#i have forgotten how to do clean gifs it seems

[youdontloveme-yet]

#some things never change

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[sunflowerwinds]

gentle touch | s.a

summary: you take care of sevika, jinx, and isha after the fight with vi and caitlyn. sevika, for the first time in a long time, breaks down when you remind of her that it’s okay to let go.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: established relationship, fluff, angst, sevika needs a BREAK!, reader and sevika are lowkey parents now.

word count: 2.4K

a/n: i know i said yesterday i would post this but IT NEEDED SOME TWEAKING! i promise the next sevika oneshot will probably be smut but fluff was all that brain felt like writing <3

You had a gut feeling that Jinx’s plan would end badly. Even with Sevika’s repeated reassuring you that everything would fall into place and you two could finally have some peace in your lives, your strong intuition haunted your thoughts.

Oh, how you hated how right you were.

Jinx and Sevika burst through you and Sevika’s shared apartment with that small golden-eyed child, Isha. She was clinging onto Jinx’s leg, clearly infatuated with the deranged blue-haired girl. Your eyes lock on her fluffy head of head then those big innocent eyes of hers, noticing a little cut on her cheek. She whimpered as she followed Jinx into the apartment space, the elder of the two grumbling nonsense to herself.

Sevika's exposed skin was littered with scrapes and bruises, her chest rising and falling slowly. Your eyes shot to her exhausted figure, worry settling in your bones. You had almost forgotten about Jinx until you saw it out of the corner of your eye; her entire middle finger was gone.

Straight to the bone.

The empty space between her pointer and ring finger nearly made you gag out of discomfort. The overwhelming distress of needing to take care of the three had you lightheaded but you pushed through.

“Jesus,” was the first thing you said, walking up to Sevika’s towering figure to wrap your arms around her neck.

Your girlfriend tenses for a moment at the tackle of a hug she was receiving but recovered quickly. Her claw arm stayed by her side as her other found its home at your waist, pulling you in with a long sigh.

“What happened?” You mutter against her neck before pulling away to cradle her blue scarred cheek.

“The kid got in the way is what happened,” Jinx spoke up before Sevika could say anything as she trudged over to sink and twisted the tap, running her open wound under it with a wince.

Your eyes lock with Isha who is now staring at you and Sevika. You muster a weak smile for the child, turning back to your injured girlfriend.

Her eyes seemed… distant.

“Hey, Sev, baby?” Your voice is low, trying to get her attention.

The familiar gray of her eyes focuses on your own, blinking before shaking her head.

“We’re fine,” she dismisses.

Jinx scoffed from the sink. “And what do you call losing a finger? Just dandy, huh?”

Sevika had clear frustration written all over her features at the sound of Jinx’s voice, releasing your waist to trudge over to the couch. You watch her carefully as she reaches for the green bottle of liquor she often brought from the Last Drop and takes a huge swig of it.

You knew how defeated she must feel. Hit after hit; mission after mission. She was worn down and she attempted to hide it from you constantly. Her heavy eyes and dark circles underneath were a given to her clear exhaustion. She would get slightly irritable but kept it under control around you as you weren’t afraid of her as most were.

You were afraid for her.

“Sev, can you sit down? You’re bleeding.” You point to the cushions, brushing a few of your flyaways out of your face. “Don’t huff at me either. I’m not letting you rest until you get cleaned up.”

Without another huff or grunt, she does as she’s told. You hurry to your bathroom, rummaging underneath the sink in there to grab the necessities for the three girls. As you stood up on your bare feet and glanced at the doorway, there stood Isha with wide and curious eyes.

Your heart couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her little hat tipping as she was trying to watch what you were doing.

“You got a little hurt too, huh?” You question.

Isha simply stares at you, looking at the medical supplies in your hands. She was probably unaware of the droplets of blood on her skin.

“C’mon. Gotta get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” you jerk your chin back to the room where the other two were.

The child follows as you walk past her, her small boots hitting the wooden floors. Jinx was leaning against the countertop, simply staring at the missing digit. Isha immediately stumbles over to the equally exhausted Jinx, resting her head on her upper thigh and shutting her eyes in relief. You noticed Jinx’s pale back rise in tension for a split second before relaxing when realizing it was just the adorable child.

Her innocence was admirable yet worrisome.

You walk over to your girlfriend as you set the supplies down in front of you, sighing at her injuries.

“Sev, talk to me,” you frown at her zoned-out look.

“I should’ve left her here with you,” Sevika lets out an irritated sigh, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger.

“Isha?” You question as you pour a bit of alcohol on a rag.

“Who else? She ran in the middle of everything. Got right there in between Vi and Jinx. If I wasn’t distracted with that little enforcer of Vi’s, I would’ve been able to keep an eye on the kid.”

As Sevika explained the situation to you, you carefully cleaned the scrapes of her arm and abdomen. The muscles underneath your palms flexed at the feeling of the alcohol seeping into the injuries. Your eyes followed down her toned arm, landing on the teeth imprints on the space between her pointer finger and thumb.

“Did that enforcer bite you?” Your brows furrow as you take her large hand into your smaller one in disbelief.

Sevika nods to confirm, noticing your tense expression.

“It doesn’t hurt if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You give a pointed look before shaking your head as you continue to wipe up the dried-up blood. She sucked in a sharp breath when you placed a hand on her upper chest, now inviting yourself onto her lap. Your thighs press against hers as you now tend to her face. Any other day you would’ve jumped her bones but everything in you just wanted to make sure she was okay.

Her hard eyes slowly soften as you lean in close to wipe the blood off of her sculpted face. She watched your every move, holding back the urge to litter your face in kisses. Staring at the curves of your lips to the little marks on the natural beauty of your face.

And she almost acts on that very urge until Isha takes her attention off of you tending to her as she hops up onto the couch. She holds back the grumble itching in her throat as you shift your attention to the child.

You grin sweetly at Isha’s awaiting expression. “Alright, Goldie. Come here. Let’s clean your face up.”

Her own small smile breaks onto her face as she scoots in closer to you, her much smaller knee bumping into Sevika’s. You lift your rag and dab it over the dried blood, watching it disappear from her freckled skin. Once you are focused on Isha’s minuscule scrape, Sevika’s palm reaches up to hold your exposed waist from leaning over on Sevika’s lap.

You ignore it for your own sake, sucking in a deep breath as you sit back up on her large lap. Cupping her adorable face and rubbing a thumb over the little cut before tracing the outline of her round face.

“See? Good as new.”

Isha holds onto her hat as she releases a soft giggle underneath her breath. Her big eyes glance at Sevika who furrows her brows in confusion at the child’s stare.

In the blink of an eye, Isha’s small arms throw themselves around Sevika’s neck and squeezes herself in between you and Sevika’s torso. You usually would scold anyone about having their dirty shoes on the furniture but watching Sevika’s panicked expression at Isha's affection was more important in that moment.

“Seems like she has a new favorite, Jinx,” you tease the blue-haired girl.

There was silence. You look up to see Jinx slumped against the countertop, face smushed into the surface as soft noises of slumber leave her mouth.

“Alright, kid.” Sevika patted her back as a signal for Isha to release her.

She refused; in fact, she even snuggled her small face into the crook of Sevika’s neck. Your girlfriend looked to you for help but you simply smiled, standing up from her lap. You lean forward to kiss her cheek before pointing to Jinx’s clearly worn-out figure.

“I’m going to wrap Jinx’s hand and I’ll take her to our room so she can sleep.”

Sevika opened her mouth for a moment but kept still on the couch as Isha kept herself seated on her torso and small arms clinging onto her neck. You try to hurry and take Jinx’s slim hand, wincing at the sight of the open wound but carefully wrap it before her reflexes kick in.

You didn’t want to lose a finger yourself.

“I’ll take her to bed,” Sevika’s gruff voice comes from behind you.

You jump at the sound, wondering how you didn’t even hear her get up from the couch. You turn to face her and hold back your smile at the sight of Isha still clinging onto her, her new mechanic claw arm holding her up.

“Are you sure?” You question, taping the wrap down.

Sevika nodded curtly and leaned down slightly to give you a gentle kiss onto your lips. You chase after her lips as you realize how much you have missed that feeling of her lips on your own. Her eyes couldn’t keep off of your own as she easily lifted Jinx’s figure and threw her over her shoulder.

You two share a look as you glance at Isha’s now asleep figure. Sevika carefully hands her tiny body over to you, making sure she is still sound asleep. You and Sevika make your way to the bedroom, your hand cradling Isha’s head and watching Jinx’s limp figure over your girlfriend’s shoulder.

As much as you enjoyed seeing Sevika be so attentive to the scrappy girl who she claimed she wasn’t fond of, you were worried about what was flooding through her brain. Once Sevika sets Jinx down on the mattress, you walk around her to set Isha down right next to her. Sevika stands right next to the bed, examining the two sleeping soundly.

“You can lay down too, Sev,” you hum, reaching for her forearm.

Sevika was silent before turning her head to look at your gentle touch on her scathed arm. You watch her brows furrow as she turns to your body, her broad shoulders relaxing. She lets you grab her hand to lead around to the other side of your bed. She steadily sits down, grunting at an ache that shoots up her spine.

You follow her movements and find your place snuggled next to her warm body. Her head turned to you and fell forward to place her forehead on your chest, her arms wrapping around your torso.

“I just… need you here for a bit,” Sevika admits as she inhales your scent that she missed so dearly.

You frown at the near whine in her voice as her grip on you tightens as if you were going to leave if she did. Sevika was rarely as vulnerable as she was at this moment with you. After Silco’s death, Sevika had to take over everything — not like she wasn’t doing most of his dirty work for him when he was alive. She didn’t have a her and it was draining the life out of her slowly.

“I’m not leaving, baby. I promise,” you tell her with consideration of her sensitive state.

“I said I would get us out of this.” Sevika begins and you shake your head, shutting down whatever bullshit was going to come out of her mouth.

“I want to be in this if it's with you, okay? Sev, I can see how tired you are, my love. You won’t let yourself rest and I can’t stand to see you slowly wearing yourself down like this.”

You lift your hand to take the elastic that was holding up half of her hair out, running your fingers through the strands on her tender scalp. Sevika lets out a shaky breath, clinging onto you tighter.

“I don’t want you worrying about me,” she huffs, voice wavering. “I can handle it.”

You sigh as you cradle the back of her head, sucking in a deep breath as your eyes fill to the brim with hot tears.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to handle it alone. You already do everything on your own, baby.”

Sevika’s breathing was growing heavier and stronger, giving away how rapidly her emotions were taking over. The second Sevika lifted her head up to look into your eyes, you saw a single tear leave the corner of hers.

The clear pain on her face triggered your own tears that were building up in your eyelids to fall slowly. You shakily cupped the side of her face, watching her eyes shut at the feeling.

“I’m so tired,” she sighed, leaning into your touch.

You nod as you swipe away the streak, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know, Sev. I know,” you whisper. “You can sleep, baby.”

Sevika huffs out a slow breath, trying to regain control of her intense exhaustion taking over. Her beautiful gray eyes flutter shut, allowing herself to lean into you. You welcome her with nothing but love. You attempt to regulate your tears as you place a kiss onto her forehead.

“I love you,” you whisper onto the skin.

Sevika's arms relax around your waist, adjusting it so that Jinx’s creation wouldn’t be poking into your lower back. You knew the phrase was overwhelming for Sevika so you agreed to say it when you deemed it was absolutely necessary.

In the crook of your neck, she mutters: “I love you.”

You couldn’t help the next few tears falling from your face at her breaking voice.

She felt safe enough with you. Vulnerability was a struggle with Sevika but when she was able to release the worries of seeming weak, timid, a failure; you were so immensely proud of her.

You glance over at the two other girls who were sound asleep in the bed. Isha’s small hand held onto one of Jinx’s long braids and Jinx’s mouth was slightly ajar as her limbs were curled up into her body.

The steady beat of you and Sevika’s hearts matching with one another’s helps the two of you fall into a deep sleep.

TAGLIST: @breezy-sapphic @fict1onallyobsessed @fandomnana @cewl-casper @lovinglynny @archangeldyke-all

[moonlight-prose]

smut prompt #8 for logan 👀💗

forty five minutes in the closet

a/n: not me literally writing this in right where you left me ch4. hilarious and iconic timing, because i was fighting the urge to just have them fuck full on in that closet. so here's my chance to do just that. for funsies i'm shoving it into that universe. do not look at me for using that gif. i literally can't deny myself the sight.

summary: an alternative scene to what really happened in that closet.

OR wade wilson forces logan to play seven minutes in heaven. (it was longer than seven minutes if we're being honest.)

word count: 2.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, dirty talk, logan is filthy af and we love that, spit, fingering sort of, p in v sex, quickie, rough sex, biting, he's down bad for his honey what can i say, panty gag, a formal apology for how fucking horny and unhinged this is.

The closet felt smaller than intended—even as your back was pressed to the wall hard enough to feel the cracks in the drywall that stretched to the ceiling. Laughter filtered through the thin wooden door as Wade told yet another joke about shit you couldn't discern. Even if you asked him to explain, you'd still be confused come morning.

Logan leaned heavily against his side of the closet. Approximately two feet of space between you. The tips of your shoes touched his boots. The faint scent of cigar smoke still lingered from where he ripped it out and tossed it in an ashtray. You wouldn't have cared if he smoked in here. You might have asked for a puff.

He insisted on keeping the air clean in case you had to breathe.

Wade claimed you were playing seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of alone time with the man who made your head spin. In a proximity close enough to feel the heat of his body from where you stood. Although you'd been standing there for four minutes (you were keeping count via the watch on Logan's wrist) and the group seemed to have forgotten about the both of you entirely.

"Do you—um—know what usually happens here?"

A smile curved on his lips—eyes scrutinizing you with a look that told you he was teasing you. "Yeah. I do. I'm old, not stupid."

"I just wanted to make sure..." In a swift move you barely saw, he rose to his full height and crossed the invisible line holding the two of you on opposing sides. "Oh–"

"Honey." His voice was low, yet you felt as if he was screaming in your ear.

"Yes?" you breathed—eyes fixed on the way his chest took up your space. His flannel was stretched across it and for a moment you wondered if you started salivating at the sight.

"Are you nervous?"

Another raucous round of laughs broke through the darkness that surrounded you. But you could barely hear them over the echo of your own heart. It hammered loudly against your chest—quickening the closer he got. The more his large frame began to engulf you in a warmth you only dreamed of. You clamored to come up with a response, to flippantly push off his advance with a tease of your own.

His hands pressing on either side of your head to the wall behind you killed every ounce of bravery you had left. All your worries and thoughts about what lay on the other side of that door were extinguished. Logan leaned down, his nose brushed yours, and inhaled deep enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

"I can smell you," he rumbled. "Sweet like honey."

