#did not expect those tags next to each other today

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[naburi]

MY TEAMMATE’S DAUGHTER

SANA X READER

TAGS: DADDY KINK

2.7K WORDS

“There she is! Look at my daughter!” Your teammate points in the stand. He found out that he had an illegitimate child, now a beautiful young woman. He pays her visits occasionally and brings her every game to make up for the time he missed, not knowing that his daughter is already receiving the attention that she needs. “F-fuck me harder daddy!” Sana’s plea echoes through your room.

“You’re such a slut.” You said while you slapped her ass. You are holding Sana by her thin arms as you pound her from behind. Her thin body shakes in every impact. “You want harder?” You said as you tighten your grip in her arms to pound her with more force. You take a pause after pulling it out just to ram your cock again in her now messy wet slit. The sound of her juicy slit getting pounded, the sound of flesh colliding as your hips bumps her meaty ass, Sana’s whales of pleasure. These noise made you fuck your slut even more.

Driving back home, a few notifications pop out on your phone screen. You just know they are from the fans that want to congratulate you after a win. You have no idea that one of those fans will change your life overnight. Finally arrived at your home. You went straight to bed to get some needed rest. Scrolling through the notifications bubble, you notice a familiar display photo, but you didn’t mind it as you thought that you probably saw them in the stadium. You are grateful to receive some encouraging messages from your fans, thus you take your time to read each and every message. After opening the first few bubbles, this notification bubble led you to an instagram story that mentioned you. It’s a picture of you and two of your teammates. “Hold on, is this her daughter?” You said as you went to check her account. You saw some of her posts where she is in the game. “That’s why she mentioned me, I’m with her father in the photo.” You concluded. Sana is laying in her room, waiting for you to notice her story. She smiles as it notifies her that you give it a like.

The next game is concluded in a loss, the locker room is silent. It’s an unspoken rule that nobody should go out or have fun at night after a loss. You went straight home. you quickly drove home to get this night. Fewer notifications pop in your phone. You 're not expecting any good messages with how you lost this game. You saw the name of the daughter of your teammate again in your notification bubbles. You click on it first which brings you to an instagram story again. This time it’s a video of you with a caption “great play!” Attached with your mentioned name. You appreciate her compliment and contemplate if you should send her a message. Thinking about it for a minute, you settle in giving it a like again. Scrolling through the other bubbles, a new notification pops up. Sana followed you on instagram and sent you a direct message. “Hi! You did your best! Let’s win the next one!” You left a chuckle while reading her message. You haven’t heard her voice before but you read it like someone is cheering you on. “Thank you! Father played well today as well!” You responded to her. After sending the message, I saw that she had already seen it. It means she’s waiting for your message all along. “He’s a good player just like you! I want to meet you in person!” She sent another message but you were too tired to look at it. You toss your phone to the side before falling asleep.

You drove to the stadium for an early game today. Walking at the facility, it’s strange that you have not met anybody from your team yet. You continue to look for anyone in your team as you hear a noise coming out of one of the rooms. The whole team and staff are here and they are circling around a woman? “Your daughter is so pretty!”,”this can’t be your kid, she doesn’t look like you!”,”she’s too gorgeous to be your daughter!” The whole team is making fun of her father. Sana is standing on the other side, just smiling with the jokes. Her brunette hair shines from the sunlight behind her. Her silky white skin glows brighter than the light itself. Your teammates take turns shaking the woman before going out to the dugout. As more people leave the room, Sana finally caught a glimpse of you. Her innocent smile widens just enough that it looks seductive. It’s your turn for a handshake. You reach out your hand for sana to hold. Her slim fingers touch the back of your hand, her soft hands graces on your skin so slowly that it gives you chills. Her small hands look small compared to yours. She holds your hand a little longer than the others. “Goodluck!” She said while tightening her grip before finally letting your hands go. This is the first time you heard her voice. It didn’t help that her seductive smile didn’t go away when she held you. You won this game, the coach invited the team to celebrate this win with liquor. Some of your teammates are joking that they should also invite Sana with them but her father and some of the other players say that it should be a team only celebration. It’s still early in the night but you and some of your teammates excuse yourselves to go home to take an early rest.

Driving back home, your phone started to pop off with notifications again. You smile expecting a mentioned story or a message from Sana again. You sit on the sofa before you check your phone. You were baffled that no notification is from Sana. Checking your conversation, you saw that you haven’t responded to her message last night. “Should I message her?” You asked yourself. Sana has been putting you in a story in every game but today. You want to know the reason why you haven’t heard from her today thus finding yourself being the one to message her first. “It’s nice to meet you up close.” You said in your chat. Sana usually responds right away. It’s been 10 minutes now and she still has not read your message. You started to worry that you might have done something wrong that made the woman step away from you.

It’s past 10 pm, and a series of notifications wakes you up. You found yourself sleeping on your sofa, waiting for a response from Sana. You hurriedly sat up as you saw the new notification bubbles. “Hi! I grabbed drinks with a friend!” She said while also sending a picture. It’s a picture of her with her drink beside a drawing on the wall. You may get the hint but you act oblivious. “Have you made it home? Stay safe.” You responded. You are finally at ease knowing that she’s just busy. “Thank you, I’m walking with my friend on the way home. We are just a few houses apart from where she lived.” She quickly responded. “Let’s grab a drink some other time as well :)” she added with a smiling expression. The idea of going out with Sana excites you but the realization that her father might take it the wrong way holds you back. you don’t want to create any distraction with the team. “Your father might have found out,” you responded. “We can grab some drinks and spend some time in your house,” she suggested. You don’t like where this is heading, you know what will happen if the two of you are left alone in your home. “No one will find out” you said to yourself before agreeing with Sana. “Meet me after the game on Friday” you said to her.

In the locker room, the players are doing their pre-game routine and changing clothes. Sana is off your mind as you are focused on winning against your rival team. She didn’t leave your mind that long enough as you saw the woman standing outside of the locker room door. Sana is wearing less than what you are accustomed to. She usually is in jeans while paring it to your team's jersey. The locker room got quiet as they were too stunned with how attractive she is. The woman is wearing a small skirt that exposes her long lean legs paired with a tight folder jersey that shows her midriff. She walked inside the locker room to hand something to her father. She said it’s for good luck as she knows that this game means more as it is against your historically rival team. Sana gives you a long glance with a smirk on her face before she walks out. You both knew that she was not there for her father. She’s in there to give a glimpse of what you will see more tonight.

The game ended in a victory. Your coach invited the whole team to celebrate but you politely declined this one as you said you have a date. Your teammates are making fun of you that what you meant is really that you are going to hook up with someone tonight. It is not further from the truth as your mind gets clouded by how seductive Sana looks at you and how inviting her outfit is. You hurriedly walk your way out of the stadium. You tried to call your date for tonight but you were surprised that she is already in front of your car, waiting for you. “What if someone saw you?”,”I’ll just say I’m looking for my father.” She smirked at you. You look around to see if any player or staff saw the two of you but it seems like they are still inside. “How did you know which one is my car?” You asked in disbelief. Sana just gives you a wide smile. You guide her to the passenger seat and open the door for her. She thanked you as she sat inside.

You drove off to the nearest convenient store to grab drinks and some snacks. Sana is waiting in the car while you buy those items in the store. After returning to your seat. You felt her slim fingers wander on your pants. “What took you so long?” Sana’s voice changed. Her voice became higher pitched than usual, almost acting like a baby that’s waiting for her food. Her left hand is now moving up and downward on top of your forming bulge. You have not said anything as you don’t know how to react to her fast advancement. “I want to feel you now, Daddy,” her voice changed again. From a baby-like voice to a slow and alluring voice. Something clicked into you when she called you “Daddy.” It woke up your instinct for sex. Sana noticed this too as she felt how hard you got just by hearing that. Sana smiled and didn't leave her face as she knows that she will get what she came for. The two of you have now arrived at your home. You bring down the drinks and snacks to a small table in your living room. You sit on your sofa as you are about to open the drinks but Sana has other plans.

“I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” Sana unzips your pants down to your ankles. She smiles when she sees your cock begging to be let out on your underwear. She pulls your underwear slowly as she wants to see it spring back up in total hardness which she saw when she finally let your hard cock out. Sana gives your hard cock a few strokes before she measures it with her forearm. “It’s bigger than my forearm!” Her thin forearm has no match with the girth of your cock. You chuckled as even in this situation she can still look as cute and innocent as ever. Sana laughs with you before she holds your cock and pat her face with it. She let your cock rest on her face. Your hard cock is resting beside her sharp nose bridge, your shaft is on top of her left cheek while she closes one of her eyes as your cock is covering half of her face with your tip on her forehead. Sana smiles as she gets turned on by feeling your big cock on her soft face. She holds your cock again to now pat her tongue with it. She gives the tip a few licks before trying to swallow all of your cock in one go. You groan as your cock is not even lubricated enough for a deepthroat. You can feel her soft inside as she slowly swallows all of your cock. Her sharp nose touches your abdomen before she pulls her head back. Sana gasped some air as she left a chuckle. “You have a big dick, daddy.” She smiles again with her eyes widening from excitement.

You had enough of her gimmicks, you know what she came for and you will give her exact what she wants. You hold Sana’s brown hair in a makeshift pigtail to have something to hold on. Sana even opens her mouth wide as she waits for your movement. You bring down her face again, impaling her mouth with your hard cock. Gagging sounds come out every time you put all of your cock in her mouth but she didn’t care. Sana let you use her mouth for your pleasure. You stand up to give yourself a better angle. You know moving your hips to meet her face every time. Sana looks up at you with tears flowing down her eyes. You fasten your face until Sana’s face turns red due to lack of oxygen. You get worried for a bit as you pause to check on her. She coughs when you finally let go of her face. “Why didn’t you tap out?” You asked. “I want my daddy to use me just as he pleases” Sana gives you a wicked smile even in her messed up face.

You carry Sana to your room, she wraps her legs onto you while she kisses your neck before you carry her down to your bed. You unbutton her small skirt and tossed it on the other end of the room. Sana tried to fasten the process by pulling her underwear on her own but you caught her hand. “Someone is being inpatient.” You said while removing her hand on her underwear. “S-sorry, daddy” she said. You eventually remove her underwear. “Fuck me please, daddy.” “Fuck me now,” she continues to plead before you hold her cheeks to open her mouth. You put her underwear inside her mouth as a consequence of her impatience. You aligned your hard cock on her wet lips before slowly plunging it in. Sana's loud moans are muffled by the underwear inside her mouth. You can feel how her slit stretched out due to your girthy cock. You hold her by her thin legs and start your movement. Sana's muffled moans are still loud. She tried to remove her top while you're on top of her but you slap her hands away. “What did I tell you about being inpatient?” You shouted at her. Sana got turned on with how aggressive you're becoming. You pull up her folded jersey top and her bra in one go, exposing her perky boobs. You slapped her boobs with force until red marks appeared. You squeezed her boobs to hold onto it while you continue to fuck her. Sana can’t take it anymore. She removes her underwear in her mouth and starts to plead more. “Fuck me just like that, daddy!” She shouted as her body arched back in pleasure. “You like getting fucked like a slut?” You shouted back. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me! I’m your slut!” She said before she left out a loud moan. You pulled out your cock and instructed her to bend down. Sana quickly obliged and even spread her ass cheeks in front of you. You hold her thin arms as you continue to plunge your cock inside her again. “F-fuck me harder, daddy!”

[yapperblog]

Part 2 of cafe worker!Joost x fem!reader

Part 1

Tags: smut, making out, semi-public, handjob, blowjob.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You feel nervous walking down the same path you always take. Why are you nervous? There was usually a feeling of excitement to unwind, to see the sexy Internet Cafe employee – stifling your giggles who will he scold for breathing too loud this time. But now your palms are sweaty the closer you get to that familiar door.

After your first hookup with Joost, you haven't talked much. You got busy with work, and when you were able to visit the Internet Cafe, he seemed to be busier than usual, new customers keep flooding in. You would catch him for a couple of minutes of casual conversation by his desk, like he hasn't rearranged your guts in this same place. He would also come up to you ask about your day, the first time he did it, it made you blush furiously not having expected it from him. Other than that, you were short with each other and the timing wasn't right. Plus it has been almost a week since your last visit, probably the longest you haven't been in that place. So, all those thoughts piled on top of each other, you were feeling extra anxious to see him.

Today however you were determined to have a proper conversation. You are down to keep it casual, if he doesn't want anything serious, but you need clarity – it has been driving you crazy not knowing what he thinks about that night, does he regret it, does he want anything more?

Once again, you open the door, familiar sounds and smell greeting you, as well as a pair of blue eyes lingering in your direction. Joost smiles at you, as you come over to his desk.

"Hi you." he says, still smiling.

"Hi." It throws you off how cheerful he is, the usual scowl nowhere to be found.

"Haven't seen you in a while." his attention is still fully on you, on a normal fay by that time he was already back to typing on the computer. "Thought you went to the competitors. Maybe some other Internet Cafe has opened up." he tries to joke.

You stare at him silently and burst out laughing, the previous tension and anxiety simmering down. Maybe he is in the same mood to figure things out between you finally.

"I wouldn't dare." you lean in closer over the desk.

"That's right." he doesn't look away, matching your eye contact.

You reach for your purse to get the cash for the computer, but he stops you. "It's on the house today. Loyal customer and all that."

You look shocked at him, "You don't have to do that, but thank you." you mumble, a blush creeping up your cheeks again. He seems really happy to see you again. "All I had to do was the bang the employee? Should have done that sooner." you whisper to him making sure it is only for his ears.

"Shut up." he barks a laugh. "First computer on the second row is yours." he points in the direction of it.

"Wait, how does she get to use it for free?" a customer who just walked in behind you asks.

"None of your business." Joost is back to his usual demeanour, his eyes a reflection of being bored of the customer. "How can I help you?" he asks the guy.

You have finished the most important work you needed to do, looking up at the clock, you notice it is past midnight already, most of the customers went home, there is only you, Joost and a couple sharing a computer on the opposite side.

"Sir?" you call out in Joost's direction. "There is something wrong with this computer, can you check?"

His head immediately turns in your direction. "Um, sure." he walks up to you.

You point at the error which popped up. You know how to fix it yourself, and from the look he gives you, you are sure he knows that too. But plays along, catching up to your game. "Yes, let me check." he moves from standing next to you to reaching over behind you for the mouse and keyboard. His hand is covering the mouse over your hand, his skin feels starching hot on yours. His breath close to your ear, your stomach tightens over the simple close proximity to him.

"You are so good at this." you tell him, your voice innocent.

"Am I?"

"Yeah." you turn to face him, but he already fixed it and straightens up, leaving you so lonely.

"Thank you." your voice is quiet.

You finish the rest of your work and notice the couple has left. After waiting a couple more minutes to check if no one else comes in, you stand up and head towards Joost's desk. He is busy typing away, you linger next to him, when he finally looks up.

"Can we talk?" you ask tentatively.

He looks around the room, noticing it's just you left.

"Sure." he gives you his full attention now. "What happened?"

"Well. Nothing really, but that is the problem." you say not looking at him yet, mindlessly moving the things around at the top of his desk. "I know we don't each other yet, maybe the hookup meant nothing to you." you continue, he tries to interrupt, but you motion for him to wait. "But I would like to get to know you, move things forward. I do care about you more than just random sex, but I can't tell if you feel the same about me. You are kind of hard to read." you finally look up at him. He is looking at you intently, listening carefully to your confession.

The silence falls heavily between you, it weighs on you. Did you read this situation completely wrong, does have want nothing to do with you, before you can spiral any further, you hear his voice. "I also want to get to know you. Sorry if I left you in the unknown, I didn't mean that. I also didn't know if you want anything more. I was also so busy here, I am sorry." he says. "When you didn't come on your usual day, your usual hours-"

"You notice when I usually come here?"

"Ofcourse." he meets your eyes.

"I would love to ask you out on a date." he confesses. "Would- Would you go on a date with me?" he is also nervous, like you. It makes your heart melt.

"Yes."

