#i appreciated it but i was also like... i need to get through this doorway.

[siobhanromee]

found a way to describe my gender to cis people!

[yummymitzy]

It means everything to me.

Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?

Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI

WC: 3,154 

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader

————♡————

Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.

You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.

You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right? 

As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.

After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated. 

Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.

There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.

“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.

“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.” 

“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.

As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.

Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings. 

You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking. 

“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.

The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.  

But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.

It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.

“Fella did me wrong.”

“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.

“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.

————♡————

You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started. 

You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision.   The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.

The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too. 

Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play. 

After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game. 

“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”

Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.

“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.

“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright. 

Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap. 

Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?

Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.

Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat. 

————♡————

You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.

“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.

“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.

“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.

Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you. 

Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.

You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.

As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.

Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.

“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze. 

You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?

The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door. 

“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.

“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.

“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.

You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.  

Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.

That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips. 

“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.

“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.

“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.

“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.

Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.

The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.

With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you. 

She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.

“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out. 

Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches. 

The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.

She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.

“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.

“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb. 

“Go ahead and cum, baby.” 

To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines. 

“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers. 

You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly. 

“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.

“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy. 

The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck. 

Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking. 

She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more. 

You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now. 

Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.

“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.

Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.

“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.

“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.

[charliemwrites]

Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.

Content: Violence, Previous Injury (mentioned), Panic Attack (non-descriptive)

Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.

Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.

Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.

Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.

He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.

Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…

It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.

That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).

So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.

But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.

Johnny’s solution?

“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”

Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.

Mission: accomplished.

Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.

“Luv?”

You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.

“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.

“A word?”

You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.

Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.

Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.

“Sweetheart?”

You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”

Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.

There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.

And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.

When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.

Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.

“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”

It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.

“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”

There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.

“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”

You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.

“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”

The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—

“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”

“But…”

“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”

“Y-you’re not?” you warble.

“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”

“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.

He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”

He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.

“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn’t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”

You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.

“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”

It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”

He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.

“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”

You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.

“Kyle.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Look into that knob from the lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”

“You’ve got it.”

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Masterlist

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (37/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The night on the boat comes to an end.

Warnings: 18+ (female masturbation (vaginal fingering), light voyerism (auralism), mentions of: sex, oral, choking, cream pie, free use (if you squint you'll miss it)), fluff

Word Count: 4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: happy Lando win everyone!!! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

“I think it's fantastic that you want to work with me,” Charles mumbles into the mirror as you brush your teeth in the tiny bathroom of the boat. 

It's now one o'clock in the morning, the cocktail glasses and shot glasses have been rinsed and are halfway tidily stowed away - the alcohol has put a spanner in the works when Charles accidentally dropped a glass. 

“I thought so,” you reply with a grin. “Otherwise you wouldn't have given me the contract for Christmas.” You spit the toothpaste foam into the sink and wash your mouth out with water. “But I'm also glad that you want to work with me. It really means a lot to me.”

Charles smiles at you. “Of course I want to work with you,” he replies and rinses his mouth out too. “Did you really think I'd bring someone else onto my team when my best friend is perfect for the job?” 

You look at him incredulously. “You didn't know if I was perfect for the job.”

Charles' cheeks flush a little. “Okay, you got me,” he admits. “I only knew the pictures you took for the magazine. And the pictures from Kika. But my gut told me it was the right decision.” He smiles lovingly at you. “Just like it was the right decision to share our first apartment.”

Warmth shoots into your face. Touched by his words, you look down. “I agree.” 

When you look at him again, he smiles fondly. “Best deal I've ever made.” He puts his toothbrush in his pocket and doesn't even realize how much his words touch you. “Are you looking forward to spending so much time with me?”

“Of course,” you reply, ”after all, thanks to you, I can travel the world and earn money at the same time.”

Charles rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. “Isn't my company enough for you? Isn't that enough of a reward?” he teases you and leans against the doorframe while you brush your hair. 

“That, my dear, is an incredibly nice perk.”

“Of course,” Charles grins and follows you back into the bedroom. 

You stop in front of the large bed before turning to your roommate. “Who's sleeping where?”

“You can have the big bed. I usually use it when I go out on the boat in the summer, but you're welcome to take it. I'll just take one of the small ones,” he offers. 

You shake your head vehemently, only to regret it for a moment - the alcohol has affected you a little more than you thought. “But it's your boat and your bed. You should have it.” You purse your lips. “Besides, you've had a lot more to drink than I have. You'll definitely need the whole place to sober up.” You can barely suppress the grin on your face. 

“It was maybe two or three shots more. And only because you just poured them without me being able to resist,” he defends himself. “A small bed is enough for me. Take the big one, please.”

You remember the two of you standing in front of the bed in your first apartment after spending the evening at Kika's. How you agreed to share the bed so that he wouldn't get a sore back. And you're only too happy to offer to share the bed in front of you again - but with the ulterior motive that there are still several beds actually free and you want to maintain a healthy distance between you, you can't suggest sharing the bed without it seeming strange. 

“All right,” you finally concede and smile at him. “Thanks.” You rummage through your bag looking for your sleeping clothes until you realize you've left them at home. “Shit.”

“What is it?” your friend asks, pulling a shirt out of his backpack. 

You rub your forehead with your hand. “I forgot my sleeping clothes.”

Charles laughs. “I told you there was a chance we could spend the night here.” He shakes his head with a smile and tosses you the shirt in his hand. “Here. I've got a second one with me.”

Without having to move much, you catch the shirt. The fabric is soft and warm in your hand. “Are you sure? I don't want you to -”

“Don't worry,” he interrupts you before pulling something else out of his pocket and throwing it in your direction. They are short sports shorts. “I don't have any more shorts with me, but I can sleep in a shirt and boxer shorts if you don't mind.”

You're glad that the lights inside the boat are dimmed - at least he can't see you swallowing hard to get rid of the frog in your throat. “All good,” you smile tightly and put your shirt and shorts on the bed behind you, ”thanks.”

“Not an issue,” he returns your smile and his gaze falls briefly to his clothes on your bed before he looks you in the eye again. “I - um - I just need to take a shower. I hope you don't mind.”

“Go on.” You sit down on the edge of the bed. “I don't think I'm going to fall asleep within the next few minutes. Besides, there are still a few things upstairs. I can just go and get them. Then you'll have a little more privacy.”

“Okay,” he says. “See you in a bit.” He disappears around the corner, where he then enters the bathroom. When you hear the door close behind him and the water running, you get up from the bed to change. You take off your sweater, shirt and bra and quickly slip Charles' shirt on. As his scent envelops you, you lift the collar to your nose like a woman possessed and breathe in the scent. 

You miss his closeness, the feel of his skin on yours. You long for his warmth, the pressure of his embrace. But you can't tell him that without making a fool of yourself, so you silently take in his scent and let the soft fabric fall back onto your body. It almost feels like one of his hugs - but only almost. 

You quickly change into his shorts before folding your clothes neatly and placing them next to your bag on the couch. On bare feet, you walk up the stairs and towards the sun bed. You carefully put the bottles of schnapps and wine back in the basket and try to carry them as carefully as possible. As you walk down the stairs - almost staggering from the alcohol - you can't suppress the clinking. You put the basket down in the kitchen before going back upstairs to get the cushions. 

As you step onto the last step with the cushions in your hands, you stand frozen. 

“Oh fuck” - "just like that’"- ”you - fuck - your mouth feels so good”

Shocked, you stand still on the stairs as if you've been superglued there, your fingers digging into the cushions. 

“You can take it” - "I know, mon amour, I know" - “You're so tight, mon amour”

From where you are, you can hear the water from the shower pattering on the floor. The click of a shower gel bottle being closed. And Charles' voice, panting, echoing through the rooms. 

“So good for me” - "My good little girl" - ”All this just for me”

Heat rises to your face and the blood pulses in your ears as Charles - what? Touching himself in the shower? Doesn't he know you're down here? And is the bathroom door so thin that you can hear him?

You should go upstairs, give him his space and not listen to him pleasuring himself and moaning. But you can't move - you stand rooted to the spot on the last step of the stairs and can do nothing but stare towards the bathroom door. You hear him panting, cursing and the water splashing until your heart is pounding so hard you can almost hear it. 

“Want to stay in your pussy forever,” Charles moans. Is he thinking of someone in particular? Or does he just have a piece of porn playing in his head? 

“You take me so well,” you hear the Monegasque sigh - and it's as if your legs are moving on their own. 

It feels wrong as you lie down in the big bed and slip under the covers. And it feels even more wrong as you spread your thighs. You hear a grunt from the bathroom and the sound shoots straight to your pussy.

Without hesitation, you let your finger glide through your folds and gather your arousal, while your free hand slides under your shirt to slightly pinch your nipple. You bite your lip to stop you from moaning.

„Fuck, mon amour – yes, just like that“, you hear Charles from inside the bathroom as you start to slowly circle your clit. You imagine him standing in the shower, his hand gently stroking his cock and eyes closed. 

The touch of your finger is gentle, not too much but not enough as the motion makes you squirm. You can almost feel yourself dripping on the fabric of his shorts just from thinking about him. 

You think about the dream you had of him, the way it felt so real. How he kissed your heated skin, the way his fingers slid inside you and you shamelessly moaned into his mouth. 

Your finger slides lower, playing with your opening and as Charles groans in the bathroom about „how good you feel around him“ you slide your digit in. You bite into the pillow, drowning out the moans as you pump your finger in and out, while your other hand slides down to play with your puffy clit, your chest rising with every stroke of the pad of your finger against that spot inside you that just feels right. 

You think about the way his thigh felt on your pussy, how he rocked you back and forth, his hand on your throat and his glossy eyes. Tears well in your eyes from the pleasure you’re giving yourself, your hands slick with your wetness and the shorts probably ruined. But you don’t care. All you can think about is Charles as you slide another finger inside. 

Charles, who's standing a few feet away from you in the shower. Charles, who probably fists his cock, looking absolutely devine as the water runs down his chiseled body, helping him finish off faster. Charles, who you wish would get out of the fucking shower, so he could see the mess you’re making in his clothes, on his bed, on his boat.

Charles, who you wish would take you apart, splitting you on his dick as he tells you how pretty you look. How tight you are for him. How good you feel. 

Charles, who you would let do anything to you. Whatever he wants, in any way he wants. You belong to him, body and soul. 

„Come for me, mon amour, so I can fill you up“, he moans loudly and with one last pump of you fingers you come undone, not for you, but for him – even though he doesn’t know. 

Your breathing is ragged as you try to come to your senses, your fingers still thrusting in and out of your drenched folds at a leisurely pace, prolonging your orgasm. You twitch from being on the edge of overstimulation, but you don’t care. Your mind is consumed by the moaning Charles in the bathroom.

When you hear the shower turn off, you quickly wipe your hands on your shirt and pull the blanket up to your chest. You grab your phone and scroll through a few videos on TikTok as Charles comes out of the bathroom in his shirt and boxer shorts. He rubs his hair dry with a towel and when he sees you lying in bed, he suddenly stops as if struck by lightning.

“You're already in bed,” he says in amazement and hangs the towel over the edge of the dresser. 

“Yep.” You look from your cell phone to him and try to look as relaxed as possible - and not as if you've just come to his moans. 

Charles nods curtly and swallows. “Have you - is the bed comfortable?” he asks, running a hand through his damp hair. 

“Very comfortable,” you answer curtly and smile. You purse your lips. “We should sleep. After all - um - tomorrow we shouldn't show up at your mother's too late."

“Good idea,” he agrees with your suggestion. “Do you need anything else? Do you need something to drink? Are you thirsty?”

Not in the way you think, Charles. 

“I've got everything,” you smile, ”thank you.”

“Then - uh - good night,” Charles says, scratching the back of his neck before walking over to his bed and turning out the light. 

“Good night,” you reply, before turning onto your side and snuggling tighter into the covers. Your heartbeat is still pounding in your ears and you feel like your shirt is sticking to your sweaty body. You close your eyes and try to think about something other than Charles' moans, about what happened yesterday. How he felt under you. How good he felt. 

You press your face into the pillow and squeeze your eyes shut to finally fall asleep, to not feel bad for listening to him making himself feel good. But all you can think about is Charles in the shower, his cock in his hand and the moans on his lips. 

-

When you wake up in the morning, light is already streaming in through the large windows. The headache is thankfully limited as you sit up and take a look at your cell phone. The screen shows half past ten and you sleepily swing your legs over the edge of the bed. 

On bare feet, you pad in the direction where Charles had slept, but his bed is already empty and not a single sound comes from the bathroom. Which is a good sign, no?

You slowly climb the stairs to the upper deck, where you finally catch sight of Charles. He's sitting on the sun bed with his back to you, two cups next to him on the wood and a thermos flask. He's still wearing the shirt from last night, but he's put on a pair of long jogging pants, because it is winter after all. As you join him and take your first step outside the sheltered interior, you feel the cold wind blowing around you. Long trousers would definitely not have been a bad idea. 

“Good morning,” you greet him, rubbing your eyes as you plop down next to him on the sun bed. 

“Good morning,” he replies, pouring coffee into one of the cups before handing it to you. He looks at you and points at the shirt. “What happened there?”

You look down at yourself, confused. There are dark stains on the shirt he lent you to sleep in. Stains from your orgasm - stains from your cum because you wiped your hands on the shirt. “Toothpaste,” you lie quickly, hoping he'll buy the lie. 

“How do you feel?” he asks, without mentioning the ‘toothpaste stains’.

You gratefully take the cup from him before shrugging your shoulders. “Better than expected.” As you take a sip of the coffee, it fills you with warmth and makes you feel a little more awake. “And you?”

“Like I could drive the boat into the harbor without wrecking it,” he grins. “But definitely too bad to put up with Arthur for half the day.”

You smile into your cup. “If he gets too much for you, just let me know. Then I'll come and rescue you and distract him a bit,” you offer jokingly.

“If you do that,” he says, a broad grin spreading across his face, ”it would be the best Christmas present you could have given me.” He also takes a sip from his cup before looking out at the ocean in front of you. “I don't want to go back yet.”

Confused, you look at him. “Why not? Aren't you looking forward to Christmas with your family?”

“Yes, I am,” he replies without hesitation. “But - I don't know.” He purses his lips and exhales deeply. “I have the feeling that everything is different between us when we're in Monaco. That it's so forced, I mean. And I just don't want that.”

