my presence again."

His mouth snaps shut. Is she serious?

Shit.

She is.

"Can I stay over again?" Will she take pity on him? He's trying really hard right now to keep himself composed.

Kagome frowns. "I wasn't planning on coming back tonight." She tugs on her bottom lip with her finger and then blows out a breath, letting her hand drop. "Is it that big of a deal for you? I'm not sleeping with you yet, if that's your angle."

Yet? He latches on to that word like a lifeline.

"I just want to be next to you, Kagome-sama," he says, lowering his voice. If he keeps his head down, will she flare her energy and wrap him in it? Better yet, will she let him taste her? Just enough to get him through the day and maybe a little more to get him through the night. He hunches his shoulders in an effort to appear smaller than he is.

If he plays the part of looking pathetic, will she take mercy on him?

"I think a few days apart will be fine," she says. "Do I need to put a chastity belt on you, or will you behave?"

"I'll behave, Kagome-sama." Damn it. Is he not being submissive enough? His mind is torn. On one hand, Kagome owes him nothing, but on the other hand, she claimed him as hers, so shouldn't that count for something?

The last thing he wants is a chastity belt. Knowing Kagome, she'd do something to it and prevent him from breaking it. His brows furrow together. He needs to figure out how her energy works and why he isn't nearly as concerned as he should be.

"Ijichi-san will be here shortly if you want to take a shower before he arrives," she continues. "I instructed him to bring some clothes for you since we forgot that last night."

He nearly drops his fork. "You told Ijichi to pick me up from here with a pair of clothes to change into?" Yeah, Ijichi has a key to his place because he also takes care of the dry cleaning, but he didn't expect Kagome to know that.

Has she been watching him? His heart beats a little faster. Maybe she isn't as unaffected as she appears. He bites back the smile. Doesn't want her to think he's plotting something and then get on prickly with him.

"Well, I just put your clothes in the washer, and they won't be dry by the time you need to go." Kagome gives him a look. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, Kagome-sama... I just thought we were keeping this a secret." He motions to the space between them.

"I didn't announce you're my brat if that's what you're concerned about." She shrugs. "I'm not ashamed of you."

"Oh," he breathes. That's a relief. "So, in front of others, I can address you like a regular partner?" Whatever that means. He'll figure it out.

Kagome narrows her eyes. "So long as you do not push it. I can see the gears turning and you will not be happy when we get home." She stands and picks up her plate. "Go shower."

Satoru opens his mouth to argue but decides better of it. No, he's playing the long game, and it is fun in a way to let someone else make all the decisions. Here, he isn't Satoru the strongest, but Satoru the man. He glances at her back and down at her feet. Well, more like Satoru the pet. He stands and picks up his plate and cup.

What matters is he is hers and she is his.

"I can wash these first." He stands next to her and inhales. She smells so good. Is it the anticipation that him so heady with need or is it just Kagome? He suspects it's just her. No one else has made him feel even a fraction of what he feels when he's next to her.

Kagome eyes him and then relents. She steps to the side and leans against the counter, watching him. Does she think he'll break her dishes somehow or is it she doesn't want to part from him? He hopes it's the latter.

"How many—" Satoru clears his throat. "How many days will you be gone?" She said she was going to have a collar commissioned for him. How long does that really take? It shouldn't take more than an hour or so to have something commissioned unless she plans to wait for it to be ready. "Is it a week-long mission?"

"About three days, give or take." She moves away and yawns. "I need to replace some of the seals on Sukuna's fingers. Heard they've been weakening."

"Sounds dangerous."

"It's really not." She laughs. "I appreciate your concern, Satoru, but I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." She waves a hand in the air and with a jolt, he feels her energy sizzle across his skin. Satoru bites his lip and grips the edge of the sink. He sucks in a breath and tries to calm himself down. The feel of her energy electrifies him. It doesn't last long, but it feels like a lifetime of memories passed behind his eyes.

"Kagome-sama," his voice is ragged with need.

"Hm?"

He wants to drop to his knees and beg her for more. She'd turn him down. Satoru opens his eyes and gathers the shredded remains of his control. He glues himself back together and centers himself. This is a test. He's never failed a test in his life, and he doesn't aim to now.

"I'm going to take that shower now." Each step is harder than the last. The hall to the bathroom isn't long by any means, but it feels as though he's on a trek across the country. How does she do it? Leave him feeling so scrambled inside with the only thing on his mind is her? He closes the door behind him and leans his head back against the door.