Joost's gaze softened, his eyes roaming over your face with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. You walk around the desk, his eyes following your every move, he starts to stand up, but you push on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. You stand in between his legs and reach out to fix his hair, brushing the fallen out of place strands. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, he works so much. Your hand slips lower, tracing his cheekbone, his skin warm under your palm. He nuzzles closer to you, his eyes darken, not used to such tender touches, but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.

"Is this okay?" you ask him. So careful, the time feels like it has slowed down between you two. A contrast between how the first time went. "Yes."

You move to sit on his lap, he lets you, wrapping his hand around your waist, settling you in more comfortable, as he shifts under you.

"I really thought I might never see you again." he confesses, his voice barely audible, but you hear him.

Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you hold his gaze. “Kiss me, Joost,” you whisper, your voice a soft, desperate invitation.

Without another word, he closes the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There is no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveys every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss is soft and careful, full of warmth, he is tentative, but you lead him, showing you want him as much.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both share a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fuels the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.

This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, the Joost who likes to take control shining again. His hands grab your waist even harder, pulling you closer, his fingers splaying against your back. The gentle intimacy turns heated, your mouths exploring, you open your mouth, letting his tongue tease yours. You can feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, he groans against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try to pull away, but he chases you leaning in, not ready to separate yet, "Come here" his voice is low, breathless too, as he catches your lips in a kiss again. His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roam over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sends shivers down your spine, like it's the first time being alone in this room again. However this time you are sure he wants you as much as you want him. You gasp against his mouth, a sound that turns into a soft moan, each sound coming from you pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring, tasting. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.

Joost shifts under you, and you feel his hardness pressing against you, undeniable. Your lips begin to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You can feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you move lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Paying extra attention to the Lola Bunny tattoo on his neck, you hope to become friends with her and see her more often.

Each kiss seems to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leans into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. You find it intoxicating, the sound you are able to pull from him. You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest. His pulse beats beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallows hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.

"You are driving me crazy." he says, as you continue to kiss along his sensitive spot.

"You look so good like this." your words go straight to his dick. "I can't believe I finally get to have you like this."

"Fuck, baby. Don't say shit like this, I might just cum in my pants." he confesses tilting his head back, giving you even more access, closing his eyes, clearly enjoying your actions.

"Maybe I would like that." you let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness.

"What? Me cuming my pants?" his opens his eyes to look at you. You look up at him grinning, your hand finally reaches the waistband of his boxers, and you press your palm against him. "You are evil."

"You don't like that?" you remove your hand from him.

"Nonono." he repeats, putting your hand back right where it was. "I do." his breath hitches, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushes into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.

"I am enjoying myself too." you murmur, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Joost. I wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admit, voice a mix of admiration and desire.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he looses himself in every touch, every word you murmur against him. "More, please." he pleads, looking in the direction of the door. The cafe is still open to the public. It has been a quieter night than usual, but there is still a possibility someone might stumble in, but he is ready for the gamble, knowing you are too.

"God… that feels so good,” he gasps, as he looks, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roam up and down your back, and you can feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grows heavier. "You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses a kiss to your temple, his words urge you to move your hand around his cock faster, encouraging every word. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he speaks, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.

"Seeing that guy ask you out,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He pauses, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”

Hearing him say it out loud, the desire intertwined in every syllable, makes your head spin. Feeling he is fully hard under you now, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, his mouth falling open slightly at the realisation what you are doing for him. You maintain eye contact with him, as you feel the carpet dig into your knees, but you don't care, not when he looks at you like this.

"Fuck... you don't have to." he says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I want to." you say, and reach for his belt. "Do you want to?"

"Yes." he says it way too quick and it makes you giggle. He helps you undo the belt, lifting his hips to take off his pants.

You palm him through his underwear again, enjoying the delicious moan from him. You motion for him to take them off and he does. "Good boy." you purr and you swear you can see an actual sparkle in his eyes. Who would have thought the mean Internet Cafe employee, who everyone is so scared of, would be melting under your palm at a few words of praise. His cock jumps free from the confines of his boxers, but you don't give it the attention it craves so much. Not yet. Your hands drift up, playing with the hem of his shirt, your nails grazing his stomach lightly, sending a wave of heat coursing through his veins. A sharp exhale escapes him before he can stop it, his muscles tensing under your touch.

After feeling that you've teased him enough, you take his dick in your hands, the tip an angry shade of red, pre-cum spilling from the anticipation. Mixing it with your spit, you start to stroke him. You pay attention to alternating in pressure, swiping your thumb over his tip every time you passed it. Then you nuzzle against it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the side, your warm breath sending another shudder through him. You are savoring every inch before you begin. Only then your lips part, and you finally take him in. The first flick of your tongue sends a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine. He has to grip the desk, not to push his hips. Your lips wrap around him, slow and firm, dragging along his length with precision.

"Feels so good." he borderline whines looking down at you. "Keep going please." his hands find the back of your head, not pushing, just wanting to feel you.

Your tongue glides firmly along the underside, tracing every vein, your movements deliberate as you circle the tip before taking him in your mouth again, your lips stretching around his girth. The lewd sound of your lips smacking around you loud in the empty room, making his stomach tighten. You look up at him innocently, as you take more and more of him, your warm and wet mouth mixed with the view makes him almost lose his mind and cum on the spot. He has to lean his head back and concentrate not to end it too soon.

You are however relentless—taking him deeper each time, your spit slicking every inch of him. You bob your head with a slow, steady rhythm, a mix of suction and slippery, messy tongue work that makes his breath stutter.

Suddenly there is a noise of a door opening. His hand on your head gripping your hair, motioning for you to stop. You do, still with his cock in your mouth, you feel him sit up straighter, fixing his hair. There are footsteps coming closer, but luckily they can't see you from your position under the desk.

"Hello, can I print out a few things? Is there a working printer?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

Joost clears his throat. "Hello, yes. It's over there. How many copies?" his voice trying to hide the fact that your soft mouth is still wrapped around his length cockwarming him. The customer goes on a long tangent telling a story how the past few places had trouble with printing and he is walking all around town trying to make a copy of a document. Joost hums in approval listening to his story, one of his hands still wrapped tightly on your hair, making sure you don't get an idea of teasing him.

The customer walks over to the printer. "Call if you need any help." Joost tells him. You hope the customer can do it on his own.

As the footsteps grow quieter and further away, Joost releases his hand from your hair. You move away from him as quietly as possible, leaning your head on his thigh. He looks down at you, pressing a finger to his slips motioning for you to stay quiet and you nod.

You can hear the printer beeping and the customer settling in behind the computer. After awhile you start to get bored, as Joost got back to typing on the keyboard, probably pretending to work not to give away what was happening before. You start to press soft kisses along his thigh. He doesn't stop you, so you continue doing it almost with no sound, the buzz of the printer also helping to hide any noise. You get bolder and bite him, although not hard enough to produce the noise that comes out of him – too loud for how light the bite was. You lick over the spot, he looks down at you with raised eyebrows and you smile apologetically.

"Everything ok?" the customer asks.

"Oh. Yeah, all good." Joost replies. His voice shaky. "Just, um, you know, looking at prices. They seem to bite for real nowadays." the customer laughs at that and agrees. The printing noise continues.

You have to cover your mouth not to laugh at him too. After giving him a few minutes to recover, you continue pressing kisses along his thigh, inching closer to his neglected cock. He stiffens in his seat, but doesn't stop you, so you go further. You ghost your lips over the sensitive skin along his shaft, licking at the tip. His grip tightens over the mouse. You take him in your mouth, building a slow rhythm, not swallowing him too deep to avoid the noise, but enough to tease him. His breathing grows heavier and his big hand finds the back of your head again, his fingers weaving through your hair.

"Fuck. Stop stop." you hear him whisper quietly.

"All done?" you hear Joost say.

"Yep. Thank you so much." the customer replies. "Are you...alright?" he asks tentatively after a pause.

"Yes, I am totally fine. Tired probably. A long shift." he says with no waver in his voice, which makes the guy believe it, not wanting to ask any more questions.

The customer pays and you hear him leave.

"Shit." Joost exhales, his body relaxing. You are also glad he is finally gone. "You little devil." he looks down at you again. He brings you up from under the table and leans down to meet you halfway for a kiss. He groans still tasting himself on your mouth, he tilts your head to deepen the kiss, his cock twitching when you reach out to touch it. You break the kiss, "So sensitive." you whisper against his mouth.

"Get back to work." he leaves one last kiss on your lips and you take your place between his legs. There is a sense of urgency in the air, hoping no one else comes in.

You spit on his tip again, slow and deliberate, watching the saliva trail down before you gather it with your tongue and take him in your mouth once more. You deepen the rhythm, your mouth molding around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck with more urgency, a wet, obscene symphony filling the space beneath the desk. The slick sounds grow louder, more obscene, as spit pools and dribbles from the corners of your mouth, coating his length in a messy sheen.

You take him to the base, your throat clenching around him, a loud moan leaving his lips, before you pull back, eyes fluttering your breath labored. You let another thick strand of spit fall, your fingers smoothing it down as you stroke him with both hands, your grip greedy, insatiable. Then go back in, your nails digging lightly into his thigh, steadying yourself, like you're getting lost in it. You feel yourself get wet, your clit pulsing steadily, listening to his moans, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure, his heavy hand on the back of your head.

"You like it, huh?" he asks, his chest heaving up and down. You hum around him, the vibrations sending an additional wave of pleasure for him. "So pretty on your knees for me." he brushes away a tear, which falls down your cheek.

He presses you down just a little more. "Can I do this?" he asks and you moan in approval, nodding. Your throat tightens as he pushes you deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He keeps you there for a moment, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Fuck.." he exhales and lets go off you.

You wrap your hand around his slick length. Your strokes are slow, loud, your fingers working him with a deliberate pace. Looking up at him from under the desk, you look utterly wrecked—lips swollen and slick, spit trailing down your chin, eyes glassy and dark with hunger. He thinks you look like a dream, he is already planning the date in the back of his head, he wants to wake up next to you, he even imagines growing old with you, which he never did before. You pant softly, your breath shaky, as both hands work him with slow, messy strokes, your fingers coated in the evidence of your own devotion.

His thighs tremble as you keep stroking, your grip firm, fingers gliding over his slick length with a slow, almost lazy confidence. His breath is uneven, hot, moans slipping past his lips, same as your own, as if you are lost in the act itself, dazed by the sensation of having him in your hands. Your palm twists just right as you drag it up and down. Your eyes stay locked on his, a smirk on your pretty face. You lick over his tip and wrap your lips around him, sucking, bobbing your head up and down.

His body tenses as your throat tightens around him, your free hand rolling his balls in your palm as you move up and down with an unrelenting pace. Your movements are fast, ruthless, each descent pushing him deeper into your throat. His moans turn breathier, more frantic. Your tongue presses against the underside, rubbing against that sensitive spot as your lips stretch around his girth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, spit dripping from your chin, but you don't stop determined to take him to completion.

His head tips back, mouth falling open in a loud moan as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. Pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, blinding, unstoppable. His muscles go taut, as he cums deep inside you, and you moan around him, swallowing greedily as if you're desperate for every last drop. The thick warmth shoots down your throat, and you take it all effortlessly, your lips sealed tight, sucking him through every wave.

You take your mouth off of him, your own breathing heavy. You leave a few more kisses on his thigh, helping him come back to his senses.

"That was... incredible. You are incredible." he says, pulling you back onto his lap. He takes a tissue from his desk and wipes gently at your lips.

You lay your head on his shoulder, as he puts his pants back on and wraps his hands around you. "Can I take you home? My shift ends soon." he asks carefully, nervously.

You lift your head looking up at him. "Yes."

He did take you home and fucked you until you couldn't take his touch anymore, his attention fixated on your pleasure alone. And you kept coming back to his place, months later it becoming a part of you, as much as it is for him. Your lives gradually intertwining more and more, learning how to be the best for each other.

You hear your alarm clock go off, reaching out to turn it off. Joost groans beside you, he only recently came back home after his shift, but it is already time for you to start getting ready for work. You feel his arm wrap tighter around you, his chest pressed tight around your back, as if he could be any closer to you.

"I need to get up, Joost." you try to peal yourself off of him.

"Just 5 more minutes, please." he feels like he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. He always feels so cold without you in his bed. He can't even remember how his life was without you in it. Your warmth seems to have fix everything.

He nuzzles closer to you, burying his head into your neck. You turn in his embrace, kissing him slowly, he immediately reacts and returns the kiss.

"How soon do you have to leave at the latest?" he asks.

"We have like.. 10 minutes max." you say. You really can't be late again. It is always the same with him when it is a night shift for him – he comes back late, you have to leave early. He wants to cuddle for 5 more minutes, which turns into something more, but you don't complain, you can't get enough of him too.

"Perfect." you feel him smile against your neck.

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 3

Chapter three - Raspberry

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Sorry it took so long to update this. I tagged everyone who showed interest in future parts and/or asked to be tagged. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

Jamie sleeps like a rock. It’s a new discovery for (Y/N) as she tries to unravel herself from his tight grip. She doesn’t remember falling asleep cuddled up to each other, in fact, she doesn’t remember falling asleep at all. It’s like one moment they were talking about the baby and the next she wakes up to the sun pouring in through the window and Jamie’s quiet snores filling the room. And his arms wrapped around her like a vice. 

God that man is clingy. 

And, whereas with any other man, this would scare her off, there is something about Jamie that makes the whole thing endearing.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are not dating, not even trying to. It takes some of the pressure off. All she has to be is a good mum and a good friend and while those two things are hard enough as they are, at least there are no romantic feelings involved, no expectations to uphold when it comes to being a girlfriend, a partner. 

Jamie sleeps like a rock, doesn’t even so much as twitch when she slips from his grip and rests his arm back on the side of the bed she used to occupy just moments earlier. Even the squeaky floorboard doesn’t wake him as she makes her way downstairs. 

A sweet smell permeates the air and makes (Y/N)’s mouth water. This heightened sense of smell is both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. Most smells make her nauseous these days. Not today though, this one just makes her hungry. It smells of sugar and vanilla and all things sweet and warm.

Simon’s smiling face greets her as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. She wonders if this man ever stops smiling. He’s the personification of a ray of sunshine.

“Good morning, come have a seat. I’m making waffles.” 

Waffles. (Y/N) can’t remember the last time someone made her waffles for breakfast. Dad did, sometimes when she was little, and stayed with him for the weekend. But then the waffle iron broke and he never got around to buying a new one. So pancakes and bacon it was. Beans sometimes. Sausages if he was feeling particularly fancy.

“I’d love some, thank you! It smells amazing.” 

“Yeah? Oh, thank god. I was afraid the smell would be too much and make you feel sick. Only realized that after I poured in half the vial of vanilla essence though.” 

The sheepish look on his face puts a smile on (Y/N)’s face. It’s nice someone cares about those little things.

“Never had to deal with anyone pregnant so I don’t know these things but I had a quick Google last night and it says 8 weeks means a heightened sense of smell. Also, the baby is the size of a Raspberry.” 

If she didn’t know any better, (Y/N) would swear that Jamie and Simon must share some DNA. Both of them so clumsy in the way they care but infinitely endearing. 

“Yeah, Raspberry or Blueberry or Kidney Bean. So tiny." 

“Crazy isn’t it? To think it’s gonna be a proper human soon enough.” 

She nods her head in agreement as Simon places a plate stacked with two thick fluffy waffles before her. 

“You’re telling me. I know this is all happening inside my body and it’s still insane to think about. Doesn’t feel real.” 

Simon regards her with soft eyes. There is warmth in there but something else. Something she can’t quite place. Georgie had the same look last night. Like they know more than she does. And fuck, maybe they do. They’ve done this before. Lived enough of life to know what the hell they are doing. 

“Are you alright? “

(Y/N) was never big on sharing her feelings with anyone, let alone strangers. Life, and both her parents really, have taught her that talking about your feelings only makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable usually ends in pain. So what you do is you take your insecurities, your fears, your sadness and you put it in a tiny little box and then you put on the lid. You tie a ribbon around it with a neat bow on top and then you take that box that holds your feelings and you bury it. And then you spend your whole life living like the protagonist in an Edgar Allan Poe story and that box becomes a beating heart under the floorboards of your life. 