A searing heat built beneath your skin, burning from your cheeks down to the tips of your toes. Your mouth opened—words still fighting to be formed—but he didn't need an answer. Not when he could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. How you subtly shifted to find a bit of friction in the hopes of something more.

"You mind if I kiss you bub?"

A piece of you fractured in the darkness of that closet—settling comfortably in his own chest. You might ask for it back after all of this, but Logan felt his chances of you walking out as his were growing the longer this went on.

Glancing up—eyes wide and darkened with lust—you bit back the whine that crawled up the back of your throat. "They'll hear us."

He shrugged, shifting close enough for you to almost taste the whiskey off his lips. "Good."

"Logan–"

Lips pressed to your cheek, drawing a soft sigh from your parted mouth. "Somethin' tells me they're just waiting for it." His hand left the wall to trail along your waist, dipping slowly with a kiss to the corner of your lips. "And somethin' also tells me...you like that idea."

It's not as if you were entirely opposed to the idea. Actually most nights (if not every night) was spent with you imagining what it would be like to feel him this way. To be stretched with his cock so much you would feel a delicious burn.

You craved it.

He knew solely from the wanton look on your face. The way your eyes fluttered the further his hand went.

"You gonna let me in or what honey?" he cooed, fingers dipping beneath your skirt to seek out the slick that soaked the lace of your underwear.

Surely the seven minutes had run out, leaving the both of you to make a choice. Stay here and keep going for everyone to catch you. Or walk out, find a room, and continue this in private.

The thought of waiting a second longer snapped at your heels with an air of impatience you let consume you. What the fuck did it matter if they heard you getting fucked against the wall? What did it matter if you'd never live this down as long as you lived?

How could you actually think about shame when Logan's fingers were pressed against your dripping cunt, seeking out your clit through the thin fabric that divided you.

Sagging against the wall with a soft moan, you gripped his flannel in your fist and yanked his lips to yours. He groaned, falling into your body and effectively pinning you to the wall, as his tongue met yours. And suddenly you realized...you liked how whiskey tasted off of his tongue.

He devoured you with the kiss, swallowing each moan and stunted whine as his fingers made quick work of finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles, he plunged his tongue into your mouth - licking at your teeth with a fervor that seeped down into your stomach. It was messy. His spit mixed with yours, staining the skin of your cheek. Your slick coated the inside of your thighs as he pushed the fabric into you roughly.

Yet none of it felt enough to ease the ache that spread rapidly down to the tips of your fingers. Your heart twisted as he gripped the back of your neck—leading you in a kiss that divulged down to nothing but teeth and spit.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your leg hooking around his hip, in the hopes of dragging him closer. To feel the hard bulge against the rough denim of his jeans.

"Look at you," he mumbled against your cheek. "All pretty and leakin' for me."

A sharp burst of need pulled tight at your stomach—the breath torn from your lungs. "Inside–"

He smiled. "C'mon honey. Use that smart head of yours. Gimme some words."

His words were a brutal tease that scraped against your skin. Yet that coupled with his fingers that seemed to hold an edge of desperation, left you gasping for air. Fingers dug into his shirt, lips found his in the hollow darkness, and you begged for mercy. This was your penance. The altar he intended to bend you across.

Oh how you longed for him to follow through.

"Fuck me," you managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath and heady kisses. "Please Logan. It hurts.

The sound that emanated from deep in his chest could only be described as feral. You'd never heard him like that before. Bordering on the line of unhinged and sanity. A flare of want pulled at your body, echoing loudly in your chest.

You wanted to hear it again. To feel him break beneath your palms as he rutted into you with need. You ached to watch him whittle himself down to the barest of his senses. The animalistic urge of lust he kept hidden for weeks on end.

"Yeah?" His words were a snarl against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw as he ripped his hand away. "'M gonna make it better. Gonna take away the pain."

Nails scratched at the back of his neck when you heard his claws slide out—cutting through the fabric that clung to you. It was sopping wet; proof that you hadn't in fact been lying about your need. Logan felt his cock leak in his jeans at the sight—how your slick clung to his fingers as he swiped along the gusset.

"All for me," he sighed.

"Uh-huh." If you thought you sounded needy before, that was nothing compared to this moment.

He eyed you briefly. The hazel you'd grown fond of now dark and clouded with lust. The plea for more lay on the tip of your tongue—ready to be laved against his skin the longer he took. But then he brought the fabric to his mouth, his tongue running across it with a broken groan. The breath was punched from your lungs—legs shaking as a wave of slick poured out of you.

"Oh fuck–" you gasped, cupping his chin to catch his lips in a kiss.

The clink of his belt buckle echoed like a gunshot in the small space. Your heart began to race. Fingers shaking as you watched him tug his cock free; fisting the red and leaking tip with a throaty moan. Saliva filled your mouth at the mere thought of him sliding between your lips. The image of him feeding you his cock with a smile.

He fanned the flames of your simmering fire, offering you pleasure with ease.

His hand gripped your other leg, positioning it over his hip before pushing you up along the wall. The yelp was muffled by his lips; your hands finding purchase against his hot skin.

"Gotta be real quiet now bub," he mumbled, sliding his cock along your drenched cunt.

The head tapped against your clit once, twice. By the third time your teeth were dug into your bottom lip so hard copper burst on your tongue.

"I promise."

He chuckled, breathless. You joined.

The compact space stretched out before you, expanding with each joined breath and laugh. Passion intertwined in your chest, reaching for him with a tender touch of reverence. And nothing existed but the two of you.

"Hey Logan."

His cock jumped at the sound of your voice so light and airy. "Yeah honey?"

"If I don't tell you after this." Your hips canted into his, grinding towards where he positioned himself. "I had a really nice time tonight."

His heart fluttered as your words settled into his skin—soaking up your warmth. "Me too."

The laughter diminished the second he pushed forward, sliding into you with a slickened thrust that left his body shuddering. You swallowed the sob that wrenched from your chest when he kept going. Stretching you until you felt the burn begin to seep into your body. You weren't prepared for how addicting it felt; how mindless he made you.

Seven minutes had surely blended into fifteen, giving the group no doubt of what you were doing. That only solidified when he bottomed out and you moaned so loud it nearly gave him a heart attack. His fingers clamored for something in his pocket—his lips sliding against yours to silence the endless whimpers. He filled you until you saw white behind your eyes each time they fluttered closed.

"They're gonna hear ya," he muttered. You caught a flash of lace before it was being pressed to your lips—willing you to part them and hold the fabric between your teeth.

Logan gave you one minute to find your brain in the muddled thoughts that filled you, before pulling out. Only to slam back in. Your cry was muffled—eyes rolled back—and he felt a searing triumph begin to form in his chest. At the sight of you in a messy state of bliss.

His hips slapped against yours, the wet slide of your cunt a loud echo. Adding to the symphony of his groans and your whimpered sounds. Your spit soaked into the lace, fingers digging hard along the planes of his back, and he felt you gush at the feel of his teeth sinking into your neck.

"So fuckin' sweet for me," he grunted, cupping your ass to push you back and forth on his cock. A shift in the angle had you going dumb. Eyes wide and glazed with tears. "My pretty girl huh?"

Fuck you wanted to scream. You longed to hear his name bounce off the closet walls and spill into the foyer of Wade's damn apartment. To remind them that time was still passing and their limit had reached the vastness of infinity.

He pounded into you with sharp gasps of praise, words that fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood that ran right to your head. Oxygen felt secondary when his cock kissed the wall of your cunt with such accuracy it left you blinded. Enough to have you sobbing into the spit soaked lace - tears spilling down your cheeks.

"You take it like it was fuckin' made for you yeah?"

You nodded, breasts bouncing as he fucked you along his cock—his other hand pressed to the wall. You took it like it was made for you, because it was made for you. Logan belonged to you. Whether he knew it now or not.

"I can feel you squeezin' me," he gasped. "Gonna cum?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, the squelch of your cunt loud enough to block out the laughter from the outside.

"Then do it honey." His thumb found your clit, swirling it with sharp pointed circles. Your toes curled in your shoes—head falling back to the wall with a soft thud. "That's it. Fuckin' cum for me."

"Mmff–" A sob of what morphed into his name tore from the depths of your body. Rendering you a shaky mess in his arms as you clamped down around his cock.

Slick poured out of you, coating the hair along the base of his stomach in your essence. Logan growled at the sight. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared with each stunted thrust of his hips into yours. Claws punctured the drywall behind you as a way to keep his body level. To ground himself as he came with a hoarse groan he quickly muffled into the top of your breast.

Grinding into you, he emptied himself entirely. Rope after rope of his spend now filling you to the point of dripping down to his balls.

You felt the need to drop to your knees and taste him.

To clean him entirely and place him neatly back in his jeans. But the movement of your body no longer remained an option—your legs numb and back sore from being pounded into the wall.

He removed the gag with a huff, kissing you gently with his thumbs pressed to the tops of your cheeks. A soft caress. A contract to the rough way he manhandled you.

"I can't feel my legs," you sighed into his mouth, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"You're not supposed to." The weak slap to his chest had him laughing louder than intended.

"Don't worry. Wade won't notice if you carry me."

He groaned, his teeth scraping at the flesh of your breast. "Don't fuckin’ say his name or I won't be able to fuck you again tonight."

You giggled, running your hands through his mussed hair. "Whiskey dick?"

"Shut up–"

"He's told you–"

Lips sealed over yours, hips pushing yours until the sigh stuttered from your chest. "Don't fuckin' start honey."

You smiled into the kiss. "Or you'll finish?"

A thump rammed against the door, startling the both of you. You half expected it to swing open and expose Logan with his jeans down to his knees and his softened cock still inside you. But all that came through was Wade's laughter—his knuckles rapping on the wood.

"Did he rise babygirl?" he shouted much to the detriment of the group who booed behind him.

"I will cut you open through the door!" Logan snarled. A triumphant laugh rattled the walls as Logan lowered you to the ground. Only for Wade to get the last official word.

"HE ROSE!"

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.

Chapter 8: Awooga?

Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.

There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.

It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.

Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.

You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.

Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.

You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.

Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.

Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.

you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?

The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.

Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?

You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.

you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.

Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.

you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.

Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.

You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.

Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.

That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.

Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.

Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.

The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.

“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.

Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.

you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!

As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.

You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.

Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.

Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

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

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear

[shawnxstyles]

baby honey 2

DATE: NOVEMBER 5, 2023

summary: you and harry need to talk. so, you do. along with other things.

song: Fantasy- the driver era

words: 7.2k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, choking], daddy kink, slight dumbification, mentions of voyurism/exhibitism [not clearly stated] and porn, protected sex, dirty talk!!), language, and a very blunt y/n.

note: i actually got a part two out not that long after the first part?? omg?? monumental moment here guys. enjoy! PART ONE!

secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n

—

DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?

You were waiting by your computer for the longest sixteen minutes of your life. That’s how long it took Harry to watch your less-than-ten-minute video and then text you back. Your heart, which was still flat on the floor of your stomach, leaps excitedly when it sees Harry’s message on your computer screen.

That message alone verified to you that DaylightDaddy was indeed Harry. Of course Harry would bring back his infamous saying at a time like this. You wanted to ditch the conversation on this website and text Harry personally. You also wanted to go to his house and pounce on him for being ridiculously attractive and vulnerable. You were an idiot by not saying anything yesterday and he was an idiot by being so blunt and angry. You both could have ruined not only your friendship but your chances at being something more by not talking. Communication is key, yet you’re still locked.

Why?

Maybe because somewhere in the dark crack of your heart, you’re terrified that you’ll be vulnerable to a man that’s six years older than you just for him to say that he doesn’t actually like you. He just likes your breasts and the idea of sleeping with you.

But that’s not Harry, right?

Without responding to his message, you grab your phone that has been forgotten on your floor. The second you sent that video to him you chucked it across the room and hoped for the best. It seems as though it worked, but at the same time, there is still so much unsaid with Harry. So many feelings you need to work out. But first, you need to talk and figure out how you both actually feel. Is it just lust? Is it just the fact that you two work together? Or is it something more?

Y/N: harry

He texts you almost simultaneously.

Harry: Y/N

Your fingers freeze at the keyboard. Even though you were just talking to him, how do you bring up such a serious conversation. We need to talk? Or I need to talk to you? They both sound bad.

Harry: Are you working today?

You and Harry both know damn well neither of you works. Him asking this question just seems like he’s continuing to avoid you, and avoid the inevitable conversation that you guys need to have. Did your video not spark a lightbulb in his head? How can he not tell that you do feel whatever he feels? Maybe even more…

Y/N: i am not, but i think you know that

Y/N: can we talk? are you busy?

You know he’s not busy, but that doesn’t make his reaction any scarier.

Harry: I’m free

Harry: Do you want to come over

It was one of the scariest texts he’s ever sent. After what just went down between you two, inviting you over could mean anything. It’s clear there’s a strong attraction connecting you both, but there is also a lot of murky water that needs to be cleaned.

Y/N: yes

Harry: Let me pick you up

That stubbornness inside of you that Harry is all too familiar with wanted to fight him. To tell him that you are more than capable of driving yourself, even though you only have Penny’s car for one more day. But him suggesting to pick you up showed his desperation to see you. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the forward action instead of the backing away was what you two needed.

Y/N: okay

Y/N: give me an hour!!

You needed time to think about it of course.

—

Within that hour, you were going crazy. You took a warm, hard-pressed shower in order to massage all the tension in your body and hopefully in your mind. You thought about every possible scenario about seven thousand times, hoping that you’d get it right. This time, you planned to say the right words and not stand there like a fucking statue when faced with his vulnerability. This time, you were going to be vulnerable too, because you’ve never had a chance at something more like this before. And you don’t want to ruin it just because you’re afraid. How lame is that?

While you were waiting for Harry to text you, you pace around the room. Your eyes averted to your computer that was still lying on your bed, and the only thing you could think about was your conversation with Harry. Not only had he called you attractive but he compared your beauty to everyone on the website and still said you were the most attractive. Was that just him flirting? Or was he being serious? You wondered if Harry really felt that way about you and you hoped you would find out soon.

On that thought, you never even checked if his money went through. You know the second that it does you’ll be giving it right back to him. So, while you’re still waiting, you open up your bank app on your phone. Even though you’re sitting on your bed now, your leg is still bouncing up and down, anxiety infiltrating your blood like the most insane drug.

When you finally comprehend the number that is present on your screen, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. You blink a couple hundred times before briskly checking your most recent transactions. In neon green letters an extravagant $2000+ appears in front of you. Your hand jaggedly and slowly finds its way over your agape mouth, bewildered at Harry’s extreme act. What on earth would cause Harry to willingly send you that much money? Yes, you have complained about your financial situation, but you also clearly denied Harry of a loan. Now, you have to send his money back and it’s going to be really awkward. Another thing you have to add to your list of “Things to Talk Through with Harry”. Just as you close the app, Harry texts you that he’s at your place.