You look at him before also looking towards the sea. “Is that why you didn't want to go back yesterday? Because you just needed some more time?”

Charles nods slightly. "I just needed more time with you before the everyday life catches up with us. Before we get back to my family and pretend everything is fine.” His voice sounds sad. 

You turn to him. “But everything is fine between us,” you reply. 

He shakes his head. “Then why doesn't it feel that way? Why does it feel like there's a whole ocean between us when we're in Monaco, but when we're here, we're best friends?”

You can understand what he means. Since your mistake the day before yesterday, the distance between you when you're together in the apartment is so palpable that you could almost cut it with a knife. It's as if the apartment is cold and deserted, even though you've only just moved in. It doesn't feel like a home, but like a place where a friendship has been broken.

“I know what you mean,” you confirm. “I just don't know how we can change that. That we can feel like we're here at sea every day.”

The brunette takes another sip of his coffee. “I was thinking about maybe me moving back to the other apartment,” he confesses. When you look at him in astonishment, he shrugs. “Maybe we're just too close, you know? Maybe - I don't know - maybe physical distance would do us good. Distance that goes a bit further than from your bedroom to the couch.” 

You can't find the words to tell him how stupid you think this idea is, which is why you just stare at him. 

“But I can't,” he continues his thought. “I can't - I don't know -” He takes a deep breath before looking at you. “I don't know how I can be without you anymore. I have no idea what happened to make me so consumed by your presence. Another reason I wanted you to work for me. So that I never have to be apart from you. And that may sound selfish, and I'm certainly crossing every boundary we've established in the course of our friendship, but - ”

“I can't be without you either,” you interrupt him before you even know what you're saying. But it's the truth, however you want to interpret it. 

Charles smiles at you as if a huge weight has fallen from his shoulders. “It feels like an invisible string that keeps drawing me back to you. I can't explain it any other way.”

You nod slightly. “Me neither.” You purse your lips. “I don't want you to move out, or for this distance in the apartment to drive us apart. I want things to stay the way they are. Like this. That we can - I don't know - get drunk and laugh in the evenings, that we can watch movies and have fun with our friends.” You sigh. “Just a normal friendship.”

Your words sound convincing, even though friendship is the last thing you want. The stains on your shirt are proof enough.

“I want that too,” he agrees. “We can manage, can't we? You and me both.”

You nod. “As long as we stay together.”

“As long as we stay together.”

A short time later, you take the boat back and Charles steers it back to its place without any major problems. He leaves the yacht first and when you step onto the wooden jetty ten minutes later, Thomas gives you a friendly smile. 

“I hope your trip was pleasant, Madame?” he asks. 

“It was wonderful. Thank you very much,” you reply and make your way to where Charles collects you again without drawing attention to yourselves. You spend the drive home in silence, but the silence is pleasant. 

“Go and get yourself ready” Charles smiles as you enter the apartment together. “We'll leave as soon as you're done. And don't forget to pack a full overnight bag this time.”

You put your bag in your bedroom and roll your eyes, playfully annoyed. “Is there a dress code for today? Do I have to dress particularly fancy?” you ask him. 

He shakes his head. “Just wear something you feel comfortable in. Maman doesn't think it's so important that we're all dressed up at the table at Christmas and behave as if we're at the prince's table.” 

“All right. I'll have a quick shower and get ready,” you say before disappearing into the bathroom, where you shower, wash your hair and get ready in no time at all, right down to your outfit. In your room, you're standing in front of your wardrobe, examining your clothes, when a dress catches your eye. It's black and comes down to your mid-thigh, with long sleeves that flatter at the wrist. You slip into a pair of dark tights and matching shoes before packing your overnight bag. When you've finished - and checked your bag several times - you leave your room.

“Charles?”

“I'm in the living room,” he calls across the apartment. When you enter the room, he's sitting on the couch. He's wearing black chinos and a white shirt with the top buttons undone. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his handsome face. “You look wonderful.” He gets up from the couch.

Heat shoots into your cheeks. “You don't look too bad yourself, considering your mom doesn't expect fancy clothes,” you joke, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

Your friend looks down at himself. “This is my chill outfit. I sit on the couch like this every night,” he laughs and reaches for the car keys and his wallet on the coffee table. “Are you ready?”

You nod. “We're ready to go.”

The rickety Renault takes you to Charles' mom's house pretty quickly, and she's already waiting for you when the both of you pull up. 

She embraces you with a smile as you leave the car. “Cherié! Merry Christmas! You look fabulous!”

You return her hug warmly. “Thank you, Pascale. You look wonderful too.”

She briefly puts her hands on your cheeks and smiles at you before turning her attention to her son. “You both look so beautiful!” She kisses Charles first on his left cheek, then on his right. “Now come on, the others are already here.”

As you follow her, you feel Charles' presence next to you. You smile up at him. “Thank you for taking me with you.”

There's a twinkle in his green eyes that makes your knees go weak. “Thank you for putting up with me here.”

Together you enter the house, where Pascale takes your bag from you. She turns to Charles. “You didn't tell me if you'd both be staying here. But Enzo has brought some good wine, so I've prepared your room. Then you don't have to drive home and can both enjoy the evening,” she smiles. "I've also made the bed."

Confused, you look at Charles, who stares after his mother as she climbs the stairs. “The bed?”

“Yep,” he replies curtly, without the slightest hint of emotion in his voice. 

“Bed - singular?” When he doesn't answer, you stand in front of him so that he has to look at you. “Charles, bed - singular?”

Charles' gaze fixes on you. He nods slightly. “Bed - singular.”

[daintyys]

all i wanted was you

fem!reader x touchy bestfriend!james potter, 500 words

modern/nonmagical au. pls send james reqs!! also this isnt proofread i needed to post it urgently. ps happy thanksgiving

"Have you eaten yet?" James asked, leaning in the doorway staring at you. Your cramps were unbearable, and the only way you could get any sort of comfort was curling in a ball on the bedroom floor. You mumbled a response, which he didn't hear. He made his way over to you, and sat on the floor next to you.

"Your period?" He questioned, rubbing your arm. You nodded and closed your eyes. His touch was so comforting. "I'm sorry, love." James whispered, helping you sit up.

You groaned, and wrapped your arms around your stomach. "I want to stay on the floor, James." He shook his head and took your hand, standing you up. "You need to eat, come here." He said, putting his hand firmly on your lower back.

He took you to the kitchen of your flat and you sat at the table. You tried not to cry as your cramping became worse. You laid your head on the table and brought your knees to your chest, trying to relieve pressure in your abdomen. "I know it hurts but you need to eat." Your best friend said as he put a bowl of soup in front of you. He sat beside you and adjusted his glasses so he could see you better.

You ate slowly, and once you were done, your cramps hadn't gotten much better. "Feel any better, Y/N?" James questioned, intertwining your fingers with his. You shook your head. "Nothings working, Jamie." You groaned. Standing, you made your way back to your bedroom and flopped on your bed. James followed, and crawled into bed with you.

He laid in between your legs with his head on your chest, keeping you warm. You sighed, his warmth was helping with your cramping. "Feels good, doesn't it, love?" He cooed, twirling your hair in his fingers. You nodded and smiled as you traced his spine. He laughed appreciatively and looked up at you.

"You're beautiful, y'know." James flattered.

You blushed, and kissed his forehead gently. "Most would say that was flirting with me, James." You hummed.

"It was." James crooned, moving his hands under your back to hug you closer. You hummed in approval and ran your fingers through his hair. "'M sorry you feel so sick, baby." He sighed. "I feel better now that you're taking care of me." You admitted. James squirmed a little, adjusting his position to look up at you again.

"A kiss would take all the pain away, Y/N." He grinned, and his glasses were lopsided on his face. You nodded, and he cupped your jaw in his hands, gently kissing you.

He pulled away, face burning red.

"You're right, that did help a lot." You smiled at him. James giggled nervously , and hid his embarrassed face in your chest. "Don't be embarrassed," You whispered. "I like you too."

You felt him laugh against your chest, and you soon found your bodies intertwined, being each other's one sense of complete comfort.

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now | 2 |

in which readers true feelings are revealed.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings/tags: angst again (whoops) miscommunication (it’s short dw) fluff, reader is hungover lol, spencer is handsomely disheveled (moans) mentions of blueberry muffins being readers favourite type of muffin (sorry for not being vague but also if you don’t like blueberry muffins??? why) some tears, some swearing, some kissing, suggestiveness at the end of you squint (WHOOPS *evil smirk*) no use of y/n!! wc: 2.1k a/n: call me slim shady because i am back!!! i procrastinated writing this because i was scared everyone was secretly judging my writing and actually hated it and a second part would be a stupid idea but THEN i realised that was a little bit silly so im here B) part one got over 1000 notes (INSANE) all the support has been so so lovely—every note, reblog, and comment means the world to me, thank you!! i hope this part is okayy, feedback is always appreciated :) i hope you enjoy it you choose to read!!! <3 p.s kissing scenes are so difficult to write, i think i done absolutely awful!!!so let’s ignore that…. if you haven’t already and you’d like to, you can read part one here!

Your eyelids twitched as the early morning sun filtered through your bedroom. What was usually a calming wake-up call now felt like being blinded.

You burrowed your face into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to dull the throbbing in your head. This is why you didn’t drink often.

Asides from the obvious headache and nausea, you always seemed to wake up with a sense of dread; ‘hangxiety’—a friend had called it once. It was creeping up on you now, and even though you weren’t sure exactly what you had done, you knew it was bad. You flipped onto your back, fixing your gaze to the ceiling as if it could tell you what irreparable mistakes you had made last night.

It couldn’t, of course. The only thing you had realised is that you should probably coat it in a new layer of paint soon.

“How’re you feeling?”

You shot up, eyes widening at the sight of a man in your doorway. A man whose sleepy voice and disheveled hair threatened to make you melt, but a man who should not be in your doorway, nonetheless; Spencer.

Your brain was quick to supply you with information then, your memory coming back in hazy remnants. You were upset so you…called Spencer for the first time in months. Yikes. He didn’t answer so you turned to a bottle of high end whiskey instead—yikes, again—and passed out on your couch, only to wake up to your ex-boyfriend in your apartment. Cue more sobbing, a pathetic attempt at asking—no, more like begging—him to get back together with you, and that was it. Well, mostly. There was also the promise of discussing your breakdown in the morning. The morning, which was now.

What the fuck.

“Like I’ve been napalmed.” You weren’t sure you were just referring to your raging hangover.

That prompted a raspy kind of chuckle from him and Jesus Christ—you really shouldn’t have called, because it was going to be infinitely harder to watch him leave when he inevitably told you you were sad loser who needed to get a grip and move on—except, he’d be a lot nicer than that, wouldn’t he? Because even if things were over between you, he was still the sweetest person you had ever met and he’d never say anything to intentionally hurt you. Maybe things would be easier if he did. If he wasn’t so sickeningly perfect—if he just insulted you in the way you were certain you deserved, then maybe you’d get over him quicker.

“So, I-ah-uber’d breakfast—“

Your inner turmoil came to a screeching halt at those words.

“You uber’d? You?”

He scoffed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“The team’s been very into it lately and I always finish my paperwork first so it only makes sense that I—stop laughing! I can uber!”

“Sorry! I just can’t imagine the great Doctor Reid stooping to the levels of a fast food delivery app. Do you ever order to the wrong place?”

“No.” he said, unconvincingly. “Well, only once—“

You were laughing again.

He whined, turning on his heel.

“Just take your aspirin and hurry up!” He grumbled petulantly as he left the room, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

After a quick freshen up and taking the pills placed on your bedside table—as per his request—you padded through to the living room, joining Spencer on the couch.

You gasped delightedly as he pulled out muffins from a brown paper bag. To be more specific, blueberry muffins; your favourite.

“Did you know that blueberries are good for fighting hangovers? They’re rich in vitamin C, which helps break down and metabolise blood alcohol. Muffins too, they—what? Do I have something on my face—“

“No! No, sorry,” You had been caught staring—ogling, more like. “I just missed…that.”

“What? My incessant rambling?” He was joking, but you could hear the insecure twinge in his voice—the one that told him he was too much. Over the course of your relationship, you had showed him that he didn’t have to think like that around you—that he was never too much; he was perfect in your eyes. You hated that he doubted that now.

“Yes, actually.” You tried to keep your tone light, unserious. But there was nothing unserious about just how badly you had missed the man sitting beside you. How you could hear his voice in your mind when you drove late at night, giving you statistics on accidents. Or how on other late nights, you swore you could feel his hands ghosting over your skin—only to find out it was your imagination.

If he could see how truthful you were being, he didn’t acknowledge it, turning his attention back to the coffee table.

“I’ll, um, save you the facts on how beneficial coffee is for hangovers, anyway.” He smiled awkwardly, shuffling a paper coffee cup to where your muffin sat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “for the coffee, not the withholding of information—i’m a real fiend for coffee facts…especially when they’re related to curing hangovers!” You said a little too cheerily, trying to alleviate the awkward tension. Although, that only seemed to make it worse.

Spencer just huffed out a little laugh in response, taking the wrapper off of his muffin.

The rest of breakfast went by in silence. Not the comfortable silence you always seemed to have with Spencer—when you were together, you reminded yourself—but a strained one. The kind of silence that occurs when there’s something left unsaid, and you’re just waiting for someone to spit it out.

Spencer broke first.

“So we should probably talk…about last night.”

You finished the remainder of your coffee, setting the empty cup down before turning your whole body to Spencer, tucking your legs up underneath you.

“Right, yeah…”

A beat passed, Spencer’s eyes darting around your face—assessing you.

For someone who had imagined this conversation in your mind countless times, you certainly weren’t saying much.

“I—uh…was very drunk.”

Something in him shifted, like he was putting up imaginary walls.

“So you didn’t mean…any of it?” His brow furrowed, his nose twitching slightly.

“Well no, but I—“ You what? Meant every word you said and more? You couldn’t just say that. You had just got a small part of Spencer back and you didn’t want to ruin it by coming on too strong.

He waited for you to add something, anything, to show him that maybe, maybe there was a tiny part of you that still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. But you didn’t. You just sat there, playing with the fabric of your—his—t-shirt.

He couldn’t do it.