And the beating never ever stops. 

“Sure. I’m good.” 

She thinks he knows she’s bluffing but lets it go anyway. Opening up to Jamie is scary enough, takes up enough of her bravery. Simon is lovely and if she was another person altogether she’d love to share her worries with him, he seems like the best listener. She’s not someone else though, she is just herself and she can’t bring herself to talk. 

“Okay. Just want you to know that if you need anything or — anyone. Georgie and I are always there to help. I know I’m not Jamie’s real dad but I do feel like that is my son. I don’t have children of my own and I only met Jamie when he was a pre-teen already so I don’t know much about babies but if you guys let me I am sure I can be a phenomenal grandad. My mum always used to say I was already born a little old man so this feels like I finally get a chance to be what I was always supposed to be. My time to shine has come.” 

A harmony of their laughter fills the kitchen. God, is this whole family made up of the sweetest people on this entire planet? Do they make them in a damn factory or something?

“I will hold you to it. When the baby is screaming and I need some sleep I’ll come drop them off with you then.” 

“Oh, I’ll be ready with some bedtime stories and lullabies.” 

“You are sweet, Simon. And I really appreciate the offer. God knows Jamie and I don’t know the first thing about being parents so we can take all the help we can get.” 

“Do you want to hear a secret?” 

“Sure.” 

“No one knows what they’re doing. As long as you try your best that’s all that matters. Kids are forgiving if they know you care.” 

People always say that but there’s a little part of (Y/N) that believes those words to be untrue. Did her mum try her best and this was the outcome? Or did she just not care to do more, to be better? And which of those scenarios would be worse? 

Jamie’s sleepy voice pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. “Morning, love.” 

He places a soft kiss on the top of her head. So sure, so unbothered as if they do this all the time. Is this what it feels like? Being able to show your feelings and show affection without wondering what consequences it may bring? Without fearing that it makes you too vulnerable? 

His hand finds her stomach and gives it a soft rub “And good morning to you, baby.” 

It will never not be endearing to her to hear him talk to the baby. And neither will the way he pronounces the word ever lose its magic to her. That is his pride and joy there. His babeh. 

“Aw Waffles, sweet!” 

As Jamie plops down next to Simon and stuffs his face with vanilla waffles, leaving a slight dust of powdered sugar on his lips, (Y/N) is certain that all his worries are unjustified. 

Jamie is all his dad and none of his father. Every inch and every fiber of him is a product of the love that Georgie and Simon have raised him with. He is them in the way he smiles and cares and the way he feels joy so freely and unabashedly.

And if only a smidge, only a sprinkle of that love is extended towards her child, that kid is gonna grow up so adored it won’t know where to put all of that love. 

“Think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Like pregnancy barf or meeting mum nausea? “

Leave it to Jamie to put a smile on her face even when the world around her seems to crumble and fall. 

“You gotta stop calling it that.” 

“Alright, but you have to tell me which one it is so I know if I should hand you a barf bag or give you a pep talk. I’m getting awfully good at them if I dare say so myself. Learned a lot from Ted, yeah?” 

If this was just the pregnancy making her nauseous everything would be so much easier. Ginger drops and rest would do the trick. But this is so much worse. This sharp feeling cursing through her veins, gnawing at her bones and devouring her like a hungry wolf. There truly is no one capable of breaking your heart like your own mother.

“Let me hear that pep talk then.” 

As he navigates the car up the long driveway, flanked by big ornate mansions with brass iron fences and perfectly symmetrical hedges, Jamie regards (Y/N) from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, well you don’t need to worry. Things are gonna be just fine. You know why?” 

“Why?” 

“Cause mums love me and middle-aged women love me. It’s cause they think I’m charming,” he says and glances at (Y/N) for a second. That radiant cheeky smile of his taking over his features. Oh, she hopes their kid gets his smile. “Which I am.” 

“So charming, really.” 

“You’d know,” Jamie replies and nods his head in the direction of her belly.

His laughter echoes through the car as she gives him a soft slap against the shoulder. There’s just something about Jamie that makes life feel a little lighter, a little more effortless. Even if it's just for a moment, just pretend. It does take the heavy weight off of (Y/N)’s heart for a second. 

The car rolls to a stop in front of the gorgeous white house (Y/N) pointed out to him when they turned into the street. The lawn looks immaculate, the hedges are trimmed to perfection. This plastic palace all grand and gaudy. It never felt like home even though (Y/N) spent most of her life growing up in these very halls. 

But really what is it that makes a house a home? Love and laughter and memories you want to return to. This is just four walls and a roof. 

“Hey,” Jamie speaks up and places a hand gently on hers. “It’ll be alright but even if it won’t it will.” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean — look if she reacts badly, that sucks. But you have me, yeah? Always. Me and Rebecca and my Mum and Simon. Once we tell them I know the team will be obsessed with our baby, they’ll love her so much.” 

“Or him.” 

“Or him, yes. Ted is going to freak out, I know he’s going to want to hang out with our kid all the time. Roy? He’s already the best old geriatric uncle the world has ever seen. He won’t admit it but he’ll be really happy for us. Sam, Issac, Keeley, Higgins? All of them will be just a call away if we need help. I’m not sure about coach Beard though, he scares me not gonna lie.” 

“I think he’s hilarious actually.” 

“It’s because you’re smart and understand his jokes.” 

“You’re smart too!” 

“Nah, I just talk a lot and hope I end up saying the right thing. Anyway, what I mean is, this is your mum, yes, but in the big picture, she is just one person. And if she doesn’t love our baby there are so many other people who will. This baby will never, not for one second have to wonder if they are loved, because they are. So much.” 

And as easy as it is for him to make (Y/N) laugh, as easy it seems to be to make her cry. Good tears though. Tears that say “I believe you that things are going to be alright”. Tears that say “thank you.”

“Jamie Tartt, of all the footballers that could’ve accidentally knocked me up, I am so glad it was you. You are going to be the best dad.” 

“And you’re already the best mum. Well tied with my mum, obviously.” 

“Obviously.” 

(Y/N)’s childhood home feels cold, Jamie notices. There are hardly any pictures and those that are there are posed and awkward. He can tell it’s (Y/N) on those pictures but they don’t feel like her. There is no happiness in them, no joy. None of that sarcastic charm she exudes. He passes by a lifetime of being told how to sit and how to smile and what to do and probably what to say as well. It makes him feel miserable. And it puts things into perspective. It makes sense now, her worries and fears. If you grow up surrounded by nothing but the cold you eventually start wondering if you’ll ever be capable of creating warmth.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” (Y/N)'s Mum asks as she sits down at the head of the table. There’s something scary about this woman. She demands attention like a god-given right. She extends nothing in return. Her eyes are sharp and intense. It makes Jamie feel like she can see right through him down to all his insecurities and faults. She’s fucking terrifying. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

He hates the way (Y/N)’s voice has become so small and timid ever since they stepped foot into this mansion. Hates that there is nothing he can do to make it better and take this weight off of her. Nothing but be there. So he does that at least. Be there in all the ways he can be.

It’s so silly really, how his heart beats just a little faster when he touches her hand underneath the table. When she welcomes the soft gesture. When she returns his gentle squeeze. And when she links her fingers with his. 

So silly. Stupid little treacherous heart.

“Well, I gathered that much. I just wish you would’ve called ahead of time so I could’ve made some food.” 

“Made some food? Since when do you cook?”

The look her mother throws at (Y/N) could freeze a lake solid. It’s mean and chilling and Jamie wishes he never would’ve pushed (Y/N) to come here. Hates himself a little for putting her in this situation.

“I did attend several cooking classes last year. See, if you’d visit me a bit more often you’d know that.” 

And if she wasn’t such a raging bitch, maybe (Y/N) would visit her more often, Jamie thinks. Fortunately, he’s gotten much better at impulse control lately, well ever since Ted arrived really. The old Jamie would’ve blurted out those thoughts with no care of any consequences.

The old Jamie probably wouldn’t have stepped up to be a dad though. 

“Anyway, I would’ve liked a little warning. Especially if you’re bringing someone.” 

Being at the receiving end of that icy glare feels awful, Jamie decides as (Y/N)’s mother regards him with a mix of disdain and humor. Her eyes sparkle with a sense of smug superiority. Jamie is used to people underestimating him. They think he’s stupid. Some dumb footballer with straw filling the places where a brain should be. Quite honestly it doesn’t bother him, never had. He’s the first to admit that he can be dumb when it comes to certain things. He’s no poet and he has never been particularly good at math. But this woman and the way she looks at him rubs him the wrong way. She knows nothing about him and yet she thinks she’s got him all figured out. Flesh and bones and all. 

“Yeah uh, sorry about that. It was a spontaneous thing really. We would’ve called — “

“Sure, whatever you say. James was it?” 

His name sounds like venom dripping from her lips. James. He hasn’t been James since the moment he was born and Georgie first kissed his tiny head and whispered “You’re my little Jamie.” Not that he remembers that but it’s a story his mom has recounted to him many times.

“Jamie, yes.” 

“Right, Jamie.”

An uncomfortable silence settles upon the room. It crawls into the cracks and crevices of their conversation. It spreads and festers and discomfort grows around them like mold on damp walls. 

“Mum, we’re here because I wanted to tell you I’m pregnant.” 

The confession shoots through the silence like a bullet. Cuts through it like a knife through a flimsy ribbon. If this was a movie they’d put in a freeze frame or underlay the scene with some dramatic musical score. But this is real life and it comes with no editing and no soundtrack.

No, it just comes with a bellowing laugh from (Y/N)’s mother. It’s not the kind of laughter that makes you want to laugh along. The kind that makes you feel like sunshine has erupted inside your ribcage and wraps you in a warm blanket. It’s not like (Y/N)’s laugh. This one is mocking. It’s ridiculous. It’s meant to make you feel small and dumb. It breaks his heart to know this is the laughter (Y/N) grew up with. 

“You can not be serious. Pregnant?” 

A short, quiet “Yes.” leaves (Y/N)’s lips. Jamie gently squeezes her hand in return. I am here. He says. I will always be here. She squeezes back. He hopes it means “I know.”

“You stupid little girl.” 

(Y/N)’s hand grabs his more tightly. A lifeline to hold on to. Crescent moon shapes stamped into his skin. But if this is the price he’ll have to pay in order to be a good partner in all of this then he’ll pay it 10 times over. Of all the things in this world, all the ways to describe her, stupid is not one Jamie would ever think of. 

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.” 

Maybe a little bit of old Jamie is still there. The good parts. The protective, opinionated parts maybe. Not reckless but brave.

“She is my daughter and I will talk to her as I very well please. But you’re right. She is not a little girl, she’s a grown woman. Which makes this even worse. You should know better, (Y/N). Getting pregnant by some — some guy.”

“Some guy? Excuse me?” 

“Well you’re not her boyfriend, are you? You are just some guy with no obligation to her. And if you wake up one day and realize what a massive mistake you made then you can just leave. She’ll be stuck being a mother forever.” 

It boils his blood to hear those vicious words hurled at him and (Y/N). Mistake? Sure this baby wasn’t planned but they’re not a mistake. Not for one single second did Jamie think of his child as a mistake. A surprise. A shock even. But never a mistake.

“I know you don’t know me and quite honestly I don’t think I want to know you either but I can tell you one thing. That is my baby and I love it now and I will always love it. It is not a mistake. You can judge me, you can judge her and you can judge our decisions but stop talking about my child like that. That is just uncalled for. I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you but I was here from the moment (Y/N) told me she was pregnant and I will be here for the rest of my life. That is a promise.” 

She has the audacity to scoff at him and completely ignore everything he just said. Instead, she moves her cold hard gaze towards (Y/N).

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations? Well, you’re not getting those here. Your father would be so — “ 

Before she can finish the sentence a shrill screeching sound cuts her off as (Y/N) pushes away from the dining table.

“I gotta get out of here.” 

“Oh, what is this now? You’re just going to leave because you don’t get the reaction you hoped for? I can pretend if that’s what you want me to —”

“Mum, I am not running. I need to go! I am nauseous as fuck and if you don’t want me to empty my stomach onto your dining table just let me leave. I didn’t come here asking for your approval, I just thought you should know you’re going to be a grandmother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go throw up in your bushes.” 

Jamie is hot on her heels, grabbing both their jackets and (Y/N)’s bag in the process as he rushes after her. Though even in the chaos and hurry he doesn’t miss the look of absolute shock and bewilderment on the older woman’s face. It feels like a small victory but it does paint a little smile on his lips.

“Oh don’t do that. I’m disgusting.” 

“I’ll be watching you push out a whole damn baby. This is nothing compared to that.” 

If it weren’t such an absurd situation, that comment probably would’ve sent her spiraling but really it’s the least confusing part of today. Of course, Jamie wants to be around for the birth. Now that he mentioned it, (Y/N) thinks she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, he’ll be there. He’s been there for it all so far of course he’ll be there when the baby enters this world.

It’s almost a little dreamy and magical to think about. Almost. Because life doesn’t let her think too much about it before it sends another wave of vomit up her esophagus. 

“I don’t mind holding your hair while you puke, you're growing a whole human it’s the least I can do. But I gotta ask you something.” 

“What’s that?” (Y/N) asks and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. Desperate times, desperate measures. At least that’s how she tries to justify it to herself.

“Is that hedge purposely cut to look like a dick?” 

He nods towards one of the boxwood trees at the edge of the property that (Y/N) has no doubt her mother hired a gardener to trim and shape and care for. 

“Holy shit, it does.” 

“And cut too. You think your mum knows?” 

And suddenly the nausea is gone and forgotten about and in its place, a flurry of giggles takes over. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Jamie asks once they both calm down a little.

Is she okay? Not really but this too will pass and it’s not like she expected anything else from her mother. Ever since (Y/N) was a little kid she remembers her mother dulling all her joy and whimsy. Why should things be different now? 

“No. But I will be.” and when he takes her hand in his and places a soft kiss on her knuckles, for the first time since turning into this very street, she truly believes in those words.

“Good. Now do you wanna go home or do something else?” 

“Home sounds good but uh — do you want to stay? Watch a movie or something? I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Another kiss to her knuckles sends her heart into a little frenzy. Teeny tiny somersaults all around her ribcage.

“Yeah, can I pick? “

“Fuck no.”

“Alright, was worth a try.”

“It was a dream? That’s it?”

The ending credits to The Wizard of Oz play on her little TV screen as (Y/N) and Jamie sit on her couch, a bowl of microwave popcorn long devoured and now empty resting between them.

“I mean, you can interpret it however you want.” 

“Meh, didn’t like that one very much. Next time we should watch the Muppets treasure island. That’s a good one.” 

There truly is something so sweetly endearing about Jamie’s childlike qualities. His unintentional goofiness and his ability to make even the worst day turn into an okay one. An “all in all kinda good” one.

“Okay, fine. Next time we’ll watch the Muppets. It just — my dad had the Wizard of Oz on DVD. One of the few movies he had. So whenever I’d stay with him we’d watch it together. I think I just wanted to feel close to him today.” 

“Hey,” Jamie chimes up and gently nudges her shoulder with his. “I didn’t know your dad but from what you said about him he seemed like a fun guy. A good guy. So I think your mum is wrong. He’d be proud of you. I know that.”

And for the second time that day (Y/N) thanks whatever cosmic power there is for putting Jamie in her life. For making him the person who goes through all of this alongside her. For making him her partner in this crazy adventure. For making him the father of her child.

“Thanks, Jamie. I really appreciate that you stood up for me and the baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just froze. Every time I talk to her I want to say so many things but they get stuck somewhere on the way from my brain to my mouth.” 

“It’s okay, I get it. It’s like that with my dad too. We’ll just have to be each other’s voices then I guess.” 

“That sounds like a good plan to me.” 

He does it again then, that tiny insignificant kiss on the top of her head. It means nothing.

But it means everything.

“Hey uh — I’m not really tired yet. Do you wanna start that Muppets movie now?”

“Uh yeah? Absolutely. I’ll never say no to Kermit. He is THE frog.” 

Just a little while later, while Kermit and Miss Piggy sing a love song on screen while hanging off a cliff, (Y/N)’s eyes fall shut, her head resting gently against Jamie’s shoulder. 