–

“Hey,” You manage to cough out as you slide nervously into his passenger seat.

“Hey,” Harry replies with a thick swallow. His grip on the steering wheel changes from intense to loose every few seconds before he starts the car.

There’s a low hum on the radio along with his air conditioning blowing cool air towards you. But other than that, no one had said a word. You peek over the dashboard a few times to see the road, wondering how far Harry lives from you and how quickly you can get out of this car. You hoped when you got to his house that this unbreathable, anxious tension would have died down, so you two can finally sort this shit out.

As a few more minutes pass by, you realize that you hate this. You hate the awkward silence that’s dawning over your friendship and making you overthink every single word. It’s never been like this with Harry, ever. You’ve never had to second-guess your late-night conversations and he never had to restrain his friendly charm. This, this tension, is unlike both of you.

You have to talk. Maybe you should mention the money?

“I know y’want to say something. Just say it, please, I can’t stand this awkwardness,” Harry blurts out as he stops at a red light. You inhale and blink, suddenly feeling a bit more alive with the sound of his voice.

“I looked at my bank,” You said, looking down at your lap. You were already being shy and you haven’t even got to the actual vulnerable stuff yet. What is wrong with you?

“Have you?”

“Yeah, and I saw the money you gave me.”

“Good.”

“Harry, you know I can’t take that,” Now, you turn your head towards his, which is safely facing the road. But you know he sees you and you know he’s stressed with your stubbornness.

“But you already did. It’s in your account, yeah?”

“Okay, but–”

“I don’t understand why you won’t take my money. Is it not good enough for you or somethin’?” Harry’s voice has become more agitated, making his last turn a bit sharper. You see him take a deep breath as he pulls into a driveway of a nice house. It was nice because the lawn was green and cut and the color of its walls were a pleasant cream color with a smooth navy blue as its border. It wasn’t the biggest house ever, but Harry was more practical than that. He didn’t need some huge, showy house in order to seem cool. Harry was already cool, whether he knew it or not.

“All money is the same, you doy.”

“You didn’t want it when I said I could loan it to you. Then I found a way to give it to you because you earned it and you still won’t take it. How does that make sense?”

“That’s different!”

“How is that different?”

“You of all people should know!”

Harry groans out of frustration and gets out of the car. “Let’s just get in the house.”

You follow suit, shutting the car door a little more roughly than you thought. Before you know it, you’re in his house and it’s just so Harry. His furniture is smooth; all browns and woods. He had pictures of his family scattered along with abstract art. By his decently sized television is a large record player next to an impressive case of vinyls. He even has a miniature bookshelf full of books that would probably bore you, but it still fascinates you.

“What, have you never seen a house before?”

“Don’t get all snappy with me. We were supposed to talk.”

“You make it difficult.”

“Why? Because I won’t take your money?”

“That doesn’t help,” he crosses his arms before dropping to sit on his couch. Again, you follow him, but keep your distance. You don’t miss the way his house smells just like him; a homey breeze of fresh air with a sprinkle of nature. It was earthly and friendly and charming. Just like him. “But it’s your stubbornness.”

To be fair, your stubbornness is one of Harry’s favorite traits about you. But it’s also the one that gets under his skin the most. He admires the way you can stand up for yourself and you know how to get exactly what you want. But he’s noticed that your need for independence interferes with your other desires.

“I can’t help it. I was born to fight,” You sighed out, lying against the couch cushions. “At least that’s what my dad always says.”

“I don’t want to fight, Honey,” The new nickname has rows of shivers cascading your skin. You feel a tingle in your stomach that you get when he says something charming or flirtatious. It’s impossible to fight the butterflies and heart pulses he gives you.

“Me either,” You take a deep breath, just like you did in the shower and just like Harry did in the car. This was your time to be vulnerable, to be first. You wanted to show Harry that you cared and that you weren’t just being stubborn to be annoying. You loved when you guys would close together, even if you consistently told him you would do it yourself. You loved the late-night talks you would have while cleaning up the bar, talking about anything and everything in order to waste time. You were endeared that Harry always walked you to your car in the early morning after the doors were locked just to make sure you were safe. You missed the way his hands felt on your arms when he caught you and the feeling of his chest pressed closely to yours. Friends don’t crave like that. No, because you weren’t friends. You were more and you both knew it. You cared about him and you appreciated his care for you. Shit, you freaking liked him and it took you both revealing your secret identities to prove it. Even if you two haven’t technically talked about it.

“H…”

“Y/N.”

“Everything you told me that night. Was it true?”

There was a weighted beat. One that was long and heavy enough to shatter the earth.

“Yes, of course it was. Why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t–” You turned to face him. “I’m not…good at this stuff. I don’t randomly hook up with people or go on dates. I especially don’t go to their house after sending them a video of me orgasming to confess my feelings to them.”

Harry blinks. He didn’t think you would mention it so vulgarly, but maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. But he would like to. He doesn’t sound like you’re accusing him of doing those things, more of just you warning him about yourself. Harry does extract the little hint of your words and uses them to interrogate you.

“Feelings. What feelings?”

“Well, currently I’m frustrated–”

“Y/N,” his voice of seriousness causes your eyes to drop into your lap. You fiddle with your thumbs like a nervous kindergartener on their first day of school. It wasn’t like you to get so shy. You were a bartender for a living; you couldn’t be shy. But you just haven’t reserved these types of feelings for someone in so long it feels foreign. It feels as though you’re stretching outside of your comfortable zone and forcing you to be sheepish with your eyes down.

“Fine. I like…our friendship. A lot. But this week made me realize that I want more than that. With you,” You peer up at him through your eyelids, hoping not to see his face cringe with disgust at your words. But Harry’s face is flattened straight with nothing but the intent of listening. He even has a sparkle of softness in his eyes that makes your heart lurch out to him. He cared, and it showed in his features. Your mom always told you that people’s real emotions were always revealed on their face, and it was written like a love letter over his.

His patient silence makes you want to fill it with some type of conversation due to the uncomfortableness with your sudden vulnerability. Skittishly, you swallow in an attempt to coat your dry throat. “But I haven’t got much further than that. I know that I’m attracted to you. I mean, fuck, you saw the video, right? I probably didn’t even need the bullet–what did I just say? That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I don’t want this to just be an attraction because I don’t think I could handle that. That felt good to say. I think I’ve said “say” too much and now it sounds weird…”

“I feel that way too,” he replies, the smallest curve of his lip breaking the straight line. He adores the way you rant when you're nervous, it is now a new thing he is adding to his list. He loves making you nervous because you give him little details about yourself. “Thank you for finally getting the balls to tell me. Took you long enough.”

You didn’t expect him to say that. You didn’t practice that in the shower! “Me?! You were the one who was avoiding me!” You were shouting, but it was all fun now. A laugh followed as a bright smile crept on your face. Something like a weight felt lifted off your shoulders, off your chest.

“But who said something first?”

“You said you liked my breasts and that you get jealous easily. Doesn’t seem like you were confessing any feelings,” You jokingly roll your eyes as he scoots closer to you.

“Why would I get jealous if I didn’t like ya? Thought I made tha’ obvious.”

“Could have been more. Then we could have avoided this all together.”

“You probably would’ve just stood there with y’mouth open.”

Your mouth indeed falls open as he laughs, his comment causing you to gasp in joking offense. You take that moment to punch his shoulder, but his hand catches your wrist during the movement. Your laughs are halted when you both realize how close you are; your thighs were touching and his face was only a few inches from yours. The whiff of his scent gave you flashbacks to last night when he caught you and you were pressed perfectly against his toned chest. Thinking of his chest made you remember the videos you saw online and how addicting they were to watch, especially after you found out it actually was Harry. Now, you know how porn addicts come to be.

Unintentionally, you lick your lips while looking at his. You don’t miss the way he does the same, glaring at your lips like he’s starving and their his last meal. Your lips have haunted him ever since your first day; painted in red and screaming fierce. The way you smiled was mesmerizing to Harry, but you could say the same about Harry’s effortless charm. It’s been too long dreaming and imagining your lips on his own. Now, with everything out in the open–besides the whole porn star thing, which is for another time–maybe he can finally kiss those lips. Kiss them so well that he ruins any other man for you in the bar, in school, in porn, in life. Staring at your lips made Harry think crazy things. He can’t even imagine the filth his brain will conjure if he sees your naked body in real life.

He’s getting too ahead of himself.

“You smell good,” You whispered, forcing yourself to break the pressing tension. You two were slowly inching towards each other, so he could feel your words float over his own lips like a ghost. He hums at the feeling and the compliment. “Like a forest.”

“How long are we gonna sit like this until I can kiss ya?” The statement made your cheeks blaze with fire and your stomach tumble.

Clearly you were both done beating around the bush.

“I was waiting for you to ask! What if you didn’t want to? You know how important consent is too–”

But Harry doesn’t wait for you to stop your incessant rant. He smashes his lips to yours like he’s been dying to all this time. Your lips mush together, creating a warm, gooey feeling inside of your stomach. Harry releases your wrist and slides his hands down to your waist and carries you over to his lap. You gently bite down on his bottom lip seductively, causing him to groan against you. His rough hands pinch the skin of your hips, making you squeak in his mouth. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in, exploring your mouth like its new land on earth.

It’s been so long for you, you can barely remember the last time you’ve been kissed. But you know for damn sure it was never like this. It was never this fiery, this passionate, this wanted, this needed. Kissing Harry was like drinking water after being dehydrated; so obsessively satisfying, you can’t get enough. Until you drink too much and then your stomach hurts, but you doubt that will happen.

Harry can feel himself growing impressively hard underneath you. Even with you above him fully clothed has his body and mind going haywire. He’s not sure how far this is going to go, but he’s also not sure how long he’s going to last. Shit, if you even palm his bulge he might come.

And you thought he didn’t want this.

Your hands around his neck slide their way down his chest as his grip on your hips gets tighter. He pushes you closer, making you arch your back until your breasts are pressing against his chest. The abrupt movement causes the kiss to break, a breathless gasp eliciting from your swollen mouth.

“Jesus,” Harry huffs out.

“What?”

Harry ignores your question. “What do y’want?”

“You…? I thought I made that pretty clear–”

“Don’t be a smart mouth. Or I’ll put it to good use,” His threat sends a tingle straight to your core, which was covered by your soaking underwear. Just the idea of him forcing you on the floor to take his cock in your throat was erotic enough for you to get off of. Actually doing it might make you come on the spot. “What, you like that?”

“What if I do?”

“Then I can make it happen, baby.”

“But what if I want something else more?”

“Say the words.”

You hesitated. As a porn star, you’re pretty good with dirty talk. In the past, you have had no problem whispering sweet, seductive words. But Harry has your tongue tied, brain mushy, and body gooey.

“I want you inside of me.” You were straight-forward. Honest. After this whole ordeal with you two, you figured you both deserved some relief.

“I’ve been waiting too fuckin’ long for those words.”

Without wasting another minute, Harry lifts both you and himself off the couch. You make a little squeal sound before grabbing on tight to him so you don’t fall. When you somehow get to his bedroom, you’re gently tossed on his bed with a smile hanging from your lips. Harry climbs over you and immediately tugs the hem of your shirt.

“Please take it off.”

You did not need to tell him twice.

Harry did just as you asked as quickly as possible because you two were both getting a bit desperate. Like before, Harry loves edging and teasing and being in control. And one day, he’s going to do it all with you. But right now, he just needs to be inside of you, as selfish as it sounds.

Once he flips your shirt off, you’re brisk to clip off your bra. Goosebumps pimple along your skin in anticipation of what’s to come as Harry’s eyes flit over your body. He swallows harshly, mind swimming in a thousand thoughts that were all related to you. His searing gaze only makes you more flushed with heat, elbows sinking into the mattress while you wait for him to do something. You push yourself up and tug the end of his T-shirt.

“Well, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Cause you’re really here.”

“That is so sweet, but please, fuck me first. I need it.” Maybe his searing gaze also gave you a newfound confidence that allowed you to say what was actually on your mind. His intense stare made you feel powerful. Like you were in control.

“Jesus Christ, we have to fix that mouth,” he growls as you slide off his shirt over his head while he kneels on the edge of the bed. You don’t even get another word in before he’s crashing his lips back onto yours in another heated kiss.

It’s not much different from the first one–maybe a little more sloppy because you’re both getting needy. Both your mouths are sloshed together with sparks tingling on your tongues. Those sparks are igniting flames within your souls, making the stress and yearning worth it. Everything felt worth it when you two were this close together.

With the same passion, Harry forces himself away from your mouth and down your neck. He’s not gentle with his teeth, nibbling with each peck of your skin he passes. Each nick injects excitement through your veins, turning you on more than you would like to admit. You already know that there will be little marks because your skin is so sensitive, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You actually are endeared by a bunch of little marks rather than a few huge ones. Maybe you can pass the miniature hickies off as freckles…

When Harry gets to your breasts, he wants to stop and stare. Take a few long minutes to just encompass the beauty that is in front of him. But he assumes you don’t want to be ogled anymore, since he was standing still and gazing at you like a teenage girl taking a picture of a pink sunset. So, instead, his lips enclose around your nipple. His tongue glides around it, feeling its pointiness peak until he is satisfied with the sounds coming from your lewd mouth. He does the same to the other side until you’re panting and your heart has turned erratic.

His pink lips trail down your torso, marking each inch of skin with a bit of saliva and a warm kiss. His fingers traced your shape, gently scratching at your sides until you were practically squirming in his touch. You’ve never been this wet in your life and it was driving you insane. Harry was driving you insane.

“So soft, Honey,” he coos when he reaches the waistline of your pants. You help him remove the clothing, so you’re not wasting anymore time because it’s blatantly obvious you’re both desperate as hell. His compliment made your skin tingle and your spine shiver. That nickname would be the death of you, you were sure of it. He made you feel all hot and dizzy but also made you gooey and cared for. It was an intense combination of emotions that you definitely needed to sort out. But after you get his cock inside of you.

Yeah. You could settle for that.

Harry now had a full view of your underwear, which was completely soaked through. But at this point, you’re not even embarrassed as much as you are needy. Hell, you’re even spreading your legs wider for him so he has quicker access to you. Yeah. It was that bad.

“Look at you all wet and drippy,” Harry smirks as he hooks his fingers in your panties. He surprises you by pulling them up, the fabric being consumed by your pussy lips. “Such a pretty cunt. Never even seen you this wet on a video. I must be special.”

“It’s all for you, Harry. Or should I say Daddy?” Now, you were smirking. You were only teasing, but at the same time, you were testing the waters. If Harry’s username used the title, you had an inkling that he had some type of kink towards it, right?