He was so tired of loving people only for them to leave like he had meant nothing to them. Was that all he was to you? Someone you could call when your inhibitions were lowered, looking for comfort? He would do anything to be back in your life again, but he couldn’t be a person of convenience; someone you only wanted when you were lonely.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down the tightness in his throat.

“You were drunk and you got carried away, I get it. I think I better go though—“

“What? No, I—“ You bobbed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the words necessary to keep him here. There were too many of them and yet none at all. None except for three. Three words that you wished you had the courage to say months ago, or weeks ago, or last night. But you never claimed to be a courageous person, and you weren’t about to spill your heart out again only for it to end up in rejection.

Spencer stood, making his way to your bedroom to grab his shoes and coat. He didn’t care about his other clothes, he could buy more—he just needed out before he broke.

You sat dumbfounded on the couch, willing yourself to do something, say something. It was like you were frozen. And you stayed frozen. As Spencer shuffled around your bedroom, as he returned to the living room—completely avoiding your gaze—even as he searched for his keys. You hadn’t realised he had driven over here. He didn’t usually drive unless he had to get somewhere urgently. Were you someone worth seeing urgently to him?

He picked up his keys, heading for your door and only then did you realise how dire the situation was. If he left now you weren’t sure he would ever come back.

“No—wait, Spencer!” You stammered, lunging off the couch to try and stop him. He unlocked the door, moving to leave when you grabbed onto his jacket sleeve.

“Please don’t—I love you!”

“What?”

He turned to face you and you noticed just how wrecked he looked—not at all dissimilar from how you had for the last few months. Had he looked like that the whole time?

You must’ve been staring because when you came back to your senses he was calling your name exasperatedly.

“Do you mean it?”

You were fed up living like this; harbouring so much love for someone and not being able to express it. Even if he didn’t love you back, even if he was over you, you couldn’t go another moment without at least telling him how you felt.

“Yes,” you heaved, “I love you—I never stopped loving you, I was just…” You knitted your brows together, unsure how to phrase what you were feeling.

“I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and that’s…terrifying. I thought the way I felt was wrong, like—when you were on cases, I missed you so much, more than I thought humanely possible and—well, I never wanted to be the kind of girl to base her happiness on another person because that’s how you get hurt. So, I thought the only way to combat that was by…distancing myself. I thought if you weren’t in my life anymore then I’d be able to get a grip and become more independent—“ you huffed, trying to stop the wobble of your voice. “but it didn’t work, because then I was just missing you twice as much, except I couldn’t see you at all—“

“You could’ve answered my messages, we could’ve—“

“So you could return your key? Then things would actually be over. Why do you think I ignored your messages?”

“Why do you think I kept messaging? Angel, I was never going to return that key—at least not willingly—I just wanted to see you, to see if you were doing just as horribly without me as I was without you. You know, I couldn’t even focus on cases—Hotch even suggested I take some time off.”

You frowned, your voice impossibly small. “I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Don’t apologise, you were dealing with your emotions in the best way you knew how. I just wish…” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I wish I hadn’t let you go so easily.”

His eyes were shining and—God, you wished you could take it all back. All the pain you had caused him, caused yourself, just because you were too scared to talk about your feelings.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y’know, I read a book on astrophysics because it reminded me of you. I didn’t understand any of it but I couldn’t put it down. I still—“ you let out a watery chuckle. “still have it in my bedroom somewhere.”

Spencer smiled, swiping under your eye at a tear that must’ve escaped.

“Yeah? Maybe I can read it to you—help you understand it.”

“I’d like that.”

You didn't know much about celestial bodies or the ultimate fate of the universe, but you could've sworn you'd seen the stars pictured in that book in Spencer’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Say it again.” He mumbled, tilting his head down so that your faces were just inches apart.

“I love you.”

And then his lips were on yours, impossibly soft and everything you had been missing since you had broken up. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed and all you could do was sigh into him because you knew the feeling.

He leaned back all too soon, resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, I should probably go—“ He smirked, but you cut him off before he could continue his teasing.

“You’re not funny.”

He narrowed his eyes, sucking his teeth.

“I don’t know, I—“

You pressed a firm hand on his chest, bunching the cotton of his t-shirt into a fist.

“Stop. Stay—we can have a pyjama day and maybe for dinner, you can show me just how tech savvy you’ve become and uber us some food—“

He rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut before pressing his lips to yours with more force this time.

“Stop talking.”

[leclerc-hs]

lucky - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated. Warnings: BAD FRENCH??? (I don't speak French...please correct me so I can make some edits!!! Would be greatly appreciated), angst!!!!!, no smut but maybe if I make a part 2? Word Count: 1,332 Author's Note: I'm thinking I want to make another part to this maybe??? Idk what do we think. It was just a random thought that came to mind. I didn't edit or proofread. Please fix my French if you can!!! xo UPDATED FRENCH: edits thanks to @dannyramirezwife!!!! PART 2 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Ah, merde!" You exclaimed, dashing up the stairs of your apartment building. As usual, you were running late, but this time it was for your own dinner party. Your hands were full, and the constant vibration of your phone in your coat pocket suggested your friends were wondering were you were.

In the home stretch, you reached your door, ready to unlock it. To your confusion, the door swung wide open just as you approached. Charles leaned against the frame, a hand towel casually slung over his shoulder, like he owned the place.

"Où étais-tu tout ce temps-là, Lucky?" Where have you been all this time? Lucky. Your childhood nickname. His lucky charm. It warmed your heart to hear.

His eyebrows were scrunched as you stepped through the doorway, brushing past his shoulder and into the living room where all your friends sat chatting loudly. A small speaker played music in the background softly while your friends all chatted and laughed. It took a moment for them to notice your arrival.

"She's here!" "Mon dieu, finally." "I am so hungry." echoed through the room as your friends expressed their relief and hunger. Their flushed cheeks suggested they had indulged in heaps of wine while waiting for your arrival.

"See Charles, no need to have an aneurysm. I knew she would show up soon," Joris teased, winking in your direction before casting a glance over your shoulder. No doubt, Charles towering over your frame behind you.

"Je suis désolé," I'm sorry. You apologized repeatedly, sensing the tension. After urging everyone into the dining room with a wave, you added, "Sit, please," prompting your friends to take their seats. You hurried into the kitchen, dropping your bags by the kitchen table.

"Où étais-tu?" Where were you? You felt his hands on your hips as you opened the wine fridge to grab more bottles of wine for the table.

Butterflies. The warmth of his hands made your stomach flutter.

"Got caught up at work and missed the bus," You explained in a huff. "I had to walk all the way back here."

His hands tightened on your waist, turning you around to face him. His eyes were darker than normal, eyebrows still furrowed. "Mon dieu! Why didn't you call me?" My God. He seemed frustrated even more so now. The tone in his voice was rather sharp. "It's freezing outside."

"Ca va, Cha." I am fine. You reassured him, gently moving away from his embrace. You carried the bottles into the dining room and placed them on the table. Charles following, a large pasta dish in hand for the table that everyone immediately dug into as soon as it hit the table.

As the guests eagerly dug into the meal, you settled into your seat, intending to fill your wine glass. However, Charles beat you to it, taking the last seat beside you and topping off your glass, his actions notably conspicuous.

The dynamic between you and Charles was far from straight-forward. Best friends since childhood, who also hook up, who also don't tell their friends about it? It was complex for sure.

You both didn't look at it as an exclusive thing either though. You both go on your fair share of dates. More Charles than you. Yours never went further than a few dates for fun.

Since Charles and his ex-girlfriend last broke up, he has been more needy and more possessive of you. You figured he would get back together with her at some point, like he always did. It was just a ticking time bomb at this point. You, counting down the days until he takes her back.

"Hot date?" You heard Arthur ask from across the table, winking at you. "How was it?" You felt Charles hand slip to your thigh under the table, gripping it tightly.

You truly were coming from work tonight. But you did have a date last night. One that you didn't need Charles to hear about.

"Non," No. You felt your cheeks redden, a dead giveaway that you in fact did go on a date. "I got stuck at work, imbécile," you stuck your tongue out playfully at Arthur. Everyone laughing immediately, except Charles.

Charles squeezed your thigh again, clearly wanting your attention. You turn your head to him giving him a pointed look. Saying stop. Saying please wait until later. He understood, slipping his hand off of your thigh and faking a smile for the table as he falls into conversation with the rest of the table.

After a few hours, with everyone in a cheerful state of inebriation and satisfied bellies, the apartment was finally cleaned up and emptied. The lively chatter had faded away, leaving behind a quiet space. The only person lingering was Charles, sprawled comfortably on your couch, waiting.

You weren't privy to the excuse he had given to avoid going home with the others, but at the moment, you didn't care. No one seemed to question or pay much attention to him staying behind, as if it were a routine occurrence.

"Qui c'est?" Who is it? He sat like he was on his throne. Except it was your couch. Looking at you, like you owed him every explanation.

"Cha, s'il te plaît," please.

You could feel him getting more frustrated by the minute. You loved him to death. He was your best friend. Your person. You fought like siblings sometimes. But, you also fought like lovers.

You didn't want to get into who you were going on dates with. It was casual. Just for fun. It's not like Charles is officially yours.

"Non, dis-moi." No, tell me. You noticed him clench his hand into a fist just slightly.

"It was just a date, no one important." You waved him off. Taking a seat beside him on the couch. Silence followed. As if he was lost in his own head.

"Merci," you thanked him. For setting up dinner. He is the only other person with a key to your place after all.

His eyes flicked from you to the TV. He couldn't look at you while he said these next words.

"I don't want you to date."

It was unfair. And he knew it too. Which is why he couldn't look you in the eyes as he said it. He doesn't deserve to tell you that. He doesn't deserve to feel this way.

You let out a loud sigh, "Cha. You can't say things like that." You wanted to cry honestly. "Let's keep this simple, oui?"

You both were too blind. Blind to see that no one else would ever make you happier. But, you both were too scared to fully commit. Because you knew once you did, that was it. There could be nobody after you. There could be nobody after him.

"J'en ai marre," I'm sick of it. You felt him stand up from the couch. He was now pacing in front of you, the sound of the TV barely heard as he raised his voice. "J'en suis malade de mentir," I am so sick of lying.

You knew what he meant. You felt that way too. But it wasn't time. You both weren't ready to make it official. It was too scary.

"Assez!" Enough. You exclaimed. You couldn't handle this right now.

"Just go home," you felt shut down. You were not ready for this conversation. You knew Charles patience was wearing thin. But it was unfair. Just because he thinks he is finally ready, does not mean you need to be.

Charles felt as if he could rip out all of his hair. He wanted to pound his fists all over the place, just to get you to give him something. You were completely shut down. He wanted a reaction. He wanted a confession. Nothing you would provide at the moment.

"C'est pas croyable ça," Unbelievable. He said bitterly with a small laugh. "Have fun on your dates."

And with that, he was out the door. Slamming it hard enough that the walls of your apartment shook.

[etheries1015]

Hello! I love the way you write! Would I be able to request the reactions of some of the twst boys to MC telling them they snore (whether it's true or not)? I think Malleus, Riddle, and Azul would have fun reactions, but anyone you feel like writing would be great! Thank you!

Thank you for the compliment heuheu... much appreciated <3

When they snore

Featuring: Malleus, Riddle, Azul, Rook, Vil

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

Malleus

The moment you told him he snores, he was concerned. Was he troubling you with his sleeping habits? Were you unhappy sleeping with the fae because of this, to the point where it was noticeable? The moment the words left your mouth, he began to word vomit.

"Is that an issue? Is my snoring preventing you from getting a night of good rest? I...Suppose I could sleep elsewhere if it will grant you a full night of sleep.." Que him going down a rabbit hole of solutions, you couldn't get a single word in. Eventually, it came time for classes to begin, to which you hadn't the chance to explain your statement to the panicked fae.

When night fell and it was time for bed, his tail swayed sadly as he stood in the doorway. "I suppose I shall sleep out here, my love," He said, as lightning of vibrant green flashed outside your window.

As he turned his back and began to sulk away, you quickly ran up behind him with a bear hug.

"Malleus, would you stop and listen to me for a second?" You laughed, "When I said you snore, I was going to tell you it was cute. Like an animal snoring lightly. You seem so at peace curled up in bed with your light snoring..."

The lightning went away as fast at it had came, and you felt his tail wrap around your waist as he turned to face you, arms pulling you close.

"Ah...ahem. I apologize for my unbecoming behavior before, then. I...was rather saddened at the thought I caused my beloved to lose well-needed sleep."

He's never been called cute before, but he's also never slept in the same bed with another person. So I suppose there's a first for everything <3

Riddle

Snores like a cat. The first time you had slept in the same room, the first thing you noticed was his high-pitched yet soft snores that were short and far between.

The morning you woke up, the first thing you said was; "Did you know you snore?" Riddle blinks at you a couple times before hitting you with his annoyed face (you know the one.)

"Snoring is perfectly normal," He told you, "It's caused by the rattling and vibration of tissues-"

You got a lecture on the scientific reasoning behind snoring. When he finished defending the nature of his sleeping habits, you finally hit him with the "You snore like a little cat! It's cute!"

His face turns as red as his hair, as always when he becomes flustered.

"W-w-wha- a cat?! How dare you compare me to a cat! I..I am not a cat..."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.." You seemed pretty guilty about upsetting him, he muttered "I suppose I'll let it go..." and moved on.

All in all, as long as you aren't losing sleep because of him, he will forgive you for your previous teasing statements. However, from that day forward, you have noticed his ears take a rosy hue with shy glances your way before he heads to bed...

Azul

"Did you know you snore? Pretty loud, too. Is that like...a merman thing?"

His face turns red IMMEDIATELY. He was so embarrassed. The first time he allows someone to be near him in such a vulnerable state, and he blows it by being a snorer. A loud one, at that.

"Snoring is not common for merfolk! Being under the sea, most don't struggle with such a thing...but I would say being above water, the air that goes through my soft palate-"

Great. Another scientific review on snoring. Only Azul, on the other hand, cannot seem to keep eye contact with you.

"Please don't tell anyone. You must sign on it!"

You spent an hour comforting poor Azul, telling him it's nothing to be ashamed of, and giving him lots of hugs and cuddles. But he still continues to insist you sign a NDA to the information you had uncovered.

