#but when it comes down to it you both just want to keep the other safe more than anything. because maybe you still love each other

[moonstruckme]

vampire!james biting you (consensually) during sex pleasepleaseplease

Ohhhhhh absolutely (ty for requesting <3)

cw: smut mdni, blood, some praise I guess, a bit of rough play

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

There are little love bites in several places on the insides of your thighs, and you could never lose your appreciation for the way James uses his teeth, but it’s not the way you’d like him to use them now. 

“James.” The end of his name pitches with a gasp as the tip of his cock pushes up against your entrance, already wet and worked open from the wonders of his tongue. The same tongue that’s now pressed flat against the underside of your tit while he sucks a mark into your skin. 

“Hm?” He takes his lips from you with a lewd suctioning sound. “What is it, lovie?” 

“You know,” you nearly whine. 

James grins, pressing a sloppy kiss over the bruise he’s left you. “I’m not sure. You can’t donate blood only a few days apart, you know. You wouldn't be allowed.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not a clinic.” 

“I’m not,” he agrees. Big hands traveling up your sides as he closes his teeth lightly around your nipple. You make a soft, stymied sound when his cock sponges over your hole again. “Is this not enough for you anymore, lovely girl?” 

“It is.” You roll your hips to make contact again. “It is, m’just thinking. I mean, I sucked you off already.” 

James laughs so loudly he has to lift his mouth from your tit. He looks at you, lips swollen and pulled back in an appalled sort of smile. His eyes dip momentarily to your seeping entrance. “Sort of thought I already repaid that favor.” 

You shrug, your own smile sheepish. “Just saying.” 

James’ laughter becomes a low thrum as he kisses up your throat, lips mushing into the soft underside of your jaw. “My little blood addict.” 

“I think that’s more your thing, actually,” you qualify, though your eyes are already falling closed, neck arching with anticipation. “And I’m not addicted. It’s just nice.” 

“Mm, not sure I should be enabling you.” His nose draws a line down to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. There are no hickeys there, which can hardly be said about most other parts of you. You suspect James has been avoiding it out of fear of a Pavlovian response. On the opposite side of your neck, two small puncture wounds from the last time he’d fed on you are still healing. He doesn’t do it often (though you’ve voiced your willingness frequently), only when he can’t find an alternative, but you love to be the source he turns to. You love to feel like you’re doing something for him, even if you get pleasure from it, too. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice gone whispery in that way that lets you know his fangs have come out. His breath fans hot over your skin, making you shiver. 

Your answering hum is pitchy with eagerness. 

“Remember the rules?” 

You nod. Squeeze James’ shoulder if it’s too much. If it hurts, if you start to feel lightheaded, anything. “Yeah,” you breathe. “James, please.” 

His teeth sink into you. 

Your mouth tips open on a cry, instinctual and unrestrained. You grip James’ back, pulling him closer to you, pushing your pert nipples up against his chest. His low moan rumbles over your skin. Now that you’ve grown a bit used to the initial high of the bite, you’re more able to focus on the details, the minute sensations you’d overlooked at first. You can feel his other teeth, his molars, pressing bluntly on your skin as James makes sure his fangs puncture your artery. He extracts them slowly, careful not to damage you any more than he has to. He’s so sweet with you, so attentive and meticulous despite the instincts you’re sure are screaming at him to hasten the process. 

When his lips suction to your skin, they’re just as kind. He holds the back of your neck to keep you both steady, and you feel blindly for his cock, guiding it to your folds. You want to fill him up while he fills you, want for both of you to get the most out of these two kinds of pleasure. 

The feeling of your warm cunt meeting his tip makes James release a tight, hoarse sound and sends his hand into your hair. You tilt your hips to take him better, and he sinks into you in one languid motion. 

You cry out, nails biting into James’ back as tears prick your eyes. It’s the most sensation you’ve ever known, on the brink of overwhelming but kept pleasurable by the comforting fuzziness of your brain. 

James drinks greedily as he starts to move inside you, growing messier as he picks up the pace until he’s slurping you up, moaning around mouthfuls, and you’re weeping with ecstasy beneath him. When he decides you’ve had enough and he can’t keep his mouth still anymore, he licks the wound gently, sealing it closed. 

Normally you hate when it’s over, but this time you’re ready for it. You catch his mouth with yours, not minding when his still retracting fangs nick your bottom lip. James meets you all the way, nipping and sucking at your lip in the way you like. He kisses a tear off your cheek. 

“Y’okay, baby?” he asks. “Not too much?” 

“No.” You shake your head ardently, nearly sobbing as his cock drives repeatedly into the sweet spot along your inner wall. “It’s so good. So good, Jamie.” 

“That’s my girl.” He grins, squeezing the flesh of your tit so you keen and arch up off the bed. “My sweet girl, getting off on taking care of me. Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

It does. You like it, all of it. You like wearing high-necked tops to cover the marks he leaves you. You like the feeling of a secret shared, something only the two of you know about. You like the look on James’ face right before, and the different one right after. You do, really, really like feeling like you’re taking care of him, giving him what he needs, bleeding life into him. And he knows you do. 

James’ kisses sweeten even as his hands move to your waist, holding you still so he can pound into you. You choke on a sob mixed with a moan, and you finish faster than you ever have, James not long after. 

When you’re both limp and lazy from exhaustion, James lays down pillowy soft kisses in a meandering line from your ear to your shoulder. His hand rests splayed over your sternum, heavy and grounding.

“Y’know,” he says, lips sponging gently over your puncture marks, “when most girls say their boyfriend is a leech, this isn’t what they mean.” 

You let your eyes flutter closed, focussing on the feel of his lips on you. Gentle, devout. “I like our way better. You’re my leech.” 

You feel James smile against your shoulder. “Just what every guy wants to hear.” 

“Mm, I know. I’m generous like that.” 

[livebeforeyoulearn]

Safe in Her Arms

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Use of safe word, Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Alexia goes a little too far and cares for you after.

Request

-

Alexia's lips latch onto your neck, branding the tender skin again and again, each press hot and possessive. Her mouth moves with unrestrained hunger, grazing, sucking, her tongue gliding over the bruised spots. She feels like a vampire lost to desire, marking you as hers, and each time her teeth scrape or her lips suckle, you gasp beneath her, arching into her body. 

“Another?” Her words come close to a tease, yet they’re a question too, just as much as a request. You hum in reply, words failing you, reduced to the basic sound that’s enough to make her smirk. 

She shifts, lifting herself up to her knees, her eyes locking onto you in that potent way that leaves you feeling bare, vulnerable, but willing. Your legs are spread wide open for her, aching and receptive, and you’re not sure how many times she’s had you like this tonight – maybe the fifth, or the sixth? Your body is worn and sensitive, surrendering to her insatiable rhythm with a desperation that mirrors her own. But how could you deny her?

“Remember your word, bebé?” she whispers, and you manage a nod. She studies you, intent. “Tell me, I need to know you remember.”

“Red,” you manage, a whisper from hoarse lips. 

She hums in approval, her lips curving into yet another smirk, seemingly thrilled by your surrender. "Good," she murmurs, her gaze intense, devouring you whole. Her hands grip your thighs, keeping you open, exposed, as her eyes drink in the sight of you, desire deepening in her gaze. “Still want me so bad, huh? Have I not given you enough already?” she teases, her voice dripping with a possessive pride that leaves you trembling.

Your response is a helpless whimper, and she leans back, her hand finding the strap, sliding along its length to coat it with the traces of earlier pleasure before guiding it towards you. You can feel her gaze on you, taking in every subtle movement, every little sound you make as she drags the tip of it through your folds.

“Alexia, please,” you beg, voice breaking on the edge of a whine, every inch of you hyperaware of each movement. Her grin only widens, slow and dangerous, as she relishes in making you beg, enjoying every second that she has you at her mercy.

When she finally presses forwards, the tip stretching you in a way that’s both familiar and fresh, your mouth falls open, a strangled moan escaping as she fills you once more. You’re tight, your body trembling, and the pressure makes your eyes roll back, lost in the feeling she draws from you. Her eyes are locked between your legs, completely lost in how you take her; entranced. Her breaths are shallow as she watches your body open up to her touch, every inch of her consuming you.

Her movements start slow as she leans down, her fingers threading through yours, pinning your hands beside your head, trapping you under her as her hips find a steady rhythm. You glance up at her, catching sight of her torso, her abs flexing with each thrust. The sight alone is enough to make you melt, your body responding with even more need. Her eyes trail up your body, taking in every inch before she lowers her mouth to your chest, her lips catching one of your sensitive nipples. Each suck and bite, each motion is precise and demanding, pushing you further until your mind is hazy.

“Ale,” you moan, voice cracking as she moves faster, her rhythm intense, her own need apparent in the way she holds herself. “Fuck,” each thrust sends you reeling, caught between pain and pleasure, unsure where one sensation ends and the other begins, and yet you crave it all, maybe even crave for it to stop, though you can't quite tell anymore. Everything blurs together, and all you can do is feel.

You tighten your grip around her hands, nails pressing into her skin, and she responds with a groan, dragging her teeth along your chest, a teasing nip that makes you cry out. She watches, caught in her own pleasure, your hips lifting despite the overwhelming ache. Her body presses you down, her control firm as she whispers praises, “Ho estas fent molt be, mi princesa.” 

She slips one hand free from your grasp, sliding it down to steady your hips as her thumb begins tracing slow, agonising circles over your sensitive clit. Your free hand drifts down to her abdomen, fingertips pressing firmly along the defined lines of her abs. Your nails rake against her skin, leaving faint, heated crescents in their wake, a breath escaping her lips as she feels each trace you leave behind.

“Mira’t,” she husks. “Taking me so well.”

Her thumb presses harder against you, and as her lips capture yours in a messy, needy kiss, your mind spins. You can feel that familiar heat building, intensifying as she pushes you to the edge one final time until everything snaps, sending you headlong into bliss. Your vision fades, your senses numbing, body going limp. As the waves of ecstasy wash over you, her lips trail down your jawline to your neck, kissing and sucking with fervent desire. Each soft bite sends goosebumps across your skin, pulling you deeper as she explores the sensitive curve of your throat. 

But just as fast as the pleasure washes over you, it shifts – the sharp edge turning from sweet to searing, the sensation that once held you captive now pressing painfully against every nerve.

“Alexia, red, red, red,” you gasp out, voice faint but urgent. She stops instantly, her entire body stilling above you, her breath a sharp intake as she processes the word. She freezes, her lips still pressed to your neck, her hips halted, her breathing heavy as she lets you both catch up, her chest rising and falling in time with yours.

Then, softly, she whispers, “Amor?” Her voice is gentle, a hint of unease beneath the concern. “I’m going to pull out, okay?”

You manage a faint nod, the lingering pleasure melting away as she withdraws carefully, her hand gentle on your stomach, stroking softly as she helps you come down. The bed shifts, the quiet rustling of fabric filling the silence as she slips out of the harness, discarding it with little thought as she watches you with concern.

Exhausted, you roll onto your stomach, burying your face in the pillow. The scent of her skin lingers there, familiar and comforting, and you let yourself breathe, willing your body to relax as the ache fades.

In moments, she’s beside you again, settling on the bed and pulling you close. Her hand finds your face, her thumb wiping away a tear that’s slipped free. She’s quiet, waiting until you’re ready to meet her gaze, and when you do, her expression softens, a tender worry in her eyes.

“Are you okay, mi amor?” Her voice is soft, almost pained. “Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, your voice so faint, almost uncertain, feeling the exhaustion seep into every word. “I just need a moment.”

She nods, her face relaxing with a soft sigh, “No rush, mi amor,” she says, her arms encircling you as she guides you on top of her body. Her fingers trail softly across your back, drawing gentle, soothing patterns that steady you, and her lips press delicate kisses to your forehead. 

You stay on top of her for a while, savouring the warmth of her body beneath you, her skin like silk under your fingertips. Your cheeks feel flushed, a faint embarrassment creeping in. It’s not the kind that feels shameful, but it’s enough to make you aware of just how exposed you feel. Admitting you needed to stop, even to her, feels vulnerable, like peeling back an extra layer of yourself and laying it bare for her to see. But you know she’d never judge you; she understands more than anyone. Yet, lying here, pressed against her, it’s impossible to ignore the gentle ache in your chest.

Her chest rises in a deep, slow breath beneath you, and the motion stirs you from the peaceful fog you’d nearly drifted into. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the dim light of the room. Her fingers, once tracing soft, soothing circles along your back, now lie still, her hand resting gently against you. Her lips are pressed firmly to your forehead, her breath soft against your skin. You feel her inhale, breathing you in as if memorising the moment, and it fills you with a strange, quiet peace. Your fingers draw a soft circle against her chest before you find your voice.

“Can we go shower?” The words come out rough, your voice betraying how tired and raw you feel. 

“Of course,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss before she carefully shifts, guiding both of you upright. You slide off her lap as she sits, her hands steady on you, her gaze tender. When she looks at you, her eyes seem to cradle you, holding you in that soft gaze that always undoes you. She leans forwards, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s gentle and sweet, as if speaking the words she doesn’t need to say. When she pulls away and rises to her feet, she reaches a hand towards you.