With a subtle grunt, he yanks your legs closer to him and widens them even further apart. He doesn’t even hesitate to rip your panties in half and discard the now wasted fabric.

“Harry!” You yelled, shocked at how quickly bare you are. And that he just shredded your underwear. But it was also kind of hot. Like very hot. He slapped the inside of your thigh as a warning, a stinging zip coursing straight to your core.

“No more Harry for you. Since y’want to be such a smart mouth, when you speak, y’better say Daddy.”

Before you know it, his head is lowering towards your cunt. His lips latch onto your clit similarly to your nipple and suck. You let out a gasping moan, fingers instantly clawing at the sheets of his bed. His tongue delves into your folds and warmly slips into you like you wished his cock would. But you were currently in heaven with the heat of his mouth devouring you like his last meal on Earth.

The way his large hands gripped and man-handled your thighs was enough to leave bruising. But you wanted the bruising. You wanted to feel the pain and soreness of this tomorrow just in case it never happens again. You’re not sure what all of this is going to mean for you guys, but you don’t think this will be the end. No, you think it’s going to be the beginning.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each lick and slurp. Your tailbone was beginning to ache from arching your back to the absolute max. Once that all-too familiar feeling was rushing towards you like a train, Harry’s mouth only got quicker. He even started spitting on your cunt and watched the juices mix together, and that only made your insides clench at the lewdness of it all. Harry was a dirty, dirty man. You knew he was only showing bits and pieces of himself. You wanted to unravel it all and learn more about him and what he liked. But maybe that was for another time…

Without realizing it, your hands were sewn in his brown curls, forcing his head to remain on your clit until you reached your high. Harry’s groans were muffled into vibrations as you tugged, getting more pleasure through them. Your hips were moving in circular motions, but Harry pressed you down with his forearm to keep you flat and still.

“Har–” He pinched your ass, causing you to shriek and correct yourself, “Daddy, please, I’m so close. I’m right there.”

You rarely begged. On your livestreams and videos, you were confident and sexy and seducing because that’s what your audience liked. It’s what you’ve learned and grown to do. You weren’t used to needing something from someone else so fucking bad that you were pleading for them to make you satisfied. Harry’s mouth was currently your kryptonite because you would do anything for him to get you to the finish line.

He suckled on your clit for a few long seconds before you were coming in his mouth. Chants of his title were echoing loudly in his room that the neighbors probably thought you were dying. You were, just in a different way. Harry was gladly swallowing all your juices , his chin sloppy with all them. When it all got too much, you tried to push him away, but he didn’t move until he was completely done.

“Taste so sweet. Just like honey.”

He doesn’t fail to bring more heat onto your skin, even after just having his mouth on you. Something about the way he compliments you and manages to incorporate the word honey will always get you. He seems to read you so easily, and no one’s ever done that before.

“Knew from the video that you’d taste amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t believe you sent me that video by the way.”

“What? Why?”

“What if it wasn’t me?”

“It’s my job, Harry.”

“So? You were moanin’ my name. That means it’s for me. You’re for me.” The staring that was occurring between you quickly ended as your eyes flitted away from him. You made sure to look anywhere else but him as you heard the sound of his pants falling. Sometimes, Harry could be pretty blunt in the way he claimed you, but at the same time very guarded. He’s saying that you’re his, but you two haven’t even discussed things that far yet.

“Says who?”

“Says me. Right now,” Harry practically growls as he climbs over your body again, his insane physique hovering over you. You never thought you would actually see the day that Harry–the charming, tattooed, sexy man you worked with–was on top of you. You’ve only ever envisioned him in your wet dreams doing the most sinful things known. God wouldn’t be able to forgive the sins you’ve conjured in your brain.

You don’t even get to retort because you’re only thinking about his cock. You had felt his impressive bulge on the couch and assumed he had been rocking himself into the bed while eating you out. As he kissed your neck again, you would feel his hardness poking at you greedily, but you haven’t even looked at it yet. It was probably just as pretty as it was in all his videos.

He extends himself towards his night stand while you’re caught in your thoughts, snatching a condom. You’re glad he didn’t ask to go bare like most guys do. But “most guys” to you are a bunch of college losers who just want to get their dick wet and don’t actually care about the consequences. If you were to get pregnant, they probably wouldn’t even blink an eye before leaving. But you knew Harry wasn’t like that. No, he was the type to think things through and actually be mature about things. Besides the fact that he avoided you…but it’s not like you were very mature about it either. Maybe the age distance between you and Harry was something that you needed. The college boys just weren’t doing it for you.

It’s strange how so many thoughts can sprout from a simple as Harry grabbing a condom. The bare fucking minimum.

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice was full of concern as his thick thumb rubbed over your warm cheek. You hadn’t even realized how close he had gotten since he had stretched over towards the drawer and you didn’t know that he’d already put the condom on. So, again, you missed the sight of his huge, God-like dick in-person. Despite all of that, a ping of appreciation hit you right in the heart at Harry’s attention to detail because you know that those college boys wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing.

“Nothing, I–”

“Don’t lie, Honey. Do y’still want this? We don’t have to,” he reassured, eyes sparking with something that was different from the hidden lust. His voice could be rough and firm, but it could also be soothing and sweet. He had these sides to him that he would encompass. Not necessarily switch like a light but transition into smoothly.

“Harry, I’m fine. I promise. This is the only thing I want right now,” You rested your hand on top of his on your cheek. At that moment, everything felt a little more intimate. A little more love-like. The idea of sex turning into “love-making” currently terrified you, but the racing of your heart wasn’t from fear. No, it felt like it was exciting and anxious but in the best way. “Actually, I would be not so fine if you didn’t put your dick in me.”

“You have such a dirty mouth when you’re blunt, Honey,” Harry smoothes his hand down your body and finds your clit again, rubbing gentle circles over the throbbing nerves. Even though you just came only minutes prior, you continued to get wet with every second you were waiting for him. The sight of his body with all those beautiful designs was enough to get you ready for another. He didn’t even have to work you up.

“Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I’m hearin’ more attitude than screams of m’name. Let’s change that.”

With a devilish smirk, Harry pushes himself close to you and levels into you. His cock enters you slowly but fully as your lungs forget to breathe. Realizing this, you breathe before Harry can scold you about it. His dick was nearly all in because you could feel the weight of his thighs hovering over you deliciously along with the rest of his tattooed body.

When Harry hears and sees you take a deep breath, he pulls out just to push back in again. You elicit a shaky moan as Harry groans gravelly near your chest.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry moans louder into the air as his thrusts become harder, more direct. With just those few thrusts, he already knows exactly where your weakness is and makes it his life goal to hit it every single time.

Harry’s hips move rapidly, pinning your body to the bed as you wiggle underneath him. His muscles are contracting against the pressure of each insane plunge into you while your insides are being reassorted. His size makes it difficult to move, difficult to breathe, yet you’re loving it immensely.

Staring at his arms, you don’t even think about grabbing one of his arms that’s holding him up and laying it on your neck. One of Harry’s furrowed eyebrows lifts up in surprise before that familiar smirk is plastered right back onto his smug face.

“Fuckin’ filthy. I knew you were. What else are y’hiding from me?” Harry’s hand wraps around your neck just as you silently asked. As his fingers block your air flow just enough to make you a little fuzzy, your cunt clenched around his cock. Besides your moans and groans and whimpers, the sound of skin to skin is bouncing across the bedroom like your own personal song. Your anthem. When he releases, the blood flow returns, but he keeps his hand there. “C’mon, Y/N, tell me. What other kinks do you have?”

“I know y’like it rough. Don’t like it when Daddy goes too easy on ya. Do you like to be spanked too? Hmm? Slapped and bitten? Like to have marks all over you so everyone can see?” His brutal thrusts never stop, not even when his breath becomes a little lost. He’s slamming into you like he’s trying to make a dent in your organs, and quite frankly, he just might if he keeps going at the rate he is. But you don’t seem to care too much at the moment. “Do you like people watching? Is that why you post videos of our pretty, little cunt all over the internet? So people can watch you?”

“I don’t hear you,” his voice, raspy and sexy, whispered in a low-threat type of way as his hand rubs over the pulse of your neck temptingly again.

“I g-guess I do like people watching me…” Your voice was breathless as your mind became foggy. Harry did have a way of doing that to you, especially with his hand on your now strained neck. “L-Like when you watch me.”

“‘Course you do. That’s ‘cause you’re dirty. Just like me.” If it was possible, he rocks into you more barbarically until your legs are shaking. You can feel the muscles in your thighs start to spasm, urging to close as you chase your inevitable high.

“Daddy, God, you’re so big. So, so big,” You whined helplessly into the sex-filled air. Your hairs were scratching, tugging, pulling, clawing at everything at the same time, trying to manage all the intense pleasure that was coursing through your body. It was almost too much to handle. Harry seemed to know how to push your limits without killing you, and you’ve craved that feeling for so long. “L-Love your cock. Oh my God!”

“Poor baby. I’ve gotten you all cock drunk; you can’t think of anything else besides m’cock. ‘S that good, huh?” A choppy chuckle elicits from his mouth and wavers over to your ear. Your chest was pressing into his as your core clutched with the sense of near-orgasm. “Gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” You were a mumbled, grumbled mess. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t talk straight. Harry was impairing all of your abilities with his dirty talk and his magical dick.

No, seriously. Was it like a thick magic wand or something?

Harry squeezes on your neck a couple times, lightly, just to push you right over the edge. Harry seemed to be a quick learner when it came to your body because you were instantly coming then. As Harry felt you orgasm for the second time tonight, he finally let go of his own. When you were coming around his tongue at the beginning of this all, he was having a hard time trying to not come in his own pants. He may have been stupid last night and selfish earlier, but he wasn’t going to do it again. He was going to make up for being a selfish prick and show you how he actually treats a woman. Because you deserve to be treated with nothing less than the best.

After you’re both settled, Harry regretfully slips out of you. Clearly, you felt the same way because you whined as he removed himself. After being inside of you and passing through the gates of heaven, why would Harry want to leave? But even though Harry wants to be as close to you as possible by simply cockwarming all day, he doesn’t want to rush this. It’s new, even if you guys have been friends for some time.

Plucking off the condom and knotting it, Harry waltzes towards his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. The soft smile on your face when he returns highlights how grateful you are for his aftercare as he gently wipes up the mess both of you helped create.

“How do you feel?” Harry genuinely asks before placing the towel at the foot of his bed. He briskly moves to his dresser to pick out a new pair of boxers.

“I’m sorry if this offends you, but you have a great ass,” You bluntly state, completely avoiding his question. “But I’m okay.”

Harry laughs as he slips on the clothing. “Just okay? No pain?”

“Yeah. If okay translates to “my vagina is broken for every man ever and both my legs are going to hate me tomorrow”,” You smile innocently as Harry grabs two shirts. He chucks one at you, smiling goofily. It hits you in the face with a laugh before you slip it over your head.

“Good.”

“Good? I might have to take a week off work to heal from the damages.”

“Guess you’ll just have to stay in my bed.”

You roll your eyes before pushing yourself off his bed, contradicting his statement.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to my real boyfriend’s house,” You roll your eyes again facetiously and leave his room, rounding the same corner that he did before yelling, “Bathroom!”

When you return, you plop yourself on Harry’s bed like it was normal. It was comfortable. It felt right. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t forced. That was the good thing about two friends getting together. After sex, or work, or school, or just a bad day, or even a good day, they could always just talk. As you sat on Harry’s bed, it was easy to joke and make conversation while still feeling that subtle spark of electricity in between you two. That spark was the difference between platonic and romantic.

“We should watch a movie,” You suggested.

“Where should we look? PornHub?” His dry humor made you laugh as you cozied up in his bed. He didn’t hesitate to pull you close and you liked that. Maybe a little too much for your own good. Your heart was thumping in a way that was melting away the frozen walls around it. It made you happy that something in your life finally seemed to be working out.

“Maybe start with Netflix,” You laid your head on his shoulder as the ironic logo appeared on his TV. “I, um.”

“What?” Harry peeked down at you.

“I think I like this a lot,” Harry smiles at you. He could tell from the beginning that it was hard for you to say things like that to him. That’s why it made him feel like such an asshole for storming out the other night. You needed time to process everything he had just told you, but he was too nervous for your rejection, so he left. Even though he’s six years older than you and may seem more mature, everyone makes stupid and selfish mistakes.

“Well, I hope so, Honey, ‘cause I do too,” Even those simple words have the ability to warm and satisfy your scared, little heart.

“But I’m still not taking your money.”

–

i hope you all liked these two :))

taglist:

@whoreonmondays @armystay89 @meighasfangirldiary @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach | @kathb59 @gem1712 @ppleasingg @onlyangle1 @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @storyschanging

crossed out= not able to tag

[disasterofastory]

Wifey duties (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Wifey duties Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Warnings: Reader is drunk

Summer: You go home to your husband after a night out with the ladies.

Benedict can hear your approach even before you appear at the entrance of your shared bedroom. His eyes are on the door. The thick book he read a few minutes ago is long forgotten on his lap. Amusement spreads across his chest when he hears you walking against a small table in the hallway. His shoulders shake with laughter. "Damn it," you grunt. Something falls off the table. "Shit." "Y/N?" He asks a bit louder so you can hear him. "Are you okay?" You don't answer immediately, but your head soon peeks out from behind the wall. You seem surprised.

And drunk.

There is a hazy glint in your eyes, and your hair is a mess from adjusting it so often through the night. A few curls hang in front of your face. "I'm fine," you reply. It almost sounds like a question. "Are you sure?" He asks, grinning. "Do you need my help?" After looking back at the table one last time, you make your way into the room with a soft scoff. "I'm fine. Thank you." "Okay."

Oh, he is so ready for the show.

He watches you in silence the whole time while you take off your clothes. Your dress pools around your legs, and Benedict is afraid you will break your arms as you untie the corset on your back. He isn't even sure if you should be able to do that. Your movements are too confident in contrast to how clumsy you are. Quiet groans and cussings leave your lips every now and again as you walk back and forth in the room. Soon, your hair is free from pins, and your face is clean from makeup. A relieved sigh escapes your chest as you put down the brush on the table, but when you turn around, your eyes widen at the sight of your husband. "Benedict!" You grin when you move on from your surprise. "Hey!" "Hey, my love," he laughs. "Do you want to come to bed?"