He was incredibly shy about having you sleep with him again, yet you managed to convince him. Azul is much more insecure than you may think about his image, however, you always seem to break his walls down.

Although, you did notice he began to wear nose strips at night, with books on sleeping habits and potions to help with snoring...old habits truly die hard.

Give him extra cuddles for the existential crisis you had instilled in your poor octo boyfriend <3

Rook

Oh boy. You had no choice but to tell him. He snores like your average forty-year-old dad. You genuinely lose sleep over it, even waking him up

"Rook, Rook. Honey. Please. I can't sleep. Your snoring is just too much, I'm sorry."

He actually finds it kind of amusing? For some reason? He asks you excitedly to tell him more about the things he does when he's sleeping.

He didn't really take you too seriously until he noticed the physical wear and tear. The bags under your eyes...

"Mon Cheri! Your eyes...have you not been sleeping well?"

"Rook. Your snoring. It's horrendous. Please."

He spends an hour doing EVERYTHING under the sun to help his snoring, for your sake! Moving around how his bed is set up, mouth exercises, the way he sleeps...He refuses to use strips, he doesn't like how they feel, and says it prevents his senses from being at their 100%.

He finds a way to help alleviate it, and you end up investing in some sleep time headphones. You make it work, because dealing with his sleeping habits is better than sleeping without him~

Vil

"Did you know you snore?"

He stares at you with his jaw open and his eyes wide. What...what do you mean he snores when he sleeps? Does he sleep with his mouth open? Does he look utterly ridiculous when he sleeps? All of these questions he bombards you with.

"Vil! Vil. I was kidding. I'm sorry. You sleep so quietly that I have to check if you're still alive sometimes. You're like a sleeping statue of perfection."

He was not amused. He almost had a heart attack and invested in the world's most expensive treatments.

Tackles you to the bed and ruffles up your hair, laughter ensuing at your silly little prank.

"Well, it's YOU who snores, potato. You're lucky I let you sleep here and not outside like a dog," He chuckles. He says this, yet you knew he loved you too much to go a single night without you by his side.

A link to my masterlist

[anadiasmount]

my angel - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: being due to a gala in less than an hour, jude finds out a tiny secret you had, faced with the options of not going or having to cope with an angel that stood beside him all nigh...

wc: 1.2k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa🗣️: small fic/ blurb because i could not focus on the other one i was writing... let me know if you'd like a part two bc I have a request that fits perfectly with this one :PPP like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

“baby? you in here? we have to leave soon,” you could hear jude approach the room as you continued to stare at yourself in the mirror. you’d gone out with the girls earlier that day, having breakfast and sharing laughs then went shopping to get new clothes for the year. along with some other products you needed, with that purchase, you had the chance to stop by a lingerie store. you rarely bought the flimsy and intimate fabrics, but when you did, it was always an experience. 

jude’s never seen you in lingerie, just your undergarments when you changed or took off your clothes. when you bought lingerie you kept it hidden and wore it for yourself to feel confident and sexy, you had many sets but the one you wore right now had by far become your favorite. it felt soft and silky, rich and smooth against your skin, not like other fabrics that irritated or felt tight on you. 

it hugged your figure perfectly, pushing your boobs and making them sit pretty in the lacy padded flowery bra, the thong accentuating your hips and waist and giving you the hourglass figure. the thigh lace garters were attached to your waist belt, a thin band going around you, and small suspenders attached to each side. in some way it had elongated your legs, giving you the appearance to look taller, it could also be the heels. 

you could hear jude approach the room way closer, giving you no time to react or change when he walked in. you bit the inside of your bottom lip, fingers pinching the nail beds in your other hand nervous and anxiously, shifting your weight from one foot to another as he stood by the doorway watching you. jude wore a suit, a fitted suit that embraced the built figure that he had grown over the few months, veins decorating his hands as they clenched tightly. 

he slowly approached, his shoes tapping against the tiled floor, fingers coming to his chin as his eyes roamed your almost exposed figure. he had stepped behind you, now looking at your front through the mirror, your eyes meeting full of daze and lust. jude being the public figure he was had been invited to attend a gala, taking you along as his plus one for the evening. the white gown you’d be wearing for the evening hung in the closet, but for now, you wanted to wear this underneath. 

“jesus y/n…” jude croaked, his eyes disconnecting from you as he fully took you in. you could feel his eyes leave traces behind, as they wandered from the lacy flowery bra to your thighs clenched together. “what do you think?” you say lowly afraid of your voice and becoming intimidated by his daze on you. 

“what do i think?” jude took a silencing pause, “you look absolutely beautiful y/n… like an angel, my angel…” jude replied stepping closer to you as he still towered over you, his fingers tracing from your shoulders down to your hips slowly, goosebumps trailing as he touched. his left hand wrapped your front around your waist, jude took your hair and placed it to the side gently, kissing your shoulder softly and peppering kisses to your neck, nibbling your sweet spot, all the places he had access to. 

his heart fluttered hearing you giggle loudly, your hand placed on top of his, “when did you get this? hm?” he asked glancing up to see you cheekily smiling. “today when i went out with the girls! i got it to match with my dress.” 

suddenly jude felt like not going, wanting to stay in to appreciate the goddess he had in front of him in all white. it came as a shock to him when he walked in, he’d never seen you in such intimate loungewear that he couldn't process what was happening. he fell in love all over again, wanting to caress the skin and body you had, appreciating what was his. for the night and forever. 

“did you get this set only? or other ones as well?”

“i got this one only because my old one was just not giving for me,” you scrunched your nose in disappointment, thinking of the old ivory set that was itchy and rough. “hold on, old one?” jude asked his voice spiking up as it came to a surprise. how many sets did you have? and why were they hidden for so long? he asked himself. 

“yes, i have quite a lot in various colors, themes, and designs…” you admit shyly face growing hot, flushing as you have exposed a small secret to your boyfriend. jude couldn't believe that he was hearing, struggling to comprehend the fact you had lingerie all this time, it wasn’t a bad thing, quite frankly the opposite. his innocent girl wasn't so shy. if this was just one of the sets, he could picture the other ones you had. “yeah, we’re not going tonight.”

“jude what? we have to,” you laugh as he slowly turns you around, now chest to chest. although it was impossible, you could feel his heart beat faster as he stared down at you. you looked angelic as he previously said, your eyes giving the impression of a cat eye by the false lashes, lips full and plump by your red lipstick, and cheek contoured by the blush to highlight the details of your face. 

beautiful was one of the words jude thought, others he couldn't fully say by being mesmerized by you. 

you let his hand wander down to your bum, feeling as he gave it a soft squeeze, fitting perfectly in his palm. “how do you expect me to go out knowing you’re wearing this underneath?” jude asked, kissing the bridge of your nose. “it’s going to drive me mad, angel. i could take you here right now and show you what i think of this,” he said deeply referring to the lingerie. 

“but you won’t because we have a place to be at in less than an hour,” you say teasingly, your thumb tracing his facial features, jude relaxing to your touch on him. “you’ll just have to let it drive you mad because we're not going to do a single thing until were back here,” you state firmly, making jude smirk. your hands traveled from his muscles down to his chest to fix the tie that was loose, jude watching your every move. 

“you are going have to deal with it, the things you wanna do, hear, all that for the whole night. picture it, me and you, me wearing this while you make me cum? or maybe i am? to give my golden boy his reward?” you tippy-toed whispering into his ear, kissing the lobe as he held your waist firmly, thumbs stroking your sides. 

“maybe you just won't be able to resist it, thinking how i am wearing this over my dress. maybe taking me into a restroom, our car, somewhere hidden or private to satisfy that need… either way, you’ll have to be patient because we’re waiting to come back home to do all that, right?” you continued watching as jude struggled to have coherent words. 

“yeah, we will see about that, angel…”

[seungkw1]

stress relief — yjh

♡ pairing: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader ♡ theme: fluff, smut (18+ mdni), established relationship ♡ wc: 1.7k ♡ warnings: oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), brief wrist pinning (f. receiving), slight degradation kink, petnames (m. & f. receiving - babe, baby, love, etc.) ♡ a/n: requested by my bestie <3

“Surprise!”

Jeonghan stops halfway through the doorway, hand lingering on the knob - his tired eyes trying to process what he is currently seeing. 

His schedule has been nonstop lately, and even though he does a good job at hiding it you’ve noticed how worn out he’s been every time he gets home, usually at a very late hour. 

So - you decide to try and cheer him up. 

You cooked up a big pot of jjajangmyeon, careful to follow the recipe exactly as you are not always the best cook - but you tasted it and it was surprisingly delicious. You turned off the overheads, instead opting for low-lit lamps and lighting various candles around the condo; you also put on some relaxing classical music, playing at a low volume. The vibe is relaxing, and a bit romantic - not either one of yours’ usual style, but you know it’s what he needs. 

Finally processing his surroundings, he looks at you - his big brown eyes turning even wider. You also happened to be wearing his favorite top of yours - the one that hugs you nicely, that he always compliments you on (and very much likes to take off of you). 

You take his bag from him and set it on the ground, helping him out of his coat. You turn him around and immediately grab him by the waist, pulling him in and planting a big kiss on his lips. You pull back, a puzzled expression still on his face. 

“What’s all this for?”, he asks, and then a concerned look colors his face. “Shit, did I forget an anniversary or something??”

You shake your head. “No dummy, it’s just for you! Figured you deserved a relaxing night in for once, you’ve been so stressed lately.”

You squeeze his torso and bury your head into him - he lets out a sigh and you feel his body relax into you. 

“Yeah, I definitely have been.” 

He kisses you on the forehead. “Thanks babe.”

You grab his hands and pull him toward the dinner table. “Come on, don’t want the food to get cold!”

—-

You jump under the covers, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan and squishing yourself against him as tight as possible. After dinner and then curling up on the couch together to watch his favorite movie, his tension seems greatly diminished. But, you’re not quite done with him yet. 

Your legs and arms now wrapped around him like a koala clinging to a tree, you start kissing him on the cheek over and over again. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he says as he rolls his eyes at you, but the smile on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying being showered with affection. 

“Just making sure you know how much I love you,” you state matter-of-factly, nuzzling your face into his neck and kissing him there too. 

He lets out an involuntary giggle. “Hey, that tickles!”

You softly turn his face toward yours, your nose pressed against his so you can stare eye-to-eye with him. 

“Really, though - I appreciate you so much. I don’t tell you nearly enough.”

His face begins to turn pink. “You’re being far too nice to me, I haven’t even been around all that much because of schedule and-“

You smush his lips with your hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Hush. Don’t be so hard on yourself, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I just-“

You kiss him to shut him up. It’s been a hot minute since you two have had any quality time together, nevermind anything alone and intimate. You savor the softness of his lips, lightly stroking his hair as you kiss him slowly, your nose pressed gently against his. You always love the way he holds you tightly when kissing you, squeezing your body into his as he rubs your back. Before long, though, your soft and sweet kisses turn into full-blown making out - both of you grasping at each other needily, neither one of you wanting to spend one millimeter apart. 

Your hand makes its way down his torso - resting on his chest, then his stomach, then to the band of his underwear. You pause, fiddling with the hem for a few moments (you can’t help but tease him a little bit). He breaks away from your lips, a slight smirk on his face he places his hand on yours, continuing it further downward onto the bulge forming underneath the fabric. He lets out a low hum as you begin to caress him, the semi-hard bulge almost instantly turning into a full-blown erection. 

“My baby’s been so tense lately,” you coo at him. You pull his underwear down, his cock springing up onto his stomach. Leaning into his ear, you whisper, “But luckily I know a great way to relieve stress.”

He moans as you begin to stroke his length. 

“Does that feel good, love?”

“Mmm yeah, feels amazing…” he mutters, his usual soft, mellow voice turned low and husky. 

His cock begins to glisten with precum as you continue stroking - you feel your pussy becoming wetter by the second as well, but your focus right now is on Jeonghan. 

You move down, positioning yourself between his legs, taking his cock in your hand as you place the tip in your mouth. You swirl your tongue over the head, causing him to groan as he lazily places his hand on top of your head. You take his length in your mouth, swallowing all of it. 

“Ohmygoddd,” he mumbles. “It’s been too long, baby.”

You slide his cock out of your mouth, gazing up at him as you lick up and down his entire length a few times, stopping only to take his balls in your mouth as you stroke him with one hand. You resume sucking his cock as the hand resting on your head begins to tighten its grip - that and the soft moans coming out of him tell you he’s close already. 

His tip hits you in your throat nicely, the choking sensation turning you on even more. You sneak your hand down to your cunt, moaning as you feel its wetness and gently begin touching your clit. Jeonghan’s moans have quickly become much louder - you know he’s about cum. A few more good pumps and you feel his cock begin to twitch, the thick ropes of his release hitting the back of your throat. He holds your head down as he finishes - you continue sucking on him to ensure his pleasure to the fullest. His body relaxes as he comes down; you slowly pull your mouth off his cock, making sure you get every single last drop of his cum. He lifts his head up slightly, looking at you through heavy eyelids - you swallow, then open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, to show him its vacancy. His head plops back down onto the pillow, a contented smile on his face - you haven’t seen him this relaxed in weeks. Your mission accomplished, you crawl back up the bed to cuddle up beside him again, but as you do he abruptly rolls you over, laying on top of you as he pins your arms down to the bed by your wrists. You must look surprised, because he grins at you - giving you that sly look of his that means he’s about to have a little fun with you. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see you touching yourself just now, love. What makes you think you get to do my job for me?”

Before you can protest he has one hand at your cunt, swirling your juices around delicately with one finger. You let out a soft whimper, then suddenly a bigger one as his fingertip ever so lightly brushes against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. 

“Look how wet you are - choking on my cock turn you on that much, did it?”

You nod, crying out as he slips his finger inside your pussy. He knows how to make you feel incredible with the lightest of touches - but you need more. You roll your hips, your clit softly bumping against his palm, but this just makes him withdraw his finger. You whine as your cunt is far too empty now;  he tuts at you as he cups your breast, his thumb grazing over your hardened nipple.

“So needy - isn’t that right?”

You nod at him again, but you whine as he pinches your nipple in response. 

“I’m gonna need more than that if you want me to make you cum, darling.” His lips hover over yours, his voice gravelly. 

“You know what I like. I want you to beg for it.”

“Please, Jeonghan.”