She pauses when you don’t immediately move, a faint smile playing at her lips. With a gentle shake of her head, she steps closer. “Come on, I will carry you,” she says softly, amusement and love mingling in her tone.

A shy smile tugs at your lips as you scoot to the edge of the bed, letting her arms slip around you. She lifts you with such ease that you cling to her, feeling the need to be close. You nestle against her, and she seems to sense your desire to be held, pulling you even closer, her lips brushing soft kisses against your neck and shoulder as she carries you to the bathroom.

She sets you down on the cool countertop, and you watch as she moves to turn on the shower, the steam slowly beginning to fill the room. When she returns to you, her palms rest on your thighs, her fingers drawing soft trails along your skin. Her gaze is thoughtful, her eyes tracing over your face with an intensity that makes you wonder what she’s searching for. But her touch, her closeness, is reassuring, reminding you of the trust that exists between you, even in this moment of unfamiliar vulnerability.

Neither of you has ever had to use the safe word before, and you both feel the weight of it, unspoken but there. You know it isn’t her fault – she hadn’t meant to push you past what you were comfortable with. And she did exactly what she should have, stopping the moment you uttered the word, letting the trust between you remain intact. You take a steady breath, grateful for her presence, for how deeply you trust her, and for her respect towards you and your boundaries.

She blinks a few times, her gaze softening as she seems to pull herself back into the present. Her fingers tighten around your thighs for a moment before she nods towards the shower. You give her a look that says enough, and she laughs softly, stepping forwards to help you down.

She slips into the shower first, letting the water run over her as she tilts her head back, closing her eyes in peaceful surrender to the warmth. “Amor, quick, it is lonely without you,” she calls, her voice carrying through the gentle rush of water.

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts, and slowly step into the shower. Your limbs feel heavy, the emotional exhaustion mingling with the physical, but she immediately pulls you close, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. She reaches for the shampoo, her hands finding their way into your hair, fingers working with such tenderness it nearly takes your breath away. Each touch feels purposeful, soft and attentive, as she washes away the remnants of the night, the lingering weight of the moment. She treats you with a gentleness that makes you feel fragile but safe, a softness that assures you she’ll handle every part of you with care.

When the soap is rinsed away, and you’re both just standing there under the cooling water, she wraps her arms around you from behind, her head resting on your shoulder. You let your hands fall over her forearms, anchoring her close, the moment both grounding and comforting.

“I’m sorry for making you stop,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of water. “I know you were enjoying it.”

She frowns, her face immediately softening as she turns you around, pulling you closer. Your arms instinctively wrap around her shoulders as hers tighten around your waist.

“No, you did exactly what you should’ve done. Thank you for trusting me,” she says, her voice tender, her eyes filled with sincerity that warms you from the inside.

You look down, feeling a flicker of embarrassment you can’t quite name. “Thank you for stopping,” you whisper, a touch of shyness creeping into your tone.

She lifts your chin gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as she meets your gaze. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed, I promise. I am happy you told me to stop. Otherwise, I would’ve hurt you more, sí?”

You nod, your heart easing under her soft reassurance. She gives you a tender smile before leaning in to press her lips to yours, the kiss unhurried and filled with a quiet love.

You stay like that, bodies tangled in soft kisses and gentle caresses, each touch a wordless promise. They never evolve into anything more, remaining innocent and comforting. In that restraint, you feel a respect and care from her that makes your heart ache in the best way. She’s understanding, patient, and everything you need in this moment. It’s one of the many reasons you love her.

As the water finally begins to cool, she shivers and quickly reaches to turn it off, both of you chuckling softly. She’s quick to wrap you in a towel, drying you off with the same care, and once she’s dressed, she helps you into something comfortable before guiding you back to bed.

Under the soft covers, she pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you with gentle insistence. Her fingers trace light patterns along your back, and she whispers soft, comforting words, each one slowly lulling you to peace. She brings a steady sense of tranquility as she lays against you, and as your eyes grow heavy, you feel nothing but safe, loved, and secure in her embrace. She follows you into sleep not long after, holding you close through the night.

[clockwayswrites]

Uncle John Part 2

masterpost

Even though Bruce knew what he was opening the door to, it was still almost startling to see John Constantine shielding two teenagers on the other side. The oldest was a redhead, though Bruce could only tell that from the fierce eyebrows. The hair of both teens had been shaved so close to the scalp that it was basically nonexistent. From what little Bruce could see of the second, behind the protective forms of John and the red head, the second teen’s head was also bandaged from what little Bruce could see under the hood of the thick sweater.

Whatever they had been through was clearly no small matter.

“Who’s all here?” John asked as he entered, looking around the foyer as he slunk into the room.

The kids stayed close to his back.

“Just Alfred and Tim. Alfred is in the kitchen and Tim is up in his room, though he was excited to know that there would be other teens visiting,” Bruce said, keeping his personage open and calm.

Excited was at least an honest enough word for Tim’s curiosity that Bruce had tone his bet to tamper. It didn’t seem the time to pry and Bruce was sure to learn far more as he set up the new identities.

John’s frown said he knew exactly what excited meant for Tim.

“He can help us instead if you’d rather,” Bruce offered to keep the peace, “but I thought that the kids might enough just playing some video games and enjoying Alfred’s snacks while we worked.”

“Stop that,” John said.

“Stop what?” Bruce said, blinking guilelessly.”

“Making fuck’n sense.”

The kid in the hood muffled a laugh into the thick fabric. The sound made Bruce smile. It wasn’t so very bad if they could still laugh. It meant that there was still hope.

“Tim is my current foster,” Bruce said, as that was the easiest way to explain things. “I would guess he’s around your ages. And I’m Bruce, a friend of John’s.”

John snorted. “He comes off as a rich playboy, but he’s one of the good ones, if you’ll believe that.”

“Thanks for that rousing endorsement,” Bruce said dryly.

John just grinned back, his smile a little more teeth than normal.

“I’m Danny,” the one in the hood said, still mostly hidden behind the redhead. The voice was scratchy, like it have been overused recently. The fingers that clung to the too large flannel shirt the redhead wore were covered in bandages. “This is my sister Jazz.”

Jazz regarded him with frozen blue eyes. “If you do anything to hurt him, I will find some way to hurt you worse.”

“That’s fair,” Bruce said calmly. “All I want to do is what John asked me to: which is to make you new identities so that you will be safe. Well, I would also hope that you both could relax some and enjoy some of Alfred’s cooking. His cookies especially are something amazing.”

Jazz searched his gaze for a moment longer before almost reluctantly nodding.

“Would you be alright with Tim joining you two?” Bruce asked.

Jazz glanced back at Danny before nodding again.

“Let me show you to the media room then,” Bruce said and started leading the group that way. He kept up idle chatter about some of the games he knew that Tim had been playing just to fill the silence and make everything seem less threatening.

It was still hard to speak of Tim like a son, but easier than it had been when Bruce had been the very broken and irrational man Tim had first come to. If Gotham’s spirit hadn’t thrown a fit, if Constantine hadn’t gotten involved… Bruce hated to think how things might have continued. Bruce hated to think what sort of mentor and guardian he might have been to the boy.

It was hard, but it was better like this.

Bruce opened the door to the media room with a smile. “Make yourself a home. I’ll send Tim down and either he’ll bring snacks with him or Alfred, a demure British man who isn’t a serous as he seems, will bring them in.”

“Right, thanks,” Jazz said and pulled her brother inside with her. She closed the door on them.

Bruce looked at Constantine who rubbed calloused hands over his face.

“Yeah, mate, it’s… it’s rough.”

Bruce reached out and clasped his shoulder in commiseration.

---

AN: This was still stuck in my head so have some more! I'm thinking end game Danny/Jason, because it's me, and Jazz/Steph because Steph deserves to be a disaster bi with her own fierce, magic user redhead.

Obvious canon divergence due to the added ghostliness.

[jjenthusee]

Our Love

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: something a lil mushy because I made a coffee to soothe my head from a couple drinks last night and i got inspiration HAHA nothing like some good fluff to start my morning ENJOY :) comment if your comfortable, please let me know if you enjoyed my silly words <3💐

Summary: It was a no sleep kind of night, but Jason being right next to you made sleep feel a little less important.

Tags: ✨FLUFF✨

Word Count: 1k

“I’m so tired that I can’t fall asleep.” You groaned into the pillow. Aches and sleepy eyes finally relaxing as you crawled into bed for the night, pulling the blanket over your body, morphing yourself into soft cushions.

You had all you needed to get a good night’s rest. A pillow with the perfect softness, comfortable pajamas, your teeth brushed, and your partner radiating a nice and relaxing warmth next to you.

But you only laid there, closing your eyelids trying to mimic sleep and unsuccessful in tricking your body.

“Welcome to the club.” Jason slightly chuckled as he laid in the spot next to you, the bed dipping at the two of you.

He laid on his stomach, arms laid beside his pillow with his head facing you. The blanket kicked aside, weaving between his legs from his movement.

You lazily reached your arm out and rubbed your fingers through his hair. Feeling the strands, swirling the white pieces to make it stick forward towards you. You smiled when you continued to section off different part of his head. By the time you were satisfied, the strands were going in every direction.

You listened to Jason hum while you played hair stylist, making mindless, unintentional movements, but Jason appreciated the touch, easing him into relaxation.

This time with intention, you slowly made your way down to rubbing his temples, physically making Jason melt into the mattress. The bits of tension in his shoulders easing.

Everything felt so perfect in the little world you both had. Fighting no night of sleep because it didn’t come easy tonight, but like the perfect person Jason was, you were in this together, soaking in each other’s presence at the fact that you didn’t have to face this alone.

Your fingers made its way to his cheekbones, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers into the bone. Using your thumb to rub his eyebrow, tracing the direction of the hair before touching the sensitive skin underneath his eyes.

The slightly darker skin, affected by months of no peaceful sleep. Only when he was so exhausted that his body would shut down for a moment, but it wasn’t rejuvenating, more akin to a reboot than a rest.

You analyzed his eye bags, letting a little bit of sadness seep into your own skin. Trying to soak up any of his struggles through the skin contact.

“We can’t sleep, but it just means I get more time with you.” You admitted, not fully realizing the cheesy line you said aloud.

“So romantic.” Jason smiled and your palm molded to the lift of his cheek. He kept his eyes closed, but the clear enjoyment from the skin-to-skin contact was felt in the way he was so content.

He was always a very patient man, allowing you to receive and offer the physical contact he didn’t give to others, but the way he didn’t flinch at even the smallest touch from you was bittersweet.

If he couldn’t sleep tonight, the least you wanted to do was get him to relax.

So, you continued to caress his face. Tracing over soft and textured skin. Feeling the slight overgrown stubble growing onto his jaw.

Jason’s breaths were even, letting you do whatever to his body. Trusting you enough to keep his eyes closed as you roamed his face.

“What should we eat for breakfast?” You asked him, your fingers gently touching the edge of his lips, tracing a healed over scar.

Memories came back to you, of you sitting in the rain of a back alley. As you felt your body freeze over looking at Jason covered head to toe in soot and a mixture of his and another’s blood, only the drops of rain cleaning tiny bits of his skin from the damaging night.

You tried to reach your hand out to touch him, to see if that really was the Jason you shared so many memories with. You remember that your hand shook so badly that you couldn’t even touch the gash on his lip profusely bleeding.

The flinch that ignited Jason out of his stilled state once you did manage to touch the sensitive skin for a moment.

“I’m thinking we could pick up something.” Jason suggested, interrupting your thoughts, slightly moving his head toward the hand that stopped moving while you stayed silent. “I remember you talking about the spot down the street. You must be craving it because you mentioned it every time we passed it.”

You continued your rubs again, pushing back harsh memories and resurfacing back to reality.

“We haven’t been there in a while. I wonder if the owner remembers us.” You used your thumb to trace Jason’s nose. The slight bump was no doubt from a previous fist fight gone wrong and it must’ve really hurt.

“We went there probably three times a week, we even have a photo on his wall.” Jason warmly laughed. “He might buy us a ‘Welcome Home’ cake if we go back.”

Jason opened his eyes, his eyelashes moving from his cheek to fully see you. A kind, childish sparkle was in the centers of his eyes. It brought another smile to your face.

“I wouldn’t mind cake for breakfast.” You let your hand travel down to his jaw, to the back of his neck.

You felt the overgrown hair as Jason also reached out to rub at your side.

A subtle ticklish feeling was making you want to flee from the funny feeling, but also refrain from breaking contact. Jason played at this motion by continuing to run his fingers into the fabric of your clothes, but once he was satisfied in making you slightly squirm, he let his hand rest on you.

“Breakfast cake it is.” Jason spoke into the relaxing air, tracing your face with his eyes. Making longer glances at his favorite features, knowing every detail.

“I can’t wait.” You looked back at him, seeing the messy hair you styled and his love-struck tender gaze. How his cheek slightly smushed from laying on the pillow, his scar that crushed your soul, and the gaze you would move Gotham for.