He doesn't have to ask twice. You land on the soft sheets with another grunt, and he has to help you adjust the blanket on you. His book falls to the ground, and none of you move to pick it up. Your husband's hands are too busy tucking you in until you are cocooned into the warmth that smells like him. "So, how was your night?" He asks after a few minutes. His long fingers caress the line of your jaw. He plays with your hair behind your ear. "Good," you reply. "Lady Danbury makes great drinks." "I'm sure," he hums, smiling. "How much did you drink?" "It was my duty as your wife," you state, and he laughs. "Was it?" "Yes," you nod confidently. "And I'm good with cards. I win some money." Your husband's shocked laugh can be heard all around the house. "What?" "Yes, and I boasted about how great my husband is." "In front of my mother?" He doesn't even know if he should laugh or cry. Your eyes widen, and you look around the room as if somebody could hear you. "Not the naughty bits," you whisper loudly. Then and there, Benedict is sure he never saw anyone as sweet as you. "And talking about the naughty bits…" Before your husband knows it, you are already on top of him. Your lips are pulled into a sultry smile. Your hair frames your heated cheeks. "I have other wifey duties, I believe." "Y/N, I don't think-" You frown. "Are you really going to reject your wife, Benedict Bridgerton?" The man frowns too. "What am I? A fool?"

The only thing that can stop your laugh is Benedict's lips on yours.

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men and No Nut November - Preferences

Simon Riley, Johnny MacTavish, John Price, Kyle Garrick, König, Maxim Bale, Alejandro Vargas x Reader

Warnings: smut

Summary: In which both of you participate in the challenge. 

A/N: Yes, I know November is over but this was a request so here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!

Simon Riley

You suggested the idea of having no sex or any kind of act for a month. You two have been at it pretty much every day, sometimes many times during the day, so it came as the perfect idea.

You told him that it would make him want you more and vice versa. 

What you forgot is that Simon could be very patient. 

So much so, that he even said "Only a month?" before he shrugged and moved on.

What none of you expected is that the sexual tension and frustration would be too much to bear.

On day 27, he would be without a shirt and you would physically shake.

On day 28, you would wear a pair of jeans that just makes your ass look amazing, making him take a cold shower immediately.

On day 30, both of you had enough and you couldn't take it anymore.

To say you two destroyed each other's clothes would be a nice thing to say.

He never pounded you as hard as he did on that day. He never came as hard or as much as he did on that day. 

Johnny MacTavish

It was actually his idea, he heard from Simon that he and his wife were doing this challenge and Johnny wanted to try it out. 

You agreed, you really thought both of you had enough self-restraint to survive.

And in the beginning, it was okay. It seemed like you were doing good.

Until you weren't.

By the end of the month, you really wanted to at least take care of the 'problem' yourself.

But you couldn't.

As for Johnny, he was surprisingly well. He distracted himself and did many things around the house.

He even finished the porch that he started months before. He cleaned the garden and even began to build a new area in the garden for your dogs.

The fact that you didn't have sex, resulted in a very clean house.

But you both made it, and once the month ended, you two were at it again. 

The garden for the dogs? Forgotten.

But at least you both very finally satisfied again.

Kyle Garrick

When you suggested the idea, he actually had something similar in mind. So, you both agreed to go along with it.

And surprisingly, you both did amazingly well.

You two went out on many cute dates, never once making any sexual remarks.

It was easy, but it didn't mean you didn't miss it.

Kyle counted the last couple of days as if it was Christmas.

John Price

John would be up for the idea. But he would fail on the same day.

Seeing you preparing dinner, you happened to bend over to pick up something, and it was over. 

He had you bent over the table in a second.

Maxim Bale

It took you a solid 5 minutes to explain the entire thing. He didn't understand why you would want to do this, but when you explained that it could be exciting, he was down for it.

It was a long month for Maxim.

He was never a sex-crazed person but he did like his sex in the morning, so when you reminded him that you would rather not, he was a little offended. 

Just a little.

The month was a struggle more for you than him.

He could easily occupy himself by doing something with his car.

And there you were, watching him fix his car, covered in sweat, muscles on full display.

As soon as the month was over, you were all over him.

Alejandro Vargas

He would laugh when you tell him the idea. 

Him? Surviving a month without sex or anything?

Impossible.

He knew it, you knew it.

But if you insist, he will try his best.

2 days he would last.

Completely failing the entire challenge. 

But who could blame him?

He loved you and your body.

And just as he said: "How did you expect me to live without this perfect pussy tightening around me?"

König

In the beginning of your relationship, he never instigated sex.

It was always you making the first move.

But as he got more and more comfortable with you, he started to come out of his shell.

It got to a point where he had to stop himself.

So, a challenge like this would excite him. He wanted to see how long he would last.

But let's be fair, he would struggle.

Because once you find the person you love the most, the one you feel so good around you can finally be yourself. And then you put yourself through a challenge like this.... it is torture. 

Yet, somehow he would still pull through, although he is sure his balls would hurt more and more with each passing day.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[seneon]

IN MEMORY, YOU LIVE ──── ghost¡touya × fem¡reader.

about. in which, the dead lives by the memories of the living, and you're here to remember his soul. touya is deceased soldier from WWII. reader is a christian who prays. this is a bittersweet romance with religious themes, japanese culture, and lots of dialogues. touya might be ooc in some parts. inspired by coco and a whisker away. wc of 3100+

notes. in commemoration of all souls day, in which i celebrate. honestly i wrote this after remembering a sunday school class i had about purgatory and prayers LMAO. so it's kinda self indulgent. i miss my grandfather dawg.

THE SUN KISSED YOUR SKIN as your eyes are shielded shut from the bright sunlight. with your palms pressed against each other and your thumbs making a small cross, prayers ran down your tongue in a quiet voice.

time isn't of essence. it never was, especially when you spend your time praying. forget about time whenever you pray, it was never important. they could drag out to minutes and to hours and you would forget all about time as if it never existed in the first place.

with your knee that started to numb after having kneeled on one cold pavement for so long, you finally moved to sit, your eyes slowly opening to land on the tomb laid out right in front of you.

it's an unknown tomb, belonging to a soul whose history or family you do not know of. there's only a name, dates, and a simple insignia of the military carved onto the stone of the tomb.

touya todoroki, the name bearer of this tomb.

this disheveled tomb is covered in nothing but mere grass and dirt that stains it dirty. you tried your best to clean it up. it seems it's been here for a few decades and no one in his lineage exists to care for it anymore.

what a bittersweet ending. a soldier of the military army decades ago is left to rot in his grave and to have his existence wiped off from the face of the earth. not even an image of him continues to live on in this world.

touya todoroki must be sad to be forgotten.

“. . . . all this i ask through Christ my Lord, amen,” you gave the grave a little bow before signing a cross to end the prayer. then for the rest of the morning up until the twelfth hour, you sit in silence to gaze upon the tomb of this forgotten man, soft strings of words flows out.

heaven knows why you are so attached to this specific tomb. you remembered it as clear as day— how you happen to be walking by in boredom after praying to your deceased ancestors for all souls day. your feet carried you to the path back home, but it felt as if your soul was being pulled by the strings of the tomb bearer.

curiousity strikes you in that moment, like a spear that was driven through your chest to keep you steady. this man— touya todoroki, his tomb and the area is so unkempt you knew it was untouched for decades. he must've lost all ties with his family.

it's the fourteenth hour now. you've eaten your fair share while absentmindedly staring at the grave of the unknown. to not come across as rude to the dead, you left a fresh box of soba noodles and a clean set of chopsticks beside the candles which had been melted over the course of a few hours.

“i bid you good-bye now, mr touya todoroki,” you softly said and stood up to brush the cemetery dirt off your clothes. with one last glance that promises the dead that you will return for the next visit, you turned your feet away.

yet you could not even blink. not even a second passed. it felt as if the speed of light did not exist at that moment. your footsteps walked into a world that did not exist before up until a few milliseconds ago.

your heart fell from a cliff into a pit of fear as you are now greeted with a rather mountainous view. fogs and mists veil the atmosphere, along with a single torii gate in sight as your eyes travel everywhere but behind you.

all because you felt a presence right where your blind spot is. a presence so heavy that you felt eyes burning into your clothes to carve your bare skin with piercing eyes underneath with its gaze.

“leaving so soon?” a deep voice echoes through your ears as you slowly turn your head at where you heard the voice coming from. your throat is dry as your sights are landed on a man sitting on the tomb of touya todoroki, the deceased soldier who has no more place in this world.

“g-get off there,” you choked out, fingers curling to compress any visible fear that might crawl up to twitch at your nerves.

the man simply tilts his head at your words. he's so attractive, handsome. your very first few thoughts about this mysterious man. white hair, scars that gnaws deep into his skin, that turquoise eyes.

if anything, this man is the epitome of magazine beauty. his choice of clothing is odd though, who still wears army clothing these days?

“and why should i get off?”

“because that grave belongs to somebody.”

a chuckle escapes from that man's lips as he leaned his arms on his knees, eyes digging his existence into your presence. “i am that somebody. this is my grave. don't you see that? you talk to me all the time when you come to this shitty graveyard.”

“you're ly—”

“you just prayed for my forgotten soul, sat down, and stared to me for at least two hours. what lie are you speaking of?”

your silence hugs you tight as his words slowly sinks into your mind, finding solace in your soul as you tilted your own head and let out a small “oh.”

“mr touya todoroki? why are you visible, and speaking to me now?”

curiousity clearly reeks in your question and tone as the said man stood up from his tomb, his figure enveloping you as if you are nothing but a mere rat when a cat is chasing your tail.

“because… sweet praying girl, you're either dead, or in the process of dying.”

where's the sun when you need it to give you a sweet, warm hug? where's the brightness of the day that kisses your skin so gently? where is the light of day in this foggy, misty area?

when you looked behind touya, only his grave seemed to exist in this cold, mountainous place. the same old grave that you always sit or squat in front of to offer up the humblest of prayers. you don't even know this soul, yet you still pray for his soul to be free and for God's mercy to be poured upon touya.

now the utter reality is slowly being punctured into your mind. it felt like rocks being thrown at your head, then boulders slowly falling down the top of the mountain to crush your skull as reality sets in.

“walk with me as i brief you about the land of the dead. well at least, this land of the dead belongs to the eastern asians. explains why it's all fogs and mists and mountains,” touya walked ahead of you, his hand moving to wear his military cap, covering his beautiful white hair.

you could recognise that cap anywhere. it's the pillar of a japanese soldier's uniform. the star in the middle is all you needed to know that this man is of honour. or at least, honourable in some ways.

“when you say i’m either dead or dying, how do i know of it? what does that even mean?” your feet carried you to walk beside touya.

“if you're dead, you'd know what impacted you at the last second before you wake up here. when you're dying, you're connected to the dead. heavily connected.”

the dead man walks through a forest. he seems to know so much of this place, having spent probably decades in this afterlife. his presence is quite strong, you can feel him as if he were a real, living being. touya seems to read your mind with your little analysis.

“your prayers have brought me back,” touya said and held up a falling tree branch, ushering you to walk ahead before he went after you and dropped his hands.

“how? also, i don't think i have been impacted. i simply took a step away from your grave and suddenly i’m met with this .. mysteriously new place.”

the man proceeds his journey ahead, leading you to wherever he desires as you follow behind, millions of questions swarming your mind.

“when you die, you live again in the afterlife with the memories of you back in the living world. if nobody remembers you, you disappear for some shitty reason. and why you are here? well i don't know. figure it out yourself as you spend the rest of your day here.”

touya's chin gestured towards the clearing of view from the forest. it's now set into a view of a busy village. it's still afternoon, you supposed, since the day is still bright and just a tad bit warmer now than the mountain.

as rural as it can get, everyone who exists in this moment seemed to wear clothing throughout history, some even foreign to you.

there's a descending staircase that seemed to stretch on forever. yet touya still walks down anyways, expecting you to trail behind him as he leads you into this village that has buildings and homes stacked up everywhere.

there's a tree, similar to yggdrasil of the norse, the tree of life. which is connected to the heavens and earth. this tree, however, seems to provide shelter for every soul wandering into the land of the dead.

“it's like… a super duper big treehouse…” you murmured under your breath, taking in the sight of this worldly view as you descended the staircase and slowly presented yourself to the afterlife.

“it's where the dead people live. unlike the mexican afterlife which has sprinting colours and music and all the cultural stuff, we have a rather calming afterlife. just like how every eastern asians prefers it.”

after what felt like over a decade of descending, your footsteps came to a halt. first step onto the ground, and the sky is all dark with warm lights that emitted the atmosphere. it was breathtaking. that was all it meant to you and all you could say in this moment. your eyes widened in awe, lips curving upwards in a huge smile.

at first, you expected to be greeted with the agonising pain of tiredness from descending, but there was only peace and tranquility. this scenery that brought you all kinds of warmth on the inside had sucked in any negativity you were feeling— both physically and mentally.

“dead people things,” touya reminded you as he marched forward to immediately blend into the crowd of dead souls and busy streets. “mr touya, wait!”

“catch up, praying girl. or i’ll lose you easily,” he glanced back, and his words went straight to your heart. they're meant to mean that he'll lose you easily in the crowd and this busy afterlife, but to you it sounded more personal. like when you were leaving his grave just a moment ago but ended up here.

you apologised and quickly went to his side to hold his sleeves so your distance wouldn't be separated again. touya's traditional, you assumed, since he's not the type to let girls hang on his sleeves.

he must be quite reserved and stoic back in history, considering the way he tugged you off his sleeves to hold your hands in a loose grip instead. “don't let go,” he said as you nodded in compliance, squeezing his hands a little tighter as touya led you through the bustling streets.

the two of you walked, walked, and walked for what seemed like forever in this solace of a giant tree until he stopped in front of the foot of the giant tree. you paused to admire the size for a moment, the roots spreading down into the earth and possibly even touching the opening of hell.

touya walked, and you followed, approaching the edge of a big lake that surrounded the tree as if to protect it. much to your displeasure, he unhooked his hands from you, leaning down to look at his reflection at the surface of the lake. you followed him, looking at your own reflection, before stealing a glance at his reflection.

such a reflection that speaks of sorrow and silent suffering. it tugs at your heartstrings how a soul could look so sad.

“sit down,” touya says, and you obey to sit with him on the grass, gazes still locked onto yourselves in the water.

“this is the lake of prayers. it's where every prayer ever said to a soul is stored,” he explains. “each soul has a colour assigned to you. it wraps around the prayers like a glowing ball of light.”

“what is your colour, then?”

touya leans forward to dip his fingers into the waters. very quickly, a small amount of ball-like glows of turquoise surfaced from the bottom to surround his fingers, gently dancing in the water. he then caught a glow and allowed the ball-like shape to melt in his palms.

words fell onto his palm, overflowing onto the grass as your voice filled both your ears, causing your eyes to slightly widen.

“it's my voice..” you trailed off and touched the grass where your prayers have spilled onto.

“yes. your voice. your prayers,” he allows the ball to fully melt before he reaches into the waters to take out a few more, all of them melting onto the grass. and all of them echo the faint sound of your voice. down until the last glow.

