#i haven't written for him in so long and i was a little worried about being rusty

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 6: Seventeen bias wrecker - Dino✨️

Affect

AN: This has been in my drafts for 600 years because those clips of him from In The Soop still haunt me. I just think it's funny that because it took me so long to get to this, we got even more shirtless Dino in the gym content recently. Clearly a sign from the universe to finish this lmao. I was going to go on a whole unhinged rant about him but, I'll spare you all. We're all going to ignore that 1. his is the longest so far and 2. I've written the most for him out of every idol, thanks.

Synopsis: You thought working out with Chan would be a fun, productive way to spend time together. However, you're sorely unprepared for just how distracting he can be.

Heads up: Lee Chan x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers of sorts, Reader going through it because of her attraction to Chan, praise kink (f. receiving), Chan being a menace, technically public sex I guess (they fuck in the gym but, no one catches them and it's not brought up as a concern), hair pulling, dirty talk, petnames used for Reader, nipple play (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little and creampie.

Word count: 4138

You knew you were doomed the moment you saw Chan in his workout clothing. His shirt sticking to his torso and practically acting like a second skin. You're sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the outlines of his nipples. His shorts were worse, somehow. Beckoning you to look at his toned thighs and zero in on how they hugged his ass.

Today is going to be more challenging than you anticipated.

"So, where do you want to start?" He asks, snapping you out of so blatantly ogling one of your closest friends. God, what're you thinking? You're here to spend time with him. Not think about how broad his shoulders are and just how muscular his ass would feel if you gave it a squeeze or five.

"You're the gym expert. You tell me," You pray to whichever deity is listening that Chan mistakes the delicate quality in your voice for anything other than how much just seeing him dressed like this affects you.

His laugh is boisterous and fills you with so much warmth, turning the already present butterflies in your stomach into dragons. One person shouldn't have this much power over you.

"I better not hear any complaining then," he responds with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Yeah, maybe being alone with the man you're borderline in love with isn't the wisest decision you've ever made, but it's too late now. You resist the scowl that wants to make itself known on your face when you invision a knowing Soonyoung in your mind. He's the one who suggested this to begin with. You're definitely going to be having some words with him the next time you see him, that evil man. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You severely underestimated how much worse this could get. You thought just seeing him in his tight-fitting gym attire was enough to fog up your brain but, that was before you heard the noises.

Lee Chan is a vocal man in all areas of life. Well, all areas of life that you've experienced him in. He's always talking, laughing, yelling at points, singing, sometimes rapping to fill the silence, and a million other things. The point being, Chan is not a quiet man. So, it shouldn't take you by surprise that he's vocal while he's working out too.

Still, the quiet grunts that fall from his lips and fill the otherwise relatively silent gym when he lifts weights causes your heart to beat wildly in your chest. The drawn-out groans when he finishes a set or stretches out his muscles might be the worst. Coupled with the way he grits his jaw and his face contorts when he's lifting, it's frankly a miracle you haven't spontaneously combusted.

However, as you stand and watch him while he illustrates how he wants you to lift these weights to your absolute horror and mortification, you realise you're getting wet. Not only that, but a barely there ache is beginning to make itself known between your thighs.

You're sure your face is radiating enough heat to power a small apartment building. You're really getting this worked up just watching him work out? What in the world is wrong with you? Are you truly this needy? You definitely need to call Soonyoung after this and yell at him until you're hoarse.

"Do you want to try now?" Chan asks you, kind eyes focused on you. You really might be the world's worst friend.

"Yeah, sure," you respond, pulling yourself together as best as you can given that you're unravelling at the seams. The weights aren't too heavy. You test them in your hold momentarily before imitating Chan's movements. There's a slight burn in your biceps but, otherwise you feel fine. It feels good, even. The slight burn fueling you.

"That's my girl,"

Oh.

Oh no.

That's all it takes for you to falter. Your mind suddenly completely forgetting the motions for the exercise you watched minutes ago.

"You were doing good just now but, try doing it this way," he says, standing up from where he'd been seated to watch you. His hands correcting your hold on the weights and the positioning of your arms. Every brush of his fingers on your skin leaves electricity in their wake. Fuck. Fuck this is bad. This is so bad.

Trying to remember how to be a normal human being, you nod at his words. Following his guidance and resuming the exercise precisely how he showed you now that your brain is semi-functional again.

"There you go. Good job," perhaps you should be a little more concerned about just how much his praise increases your pulse and worsens the way your panties are already sticking to you, but that's a thought for examining on another day. You can only handle so much right now.