[traegorn]

Oh boy, here's a doozy.

Things have shifted far enough that Trump/Vance is actually more left than the alleged left

This is easily verified as untrue, but let's see what ridiculous points you try to use to back it.

what with their aims of ending war in Ukraine (thus derailing the current gravy train the military-industrial complex is riding)

Their solution to "end the war in Ukraine" is to withdraw aid and allow Russia to invade. It's literally pro-Genocide. So we're already starting out with the dumbest take possible. Not looking good for you.

introducing tariffs against China and, in time other popular outsourcing havens to bring manufacturing home (because of both security issues and the fact that an economy comprised of unskilled labour service jobs is going to generate anything but poverty in an economic race to the bottom as your domestic consumption dies) *and* he pinned the blame correctly on the bankers and international corporations for a lot of fuckery that is afoot, rather than the usual Republican rhetoric about pesky neo-marxists.

Tariffs are just going to make things more expensive for the working class and no one else. That manufacturing isn't coming home. It'll just move to countries other than China where it's still more profitable for major corporations and the supply chain.

Look, I can break this down further, but it's clear we're dealing with someone who has fallen down right wing talking points so badly that any discussion is useless. They think the GOP, the party where folks want to remove bodily autonomy and are mad about women voting, is somehow "left."

Whether you agree with me or not, if you believe a word this person says, I don't know how to talk to you.

I've said this before, but no one moves left in the general election. When a block of voters says they're not going to vote for their candidate, Democrats tend to believe them. So they decide to go court the people who they think will vote for them. That's why you've seen the Harris campaign trying to court moderate Republicans who might be iffy on voting for Trump a third time.

Leftists don't win by allowing extreme right wing candidates to win the White House. Instead you keep pressuring Democrats during their term and it works. Like Biden is continuing to work on forgiving student debt even though he doesn't have an election ahead of him. Because they know that what he does reflects on the future of the party. To really move the party left you need to focus on local and state based races -- get involved with your school board, city council, and state level governments. Get leftist candidates to run, and get them into office. That's how you drag a party over politically, and how you reform it. It's also how you move the national political discussion towards your cause.

We know it works because that's exactly what the Republicans have been doing for 50 years.

Voting doesn't end this game, it's the start of it.

And don't listen to weirdos who try to tell you Donald "Finish the Job" Trump and JD "Incel Couchfucker" Vance are somehow leftist.

This is the thing with the "I won't vote for Harris" supposed leftists.

None of them will tell you how allowing Trump to be elected helps.

Because they don't have an answer.

Because they don't really care about anything other than how they personally feel.

Actual leftism involves making pragmatic moves. The public will for revolution doesn't exist, and we live in a two party system. If you want to fight that system, great. There are things like ranked choice voting and the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact we need to be fighting for. But those are fights that have to happen year round, at the state level, and not just in an election year.

And in the meanwhile, you vote defensively and strategically, in an attempt to save as many people as possible.

Saying you aren't voting for Harris isn't taking a stand against genocide. It's putting your head in the sand and admitting you care more about your own comfort than making a difference in the world.

Why aren't you getting involved in your local politics? Why aren't you running leftist candidates at a local level, so you can move them up in the system and eventually move the political discussion left. You want to know why politics have moved right? It's because the right wing has been doing that for decades.

Your refusal to participate won't save a single life.

It only means you're abandoning everyone else.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

AGATHA & RIO NSFW ALPHABET

(afab reader, female implied, poly relationship/throuple with them and reader, im disregarding that we can’t kiss rio without dying)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

after sex they would both be so soft! depending on the mood both of them can be into pretty rough sex and in general i think sex is very intense for them not just physically but mentally as well, so afterwards they become quite gentle and sentimentally inclined. they're both quick to check on and cater to each other's and your needs, and expect that out of you as well. the time all of you spend together once you're all exhausted and grounded in each other becomes an act of quality time and showing affection through caring for each other. i feel you could get into some deeper discussions with them as well, which you might not usually have the time or focus for otherwise.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

rio loves agatha's neck and shoulders. she likes to run her knife down her neck and her hands are always finding agatha's shoulders to clutch when she's riding her thigh. OH and we know rio loves playing with agatha's hair as well, not in a sexual context but just in general.

agatha loves rio's. she. she loves her boobs man idk someone get this woman the biggest prode flag you've ever seen and scribble down BOOBS on it in sharpie. or whatever.

their favorite thing about you would be your legs, your arms your back your everything. they want every part of you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

rio loves to make you taste yourself after she's finished eating you out. it's validation for her, a trophy and a way of rubbing in the fact that she just made you finish with her tongue.

agatha loves to see your face covered in her cum after riding your face. she wants to make a mess of you, claim you as hers in the way your chin glistens with her cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

on the witches road, they MAY have considered each fucking you during a trial and seeing who could make you come the fastest, obviously very funny time limit bc if you don’t complete the trial then u die I mean what who said that!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

they’re both experienced, you’d get good at eating pussy after being around for centuries I would hope.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

when you’re trying to eat one of them out while the other is fucking you with her strap!!! agatha particularly loves making you and rio take her strap, and if you’re in a rough mood degradation kink mood then she loves to bully you, tease you, shame you for being so needy for her and desperate for her to fuck you. she likes to watch you ride it, but really she just wants to lay you down and make you come hard.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

they have to have some level of seriousness to actually like. get off. and with them like I mentioned before sometimes they will get really into the emotionally intimate and romantic aspect of sex, but with them nothing can stay serious for too long so there will be a bit of humor, a few mean jokes, anything to break the tension. if you don’t want that they’ll try to dial it back, but if you do then even better.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

with rio being death and agatha being a witch i dont think either of them have the most time to be meticulously shaving or waxing or whatever hair removal they would prefer. agatha would care more than rio, and i think they would both try to keep up with it to some extent, but time gets in the way. as for you they don't mind whatever you prefer to do (shaving, waxing, not doing anything in the way of hair removal) with yourself as long as you are comfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

sex with rio and agatha can either be sex just to fuck or sex to be romantic. it depends on the mood, it depends on what has turned them on, it depends on the day. but sex for them can be a form of intimacy — neither of them are the best at expressing their feelings with words, and while sex should not take the place of verbal communication, it definitely helps.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can’t see them masturbating as much in a relationship, they’d both just prefer to fuck, but in general I think agatha would masturbate more often than rio?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

do I even have to say knife kink??? knife kink. we all know knife kink. maybe even splurge a little and say blood kink.

bondage!!! they would be really into tying you up (and making a competition out of you somehow, a power struggle), and I can also see rio being so proud of herself if she got agatha to agree to let rio tie her up.

praise and degradation! of course. they’ll pick different sides, one night rio will be praising you and agatha degrading and then the next time it will switch. they crave both, and they want the element of surprise for you when you don’t know what you’re going to get from either of them.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ideally at home in the bedroom but tbh you’ve all probably fucked everywhere including the witches road.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

if you’re a witch, they would get turned on by watching you do whatever magic you specialize in — they like seeing you with power, and they like taking it for themselves. they want to see that you’re powerful and then remind themselves that you belong to them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything you say no to they’re throwing away the idea of, but in general they would be averse to sharing you with anyone else.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

rio would prefer giving, and agatha would prefer receiving. rio wants you and agatha coming on her tongue, wants to be what gives you those highs. agatha wants to completely let go of herself in your touch, forget the rest of the world exists for a little while because all that’s important is how pretty you look between her thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends!!! if it’s a more emotionally intimate and romance geared night they’re more slow and sensual, and otherwise it’s fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickies anywhere and everywhere and whenever. as long as you’re in a place relatively safe from being discovered, the two of them are down for quickies. i can see them trying to test the limits of where they can and can’t fuck without being discovered too, so lots of being pulled into public restrooms or dragged off into the woods on the witches road or into an alley or whatever little places you can find.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

they will probably be down to experiment with whatever you bring up within reason, with both of them having been around for centuries they’ve seen it all, and it will take a lot to surprise them when it comes to testing things out.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

they can go for a relatively long time, rio can last longer than agatha but they go until they’re completely exhausted, there’s no such thing as casual sex for them unless you’re in public and it has to be a quickie somewhere.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

apart from vibrators and straps I can’t see them being incredibly into toys, they would much rather just go hands mouth all the essentials.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

an obscene amount it’s not even funny these women would tease you until you’re in tears and then would do it some more. it’s a game to them, like everything is.

I can see them reaaaally being into edging you and overstimulating you as a side note, rio wants to edge you and agatha wants to overstimulate.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

they’re both relatively vocal but not necessarily loud. agatha would be louder than rio, she loses every bit of composure when you’re fucking her and rio’s main goal specifically is to pull any moans, whines, anything she can get from agatha while fucking her. rio herself is a bit quieter, i can see her more prone to gasps and low moans — her tells would be more through body language, nails digging into your skin or her grip on you getting tighter.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I’ve posted about this somewhere before but agatha with a mommy kink calling rio mommy. you agree.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

idk about agatha but I need to see rio in a black lingerie set. bah!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

relatively high??? not super crazy but we all feel the level of longing for lesbian sex right.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it depends, if it’s in the morning or afternoon they probably won’t. if it’s nighttime then not immediately, but not incredibly long after. in general they get some water take a shower make some food (bc i can see rio cooking up a three million course meal for the three of you after sex she gets hungry). they want to make sure you’re doing alright and just bask in the domestic bliss of aftercare before they give in to sleep.

[puckinghischier]

i’d like this quinn. what do you think, alli?.. who you picking?

— ✶ —

apologies i have a slight sabrina carpenter obsession. and, this has been in my head floating around for 3 days so i thought i’d share. ₊˚⊹

oh i’m 100% picking quinn are you kidding me? he’s such a munch it’s not even funny

anytime, anywhere, for any reason. and you know what…this has given me a thot

because he wouldn’t be able to wait, ever. once he’s got the craving, he’s dragging you to the nearest empty room, secluded corner, bathroom, literally anywhere he can just to get his fix. it doesn’t matter who’s around or what’s going on. once he thinks about it, he’s insatiable.

like when he has everyone over at the lake house for a backyard barbecue, and he sees you sitting all pretty and talking to his brothers while he tends to the grill. you’re still wearing your bathing suit from earlier, top half covered in one of his swim shirts. the sight is enough to bring him to his knees. the tight material clinging to your body, causing your colorful top to peek through the light material.

he forces himself to look away and focus on the task at hand, knowing it’ll just be a couple more hours before he has you all to himself. when he hears you squeal, however, his attention snaps back to where you were just sitting. instead of seeing you perched on the arm of one of the white adirondacks, he sees you slung over jack’s shoulder. and suddenly a couple of hours is entirely too long to wait when he sees your ass in the air on full display, his shirt doing nothing to cover your modesty.

“jack! put her down! food’s almost done!” he yells out, trying to keep his voice even as he watches jack place you gently on the ground. “y/n, baby, come help me grab some dishes for all this,” he calls out next, turning the grill on the lowest setting he can, watching you steady yourself before jogging towards him.

he holds the sliding glass door open for you, slipping in right behind you and subtly flipping the lever to lock it.

“how many plates do you need?” you ask him, back turned as you open the cabinet to grab what he asked for, oblivious to his hungry stare.

he walks up and grabs your waist, spinning you around to face him so fast you’re almost dizzy.

“oh, i didn’t need you to grab plates,” he tells you, staring down at you with dark eyes. “just wanted to get you alone for a minute. driving me crazy out there in this, you know that?” he toys with the hem of his shirt on your body.

“quinn, everyone’s out there waiting on dinner,” you whisper as you feel his hand trail lower, toying with the bow tied on your thin bikini bottoms.

“guess i gotta be quick then, don’t i? need my appetizer first,” he whispers back to you, bringing his face dangerously close to yours, but never making contact.

you gasp when he brings both hands behind your warm thighs, picking you up while your hands fly to his shoulders and legs wrap around his torso, ensuring you don’t fall.

he doesn’t say a word as he walks you over to the large living room, stopping right in front of the couch where a large rug is laid out. you’ve always told him how much you love this rug, wanting one just as soft in your own shared apartment back in vancouver.

dropping to his knees, he gently lays you down on the plush surface. you finally unlatch your legs from his body, letting them rest on the floor on either side of his bent knees.

“gotta be quiet, gonna be quick. you ready?” he asks you, trailing a finger over your clothed clit.

“mhmmm” you hum out, squirming to try and increase the friction from his finger.

he takes the small bow he was playing with earlier and pulls the string, the entire knot falling apart in one go. he leaves the other side tied, just folding the material to the side to expose your glistening pussy.

“god, this was too easy. you’re already so soaked. you think about this as much as i do, huh?” he rasps out, flattening out his body into position, taking in your smell.

you aren’t given the chance to respond. as soon as he was level with your core, he’s attacking it like a man starved. you cry out at the sensation.