He drags his fingertips lightly over your skin, his hand heading back down where you want it.

“Please what, my love?”

“I wanna cum - please.”

You moan as the pads of his fingers begin to circle your clit. He kisses you, then scoots down - your cunt now right before his face. He kisses your clit, then inserts two of his fingers - you whimper as he begins to fuck you, his long fingers curling perfectly to hit your g-spot. He teases you, looking like he’s about to put his mouth on you but then just blowing onto your clit gently. 

“Jeonghan please.”

He smirks at you before finally licking your clit, a massive pang firing through your lower abdomen. He swirls his tongue around before taking it in his mouth, sucking intensely. You cry out, feeling your orgasm approaching already. Jeonghan definitely notices; normally, he’d continue teasing you here, taking you nearly to the edge before pausing again and again - but this time he gives in, continuing to fuck you as his mouth refuses to leave your cunt. His free hand presses down on your stomach, and you feel your body tense up, your legs starting to quiver. Before you can even say a word, you’re cumming - your body shaking as shockwaves pulsate throughout, the sensation overwhelming. 

As you come down, you realize how relaxed you are now too, more than you’ve felt in weeks. Seeing Jeonghan so stressed lately must have been subconsciously stressing you out as well. You giggle as he kisses your pussy a few more times before crawling back up to your side, immediately wrapping his arms around you as he draws you into his warm body. 

“Thank you,” he says sleepily. “I really needed that.”

“I did too,” you reply, your head tucked into his neck. 

You lay there in silence, your breathing synchronized, Jeonghan caressing your back slowly, and slower still as you both drift off to sleep - blissful, relieved, and most importantly: together. 

[end]

[babybluebex]

looking | joseph quinn x reader

summary: joe catches you looking and rewards (punishes?) you for your efforts pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: smut (MINORS DNI), squirting, oral (m! and f!receiving), mostly dom!joe but surprise sub!joe at the end, praise kink, no condom, creampie, cockwarming author's note: yes i have a lecture this morning. yes i am writing this at work. no i will not apologize. enjoy <3 // follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new story! (also big ole thanks to @freckledjoes for making this gif for me!! thanks a bunch!)

You heard his feet on the landing of the stairs, and then gentle padding as his bare feet sounded on the carpeted hallway as he made his way to the bedroom. These nights were your favorite— Joseph had made you dinner, cheesy pasta with garlic bread, then you had watched an episode of Succession before getting ready for bed. You could tell that Joe was in a sort of mood that night, the kind of mood where he lit a candle at dinner and kissed you and put on Al Green on his record player. He had asked if you wanted to join him in the shower, but you had declined; you had work in the morning, and a randy shower didn't exactly entail an early sleep.

But then, he rounded the corner and darkened the doorway, and you gulped. He looked good; wet curls on his forehead, singlet covering his beefy build, and those underwear, clinging to every curve just right. And he didn't even seem like he knew what he was doing. Joe rubbed his hair dry on his towel as he came into the bedroom, and he went to his dresser, rooting through the top drawer for some pajama bottoms. The silence was deafening, and damning, because Joe turned to you with an amused look on his face.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked. "Cat got your tongue?" He added a dramatic pout to his plush lips, and, fuck, you just had to kiss him.

"You just look really good," you said softly. "Can't I just look at you?"

"Oh, you want to look?" Joe asked teasingly. Oh. So he was in that sort of mood. "I thought it was rude to stare."

"I'm not staring," you told him. "I'm... Appreciating. Admiring."

"Admiring, eh?" Joe laughed. "What exactly are you admiring?"

"Well..." you started, holding out your hand and tracing the shape of his body in the air. He was certified grade A beef that day, finally having regained the weight he had lost to play Eddie, and you loved his plush hips and thick thighs. "And..." You made a cupping motion with your hand, and Joe let out a sputtered laugh.

"So you're staring at my dick," Joe said, shaking his head mirthfully. "I knew I was nothing but a piece of meat to you."

"No!" you exclaimed. Even though you knew he was joking, you didn't want him to think you were doing that for even a second. "I'm just... You just... Y'know? Just admiring every part of you."

"You're drooling," Joe cajoled. He hung his towel on the back of the door and made his way to the bed, and you watched as he grew closer, finally until he was lingering right next to you, his cloth-covered dick inches from your face. God, he smelled so good, you just wanted to take him then and there.

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through your eyelashes to see his reaction, and you were overjoyed to see him slowly close his eyes and take a deep breath. "You gonna suck it or what?" he asked in a low voice, and the hot pressure of need slammed inside you belly. You loved when he got like this.

You readjusted yourself in bed, sitting on your knees to reach him properly, and you tugged him forward by his hips to get him closer. Carefully, you pulled down those black briefs, and his half-hard cock spilled forward. He was thick and heavy, beautiful, and you chuckled lightly at the sight before you. "You trimmed," you giggled, and Joe peeked his eyes open.

"Is that a crime?" he asked, and you slid your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your nails up.

"No," you said. "I just like your bush."

Joe shrugged. "I'll grow it back out," he said. His hand smoothed your hair back, gathering it all up in a loose grip before he flattened his palm against the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You put an end to your games then, taking the head of his uncut cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, just enough to give him a little bit of pressure. Joe made a quiet noise, a sort of hum of appreciation, and you took him further into your mouth. He tasted good, musky but clean, and you moaned around him as your tongue lavished the thick vein that ran along the bottom of his cock.

"That's it," Joe whispered. "What a good girl... You love sucking my cock, don't you?"

You fluttered your eyelashes at him as an answer and took him deeper, then pulled back and suckled at his head for a moment, just to get a reaction out of him. His hand gripped your hair as he moaned, and he gritted his teeth. "Fuck," he whispered. "I knew you liked what you saw."

You pulled off of him with a gasping breath, letting your hand stroke him from balls to tip. "Did you do it on purpose?" you asked.

"Do what?"

"Dress like this," you asked. "Look so goddamn delicious. You know I can hardly resist you."

"That was the plan," Joe admitted. His stomach flexed when you reached up to cup his balls, and you leaned back in, sucking him down again. You didn't usually like giving blowjobs— you hardly ever went down on past boyfriends— but there was something special about Joe that made you want to swallow down his cock every single day, no matter what. "God, you look so hot like this, darling. Love watching you like this."

You moaned softly, then broke away from him, panting to try to regain the breath that sucking him off has made you lose. Joe didn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you, holding your face as his tongue swirled in your mouth, tasting himself off of you. You scrambled backwards to lay on your back, and you tugged Joe in by his shirt, urging him to lay on top of you. He did exactly as you expected, following you and nudging your legs open as he messily kissed you, and he broke the kiss to look down at you. Panties and a t-shirt (his t-shirt), nothing else.

"Fuck," Joe whispered, and he chuckled. His eyes were stuck on your covered pussy, and he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue when he spotted the damp patch on your panties. "Is this all for me?"

"Yeah," you told him. "F'course it is."

"Jesus, I'm a spoiled man," Joe whispered, kissing you deeply again. His hands scrambled to tug down your panties and expose you to him, and his greedy eyes watched as you opened your legs for him, showing him your wet pussy. Your blood was thrumming in every vein with desire, you needed him so badly, and he flicked his eyes up to yours, those lips of his falling open gently. He kissed you once more, then leaned down to kiss your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before trailing his kisses downwards. Ever downwards he ventured, until his warm breath was fanning across your cunt, and he did not waste any time before he licked at you.

The stubble on his chin and cheeks roughed up your thighs as he ate you out like he had never learned how to do anything else. He sucked at your quivering clit and made you cry out in pleasure, his tongue danced on your hole, he even added his fingers to help open you up. By the time the knot in your belly was straining, he was sucking lewdly and shaking his head, making sure that you felt every inch of his fingers and tongue on you. It was so good, it felt so fucking amazing, and you let the knot snap and come undone. You grabbed hard at Joe's hair and almost cried as you came on his fingers; it just felt so fucking good.

"Jesus!" Joe laughed, and you panted as you looked down at him. Something wet was in his beard, and you laughed when you realized that it wasn't just your regular juices. "Good fucking girl, do that again, baby."

"I-I didn't even know I could do that," you laughed breathlessly, letting your head fall back. Joe wasted no time in pushing his fingers back into you, thrusting hard into you and making your toes curl with the sensitivity, and you yelped when the sudden knot burst again, and you were able to watch this time as you squirted quickly on Joe's face. He seemed to love it, smiling up at you and panting, and he pulled out his soaked fingers. He looked at them in awe, wet and glistening, before he touched them to his lips, licking them clean.

You leaned up and stripped off your shirt, and you reached out for him, pulling his hips between your legs again as you shoved his singlet over his head. You discarded it across the room before you kissed him again, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he didn't wait a single second before he grasped his cock and pushed inside you. You were so fucking sensitive from cumming so hard, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders as he instantly started up a pace. He was quick, thrusting messily into you and holding down your hips to keep you where he wanted you, and you hid yourself in his neck. Jesus, he was insatiable tonight; he had made you fucking squirt, and now he was fucking you so hard that you were worried you two might break the bed.

"Baby," you whispered in his ear. "Easy, honey, we have all night."

"I almost came when you squirted," Joe told you. "Fuck me, I'm so close already. Let me cum, and then we can go slower and nicer, but, right now, I need to— Fuck!"

His cock throbbed inside you as he fucked you, and you knew that he was right. He was dangerously close to his release, and you to yours, and you could have sworn that you heard him whimper when you clenched down on him, tightening around his cock.

"Please, baby," Joe whispered. "Let me cum inside you, please, fuck, I need it."

"Fuck, yeah," you breathed. "Cum inside me, please."

Joe's nails dug into the flesh of your hip, and you gasped as Joe moaned deeply, and he filled you. You could feel it inside you, so much thick cum— your poor boy really needed to cum. He moaned in your ear and panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath, and you pulled yourself from his neck to smile hazily up at him. "Was it good?" Joe asked, and you chuckled, brushing back his curls.

"Yes, my love," you told him. "So good. I didn't know I could squirt, that was interesting."

"A surprise, for sure," Joe laughed. "But it was hot. Can you do it again?"

"I don't know how I did it the first time," you chuckled. "I don't know if I can do it again."

Joe huffed out a laugh, and he leaned up on his elbows, rocking his hips into you again. Your nerves were so scorched and sensitive that you instantly let out a yelp, and Joe said, "Well, let's see."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 12

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

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

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

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

You open the cupboard and rummage through the contents. Rice crackers, no. Protein powder, please. You scoff and find what looks to be chocolate but as you rip the wrapper open and bite into it, the bitterness nearly gags you. You rush to the sink and spit it out. 

“Glad to see you making yourself at home,” Steve muses from the doorway. 

You look to him and fold the wrapper back around the bar. You scowl and go to put it back. You shake your head. 

“I’m starving,” you say. “So hungry it hurts.” 

You rub your stomach as a wave of dizziness bobbles your head. Between waves of nausea and fatigue, the ravenous need consumes you. You search around, forgetting him for the pang in your stomach. You pull open the fridge and pull out the yogurt. You peel the lid off and grab the sugar dish and pour it into the container. 

“Woah, woah, that’s not good for the baby,” Steve rushes forward. 

“Don’t,” you warn as you slide open drawers in search of a spoon, “do you have pickles?” 

“Pickles? With yogurt?” 

“I’m fucking hungry!” You growl, a surge of rage searing through your veins as you grab a spoon. “If I have to be here, let me eat, at least.” 

“I don’t mind you eating, but you gotta be careful--” 

“Pickles,” you remind him. 

“Don’t got any, sorry. But I can go grab some, I guess. If you make a list--” 

He gets closer and you recoil. You wave your hand at him and plug your nose, “don’t come any closer.” 

“Excuse me?” He grimaces. 

“Your cologne or something. It’s setting me--” 

You spin and hold the spoon behind you as you puke into the sink. Your body lurches with each violent wretch. The bile does little to deter your appetite. You simply rinse out your mouth and the sink and go back to the hunt for satiation. 

“They said the symptoms will probably be worse than usual,” he leans on the counter and watches you. “Nausea, hunger, hormones...” 

“Goddamn? Ice cream? Do you have ice cream?” You snarl down at the freezer drawer. 

“I’m not much of a sweets guy.” 

“No pickles, no ice cream. Baking chocolate and sour yogurt.” You rant. 

“I told you, I’ll go get you some stuff-” 

“Then go.” You snap. 

“Hey, watch it.” 

“Or what?” You face him defiantly. “I’m carrying your baby, Steve Rogers, so you can’t do shit.” 

“I can do whatever needs to be done. You might require bedrest.” 

“Bedrest? I’m fine.” You insist and turn your back to him. 

“You’re tearing apart my kitchen and slathering like a dog,” he reproaches. 

“Slathering like a dog? Tell me again about how in love you are.” You snip, “Jeez.” 

“I didn’t mean—honey, sweetheart, I’m just trying to help you settle. We both gotta learn to live with each other. We only got seven months or so to do so.” He crosses his arms as you pull out the loaf of bread and load the toaster. 

“Hmm, you know what will help me settle in? Peanut butter and jelly. Oh and cream cheese. Mmph, yes,” you march around the kitchen and grab the butter. “Also, oreos--bagels!” 

“Okay, I’ll head out,” he sniffs and shifts flat on his feet. 

“Great,” you go back to the toaster as the scent of the browning bread drives you wild. 

He approaches you from behind and you do your best to ignore him. You bounce on your heels impatiently and tap your fingers. You stiffen as he rests his hands on your hips. You have nowhere to go. 

“A kiss before I go?” He asks. 

You hold back a heave, “I just puked.” 

“I don’t care,” he squeezes, “please. It’s been a while since that night. I’m a bit... neglected.” 

You lock your jaw and stare at the tiled wall. You force the tension out and steel yourself. You turn to him and your insides coil uncomfortably. 

“Fine,” you croak. 

He leans in and presses his lips to yours. You hold back an eruption of disgust. Objectively, he’s handsome. He is the great golden Captain America but you’ve seen the real him. You’ve seen his callousness, his cruelty. You have witnessed his delusion. You wonder if the serum did that too. 

The toast pops and you tear away just as his tongue pokes out. You grab the butter knife and take the lid off the container. You slide out a hot slice and spread the dairy across it. He sighs and looms close. 