"How about some pull-ups next?"

"Chan, do I strike you as the kind of person even capable of doing a single pull-up?"

"You could learn today,"

When all you respond with is a stone faced expression, he seems to get the message loud and clear, "Okay, fine. I'll do pull-ups and you do squats. How does that sound?"

"Now you're speaking my language,"

On the ever growing list of 'things you're violently unprepared for today', the next to be added is Chan just casually taking off his shirt. That stops you dead in your tracks. Your lips parting as his bare back comes into your line of sight. You thought it was broad before, but now? Seeing it completely bare? Broad feels like too simplistic of a word to describe it.

You knew, logically, that Chan was ripped. You've seen his arms, paying special attention to them more times than you care to admit. All of the guys work out regularly, and most of them mention Chan as one of the more dedicated members of the group when it came to hitting the gym.

You knew all of that, and yet, seeing the evidence a mere few metres in front of your very eyes leaves you speechless and stunned. Chan must notice your blatantly staring because he turns to look at you over his shoulder, "Is everything okay?"

You must struggle to come up with a believable response too long because he both looks and sounds panicked as he continues on, "Shit, did I make you uncomfortable? I should've asked if you were okay with me taking my shirt off. I'm sorry."

His panic must be infectious because you soon find yourself in a similar state, "No, no, Chan, it's okay. You did nothing wrong. I don't mind you being shirtless," quite the opposite actually, and that's the issue, but you decide to keep that bit to yourself.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind putting it back on if it's a problem,"

"Yes, I'm sure. It's really not a big deal,"

He looks unsure briefly but seems to accept your words. Giving you a nod before turning back to face the pull-up bar and begin his routine. You barely register the faint sting in your thighs from how deeply your nails are clawing into them. Eagle eyes drinking in as much as you can of every muscle contraction of his back. Your panties growing uncomfortably wet now as your ears are assaulted with grunts louder than the ones before.

You need to take a cold shower that lasts hours after this. At least you have a good month's worth of masturbation material now, so there's that.

Chan finishes his set far quicker than you would've liked. Sweat drenching his handsome face and droplets running down his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, his pecs until they disappear into the waistband of his shorts. Would it be so horrible to admit that you'd love to see just where those droplets wind up? That you'd happily follow their path with your tongue instead of your eyes?

"Hey, is everything okay?" Chan asks, dropkicking you out of your obscene thoughts.

"Ye-Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"It's just um you haven't really moved, and you've been kind of...staring at me?"

Oh no. Oh god, he noticed. No fucking shit he noticed you've probably been staring at him with all of the subtly of a rhino in a tea shop. Why did you have to make a day meant to be catching up with a friend so fucking weird.

"I-sorry. You're just distracting," is what comes out of your mouth in your blind panic.

"Distracting?" He asks, titling his head, "I'm distracting? Distracting how?"

By being shirtless, with all of the noises you've been making all day, by touching me, by telling me what a good job I've been doing, by just existing in the same space as me - are all of the thoughts that spring up in your mind. All the thoughts you show a great deal of restraint in not word vomiting out at him.

To your absolute mortification, an expression akin to understanding dawns on Chan's face. You've never wanted the Earth to spilt open and swallow you whole more than in this moment.

"Oh, I'm distracting huh?" Chan asks with a grin a touch too arrogant for you, taking a step towards you.

"No! It's not - I'm not - I wasn't - it wasn't like that," you stutter out, growing ever more flustered as a shirtless, sweaty Chan invades your space.

"It wasn't like what exactly?" He asks, mischief shining clear as day in his typically warm eyes.

Before you can consciously think about it, you find yourself stepping backwards. Much to the amusement of the man you're not sure if you want to kiss or throttle in front of you.

You decide to abandon the route you were on and attempt another one, "I'm sorry for staring at you."

"You don't have to apologise," Chan waves you off, "But I do want to know why you were staring,"

It's clear as day to anyone with basic critical thinking skills why you were so laser focused on his stupid back and shoulders. He just wants you to say it. You never took Chan for the humiliation type.

"You know why," you mutter, leaning against the wall that you had no idea you'd even gotten so close to. You suppose your brain is too preoccupied with trying to keep your friendship from going up into flames.

"I don't. You have to tell me," You really want to punch that shit eating grin off of his face. Your adrenaline spiking as he takes another step towards you.

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"I've heard that once or twice over the years. Still doesn't answer my question though,"

"I think you're attractive, okay?" You finally blurt out. Looking at everything but him in the gym. Studiously focused on one of the treadmills in towards the back, over his shoulder.