“shhhh, told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” his words vibrate against you, making you whimper.

he moves his tongue in all the right ways, swirling and sucking at a deadly pace. he’s always known exactly what sends you over the edge. he’s relentless, but never sloppy or rushed.

needing to ground yourself to something, you fist his hair, driving his face further into you.

the sound that comes out of him is animalistic, loving nothing more than to suffocate between your folds. he’s gripping your ass, pulling you as close to him as he can get while still being able to somewhat breathe.

your soft whispers of his name only spur him on, surprising you when he gives your clit a small nip. your entire body jolts at the sensation. you sit up slightly, mouth open but no sound coming out.

“liked that, huh? like it when i take a bite of my favorite snack?” quinn smirks as he looks up at the shocked look on your face. his own is glistening, lips swollen and red, and you nearly cum right then and there.

he dives right back in, adjusting himself slightly lower. you fall back onto the plush rug with a soft thud when you feel his tongue enter you.

he feels you clench around the muscle, devouring every ounce of your arousal. absolutely nothing in this world compares to your taste, he thinks to himself. if he could bottle you up and sprinkle you on every meal he ever eats, he would. actually, forget real food, this is what he wants for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“god, q, don’t stop. so close,” you whine. he can feel you flutter around his tongue, bringing his hand up to pinch at your bundle of nerves.

the feeling causes you to spasm, not even knowing how his fingers went straight to your clit considering his eyes are closed as he focuses on driving his tongue in and out of you.

he can feel the second you hit your release, stilling his tongue inside of you to lap up every drop of satisfaction that oozes out of you.

your legs are shaking uncontrollably, your mouth frozen in a silent ‘o’, wanting nothing more than to scream out, but stunned to silence with how hard your orgasm hit you.

quinn doesn’t stop his slurping and sucking until you’re pulling away at the sensitivity of it. he detaches himself from your spent cunt with a loud smack, bringing his body to hover above yours.

your heavy eyes look up at him, chest heaving while you try to catch your breath. “god, you’re an amazing cook, you know that?” he smirks down at your blissed out expression.

“what?” you sigh out, confused if you heard him right, considering the ringing in your ears.

“you’re a phenomenal cook. always make the best meals for me. know just what i’m craving every time,” he repeats himself, reaching a finger down to run through your sensitive folds, collecting more of your juices. “makes me want seconds every time,” he says, bringing the digit up to his mouth and sucking it clean, groaning like it’s a delicacy.

you whine, shaking your head. you’re entirely too sensitive right now, teetering on the edge of discomfort and pleasure.

“oh, don’t worry sweet girl, not right now. gotta go make sure everyone gets their dinner first,” he chuckles, re-tying the knot he un-tied only minutes prior.

he grabs your hands and gently brings you to a sitting position, then helps you stand.

“can’t wait for my dessert later, though,” he whispers in your ear before giving you a kiss to the temple, making sure you’re steady before walking away with a knowing grin.

[daisymbin]

more blackmail material? - choi seungcheol

read pt1 first: look at me!

warnings: none i think?

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader (use of she)

genre: friends to lovers~

wc: 2.2k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

you wake up to the familiar weight of seungcheol’s hand clutching yours tightly; that being the only part of your body that feels comfy. your back hurts & your legs are numb. you had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor by the bed, holding his hand. you look over to him, his brows furrow slightly as he mumbles something intangible as you tried to escape his grasp, and your heart squeezes at the sight. for a moment, you wonder what he’s dreaming about, his expression so peaceful yet intense.

his hair tousled and his expression adorable. a small smile tugs at your lips as you take in the sight of him, feeling an overwhelming sense of affection.

you gently try to pry his hand on yours, but that was proven difficult when seungcheol unconsciously tightens his hold. after a good 10 minutes of trying, you managed to get him to let go, careful not to wake him, and make your way to the kitchen. the apartment is still, save for the soft sounds of the world outside waking up. as you prepare a light breakfast, your mind races with thoughts of what to say when seungcheol wakes up. would he remember anything? would he regret his words?

your heart races at the thought. just as you’re pouring a glass of apple juice, the soft sound of shuffling interrupts your thoughts. you turn to see seungcheol standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed and slightly disheveled, his hair in all sorts of direction but with a small smile on his face that sends a flutter through your chest.

“morning,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“morning,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, despite the weight of what’s unsaid hanging in the air.

he rubs his eyes, stepping further into the kitchen. “what time is it?”

“almost 11,” you tell him, watching as he yawns and stretches, the sight somehow both adorable and mesmerizing.

“11?” he echoes, clearly surprised. “how did I sleep so long?”

you chuckle softly, knowing the answer. “you were pretty tired from all that dancing and… other activities last night.”

the blush creeping across his cheeks is immediate, and he glances down at the floor, avoiding your gaze. “did I… say anything embarrassing?”

you hesitate, a wave of uncertainty & disappointment washing over you. you see the sincerity in his eyes, and despite the urge to tell him the truth, you weren't sure if its something he had meant to let out, or if he even meant it. maybe he was just…drunk? or maybe he'll come to remember it in a few hours? “no, not really,” you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips.

he seems to relax at your words, though a shadow of confusion still lingers in his expression. “thank god. I was worried I made a fool of myself or said something I shouldn't have.”

just then, his phone buzzes loudly on the table, interrupting the moment. he glances at it, his brow furrowing. “it’s jihoon. he wants me to come help with something.”

“now?” you ask, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the thought of losing this moment.

“yeah, I should probably go,” he says, though he seems reluctant to leave. “but I’ll text you later, okay?”

“sure,” you reply, trying to hide your disappointment. “just…be safe. drink lots of water, you need it.”

“i will.” he promises, a soft smile on his lips before he grabs his things and heads out the door.

as soon as he’s gone, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. what now? you wonder, glancing at your phone and deciding to take a break from it all. you text seungkwan to see if he wants to grab brunch.

when you meet seungkwan at your favorite café, he immediately senses something is off. “so, what happened after you sent seungcheol home?” he asks, leaning in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “did anything…happen last night? did you guys talk it out this morning?”

you shake your head, stirring your latte absently with a sigh. “he doesn’t remember anything, he asked if he said anything stupid last night & I just told him no.”

“he doesn’t remember?” seungkwan looks flabbergasted. “are you serious?”

“sadly, yeah.” you reply, feeling a bit defeated. “I thought he would, but I guess not.”

“that’s not good,” seungkwan muttered softly, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “shall we have have some cake? the red velvet from here is really good, i’ll go order one.”

before you can even answer him, seungkwan already got up, he subtly pulls out his phone and steps away. “just a sec, I’ll be right back,” he says, heading towards the counter of the café.

“since when did you like red velvet?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, but he waves you off with a laugh. “oh, you know.. just the one they have here is good so….” he replies. you can sense he’s hiding something but you dont ask

—

jeonghan wastes no time. after receiving a few messages from an exasperated seungkwan, he heads straight to jihoon's place, excitement & mischief pulsing through him. he arrives, knocking briskly on the door until jihoon opens it, looking surprised to see him.

“jeonghan? what’s up?” jihoon asks, stepping aside to let him in.

“where’s seungcheol?” jeonghan demands, scanning the room until he spots him lounging on the couch, looking rather confused.

“he’s right here. what’s going on?” jihoon asks, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

jeonghan strides over to seungcheol, a teasing grin on his face. “shouldn’t you be taking your girlfriend, no, future mrs choi on a date right now? why are you here with jihoon?”

seungcheol blinks, utterly bewildered. “what are you talking about, jeonghan? I don’t-”

“you don’t what?” jeonghan cuts him off, pulling out his phone. “you don’t remember what you did last night? what you said?”

seungcheol’s expression shifts to confusion, and he rubs the back of his neck, trying to recall the events of the night. “what do you mean? did I do or say something embarrassing?”

with a smirk, jeonghan taps on the video he recorded the night before. he hadn't planned on pulling out his stored blackmail material so soon but thank god he recorded it.

as he hits play, seungcheol’s eyes widen, watching himself stand on the table whining about all the other boys you paid attention to instead of him, followed quickly by a tipsy grin plastered on his face as he confesses his undying love for you.

“what..what is this?” he exclaims, staring at the screen, the realization dawning on him.

“you confessing, you idiot,” jeonghan says, barely holding back laughter. “you were all mushy and everything!”

jihoon, who had been completely unaware of the events from the night before having stayed home, watches the video together, mouth agape. “wait, he really did that?”

“yoon jeonghan did you use A.I to fabricate this or something? there's no way I did that. I wouldn't….” seungcheol tries to push it onto jeonghan, trying to deny reality.

“really? you wouldn't? you think the chances of me using A.I is higher than you drunkardly confessing whilst standing on a table in a club?” jeonghan asked as he tried to hold back his laugher.

jihoon steps closer as he says, “honestly the A.I sounds more believable, you pull stupid pranks all the time, i wouldnt be surprised, but then again….if it's really A.I and it isn't real then thats kinda… nah. yoon jeonghan wouldnt joke about something like this. yup, looks real to me.” jihoon finishes as he pats seungcheol on his back.

jeonghan, seeing as seungcheol still doesn't believe him, pulls out his messaging app, opening his chat with seungkwan, “it's not A.I you idiots, who do you think i am? i love a good prank but this A.I shit is too much work, i dont have enough energy for that. here.” jeonghan then slides his phone over to seungcheol, messages from seungkwan earlier in its full glory.

roommate boo 🍊:

[12:17 PM] I can't believe that idiot can't remember what he did last night!!! hyung, do something!!!

[12:19 PM] I thought he lost his mind when he stood on that table crying over her last night BUT NO, NOW he's lost his mind! i thought some sense finally went into that head of his, how can he forget???

[12:22 PM] hyung!! do something! this isn't right and it's not fair to her! she looks so sad!!!!! show him that video you recorded last night!!!! 😡

“yup,” jeonghan says, enjoying seungcheol's mortification. “and now you can’t just let it slide. you need to talk to her and make this right. tell me, was she still in your apartment this morning?” he asked as he folded his arms. at a small nod of seungcheol’s head, jeonghan continued “that silly girl. I texted her to come down after putting you to bed, i even offered to send her home but she was worried about you and said she'd stay. how could you forget?”

seungcheol feels a rush of embarrassment & guilt flood through him as he stares at the screen which now shows jeonghan's text from you. “I can’t believe I did that,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “and I can't believe I forgot…did she..does she-”

“does she like you?” jeonghan finishes for him, “you're such an idiot. for someone who claims to be looking at the love of their life all the time, you sure are blind for not seeing how she looks at you just as much.” jeonghan says with a satisfied smile on his face. “you owe her a real date after that confession.”

“and an apology.” jihoon added.

“i thought she’d tell me if i’d done something like that, but she didn’t. maybe she’s just… sparing me from rejection.”

jeonghan scoffed. “please, she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky last night. she’s probably overthinking, just like you are.”

seungcheol lets out a sigh he didnt know he was holding, his resolve building as he processes everything. “I need to find her.” jihoon could only smirking at his friend’s flustered state.

—

after brainstorming with jeonghan and jihoon, seungcheol decided on a plan. he’d cook her favorite, miyeok guk (yall remember cooks coups? lmao) it wasn’t just for birthdays, after all, and he knew she’d appreciate the thought. jeonghan offered to help, though he teased relentlessly about how much was riding on this meal.

it was almost doomed when seungcheol managed to burn the soup, the kitchen filling with a slightly charred smell as he looked on in horror. jeonghan swooped in, shaking his head with an exasperated grin. “good thing i’m here,” he muttered, salvaging the meal with a few choice spices and a lot of patience.

once the miyeok guk was safely simmering, seungcheol added a few finishing touches around his apartment: candles with her favorite scent, a small bouquet of her favorite flowers, and warm lighting that made the whole room feel like a cozy haven.

finally, he texted you, saying he needed help with something. you arrived, clueless, expecting a favor and absolutely not prepared for the sight of him standing there, nerves showing slightly as he shifted from foot to foot.

before you could ask, he cleared his throat. “so… about last night…”

you froze, realizing he might remember. “last night?”

he gave a small, uncertain smile, looking at you with a soft intensity. “i know you didn’t say anything, but… jeonghan showed me the video. i just… i thought maybe you didn’t tell me because… maybe you don’t feel the same, and you were trying to save me from that.”

you stared at him, heart racing. “no, i… i thought you might regret it,” you admitted softly, glancing down. “i didn’t want to bring it up if… if it was something you didn’t mean.”

seungcheol stepped closer, reaching out to gently lift your chin so you’d meet his gaze. “i meant every word,” he murmured. “and this time, i want to say it sober; knowing exactly what i’m saying. i like you… so much. and if you’ll let me, i’d like to take you on a real date.”

a smile spread across your face as you let his words sink in. “then… i’d like that, too,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

the uncertainty melted from his expression, replaced by a soft warmth. reaching out, he took your hand in his, holding it as if it were something precious. he chuckled softly, still a little shy. “so, um… how about some miyeok guk? i might’ve had a bit of help from jeonghan, but it’s your favorite.” he refused to let you know about how he had actually burnt it & jeonghan had salvaged it. but little did he know, jeonghan had been recording his friend again when he was panicking & making a mess of the kitchen while whining, more blackmail material perhaps?