For the second time in less than 24 hours (Y/N) falls asleep in Jamie’s arms. And though she might not realize it right then, she has never felt more safe and secure ever before.

Maybe things really will be alright.

“Now I know that life can take you by surprise, And sweep you off your feet. Did this happen to us, Or are we just dreaming? Love led us here.”

@captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy - @zbeez-outlet - @burnafter-reading - @britbratface - @labellapeaky - @mavisvermillion-first - @ladygrey03 - @charlesgirl16 - @cantbecreative - @nerdgirljen - @qardasngan - @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt2. || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

[kiplex]

☆.｡.:*　Miscommunication .｡.:*☆

Caleb x F! MC SFW , a tad suggestive Word count: 1423 Tags: A tiny bit of angst, a lil fighting, Caleb being insensitive, resolved angst, Tara is a good friend, breaking and entering???, some smooches, use of "pips" A/N: OMG not me writing more Caleb stuff, and still no smut what are we doing!? I promise I have some smut in the works for Caleb as well as something cute and maybe smutty for Sylus's birthday! My requests are open if you feel like giving me something to write about!!

Caleb doesn’t have the best record for time management for someone who literally commands a fleet for a living. The two of you haven't had much time for each other recently so you took a long weekend off of work to go be in Skyhaven with him, he knew you were coming. So imagine your shock when you get to his apartment expecting to see your overly excited boyfriend, but instead are met with the quiet stillness of his empty apartment. You poke your head into the kitchen, and spot the hastily written note on the counter.

“ Got called in to be Captain Caleb today, sorry Pips. I’ll be home by tomorrow night, Sunday morning at the very latest! Made some braised chicken wings for my favorite chicken wing <3 “

-Caleb

You pinch the bridge of your nose letting out a frustrated sigh. He could’ve had the decency to at least text you, at the very bare minimum… You took planned time off, you assumed he did the same but of course, he’s the Captain of the Fleet, those rules don’t really apply to him. Regardless you’re just upset, you now; at the most, have a full day with your boyfriend who you barely get time with. You whip out your phone to call him.

…

…

…

No answer. 

Fine, that's to be expected. He’s working after all. You’re about to dial him again but he texts you first.

Caleb: Hey pretty girl! I’m assuming you made it safe and sound?

Y/N: Yep. Made it to Skyhaven, a little pissed you didn’t text me or call me to tell me you wont be here for the majority of a weekend we were supposed to be together…

Caleb: I’m sorry!!! Hopefully those chicken wings make up for it :p I won’t be gone all weekend though! 

Y/N: I know, I would’ve left Linkon tomorrow if I knew you weren’t gonna be here tonight. I wanted to see you.

…

It's kinda lonely without you.

Caleb: It’s not like you’ve never been left alone before lol, just chill out and I'll see you hopefully tomorrow night! 

“Chill and I'll see you tomorrow”!? He isn’t here to see his girlfriend and his response is “Chill I’ll see you tomorrow”??? Maybe he had an apple core where his stupid brain should be because he didn’t just tell you to chill. 

Y/N: I take time out of my schedule which is also very busy to come see you, you don’t get to tell me to chill. I’m going home. I’lll see you when your brain starts working again Caleb.

 Your phone pings a couple times in a row, a few “I'm sorries” and “don’t leaves”, but you don’t respond, you'll only have mean things to say back and neither of you needed right now. You grab your stuff which is still conveniently located at the front of the entrance and head back to Linkon. All you want is to sleep in your own bed.

You arrive at the train station in Linkon late, luckily Tara was able to come pick you up. 

“Hey girl!! Do you want me to ask or do you not want to talk about it?” She asks helping you with your bags. “I really.. I just don’t wanna talk about it.” You say, shaking your head with a small sigh. Tara pats you on the back gently. “That’s fine, I won’t push. Buuut if you need him killed just know I got your back.” She smiles, sometimes you forget how truly terrifying the bonds of friendship are. 

Tara drops you off at your apartment and you give her a hug. “ I owe you one, lunch on me next week!” “ I’ll never turn down a free lunch hehe, I’ll see you next week, text me if you need me!” Tara waves to you as she drives away.

You flick on the lights of your apartment, sighing as you drag your bags into the entryway. When you look up into your living room, you  nearly jump out of your skin when you see Caleb sitting on your couch. He doesn’t even look up at you when you let out something in between a scream and a “Huh?” he just sits there, thumbing the page of some catalog you got in the mail that afternoon. You quickly compose yourself. “So what you’re just gunna show up in my fucking living room like a psychopath?” His grip on the pages tighten along with the furrow in his brows. “I’m the psychopath!? My girlfriend who was supposed to be safe at my apartment, leaves abruptly while I'm away and isn’t responding to my texts. God forbid I'm a good boyfriend who worries!” He stands up from the couch tossing the magazine aggressively on your coffee table. “Also you need to strengthen the security on this place, I broke in through the window.” He folds his arms sulking, not entirely grasping the situation at hand.

You rub your temples. “You have the passcode to my apartment- you know what that isn’t the point right now. Caleb why are you even here? Are you supposed to be working?? That’s the whole reason we’re fighting in the first place.” Caleb scoffs. “As soon as you stopped answering my texts I took one of the ships and came over here. I’m technically supposed to be overseeing operations right now but I physically couldn’t focus because someone decided to go awol.” Caleb walks over to the entryway, his fists clenching and unclenching, a nervous tick he's had since you guys were young.  “I don’t think you understand how worried I was about you. You can’t just leave suddenly like that!” He says, grasping your shoulders. “No, I don't think you’re understanding the situation! I left because you were being a dick! I took time off of work to spend time with you, and I’m really disappointed you aren’t getting that this was a big deal to me, and when I expressed that to you, you acted like you didn't care!” You shout at tears welling in the corner of your eyes. 

Caleb recoils a bit at your tone of voice, his grip stuttering on your shoulders. “Pips… I didn’t mean to brush off your feelings like that. Believe me, this is the last thing I wanted to be doing. Working and fighting with you… This wasn't how it was supposed to go this weekend.” He removes his hands from your shoulders and wraps you into a hug, breathing in your scent deeply when you reluctantly wrap your arms around him too. “I was being a dick, but we both know work isn't something i can just say no to, however i should’ve let you know I'll admit that wasn’t the brightest idea I've had.” You sigh, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I’m sorry too, I was just upset because I couldn't spend time with you. If you ever speak to me like that again though, you better count your days.” He chuckles both of your bodies moving with the vibration from it. “Right right, I’ll be more considerate next time.” 

He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. “Can I kiss you, or are you gunna bite my head off…?” His eyes flick to your lips. “Because, I really wanna kiss you.” You roll your eyes, pulling him down to your lips giving him a gentle kiss. “I already forgave you idiot.” He cracks a small smile before kissing you again. His hands sliding against the curve of your back, pulling you in a little deeper. “Good because I think if you yelled at me anymore I would've tackled you and you would’ve been more upset with me.” “You’re a freak you know that?” You kiss him again. “Mmm but I'm your freak.” He smiles smugly into the kiss.

Eventually you pull apart. “I’m guessing you have to dash off back to work now, right Colonel?” He shoots you a guilty look, before bringing on your hands to his mouth, kissing the back tenderly. “Unfortunately yes, however I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow, when you and I are both in Skyhaven.” You roll your eyes, the faintest smirk on your lips. “Oh yeah? How do you plan on making it up to me, hmm?” He grins. “You’ll just have to see, won’t you princess?” He pulls you in one last time kissing the junction where your ear meets your neck. “I guess I will.” 

[bluebeary-jay]

Midnight kisses

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)

Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in a full swing.

You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.

Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Joel Miller.

He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...

“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.

“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”

Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.

“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”

“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”

“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”

“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”

“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”

You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”

“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”

“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”

“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”

You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.

“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”

“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”

“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”

“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”

Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.

“He’s coming here.”

“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”

“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”

You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.

Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”

“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”

A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.

“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”

“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.

Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…

“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.

“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”

All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.

“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”

“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”

Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”

Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”

“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”

“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”

“And dancing,” you cut in.

Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.

“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.

“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”

But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”

“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”

“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”

“Like what?”

Of course, you just had to ask.

Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.

“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”

You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…

But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”

At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.

“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”

“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”

“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”

He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”

“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“No.”

“You act like you are.”

“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”

“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.

“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”

His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.

But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”

The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.

“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.

“And my name, sugar.”

You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.

“Okay, Joel.”

His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.

Lord, have mercy.

You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.

“I… Joel…”

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”

How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”

You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.

“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”

“No, but–”

“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”

Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.

“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.

“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”

It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.

“A date?”

He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?

“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”

That you couldn’t listen to.

Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.

“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.

He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.

You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.

You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.

He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.

But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…

No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.

Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.

You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.

As well as a gaping hole in your heart.

*****

A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.

“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”

“You’re not ruining anythi–”

“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”

Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”

“I promise. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.

This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.

Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”

You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.

The last person you expected to see here.

“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”

“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”

“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”

“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”

He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”

“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”

“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”

“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”

Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.

Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.

“...what?”

“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”

He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.

You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.

“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”

He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.

“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”

“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”

Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.

So you just nodded.

And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.

It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.

You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”

You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.

“Please, don’t stop.”

Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.

“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”

“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”

“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.

“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”

He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.

“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”

Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.

“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”

You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter One

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @ursinaw  @thisisafish123 and @cenatour wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me!

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Thank you for everyone on Tumblr and Quotev for guessing! A lot of you have gotten ones right but there no one's gotten all of Heartslaybul (which makes me worry I did badly there)

Now, onto the Hyenas, Lions, and Wolves!

Prologue here

Next chapter here

—----------------------------------

Since the wolves were right across from the lions and hyenas, you would be expected to divide your time equally between the two for your first official day at The Halfling Zoo. That was a pain, since all three of those species were more active at night. 

“You’ll be doing today’s morning feedings, right?” a woman in the zoo’s uniform asked you.

“Yes, for the lions, hyenas, and wolves,” you replied cheerfully.

The woman gave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness- the lions always look like they’re about to kill you if you make the wrong move. Good luck!”

You stared blankly at her retreating figure. You really wish she hadn’t said that, because now you were absolutely terrified to step foot in that enclosure. Mr. Crowley had said to you yesterday, among all the other welcoming ramblings, that you had to go into each exhibit and give the food directly to the halflings, as opposed to leaving the food near the door and waiting for them to come and grab it.

After the zoo keeper’s “encouraging” words, you decided to give food to the hyenas first.

The hyena halflings were easy to spot- the group of seven or so male halflings sat in a group, talking and laughing loudly. There was one boy in the center of the crowd, waving his hands emphatically as he conversed with his peers.

As soon as you approached the hyena halflings, the mood immediately shifted. The halflings took several steps back, the conversation ceasing at once, all of them staring at you through weary, distrustful eyes.

That’s right- male hyenas are submissive toward females since they are usually aggressive and stronger.

“It’s alright!” you tried to speak as soothingly as possible, putting down the bucket of steaks so you could raise your palms in a non-threatening manner. They watched you carefully, still distrustful.

Finally, the boy from the center of the crowd put his hands behind his head and strolled up nonchalantly, grabbing a steak from the bucket. Although he acted like it was no big deal, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a fearful gaze and skirted around you as though you might explode at any moment. 

The other hyena halflings caught on and, walking around you with extreme caution, they managed to fish their meals out of the bucket. The hyena from before came back for a second steak and, not long after, for a third. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him as he fished around for the best steak left in the bucket.

He stopped searching and turned his gaze on you once more. He seemed to size you up for a moment before saying something softly. “What was that?” you asked.

“Ruggie,” he said softly, his ears turning inwards and an annoyed pout making its way to his face.

“I like that name!” you said cheerily. Ruggie eyed you dubiously and finally pulled a steak from the bucket, racing back to the other hyenas. On his way, he looked over his shoulder at you, his gaze uncertain.

You felt like you had made progress.

Now it was time to feed the lions, and the thought made your feet feel like lead. You were not looking forward to a lion halfling murdering you over a steak. 

A part of you wondered if some of the halflings really did prefer this life- or at least, the food. You had learned in class that halflings preferred to eat human food, although they could stomach their animal counterpart’s diet. Halflings, no doubt, preferred these still-warm cooked steaks over raw meat.

You picked up the bucket of steaks and began your journey across the faux savannah. It really was hot in the exhibit and the heavy bucket seemed to weigh you down considerably. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you found it even harder to push yourself across the distance to the lions.

When you finally arrived in front of them, you could feel yourself trembling in fear. In a shaky voice, you called out, “Who wants steaks?”

All of the lions’ eyes turned immediately to the lion halfling lounging across the rock above them. Ah, I get it. They won’t eat until he eats.

Slowly you approached him. You weren’t sure if he was awake until one green eye cracked open and lazily regarded you. You gulped and reached into the bucket, closing your hands around a steak and holding it out to him. He remained lying there, but his eye closed once more.

You began to set the steak next to him when blinding pain shot up your arm, causing you to promptly drop it on the rock. You looked down and saw that the back of your hand was bleeding from four long streaks. The king of the lions was now sitting up, glaring at you, blood dripping from the claws of his right hand.

“How dare you approach me so casually?” he snarled.

You weren’t sure what to do, so you sank into a bow, and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

The lion gazed down at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his eyes. He laid back down, closing his eyes, “Whatever. The rest of you can eat.”

Lions rushed forward, clamoring around the bucket to get the best steaks. The lion on the rock did not reach for his own steak, choosing instead to go back to sleep. You were sorry you disturbed him, and not only because you were now nursing a heavily bleeding hand. The wound was surprisingly deep and you hoped that they had a first aid kit in the office.

A very small lion cub halfling with red hair bounced up to you. Your heart instantly melted at the sight of such an adorable little thing grabbing a steak and smiling up at you. So cute!

“Uncle Leona! Uncle Leona! Are you going to eat your steak or can I have it?” the little halfling asked the lion on the rock.

The lion- Leona, you guessed- glared down at the cub and snatched the steak out of the his reach with a warning growl. While the guttural sound was enough to make you shake in your boots, the cub merely giggled and took a bite of his own steak.

The bucket was empty by the time every lion had taken one. They were big steaks, but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep them full. You headed back to the keeper’s door with sweat rolling down your cheeks. The heat and dryness may be perfect for the lions and hyenas, but you could barely stand it.

As soon as you were back in the keeper area, you made a beeline for the water cooler. You poured yourself a cup and downed it in a couple seconds. Panting, you filled your cup a second time. You sipped the water a little slower this time, feeling its cooling effects soothe you.

You headed for the nearest first aid kit, conveniently hanging on the wall near the exhibit’s exit. You had a feeling you weren’t the first to need it. You took some bandages from the case and wrapped them around your hand, hissing a little at the pain the pressure caused.

You were ready to face the wolves now. And, as you made your way into their enclosure, you noted with relief that the warm was crisp and cool- the exact opposite of the previous enclosure.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you knew that, by the time you had made the trip with the heavy steaks, you’d probably be sweating again. Sure enough, the labor took its toll on your body, your arm aching as you switched the bucket to your other hand.

Deep in the forest now, you could sense eyes on you. Relieved that you had finally found the wolves, you collapsed to the ground. Unprofessional, maybe, but greatly needed. You sat on the soft grass as the wolf halflings began to approach you.

A few had their lips drawn up in a snarl, and one of them called out, “Who are you? You’re not our regular keeper.”

Another wolf was quick to say, “But she’s brought food. Isn’t that all that matters?”

You raised your hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m a researcher and I’m the one dropping off your food for this morning.”

That seemed to satisfy the wolves. Some of them still glared at you, but they all took their steaks. You looked around at the pack and was surprised to see, among all the gray hair, a head of pure white.

The wolf wasn’t glaring at you, but his expression didn’t give away how he felt at all. He seemed to be eyeing you warily, much like the hyenas. You fished out a steak and held it out to him. His eyes widened a little and he approached you.

“Thank you,” he said in a gruff voice, taking the steak from you. Before you could ask him his name, he disappeared into the crowd of wolves. You weren’t sure why your mind had picked him out from the others, except that his hair was a different color. A little embarrassed by your reaction to him, you held out a steak to another passing wolf, who growled at you in response.