“Anything else I can get?” He asks. 

“Just food. Lots of food,” you say as you shove a piece of toast in your mouth. “Mmm, ohmagrddddd.” 

“Alright, I’ll be back. Call me if you need anything.” 

“Sure,” you munch loudly.

Maybe that will keep him away. If you can make yourself as gross as possible, you won’t have to worry about him begging for kisses and touches. Right now, you don’t want anyone near you. 

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey babes, love your work so much🩷

Could you possibly write some body worship and appreciation on daryl (including giving him head)? Like really sweet and caring but also hot as fuck? Lord knows he dederves/needs to hear it😩 Also another idea that popped into my head, could be in this or another fic, but him pulling your hair while fucking you from the behind, not like super rough or anything just kinda affectionate.

Pardon my rambling and thank you for always feeding my inner whore!💖

IT'S JUST A BODY OF YEARS

"That I leave all alone"

THE FUNTIME PARTS: Daryl x Fem!Reader, big boy is insecure, body worship, blowjobs, tbh daryl is a bit subby in this, face-fucking, gentle sex with some gentle hair pulling, creampies and a breeding kink of course

this request is another really old one that I only just recently got an idea for because for some reason I've been absolutely feining to just suck daryls dick. like I want his man peenar in my mouth like candy.

i feel like he gets overly insecure pretty often, some of it dates back to his childhood because I feel like there were definitely times where daryls father shamed him for eating or being "too big" at a young age, so there's always been some self-hatred that he just needs to have kissed and sucked away

I did take a little mental health break and i feel a bit better, I ended up having to go through my drafts and inbox to clear out mainly the super old requests that I just had no interest in, I really really wanna open my reqs back up for new and fresh ideas but first I have to finish the ones I already have

if this flops im deleting my blog and tumblr

Daryl Dixon wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t need to be in order for you to understand him.

His body spoke for him, from shy hands resting on your hips to soft kisses trailing up your neck, Daryl never needed to voice how he felt about you, and he knew how you felt about him, but sometimes he couldn’t figure out why.

Even now, as he stands in front of the mirror with his shirt off nitpicking at each imperfection littering his skin, he still can’t figure out why.

He was nothing but a low-class hotheaded redneck from deep in the south. You were so far out of his league that it was almost unbelievable that you'd ever want someone like him. Someone as breathtakingly gorgeous and downright stunning as you stuck with someone as dirty and disgusting as him.

The skin of his body was so rough and utterly ruined, cringing at the feeling of raised scars on his chest under the tips of his blistered fingers. How could you ever feel an attraction to someone like him?

He folded his arms across his chest, growling softly as he frustratedly blinked back angry tears as he tore his eyes away from the mirror, straight up offended by the state of his own body.

You approached him from where you were watching sadly in the doorway, sliding gentle hands around his waist and feeling him jerk away from the sudden contact in his vulnerable state. He never wanted you to see him cry. Hell, at this point he didn't want you to see him at all.

“Dun' look at me” He mumbled, arms tightening around himself as a wave of self-hate washed over him once more, your touch burning against his skin.

“But I love looking at you,” You whispered softly, hands trailing up his sides and coming to a rest on one of his biceps. “I love all of you”

Daryl shook his head, hiding his face behind his hair as hot tears welled up in his eyes again. “How? Why?” He had so many questions, but none of them seemed mattered when your hands ran up his arms and gently tried to pry them from his chest.

He balled up his fists by his sides, but you stepped in front of him and brought them into your own. “Well to start, I love your hands. You just don’t know how good the hands of a hard-working man feels” You said as you kissed the palm of his hands, nuzzling your cheek against them in a cat-like manner. "So rough and ragged, but so gentle and kind"

Daryl flushed a little as your face made contact with his palm, almost reflexively hold your cheek as you held it against your skin, kissing a soft trail against his palm, moving to his wrist and down the length of his arm.

Daryl did take a lot of pride in his arms, and you knew that better than anyone, dragging your fingers along his forearm where you could feel the veins protruding, bringing the digits up to his large bicep. “I love your muscles, my big strong man who can carry me anywhere I want with your drool-worthy arms"

At that, a small smile cracked on his face, but it disappeared once your fingers made their way up and across his chest, easily becoming insecure all over again.

He brought a hand down to your waist to stop you, squeezing it as you moved your hand to his face, softly cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I call you 'handsome' as a nickname for a reason, 'cause it’s true” You whispered, staring into his sad eyes. You pressed your lips against his, and then to the side, down his neck. "You're gorgeous to me, Daryl"

You mumbled the words against his skin as you kissed and sucked your way down his neck, taking your time as you went across his collarbone, down to his rounded pecs, all the way across his chest, softly trailing over bumpy scars on his oh-so-nicely sculpted abs, slowly lowering yourself down onto your knees as you worshipped your absolute hunk of man.

"I love your whole body. So built and sturdy, big and thick," You said in a sultry tone as you glanced up at him, running a hand over his bulge and cupping it through the fabric, watching the way his face flushed a deep red all the way down to his chest. "Just so perfect"

Daryl's fingers tangled gently in your hair, almost nervous as you pressed open-mouth kisses against his now-straining cock, sucking on the growing wet patch where his tip was. A deep groan pulled itself from his throat, your lips moving against his flesh as you moved to pull his boxers down with your teeth, yanking them the rest of the way down until he was in nothing but his bare skin, putting all of him on display just for you.

You kissed his defined hipbones, wrapping your hands around thick thighs as you trailed along his v-line, peppering feather-light kisses around his pelvis and reaching the base of his cock, his pubic hairs bushy yet somewhat trimmed.

"M'not the same from when we first met" Daryl whispered, his blunt nails scratching at your scalp as you glanced up at him, shrugging a shoulder as you teased his side with your fingers. "It's called growing up, Dar. To be fair, you were quite a chubby cutie back then"

He scoffed slightly at that. "Ain't no different now, 'always been on the bigger side"

"And I love that. Makes you so warm and loveable" You smiled softly as you placed a wet kiss against his tip, running your tongue down the underside to the base, taking one of his balls into your mouth before licking your way back up to the tip, listening to the shaky moan that left his lips as his fingers curled in your hair.

You wasted no time sliding the head of his cock into your mouth, humming around him in your own form of satisfaction as you pulled back all the way to the tip, going back down all the way to the base, relaxing your throat as you nuzzled your nose in the plush of his pubes, happily inhaling his natural scent as he groaned above you, pressing his hips forward as his cock rested snuggly in your throat.

He held you steady by your hair, pulling himself back and almost completely out before sliding right back in, repeating the action as goosebumps exploded across his skin, breathing breathlessly as he practically started to hump your face.

Tiny moans pulled themselves from your chest, flickering your eyes upwards to watch the way Daryl tossed his head back and dropped it back down, his pupils blown wide and eyes lidded, cheeks flushed a cherry red as your throat squeezed around his cock, Daryl's husky breaths and grunts filling the air as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his pelvis right up against your nose.

You pulled your head back all the way until he slipped out your mouth with a wet pop, coated in slick saliva as you suckled and kissed along the underside of his length, fingers stroking through your hair as you flickered your gaze up to meet his, smearing spit along the skin of your cheek as you basically nuzzled up against his cock.

"Wha'cha doin' down there doll?" Daryl asked in his southern drawl, raspier now from your previous antics.

He brought his hand down to the base of your neck, bringing his thumb to your chin and tilting your head upwards, watching as you innocently bat your lashes kissing against his v-line. "Just loving on my man, you're so hot"

"Real funny” Daryl said from above you, his hand cupping your face as you rubbed yourself up against him in a cat-like manner.

You smiled at him, kissing along his prominent hip bones and running your lips over any scars or imperfections. “It’s true, I’d eat you alive if you let me”

At that he scoffed, “Think m’gon pass” dropping his hand from your cheek down to your waist as you gradually kissed your way back up his body, lips fluttering against the skin of his chest as you felt the bumpy and slightly rough scars decorating his torso, running your hands up his firm pecs to wrap around his neck as your lips found their way to his face, peppering his scratchy beard in kisses.

“I love you, Daryl. I want you to see the man that I see,” You whispered against the corner of his mouth, brushing a stray hair out his face as you kissed him sorrowfully. “Not the one you see in the mirror”

His grip on you tightened, and you giggled softly when he twitched against your leg, eyes low as they flickered between you and your lips. When he kissed you. it was hungry, desperate and gentle all in one, a hand settling itself back at the base of your neck.

It wasn’t long before the air in the room started to get heated, shortly realizing that Daryl was completely nude and that you were still completely dressed, pulling away from him in order to tear your shirt off, hands helping to yank down your pants along with your underwear in a quick, fluid motion, calloused hands running themselves over your tits and squeezing, feeling their way down the rest of your bare body.

“Yer fuckin’ perfect” He mumbled out as he pulled you against him, dipping his head down in order to bite at your flesh, small groans rumbling softly through him as he groped at your waist.

You spun around him and twisted his body in order to be pinned between him and the vanity, heat pooling in your stomach as he practically towered over you. “That's what I'm trying to get you to understand”

“Oh, I understand alrigh’,” Daryl spoke in a low tone, bringing his attention back down to your neck and a soft pair of tits. “Jus’ shaped like a goddamn dream”

"Don't be so kind Sir Scupluted," You exhaled with a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around the man's neck as he pressed his skin against yours, dragging a rough hand down the pane of your back and helping himself to a handful of your round butt, scoffing out a small chuckle as your words finally processed in his mind.

"Sir Scupluted?" He repeated outloud as his breath fanned over your ear, dragging his scratchy yet soft beard along the skin of your neck.

You giggled as the fine gray hairs tickled at your flesh, Daryl's hands dipping down to grope and squeeze your hips, thumbs brushing along the skin of your inner thighs. "Have you seen yourself lately?'

Daryl grunted a little when you spun around in his grasp, forcing him to reposition his hands where they now rested on your waist, his front to your back as you smiled at him through the mirror, bringing a hand up to stroke his face as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, calloused palms feeling their way around your flesh lovingly as he pressed himself against you, almost trying to hide himself behind you.

It made your heart squeeze painfully, placing your other hand on top of his and looping your fingers together, brushing curls out his face as you turned to look at him, whispering out a small "Daryl," in order to full grasp his attention, a sad frown taking over your face as his striking eyes met yours, cupping his cheek. "You are the most gorgeous boy I've ever had the honor to lay hands on. You're the sweetest thing in this whole world and there isn't a thing I'd ever want to change about you. Not your face, not your voice, not your body, not anything."

He shook his head slightly in your grip, mumbling into the crook of your neck, "Ya dun' mean-" but getting quickly cut off by you pressing a finger to his lips, bumping your forehead against his. "I do mean it. You're absolutely perfect, Daryl, that won't ever change"

You spoke the words against his lips softly, humming and cupping his face as he closed the gap between you two, kissing you desperately and needily as the love in your words rang out in his head, feeling the way his heart was totally pounding in his chest and his cock was throbbing between your bodies, hands curling into your flesh.

Daryl's lips trailed down the underside of your jaw, hungrily kissing and sucking on your skin going down your neck, biting his way to your shoulders as a big palm came up to fondle one of your tits, the other snaking down to your hip as you pushed back against him, resting your hands on the dresser as you teasingly eyed him through the mirror, moaning slightly when he started to rut himself between your slick folds.

A wave of excitement pulsed through you when a large hand gripped your shoulder right near the base of your neck, Daryl pushing the head of his cock into the hot velvetiness of your cunt, a deep groan leaving his chest as he sank all the way in, nudging his pelvis up against you.

"Love my sweet boy, always making me feel so good" You almost whined the words as you clenched around him, nibbling on your bottom lip as the hand on your shoulder moved up to your hair, fingers combing and gathering the loose strands, holding them in a hand-held ponytail, nails scratching bluntly at your scalp.

Daryl was one of the only men in your life who could really make you finish, just the stretch of his cock was enough to get your eyes rolling, setting a rhythmical pace as he started to thrust his hips, pulling himself all the way back before easily slipping back in, burying his dick in the squishiest parts of you.

He admired your face as it twisted in pleasure, watching you through the mirror as you moaned with every thrust, eyes closed in bliss. He took the chance then to admire your whole body, from your round hips striped with stretch marks, all the way up the deep arch in your back to the tops of your shoulders, teeth marks and hickies already starting to bruise purple.

It didn't stop him from dipping his head down and taking the skin into his mouth again, wanting nothing more than to make it known to the whole world that you belonged to him, and that he so rightfully belonged to you.

You turned your head slightly to the side, Daryl meeting you the rest of the way and locking his lips with yours, swallowing all your tiny sounds while letting out soft groans himself, eagerly lifting one of your legs up to get that much deeper, the feeling that took over when hearing you choke and stutter over the new angle was indescribable, solely focused on making his pretty girl cum.

Which wouldn't take much longer at all, whimpers filling the room as you tensed up in his hold, the hand that was once in your hair now protectively wrapped across your chest, helping to support your body on one leg as your fingers curled into the wood below, mouth going slightly agape as your orgasm crashed into you, Daryl fucking you through it until you were trembling and twitching, slowing his movements to chase after his own release, rocking his hips against you gently as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, flushing more when fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape, feeling your other hand squeeze his arm. "Fill me up Dar, please"

"Give ya' lots of lil' babies huh?" He mumbled against your skin, increasing the pace of his strokes as he was so close, feeling the way his orgasm tightened his balls and made his whole body hot and tingly.

You pulled him flush to your lips once more, tongues pressing and swirling around one another, tasting every little corner of his mouth happily. "Lots of them. I wanna have all your gorgeous babies"

With that, it wasn't long before Daryl's hips started to falter, a husky moan pulling itself from his chest as his cock pulsated, pumping his load into the softness of your cunt, dropping your leg back down on the ground when he pulled out with a lewd pop, instantly peppering you in kisses.

You spun back around in his arms, tossing your own around his neck and glancing at the damage you had done to his body, bites, and marks littering him from head to toe. "I love you sweetheart, I love you so much"

Daryl easily lifted you up off the ground, carrying you over to bed where he dropped down with you clinging to him, pulling the covers over both your nude bodies and squeezing you tight, so tight that it sent waves of dopamine rushing through you, heart pounding as you snuggled against your man's chest, his fingers in your hair and gently tracing shapes on your back, lips pressed to your forehead.