“i’d love that,” you replied, heart swelling at the gesture.

as you both sat down, laughing together over the slightly imperfect soup, you felt a contentment settle in, the kind that only came from being exactly where you were meant to be, with exactly the person you were meant to be with.

[sugawarassoulmate]

enemies to lovers!kita 🥲🥲 would be so obsessed w u 🥲🥲 and one certain fuck makes u realize because he keeps saying things that only men in Love would say 🥲🥲

he takes it all back post nut

enemies to lovers!kita is absolutely obsessed with reader and it's so !!!!!

words: 440

cw: fem!reader, jealousy, unprotected sex, minors dni

kita absolutely doesn't get jealous.

but he hasn’t stopped pestering you about the guy he caught you having lunch with at the cafe last week. it’s so annoying. it’s just some guy from class you met up with about a project. you didn’t think much about it—there wasn’t much to think about.

even kita’s unsure why it keeps replaying in his head. the two of you are exclusive, if you could even call it that. he doesn’t care if you sleep with another person (but you’re not) just like it’s none of your business if he does the same (but he doesn’t)

you’ve forgotten all about his annoying line of questions when it's a few days later and kita "somehow" ends up in your bed again.

he has you on top, a position you typically hate because he makes you do all the work but something seems different about him tonight.

kita loves nothing more than to see you beg for him, wanting you to admit that you need him to get yourself off but instead he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.

he's kneeling in the center of the bed with his back straight as he has you bouncing in his lap. it's too close for comfort, too intimate for the both of you.

but you're wrapping your legs around him anyway, somehow pulling him closer as his fingers tangle in your hair.

"aw, yer dripping all over me. ya like it when i manhandle ya, huh?" kita grunts. it's so unlike him to be talkative in bed but tonight he can't shut up.

“bet nobody else gets ya like this. just me, right?” he kisses you between his words. it’s sloppy, drool coating both your lips. “i can feel ya about to cum. go ahead, remind me how stupid i make ya."

you don't know what's more humiliating, the words coming out of his mouth or the effect it has on your body.

your toes curl when you finally cum on kita's cock, nearly missing the small praise leaving his lips as he feels you gush around him. "good girl, i knew ya could do it."

he doesn't give you a break but rather keeps you sitting on his cock when he finally spills his seed inside you. even then you're still on his lap, collapsed into his chest as he mumbles something about not wanting his cum to run out.

you don't pay much attention, though. if you did you'd probably question why the guy who claims to hate you is running his fingers up and down your back while you fall asleep against him.

©sugawarassoulmate 2024 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[juniperskye]

I Can’t Do This.

Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5605

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.

“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.

“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.

“Okay.”

With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.

--

“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.

“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.

You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.

“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”

--

“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.

“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”

“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.

“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”

“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.

“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”

“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”

“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”

“Fine.”

--

You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.

Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.

After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.

--

Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.

“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.

“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.

“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”

Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.

--

“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.

“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.

“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.

--

“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.

With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.

“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.

You sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.

“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”

“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.

“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”

“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”

--

“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.

You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.

“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.

The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.

“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.

“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.

“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.

“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”

“No sir.” You reassured.

“Good.”

--

Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.

Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.

Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.

“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.

“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”

“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.

“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.

Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.

“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”

You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.

In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.

“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.

“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.

“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.

“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.

--

“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”

“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.

“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.

“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”

“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.

“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”

“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.

You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?

“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.

You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.

“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”

“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”

Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.

It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.

--

A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.

“Hotch, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”

“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”

Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable around him and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.

“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”

“Yes.”  You sighed.

In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.

“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.

“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.

“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”

“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.

“Well…

--

“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.

“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.

“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.

“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.

“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.

It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.

“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.

“Not now!” Emilio growled.

“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.

Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.

Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.

“Yes sir.”

--

“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.

“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.

“I’m glad I did too.”

--

The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.

“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”

You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?

“I could do that.”

“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.

“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.

“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”

--

You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.

After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Oh, sure.” You agreed.

The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.

“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.

You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.

“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.

“I got it.” Hotch

Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.

You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.

--

“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.

You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.

“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.

“I’m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”

“I will.”

--

“…and I just stood there.”

“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.

“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.

“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.

“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”

“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”

“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”

--

The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.

Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.

The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.

“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.

“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”

Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.

“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”

“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.

“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.

“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.

“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”

“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.

Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.

“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.

“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.

“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.

“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.

As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.

As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.

“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.

--

“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.

“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”

Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.

“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.

You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.

“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.

“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.

Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.

That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.

--

“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”

“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.

--

You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.

“Hotch.”  You gasped.

“Y/n can we talk?”

You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.

“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.

“You were trying to protect me?”

“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”

“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”

“Please say that again.” He whispered.

“Aaron.”

He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.

“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”

Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

[blackynsupremacy]

RETURNING THE FAVOR

pairing: nicholas chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: you and your fiancé, nicholas, start to look at things in a new perspective after spending the whole day with your three-year-old nephew, ashton.

contains: lots of words, so. much. fluff., cuddling, kissing, playfulness, mention of death in the family, nicholas being the big sweetheart he is. you call your nephew by the nickname “bookie” pronounced like “pookie”, but with a b.

a/n: the club blurb with nicholas is in the drafts, it’s coming, but i was in a light fluffy mood! i need that man expeditiously.

taglist: @rosiestalez @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @ellethespaceunicorn @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @zombigrlll @paisholotus @tryingtograspctrl @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites

your older sister couldn’t thank you and nicholas enough as she handed off a backpack with all of the items necessary for caring for your nephew, ashton. she was making plans to do his hair and spend quality time with her son, but she got called in for an eight hour shift, so she didn’t hesitate to call you up to see if you and nicholas were available to babysit. you and nicholas enthusiastically agreed to take on the task of spending this time with ashton. fortunately, he was on a month long break before filming for his next project and this was your weekend off. a smile grew on both of your faces as you felt two tiny arms wrap around your legs. your beaming face looks down to meet ashton’s, who gazed up at you with those precious doe eyes and wide grin with his kinky afro of curls sticking up and around in different directions on his head.

“hi, ti-ti!” his soft high pitched voice made you and your sister simper as you bent down to gather your nephew within your arms.

“hey, bookie!” you greet him and turn him to nicholas who was already grinning as he greeted the boy before he reached his hands out to see if ashton wanted to give him a hug.

“hey, buddy! how’s my guy, huh?”

“uncle nic!” ashton jovially responded, quickly unraveling his miniature arms from around your neck to make grabby hands towards nicholas who didn’t hesitate to scoop him from your arms.

“here let me get this for you. we’ll leave you ladies alone. we’re gonna have a little snack until we get started. it’s always a pleasure to see you, s/n. we’ll be ready when you are, babe.”

nicholas said before placing a kiss on your cheek. he held the toddler on his side with one arm and like the gentleman he was, he took the backpack off your sister’s hands to which she graciously thanked him. he took his cue to exit to the kitchen while striking up a conversation with ashton about the snack options available and what he wanted. you and your sister smiled in their direction and turned to each other to resume your own conversation.

“girl, i can’t thank you enough for this. i hate that it had to be so last minute, but you know that i got—”

you interrupted your sister, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder with a small smile on your face.

“it’s okay, sis. you know that nic and i got you, through and through. life happened and we’re gonna help you as you keep going for your life and your family, so it’s no issue.”

she nods silently to receive your kind words and you both got a bit watery eyed and sniffled before composing yourselves.

“you’re right. i’m just trying to do what’s best for ashton, y/n. i swear when life hits me right one day, i’m gonna be able to return the favor for you and nicholas .” she gives you a cheeky grin and shoots a wink towards your way as the warm heat of embarrassment rise on your brown cheeks. you stood there stunned as she chuckled and shifted the purse on her shoulder.

“it’s okay, n/n. that’s a call that both you and nicholas have to make first, but know i got you like you got me when i had the munchkin.” you give each other one last hug, not without her giving you a few more key reminders regarding ashton’s care and the time she’ll be back before she heads to the driveway and exits in her vehicle.

you remembered three years ago when he was just born. you and nicholas had just started dating and he couldn’t help, but look at you with pride and joy at your excitement for your sister’s firstborn. ever since you two were little girls, you’d both dream of finding your respective prince charmings and happily growing a family of your own. boy, do dreams come true. ashton’s a little boy with the biggest personality. he’s silly, curious, intelligent, rambunctious, loved playing basketball, talking about his favorite superheroes, and not to mention the cutest little boy you’ve ever seen! he was a perfect mix of his parents, which was bittersweet considering the fact that his father had passed away from a car accident a year ago. it was an event that was truly life altering for your sister as she had to navigate life as a widow and a single parent. she had to pick up longer hours to keep the house, get counseling for her and ashton, and most of your family showed up before and during the funeral, but after a month, the phone calls and texts stopped coming. not you and nicholas, though. your older sister being the rock she is has supported you in happiness and heartbreak throughout childhood and adolescence, so it’s only right that you return that same love and kindness towards her and ashton, who you’ve sometimes seen as your own child.

you close the door and follow the same direction the boys walked to the kitchen. you stumble in to see a sight that almost puts your ovaries in danger of jumping your fiancé’s bones. his tall figure is standing in front of the counter, chatting it up and happily chopping up a food you can’t clearly see while ashton is clinging on to his leg like how a koala clings to a eucalyptus tree while gazing up at your giant of a fiancé with an attentive and expectant expression on his little face. you stare like a lovesick dope, watching nicholas laugh at something ashton said, putting away the knife he was using in a safe area away from the child and scooping the now diced assortment of fruit into two bowls. a smirk plays on your full lips as you cross your arms and lean up against the doorway of the kitchen before you speak.

“what are my favorite boys up to? it sounds like you’ve started the party without me.” you giggle when they simultaneously turn their heads in the direction of your voice. ashton taps nicholas’ leg and hold out his hands.

“uncle nic, can i bring ti-ti her snack?” he asks in the most polite manner.

nicholas nods, taking one bowl of fruit in his large hands and slowly squats to ashton’s level.

“of course, buddy! just remember to hold it with two hands and walk to ti-ti, okay?”

“mm-hmm!” his curls bounce as he nods before he does exactly what he’s told.you both beam as his little feet gingerly waddle from nicholas to you, two hands holding the bowl of fruit salad before he stops in front of you and beholds the snack for you to take.

“here you go, ti-ti. i picked the fruit you like and uncle nic cut it!” ashton cheerfully spoke, flashing his newly grown baby teeth.

your heart pounded in your chest before you squatted down to take the bowl. you ran your hand through his soft hair and kissed your nephew on his cheek.

“aw, thank you so much, bookie!” you playfully roll eyes hearing nicholas clear his throat in the background, signaling that he wants to hear praise from you as well.

“and you too, my love.” your brown eyes meet his briefly before your focus shifts back to your nephew.

“you did such a great job by listening and being careful. we’re so proud of you!”

you nod in approval and take a few bites of fruit. ashton bashfully giggles when he hears his uncle nicholas chime in with a whooping applause and jogs up to you both with another fruit bowl in his hand.

“alright, ash! you nailed it. bring it in, dude.” nicholas hypes up the smiling boy and brings his large fist down to ashton for his tiny one to bump against before he gives ashton the bowl for him to take. he’s already picking up an apple slice and biting into the fruit with glee.

“what do we say to uncle nic, bookie?” you question, peering at the eating toddler.

he swallows the food before answering,

“thank you!”

nicholas receives it with a small smile and gently runs his hand through ashton’s hair.

“you’re welcome, ash. whatever you need, you know that ti-ti and i will get it for you.”

you stand up from your crouching position.

“ashton, i gotta do your hair really quick, okay? remember when you had your hair in those braids and little ponytail? that’s what your mommy wants me to do, so you ready?”

ashton nods and pops a blueberry in his mouth.

“mm-hm. just don’t do it tight, ti-ti, it hurt.” his tone shifts to a tone of disdain and you can’t blame him. you remember back in the day when your sister used to braid your hair and you always complained that she did it too tight and she always would retort that you were “tender headed”. you didn’t want to keep up that argument any longer, so you just asked her to teach you the basics of styling your own hair. after some weekly braiding tutorials on a bratz doll head, you were straight.

“i swear, bookie. i’m not gonna braid it too tight. you’re gonna relax, watch tv, and eat while i do your hair. i pinky promise.” you held up your pinky finger and brought it to ashton’s small figure. you knew you gained his trust when he nodded and wrapped his pinky around yours, establishing your agreement. you peer up to nicholas who stood there watching the whole thing with a simpering smile.

“babe, you and ash get settled on the couch while i go and get the hair stuff, okay?” you request as you start making your way upstairs to your bathroom.

“you got it, beautiful!” he called out and didn’t let you leave before placing a quick peck to your lips to which ashton playfully gagged, causing nicholas to laugh and scoop up the boy in his arms.

“aw, don’t be like that, man! i gotta show ti-ti some love, too. come on, bud, tell me what want to watch and uncle nic will put it on for you. you like netflix? disney+?” the boys seat themselves comfortably on the sofa as they explore the many options on the tv with nicholas pressing the remote to find a show for his (already but future) nephew.

while you were gathering the products needed for ashton’s hair, the boys focus on the children’s television show that ashton selected for a few minutes. he even offers nicholas some pieces of his fruit bowl which he gratefully accepts. nicholas wasn’t hungry by any means, but who was he to deny a three year old with such good manners and an adorable, little face?