As soon as the enclosure door shut behind you, you sank to the ground, exhausted. That was only the morning feeding- you had a full day (and part of the night) of studying and documenting behavior ahead of you.

[kckt88]

Two Sides Of The Same Coin.

Summary:

Aemond can't stand Y.N and he knows the feeling is mutual, with the pair of them regularly trading insults and snide remarks until one day their disdain for one another reaches boiling point.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Teasing, Name Calling, Miscommunication, Kissing, Smut - Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Positions, P in V.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N

Word Count: 3760

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

Aemond lounged on the worn leather sofa in the shared living room of his apartment, a slight scowl etched on his sharp features.

The dim light from the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the space. He ran a hand through his short silver hair, his gaze flicking towards the door as he heard the familiar, grating sound of Y.N’s laughter.

She was here again. Of course, she was.

His older sister Helaena had invited Y.N over for what seemed like the hundredth time this month.

They had been friends for years, but to Aemond, Y.N was nothing more than a constant thorn in his side. She was always there, always smiling, always ready with a quip or a snide remark. And for some reason, she seemed to delight in riling him up.

As Y.N stepped into the room, her eyes immediately locked onto Aemond’s. She had that infuriatingly confident smirk on her face, the one that made him want to throw something. Anything.

“Look who’s lounging around as per usual,” she teased, tossing her bag onto the coffee table. “Did you do anything productive today, Aemond? Or were you too busy looking in the mirror?”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, and he sat up straighter, his fingers drumming on the arm of the sofa. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet before you barged in,” he retorted. “Not that you’d understand the concept of peace.”

Helaena, ever the peacekeeper, entered the room with a smile, oblivious to the brewing storm. “Hey, guys! Glad to see you’re getting along as usual.”

Y.N rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, you know us, Helaena. We’re just the best of friends.”

Aemond snorted. “If by friends, you mean sworn enemies, then sure.”

Helaena sighed, shaking her head as she headed to the kitchen. “Try not to kill each other while I make some tea, okay?”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Y.N plopped down on the sofa next to Aemond, deliberately sitting closer than necessary. “You know, Aemond,” she said, her tone mockingly sweet, “Maybe if you smiled more, you might actually look approachable.”

“And if you talked less, you might actually be tolerable,” he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.

Helaena sighed, placing the tray on the table between them. “Can’t you two at least try to be civil?”

Y.N. raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m always civil. It’s Aemond who’s the grump.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so insufferable,” Aemond snapped.

“Maybe if you weren’t so uptight,” she countered, taking a sip of her tea.

Aemond had just finished a long, hot shower and had barely managed to slip into a pair of gray sweatpants when he heard a knock at the door. His damp blonde hair clung to his forehead as he walked through the apartment, the cool air hitting his still-wet skin.

He opened the door, expecting to see a delivery or a neighbour, but was instead greeted by Y.N.

Aemond rolled his eyes, for fuck sake, here she is again. The red hue of her newly dyed hair radiated in the light of the hallway, the piercing in her nose glinting slightly and those damn beaded bracelets that kept clacking together every time she moved her hand.

Y.N.’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of him, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary, on his lithe form, the smattering of hair that decorated his chest, the silver chain that hung around his neck. Aemond noticed and couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Enjoying the view?” asked Aemond, his voice low and teasing.

Y.N. snapped her eyes back up to his face, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for Helaena.”

“Well, Hel’s not here, she’s at work,” Aemond replied, leaning against the doorframe, his smirk widening.

“I know she’s at work,” Y.N. retorted, holding up a bag filled with books. “She asked me to pick these up from the library. I’m just dropping them off for her”.

Aemond smirked as he closed the door behind Y.N.

He watched as she put the books on the table and arranged them into a neat pile, his gaze focused on the way her dress rode up her thighs as she bent over slightly.

“What does Hel need them for anyway?” asked Aemond.

“Well, some people like to read-“

“An interesting concept, I honestly didn’t know you could read” mocked Aemond.

“I read more than you-“ quipped Y.N.

Aemond’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in her appearance. “Have you done something different?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual as he looked her up and down.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

"There's something about you-" muttered Aemond.

"Well I-" muttered Y.N as she ran a hand through her hair.

Aemond’s lips curved into a smirk as he leaned back, his gaze settling on her face. “Oh, I see. You’ve finally had your upper lip waxed.”

Y.N.'s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. "Funny. And here I thought you were going to say something actually clever for once."

Aemond shrugged, his smirk unfaltering. "It’s hard to be clever when the response would be so basic-Not really something I can take seriously"

Y.N. crossed her arms over her chest, a wicked glint in her eye. "Well, it’s hard to take you seriously when you spend more time on your hair care routine than anyone else I know, Mr. scented oils and hair serums, is it true that you used to straighten your hair before you got it cut-"

Aemond’s smirk vanished, replaced by a glare. "At least I take care of myself. Unlike some people."

"Sure, if taking care of yourself means smelling like an overly used perfume shop and spending half your life in front of a mirror," Y.N. retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’d rather smell good than look like I just rolled out of bed," Aemond shot back, his tone icy.

"Oh please, you look like you spend hours trying to get that 'effortlessly perfect' look," Y.N. replied, mimicking air quotes with her fingers. "Newsflash, it’s not working."

Aemond stepped closer, his eyes blazing with irritation. "And you think your look is working? Please. You’re a walking disaster."

Y.N. took a step closer as well, her eyes flashing with anger. "Better a walking disaster than a walking ego trip. You’re so obsessed with your appearance it’s quite pathetic."

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "At least I have something to be proud of. What do you have, besides a big mouth and a bad attitude?"

Y.N. glared at him, her voice low and dangerous. "I have more than you’ll ever understand, Aemond Targaryen. And for the record, I’d rather have a big mouth and a bad attitude than be an insufferable, self-absorbed dickhead."

“Tell me, are you naturally this stuck up, or did it take you years of practice?"

"I’m not the one who’s stuck up. You’re the one who struts around like you’re all that” snarled Y.N.

Aemond stepped closer, his expression taunting. "Me? You’re the one who walks around acting like you’re all that, when in reality, you’re about this much of that." He held his fingers a mere inch apart, emphasizing his point.

"Nice hand gesture," taunted Y.N, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "Is that the size of your cock, because I think your being far too generous.”

"What?-"

"Don't be too disheartened-it's a medical condition you know, it's called micro penis" laughed Y.N as she wiggled her little finger.

Aemond’s expression darkened, his smirk vanishing as fury flared in his eyes. In a heartbeat, he closed the distance between them, his hand shooting out to grab her by the throat.

He slammed her against the wall, the impact causing a picture frame to rattle precariously.

“Say that again,” he hissed, his grip firm but not painful, his face inches from hers.

Y.N.’s breath hitched, her defiance flickering into something else entirely as their eyes locked. For a moment, they were frozen, the air around them charged with a potent mix of anger and something far more dangerous.

“Make me,” whispered Y.N, her voice challenging but breathless.

Aemond’s response was swift and unexpected. He crashed his lips onto hers, the kiss rough and demanding, fuelled by their unresolved tension.

Y.N. responded in kind, her hands gripping his shoulders as she kissed him back fiercely. It was messy, all teeth and tongues, their anger translating into a passion they could no longer deny.

Her back pressed against the wall, Aemond's body pinning her in place as their mouths battled for dominance. Y.N. bit his lower lip, eliciting a low growl from him. He retaliated by deepening the kiss, his hands sliding down her body to grip her waist.

Just as abruptly as it began, Aemond pulled away, his breath ragged. He pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His heart pounded in his chest, the heat of the moment still thrumming through his veins.

Y.N. smirked, her lips curling up as she looked into his eyes. "Is that all you got?" she taunted, her voice a low, teasing whisper.

Aemond growled as he spun Y.N around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly pushing down his sweatpants and boxers.

“I’ll show you what I’ve got-“ rasped Aemond as he nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth digging into her skin.

Not having the patience to properly prepare her, Aemond spat into his hand reaching down to run it up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing Y.N with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.

He rucked up the dress she was wearing and pulled aside her knickers as he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“FUCKING TAKE IT!” spits Aemond.

Y.N can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing the tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his fingers digging into her hips as he pushes and pulls her against him.

His cock reaching deep inside her, the sting of being stretched by him now giving way to a pleasurable ache.

Then he withdraws from her and spins her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly thrusts back inside her.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Y.N. as she claws at his back.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

“P-Please. Oh Please. Yes-yes” babbled Y.N ignoring the pain in her back as the force of Aemond’s thrusts kept slamming her into the wall.

“That’s it-” encouraged Aemond his gaze rooted to the place where they were joined, transfixed by the sight of her cunt stretched around his cock.

“Oooh-please-please” muttered Y.N

But then, his thrust begin to slow, and he withdraws from her, making her whimper in frustration.

But Aemond ignores her as he lays her on the sofa and falls to his knees.

Sliding his hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her knickers in his hand before he rips them from her body.

“Aemond” shrieked Y.N as Aemond’s mouth quickly descends on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into Y.N’s core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could.

Still gasping, Y.N clutched at his head with one hand, her other digging into the fabric of the sofa.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Aemond growled, deep in his throat. The vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Y.N gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak– But Aemond pulled away from her and smirked, his chin shining with her slick.

“A-Aemond” gasped Y.N, the tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.

“Be a good little girl and take what I give you” said Aemond as he reached for the buttons on the front of her dress before he grew impatient and tore it from her body, leaving her breasts bared.

A loud moan erupted from the back of his throat at the sight of Y.N’s perfect breasts, he leaned forward and took one of her rosy nipples into his mouth, sucking on the stiffened peak before he bit her.

“Ooooh Aemond-“ whined Y.N as she writhed against him, he smirked as he released her nipple and moved across lavishing the other one with the same attention.

“P-Please-” sobbed Y.N as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Hmm” growled Aemond as he wrapped his hand around Y.N’s throat and sheathed himself inside her.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Y.N.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond as he ran the head of his cock through her wet folds.

“I want you” exclaimed Y.N.

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself back inside her.

“I need you-“ muttered Y.N as one of Aemond’s hands slid up her body and wrapped around her throat.

Aemond smiled and then began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Y.N’ moans of need echoing around the living room.

His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me-” breathed Aemond.

Y.N. screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Gods, he needed to spill his seed, but not like this.

So, with his cock still nestled inside her, Aemond manoeuvred himself into a sitting position with Y.N on his lap.

“Give me another-I want you to come on my cock again” growled Aemond.

Y.N ran her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, her nails digging into his pale skin.

“That’s it-mark me fucking harder” growled Aemond, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as Y.N ran her nails across his skin.

“Oh” gasped Y.N as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me-good girl”.

Aemond placed his hands on Y.N’ hips and marvelled at Y.N as she bounced on top of him.

“S-so good-Aemond-“ whimpered Y.N.

“I-I’m never leaving this sweet cunt-“ moaned Aemond.

Y.N slid her hands over his shoulders and coiled her fingers into his silver hair as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Y.N as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast.

Y.N’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N her vision going white as she came around his cock.

“I-I’m gonna cum. W-where s-shall I?” exclaimed Aemond, the tension in his abdomen was about to burst.

“I-Inside me-please-I take pills-” whined Y.N.

 “FUUUCCCKKK” roared Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against the sofa, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses. Meanwhile Y.N had collapsed against him, her face pressed into his neck.

After a few minutes Y.N began to squirm in Aemond’s grasp, her senses rapidly returning.

She’s just had sex with Aemond. The same Aemond who annoyed her, the same Aemond who never missed an opportunity to wind her up, the same Aemond who’s cock was still buried deep inside her.

Y.N began to panic, would this change things between them or would he use this against her, she didn’t want to find out, she didn’t want to look in his eyes and see that he regretted what they had done, so she tried to move away from his hot sweaty body, but his grip on her tightened.

“Where do you think your going-I haven’t finished with you yet” growled Aemond, his cock growing hard inside of her once more.

“A-Aemond” breathed Y.N.

“I told you that I wasn’t leaving your sweet cunt and I meant it-I’m going to take you to my bed and fuck you so many times tonight that you’ll not be able to walk straight tomorrow”.

Later that night, Aemond lay beside Y.N. in the dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows across their entwined forms. The room was filled with the quiet sounds of their shared breaths, a stark contrast to the passionate chaos that had erupted between them earlier.

Y.N. slept soundly, her long red hair fanned out across the pillow like a fiery halo. Aemond couldn’t help but admire the vibrant strands, the way they framed her serene face.

He traced his gaze over her delicate features, lingering on her plump lips, slightly parted as she breathed deeply. The softness of her skin tempted him to touch, to memorize every curve and contour.

His fingers moved slowly, almost reverently, as they traced the flowery tattoo on her hip. He marvelled at the contrast between the toughness she displayed during their confrontations and the softness he now felt beneath his fingertips.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. The day had been a revelation. He had never wanted any other woman the way he wanted Y.N.

His desire for her was ravenous and unrestrained, a primal hunger that had taken him by surprise. He had experienced passion before, but nothing like this—nothing that consumed him so completely.

Fucking her in the living room had done nothing to quell the fire within him, he had brought her back to his room and fucked her four more times.

Aemond’s mind wandered back to the intensity of their kisses, the way their bodies had moved together as if they were made for each other. He had felt alive, every nerve ending electrified by her touch. The connection they had forged was undeniable, transcending the petty insults and animosity that had defined their previous interactions.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder, careful not to wake her. As he settled back against the pillows, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She stirred slightly, her body instinctively moving his, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

For the first time in a long while, Aemond felt a sense of peace. The anger and frustration that had always simmered between them had transformed into something deeper, something he couldn’t quite define but knew he wanted to explore further.

He closed his eyes, allowing the exhaustion to finally take over, his last conscious thought a realization that shook him to his core: he had never experienced anything like this before, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to let it go.

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains as Y.N. stirred in Aemond's bed. She carefully disentangled herself from his arms, glancing at his serene, sleeping face. Trying not to wake him, she slid out from under the covers, her feet touching the cool floor, but just as she was about to stand up, a strong hand clasped her wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Aemond’s voice was husky with sleep but firm.

Y.N. turned to see him sitting up, his silver hair tousled, his intense gaze fixed on her. “I thought I’d sneak out before you woke up,” she admitted with a small, guilty smile.

“Not happening. After last night, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

Y.N allowed herself to be pulled back into the bed, settling beside him. “I thought you hated me,” she said softly, searching his face for answers.

Aemond shook his head, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. “I never hated you, Y.N. I don’t know what it was, but it was never hate. Last night opened my eyes to what I’ve been blind to all this time. My perfect woman has been right in front of me.”

Y.N.’s breath hitched at his words, her heart pounding in her chest. “Are you saying you want to be with me?”

“If you’re willing,” he said, his voice earnest. “I want to explore a relationship between us. I want this, and I want you.”

A smile spread across Y.N.’s face, her eyes softening. “I’d like that too.”

Aemond leaned in to kiss her, his lips just brushing hers when her stomach let out a loud grumble. They both froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Well, I would like to get something to eat,” Y.N. said between giggles, “But I don’t think I can walk properly.”

Aemond’s laughter echoed through the room, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “What can I say, love? I’m a man of my word.”

They lay back down, their laughter subsiding into comfortable silence. Aemond wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Y.N. snuggled against his chest, feeling a sense of contentment she had never known before.

As they lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, they both knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. And for the first time, their banter and bickering felt like the foundation of something real and lasting, something neither of them wanted to let go.

The End.