Seriously, how is he supposed to last three days or more without her touch?

He closes his eyes and breathes out of his mouth. Three days. He'll take on so many missions, he won't have time to miss her.

Yeah, that's the plan.

***

A/N: We'll see the demon realm in the next chapter. I doubt Satoru behaves while she's gone. Hojo will most likely make an appearance to show Satoru how a sub is supposed to act.

Next update will be Wish I Could. Probably update on Sunday since those chapters are longer than the others.

Take care of yourselves! Stay healthy and make sure to take your vitamins!

[muldermuse]

this isn’t finished but I wanted to post it for Xmas eve!!!! (Even though here it finishes soon). I will post the completed version soon!!!

This is part of the two sinners world

Gator has a Xmas present at readers house

18+ only!!! Mdni

Ok seeing Gator on Christmas Day is out of the question. He’s spending the day with Glenda and Roy reciting their favourite psalms and thanking the lord for a bountiful Christmas. Glenda goes all out at Christmas, it’s obviously her favourite holiday and she constantly updates her Facebook with pictures of a content looking Roy and an exhausted looking Gator. No doubt, Glenda will have made him a piece of her artwork and bought him some novelty socks. He’ll smile at her and press a kiss to her cheek but you rejoice in the knowledge that thoughts of your Christmas Eve are running through his head. 

[sent at 13:30] You: got your Christmas present at my house. Door will be unlocked for when you finish at 6. I’ll be upstairs 🎁

[received at 13:42] Gator💩🐍: am i on the nice list?

[sent at 13:43] You: no. See you at 6 💋

***

His Christmas present is you- OBVIOUSLY. But it’s a version of you that Gator only really gets when he begs and even then, you don’t always give it him. He asks for this when you eat his ass or when he’s had a week of basically getting non stop shit from his daddy or Glenda. 

He wants you to be in control and dominate him. 

You’re wearing a red lace set with garters and pointy red heels. It’s nearly pitch black by the time Gator arrives. You’ve left on one lamp downstairs to guide him up but honestly he knows the layout of your home like the back of his hand. In the bedroom, your curtains are open with the twinkling of outdoor Christmas lights provide occasional flickers that illuminate your bed sheets. A cinnamon candle is glowing by the door and nearly blows out when Gator enters as dramatic as ever. 

You’re sat at the end of the bed waiting for him and you smirk as you take in his expression- seemingly enthralled by your red look. 

“Crawl to me, baby” your voice is low and by the way Gator drops to his knees without hesitation- you already know how tonight is going to go. 

He’s slow in his movement, keeping eye contact with you as he crawls towards your open legs and stopping a few inches from your panties. His eyes are fixed on the damp spot on your red underwear and the shuddering breaths are filling the room. You run your hands through his slicked back hair as you try not to recoil at the unnatural feeling of brushing your nails through hair gel. 

“Y’wanna taste?” He looks up at you with the most love sick eyes you’ve ever seen, he nods slowly as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip. You grip his hair in your hand as you push him into your panties, “make me cum with my panties still on baby- y’don’t deserve to taste properly just yet”. He groans as he pushes his face further into your pussy. He’s messy with it and you can feel his spit dripping down between your legs. It feels so good and the knowledge that he’s desperate to please you brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Take my panties off and make me cum on your tongue Gator, don’t let me down” you throw your head back on the bed as you feel Gator rip your panties down your legs and throw them across the room. He’s that desperate to make you cum he’s moaning into your pussy as he eats you out and you know he’s palming himself over his cargos. Your back arches as you clamp your thighs around Gator’s head and cry out as you cum. 

He’s pressing hot kisses to your thighs as your pussy clenches around nothing, you can feel your breathing begin to regulate again as you come down from your high. Your hand smoothes over his ruffled hair, “that was so good Gator. You did such a good job…good to know you can do something right”. His smile drops at your final sentence. You stand on trembling legs and go to your closest to get the box that Gator both wants and dreads. 

You can hear him kicking off his boots and unzipping his cargos. 

“Did I tell you to get undressed?”

“No but uh- I thought…”

You softly kiss him, tasting the remnants of your cum on his plush lips. “Don’t think baby, I know how hard that can be for you. Just lie on the bed dressed how you are now- hands above your head”.