“uncle nic?” ashton’s voice broke the silence.

“what’s up, ashton?” nicholas’ brown eyes pulled from the tv to the toddler beside him.

“why do you always kiss ti-ti like that? is that nasty?” the boy tilts his head up to meet nicholas’ eyes and his brows furrow with curiosity. nicholas couldn’t help, but to chuckle before giving him an honest answer.

“i kiss her to show that i love her and i promise it’s not nasty, it’s pretty sweet actually. like candy.” nicholas was speaking straight from the heart as a small smile curved on his features, his cheeks tinted with the color of a rose as his mind went back to you. he noticed how ashton’s face turned from confusion to amazement.

“i like candy! so if i give ti-ti a kiss to show that i love her, i taste candy?”

nicholas admired the innocence of this boy. he knew that ashton had to be protected at all costs. he nods before responding,

“yeah, that’s exactly right, buddy! how about you give it a try when she comes back? you done with that?” nicholas points to the now empty bowl in ashton’s little hands. ashton looks down at the bowl and nods his head, giving nicholas his cue to take the bowl to the kitchen, wash it out, place it in the cabinet, and return to the living room. he walks in to see you return with a clear plastic box with what seemed to be a detangling comb, gel, hair ties, and an assortment of more hair products that you placed on the cushion. as nicholas returns to his seat, you take a fluffy pillow from the couch and place it down on the floor for ashton to sit on.

“ti-ti’s back, bookie! sit on the pillow, so i can do your hair.” you say, pointing at the pillow on the floor.

“wait i gotta do something first, ti-ti!” your nephew protests and moves closer to you.

“what is it, honey?” what you didn’t expect was for ashton to hug you tightly around your neck which you immediately hugged him back before he places a big whopping kiss on your cheek. he pulls back and smacks his lips as if he was trying to taste something.

“why are you doing your lips like that, ashton? is there something on my face?” you ask touching your face confused as all get out and then you hear nicholas snickering behind you. what has he put this boy up to?

“i’m trying to taste candy because uncle nic said that giving you kisses taste like candy! right, uncle nic?”

him and nicholas burst in laughter as you take the pillow from the floor and playfully whack your fiancé with it before laughing yourself, shaking your head as heat rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“you both are a mess! nicholas alexander chavez, i’ma get you later, but as for you, bookie—” you lunge to scoop the boy in your arms and your fingers move rapidly on his sides. the melodies of your nephew’s hysterical laughter fill the room for a few seconds and you cease your tickling. you all take a moment to catch your breath and you put the pillow back on the floor again before instructing ashton to sit down which he happily obliges to. you roll up your sleeves, grab the detangling cream and comb, and you start the process of getting out all of the knots at the ends. nicholas watches you attentively as you glide the coconut scented cream through your nephew’s scalp. you ask him to pass you the braiding gel out of the box as you section ashton’s hair for the desired style. nicholas hands you what you need and his eyes focus on how your fingers move like clockwork within ashton’s dark, coily tresses.

whenever ashton whined a bit in pain, you and nicholas reassured him that you were being as quick and gentle as possible. within the next thirty minutes, you were done! the braids looked so fresh and neat. you took out your phone and captured a picture of ashton’s side profile and sent it your sister. you gave ashton a hand held mirror for him to gaze upon his new look and the expression on his face made your heart swell.

“what do you think, bookie? you like it?” you ask, grinning and watching him walk around with his face still in the mirror before he stops to look at nicholas with expectant doe eyes.

“i like it! do you like it, uncle nic?”

with a prideful grin, your fiancé stood grand and tall, scooping ashton up in his arms and placing him on his hip.

“ash, i say this with all honesty. you look better than me.”

“really!?” ashton playfully gasped as he wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck.

“really, really! you look so handsome, buddy. babe, would you take our picture, please?” he pulls out his phone from his pocket and hands it over to you. you don’t hesitate to nod and open the camera, waiting for your boys to get into a pose with cheesy smiles on their faces. you count to three and snap the picture before repeating the process several times and giving nicholas his phone back.

“don’t forget to send those to me, so s/n can get them.” you say, cleaning up the tiny mess you made and put the items back to where they belong before you come back to them. you all decide it would be great to get some fresh air at the park which was a two minute walk away from your place. after changing into some active wear and grabbing ashton’s backpack, you all exit your house and take the brief stroll to your destination. once you’ve entered to the playground area, nicholas volunteers to keep an eye on ashton while he plays and you watch from a distance while sitting on the bench. the park had some people there, but it wasn’t too much of a crowd. you take pictures and videos as you watch your fiancé and nephew bond. your heart skipped a beat when you see ashton go down a slide with nicholas ready to pick him up in his arms as soon as he came to the end or when nicholas guided ashton’s small hanging body across the monkey bars as his palms gripped each bar.

he’s so good with him. i wonder what would it be like if—

as if your mind was being read, you didn’t notice the older woman that sat beside you on the bench because you were hypnotized by the display of cuteness in front of you.

“is that your husband and son? if so, they are just adorable! i miss those days so much. you’re one lucky young lady.”

you were a bit bashful due to your daydreaming, but you got yourself together promptly and indulged in the conversation.

“aw, thank you! that’s actually my fiancé with my nephew, but with the way they are around each other, i don’t blame you for thinking that at all. it’s funny because i just thinking about, you know, starting a family. i’ve been with that man for five years and i never thought i’d love him even more when i see him bond with my family, especially the little ones.”

“that’s because that’s his family too, dear. he’s going to fit right in as soon as you both tie the knot.” you turn your face to hers, there was an aura of benevolence and wisdom that reminded you of your late grandmother and oh, how you missed her so. you nod in agreement before resuming the conversation,

“you’re so right. when you put it like that, my nephew has called him ‘uncle nic’ for a whole year before we got engaged. i guess that just solidified everything!” you both create small talk for a few more minutes before the kind woman bids you a goodbye to venture on the walking trail. it wasn’t long before ashton and nicholas approach you to announce they want to shoot some hoops at the park’s basketball court. you agree before giving ashton and nicholas a water bottle and you all take the short journey to an empty basketball court. the park provided the balls for the community, so nicholas took one for him and ashton to have a little one v. one on the court. you lean up against the wired fence, observing your nephew dribbling the basketball up and down while his little legs speed past your fiancé. nicholas picks him up to let him face the goal. with the aid of nicholas’ six foot stature, ashton was able to shoot and get the ball through the net.

“he shoots, he scores! it’s nothing but net and the crowd goes wild for the mvp, ashton.” nicholas places your triumphant nephew on his shoulders and gazes at your figure, you took that as your cue to cheer, chant, and clap for ashton as if you were in a packed stadium.

“GO, BOOKIE, GO! GO, BOOKIE, GO!” you run up to them both, placing a chaste kiss on nicholas’ lips and taking ashton in your arms to give him a shower of kisses on his sweaty face.

“did you see me, ti-ti, did you see me?!” he excitedly questioned.

“yeah, i did! you did great. if you keep practicing, your mommy might put you in a real basketball team one day when you’re bigger.”

speaking of showers, you tell the boys it’s time to wrap it up here at the park. you suggest that after a wash up, you’d get some food, and enjoy some disney movies until it was time for ashton to be picked up as his mother was going to come back in a few short hours. once, you gather your belongings, you walk carrying the backpack and nicholas, carrying an exhausted and hungry ashton on his back. once you make it back to your home, you and nicholas complete your tasks to finish the day out. you take ashton to your bathroom to give him a bath to save your sister that time while nicholas goes out to grab the food. after his bath, you change ashton in a fresh set of clothes before you take him to the living room to pick out a movie to watch. you sit in comfortable silence, clicking the remote and you hear a little voice call out from beside you.

“ti-ti?”

“yes, bookie?” you quickly select a movie from the despicable me series and turn to your inquisitive nephew.

“where’s uncle nic?”

“he went to get us something to eat, love.”

“is he coming back? i really like him and i feel a little sad when he’s not here. just like how i feel sad when i don’t see you.” you knew he was asking that because of the obvious absence of his father. it made you so happy that nicholas was an exemplary man ashton looked up to, but what broke your heart is that ashton realized when someone he loves is gone, he has an uncertainty of their return. no child younger than five should feel like that. let alone any child at all. you wrap an arm around his tiny body and place a kiss atop of his head.

“how much you wanna bet uncle nic is getting your favorite?”

the glint of gloom in ashton’s eyes switched moods and his head perked up.

“he got mcdonald’s!?”

you both turn your heads at the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open.

“mcdonald’s delivery!”

as if timing weren’t perfect enough, nicholas walked through the front door with a large mcdonald’s bag and a cup holder tray with three drinks. you leave the couch only to help him with the load by bringing the food and drinks onto the coffee table. ashton eyes gawked as he watched nicholas take out an assortment of burgers, fries, and nuggets before you all sit and indulge in the fast food. you hit play on the movie and watch the film as you eat. within an hour, you and ashton were cuddled up against nicholas’ shield of a chest, you both lovingly watched as your nephew dozed off to sleep, his soft snores accompanied with the audio of the movie that was still playing. it was interrupted by the sound of a car horn out front. you yawned and knew it was your sister.

“you want me to carry everything to the car while you talk to s/n, baby?” nicholas whispered, his soft yet intense brown gaze held your sleepy one.

he grinned at your response of a nod before you both gingerly move, careful not to wake up ashton as you both walked him to his mother’s awaiting car. he can get pretty cranky when his sleep is disturbed. nicholas opens the back door of the car and carefully places ashton in his booster seat. it didn’t take him long to figure out how to strap him in and he softly shuts the door. he circled around to the drivers side to wrap an arm around your waist as you talk to your sister.

“so how was he? it looked like ya’ll did a lot today, huh?” your sister inquired and glances to her knocked out son in the back seat and shifts her focus back to you guys.

“he was great! no trouble at all. i braided down his hair and after that we took him out to the park where he kicked nicholas’ tail in some hoops. he’s already had a bath and something to eat, so you don’t have to worry about that, sis.” you all chuckle, your lips graciously smile and you wrap your own arm around nicholas’ sculpted torso. he peers down at you with affection in his eyes at your touch. you don’t notice it, but your sister does, and she couldn’t be happier for you both.

“aww, well i appreciate you both so much for watching him! y/n, remember that talk we had about me returning the favor because you know i got you.”

she points and shoots you a wink. nicholas chuckles watching you cover your face with embarrassment. after the laughter and chatting dies down, your sister bids you and nicholas a goodbye before pulling off. with your hands joined together, you and nicholas walk back into your home. you both take time to tidy up the living room before retiring to your own bedroom. nicholas lays in the bed in nothing, but a chain and grey sweatpants with his hands behind his head. his brown eyes burn into your figure as you slip out of your previous clothes and change into a pair of his boxers and one of his oversized t-shirts. you’ve been with him for five years and you still feel bashful under his intense gaze. you dig in your drawer to find your black satin bonnet and you easily slip it on your head as you saunter to the bed and lay your body up against his, your arms wrapped around his neck and your head on his shoulders. his large arms find themselves to embrace you, one of his hands hold on to your thigh to bring your leg up across his waist.

you both lay there in comfortable silence to catch your breaths from such an exhilarating day. you break the silence with a whisper,

“you’re really good with ashton, you know. i just wanted you to know that.”

“i appreciate it, doll and he loves you so much. i love you so much.”

he softly declares, placing a peck to your forehead, cheek, and earlobe. he stops to peer into your eyes then your lips and into your eyes again, silently asking permission to go further. you smile with a nod before you reach up to guide your lips to his, he holds your waist to pull you right on top of him as you both continue to give each other’s lips the longing, passionate kisses you’ve both been waiting for all day. a hum vibrates in your chest when his teeth gently pull at your pouty bottom lip out for him to release it and bounce back to it’s original place. after a minute or two of indulging in each other, you both pull away to lay in your original position now with swollen lips and shallow breaths.

“i love you too by the way.” you place a peck on his bare chest where his heart is.

“babe, i got a question. why did you and s/n talk about returning a favor or something?”

the heat of embarrassment rose on your earth toned face, he was no dummy, so it was only fair he was going to catch on.

“what she meant was that one day she would like to do the babysitting—you know, for us, when we–” you paused. the volume of your voice diminished with each word.

“have kids?” nicholas finished the sentence. still avoiding his eyes, you give a small smile and nod confirming his answer.

“yeah.”

“hey, hey. look at me.” his pointer finger finds itself under your chin to lift your eyes to meet his sincere gaze.

“if you’re thinking in that beautiful brain of yours that one day i want to start a family with you, then you’re absolutely right. spending that time with you and ashton had me thinking that if we’re this good at being ti-ti and uncle nic, what would it be like if we were mom and dad?”

you couldn’t help, but to laugh with excitement while putting your hands in your face. he pulled you in so close and showered your face with kisses.