[sovasleepy]

books and bonsai

[ omen x gn!reader ] - you both have your separate hobbies, but omen seems to love yours just as much as you do

tags: just fluff. reader loves books and reading (implied that the current book is fiction but i tried to keep it ambiguous)

notes: requested by @krokrux ! i hope you enjoy :)

“eccentric” and “extroverted” were probably not the best words to describe omen. he was a man of few words, and often times simply a man of several low growling noises.

not to say that you hated those things about him. not even remotely. it was refreshing, really.

it’s no secret that the hustle and bustle of days spent living at kingdom headquarters were… a lot. someone was always awake, whether that be a guard or simply a coworker fighting sleep. training was hard and tensions were tight most days. missions were tiring and often ended with several injuries. even the slow days where you could sleep in and training was minimal weren’t easy. there was something about the cold, metal environment of the headquarters that took away the “home” feeling of it.

one place that did make you feel better was the nearest comfy spot to read a book. today, that just so happened to be a sofa in a lounge room. the pillows and cushions were soft, but the back support good and the blankets cozy.

omen sat at a nearby table. he had a little bonsai tree situated in front of him and small pair of pruning scissors in his hand. normally, if someone was already occupying the space, you would have left.

however, omen was quiet and the sofa looked a little too inviting. you could enjoy each others company without disturbing each other, right?

you had been reading for a while whenever omen finally stood from his chair. you’d been a little too engrossed in what you were reading, and it took you a second to blink back to what was actually happening. the phantom took a few tentative steps toward you. he was quiet for a few beats before he finally spoke.

“can i sit?” he asked. one hand made the slightest inclination toward the seat next to you on the sofa.

you nodded and pulled your feet in a little to give him space. “oh, sure. how’s your tree?”

“good. your book?”

“it’s going good, i like this book. although the main character is kinda pissing me off. i know it’s supposed to be a personality trait or whatever but— yeah, it’s a good book.” you stopped before letting yourself go off on a tangent.

there were another few beats of silence. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if asking for you to elaborate. when you didn’t, he leaned slightly closer and pretended to read the words on the page, although he wasn’t paying much attention.

“tell me.” he said, leaning back to where he had been before and looking over to you expectantly.

“tell you what? about the character?”

“the book.” omen said. “you seem to like it.”

you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. you would jump at any chance to tell someone about whatever book you had read or read about that day, but the offer being laid out to you sparked a warmth in your chest.

you weren’t sure how long you had been talking, but it had to have been a while. your mouth was dry, but you had managed to spill out every single coherent (and some incoherent) thought you’d had about the book thus far. and you couldn’t be happier about it, either.

omen hummed when you finished. he didn’t say anything, except mutter a small “thank you,” before collecting his bonsai and leaving the room. you settled back into the spot you had been before, and continued reading.

the interaction had been strange to you, but you tried not to think too hard about it. of all people, omen was one of the last you expected to hold a conversation with, although was it even a conversation? had he even enjoyed it? or did he grow tired halfway through?

in all honesty, you had presumed the latter.

that was until the next afternoon, anyway. you heard a small knock on your bedroom door, and padded over to open it. in the hallway stood omen, bonsai tree and pruning scissors in tow.

“hey,” you smiled. “what’s up?”

“can i…” he trailed off for a moment while he thought of what to say. then, he held up his bonsai tree and nodded towards it, indicating he was referring to it. “…and you tell me about your book?”

it would be a while before you realized that he wasn’t actually pruning his bonsai most of the time. you weren’t sure how often they needed to be trimmed, but it definitely wasn’t every day, and not for that long. you wondered if he give up the farce and just admit that he liked listening to you talk about something you enjoyed, but you supposed it didn’t really matter. if he wanted to pretend to prune his tree just to listen to you, you weren’t going to complain.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light suggestive themes, use of "princess", "she" pronoun used, a few more characters appear, Sukuna and reader are both hot for each other, a hot mess if you squint lol A/N: what does it say about me that my dreams are now occupied by this fic three chapters in? anywaaaaays, hope I did the guest appearances justice with their personalities (｡- .•) I try to remind myself this is a modern au and I can't just allow Sukuna to be too "King of Curses" like lol. index part two | part four

part three word count : 2,711

Sukuna had always thought that love wouldn’t be something he easily fell into. he was torn between the idea that no one would be right for him – or that he would never be right for anyone. last summer felt like it had proved the latter to be true, even though he knew why things ended up the way they did.

but now, you kept coming back. back to that bar every day, back to his thoughts constantly. he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the feelings he got whenever you were around. excitement, intrigue, and most of all, awe. you took his playful insults and dished them back tenfold – something he was growing used to enjoying.

and yet you were still flustered around him. and that made him even more thrilled. whenever he’d get your cheeks to flush, or your gaze averted from him, he counted it as a win, just because he got to see your expression change. and when it did, he could tell that slowly, but surely, you were falling as fast as he was.

despite your best efforts, you were. the idea that after work you could meet Sukuna at the bar made the day go by much faster. you were even finding yourself primping in the mirror before leaving. and god forbid, your dreams at night… filthy. and filled with him.

you had denied yourself long enough right? he was interested in you, wasn’t entirely crazy, and was very very attractive. maybe it was time to finally kick your vengeance act into gear – Sukuna was the perfect candidate.

imagine your surprise when you stepped out of work, expecting the usual walk around the corner to the bar, only to find Sukuna leaning casually against his motorcycle, waiting for you. the sight sent a shiver down your spine. he held the strap of his helmet loosely with two fingers, slung over his shoulder like he had all the time in the world. when his crimson eyes met yours, that wicked grin of his spread across his face.

“well, this is unexpected,” you said as you approached, arms crossed in mock suspicion. “escaping our bar again?”

“you said our bar,” Sukuna pointed out, clearly relishing the words as he repeated them, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that. has a nice ring to it.”

you rolled your eyes. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” he shot back smoothly, his gaze fixed on you with a glint of mischief. “but I had a better idea today. you up for a little adventure?”

you raised a brow, glancing at his bike. “this isn’t one of those adventures where I mysteriously disappear and end up on the evening news, is it?”

Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent warmth curling in your chest. “damn, you caught on to step six of my evil master plan,” he said, smirking.

“step six? what happened to steps one through five?” you asked, playing along despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh, those are just the warm-up,” Sukuna replied, leaning closer, his voice dipping just enough to send a thrill through you. “but don’t worry, princess. you’ll enjoy this.”

you hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “fine. but if this so-called adventure involves anything sketchy, I’m out.”

Sukuna’s grin only widened as he handed you the spare helmet, the same one you’d worn the night before. “relax, you’re in good hands. now, hop on.”

you clung to him a little tighter on the ride than you wanted to admit, the warmth of his back and the cool wind rushing past making for a strange, intoxicating contrast.

when the bike finally slowed, you glanced up, expecting some scenic overlook or hole-in-the-wall restaurant. instead, Sukuna pulled into the lot of a sleek, modern building. neon lights illuminated the name of the business: Cursed Ink.

“a tattoo shop?” you asked, sliding off the bike as he steadied it on the kickstand.

“my tattoo shop,” Sukuna corrected, pride lacing his tone as he pulled off his helmet.

you followed him inside, the smell of antiseptic and faint hints of ink filling the air. “wow,” you murmured, your eyes drifting to a wall of framed photographs showcasing some of the shop’s best work. “this is… impressive.”

“told you I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, watching you with an expression that was almost unreadable. he gestured toward one of the tattoo stations, where a black chair sat beneath a lamp. “that’s my spot.”

your gaze followed his hand, taking in the neatly arranged inks, the well-worn sketchpad sitting off to the side. “so, what? you brought me here to show off?”

“maybe,” he said with a shrug, but his grin hinted at more. “or maybe I figured you’d like to see a different side of me. you’re always so quick to think you’ve got me figured out.”

you turned to him, crossing your arms. “and what side is this, exactly?”

“the real one,” he said simply. “you’ve seen me at the bar, running my mouth and messing with you. but this? this is what I do. it’s what I’m good at.”

there was something uncharacteristically earnest in his tone, and it caught you off guard. you glanced around again, your gaze lingering on the bold, intricate designs hanging on the walls. “did you do these?”

“most of them,” Sukuna said, his voice tinged with cockiness. “the others are from the team. they’re good, but…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “let’s be honest. I’m better.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “of course you’d say that.”

“wanna see for yourself?” he challenged, stepping closer, his crimson eyes gleaming.

your pulse quickened as you caught the implication in his words. “what are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying,” Sukuna said, leaning against the counter, “if you’re feeling brave, I could give you a little something. something that’ll remind you of tonight.”

you hesitated, glancing at the tattoo chair, then back at Sukuna. the way his crimson eyes gleamed with challenge sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. “yeah, no,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not letting you put a needle anywhere near me.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “scared, princess?”

“scared?” you repeated with a scoff. “of you? hardly. but I’m not about to let you permanently mark me just because you feel like showing off.”

he chuckled, the sound low and rich as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed in mock defeat. he planned to mark you one day alright, just not with ink. “your loss. you could’ve had something to remember me by.”

“oh, trust me,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes. “I think you’re already impossible to forget.”

his smirk widened at that, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than necessary. “good,” he said simply, pushing off the counter and motioning for you to follow. “guess I’ll just have to show you around instead.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and trailed behind him as he led you through the shop.

the place had more personality than you’d expected—walls lined with artwork, some of which you learned were Sukuna’s own designs.

“alright,” you admitted after he finished showing off a dragon piece that stretched across an entire back. “I’ll give you this—you’re good. like, really good.”

“finally, some recognition,” Sukuna teased, his grin smug. “I was starting to think you didn’t appreciate my talents.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you replied, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

suddenly, the bell at the front door chimed, signaling someone had entered the shop. you glanced at Sukuna, raising an eyebrow as his mouth tugged into an irritated frown.

“sounds like the rest of the clowns decided to show up,” he muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation.

“Suku! saw your bike out front!” called a cheerful male voice, loud enough to echo through the shop. Sukuna’s eyes rolled so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck.

“should I be worried about your friends?” you teased, but the grim look on Sukuna’s face made you half-wonder if it was a legitimate concern.

“they’re not friends,” Sukuna corrected, his irritation palpable. “they’re my partners. Suguru and Uraume. and along with them is Suguru’s best friend—who also happens to be the most annoying brat I’ve ever met—Satoru.”

right on cue, three figures appeared from around the corner. the first, Suguru Geto, was tall and composed, with long, sleek black hair tied back. next to him, Uraume stood with an air of quiet confidence. their sharp gaze darted between you and Sukuna, as if assessing the situation before speaking.

trailing behind was Satoru Gojo, whose striking white hair and smug grin made him an instant attention-grabber. he wore round sunglasses despite it being nighttime, and his energy was as loud and brash as his voice.

“well, well,” Satoru began, striding forward with his hands in his pockets. “what’s this? Sukuna actually entertaining a guest? didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”

“shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Sukuna snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Suguru gave you a polite nod, his tone smooth as he said, “don’t mind him. Satoru’s personality is… an acquired taste.”

“hey asshole! I heard that!” Satoru chimed, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “so, who’s this? did you finally manage to find someone who doesn’t hate your guts, Sukuna?”

your lips twitched at the jab, but you stayed quiet, letting Sukuna handle the chaos.

“that's none of your business,” Sukuna growled, stepping slightly in front of you as if to shield you from whatever nonsense was about to follow.

Uraume’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before they turned to Sukuna, their voice calm and neutral. “you didn’t tell us you had company tonight.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything, do I?” Sukuna shot back.

“you never do,” Uraume said, the faintest hint of a smirk gracing their lips.

Suguru chuckled under his breath before addressing you directly. “forgive the intrusion. I’m Suguru. and the loud one is Satoru.”

“I’m right here!” Satoru protested, waving dramatically.

“and this is Uraume,” Suguru continued, ignoring the interruption.

you nodded at each of them, feeling the weight of their scrutiny but refusing to let it show. “nice to meet you. I guess.”

Satoru grinned, leaning toward Sukuna with a mock whisper. “she’s feisty.”

“say one more thing, and I’ll kick you out myself,” Sukuna threatened, his patience clearly wearing thin.

the group laughed—well, mostly Satoru and Suguru—while Uraume merely shook their head, as if used to the chaos.

Suguru leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between you and Sukuna. “didn’t peg you as the type to bring someone here, Sukuna. let me guess, you’ve been bragging about how you’re the best artist in the city?”

Sukuna smirked, his annoyance ebbing slightly. “don’t need to brag. everyone already knows.”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru cut in, waving a hand dismissively before plopping himself onto one of the tattoo chairs. “but damn, what’s the deal? you’ve been dodging our calls, and now we find you playing tour guide?” he turned to you, grinning like a cheshire cat. “what kind of blackmail material do you have on him?”

you couldn’t help but snort at the absurdity. “I think he just likes tormenting me in person.”

Satoru laughed loudly, slapping the arm of the chair. “oh shit, she’s funny. I like her.”

Sukuna shot him a glare that could’ve withered a plant. “you’re testing my patience, Gojo.”

Uraume stepped forward, their tone as cool as ever. “should we expect you to actually focus on work tomorrow, or are you going to be… otherwise occupied?”

“I don’t report to you,” Sukuna snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing.

Suguru raised his hands in mock surrender, the picture of calm. “alright, alright, we’ll stop prying. but next time, maybe let us know when you’re busy, so we don’t interrupt your – ahem – quality time.”

Sukuna groaned, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “you’re all insufferable. I swear, one day—”

“yeah, yeah,” Satoru interrupted with a grin, spinning lazily in the chair. “one day you’ll kill us all. heard it a million fucking times. anyway,” he turned back to you, “you must be special if you’ve got the king of grump spending his evenings with you.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in attention towards you again. before you could respond, Sukuna stepped in, his voice sharp. “she’s not here for your entertainment, Gojo. don’t you have some other poor soul to annoy?”

“not tonight,” Satoru replied cheerily, leaning back as if he owned the place.

Suguru gave you an apologetic glance, his expression softening. “he means well. most of the time.”

Uraume, meanwhile, was silent but observant, their gaze never straying far from you or Sukuna. you got the sense they were assessing something, but what, you couldn’t tell. their gaze made you feel… uneasy. like you were a specimen under a microscope.

“I think that’s enough,” Sukuna said suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’ve seen me. I’m alive. now get lost.”

“aw, don’t be like that, Suku,” Satoru teased, standing and stretching dramatically. “we were just starting to have fun.”

“I’m serious,” Sukuna growled, his patience officially gone.

Suguru chuckled under his breath but relented, motioning for Satoru and Uraume to follow. “alright, we’ll leave you to it. but don’t think this means we’re done with you.”

Uraume cast Sukuna a long look before turning to you. “it was… interesting to meet you.”

“likewise,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure what to make of them. did they hate you already? did you have something on your face?

with that, the trio finally made their exit, the bell chiming once again as the door swung shut behind them.

the silence that followed was almost jarring. you turned to Sukuna, raising an eyebrow. “so… that’s your crew?”

“unfortunately,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “don’t let them scare you off. they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know. I kind of liked them.”

Sukuna groaned. “don’t encourage them. especially Gojo. that idiot doesn’t need more fuel for his damn ego.”

despite his grumbling, you could tell there was a begrudging fondness buried – deep – beneath the surface. it was strange, seeing Sukuna interact with people who clearly knew him so well, even if they drove him up the wall.

“alright, enough about them,” he said, his tone softening as he turned back to you. “where were we before the circus rolled in?”

you laughed softly. “something about me not letting you give me a tattoo?”

his lips curled into a smirk, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “right. you’re still a coward for that, by the way.”

“keep dreaming,” you shot back, but the warmth in his gaze made it hard to keep the smile off your face.

Sukuna leaned closer, his smirk sharp as ever, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “you know, you can’t avoid it forever. one day, you’ll let me leave my mark on you.”

“don’t count on it,” you replied, trying to sound defiant despite the way your heartbeat quickened.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning back casually. “we’ll see.”

the tension hung in the air, thick and electric, before Sukuna finally grabbed his helmet and tossed it your way. you barely caught it, giving him a questioning look.

“come on,” he said, already heading for the door. “let’s get out of here, it’s getting late.”

you rolled your eyes but followed, the sound of the shop’s lights clicking off behind you.

as you climbed onto the back of his bike, your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, the motion feeling almost second nature by now. it was startling how natural it felt—being this close to him, fitting into this unpredictable rhythm he’d drawn you into. a thought crept into your mind, frustratingly persistent: would you feel disappointed if he didn’t show up tomorrow?

the answer lingered in your chest, heavier than you expected.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[vacayisland]

I would love to see your take on Trollex or Synth I love them so much. Maybe relationship hcs with reader? Thank youu~

@!; Starfish Wishes Trollex / Reader Synth / Reader

"Summary"! Unstructured headcannons on how Trollex and Synth would be in a relationship with the reader! "Tags"! Fluff and the two being literal dorks I love them sm. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST ABOUT THEM FOR AGES PLEASE ILY SM (/p)

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69

@!; Being the lover of the Techno tribe leader is an experience like no other. I'm being serious, Trollex is a big doofus at heart and he knows it, and while he's more tame in public when he's alone with you it all comes out. And while Trollex has the biggest heart you've ever seen, it's a blessing and a curse.