“they're all your prayers,” turquoise eyes attempt to seek comfort in your own eyes as you look at the todoroki. “you're the only living being that prayed for me,” touya's voice drops to a whisper and you frown at his words.

lonely soldier whom no other living being prayed for, touya todoroki. his existence is only relevant after so long where you randomly stumbled upon his disheveled grave.

“but that's— that's not fair,” your reply is soft, and touya finds that comforting. “why, mr touya? this is awfully sad.”

“it isn't when you serve in the military and die in war. all you get is a name on your tombstone. they won't even retrieve your body from the battlefield.”

you watched as the man closes his fist after all the words have melted and he dips his whole hand into the waters to wash off the words.

“as i said before, i was about to fade away in forgotten memories, but you, sweet praying girl. you brought me back here.”

there's an unexplainable feeling that starts to swell deep inside your heart at this man's words. he's a random soul you just happen to keep praying for when you pass by his grave. it looked like nobody prays for him, so you took up the simple act of doing so.

but to hear as he utters such words out from his mouth, it makes you want to clench at your heart and squeeze it until it explodes.

“this isn't heaven or hell, right?” your question makes touya nod. “this is purgatory. the waiting room that lies between heaven and hell. this is where all prayers are heard, and where all sins and judgements are accessed. this is the garden for sinners.”

“how long have you been here?”

“longer than i could count.”

his hands are retrieved from the waters as he flicks them dry, shifting just a bit so he sits next to you with his gaze on the tree. “its not very nice to be forgotten. especially if you're the last one standing on the battlefield before being betrayed by your own army.”

you glanced at him. “betrayed by your own army…?”

“i’m a colonel, serving as the leader of my regiment. touya todoroki, as you know. to lead my regiment onto the battlefield and to be the last man standing before the other colonels strikes you down is hell. these scars all over me will always be a painful memory. i hate them.”

just a few minutes with touya was all it took to know all about him and his life. what a truly sorrowful story his life has led him on. the more you listen, the more your heart twists with sympathy.

he was a soul you didn't even know existed, yet now as he speaks of this large tree of life that rests, you can't help but feel the desperate need to embrace him. so as he runs his mouth, you shift close to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head to your chest like he is a child of some sort.

to feel a hug in what felt like an eternity definitely has touya freezing in shock, eyes widening as he stops speaking.

“it's okay,” you whispered, and he crumbled beneath you, his body melting into your warm embrace and his eyes shutting to wrap his own arms around your figure.

“nobody deserves to be forgotten. that's for sure. even in life or death, no one should be left alone,” you softly said, words wrapping around touya like a comforting veil as he lets your voice bring him to his own peace and tranquility.

when your fingers weaved themselves into his soft and snowy white hair, he let out a contented hum. it's so overwhelming for him that he can do nothing but bask in your sweet comforting embrace. you feel like your prayers which have been uttered to him back in the world of the living.

touya feels as if he doesn't need to wait for another eternity in purgatory just to disintegrate into nothing anymore.

“what's your name? touya asks you as he stands across from you. it's hours later, you believe, and you're back at where you first stepped foot in.

“it's y/n,” you replied, and he nodded. his fingers slithered to curl around your fading ones, having spent so long on this other side has caused your existence to be comfortable as if you are one of the dead. his thumbs brushes against your knuckles before he steps closer to lean to your level.

“thank you, y/n. for everything,” he leans close to gently press his lips onto yours before pulling away, a smile forming onto his scarred face. his fingers uncurled and he gently pushes you towards the torii gate.

“go. the living awaits you.”

you looked at him one last time before smiling on your own. “i won't ever forget you, touya. it's a promise. i hope to see you again.”

“me too. farewell now, y/n. and thank you again.”

as you step through the torii gate, the scene of the misty mountain disappears into the living world where the graveyard still exists. your eyes immediately travelled back to touya's place of resting, feeling a small smile forming on your face.

your fingers which have gone back to normal gently touched his tomb, letting your touch linger for a moment before you leaned down to kiss his tombstone, saying your farewells before walking away.

the memories of touya todoroki lives on, along with the lingering kiss on your lips which makes your eyes grow glossy at those memories. it appears your soul is just very attached to his, granting you one visit before touya takes his next step in the afterlife.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[crescentbelle]

Liability

Miguel O’Hara x Fem Reader 

Angst

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: After a failed solo mission, Miguel’s punishment makes you feel as if you’ve become a liability.

finished this at 4am with my botchy Spanish skills so please forgive me.

It had been two weeks since your last fight, and equally two weeks since you had stepped foot out the careful watch of your boss, Miguel O’Hara. You weren’t given the luxury to mistake his hovering. His mindset was clear, you weren’t to be trusted.

One slip of a web was all it took, the anomaly you spent the last month tracking down slipped away, snatching your travel watch on the way out. You let the time pass crying out of frustration and being pushed down by a glitch each time you rose from the cracked pavement.

Maybe it was the amount of time it took for you to muster up the courage to tell Miguel you lost him again, or the fact that he then spent the next two days cleaning up the mess the escapee made. Either way, you had committed your biggest mistake since joining the famous group of vigilantes. Not that you could say their band together was infamous to any universe, but that’s what they were to you, and you had utterly failed.

One of Miguel’s star players had let him down, made a mistake so embarrassing to his reputation, that he couldn’t trust you outside his view. Banished to the filing of any and all reports that came through; that was the dignified job you took on. The only thing keeping you sane was to believe it was all just a humiliation tactic from his end, the more you fought against it, the more he succeeded. At this point you didn’t know what to think. The man barely spoke to you, even on his rarely chipper days.

Sat crossed-legged in a chair; you continued the boredom-striking task. Click drag. Click drag. You missed the moments when Hobie came to visit, the small times where you got genuine interaction and not awkward stares.

“you’re free to go now.”

Silence strung together with tension rose thick in the air. Will that ever fade?

He didn’t turn to look at you, his broad frame still turned to his own screen, eyes cold and cruel as ever. God, he really did find you pathetic after this one.

A beat passed. You always wondered if you should thank him, but that just seemed stupid. Thank you so much Mr. Miguel O’Hara for another silent day stuck at your brooding side. You chose the silent approach, slowly uncurling from your awkward position.

Making your way to the door, you heard him call on Lyla, muttering about a mission he needed to put another man on, one that wasn’t you.

“Just take her name off as an option, I don’t want her out right now.”

The words broke you down, weirdly in a way that no other snide comment from the man had before. Since you arrived all you strived for was the acknowledgment of your skills, to show you could become useful. Now, it feels like the rug had been pulled from under you. How long until you get sent back home? How long until Miguel admits you have become a liability?

Please just say anything else, anything so I know you don’t hate-

Miguel calls your name, sharp and devoid of any readable emotion.

“you’ve forgotten your day pass. That’s the second time this week.”

You gritted your teeth, “Thank you.”

“Try not to do that again, you’re glitching has gotten worse.”

That was it, The final stroke. Storming forward, you swipe the scanner off the desk, cheeks burning red with emotion. “You don’t have to scold me like I’m a child, Miguel.”

“Trust me, I know I don't.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not doing this right now, you can leave.” 

Beat. 

“It was one mistake! How does that constitute shunning me away?” Your body was hot, a magma bubbling into adrenaline. With a racing heart, you refused to back down. Everyday sitting in his office like a lap dog for all your friends and accomplices to watch, you couldn’t take it.

The man’s shoulders stiffen, his body toughening to a cold, ridged stance. Slowly, his gaze fell onto you. There they were, those piercing eyes.

That silent tension melted into something thicker and harder to hide from, fear. Fear that radiated off you in waves he could sense like a strike to the face.

“You don’t get to make those choices,” His voice spoke as a mutter, like he was hiding a seething tone from slipping out. “You don’t get to tell me how I choose to keep you safe.”

“You don’t get to talk about me like I’m not right here! I’ve always been on top of things- ever since I got here. Why do I slip up once and you get to treat me like I’m in idiot? Am I that humiliating for you?”

Beat. This one is too long, his eyes shift for just a moment, caught between thoughts. It’s a second of weakness that makes you apprehensive.

“I’m not letting you on any more missions.”

No-

“You’re sending me back.”

He shakes his head, dejected. “No, I’m not- just shit. Please don't make this harder than it has to be. For your sake.”

“Are you kidding me? You're asking me to never fight again!”

“Please-”

You take another step forward. “You’re asking me to throw away what I was built for! This is my meaning, why are you doing this to me?”

With the confidence he had left to muster up, Miguel stalked over to your frame. This was the closest you had been since he picked you up out of the alleyway you pathetically collapsed in, and the desperate feeling followed. To beg and kick like a child until he let you back in. It felt horrific and you wondered if he felt it too.

“I cant help it. Por favor, no te quiero lastimar. Please don't make me risk you again.” His hand moved up, close enough to your cheek that it makes your senses tingle, before its dropped down to his side again. “Please.”

“You’re hurting me.”

Beat.

With what feels like an instant, you’re being pulled into his chest. his broad arms caught you in his embrace, a hand coming to rest against your temple. Its simple, but it makes your heart ache. Never have either of you come this close. This is that desperate feeling bubbling up again.

You wonder if you should have pushed away; told him he's pathetic and walked away from this cryptic language you now share. But you cant anymore, not with his touch like this.

“I’m sorry.” The mumble of his words reverberated through your body like a purr. 

A single drop of a hot liquid hits your forehead and manages to roll down onto his thumb. You scan up to his face. That stoic stare he managed to always hold stood strong, staring off into a void like there's something better to worry about. But his eyes watered and the trail of a tear glimmered on his pronounced cheek. 

He guided your head back down to lay against him again and moved his gaze to the side, anywhere to avoid the way you look at him now.

“Don't leave, okay?”

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Masterlist

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (1)

Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Reader and Spencer face the aftermath of their tryst. wc: 2,8k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"YOU NEED TO LEAVE."

Since when did her life come to this?

She wasn't sure what to make of when the words softly left his lips. The words weren't exactly pronounced in a way that the urgency was prominent, but she could still sense the weight of them as she stared into the dark walls of his bedroom, sprawled out across the bed of this foreign man she had spent the past two hours with.

What was his name again? Stephen? Sean? Or was it Sebastian?

It definitely started with an S.

Her eyes slowly made their way toward him, eying his tall figure as he carefully walked over to his drawers. He awkwardly tripped over a piece of her clothing which lay on the floor before mumbling some incoherent words. He shot her a dubious look past his shoulder and turned his body away, quickly grabbing the first thing he saw on top of his pile of clothes.

His sudden modesty seemed amusing to her when it was barely minutes ago they had shared the sex-induced fantasy of sharing body heat between complete strangers. It was as if he wasn't the one thrusting above her, eyes glazed in desire and mouth open in ecstasy, reaching the peak of his high with her legs wrapped around his narrowed waist.

Surely he hadn't forgotten all of that?

She prompted herself on her elbows and found the piece of clothing he had grabbed in his haste was a pair of brown pants and a nice clean dark shirt. She watched him again and under her scrutinizing gaze, he backed away even further.

His sudden discomfort should've offended her, but it didn't. Somehow it intrigued her how much he was trying to be oblivious of everything around him—the lustful tryst that took place moments ago. The naked woman under his covers. The sudden shrill of his phone ringing on the bedside table.

The latter seemed to catch his attention as he glanced at the source of sound with an alert expression. He crossed the room and quickly answered the call.

"Yes?" There was a muffled reply from the other end before he glanced at the still-naked woman staring at him with curiosity. He cleared his throat again and gave her a look. "I need to take this."

She shrugged. "Sure."

She saw him hesitate for a split second before slipping out of his room, throwing a short reply to the receiving end of his call that didn't go unheard. "Yes, Garcia, I have company." More mumbling. "What? I'm not answering that..."

His words were cut off as he closed the door behind him, leaving her to grasp the situation she had put herself in.

Having a one-night stand wasn't something she often did. She wasn't sure it ever happened again since her freshman year of college when sleeping with a senior at a raging party would solidify her college experience. It seemed right at that time. It was what everybody was doing and her innocent mind believed it was a good idea to expand her nonexistent romantic life.

New place, new experience, new beginnings.

The experience wasn't so bad. Brandon Wallace—who was now happily married according to his recent social media post—wasn't exactly the best lover she ever had, but he also wasn't that bad. It was the awkward moment after the endeavor that made her avoid any repeated situations with somebody she barely knew.

Which was why she was questioning why she let that exact avoidance happen tonight. Why she had stepped into her favorite bar on a random Wednesday night and laid her eyes onto the awkward man sitting a few stools away from her.

Maybe it was the way he seemed out of place. Wearing a crisp blue shirt and a vest over it, he sat in a poised manner while constantly wiping down the bar counter with the napkin he seemed to keep requesting the bartender for.

She was there because she needed the kick of alcohol to calm down the stress from her current work assignment. Jamison, her strict boss who didn't take no for an answer, was starting to make her consider the act of murder. But committing such a heinous crime wasn't exactly nifty, so alcohol was the safe bet.

And thus, what was he here for? The cold beer sitting in front of him was barely touched as he looked around the room in a very uncomfortable manner.

Maybe the fact that she was sitting in an almost empty bar had loneliness wash over her, or maybe it was the alcohol finally kicking in, that she found herself making her way over to him. She was only going to greet him, introduce herself, and remark on how he stuck out like a sore thumb when he clearly was trying to keep to himself.

The hue of the bar lights reflected into a golden halo around his head. She slid beside him, tipped her drink towards his way, and gave him a simple smile.

He shifted in his seat and turned sideways, throwing her a questioning look. Up close, she could see his features clearly. The sharpness of his jaw, his hooded eyes, the unruly mess of brown hair on top of his head. She could tell he wasn't sure how to react to her sudden appearance, but he didn't seem to mind.

She sat there, her lips inching wider at the frown forming on his brows. How could someone be awkward yet adorable at the same time? Y/n was about to introduce herself when he suddenly sat forward, threw her a hesitant smile, and slowly asked, "Do you have any change?"

The random question startled her. "Excuse me?"

"I... I need to pay for my drink."

She shot him a ludicrous look, not sure she was hearing him right. Was he really trying to ask a stranger to pay for his drink? So much for spending the night with what looked like good company. But before she could counter her disappointment, he reached out his hand and in a swift motion revealed a ten-dollar bill from the back of her ear.

"Never mind.” He waved the money in front of her face and cleared his throat. “Found it.”

She blinked, once, twice, trying to comprehend the past few seconds. Then her lips twisted into a wide grin, his own lips twitching into a shy smile.

His attempt at an introduction based on a silly magic trick tugged her heart in a way that had her leaning closer, fingers tracing across his other hand that rested on the table. She didn't know what had impulsed her to be so brazen. It was very unlike her to show interest in the opposite sex, but here she was, touching the warmth of his skin.