"Love ya' too doll, dun' know how I got so lucky" He whispered the words, and you could feel the rumble of them vibrate up close and personal, kissing right between his pecs. "Anyone would be lucky to have a man as faultless as you, but not anyone else can have my beautiful boy"

Hey everyone look!! Im about to drop another fic and then not drop for another three months!!!!!

WHOS EXCITED FOR THAAAT🤗🔥🔥

But anyway, I had plans to actually start scheduling posts but I don’t write that fast to do that so i’m just gonna throw this into the crowd and vanish again 🙏🏾‼️

also i have something against all of you who still use my tag but WHATEVERS. 🙄 A sexy bitch like me improvises (i asked daddy krys for help)

[sansaorgana]

I just need to know how buck would react to his wife Breastfeeding! I feel like he is definitely a tits kind of man

oh, darling, let's be real – he's a ✨personality ✨ kind of man 🤭😂 but yeah, I agree 👀 also, I love him being a softie so much 😌 I didn't put any warnings but I assume you know already what to expect from this fic lol 🍼

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Usually, it was Buck who would leave the bed in the middle of the night to bring the crying baby to you but today he seemed to be so deep in his sleep that no amount of your daughter’s screaming was waking him up. You sighed and caressed his hair softly without wanting to wake him up – he deserved his rest as well, after all, and it had been a long and tiring week for him at work.

You got out of the bed and put a robe loosely upon your nightgown as you slid your feet inside a pair of slippers waiting for you on the carpet. Softly and quietly you left the bedroom and hurried to the nursery where your little girl was crying her lungs out.

“Hey, shh, shh,” you cooed to her while picking her up after turning a small lamp on. It was not very bright and perfect for the nighttime when little Dolores was getting hungry.

You sat with her on the rocking chair by the window and kept shushing her softly, trying to unbutton your nightgown clumsily with your free hand while keeping her steady with your other arm.

“Don’t cry, little one, don’t wake daddy up, he needs his rest,” you smiled at her and adjusted her in your arms so she could finally get fed as you watched her tiny features in awe. You were still quite sleepy but you would never change anything. Sleep was not as important as spending time with your baby.

Lost in thoughts and Dolly’s sweet little face, you didn’t notice Buck leaning on the doorway and watching you with the same amount of love as you were staring at your babygirl with.

When you looked up for a second, you got startled at the sight of him and then you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he mumbled out. “I woke up and you weren’t there but there was a light coming from the hall so I knew where you went,” he explained with a soft smile.

“You should have stayed in bed, love,” you whispered to him.

“And miss this? No way,” your husband approached you and crouched down next to you so he could see Dolly’s face, too. She opened her eyes and looked at him as she kicked her little feet. Buck grabbed them and caressed them gently. “Isn’t she perfect?” He looked up at you and gasped.

“Yes, she is,” you nodded but you furrowed your brow at his gasp. “What is it?”

“You’re a goddess, really,” he admitted and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Oh, Gale, please,” you dismissed that praise shyly.

“I mean it,” Buck whispered and gently let go of Dolly’s feet to caress your cheek with his finger. “After everything I’ve been through, all that death and darkness… You’re a beacon of light, a life-giver, a mother,” he explained. “And I will forever worship you for that.”

You cracked a smile at his words and fought the tears forming in your eyes.

“I wish you haven’t gone through any of that,” you confessed, nearly inaudibly.

“But I have and maybe thanks to that I can appreciate what I have even more,” Buck nodded.

“You’ve always been a good man,” you reminded him and it was true. Your husband had always been kind and generous and a gentleman. You had never complained about anything that actually mattered. He didn’t deserve any of the suffering he had been through and he certainly hadn’t needed it to help him shape his character because he had simply always been a good man.

Even in that dim light you could see your husband’s cheeks turning slightly pink. He was adorable, like a little boy. You wished you could hold him close and make all his pain go away, all the awful memories, all the nightmares, all the triggers. You just wanted him to relax, you wanted to give him peace.

Little Dolly squealed a bit and you looked down to see her mouth curling up in a small smile as droplets of milk were dripping down her chin. You chuckled at that and lifted her up as Buck took a tissue from the changing table to wipe her face gently.

“I’ll take her,” he offered and you let him take the baby. Buck started to carry her around while patting her back delicately and you wiped the milk leaking out of your breast swiftly before buttoning the nightgown up.

You kept sitting in the rocking chair and watching your lovely husband walking around the small nursery that he had prepared by himself before Dolly’s arrival to this world. And now was humming a lullaby to his little girl and everything seemed to be so perfect and cosy. You couldn’t be happier than that, you thought.

When Dolly could be placed back in her crib, Buck made sure to watch over her until she fell asleep. He told you to go back to the bedroom and even though you felt guilty that once again he was the one to stay up in the nursery, you were grateful for him telling you to rest instead.

You were still weak after the childbirth and all the pregnancy and he was just one of those husbands who actually appreciated their wives for carrying their children for them. He was tired after this previous week, too, but he knew his exhaustion was no match compared to yours.

So, you went back to the bedroom and you sat up with the pillows behind your back because you wanted to wait for him. You weren’t that sleepy anymore but you were grateful for the possibility of going back to bed – especially your spine was very happy about it.

Buck came back not so long after you since it never took Dolly long to fall asleep in the middle of the night after being fed. You hoped it would stay this way. In general, so far she had been a quite unproblematic child of a gentle nature and you suspected it was a trait she had after her father.

Buck went under the cover and laid down next to you, looking up at you with his pretty puppy eyes as he leaned in to kiss your tummy.

“You sleepy, darling? Want me to turn the light off?” You asked him and caressed his hair.

“It’s fine. I want to stay up and keep looking at you for a while,” he admitted and you giggled.

“You’re mad,” you pointed out playfully.

“Sure I am. Mad about you,” Buck answered and you rolled your eyes as you kept caressing his hair and face – gently, with your fingertips, tracing the outlines of the thin scars scattered all over his face.

“I love you,” you whispered with all seriousness.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back with a soft smile.

There were many other things that had been told between you two with those three words but you didn’t have to actually list them all out loud. Your “I love you” was enough to thank him for his sacrifice, for surviving the war and coming back to you. It was enough to let him know you would take it all away from him if it was possible. And his “I love you, too” was enough for you to know that he knew what you meant and he thanked you for understanding and for waiting for him, for always treating him so kind and soft – for giving him a baby, too.

Buck moved closer to you and buried his face in your nightgown, breathing in your scent. You kept playing with his hair and sighed softly when he looked up with a smile.

“It smells so sweet,” he whispered and you furrowed your brow because you hadn’t used any perfume before going to bed. “The milk, I assume,” he added and unbuttoned two of the small buttons of your nightgown to bury his face deeper into your chest and take a deep breath in. “Yeah, it’s the milk,” he nodded.

“It tastes sweet, too,” you told him with a smirk and Buck tilted his head as he kept looking up at your face.

“How do you know?” He chuckled.

“Sometimes, when it leaks out on my fingers, I am too lazy to wipe it off and I just lick it off of my fingers,” you confessed. “Well, I was pretty curious about it, too,” you told him, hoping he wouldn’t judge you.

But Buck would never judge you.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked down between your breasts as if he was contemplating on something. Finally, he looked up again and his cheeks were crimson red.

“Can I… Can I taste it, too?” He asked.

You were taken aback by this question. Not that you found it obscene or disgusting but you definitely did not expect your husband to request such a thing.

“Yes, my love, of course,” you smiled at him with a nod and began to work on your buttons. You would never deny him anything.

“Only if… If it’s still gonna be enough for Dolly in the morning,” Buck interrupted you by placing his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart, she’s gonna have enough,” you assured him with a chuckle and he nodded.

Buck watched in awe when you kept unbuttoning your nightgown – a sight he had seen many times now but this time it was different. It was only for him and you were doing it slowly, which was done on purpose to give him a little show. It felt intimate on a level he had never been with you before although he had never thought it possible.

He nearly moaned at the sight of your swollen breasts jumping out of your nightgown. They had gotten so big due to your pregnancy and he was obsessed with them even more than usual now. A simple thought that they were swollen with milk for his baby was enough to make him have impure thoughts sometimes. He had always worshipped you and the ground you walked on but you becoming a mother of his child only intensified the feeling – he couldn’t believe his happiness, really. The woman he loved so much was loving him back and she wanted to give him a family even though she had to sacrifice so much and her body was a real miracle for actually being able to grow a child and give birth… For Buck you truly were a goddess and he couldn’t care less if it was a blasphemy or not.

Carefully, he touched your breasts and you hissed quietly because they were so sore and sensitive. But Buck knew that already so he was trying to be as gentle as possible when he softly massaged them and watched the milk leak out. He allowed it to flow for some time and only when your breasts were covered in white streamlets, he licked them up while peppering your skin with kisses.

“So sweet,” he said and looked up as you noticed his pupils darkening. You knew that look very well.

“Baby, it’s too early for us to…” You started.

“I know, don’t worry,” he interrupted you and moved up a little to get better access. “I won’t hurt you,” he assured you and you believed him because Buck would never do anything to harm you.

He attached his lip to your nipple and began to suck. You sighed out of relief and threw your head back while caressing his hair and feeling how his muscles relax under your touch. It was all you wanted for him – to finally rest and be at peace, to feel safe in your arms.

His soft, plump lips sucking on your sore nipples softly were making you feel warm all over your body. You were sighing and gasping with pleasure as the hardness of his cock grew, brushing your thigh under the fabric of his pyjama pants.

You felt bad for him because he wouldn’t be able to properly fuck you in two more weeks so you decided to please him in a different way. One of your hands wandered all the way down and under his pants to take his hard and swollen cock. You could already feel the leaking precum and you had to admit, you were pretty surprised that sucking your breasts could make him get so hard so fast but on the other hand you two hadn’t had sex in over a month now.

“Ooh, so heavy. Let me help you with that, baby,” you moaned at the feeling.

With your other hand you kept caressing the back of his head as you started to pump his cock. Buck moaned into your chest and attached his lips to the other nipple as his hands played with your free breast. He bucked his hips to help you jerk him off since he was so desperate to finally have his sweet release. He was nearly as desperate as he had been after coming back home from Europe but you didn’t mind that at all. In fact, you found it pretty hot that he was so needy for you and that it wasn’t taking much for him to finish because of you.

“Shh, you’re such a good boy for me,” you assured him in a whisper. “Let go, baby, don’t hold back.”

You picked up your pace and let your thumb circle around his tip to stimulate him even further and in a few chaotic thrusts of his hips, he came all over your hand while gasping and holding on to you. You kissed the top of his head with a soft smile and caressed his softening cock a few more times before reaching out to your nightstand for a tissue to clean up the mess.

“Did it feel good?” You asked, looking down at his face. His pretty baby blue eyes were hazy and his lips slightly parted. His flushed cheeks and messy hair were making him look even more adorable.

“It felt like heaven,” he breathed out.

You chuckled at that and wiped the corners of his mouth with another tissue to clean him up from your milk before cleaning up your breasts, too. Buck rolled over to lay on his back as he ran his hand through his hair and down his face.

“We can do it more often if you want to,” you told him after throwing the tissues away. “It felt nice… Such a relief,” you told him truthfully. “Sometimes she doesn’t drink enough and I am too full,” you added and rested your cheek on your elbow as you stared at his face lovingly.

Buck turned his face around to look into your eyes. He was still blushing slightly but he cracked a shy smile at you.

“Yeah, well, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to help you then, is it not?” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled before leaning in to kiss his cheek and then the top of his nose and lips.

“You’re an amazing husband, darling. Performing all of your duties so well that you should get a medal for that,” you teased him playfully.

“I don’t collect my medals,” he reminded you. He still didn’t collect the ones he had been given in Europe.

“Oh, this one you will,” you assured him with a wink. “Just give me two weeks.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (33/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The first encounter after.

Warnings: angst, some fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: kisses to all of you. I love you so much. feedback is appreciated!

Although Raphael stood outside your front door in the middle of the night the other night, shouting in the hallway and insulting you, tonight was a lot worse. 

You lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling in the hope that the explanation for Charles' behavior was written up there. But the only thing you could see was the moonlight shining gently through the window, right on the empty side of the bed. 

It felt wrong to lie here alone and have the whole mattress to yourself. You lay as close to the edge of your side of the bed as you could, trying not to breathe in Charles' scent still clinging to the sheets or feel the chill his absence left behind. In such a short time, you got so used to his closeness that you were so cold without it that you had to pull the comforter up to your chin. 

But none of this helped you fall asleep or think about anything other than the man you would have loved to have next to you, lying just a few meters away from you in the living room. 

You've admitted to yourself that you would do anything for Charles, that you want to be someone for him to hold onto when the ceiling falls in on him, or to push him to be better, even if it costs you your heart. Even though you both emphasized several times that you were just friends - best friends, even - you always carried that little piece of hope with you. And although there had been several moments that dampened the spark, it never fully went out. 

Until last night. 

Charles seems to have clearly drawn the line of friendship, which you had previously only drawn very gently with a pencil, in thick, dark black. 

"All I want from you is your friendship."

There's a huge difference between agreeing to a friendship and being told that it's the only thing you want from someone. Whether you push aside the sexual tension for the sake of friendship to protect it, or deny every possible scenario, every moment that was more than just friendship and act as if nothing ever happened. 

The distance you needed last night to come to terms with your feelings and the final rejection was to buy you time. Time to extinguish the spark of hope inside you and get rid of the ashes before the fire takes you over completely and destroys you. But Charles had taken your escape from bed upon himself. 

You could never feel uncomfortable in his presence. And you had wanted it too. You even wanted more than he gave you at that moment - much more. You would have given him everything without hesitation - you would have given yourself - if he had asked for it. 

You almost feel a little ashamed of how quickly you fell in love with him, especially since you closed yourself off from your feelings for so long and lied to yourself. For seven days, you blocked out the voice inside you that kept shouting hypocrite so that you wouldn't have to admit the truth. And now, when the tears have dried on your cheeks and you can think clearly again, you also know that it would have been smarter if you had listened to that voice.

You love Charles. The Charles who only wants your friendship and has unconsciously broken your heart, which you were supposed to protect.