"Aw, I'm flattered," he responds, so close to you now that all you'd have to do is reach out, and you'd be touching his bare chest. You have a feeling this isn't going to bode well for you.

"Whatever. You got the answer you wanted. Are you happy now?"

"You know, for being one of the smartest women I know, you're pretty dense," he responds dryly.

"What? Hey!"

"Do you really think I'd react this way to anyone saying they think I'm hot? Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

All you can do is owlishly blink at him. His words washing over you, trying your hardest to digest what he just said to you.

"I think you might have to spell it out for me, yeah," you mutter more breathlessly than you care to admit. It certainly doesn't become any easier to breathe when Chan is fully in your space, crowding you against the gym wall. His scent flooding your system, worsening the wetness between your thighs and muddling your mind even more.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, mere centimetres away from your mouth. His eyes considerably darker than they were minutes ago.

"Yes,"

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes," if anyone asks, you don't sound needy in the slightest when you reply to him.

You quickly learn that Lee Chan, as with many other facets of his life, excels in kissing you until you can think of nothing but, him. Not your mind has been anywhere else for the past few hours to begin with.

Your hands make themselves at home on his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there as you pour what feels like centuries worth of yearning into this kiss.

"May I touch you?" He mutters against your mouth and, you wonder why he'd ever stop kissing you to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes, Chan. You can do whatever you want. I don't care," you rush out in response, dragging his mouth back to yours to feed into what is quickly becoming your newest addiction.

With your green light, his hands drift towards your oversized shirt. Smiling against your mouth when you shudder from the brief brushes of his fingertips along your abdomen while he toys with the hem of your shirt.

"I didn't think you'd be one to tease," you say.

"Have you thought about me like this often?" You really had to be so weak for such an insufferable man huh.

You choose to kiss him instead of replying, tugging on his hair in retaliation for the grin you know is on his face. Luckily for you, Chan seems to have had his fill of toying with you for now. Shoving your shirt upwards, pulling away from you briefly to tug it off of you fully.

He just stares at you. Want clear as day in his eyes as he watches your chest rise and fall and how your sports bra outlines your hardened nipples. You find yourself growing a little self-conscious under his heavy gaze. You hadn't picked your outfit with the goal of winding up like this in mind.

"You're staring," you finally find the courage to say, pushing down every instinct to cross your arms over your chest.

"Just returning the favour," he quips back, jumping back into action and acquainting himself with your throat. You can't help the moans and throaty gasps that leave your lips as his kisses and nips at your sensitive skin, exploiting every weak spot he can find. One of his hands reaching down to fondle your breast, running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

All you can manage to do is lean against the wall for stability. Every kiss and lick and squeeze sending lightning down your spine straight to your clit. You wouldn't be surprised if your legging were wet, too, at this point.

"You're so responsive," he whispers against your neck. Given how quietly he said it, you're not sure whether he meant to verbalise that thought or not, but you can't think to respond when he pushes your bra up.

He dots kisses along your breasts. Each press of his lips bringing him closer and closer to one of your nipples before he envelopes one into his warm mouth. He seems intent to wring every noise, every reaction out of you that he possibly can. Teasingly running his teeth along the sensitive bud, smiling when you arch into his touch. His nimble fingers find themselves at the waistband of your leggings. Slipping into them and pulling a particularly loud gasp from you when they come into contact with your more than likely ruined panties.

Your face burns when Chan's expression morphs into one of surprise, his fingers running along your panty covered slit as if to affirm to himself you're really this wet already.

"I didn't realise I had such a strong effect on you," he says against your breast, his voice gravelly, "Fuck, you're already so wet."

A strangled moan is all you can offer when he finds your swollen clit.

"Poor baby. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just need to get you out of these," he says, kneeling in front of you and pulling your leggings and panties down. You kick off your shoes impatiently to help ease the process, leaving you almost fully naked.

"I can't believe you're this wet when I haven't even touched you properly," he says, sounding genuinely amazed. Intense gaze focused on your swollen, slick slit. Lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over one of his shoulders.

Anticipation settles in your gut as Chan makes himself comfortable between your thighs. Your hips jolting into him when he experimentally touches you once more, completely bare this time. Your wetness generously coating his thick fingers. Your eyes flutter shut as he shifts closer, goosebumps rising all over your body when his warm breaths hit you.