Standing at the bottom of the ocean was defiantly something new for you, and something you didn't exactly expect to experience - like ever. Nevertheless, you never thought you would experience standing under the ocean in the middle of a Techno rave. Trollex always gushed about them, speaking with such energy you were sure half the time he was going to explode. Yet, whenever he spoke with you about the raves there was always a common denominator that made him pause and cause him to stand still. You both knew that it was harder said than done, seeing as you were neither a Techno troll or that you could breath under water. And yet, after months of talking (and a lot of trust building as Trollex tried to find some way to make this happened) he finally did it! "You alright Starfish?" Trollex shouted over the blasting music towards you, taking off an earphone as he did so. You nearly missed his voice, despite standing right next to him as you still felt a little uneasy to join the rest of the Techno tribe on their dance floor. "Huh?" You shouted back, taking a moment to process what he said, "Yeah! It's just- it's weird!" A chuckled followed after your words, "Standing at the bottom of the ocean, listening to unmuffled music, dancing?" Trollex beamed towards you, dropping his headphones around his neck, "Yeah! You have to get used to it, but if you ever need a break let me now. I'll get Synth to take over for a moment so we can go to a quieter area."

@!; Honestly he has the biggest heart, loves you to death and will do anything to make sure you're happy and well. Furthermore, he will do anything to protect you. Other than his tribe, you're his number one priority and he won't ever let you forget that and will remind you constantly. Mostly shows his love through spontaneous actions! Such as grabbing your waist and hugging you tightly while twirling around, making a CD that is a mash-up of all your favorite songs (or your own songs), or just deciding that today was going to be you and him day. I feel like he shows a lot of his affection through physical contact and quality: hugs, cuddles, kisses, swimming together, listening to music, spinning disks, having you next to him during raves so he can steal kisses from you. Loves to also make you flustered. It's the cheekiness instead of him.

@!; Defiantly a family guy! Expect him to be home with you, and the children, when he isn't doing his leadership gigs. Also, expect there to be kids and at least 3-4 of them, and expect him to love and spoil them to death. Those are his babies and he will not let anyone harm them and he will make sure they're raised not only right but also with everything he could possibly give them. Though is defiantly the type to understand if you want fewer or more kids, or if you need time between each egg catching. he knows it's difficult to raise kids without him there all the time. And while he tries to be there all he can, running the Techno tribe is a lot of work and he can't always be there. But you'll be damned if he misses something important for his kids. Never, ever, will this man miss something for you or his kids. First dj session? There and he's their biggest fan. First steps? There. First glitter ball game? You know he's rocking their colors. Birthdays? His schedule his cleared on that day for decades. Somehow finds a balance between life and work to keep the tribe happy and safe while also being the best dad he can be.

@!; Big prankster and goofball. The type who, when he sees your sad, cheer you up either through cuddles or a well meaning prank. He loves you to death, and I will say this time and time again because it's true, and he doesn't want to see you upset or sad. It makes him sad! So he'll cheer you up with his second best medicine, laughter and smiles! The first is obviously raving.

"Hey starfish, can you come here?" Trollex called you from the kitchen of your shared home, causing you to lean your head back on the couch. You tried looking at him, or tried to get a hint of what he was doing. It was one of those days were all you felt like doing was nothing. You just wanted to lay on the couch and completely space you, looking at the wall for any sort of inspiration that would never come. It made your nose scrunch and your head hurt to think that your boyfriend could possibly think beckoning you from your current place of hibernation was a good idea. Though seconds later, after not seeing you budge, he called again, "I promise, it'll be good!" So reluctantly, you mustered the strength to push yourself off the couch and onto your feet. Despite how heavy your body felt, you pushed through it to enter the kitchen where Trollex stood all too suspiciously; His hands were behind his back and this big grin was spread across his face. You knew he was up to something but you couldn't guess what it was. "So.. I know that you're having a bad day." He started, trying to contain his excitement. "So I decided to get you a gift!"

Did the gift happen to be something you absolutely loved, and had been ranting to Trollex about anytime it had crossed your mind? Yes. But was it also a bitch to get out because Trollex used every box and paper bag and gift wrap you two had laying around to wrap it? Also yes. You were so sure that the gift wrap and the boxes and the bag would never end, but it got you laughing and smiling at how ridiculous the whole thing was. Trollex and you literally spent 15 minutes on the kitchen floor unwrapping it all, then another 5 minutes laughing your asses off about it.

@!; Overall, he's an amazing lover and I love him so much. He will give you up, he'll never let you down, he'll never run around and desert you. He'll never make you cry, he'll never say goodbye, he'll never tell a lie and hurt you. But he will rickroll you as a prank while playing around with his turntables, giving you your own private concert. And this man will absolutely cackle at your expression like the gremlin he is and apologize later.

@!; Being Synth’s lover is getting to know the Synth behind “Synth”; which is much more complex than the outward, rave-loving and happy-go-lucky person Synth is always described and known as. And sure, while you fell in love with that version of Synth, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for him the more you got to know him, and in turn he fell harder the more he realized you accepted him and the more he got to know you.

@!; You first met Synth at a rave, which you had been invited to by Poppy as an olive branch to get to know some Techno trolls. At first, you weren’t sure why she would invite you to such a loud event, knowing you were rather sensitive about noise and iffy about meeting new people, especially people from different tribes. Yet, you also knew it would be rather rude to decline the invitation. Not only because Poppy had asked you personally, but also because it was a party for another tribe and you weren’t sure how they reacted to declined invitations. You had feared they took it horribly, like if you declined it would mean you hated them or something along those lines. So, to not make anyone upset you decided to go.

And, as you had expected earlier, you kept close to the edges of the party and watched everyone else; Having even taken a seat upon the disco floor out of tiredness of standing for too long. Yet, you didn’t want to leave encase Poppy wanted to introduce you to someone, or if it would count as rude to leave before a rave had finished. So you stayed, despite the overwhelming feeling you got from being in such a crowded and loud environment. “Yo, Bro!” Someone shouted, and you had thought it was towards someone else. Seeing as you didn’t know who the voice was coming from and you were just sitting in a corner doing nothing interesting, you had little reason to think someone was calling to you. Yet the voice shouted, this time closer, “Yo! Hello!” and then you saw someone waving their hands in the background, which caught your attention rather quickly. It was a Techno troll you had seen before around Poppy, and a few other Trolls. While you never spoke to him personally, you knew a few things about him. Such as, his name was Synth and he was quite loud. At times, you were able to hear his voice from across Trollstopia, and it always caused a slight fright in you at the sudden noise. “Bro you okay?” Synth swam over to you, hanging upside down with glow sticks in hand and some hanging around his neck. You hadn’t known at the time how much this first interaction would change your life, how much Synth would affect you. All you knew is that you wanted to run and hide. You were glad you didn’t.

@!; Synth wasn’t the most emotionally aware troll there is, while you were exactly the opposite and were way too emotionally aware for your own well being. As such, you two were able to balance each other out. Synth helps you calm down from the stress and emotional pressure of carrying everyone’s troubles on your back and you help Synth by pointing out social cues and things he was overlooking in his fun-seeking ways. You both helped each other get more in touch with your friends and with each other. Synth usually helps you calm down, not by raving with a large group of Techno trolls (though he used to before you exploded to Poppy, not wanting to hurt Synth’s feelings and she told Synth) yet by having dance parties at your pod. Dance parties meaning it was only you and Synth with your feel-good songs and you two would either dance together or do something else like scrapbooking, cooking, baking, etc. Something he tries to sit down and help you through your emotions. At first he tried giving you suggestions, but they weren’t the best and he learnt to just let you get it all out. Something you didn’t even need him to listen to, you just needed him there.

@!; Cuddling with Synth means there’s always a nightlight nearby! Poor Synth is terrified of the dark, and it really troubled him to be in a room without any sort of lighting (which is how you figured out why he always carries glow sticks with him). At first, Synth tried to be strong for you and cuddle at night… but he didn’t even last 2 minutes before he yelled out in pure terror.

“What? What?!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your place in bed as Synth was just freaking out. You were just about to doze off when he had begun to do so, and you were sure he didn’t have a nightmare because he hadn’t even fallen asleep… or closed his eyes for that matter. You could see the purple glow of his eyes through your shut ones. Though Synth didn’t seem too keen on answering you straightly, as he just blubbered out, “What what? What who? What where? And sometimes-” “Synth.” But you cut him off, cupping his cheeks to make him look at you. To which he drew back a little, his eyes widening in shock for a split second before he became a ball of nerves. He laughed, nervous laughter. And you seemed to realize instantly what was happening with how frequently his eyes darted around the room, trying to look for something. You didn’t know he was afraid of the dark! “Synth you should have told me.” You would mumble before scrambling to turn on your bedside lamp, much to Synth’s relief.

From that day on you had a nightlight in your room for Synth.

@!; Synth gave you a rave name the first 3 hours he knew you and now that’s the only thing he decides to call you. You weren’t sure why he did so and when you asked Trollex or Laguna they just said that’s how he is. Trollex even shrugged. You’re stuck with it, so get used to it because he means that rave name with the up most endearment!! <3

@!; He’s a little hard in the head. Didn’t know you liked him until you told him out right and even then he didn’t understand and said he liked you too. You gave up and Trollex had to explain to him what you meant, to which he paused and shouted to you as you walked away, “I LOVE YOU!” To which Trollex stared at him with the most bewildered look and you got absolutely terrified.

@!; Has taken you water surfing and urchin acupuncturing if you’re cool with it! And if you need he’s here to hold your hand and help you through it. Has also shot water at you with his water powers. Was his hands in the shape of little guns? Yes. did he also say “pew pew” as well? Yes. Did you then also purchase a water gun to be able to do it back? Yup. And was Synth so shocked the first time he got pew-pew’ed with water back? Mhmm. But then did it dissolve into a huge water fight anytime you guys pew-pew’ed each other with water? Of course!

@!; Other than being scared of the water and being an avid raver, Synth sometimes struggles with self esteem issues; mostly, he fears that he’ll let people down and disappoint them. Which, when you first heard him explain, you were shocked to hear! You always thought Synth didn’t really care what other people thought of him, despite caring about people and their well being. You don’t know why you thought that way, but you just did.

“So that’s why I’ve been acting so off the past few days, yo.” Synth explained to you the whole fiasco about his cheerleading side-gig, which he did more for fun than anything else. Though Synth expected a slightly more emotional reaction out of you than other trolls, he didn’t expect to see you almost crying. “Yo, are you crying?!” “No! No, I’m fine!” Yet you only sniffled. “Bro… don’t cry because then I’ll cry!”

You and Synth connected on a deeper level that day, as you explained you also tended to feel that way around people. You both decided to make a pinkie-promise to be able to tell each other anything since that day. @!; I love Synth so much, 10/10 lover. 

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[scoonsalicious]

9.2 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of past cheating.

Word Count: 2.3k

Previously On...: Bucky and Lily had a conversation. Now Lily knows you and Bucky are dating.

A/N: Sorry this is late; I had to clean out my office after hours today. It was... an experience, to say the least :/

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

“I think you’re a fucking idiot,” your best friend, Hannah Santiago, said to you as you sat in the coffee shop across the street from The WarZone. She had been furious with you when you hadn’t answered her texts all weekend, so you promised her a lunch date to catch her up on your last few days in the company of one Bucky Barnes.

She did not appear to be taking it very well.

“Why?” you asked, mildly insulted. “He’s amazing, Han. I think you’ll really like him when you get to know him.”

Hannah rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, I’m sure he’s a peach,” she agreed with just a hint of sarcasm. “Though I’d probably feel better about it if you got to know him, too, before shacking up with him for days on end!”

“It’s NRE,” you told her, as if that perfectly explained the intense connection you felt you shared with Bucky. “That New Relationship Energy.”

“Oh my god,” Hannah groaned. “Get off of TikTok. You’re too fucking old for that shit.” A mother at the next table over with an infant in a stroller gave her a disapproving look and audibly tsked at her, but Hannah just responded with a glare.

“It’s great for marketing,” you grumbled.

“Look,” Hannah conceded with a sigh, “I’m sure this guy is wonderful, really. But (Y/N), sweetie, you haven’t had a serious relationship since you and Connor split.” You opened your mouth to protest, despite knowing she was right, but Hannah silenced you with a look. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to get back out there; lord knows it's past time– I just want you to be smart about it and not rush into anything headfirst with someone you barely know.”

Logically, of course, you knew Hannah was right. “He suggested we should put a pause on having sex so we can focus on getting to know each other better,” you offered. 

Hannah raised a well-manicured eyebrow. “Okay, that’s interesting,” she said. “Especially if it was as good as you said it was.”

You dropped your chin into your hand as you rested your elbow against the table and sighed dreamily. “Hannah, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I swear, I don’t even know if I can call anything Connor ever gave me an actual orgasm after then things Bucky’s done to my body.”

The mother at the next table muttered something about “inappropriate talk” under her breath, but loud enough that you both could hear her. 

“Last time I checked,” Hannah said pointedly at you, though projecting her voice so that you knew it was actually for the other woman’s benefit, “‘inappropriate’ speech is still free speech. So sue me, please.”

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. As a First Amendment litigator, Hannah took Freedom of Speech extremely seriously. “Han,” you warned. “Let it go. This isn’t a courtroom.”

“Fine,” your friend said, ignoring the mother as she stood up and walked away with her stroller. “I’m just worried about you,” she said. “The last time you jumped headfirst into a relationship without really knowing the guy, you ended up married for nine years.”

You hated that she was right– you did have a track record of impulsive relationship decisions. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” you offered, reaching out to squeeze Hannah’s hand across the table. 

“So, do you really see this turning into a long term thing?” Hannah asked, genuinely curious. “Because I’ll support you if you do; I’ll just tell you I told you so if it all falls apart at your feet.”

“I think I do,” you told her, choosing to ignore her jab about rubbing failure in your face. “I know it’s early, but… I’m happy when I’m with him. There’s just the one issue with his–” You paused, not quite sure you wanted to divulge the Lily-sized elephant in your relationship with Bucky just yet.

“One issue with what?” Hannah asked. “And you better not say ‘nothing,’ otherwise I will use my cross examination skills against you,” she threatened. 

Having no desire to subject yourself to that, you relented. “It’s just… he’s got this female best friend–”

“Oh, hell no!” Hannah said, loudly enough to attract the attention of most of the other coffee shop patrons. “Nope, we are not doing this, (Y/N). I will not stand by and watch you go through that all over again.”

Truthfully, this was the reaction you had been expecting. “I’m not the same person I was back then, Han,” you protested. “Bucky’s not Connor, and Lily’s not Danielle.”

You understood your friend’s anger on your behalf. When Connor had promised you there was nothing between him and his childhood best friend, Danielle, you’d naively believed him, despite the gnawing sensation in your gut that told you something wasn’t right with their relationship. It was years before the instinct grew enough to convince you to look at his phone and you had found thousands of text messages between the two of them. You’d promptly thrown up.

His reaction had been textbook. At first, he tried to gaslight you– you didn’t see what you thought you saw; you were taking innocent conversations out of context (though, you weren’t sure how much context the exchanging of nudes really needed). Then, he tried to shift the blame on you– you were never around, always away on deployment or assignments. You emasculated him by getting promoted again and again, until you outranked him, and how was he supposed to live with that? Finally, he love bombed you, showering you with compliments and praise, begging you to forgive him, making promises you knew he would never keep, telling you he’d do anything to get you to stay.

Except for cutting off all contact with Danielle, apparently. He was willing to do anything, anything at all to regain your trust… just not the one thing you’d actually asked of him.