And you want to keep it that way. You would never let him know what he has unintentionally done to you. Not because you don't want to give him the satisfaction - you're pretty sure he'd feel bad about hurting you like that - but because, firstly, you don't want his pity and, secondly, the truth that you love Charles would ruin your friendship. If Charles knew how you felt about him, he would no longer be able to see you as a friend, just as someone he can't give what they need. 

He shouldn't feel obliged to be friends with you.

You press your face into the pillow. How pathetic to love someone who wants nothing more than friendship from you. Someone who has opened their home to you and you have misinterpreted their every word, every moment and every touch. 

Not even when Raphael cheated on you did you feel as sorry for yourself as you did in this moment. Although your relationship has lasted longer, in none of the countless moments have you felt as strongly for him as you have for Charles for days. And although those few days were emotionally challenging and exhausting, and at times you would have loved to bang Charles' head against the wall or pull him into bed, they were so breathtaking and fantastic that nothing and no one would ever come close to Charles.

You smack your palm against your forehead. The chances that you would die alone increase with every moment that you hope that Charles might eventually return your feelings.

You need to get over these feelings, there's no doubt about it. Since you've both already established that you can't be without each other and it might hurt Charles if you were to end this friendship - "I don't think you realize how important your are to me" - there's no other option but to throw yourself fully into this friendship and erase this boundary you've been walking on. If there is no boundary, there is no beyond. Just friendship, nothing more and nothing less.

Before you can really think about whether the idea is as good as you think it is, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. According to the time on your cell phone, Charles could already be awake, so you shouldn't wake him as you walk down the hall to the bathroom. Besides, you can't hide in your room forever, so you decide to just get the first encounter over with. Come what may. 

As you pull a sweater, which you make sure is actually your own, over your head, you pause for a moment. Would it be weird if you were face to face? Would you even be able to get a word out? And if so, what would you say?

"I think it's good that we're going back to the beginning, where we didn't share a bed or touch each other. We should leave so much distance between us that outsiders would question whether we're even friends."

Definitely not. 

Of course you need to protect yourself and the distance that's been between you since last night certainly helps you get over your feelings, even if it's strictly speaking the last thing you want. But what you want most of all, what you desire and long for - you can't have that, unfortunately. 

If this friendship was the only thing you could get from Charles, you would gratefully accept it. Having a piece of him is still better than nothing.

You slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and fluffy socks before sticking your head out of the room. Although nothing can be heard, you leave the safety of your four walls and almost sprint towards the bathroom, where you brush your teeth and comb your hair. The dark circles you see in the mirror are the result of a sleepless night, so you try to conceal them a little, hoping that Charles won't recognize them and then realize how much his absence has kept you awake and bothered you.

Semi-satisfied, you enter the hallway and trudge towards the kitchen, passing the closed living room door. Apparently Charles is still asleep, which is why you quietly take boards and pans out of the cupboards in the kitchen to conjure up a decent breakfast on the table. Maybe that's your thing - trying to bypass strange conversations with a good breakfast, even if until today breakfast consisted of croissants and pain au chocolat.

As you dice two bell peppers and small tomatoes, you hear the living room door open. You look up from the chopping board in front of you and see Charles standing on the doorstep to the kitchen. 

"Good morning," you smile, hoping your smile looks as genuine as you imagine it does. "Would you like an omelette? The bell pepper and tomatoes are ready." Without waiting for an answer, you open the fridge and take some eggs out of the carton before placing them on the kitchen island next to the peppers. "I wanted to make you a coffee too, but I didn't know when you'd wake up and it would be a shame if it got cold."

Charles' gaze wanders from your face to the food in front of you before he looks at you in confusion. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He scratches the back of his neck nervously before pointing weakly towards the bathroom. "I'm just going to freshen up. I'll be right back."

"I'm here," you say cheerfully, trying to ignore the fact that his hair is sticking out of his head in a disheveled mess and how ravishing it makes him look. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you hear the bathroom door slam shut, you exhale in relief. So far it's gone better than you expected, even though it's been less than ten sentences and you can't interpret Charles' confusion. Did he expect you to stay sadly holed up in your room and not dare to leave? Or was he confused because you were preparing breakfast for him?

Lost in thought, you fry his omelette in the hot pan and make coffee, which you place in a large cup on the counter in front of you. You serve the finished omelette on a plate as Charles returns to the kitchen. He hesitantly sits down opposite you and examines the meal in front of him. 

"Everything all right?" you ask him with a raised eyebrow, supporting yourself with your hands on the worktop. "Does it look that awful? I know I'm not a five-star chef, but I don't think it looks that bad."

Charles opens his eyes and shakes his head. "No, no! Everything's fine. It looks great." He picks up his knife and fork and smiles at you. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting that."

You wave it off before turning around and washing your hands in the sink. After all the thoughts you've had this morning, you've lost your appetite. "No problem. We live together and friends cook for each other." You know that's not what he meant, but you don't want to talk about last night. About his touch, his thigh between your legs, the look on his face when he told you he was going to sleep on the couch.

Charles clears his throat, but doesn't respond either. "How did you sleep?" he asks instead, before shoving a piece of egg into his mouth. 

You turn back to him. "Just fine," you lie, hoping that the concealer under your eyes is doing its job. "I was a bit cold, but I was fine. And you? How was the couch?"

Your roommate shrugs. "Definitely more comfortable than the one in the other apartment." He takes a sip of coffee. "But I'll still be glad when my bed arrives soon. I got an email saying it should be delivered in the next few days."

You look at him in confusion. " On Christmas?"

Charles shakes his head. "After Christmas. I think it's the day Lando invited you and me to party."

He doesn't even say it. The us. The idea that there could be more between you than friendship seems that absurd to him. You try not to let on how much this is affecting you. 

"Okay." You chew the inside of your cheek. "If you want to go partying with Lando, I can stay here if the bed hasn't been delivered yet," you offer. "Then you can have a nice evening."

Charles raises an eyebrow. "Why would you stay here when it's my bed?"

Maybe because you don't want to see Charles flirting with other women? Or even going home with them?

You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know how much you want to stay here and sit around waiting when you could go out partying with your friends. After all, you said yes to him."

Charles places his cutlery on the plate in front of him a little more firmly than necessary. "What's that supposed to mean? Don't you want to go out at all?"

"I didn't say that." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "I just offered. Because friends do each other favors." Because friends help each other.

"Then why do you want to stay here so badly?" he asks, annoyed. "Don't you want to spend the evening with us? Or rather, with me?" There is an angry glint in his eyes.

"I didn't say that!" you defend yourself. 

Charles gets up from his chair and circles the kitchen island before standing directly in front of you. "Why are you distancing yourself from me like that? Am I so awful that you don't even want to spend the evening with me anymore?"

Quite the opposite. You would love to cling to him and never let him go again. But the thought of seeing him with another woman makes you feel sick. But you can't tell him that, so you stare at him silently. You can feel tears stinging your eyes. 

"I'm sorry that you feel uncomfortable and I'll do everything I can to make sure this friendship doesn't go down the drain," he sighs softly. "If it means never touching you again, then that's what I'll do. If you want to go back to the beginning, then that's what I'll do. But please -" His voice is more of a plea than a request. "Please don't shut me out of your life. It may sound selfish of me, but I can't - please stay with me."

The angry glint in his eyes has gone out, instead you see tears flash and all you want to do is wrap your arms around him and hold him so tightly to you until neither of you can breathe and you would die a happy death because it would be in his arms. 

But you have to protect yourself, your heart, which is why you only smile slightly at him. "I told you." Your muscles ache, you have to restrain yourself so much from touching him and showing him that you're exactly where you want to be. "I'm not going anywhere." 

Charles breathes a sigh of relief and turns away briefly so you can't see him wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes before turning back to you. "All right then." He stands up straight in front of you and tries to play the tough guy, but his shaky voice betrays him. 

You look uncertainly at the plate still on the worktop. "Besides, I don't want to miss your mother's Christmas dinner. I think she'd haunt me and decapitate me if I didn't show up."

Charles laughs. "I'm afraid so, too."

You stand facing each other in silence for a moment until something occurs to you. "You said to your mother yesterday that we had a lot to do today. Was that serious or just a white lie so we could get home quicker?"

Charles bites his lower lip for a moment before reaching for his cell phone, which is lying next to the plate on the worktop. He presses the button on the side twice before sliding his finger across the screen. After a minute, he looks at you. "I meant that for real. I thought maybe you and I could do something today so you wouldn't lose your photography skills."

You give him a mock scowl, but can't help smiling. "And that would be?" He holds out his phone to you with the weather app open. The weather forecast for today is unusually good, almost twenty degrees. You look at him, confused. "Okay? And what does that mean?"

Charles puts his phone in the pocket of his black jogging bottoms. "I thought maybe you and I could go out on the boat. My fans haven't received any new pictures of me for a few days. Maybe you'd like to take some of me?" he suggests. 

You look at him, puzzled. "You really want me to take photos for your Instagram account? Your official Instagram account?" you ask skeptically. When he nods, you tilt your head. "What happened to 'I'm trying to protect you'? Have you thrown your principles overboard now?" 

"Was that pun intentional?"

"Maybe."

He rolls his eyes. "Listen. Kika has already tagged you in her pictures, so I think it would be fine if you took some of mine too. I don't necessarily have to tag you in them and push my luck. But you're good at what you do and Joris doesn't have time for me at the moment to take professional photos with me. And on the way to the harbor, I'll keep a low profile so that no one else sees you and me."

You purse your lips. "So I'm just your second choice, hm?"

He comes a little closer to you, but doesn't touch you. "You're always my first choice." His breath brushes over your face. "So, what do you say? Spend the day with me on a nice boat?"

"Depends," you reply, raising an eyebrow. "What's in it for me if I can't get any publicity from you?"

Charles has to grin. "There's a chef on the boat who will prepare anything you want."

You pretend to think for a moment before shaking your head. "Not good enough for me."

"There's a great bar where you can get drunk," he continues to offer, but again you wave his offer away. 

"Nope."

Charles takes a deep breath before running a hand through his hair and then leaning so elegantly against the kitchen island and leaning towards you that your heart skips a beat. "I'll let you steer the boat." As your grin widens and almost reaches your ears, it's obvious he's got you hooked. "So, would you like to spend the day on a boat with me, mon amo - ami?" he quickly corrects himself. 

You heard him anyway. And inside you wonder whether he calls all his female friends that. Maybe it's a habit he has that he's trying to break just for you. So that you don't feel uncomfortable, even though it triggers the complete opposite in you, which you try to ignore.

"As long as I'm allowed to steer the boat," you reply.

Charles' hand, which is hanging at his side, twitches briefly, as if he's trying hard not to lift it up and place it against your cheek.

"Deal."

[awkward-walking-potato]

saw you wanted some wade requests so.... how about wade x a scatterbrained (probably has adhd) reader who always calls themselves stupid whenever they forget what they are doing \ walk into a room and forget what they were supposed to do?

Forget-Me-Nots

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring blankly at the open refrigerator. The cool air wafted over your face as you tried to remember why you had walked in here in the first place. You were sure it was important—maybe something for dinner? Or a snack? You couldn’t recall, and the longer you stood there, the more frustrated you became.

With a sigh, you closed the fridge door and leaned against the counter, muttering to yourself. “Ugh, I’m so stupid. Why can’t I remember anything?”

“Did someone say ‘stupid’? I’m pretty sure that’s a code word for needing more Deadpool in your life,” came a voice from the doorway. Wade strolled into the kitchen, a lopsided grin on his face as he made his way over to you. “What’s going on, babe?”

You glanced up at him, feeling a bit sheepish. “I came in here for something, but I completely forgot what it was. I feel so dumb. This happens all the time.”

Wade’s grin softened into something more tender as he reached out to ruffle your hair playfully. “First of all, you’re not dumb. Not even close. You’re just running on a different frequency than most people—one that happens to be way more interesting, might I add.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, even though the frustration still lingered. “I don’t know, Wade. It just feels like my brain’s always all over the place. Like I can’t focus on one thing for too long, and I keep forgetting stuff.”

Wade’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Well, that’s where I come in, babe. Ta-da!”

You looked down to see a small, brightly colored sticky note in your hand. On it, in Wade’s messy handwriting, were the words: You came in here for the snacks, didn’t you?

You blinked in surprise, and then a laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Because I know you, that’s how,” Wade said, looking way too pleased with himself. “And also because I’m a genius. But mostly the first thing. I figured you might get sidetracked, so I wrote you a little reminder earlier. Just in case.”

Your heart melted at the thoughtfulness behind the gesture, and you looked up at him with a mixture of affection and gratitude. “Wade, that’s so sweet of you. And, yeah, I was definitely thinking about snacks.”

Wade’s grin widened. “Called it! Now, let’s raid the pantry and find something good. I think we’ve got some chocolate stashed away somewhere.”

As the two of you searched through the cabinets, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of appreciation for Wade’s efforts. He didn’t just see your scatterbrained moments as a quirk to be tolerated—he saw them as an opportunity to show how much he cared about you. It was one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

Later that evening, as you were getting ready for bed, you found another sticky note taped to your bathroom mirror. This one read: Brush your teeth, beautiful. And don’t forget to floss—I know you hate it, but your smile’s worth it.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you did exactly what the note suggested. Wade had a knack for knowing exactly what you needed, even before you realized it yourself.

Climbing into bed, you found yet another note tucked under your pillow: You’re not stupid. You’re amazing, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you. Now, get some sleep—dream of me, will ya?

You clutched the note to your chest, feeling your eyes well up with tears, though they were the happy kind. Wade always knew how to lift your spirits, to remind you of your worth, even when you were feeling down on yourself.

When Wade finally joined you in bed, you turned to him and snuggled close, wrapping your arms around him as you whispered, “Thank you, Wade. For everything.”

He kissed the top of your head, his arms encircling you protectively. “Anything for you, babe. You’re my whole world, scattered brain and all. And don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more notes where those came from.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you drifted off to sleep. Wade might have been unpredictable and wild, but when it came to you, he was steady, thoughtful, and endlessly loving.

The next morning, you woke up to find a sticky note on your nightstand: Good morning, sunshine! Remember to take your meds and have breakfast. I made pancakes—don’t let them get cold!

You grinned, feeling a surge of affection for your wonderfully chaotic boyfriend. With Wade by your side, you knew you could face anything—even the most scatterbrained of days.