“nope! don’t hide that beautiful face away from me. the same face that i’ll see at that altar and the same face i’ll see on our future children!”

“okay, okay! i give!” you let out giggle and give him a chaste kiss before pulling from his grip.

“so you want a baby with me?” you ask just one more time to make sure you weren’t dreaming. he lays another kiss on you. this kiss was sincere, a confirmation. he pulled back and gazed into your eyes.

“i wouldn’t want anything more with anyone else. does that answer your question?”

you nod and pull the duvet over you both.

“so, should we start trying?” nicholas seductively inquires in your ear after he scoots up behind you, caressing the melanated skin of your thigh.

“nah.” you answered with a dry tone before shutting off the light and pulling the cover over your body. nicholas was gagged. you guess he forgot what you said earlier when he played that little “candy kisses” trick on your nephew.

“come on, baby. whatever i did please let me make it up to you by making you a mommy, hm?” he playfully whined with a pout.

“uh-uh. i told you i was gonna get you! you can make it up to me when you’re off punishment.”

“now, how long would that be?”

“goodnight, nicholas.” you ruffle his hair and chuckled at him sucking his teeth as you nuzzled deeper within the covers.

“y/n!”

[moonstruckme]

in theory i really want to see bodyguard!james and reader where she gets hurt and he takes care of her… but i literally cannot imagine him letting her get hurt at any point. unless like they both barely escape with their lives, or maybe someone else was on her detail for the day — cutting myself off with an idea: james is set on another task for an event for whatever reason and when danger erupts somehow, he completely abandons it to come protect her even though shes supposed to have another detail, desperate to protect her

Hi! I sort of did a mix of these if that's alright, thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of blood, small head injury, past break-in/attack

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your heart lurches when the bathroom door handle jiggles, someone using a key, but then James steps inside. 

You choke on a sob you didn’t realize had been building. He rushes to meet you as you stand from the closed toilet, arms coming tight around your waist. It’s a good thing, because your legs don’t seem ready to support you. Your knees are wobbly and insubstantial, your ribs feel sore, and you can only see out of one eye. But James is here, so that’s all alright. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He sounds teary. You know James to be an emotional creature, but he doesn’t often let them show when he’s working. Though you don’t suppose he is working, since he’d gone home from his shift not long ago. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re in one piece.” 

“What’re you doing here?” 

“I heard what happened.” He squeezes you tight, then releases you, taking your face in his hands. “Are you okay? What happened here?” He touches near your forehead. 

You take a breath, but despite your best intentions your voice wobbles. “I’m okay.” 

James’ expression melts with understanding. Blood still flows hot over your eye, the sharp pain on your head bleeding but evidently not enough to worry the men on your detail who’d hustled you in here after the guy who’d broken in and tried to attack you was subdued. Enough to make your lungs feel tight and panicky, though. 

James strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re okay,” he agrees. 

“I just—I can’t see, James.” 

“I know, let’s see. Let me have a look.” He sits you back down on the toilet, grabbing a few things from the cabinet underneath your sink before squatting in front of you. You swear, he knows where you keep your things better than you do. James pushes your hair away from your face, gentle fingers landing at your hairline. “Oh, it’s only small.” 

“Why is it bleeding so much?” 

“Because head wounds bleed a lot, honey,” he says lightly. You recognize this tone; it’s the one he always uses when he can tell you’re spiraling, extra untroubled to counter you. It used to work better before you knew him so well. “You’ll be alright, I’m just going to clean it for you. Does it hurt much?”

“Not a lot,” you say, wincing as he passes a sterile wipe over the cut. 

James frowns. “They didn’t send someone to look at you?” 

“You look at me all the time. Not sure they need someone else to do it.” 

He snorts. “I mean like a doctor, babe.” 

You knew what he meant. “No.” You try to keep the pique out of your tone, but you suspect he hears it anyway. “They just ran me in here and told me to stay put.” 

“That is protocol,” James allows. “Maybe they’ve just not had time to send someone yet. They’ve brought the assailant into the other wing for questioning.” 

You furrow your brows, and he says quietly “hey,” thumbing at your forehead so you relax it again. 

“Assailant?” 

James hesitates. “I suppose he may not qualify as an assailant. That’s just the term we always use to describe anyone who tries to get to you.” 

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. You gnaw on it pensively. “But you think he was really here to kill me?” 

“We’re your security team,” James says gently. “We have to work off the assumption that anyone attempting to get to you is trying to kill you.” He places a bandage over your cut, looking you in the eye. “But that’s not for you to worry about, okay? That’s our job.” 

You’re silent while he gets a few more sterile wipes, ripping one open. You’re not sure exactly how much blood is on you, but that he starts cleaning underneath your jaw doesn’t feel like a great sign. 

“You’re not on shift,” you say after a minute. “How did you know to come?” 

James thinks for a second. “You know our team uses a private radio channel to communicate, right?” You nod. “Well, the signal doesn’t stretch far, but I sometimes listen to it on my way home until it goes out.” He gives you a half sheepish look. “We’re not supposed to, but it makes me feel better to check up on things.” 

You laugh softly. “Can’t ever stop working, can you?” 

“Hey, just because you’re alright when I leave you doesn’t mean you will be five minutes later.” You can tell it’s meant to be a joke, but James’ tone sobers near the end of his sentence. You’re sure he’s thinking about what happened today, same as you. He says quietly, “I just like to keep up to date on you for as long as I can.” 

He starts cleaning the blood off your eye, and you shut your other one while he does. James’ hands are characteristically gentle, something that had surprised you after first meeting him. Here’s this bodyguard, all broad frame and big, intimidating muscles, and he touches you with all the loving softness of a teddy bear. 

He does one last swipe over your eye, says “there,” and kisses near your eyebrow. 

“Thanks, Jamie.” You fold forward, looping your arms around his neck. He knows what you need, big palm moving up your spine. You press your face into the meat of his shoulder. “I know I’m supposed to say that I like it when you go home and rest,” you mumble, “but I sort of wish you could stay here all of the time.” 

“Maybe we can work out a solution,” he humors you. “I could set up a cot by the end of your bed.” 

“Don't be silly.” You hug him tighter. “I’d at least blow up an air mattress for you. And you could have a whole bathroom drawer to yourself.” 

“That is a very generous offer.” You can hear the smile in James voice. Can feel the affection he’s squeezing into your sore ribs. “I’ll check with the boss and get back to you, okay?”

[cherryswisherz]

secrets and failed plans

paige x azzi

warnings: sexual innuendos, suggestive, narrarated by lemony snicket himself

based on this req

"you're my little secret, and thats how we should keep it. we should never let them know, never let it show. if you know, like i know, we should never let it go"

your my little secret (xscape, 1998)

-

if you asked azzi fudd about her relationship with paige bueckers, she would tell you that they'd known each other since high school. that they'd started as rivals and became frenemies and later, in college, best friends. she'd say that she loves playing basketball with paige because she knows her game like the back of her hand. azzi would tell you that paige is her oldest and closest friend. 

if you asked paige bueckers about her relationship with azzi fudd, she wouldn't tell you that they'd known each other in the most biblical of terms. that a simple game of 2 truths and a lie had changed the trajectory of their lives. she wouldn't say that she sleeps the best in  azzi's arms. paige wouldn't tell you that azzi is her girlfriend and had been for seven years. 

paige and azzi were basketballs best kept secret. 

they didn't have the novelty of soft or hard launches. instead, they kept the photographic evidence of their love safe in the confines of their 'my eyes only' folder. 

they didn't get to make possessive gestures, like necklaces with eachother intials, or hidden tattoos. instead they wore rings that the other had gotten them, and when asked about it, they simply said 'i forgot where i got this from.' 

they didn't own the privilege of PDA. for them, there was no making out in bars, or holding hands as they walked down the street. instead, they made do with a subtle lean in the others direction or the occasional risky level of eye contact. 

was this an ideal situation for two young women in love? of course not. paige and azzi would love to suck face in front of the world, or tattoo each others initials on their ribcage, or something equally cheesy and romantic and vile to single people. 

but it was just too complicated and messy. the questions and politics that came with dating another college basketball player, let alone you teammate, wasn't something that the couple was willing to go through. they realized this as soon as paige had graduated high school and had a surprisingly mature conversation about the terms of their relationship. they knew they wanted to be together, but they didn't want the sanctity of their bond to be tarnished by the media.

so they made a deal. keep it a secret until azzi graduated college and when they'd both gotten drafted, they would announce their relationship and get engaged and live happily ever after. 

that was the plan. 

and they'd done a damn good job at following the plan if you asked me. no one knew about them, except their immediate families. no teammates, no coaches, no friends, no media team members, no anything. everyone thought the pair were merely close friends.

of course this wasn't an easy thing to facade to keep up with. there were plenty of incidents where the true nature of their relationship was revealed. 

aubrey griffin had once heard them through the wall separating her and paige's bedrooms and then next day, when she inquired about the moans and groans she'd heard coming from her teammates room, paige only shrugged and said she couldn't remember her one night stands name. 

one night, nika muhl, being the observant woman she is, notice paige's earrings in ahotel room that she and azzi shared and when she'd asked azzi about it, azzi lied through her teeth and explained that paige had let her borrow the earrings the night prior. 

through all of the trials and tribulations of maintaining the confidentiality of their relationship, paige and azzi had always maintained true to each other. they never got frustrated with each other when a slip up occurred, never placed blame or made the other feel bad. they simply focused on damage control and went about their lives. 

with all this being said, even the most careful people can't hide forever. 

as the twosome stared in paiges bathroom mirror, a pit formed in both of their stomachs. splayed across paige's collarbone was a bruise. 

well... 

not so much a bruise as it was a hickey. 

you see, the night before was the couples anniversary and apparently, ms. fudd had gotten carried away while expressing her undying affection for her lover. 

paige and azzi spent the next 30 minutes perfecting the color correcting/concealer routine needed to hide the mark. they'd done well, except they hadn't thought of the technicalities. 

today was uconn women's basketball teams exhibition game against fort hays, and of course the face of uconn wbb bound to play at 150%. leaving her sweaty and gross. 

in all honesty, paige thought nothing of it when she threw the towel around her neck and began aimlessly wiping her chest in an attempt to rid herself of that swampy feeling. no one really did. they knew this was routine for players after leaving their souls on the floor. 

it wasn't until after the team had returned to the locker room and celebrated their win that a certain curious sophomore noticed the blemish on paiges pale skin. 

"oooouuu p boogers, who's been freakin on you?" kamorea teased, smacking the blonde with her towel. all eyes were now on #5

paiges willed her eyes to refrain from finding azzis, knowing that would be a dead giveaway. 

"man kk, chill!" she'd tried to laugh it off, play into the teams preconceived notion that paige was a player. "you know i don't kiss and tell." 

it was no use though, because kamorea was going to keep up her antics until she'd gotten the truth. 

but paige and azzi had worked to hard to protect their secret and paige wasn't about to let seven years go down the drain so easily. 

so she answered all of her younger teammates questions as vaguely as possible. simple yes/no replies and whatnot. 

finally, kamorea had gotten tired of paige's games and went to her next best source:

paiges oldest and closest friend.

"azzi poo! you have to tell me who was sucking on paige last night." in the process of asking her question, kamorea grabbed azzis bicep, eliciting a wince. 

of course, young kamorea noticed the reaction and looked down, only to see azzi had aqquired a few bruises of her own. two angry purple marks had formed on the girls bicep and shoulder. 

azzi didn't play in the game, so she couldn't have been fouled.... azzi and paige slept in the same room...

the gears began turning in kamoreas head and as the newfound detective put two and two together, paige's eyes had finally met azzis, knowing that they'd been found out. 

"OH MY GOSHHHH" kamorea began jumping around like a lunatic. "PAZZI IS REAL!" 

and just like that, five years of careful sneaking around had been undone by a nosy nineteen year old. 

the locker room erupted into cheers and the couple was swarmed with questions about how long this had been going on, why didn't they say anything, and so on, so forth. azzi followed paiges lead on being honest about the whole thing, but still being as vague as possible. 

after the chaos had settled, paige explained to her team that they had to keep it under wraps for the sake of their relationship. she broke down the plan they'd formed so many years ago and begged for their understanding, which of course, she received without the blink of an eye.

and at the end of that day, azzi and paige fell asleep in each others arms, like they'd done so many times. only this time, they were on the couch of the home they shared with their teammates. 

this time, they weren't worried about who would see what, they weren't worried about pictures being posted in an attempt to embarrass them. 

this time, they knew they were safe, and not alone in each others company. 

niyah speaks i hate this lol

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt

@mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03 @pb524830

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - roronoa zoro

a/n: i for sure need these headcannons so bad at the moment😭😭 luckily, i should be starting some antidepressants soon!! i'm a bit nervous about it but it's definitely worth the shot, since i have tried literally everything else 😭 anywho, only the fluffiest fluff for now 😭😭😭😭 its all my heart can take

nothing but fluff here 💗

---------------------------------------------------------------------

when he comforts you:

-the green haired swordsman was the type of man to notice something was up before you ever had the chance to say anything about it. while he may not seem like it, he always has his eye on you.. he notices the slightest shifts in your mood, body language, the way you speak, the glimmer in your eyes, he'd never come out and say that.. but he shows up in smaller ways

-he'll spend a lot more time with you. invite you to watch him work out or drink with him under the stars, just making himself more present in your life, he'll never let you really be alone, unless you asked him for that.