In the end, the divorce had been relatively straight forward. You weren’t stupid. You’d made sure to take screenshots of all of the text conversations between him and his mistress in case he deleted them. You’d even recorded the conversation you had with him when you confronted him, and he’d actually admitted to it. 

There were a lot of things you had disliked about the United States Army, but their stance on cheating hadn’t been one of them. Connor had ended up demoted, and you were able to maintain all of your financial assets without having to shell out anything for spousal support, despite the fact that you had out-earned him by more than double. 

As for Danielle? Well, you became an expert at giving her the cold shoulder and pretending like she didn’t exist.

“You never thought Connor would end up like Connor, either,” Hannah told you pointedly. “And yet.”

You sighed. Your friend had a point, you knew she did, but you just couldn’t imagine Bucky doing that to you. 

“Look, I’m not trying to shit in your cornflakes,” Hannah said. “I love you and I’m worried about you. I don’t want to see you rush into something and make the same mistakes again. That’s all.”

“I know, I know,” you agreed. And you really did. Hannah had been your biggest source of support when your marriage had gone to hell. She’d set you up with your attorney, let you stay with her while your housing situation got sorted, and had been your shoulder to cry on all the nights you had too much to drink and swore you were going to die alone. 

“Look, I promise to not jump into anything crazy,” you assured her. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

*

After saying your goodbyes to Hannah so she could return to her firm, you headed back over to The WarZone, hoping to get yourself absorbed in some work so you could get your mind off of Hannah’s worries before they became your worries, too. Natasha should be arriving shortly for her standing Tuesday appointment, and you were hoping to chat with her for a few minutes once she was done. 

The bell above the entry door rang cheerfully as you pushed your way inside, but the atmosphere in the lobby felt unnaturally heavy. You looked up from your phone to see Rand leaning against the reception desk with his arms crossed, glaring at someone across the room, and Zadie trying to pretend to look busy at her computer.

You followed Rand’s gaze and locked eyes with Bucky. His giant frame was spread out across one of the lounge chairs, and he seemed to have been watching Rand with a puzzled sort of wariness. When he turned to look at you, though, a blinding smile broke across his face that made your knees feel weak.

“Hey, sugar,” he greeted, standing up and making his way toward you. 

You moved to meet him halfway. “Hiya, Sarge,” you said, putting your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him hello. “I missed you.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye as his hands settled on your hips. “I just saw you yesterday.”

“Lotta lonely hours between then and now, Bucky,” you told him evocatively, toying your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

The loud sound of a clearing throat brought your attention back to Rand, who was looking at you in disbelief. “Really?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry–” you said, purposefully ignoring Rand’s meaning. “Where are my manners? Bucky, this is my office assistant, Zadie–” Zadie waved enthusiastically from her perch behind the reception desk, “-- and my Midtown location manager, Rand. Guys,” you said, taking an excited breath, “this is Bucky.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Bucky,” Zadie said enthusiastically, and you knew the orchid and note he had sent you on Saturday had definitely won her over to his side. “Major’s told us so much about you.”

“Yeah,” added Rand through gritted teeth, “we’ve heard an awful lot about you, Mr. Barnes.” You shot him a look, silently pleading for him to be nice, or at least remove himself before he said something offensive.

“It’s nice to meet you both, as well,” Bucky said, ever the gentleman. He made to move, and you highly suspected he was going to try to shake hands with them. While you had no doubt Zadie would be friendly, you wouldn’t put it past Rand to just be a dick for the hell of it, so you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s midsection and drew yourself toward him, keeping him in place.

“So,” you began, hoping to distract him from your manager’s open hostility, “to what do I owe the pleasure? Because it is a pleasure to see you, especially when unexpected.”

Bucky smiled and moved a hand to brush a lock of hair away from your face. “Nat mentioned she was coming down for her weekly visit,” he said. “She invited me to come join her; thought I’d like to check out the place for myself.” He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially: “And if I just so happened to run into this pretty girl I’ve had my eye on, well, that would be a bonus.”

His words made your insides dance, leaving you feeling like a giddy teenager. “You’ll have to let me know if she shows up, Sarge,” you teased. “I’ll try to put a good word in for you.”

“You’d do that for me? Thanks, doll,” he grinned.

“Of course, handsome. Where is Nat, anyway?” you asked. The redhead hadn’t been in the lobby when you came in.

“She had to take a phone call. Avengers stuff,” Bucky offered with a shrug. “She shouldn’t be too long.”

As if on cue, the main door opened and Natasha breezed into the lobby. She caught sight of you and Bucky with your arms around one another immediately and threw a knowing smirk your way. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she said. She turned to Bucky and rolled her eyes. “Fury had some questions about the last mission that apparently couldn’t be saved for an email.”

“Fucking bureaucracy,” he muttered. 

“Tell me about it.” Nat’s frown quickly transformed into delighted glee as she rubbed her hands together. “Alright, Barnes. You ready to fuck some shit up?”

“Oh,” chirped Zadie. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff; we didn’t have you down for a doubles’ room. Just your usual single.”

“Zadie, just move them to a VIP room,” you told your office assistant. You turned to Nat. “That should be more than big enough for the both of you.”

“They’re also significantly extra in price,” Rand interjected. 

“Waive the fee,” you said. 

“Sugar,” Bucky said, looking down at you, “that’s not necessary; we can pay the difference.”

“I’m not going to make my boy– er, um… my friends pay for an upgrade I offered them that they didn’t ask for. For fucks’ sake, Rand.” You hoped no one noticed your slipup, but the way Bucky was grinning down at you and squeezing your hip let you know it hadn’t gotten past him at all. 

“No problem, Major,” Zadie said. “Room 5c is available and all ready to go.”

“I’m sure you’re busy being the big boss, doll,” Bucky said as you moved to escort him and Nat to the elevators. You’d be having a chat with Rand later. “But any chance you could join us? I’d really like my first time to be with you.”

“Oh my god,” gagged Natasha. “You’re pathetic, Barnes. Seriously. That was bad.”

“So bad,” you agreed with a laugh, “but it worked.” You grinned at the both of them. ��Yeah, of course I’ll help you pop your rage room cherry.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[mistyresolve]

Could you do a part 2 of "Takedown" with actual smut please? it was so good 💗

| Close Quarters

Word Count - 2.2k

Summary - It's Friday, which means you'll be busy later today helping out Ghost with his training. Only, you didn't expect to see him as early as 4 am. Nor did you expect him to leave you breathless and on the verge of begging for more.

Tags/Warnings - 18+ Smut, Dirty talk, Heavy petting, slight Voyeurism, Grinding, and Edging?

A/N - I could take him...just not in a fight

Takedown

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It was 4 a.m. by the time you got to the training room; most of the lights still turned off for the night. Leaving only the front half of the room illuminated, the back half was visible but still shadowed. Which was fine, it was the reason you came here at this hour. There was never anyone else to worry about or share equipment with. It allowed you time to think. Focus. Work through the stresses of the week without interruptions. 

That was how your days normally started. 

Unless there was someone else lurking in the shadows of the gym. Like there was today. 

A large dark form was hanging from the pull-up bars, their ankles crossed over each other. Hammering out pull-ups like they were nothing. They hadn’t noticed you come in, their attention on their reflection in the mirror to monitor their form and technique. They were wearing a hoodie, large enough to conceal what muscle might be hiding beneath it. The hood up. 

You squinted at the reflection in the mirror to try and catch a glimpse of who it might be. Only their face was half covered. 

If the male wasn’t wearing shorts you might have just shrugged it off and started on your own workout. For if it weren’t for said shorts you would have missed the familiar tattoos on his right leg. A patchwork of art that descended past his sock and disappeared under his shorts. He explained some of them to you once. Your eyes fell to one in particular. A statue of a female body. Her wings outstretched behind her and curving around his thigh. Her strength was still perceptible despite her head and arms being missing, those pieces of her departed her during sometimes of the statue's lifetime. 

A hauntingly beautiful depiction of The Winged Victory of Samothrace. 

When you asked him to explain that tattoo, Simon shrugged and stated that he “simply liked it”.  

He lowered himself back to the ground, noiseless aside from the soft tap of his shoes hitting the floor. He rested his hands on his hips, his wide shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath. 

You debated slipping out of the training room before he saw you. Turned in your direction before you could make up your mind. He was reaching for the towel hanging on the bench behind his when he froze. His eyes find yours in the dark. The was no shock or surprise in his expression. 

Then you realized you could see his expression. 

He was still wearing a mask, just not the one he normally wore. This one was an altitude mask. Designed to mimic the effects of high-altitude environments and restrict airflow to the user, forcing the lungs to work harder. Commonly used for conditioning. 

You tried it once. Nearly died. 

Simon was doing a better job at handling the effects of the mask than you did, but he was still heaving for breath. 

You raised a hand to him in “hello”, offering him a small smile. 

He pulled earbuds from his ears, the sound of his music audible from where you stood. Well, there’s the reason as to why he didn’t hear you come in.  

“What are you doing up?” his voice was muffled slightly from the mask. 

You dropped your gym bag on the floor next to a bench of your own, “Same reason as you, I suppose,” you took a seat, kicking off your slides, “You sleep well?” 

He shook his head as he made his way over to you, “Didn’t sleep at all. You?” He definitely looked tired, something you could see even in the dark. His accent always gets a little thicker when he is nearing his limit. His words slurred together, a verbal representation of what his thoughts felt like. 

As he neared, you could make out more of his face. He looked younger than you had imagined. Softer, even. He still looked like a battle-hardened male, with strong edges and chiselled features. Just…less pirate-esque. 

He was handsome. From what you could see.   

You had to force yourself to look away from him. This was the most of his face you’d seen and it felt like you were seeing him naked. It felt personal.    

“Just an early bird. Did you just get here?” you toed into your shoes, leaning down to tighten the laces. You felt flurry butterflies in your stomach when his own shoes came into your line of vision. His proximity had you reminding yourself to behave. You’d had boyfriends and lovers before, but none of them made your toes curl like Simon Riley did. None of them made you dizzy with a mere look your way.   

“Got here a little while ago,” it was strange to see him outside of the usual military garb. It was stranger that it was strange. You’ve been working with the 141 for almost a year now and don’t know any more about him now than you did when you met him. You understood his personality and the complexity of him. His mannerisms have also become familiar to you, but you didn’t know very much about his civilian life. Or his life before the army.

He leaned his shoulder into the wall next to you, his arms crossed over his chest, “What are you working on?”

“Just cardio today, I’m still a little sore from you throwing me around the other day,” that and later today you’d be back to helping him with his training, “How much longer do you plan on being here?” 

“Sick of me already?” 

“No. Not at all,” you breathed out a laugh and looked up at him from your seat. His eyes were heavy as he looked down at you. You didn’t allow yourself to decipher whether it was from exhaustion or something a little more carnal. He was close enough to you that if you slid off the bench and onto your knees you’d be at just the right height to—

“I’m meeting up with Price in an hour,” his rumbling voice snapped you out of your fantasy.

You stood up from the bench, turning to face him fully. He watched your every move with fervored intent, his gaze dragging down your body, “Why? What do you need?” he drawled. 

The air in the room turned heavy as the two of you exchanged desperate, wordless pleas. This wasn’t the first time you and him found yourselves in this situation. Both of you fighting the urge to devour the other. Neither was brave enough to take the first step. 

He had an hour…

You took a step closer, close enough that if you lifted a finger you’d touch him. He stilled attention wholly on you now. With chilled fingers you lifted the hem of his sweater, running them up his still sweat-covered skin. You could feel his muscles retract at your cold touch, but he leaned into this feeling rather than pull away. He hissed and his eyes squeezed shut, his expression wanton. You dragged your nails across his chest, and one of his hands shot out to grasp yours, “What do you need?” he asked again, this time his voice dripped with honey.

…You could work with an hour. 

“You,” you breathed, the hand he left free sliding down to his waistband. You stopped before going further, head tilting to the side. You weren’t going to go any further until he said it was okay. 

He began to nod his head, “Take what—”

The doors to the training room creaked open and entered a soldier. His head was down, bobbing to whatever music was playing in his earbuds. The room was too dark for him to see you two clearly back here, but panic still exploded in your chest. You jumped back from Ghost like his skin burned you, your gazes locked onto each other. His eyes were wide. Wild with excitement and shock. You had a feeling your expression matched his. 

The soldier walked into the bathroom, blissfully unaware of the two shadows at the back of the room. Who were mere moments away from heavy petting and grinding. 

Your mood deflated, but when you turned back to Ghost, his breaths were coming in fast. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He had been eager for you to touch him. The heavy bulge outlining his shorts was evidence enough. You feared your blush was bright enough that it was glowing. 

“Ghost,” you started but he was already reaching for you, pulling you until you were flush with him. Where you could feel his hard length for yourself, feel it press into your abdomen. He made an experimental roll of his hips, searching for any time of friction.

“How quiet can you be?” he huffed, his hands sliding from your arm to your ass, lifting you to your tippy toes so your core was closer to his. 

You stifled your moan with a hand, which should have been answer enough, “Not very.” 

Then he was moving, “Grab your stuff,” he was already moving to grab yours when his phone rang. The noise was offensive, and he swore when he took it out of his pocket. He shot you an apologetic look before answering, “Captain,” the heat in between your legs studdered and annoyance took its place. You could see his own frustrations at the situation, and at whatever Price had to say, “Sounds like a shitshow.” 

You plopped back down on the bench, defeated. Price would be whisking Ghost away now. When Ghost turned around to you one more time, you saw your opportunity. You quickly lifted the front of your shirt, flashing him. 

First, there was shock, but it was quickly followed by a cheeky grin. Not that you could see it, but you could tell it was hiding beneath that mask. He reached out a hand, his fingers dancing across your exposed skin. You shuddered underneath him as he rubbed a thumb across your hardening nipple. You bit down on your lip to keep the moan from spilling from your mouth. 

“Yeah,” he spoke into the phone, but his eyes were on you, analyzing your every action and reaction to him. You arched into him, and he immediately understood. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hands dropped to between your legs, pressing your fingers into your weeping cunt through your pants. A wet spot already appearing. Your other hand covered his cock, using your whole hand to rub at him. 

He groaned but quickly covered it by clearing his throat, his brows knit together, “Understood,” he promptly hung up the phone. He jerked his chin at you, and ordered “Let me see.” 

You spread your legs apart, fingers still making slow circles. He grabbed at both your wrists, holding them away from both yours and his body. 

“You have no idea how bad I want you right now,” he growled.

“But you have to go,” you taunted. 

If Price called him at this time of day, it was probably urgent. Especially if they were going to meet in an hour anyway. 

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know you were right, “You’re not to touch yourself until we’re alone again.” 

He had every intention of finishing this off. He just needed to go deal with whatever Price was needing him for. And he wanted you to be desperate for it when it happened. He wanted you to be thinking about him all day. He wanted you to be a mess for him. 

“How long will that take?” you twisted your hips, bringing yourself to the edge of the seat, using it you grind yourself on. He yanked you up off the chair. He wasn’t going to allow you to have any sort of pleasure. 

“I’ll be back for the training this afternoon,” he maneuvered you both so you were standing in front of the mirror, your arms now pinned behind your back, shirt still hiked up. Your chest, fully exposed. He towered over you from behind, his presence remained domineering. You watched yourself in the mirror. The position was entirely submissive. Vulnerable. He had barely done anything and you already looked fucked out. 

He pulled your arms tighter so your back bowed, his free hand coming to cup a breast, squeezing hard, “Say it,” he ran his hand to your inner thigh, this thumb grazing your now throbbing pussy. 

“I won’t touch myself,” you were about to start begging him.  

“That’s a good girl,” he purred. 

The soldier from before walked back out of the bathroom having changed into his workout clothes. 

Ghost made no move to cover you back up. The soldier still had yet to notice you two at the back but your heart still hammered against your chest. Adrenaline flooded your bloodstream once more.  

Finally, he pulled down the front of your shirt for you before letting go of your wrists. You nearly collapsed to the floor, your knees threatening to betray you. He guided you back to the bench, “Get out of here before I change my mind and I end up being late.” 

Hand to Hand

A/N - I have every intention of making a third part to this. But I want to make this as immersive as possible so you guys are going to have to wait just like the reader 😈

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