His first lap of you is messy and passionate. A muffled groan is your only warning before he grips your thigh and all but shoves his face into you. One of your hands fists his hair, not sure if you want him even closer or whether you need a minute from the sensations wreaking your system.

"Ch-Chan ah god," you cry out, your hold on his hair worsening. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, however. Intently focused on grinding your pussy against tongue until you fall into pieces for him.

With his mouth latched onto your clit, he teases your entrance with two of his fingers and you feel faint. His eyes find yours momentarily, looking at you through his hair as he checks for any signs of discomfort or reservations. Watching your face while he slowly sinks his fingers into you. His cock leaking even more when your warm, wet walls squeeze his fingers for dear life. He's so fucked.

The stretch his fingers provide requires some adjusting to, and Chan catches onto that. Focusing his attention back on your clit and providing some distraction while you get used to his fingers.

The wall behind you is proving to be extremely helpful. You're sure you would've crumpled onto the floor by now with the way Chan is determined to devour you whole and his fingers curl inside of you. Embarrassment warming your face as the squelching sounds of your wetness and his fingers moving inside of you hit your ears. Those sounds are accompanied by louder moans and whimpers from you when his fingers strike gold. Finding your weak spot and going for the kill.

He exploits your weaknesses gleefully, assaulting the spot over and over again while he continues his ministrations on your clit. It's no wonder your orgasm doesn't take long to slam into you. Watery cries of his name and jumbled curses echoing throughout the empty gym. You're sure you're hurting him from how fiercely you're gripping his hair. You couldn't remember the last time you'd cum this hard. Sagging against the wall when the most intense parts of it subside.

Chan presses one last kiss to your pussy before easing his fingers out of you. Standing up on unsteady legs, cupping your jaw and slamming his mouth against yours. The taste of yourself on his tongue further fueling the fog clouding your mind. Desperate hands dragging him closer to you, revelling in his closeness and the firmness of his body against your own.

"If I knew you tasted this good, I would've offered to eat you out a long time ago," he says when you shift to litter kisses on his jaw.

"If I knew you did it so well, I would've let you," you respond with an easy smile. However, any humour in your tone dissipates when you register his cock pressing against your thigh. Scorching and heavy even through the material of his shorts. Fuck.

Your mouth finds his once more. Teeth and tongue clashing with one another as he grinds himself against you, groaning into you.

"Chan, please," you whine.

"Hmm? Please, what?" You're not sure if he's genuinely too disoriented to understand what you're asking of him or if he wants you to beg. Either way, you've long since abandoned any semblance of pride.

"Please fuck me,"

His eyes shut briefly, and you watch the way his jaw clenches, "You're going to be the death of me."

If you weren't aching and noticeably empty, you might've giggled at his words. Watching him shove his shorts and underwear down his thick, muscular thighs through lidded eyes. A fresh wave of wetness gushes out of you when his cock springs free. Of course his cock would look mouthwatering too. Of course.

"You really do like to stare, huh?" he muses, stepping closer to you. Hoisting one of your legs over his elbow.

"Sh-Shut up," you stutter, fingernails digging into his biceps as he drags his cock along your pussy. His cock glistening with your arousal in no time.

"That's not nice," he faux pouts, nudging your entrance with his tip. Your knees almost buckle underneath you. A moan bubbling out of just from him toying with you.

"Chan, please. I want it. I want you, please-"

You're promptly cut off when he pushes inside of you. If you thought the stretch provided by his fingers was overwhelming, the girth of cock brings tears to your eyes. Your strained gasps and his restrained groans intertwining.

Is it possible to cum just from being so full? Lee Chan might just help you answer that question. You're not sure you've ever felt so full and stretched out in your entire life. A few stray tears running down your face already.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking just as wrecked and overwhelmed as you feel. He's practically vibrating from the effort not to move. His cock pulsing inside of you.

"Ye-Yeah. It doesn't hurt. You can move," you respond. It's now or never.

Chan starts off very slowly. Letting you grow accustomed to his girth with every drag of him along your walls. Muttering quiet praises into your neck about how well you're doing, how good you feel, and how you're taking him so well. His words prompting you to clench around him and gush around him.

"Chan, faster, please. You can move faster. It's okay, I can take it," you whine. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if he keeps thrusting so slowly. His consideration is sweet. Really, it is, but it's torturous too. From the way he seems to be restraining himself, you assume the feeling is mutual.

Something snaps in him then. His eyes more feral than they were moments ago as he picks up his pace considerably. The sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin mingling with your respective noises of pleasure.