-you may have to initiate it.. but the second you looked at zoro with teary eyes asking "can you just hold me for a second?" he'll grab you and pull you into his arms so fast... and he's not letting go anytime soon. his tight muscles enveloping your body, the rhythmic sound of his heart beating against your cheek is a sense of calm you can't experience with anyone other than him... it isn't until you lightly slap his arm with gentle giggles saying "okay.. zo, i can't breathe when you're holding me this tight.." that he loosens his grip on you (the absolute tiniest bit)

-the swordsman isn't the chattiest when it comes to talking through problems, but if you want advice, his straightforward and blunt outlook is surprisingly more helpful than you anticipate at times. zoro doesn't beat around the bush when it comes to his advice, so he'll only tell you if you really want to/are ready to hear it.

-you'll catch him staring at you more often than usual. this man always keeps an eye on you. it's his silent check in.. his casual way of asking "you doing okay?"

-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: while he is mr tough guy ™️, he does not play around with you and your health. he'll grumble and pout when you aren't resting. his typical methods of forcing you to rest (but also still make you feel useful) is to have you lay on his back while he does push ups or dragging you to take naps with him. he doesn't outwardly express his worry but you'll find yourself waking up from naps with his watchful gaze on your face, his brows slightly furrowed, his gruff voice asking "did ya sleep okay? were you comfortable?" and he'll only relax when you reply with your typical soft sleepy smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering "yeah.. im okay... since you're here with me."

when he needs comforting:

-again, zoro isn't the chattiest guy in the world..so you can tell he needs you when he wordlessly pulls you close to him, burying your face into his chiseled chest, his rapid heartbeat sounding off in your ear, one hand tangled into your hair holding you head close to his heart, the other tightly gripped around your waist. the rugged soft murmur in your ear asking "can we stay like this for a bit?"

-one of his favorite ways to unwind is up in the crows nest with a bottle (or ten) of sake, with you by his side. resting your head on his shoulder as you both stargaze with the ambience of the crashing waves beneath you

-the swordsman also loves to throw himself deeper into his training as a distraction.. so he's absolutely thrilled when you one day approach him asking for help improving your fighting techniques and combat maneuvering.. be prepared to work hard though.. he'll train you until the sun goes down, eventually all his worries washing away when he sees the smile of satisfaction on your tired face after finally perfecting what he taught you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: getting to write this with the soft patters of rain outside my window healed a part of my soul 😭😭 this is truly the quickest and easiest time i've had writing for zoro so hopefully that streak continues 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You close the cupboard and nearly jump out of your skin as Adrienne stands on the other side of it. She stares at you soberly before she cracks a sheepish smile. You show your fright with a hand on your chest. 

“Ade,” you huff. 

She laughs, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” 

“No problem,” you assure her. “What’s up?” 

Her nostrils flare and her smile dulls, “it’s been a week.” 

One week. Your father’s been away for a whole week. He’s rarely been gone that long. His jobs are never more than a couple days. And you haven’t heard from him, but that’s not unusual or disappointing. 

“Hopefully it will be another,” Kitty says as she walks into the kitchen with a half-finished glass of water. “It’s calm around her. Isn’t it?” 

You nod. A silence rises around the three of you. You think back to the one memory you have of a peaceful house. When it was the three of you and your mother. 

“He got that kidney stone,” Kitty says. “Had him in the hospital for days. Ma said it was barely the size of a bead.” 

“Best days of my life,” you agree. 

“I don’t remember,” Adrienne says. 

As the youngest, she doesn’t remember everything and you sometimes think that’s better for her sanity. Even your memory is splotchy. There are fractures of noise and vision. Sometimes you only see, other times it replays like a record on a player and crawls through your ears. 

“So, Ade, why are you so concerned?” Kitty inquires. 

Adrienne hesitates. She shrugs and looks away guiltily. She’s a bad liar. You all are despite the typical consequences. 

“Mitzi wanted to see a movie. They’re screening Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Golden Reel.” 

“Audrey?” Kitty preens. “My favourite.” 

“You can come. I was going to ask both of you but I thought if daddy came back--” 

“And we’re all gone...” you add. “You two go. I can deal with him.” 

“That’s not fair,” Kitty says. 

“Really, go. I can’t focus on a movie right now.” You insist. “Have some popcorn for me, alright?” 

“He probably won’t be back,” Kitty argues. 

You wave her off, “really, it’s fine. You know I hate crowds. That theatre is tiny and it’ll probably be packed on a Friday night.” 

“Okay, but I’m bringing you back raisinettes. I know you love them.” Kitty insists. 

“Have fun. Tell Mitzi I said hello,” you turn back to the cupboards and run your hands over the laminate.  

You’ve been restless. You clean just to keep yourself busy. To keep from thinking. And when you lay down at night, you’re not kept awake by your usual dread. It isn’t your father standing on your chest, it’s Barnes. In your dreams, he doesn’t strut into the bakery, but into your house. And he sits at the table where your father would usually be and sits silently, waiting. 

That’s why this calm unsettles you. There’s always a storm to come after the quiet. It will unfurl soon enough. 

“Hey, you okay?” Kitty’s gentle touch makes you wince. 

“I’m good,” you assure her and nearly gag on your tongue. For a moment, it wasn’t your voice, it was your mother’s. That same lie she told for so long. You both hesitate at the echo of your lifetimes. “Really,” you face her, “you know I’m dying to have this place to myself. When does that ever happen?” 

She stares at you then smiles. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

She falters again. It’s what you’re all thinking. You want to milk every bit of joy out of your father’s absence.

Kitty turns and grabs Adrienne’s hand, quickly redirecting from the threat of inevitability, “Ade, what are you gonna wear?” 

You take out the flour and all the other ingredients you need. For once, you can afford to spare a bit extra. When you were really young, your mother made her own bread. That stopped shortly after she had Adrienne. She changed after that. She was exhausted with all three of you. 

You measure out every part before you begin. Your precision has always tied you in knots. You find it hard to get anything done unless it’s entirely orderly. In a house full of chaos, that means often you don’t get much done at all. 

As you knead the dough, Kitty and Adrienne’s voices garble on the stairs. They stomp down to the first floor and call a goodbye to you through the doorway. You holler back but keep your hands working. 

You get the loaf in the oven and clean up the mess. The empty house is eerie. You can’t remember the last time you were all alone. Really alone. Ever, if at all. 

You wash the bowls and the whisk and the roller. You put it all away, step-by-step, running through every single detail. The timer counts down, the small windable egg-shaped device your mother always had going for one way or another. Tick, tick, tick. 

It goes off and you jump. For a moment, you’re back in your memories. You’re a little girl at the table, watching your mother rush around the kitchen. Kitty’s beside you with a colouring book and Adrienne’s in her high chair. 

Your mother limps from the fridge to stove. She doesn’t let it deter her. She bends to take out the pan of food as the timer buzzes. Adrienne wails at the noise as you cover your ears. The smell of cigarette smoke singes in your nostrils. 

You twist the timer so it goes silent as you return to the present. The scent of tobacco fades as the fresh baked bread wafts through the kitchen. You open the creaky oven door and use the stained oven mitts to take the pan out. Your mother always wanted a new stove. You assume she wanted a lot of things that she never got. 

You put the pan down and shut off the oven. The doorbell pierces the air and you spin, your back hitting the counter. It wouldn’t be your father; he wouldn’t ring the door. He always comes in screaming, even in the middle of the night. 

You put the oven mitts on the table as you pass and step out into the hall. You near the door, a shadow on the other side of the marbled glass. It’s a man. Your heartbeat spikes. Your father is a criminal and a strange man knocking at your door could be dangerous. 

Is death so bad when living is terrifying? 

You open the door. A wash of deja vu flows over you. It isn’t a strange man, it’s Steve Rogers. Again. That doesn’t ease your worries. 

“You. Come.” He orders you. 

You hold your breath. That is unusual. Your father’s associates come and go, most times they barely acknowledge you, they’re just there to talk shit with him or drag him off on some caper. This is different. Different is dangerous. 

“Yeah, you,” he snaps his fingers. “Look, I don’t got all day. Let’s go.” 

You look down. “My shoes...” 

“Get ‘em,” he sighs and crosses his arms. 

You step back and leave the door open. You step into a pair of scuffed flats and turn back to him. You don’t even grab your keys as you step outside. You’re shaking. 

“Is it my father?” You ask. 

“No questions.” He snarls as he turns and marches down the narrow walkway. 

You follow him at a bouncing pace, struggling to keep up with him. He leads you to the car and opens the back door. It’s then that you notice the woman in his front seat. Her eyes are skittish as she peers back out at you. 

“Get in,” he opens the door. “And be quiet.” 

You put your head down and obey. The look on that woman’s face is enough to keep you in line. Besides, your father prepared you well. There’s an order to things and you’re at the very bottom. So keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told. 

[crookedteethed]

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. he'll come back, rafe always does.

warnings smut, infidelity, anal, angst, a-to-v (don't do this, unless you want a vag infection)

"Does your wife ever let you fuck her in the ass?" you'd asked Rafe. 

"Shut up." Rafe had told you, stern face, steady body, and his hand slowly sticking his cock into your ass.

"Fuckkk." You melted as you felt his thick tip entering inside of you; inch by inch, you felt Rafe fill you up to the core. 

And when Rafe finally bottomed out inside you--his pelvis touching your asscheeks, he stayed in that position for a peculiarly long time before slowly dragging himself out of you, then pile-driving himself back into your ass--this time with much more force. 

Your ass hadn't even fully adjusted to his length before Rafe relentlessly pumped himself in you.

All you could do was cling onto the pillow that hosted you up, and drool, while Rafe wrecked you.

Fuck, did you miss this: after a long day of work, opening your phone and seeing a "can I see you?" text from Rafe.

You and Rafe hadn't been seeing each other as much ever since he wanted to "make things right with his family." Which meant he had to stop seeing you.

You hated anal, and you hated being Rafe's second pick, but if that's what all it took to be with him, then so be it.

"You were the first guy I let fuck me in my ass." you told Rafe once you adjusted to his length, the feeling starting to feel bittersweet.

Rafe said nothing, his eyes glued to your heart-shaped butt, his cock rutting into you on a mission.

"Does that mean nothing to you?" You asked him. "You were the first guy I'd done anal with, and what do I get? 'my wife, my wife, my wife.' You mocked, laughing.

Suddenly, you heard a low growl from Rafe, and then he stopped fucking you.

"Fuck this, Y/n." he said, pulling himself out of you. "This was a bad idea--"

"No." you pleaded. "Please don't stop fucking me." you looked at Rafe with puppy dog eyes--which never failed to fail with Rafe.

Rafe hesitated, his eyes conflicted as he looked at you. For a moment, you thought he might leave, but then he growled and roughly flipped you onto your back, and lined himself with your cunt.

"You want me to fuck you? Fine. But don't expect this to mean anything," he snarled, thrusting back into you forcefully.

You gasped at the sudden fullness, wrapping your legs around his waist. "I don't care what it means," you lied, clinging to him desperately. "Just don't stop."

Rafe set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours. You could see the struggle in his eyes - desire warring with guilt. But his body betrayed him, chasing pleasure relentlessly.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. "Why do you do this to me?"

You didn't answer, too lost in the feeling of Rafe's deep penetration in your tight hole--gushing from Rafe's every thrust.

Rafe's fingers dug into your hips, surely leaving bruises. You arched your back, taking him even deeper. A strangled moan escaped your lips.

"That's it," Rafe panted. "Take all of me."

His thrusts grew erratic, his control slipping. You could feel him throbbing inside you, so close to the edge.

"I can't… I shouldn't…" Rafe's words were strained--which you didn't think was meant for your ears to hear. 

You clenched around him deliberately, drawing a sharp gasp from his lips. His resolve crumbled.

"Y/n!" Rafe cried out as he came undone, spilling himself inside you.

You followed moments later, waves of pleasure washing over you. As you both came down from your high, reality began to set in. Rafe pulled away, unable to meet your eyes.

"This can't happen again, y/n, I'm serious." Rafe said, quickly putting on his dress shirt and slacks.

You sat up slowly, pulling the sheet around yourself. "Rafe, wait," you pleaded softly. "We need to talk about this--you can't keep getting my hopes up."

He paused, his back to you as he buttoned his shirt with trembling fingers. "There's nothing to talk about. This was a mistake - one we can't repeat."

"And yet, you still do." you whispered.

Your soft, mournful words hung in the air like a heavy fog, lingering long after Rafe had left your apartment and was on his way home to see his beloved wife. The sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway.

a/n: I have a funny story about this fic. I wrote it back in August, and it's been sitting in my drafts until now. Haha, isn't that funny? 😐