But then his breath hitched and her stomach dropped. What the hell was she thinking? Touching a complete stranger without consent as if she was trying to maul him in public.

She shook her head and backed away, an apology already hanging at the tip of her tongue when he suddenly leaned in and wrapped a hand around her wrist. The gesture was very innocent, but somehow his fingers manage to burn her skin. She looked up and held his gaze, found the same bashful smile still playing on his lips, and relaxed at the warmth radiating from his body.

And then the rest was history, to say the least.

Yet even after the travel from the bar to his place, after the haste of removing each other's clothes, and after the post-orgasm that left them both satisfied—although to be completely honest, she would've been more satisfied if he'd let her have her second orgasm—she was starting to question her decision.

She finally threw his covers away and slipped out of his bed. She picked up all her clothing scattered around the room and slowly dressed herself as she carefully tried to listen to the conversation in the other room. But all she heard was muffled voices, and deciding that she couldn't pick out his exact words, she tuned out his voice and smoothed down her hair with her fingers.

Feeling more presentable, she stepped out of his room and finally took in the personal space he lived in. Now that she wasn't preoccupied with unbuckling his belt, she realized how dark his apartment actually was.

There were stacks of books lined up on the walls and scattered papers laying around every corner. He clearly wasn't a clean freak. Although he did seem to dislike public spaces, and honestly she couldn't argue on that when her mind considered the sticky, sugary residue that coated the floorboards and every other surface of the bar.

His hushed voice sounded aggravating and she turned to find him standing in what looked like his kitchen, his back facing her. Not wanting to interrupt him, she decided to look around her surroundings, eying the few framed certificates hanging on one side of his walls. There were a lot of certified achievements he was definitely very proud of with his name glorified on each frame.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

His name was Spencer!

She let out a chuckle. She wasn't exactly good at remembering names. Hold on—doctor Spencer Reid?

Her eyes went wide. But before she could feed her curiosity, she heard footsteps coming closer behind. She quickly turned away and found him glaring at his phone as he strode into the room.

"Bad call?"

Spencer—it was nice to finally put a name on him—abruptly looked up. His eyes studied her in bewilderment as if realizing she was still there. Then his expression slightly softened as he threw his phone away on his couch. "Not really, it was a work thing."

She raised her eyebrows. "You still work this late?"

"I don't exactly have a scheduled working hour."

There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask. What kind of work did he have to be getting calls this late? Why was he inside that bar when he clearly looked like he didn't want to be there? Was he really a doctor? And why did he look so adorable with that frown across his face?

There was something strange and hollow in his eyes that she couldn't quite put on as his hand rubbed over the back of his neck. She could sense the awkwardness stretching between them and needed to fill in the silence.

"So..."

"So..."

She let out an awkward laugh. He, on the other hand, started to fumble with his words as he suddenly spoke, "Did you know that awkward silence is the result of a disconnect between people?" She peered up at him with raised eyebrows. "When there is nothing to say, or maybe one person feels uncomfortable in a situation and doesn't know how to respond."

She blinked in confusion. But he wasn't finished.

"Statistically speaking, 80% of communication is nonverbal, whereas 20% is verbal. So in a way, silence can also communicate just as much information as speaking does. It is used to express anger, sadness, excitement, and other emotion. It can also create tension in a conversation or release it..." He trailed off before letting out a sigh. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"You most definitely are," she confirmed. "Where did that suddenly come from?"

He looked away as a blush crept on his cheeks. "I have an incredibly active imagination. It—uh, it leads to a tendency for me to ramble as my thoughts are constantly flowing."

"And you just know all these random facts?"

"I have an eidetic memory."

"You don’t say?" Her sarcasm was followed by eying the framed achievements plastered on his wall before glancing back at his confused face. She sighed. "Look, I'm not better at this than you are. Let's just... I don't know, thank each other? Say goodbye? Shake our hands?"

His eyes lit up as another piece of information filled his brain. "You know, the number of pathogens shared during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to..." He trailed off again and suddenly gulped, mentally kicking himself when he realized the fact he was about share. "...kiss."

She couldn't help the smirk twitching on her lips. "Is that so?"

He absentmindedly nodded as his eyes glanced toward her mouth. She instinctively took a step closer, noticing the tension in his body as he quickly looked away. This man had just flirted with her using an adorable magic trick, had his head between her thighs minutes ago, and reached an earth-shattering orgasm... yet he had the audacity to act all flustered.

She should probably leave. That was what he wanted moments ago, wasn't it? The words came out of his mouth the moment he checked his phone before jumping out of bed at lightning speed to dress his naked body. He needed to be somewhere. He had this somewhat confidential work he had to do.

Yet somehow he was warm and her hands were surprisingly very cold. The heat radiating from his body called out to her and without registering what she was about to do, she softly placed the palm of her hands on his chest.

She was internally screaming when she inhaled a sharp breath, his scent suddenly engulfing her senses. He smelled slightly sweet with a hint of spice; a woody, earthy musk that was mixed with his natural scent of sweat and hormones. She peered up into his eyes, traveling down to his cheekbones before they rested on his lips.

A riot of emotion burst inside her as she saw his tongue flicking out and holy shit—she just stared at him, completely, utterly enraptured.

Her focus was on his hot breath against her mouth, his lips a mere inches away from hers. He was so close she could practically hear the fast pace of his heartbeat. She could feel him everywhere, his hard body flushed against hers, his head moving closer to her and—

Then his damn phone started to ring again and all her senses went to alert. She quickly took a step back.

Now that was her cue to leave.

And it was a pity because whether she liked it or not, a part of her wanted to stay. But that was not an option. He wanted her to leave and she needed to do just that. She needed this to be a one-time thing.

Because there was never going to be another time. The moment she walked out the front door, they were back to being strangers. She would go back to her life and he would go back to his, probably back to his seemingly not-so-normal job with the way he described his working hours. Or the lack of it, anyway.

His phone stopped its ring and he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He was back to being awkward and she was back to being rational. Although her heart was beating fast and she was as flustered as he was, she didn't him to know what, especially when it seemed like he was about to kick her out again for the second time.

She was too busy oscillating between stunned, mortified, and turned on. She refused to blush. She refused to appear even an ounce embarrassed.

His phone rang again and he looked flustered about what to do. She helped him decide by grabbing her bag that was conveniently hanging by the door. "I should probably go."

She knew she was slightly disappointed, but she'd be damned if he knew the truth. Her mother used to describe her as a spiteful person ever since she was young. But then again, was it so wrong to feel that way? She figured she was just evening the misery out. If something was making her unhappy she felt it was her right to bring at least equal measures of unhappiness.

It seemed relatively immature, but she didn't feel like caring especially how her night had turned out. She took a deep breath and worked out her pettiness.

"Thank you for tonight... Stephen."

He suddenly tensed. "It's Spencer."

She studied the frown on his face. God, she was evil. She would probably regret this childish behavior of hers, although that was something she could deal with later. The very least she could do now was to give him a proper goodbye before she turned her back towards him for good.

"Well, good night, Spencer."

She wasn't sure he even remembered her name or whether he was just as petty as she was. It was more likely the latter considering he had an eidetic memory. "Good night."

She gave him a final nod. He answered by throwing her an awkward wave, a tight-lipped smile, and an even deeper frown as she slipped into the cold air.

>> NEXT PART

[bloodybreakupscene]

-> 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊

miles morales x reader

-> miles having a crush on a bakery worker!! r y'all soulmates or what? (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

-> idea was cute and also i just [re]watched both movies so plz send requests pretty please >__< !! totally not inspired by the song she lives on my block by chicano batman

"miles! can you pick up the—" rio, miles' mother, called from the kitchen, she was currently on the phone with someone as she was cooking.

"the cake? yeah i got it!" he unintentionally interrupted his mom while he walked downstairs putting his jacket on. his footsteps on the stairs making a squeaking sound as he traveled down.

"aye, this boy. be quick, your father will be home soon!" she ushered miles out the door, father's day was today and they wanted to do something special for him.

just before he exits his apartment he grabs his bag, waving 'bye' to his mom. he runs as quickly as he can down the stairs so he can reach the bakery faster. he contemplates putting his suit on and swinging to the location instead but he didn't feel like changing.

miles puts his headphones on and saunters hurriedly through the crowds of people that seemed to come out of nowhere. he sees some people he knows and waves to them, making small conversations with some. just as he reaches the bakery door, he checks himself out in one of the windows.

'i got this,' he thinks as he fixes his outfit and hair in the mirror. his thoughts stop as one of the workers sprays cleaner on the window, wiping the area where his face was. they looked at him confused with an eyebrow raised and all he could respond with was an awkward smile, before walking in.

he shoves his hands in his pocket and walks towards the register where you were working, you looked up from the cash you were counting and instead, at him. he looks at you with lidded eyes as he leaned on the counter, smiling at you. not sure what the hell he was doing you asked,

"uh miles, do you need something?"

his expression changes and his normal happy expression was back, "oh, yeah! i'm here to pick up a cake for rio morales?"

"alright!" you proceeded into the back to look for a cake with the label rio morales, who you recognized to be miles' mom, who came in every once in while

as he saw you walk away he face palmed. 'what am i doing!? i can't do this.' he was sweating so bad, he just really liked you, if that wasn't obvious already. the other worker saw how nervous he was and walked up to him.

"miles."

"huh—? how do you know my name?" he questioned.

"same physics class? i sit next to you. . . ?" the worker said, slightly annoyed.

"oh yeah, yeah, i remember."

"you're trying too hard."

"excuse me?"

"you like (name) right?" worker dude, miles' forgotten classmate, states in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "they like you too, trust, just be you, man."

"okay, i got the cake, sorry it took kinda long, we have a ton of other orders." you laughed a bit at the end of your sentence as miles turned away from worker dude, who went back to cleaning.

"nah it's good, uh, totally random question…but are you free next sunday?" he says, taking the dessert from your hands.

"yeah," you said rather quietly before clearing your throat, "yeah, yeah i am, uh, why?"

"there's this movie i've been wanting to see for awhile, i got two tickets but ganke couldn't go, said something about working on a final." he smiles, holding the cake with one arm and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket with his other.

"oh! yeah i'd like to go." you responded, big smile plastered across your face.

"great, that's good, i'll text you the time, i could go over to your place! and we can walk there together." miles exclaims, an even bigger smile on his face.

"that sounds nice, can't wait." you giggled.

miles smiles, "well i got to go now, my mom's probably waiting for me." he begins to walk backwards confidently, before bumping into a table, almost knocking a napkin holder over, however he quickly grabbed it before it fell. he shoots you an awkward smile as he runs out the door.

"y'all are so corny." the worker rolls their eyes, putting the cleaning supplies away.

"you're just mad no one's asked you out yet." you shot back.

miles finally got back to his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.

"miles?"

he sighed, looking up at the ceiling before turning around and facing both his parents.

"hi mamí, dad." he proceeds towards the table they sat at and put the cake down. "happy father's day!"

"why were you home so late? the bakery's what? ten minutes away? it's been an hour." rio asked, concerned.

"what's going on with you miles?" his father, jeff, said, backing up his wife.

"nothing! i was just, you know, talking with people!"

his mother gasped, both miles and jeff looked at her nervously.

"you were talking to that bakery worker, weren't you!"

"what–? miles, what's she talking about?" his father asks, confused.

"no i wasn—"

"our little boy's got a crush on that nice worker at the bakery! i always see his eyes turn into hearts when they walk by."

they both laugh aside from miles, who frowns and takes a seat, arms crossed.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒽𝑒𝓎, 𝓃𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝒷𝑜𝓇 ౨ৎ

after learning that you live in the same building, you stop by xavier's place after a long day at work.

xavier x reader. 1.1k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ neighbors to lovers-ish ﾉ food

thoughts race through your head as your knuckles come in contact with xavier’s apartment door.

is showing up here weird? is he even at home right now? if he is, what if he doesn’t want company?

you chew your lip as the questions aimlessly bounce around your skull. despite not having many items in it, the plastic bag hanging at your side suddenly feels heavy in your grasp. you’re starting to think the loneliness you’ve felt the past few days is dictating your actions, that your heart is leading over your head. 

you briefly contemplate abandoning your impromptu plan and going downstairs to your floor to have dinner alone like you have been. your foot makes a move to turn on its heel, but the click of the door opening and the sliver of light spilling into the hall from the gap stops you in your tracks.

even though you had hoped he’d be home, you find that your lips part in surprise upon catching a glimpse of xavier. he brings the heel of his palm up to rub at one of his eyes, the other squinted as if the light is too bright for him to handle. the ash blonde hair atop his head is disheveled and despite how unkempt he looks, it appears as though he’s still wearing the clothes he had put on this morning.

“sorry,” you keep your voice down, “did i wake you up?”

“it’s fine.” he waves his hand in dismissal and yawns. “i fell asleep on the couch.”

peeking behind him, you see that one of the throw pillows he keeps on the furniture has fallen to the floor along with a book he must have been reading before dozing off.

the mental image you create of him hanging off the edge sound asleep makes the corner of your lips twitch in a smile but, at the same time, knowing that he’s tired almost makes you feel guilty asking about having dinner with him.

though, before you can even pose the question, xavier’s blue eyes flit down to the bag in your hand. “what’s that?”

you look down as if you’d forgotten why you’d stopped by. “oh, i bought ramen. you want some?”

the mention of food seems to wake xavier up a bit, the drowsiness in his eyes fading as he lightly nods and steps aside to allow you in. you do so, slipping out of your shoes and into the pair of slippers the man gestures towards. they soften each of your steps as you make your way to the kitchen.

setting the bag on the table, you pull each item out one by one—two things of cup noodles, a bag of share-size chips (the fried chicken flavor), and two bottles of tea. you can barely consider it a dinner but xavier says nothing about it, turning to heat up water in the kettle upon seeing that you brought instant ramen. it warms quickly and as the noodles cook, the two of you sit on opposite sides of the table, pulling your wooden chopsticks apart to get ready for the meal.

when the timer you set for three minutes goes off, alerting you that the ramen is done, xavier wastes no time dragging his cup towards him and picking up a large bite. the noodles hang from his lips as his cheeks puff out, broth dripping down into the cup as he slurps them into his mouth. you watch with a growing smile and only speak once he’s swallowed the massive mouthful. “hungry?”

“mm,” he hums with a short nod as he digs back in for another bite. “i didn’t eat before i fell asleep.”

the fact doesn’t surprise you but instead of lecturing him, you eat your meal too. the idle chatter you two share ranges from about what he had been reading earlier to plans for the upcoming weekend. each topic holds little relevance but simply talking to him quells the loneliness that brought you here.

as you clean up, you wonder if he’d mind doing this more often.