"Taking my cock like such a good girl," he groans into your shoulder, sliding impossibly deeper into you when he angles himself a little differently than before.

Perhaps he's noticed the way his praise impacts you. His filthy mouth not stopping.

"Look, baby," he mutters lowly into your ear, "I want you to look at how well your pussy takes me,"

You can't find it in you to disobey. Chasing the high of being his good girl. So, you glance downwards. Your cheeks heating up as you watch him fuck into you and the way you're being split open by him. You never thought the sight of yourself being fucked would garner such a strong reaction from you but, you've been learning quite a bit about yourself today.

"It's hot, isn't it?" He asks, a moan falling from his lips when you tighten around him, "So hot watching me fuck this pretty pussy of yours."

You've never cum just from penetration but, Chan is proving himself to be head and shoulders above every other man you've slept with. You're completely and utterly caught off guard when you cum for a second time and, Chan seems to be too. Startled, wide eyes watching you shatter in front and around him for a second time. Ever the caring gentleman as he soothes and fucks you through it.

You're barely coherent when Chan's pitchy moans of your name register to your mind and you feel his warm, thick cum flood your awaiting pussy. His hips weakly twitching into yours with ever spurt of his cum inside of you.

Honestly, it's a wonder both of you are still standing. Barely, but you're standing. Leaning into each other and the trusty wall for support as you come back to yourselves.

"If working out with you always ends up like this, we should work out together more often," he says, kissing your neck and shoulder lazily.

You really just had to fall for one of the most eye roll inducing men you've ever met, huh.

[vivwritesfics]

Marshmallow

Her bed is too comfy for Bucky. But she has a solution

Fluff, fluff, so much fluff - but also I haven't written for this man in so long, it was like coming home

Her bed was like a marshmallow. Now, to most, this was no bad thing. But Bucky Barnes wasn't most. He was a soldier, Sergeant James Barnes. He wasn't used to comfort.

They'd met in such a normal way for a super soldier. Bucky had been trying to date, he'd been trying for so long after… everything, that he'd given up hope.

But there she was, reaching for a coffee that wasn't hers because she was too tired to proper comprehend it.

Her own name was called just after (Bucky definitely hasn't been listening while she ordered her own coffee, who said that?) and Bucky picked up her coffee and carried it to the outside table she'd been sitting at. There she was, ready to lift his coffee to her own lips.

“I think you've got mine,” he said with a warm smile as he showed her her own name written on the side of her cup.

She paused, pulled the coffee away from her mouth and looked at the name on the cup. Her head fell forward, embarrassment written on her face. “And my name isn't Bucky,” she said and pushed the cup of coffee towards him. “What kinda a name is that, anyway? I've never met a Bucky before.���

“It's a nickname,” he began as he slipped into the seat opposite her and placed her coffee down in front of her. He held out his flesh hand. “The name's James.”

“How do you get Bucky from James?”

Things progressed from there. Conversation was easy, in a way it hadn't been on any of his other dates and, by the end of the night, he was asking her to dinner.

It was dinner. And then a movie date. And then the library. Picnic in the park, nature walks, they did it all.

The first time Bucky stayed over (which took some convincing. They'd been seeing each other for three weeks and she'd determined that, after watching movies on her couch, it was too late for him to travel through the city back home), he'd just laid awake, sleep unwilling to find him.

He couldn't sleep, anyway. Not with her sleeping on his flesh arm. He played with her hair, touch gentle to not wake her. A little while before he met her, he would have seen a monster as his vibranium fingers played with her hair.

It kept happening. It was almost like Bucky couldn't stay away. And, every time he slept in her bed, she ended up sleeping against him in some capacity. Laying on his arm, head against his chest, holding his hand as it was wrapped around her middle.

He'd get used to it, he told himself. Lay there long enough and he'd fall asleep eventually.

Well, that wasn't how it was panning out. Bucky remained away, plastering a smile on his exhausted face the next morning so that she wouldn't worry about it. For now, it was working. For now, he was happy to wear that smile while they drank coffee on her couch, her feet in his lap.

It was his third night in her bed and Bucky was exhausted. Maybe this was the point where he could finally fall asleep beside her, holding her close.

But no, that wasn't the case. Of course it wasn't, Bucky never got that lucky.

She'd started the night laying on his chest, lips parted as soft snores left her lips. Bucky had his arm around her, keeping her close as he shut his eyes and tried to force himself into sleeping (which we know didn't work).

She rolled away from him in her sleep, releasing him completely. Bucky stayed there, laying on his back as he looked at her. She looked so pretty when she slept, and he couldn't stop himself from being jealous.