“thanks for eating with me,” you tell him, slowly starting on the way to the door.

xavier hesitates before he says anything and scratches at his neck before he finally does. “you don’t have to leave yet. we can… watch a movie or something.”

you stifle a giggle at how awkwardly he proposes the idea. you can’t help but mess with him a little. “oh, so you can fall asleep and i have to finish the movie on my own?”

the man tries to hold back a pout at your teasing but it peeks through in the way that his lip slightly pokes out. as much as he wants to, xavier can’t deny the possibility, so he stays quiet.

your teasing is lighthearted but the more you think over his invitation, the more you start to think that maybe, just maybe, xavier’s in need of some companionship just like you. the carefree way he approaches life never made you consider it before now, but maybe he’s lonelier than he let’s on. it’s no more than a silly hypothesis on your part but still, you clear your throat to rid your voice of its jovial tone.

“i’m only joking,” you reassure him with a small smile. your feet carry you to the couch and you plop down on the far end, the one opposite of the mess he left behind earlier. you look over your shoulder to see xavier standing in the same spot. raising your eyebrows, you ask, “does the offer still stand?”

he seems almost surprised that you’re sticking around but he only lingers for a moment before rounding the piece of furniture to join you. he picks up the book and pillow, quickly cleaning them up. with the clutter handled, he turns on the tv and looks to you with a question. “what do you want to watch?”

“you pick. i’m curious to see what kind of movies you’re into.”

“sure.” he turns his attention back to the screen ahead of him and you do the same to watch his selection process. you don’t expect him to add on, “but no more making fun of me.”

your head quickly swivels to see if xavier’s serious, to see if you actually touched a nerve earlier. and while his eyes are still glued to the tv, you don’t miss the way his lips curl up in a jesting smile. 

you laugh and tell him, “no promises.”

you could get used to nights like these.

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, consider reblogging or leaving a comment :3

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: Can you write something about Jamal Musiala. Sad. Maybe the reader is sad and he’s there for her. Plz (anonymous)

Word Count: 742 words

(author's note: hope the jamal fans enjoy xoxo)

Y/N was having the most disastrous day at work ever. All the notes she had typed up the day prior hadn’t saved, she had forgotten to bring food and she was too late to grab lunch from the lunch hall so she had to go hungry and to top it all off her boss made her work overtime to finish a project she wasn’t even supposed to be working on.

By the time she left work and got in her car to drive home, it was well past 7pm. She knew her boyfriend Jamal would be wondering where she was, but she could barely muster up enough energy to drive home, let alone call him.

When she finally pulled into the driveway of her boyfriend’s house, Y/N got out of her car, collected her bags from the backseat, and walked over to the front door. She pulled out her keys, unlocked the door, and walked in, dumping her bags onto the floor.

“Y/N? Is that you, baby?” Jamal called out from the living room.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go get changed, I won’t be long.”

Y/N went upstairs into the bedroom she shared with Jamal. Opening her dresser drawer, she pulled out a fresh pair of pyjamas and slipped out of her work clothes. She put the pyjamas on, already feeling much better than she did 20 minutes ago.

As she headed into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, she heard Jamal’s quiet footsteps walking up the stairs.Y/N heard him enter the bedroom and open a drawer, assuming he was getting changed.

Once she had removed her makeup and washed her face, Y/N grabbed her toothbrush to squeeze some toothpaste onto it. By this time, being awake was becoming harder and harder for Y/N to do. Painful reminders of her day continued to flood her mind, and she was just desperate to go to sleep.

Jamal came into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s waist. He nestled his head into her neck and pressed a gentle kiss to her skin.

“How was work?” Jamal mumbled softly.

The soft tone of Jamal’s voice and the sincerity of his question made Y/N stop dead in her movements. Before she even realised what she was doing, she began sobbing. Jamal removed his arms from her waist and moved so he was standing facing her.

“Don’t cry, baby, it’s okay. Talk to me, what happened?” Jamal urged, desperate to stop his girlfriend’s tears.

But Y/N couldn’t stop. She felt silly for crying because of a bad day at work, but everything had just built up, and the floodgates had opened. Jamal gently took her toothbrush out of her hands and led Y/N out of the bathroom. 

As he sat her down on the bed, Jamal grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and used them to dry his girlfriend’s tears. He then passed her a clean one so she could blow her nose when she needed to. They sat in silence, Y/N’s cries being the only sound in the room as Jamal’s hand rubbed her back comfortingly, hoping to soothe her.

Eventually, Y/N stopped crying and took a deep breath. She used the tissue in her hand to wipe her nose and then turned to look at Jamal, who was staring back at her with worry in his eyes.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, my love? Did you have a bad day?” Jamal asked.

Y/N nodded, “Everything just seemed to go wrong today and I guess when you asked if I was okay, everything just hit me at once. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise for your feelings. It’s okay to have bad days, and I’m sorry it got you so upset.”

Y/N hugged her boyfriend, “Thank you,” she whispered so quietly that Jamal nearly missed it.

“What do you say we brush our teeth and go to bed? It’s getting late.”

“Okay.”

The pair finished getting ready for bed, and Y/N let out a sigh of relief when her body was finally burrowed beneath the plush sheets of her and Jamal’s bed.

“Good night, baby, tomorrow will be better, I know it.”

Y/N smiled at Jamal’s words and cuddled into his side. They lay nestled together until sleep overtook them, all stresses and worries of the day finally forgotten.

[roosterforme]

The Gray Sweatpants | Rooster x Reader

Summary: For you and Bradley, sharing a home comes easily. He is always willing to put in the extra work to make you happy, and he will do it wearing his gray sweatpants and a smile.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order! Based on a request.

Living with you was an interesting change of pace for Bradley. He had gotten so used to tiny living quarters and never sharing anything. But now you were here in this big house, along with all of your colorful stuff, and your perfume, and your kitchen gadgets. And you wanted to share everything with him. 

Not a day went by that you weren't wearing his clothing and using his shaving cream in the shower. And you always offered to share your food with him, holding up a sandwich or forkful of food for him to take a bite. You always seemed to be around asking about his day and giving him all of the details of yours, delivered with your own brand of wit and humor that never failed to have him wrapping his arms around you. 

It was one of the first Friday nights after you moved into his house, and now it was your house, too. Every time he got to use the word "ours", it made him happy in a way he couldn't really explain. 

"I was thinking we should plant a garden in the backyard," you said, feeding Bradley a bite of your dinner from your perch on his lap. You were wearing one of his Top Gun shirts and nothing else, and Bradley couldn't imagine living here without you. "I mean, San Diego kind of sucks for flowers, but we're hardy east coast people. We should have a garden."

"We would have no street cred if we didn't have sad, dying, east coast people flowers," he replied, delighting in the sound of your laughter. 

"Exactly! Plus, the backyard is a little scary, Roo. I'll help you clean it up on Sunday, if you want."

"Sure, Baby Girl. We'll see."

But he had something else in mind now.

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

You woke up on Saturday morning to an empty bed and groaned. Bradley knew you had particular rules concerning him staying in bed with you on Saturday mornings. And you expected a certain level of compliance. 

"Bradley?" you called as you stumbled into the kitchen where you found him brewing coffee and eating some toast in just his gray sweatpants.

"Morning, Sweetheart," he rasped, but your mouth had gone dry. You must still be in bed, asleep and dreaming. That was the only way this would make sense.

You made a soft, strangled sound as Bradley reached up into the cabinet and grabbed your favorite mug. "Want some coffee?"

"Bradley," you whispered. He wasn't even wearing any underwear. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against the soft fabric as the pants hung low on his hips. 

You were taking a step closer to him, ready to drop to your knees when he said, "You'll be late for brunch with Cam and Maria if you don't leave soon." You had completely forgotten about your plans.

Your eyes slid up his naked torso until they met his smirking face. "Why are you not wearing underwear?"

He suddenly looked embarrassed, cheeks flushing pink. "I actually need you to show me how to use the washing machine. I'm almost out of clean clothes. Can you show me after brunch?"

You glanced at the clock on the microwave and sighed. You didn't even have time to properly blow your boyfriend like you wanted to. "Yeah, I'll show you after I get home, Roo," you whispered, running your fingers along his length through his pants.

"Oh fuck," he grunted when you cupped him and squeezed softly. He pressed you against the edge of the counter, and you could feel him getting hard for you. 

But you just stuck your chin in the air. "Next Saturday, make sure you stay in bed with me longer." You ducked out of his grasp with a grin while he groaned your name. "Oh, and I don't want to be late for brunch."

You got ready to go out, and when you passed him in the kitchen before you left, he was eating more toast and glaring at you. 

"You gonna come back and take care of this later?" he grunted, gesturing to his semi.

"Sure, Roo. Right after we do your laundry," you said with a wink. He just grunted in response before you added, "And make sure you don't go out in those pants. They are indecent!"

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

As soon as you were gone, Bradley thought about jerking off, but he knew he had a limited amount of time before you would be home again. So he quickly put his old sneakers on along with his aviators and traipsed out through the sliding glass door to the backyard. You weren't wrong; it was in pretty rough shape.

Bradley kicked over a faded lawn gnome and opened up the shed. He pulled out some shovels and a rake that the previous owners had left, and he got to work. An hour later, he was shocked to find that there was in fact a garden bed buried back along the privacy fence. He dug up dead plants and weird lawn ornaments, tossing everything off to the side to get taken out with the trash. 

He stopped working for a minute to wipe the sweat from his brow. The sun was strong even for early December, but at least it wasn't too hot outside. And now, as he looked around, Bradley was pleased to see that the whole space looked a lot better. His girlfriend wanted a garden? Well then she would get one.

"Roo?" you called from the sliding glass door. You were grinning and heading his way with a cold water bottle. "What are you doing?"

He took the drink from your hand and downed the entire thing before he answered you. "Making the yard nicer for you. Check it out. A garden bed."

But you weren't really looking at the yard as much as you were looking at him. You wrapped your arms around his sweaty torso and kissed him. "You're so sweet."

He grinned down at you but didn't dare touch, not wanting to get your cute dress all dirty. "We can go to the nursery tomorrow and pick out some flowers if you want. We can plant them...." His word trailed off as you bit your lip and slipped your hand inside the front of his sweatpants. 

"I've been thinking about this since I left for brunch." Your voice was soft and breathless as your fingers teased his length before you wrapped your small hand around his cock. "Been thinking about these gray sweatpants."

Bradley let you ease the fabric down until he was fully exposed. You were licking your lips and moaning softly. He knew exactly what that meant.

"God damn it," he groaned as you dropped to your knees on the grass in front of him. He was standing in the center of the yard, looking around to see if there was any way one of the neighbors could see what was going on. But when you kissed and licked away his precum before parting your lips and taking his tip, he decided he didn't care. 

Bradley reached one big palm to the back of your head and guided you along. You took him a little deeper, looking up at him as your mouth filled up with each inch of him until your lip was brushing his coarse hairs. You gagged a bit, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on him. "You're such a good girl. I'll give you anything you want."

You moaned around him, your tongue swirling along the underside of his entire length until you pulled him out to the tip. You kissed him sweetly and softly asked, "You know what I want, Roo?"

Bradley shook his head a little bit, dazed as you let his cock rest against your plush tongue. He was panting now and twitching as your hot breath teased his dick. 

"You tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

You giggled and smiled up at him with half lidded eyes as your tongue caressed him. You kissed his swollen tip and nuzzled him with your nose before you said, "I want you to fuck me. Right here. In our backyard."

Bradley hauled you to your feet by grabbing your elbows. You squealed with delight, but he hushed you with one hand over your mouth. "I'll give you what you want, but you have to behave. You want our elderly neighbors calling the cops, because they think I'm back here trying to murder you?"

You groaned and licked Bradley's palm, gripping his cock with both hands. "Please, Bradley. Please make it so good that it sounds like that!"

His hand drifted down to your neck, and he led you to the side of the shed, stroking your soft skin as you practically purred for him. His hard dick bounced along, hanging out over his sweatpants as he backed you up against the small building. "Okay."

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

You were so turned on for him, and you blamed it all on his sweatpants. He had no idea what he was capable of in those things. But without underwear? Bradley Bradshaw should have been illegal. 

And now he had your back pinned against the shed with his huge hand on your neck while he reached into your underwear and started to finger you. 

"Oh," you gasped, admiring the way his aviators were sliding down his nose while you rode his middle finger. The pressure on your throat wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough to make you feel like you were no longer in charge here. And that feeling excited you. 

Bradley's thumb stroked your clit, and you cried out for him. "Shh, be a good girl," he whispered, kissing your lips one time while his middle finger pressed forward on your most sensitive spot. When you whimpered, he kissed your forehead and said, "Yeah, nice and quiet, Baby Girl. Show me how good you can be."

You kept your little noises as quiet as you could, moving your hips in time with his thumb stroking you. When you were close, Bradley slipped his finger out of you, leaving you whining his name. He spun you to face the shed, yanking your underwear down so the lace brushed along your legs before they hit the ground. You planted both of your palms against the siding as Bradley pulled your dress up to your waist, fully exposing you to any neighbor who could have potentially been a little too nosy. 

"Oh my god," you groaned as Bradley planted his left hand above yours and guided himself inside you with the other. 

"You're so fucking wet." His voice was deep and needy as he fucked you, placing his hand on your pussy. He let you rub yourself against him as he bumped you along with his thrusts. 

"Bradley." The second syllable was much louder than the first, your voice rising in pitch with pleasure. "Fuck!"

"Shh," he scolded once more. "Quiet, or I'll stop."

It was an empty threat, you were sure of it. He must be beyond the point of no return, but just in case, you covered your own mouth with your hand. He had you pinned tight between his pelvis and his palm, grinding against your butt, and holding you in place.

The beautiful friction of his palm had you clenching and cumming as your orgasm washed over you suddenly. "It's so good," you whined, needing both hands on the shed to keep yourself upright. "You're so good, Roo."

The string of obscenities he muttered next to your ear were nowhere near as filthy as his cock slamming into you and filling you with his cum. He used your pussy to drain him of every last drop as you pulsed around him, and when he withdrew, you felt your thighs get coated with his mess.

You spun around to face him, eyes wide. "I can't believe you fucked me in the backyard." Your eyes dipped down to his cock, softening and dripping your mixed ejaculate all over those gray sweatpants. 

He tipped your chin up and looked at you over the top of his aviators. "You tell me you want something, I'm going to give it to you. Especially if it's my cock."

You grinned and kissed him before adjusting his sunglasses. "Let's go inside. We have even more laundry to do now." You tucked him back inside his sweatpants before stepping out of your underwear. "Don't forget those," you said, pointing to the scrap of lace in the grass.

You watched Bradley bend down and pick them up, bringing them up to his nose with a grunt as he followed you inside.

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

I hope you enjoyed Rooster's gray sweatpants @thedroneranger

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