Pushing himself up, Bucky sucked in a breath. He rubbed his hand over his face, momentarily shutting his tired eyes. Even with his eyes shut, it offered him no rest.

It was, well, bullshit.

As carefully as he could, Bucky climbed out of the bed. He tried to leave the sheets undisturbed, to keep her asleep. But there was little he could do to stop himself from reaching over and kissing her cheek.

He left the room after that, feet quiet and carefully as they carried his heavy, muscled body away. He pulled the door as close to shut as he could without it clicking shut.

Loose in the apartment, Bucky didn't know what to do with himself. He got himself something to drink and just looked through the fridge. He sat on the couch, patting his thick, muscled thigh as he silently flipped through channels.

But there wasn't much he could do. Part of him debated laying on the floor and attempting to sleep, but he couldn't. Not when she was in the next room, probably searching for his warmth.

Through his boredom, Bucky remained quiet. He couldn't imagine anything worse than waking her up, not when she was sleeping so peacefully.

Except she wasn't sleeping peacefully. It was the absence of him that woke her. She knew something was wrong, she just couldn't place it. But then she woke up and Bucky was gone. That was what was wrong.

Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and slipping her feet into her slippers, she walked out of the bedroom.

“Buck?” She called, voice groggy as she walked towards the couch. He turned his head, watching as she made her way to him and climbed up onto the couch. Throwing one leg over his, she seated herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around him. “What're you doing out here?”

His hands were on her hips as he looked at her. “Couldn't sleep,” he replied and pulled her towards him.

The kiss he placed against her lips was soft, sweet, slight beard scratching against her cheek as he moved towards her neck.

“I missed you,” she replied as she settled against him.

Suddenly, Bucky's lips stopped moving against her neck. He released a sigh and pulled back to look at her tired face. “Do you wanna know why I haven't taken you back to my place yet?” He asked and she nodded her head, fingers dancing across his chest in a soothing manner. “It's because I don't have a bed.”

“You don't have a bed?” She asked, looking up into his blue eyes.

He shook his head. “No, doll, I don't have a bed,” he repeated, his own fingers moving up and down her sides. It wasn't ticklish. No, it had her damn near falling asleep. “I tried to sleep on a bed, got an expensive one for my apartment. Had it for a week before I got rid of it. When I tried laying on the floor, I actually got to sleep.”

Suddenly, she was standing. She grabbed two pillows from the sofa, held them against her chest and grabbed his hand. “C'mon,” she said and led him over to the empty corner of the room.

Throwing the pillows down, she sat and laid the blanket down on top of her. She patted the space beside her, looking up at her with her pretty eyes.

Bucky sat beside her. She pulled the blankets over his legs and then pushed his back against the pillow. “Doll,” he began as she rolled over, resuming her position from earlier. “You don't have to do this.”

“I want to,” she replied and kissed his shoulder.

“But you back-”

And then she was hushing him, shutting him up with a kiss. “Let me do this for you. Besides, if things get uncomfortable I can always lay on you, right?”

“Right.”

She settled down against him, eyes shutting. But seconds later, Bucky had her in his grasp. He rolled her over until she was laying on top of him and kissed the top of her head. “There,” he said against her hair. “That's better.”

And, that night, Bucky Barnes fell asleep.

[inkedbybarnes]

his baby

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky won't call you by your name.

word count: 400+

warnings: 18+ minors dni. established relationship. tooth rotting fluff, or worse... allusions to smut. a whole lot of usage of petnames mainly being baby, bucky being obsessed with the reader (that's a warning, i say), lowercase writing.

i have no idea what this is (okay, maybe i do) but it happened. really cheesy, but i guess i'm into that sometimes. hope you like this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“where's my baby?”

those three words kept echoing all throughout the compound this morning. most of the team were up and awake to welcome bucky, steve, and sam who just arrived home from their week long mission.

but his baby was missing.

“oh, god. here he goes again.” sam shook his head, fatigue written all over his face, but a bit of amusement from bucky's behaviour still shining through. he couldn't deny how admirable bucky's adoration for you was.

“calm down, punk." steve pat his shoulder reassuringly. “i'm sure she's here somewhere.”

“yeah, but where?” bucky asks again. “i haven't seen her for a week. i miss her.”

“you think he remembers her name?" clint jokingly asked.

“she has multiple names, remember?” tony answered. “baby, sweetheart, love, sweets, and.. what's the other one? i swear, there's another, or maybe two?”

before one of them could find the answer, bucky popped right in front of them to ask another question.

“is my baby okay?” his brows were all scrunched up, genuinely worried about you. “did you tell her i was coming home? i told her before we took off. why isn't she here? she's always—”

“okay, lover boy. your baby is alright, she's still sleeping in your room, i think.” tony answered him, finally calming him down. “and can you call her by her name when it's just us around? we're starting to think that you forgot what her actual name is."

“what? she's my only baby, it's not that hard to figure it out." bucky shrugged, causing at least three of the avengers to run their hands through their face at his answer. “and why is she still asleep? is she sick?"

natasha raised her hand, a guilty smile on her face. “i'm the reason for that. i made her stay up late with me last night to watch five seasons of a show we discovered accidentally,” she explained, a proud smile now replacing her guilty one. “she might be a little cranky from the lack of sleep, so you better have something for her when she wakes up.”

“oh, i do.” bucky grinned like he already knew what to give her and was prepared for it. “all of you might want to leave the tower for the entire day if you don't want to hear me giving it to her.”

what used to be the shouts of bucky looking for you were now replaced with the grunts and complaints of the team because of bucky's answer.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[cyberrose2001]

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

[keikikait]

ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part three. for part two, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 6.7k. i got carried away. i locked in all day to write this.

summary: a trip to get your new phone results in something new…until rafe finds out

warnings: SMUT WARNING 18+! HEAVY cunnilingus (pretty much all pussy eating), slight nipple play (f receiving), rafe is a munch argue with the wall, slight dom!reader (never written it before so soz if it’s awkward), leg humping, cumming in pants, some angst at the beginning/middle, smut at the end, jealous!rafe, some jj x reader, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: i am so locked in on this series. that being said, this is most likely the final part. but don't worry, i have another rafe idea in mind!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You only get a few hours of sleep before Rafe is stomping around your room, getting dressed to leave you yet again.

The sunlight pours in through your now open window, your curtains flowing softly in the wind. Your bed is so warm and soft that you don’t even want to get up, your duvet smelling faintly of Rafe’s cologne. You sit up, rubbing your eyes. “Rafe?”

He turns to look at you, his blue eyes softening when he looks at your sleepy face. He slips his arms through the holes of his shirt before pulling it over his head, smirking. “Yeah? You okay?”

“Where are you going?” You ask, yawning.

“I gotta go.” He says, straightening his shirt out. “I was supposed to meet with Sofia for breakfast today. Some new breakfast bistro opened up downtown.” Rafe sits down on the edge of your mattress, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “I’ll be back tonight, alright?”

You whine, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. “No.”

Rafe sighs, grabbing your hand and gently pulling away your grip. “Sweetheart, don't do that.” He says, his voice stern. “I told you, I'm supposed to be with her for breakfast.”

“No!” You tug him onto the bed. “You love me, not her. You said so yourself.”

He falls onto the bed, cursing under his breath as he looks at you. He sighs, reaching out and taking your chin in his hand. “Don't do this, pretty girl. I'm supposed to be with her right now. Don't throw another tantrum like that. Not now. I don't want to be late. I'm not going to be late just because you are being a brat.”

You push his hand away, sitting up fully. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Rafe. I don’t want to tolerate your bullshit anymore.”

Rafe sighs again, frustrated. He grabs your chin again, more roughly this time. He moves closer to you, pinning you against the pillows. “You just promised me last night you wouldn't doubt my love for you again. I'm going to spank that bratty little ass of yours if you keep this bullshit up.”

“I’m not doubting you, I just…” You sigh, pushing against his grip. “I want to be your first choice. I want to be your only choice. I don’t want to be the other woman anymore.”

“You don't think I know that?” He snaps, his grip tightening. “I know that, sweetheart. You think I don’t know that? I know you don’t want to share, I know you want me to be only yours, I know all of that. But I don’t have a choice right now, alright? Why can’t you understand that?”

His grip stings your skin. You wince slightly, pushing against him. “Why can’t you just break up with her, Rafe?”

“Because I have to play the long game with her, baby. I don’t expect you to understand, but you gotta trust me. This will pay off in the long run, I swear. So stop being a brat about this, please.” He moves closer, shifting one hand to pinch your hip as a warning. “I don’t want to have to punish you for questioning me.”

You whine, squirming under his grip. “Rafe, please, just listen to me! I swear, you don’t need her, she’s just using you--”

Rafe’s phone starts ringing, vibrating on your bedside table. 

It’s Sofia.

Rafe looks over the nightstand, gritting his teeth when he sees her name. He sighs, grabbing his phone and holding it to his ear. “Hey, babe.” He says, his voice suddenly soft. He turns to look at you, a warning gaze telling you to keep your mouth shut.

The way he says babe makes your heart ache, tears welling in your eyes. You crawl towards the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around his hips, and press your face into his stomach. You want him to stay with you.

He gently places a hand on your head, his fingers running through your hair as he talks to Sofia. “Yeah, I’m on my way right now, I’m just running late.” He says, his voice sweet as usual. There’s a pause as Sofia responds to him, his voice softening even more as he answers. “Of course I still want to come, babe. You know I do.”  He tugs your head back before moving his free hand to your chin, pinching it between his fingertips as he glances down at you.

Your bottom lip trembles as his thumb brushes over it. You kiss it, trying to nuzzle his hand.

Rafe’s silent as he listens to Sofia respond to him, his gaze growing dark as he glances at your face. He lets you nuzzle his hand, dragging his thumb across your teeth as he responds, his voice growing a bit deeper as he speaks. “Yeah, I’ll be there in half an hour, I promise, okay?” He sighs, holding your chin. “Alright. I love you too, babe. See you soon.”

I love you.

I love you?

Your eyebrows furrow and you immediately pull away, moving towards the head of the bed, trying to soften your cries as he hangs up the phone.

Rafe sighs, shutting his phone off and setting it back on the nightstand. He glances at you, watching as you scoot backwards towards the top of the bed. He frowns. “Hey. Come here.” His voice is so soft that you almost give in.

You shake your head over and over, bringing your knees to your chest. How stupid could you be? Why did you even believe him in the first place?

“Stop it.” He snaps, his voice suddenly serious. He grabs one of your ankles, pulling you down towards him. “I said, come here. Don’t make me say it again.” He pulls you down the rest of the way, pinning you against the headboard with his large, strong frame.

You try not to cry, biting the inside of your lip, squirming underneath him. “Just go. You’re going to be late.”

“Baby-” He sighs, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “Why are you being such a brat? We talked about this last night, alright? I told you to trust me, so why can’t you trust me?” He gently takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. “I swear, this attitude of yours really needs to stop. Don’t make me put you over my knee.”

The way he talks to you makes your skin crawl and your stomach churn. You squirm, trying to get him off of you. “Please let go, Rafe. I understand. Please just let go.”

He sighs again, frustrated. He sits back a bit, but he doesn’t move back entirely. He continues to hover above you, towering over your frame. “Sweet girl, please, stop this. I told you last night, I don’t want to have to punish you. I don’t want to fight you, but you have to let me work with her. I swear to you that I’m going to dump her as soon as I can, alright? You have to trust me.”

You sniffle, squirming underneath him. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He says, cupping your face and forcing you to look at him, his face just a few inches from yours. “I swear to you, I’m gonna dump her soon, alright? I’m not just saying that to make you feel better, sweetheart. I love you, alright? I swear.”

“I love you too.” You say. And you mean it. Does he?

He sighs, his brow softening. He leans in and kisses you, his lips gently gliding over yours. He pulls away after a moment, just to stare at you for a moment. He then glances at the clock on the nightstand over his shoulder, sighing again. “Okay, pretty girl, I really do need to get going now. I’m definitely gonna be late if I’m any more late. I’m sorry.” He moves back, releasing your chin.

“Be safe.” You call, standing up from your bed.

Rafe pauses, glancing back at you with a small smile, lingering by the door to your bedroom. “I will. Don’t throw any tantrums while I’m gone, alright?” He sighs, his expression growing soft. “I’ll call you when I’m headed back, baby. Love you.”

He exits your bedroom, and a few seconds later you hear your front door open and close.

You’re alone. Again.

It's only 8:30 AM, but the weight of the world already presses down on your shoulders. You groan, climbing back into your bed and burying your face in the pillow. You sniffle, wiping away the tears on your cheeks and your undereyes. Your mind races, and you know you should get up and get ready for the day. You should also eat something. The tasks loom like dark clouds on the horizon, threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you close your eyes and go back to sleep, even just for a little bit.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You forgot you smashed your phone.

After your morning shower and a rather large breakfast, trying to make up for the last two days. You search your living room for a while before finding it curled around the corner of the plaster wall. It’s smashed in half, the screen cracked all the way down to the charger port. Thankfully, you had a bit of forethought last night, ordering the phone to be for next day pickup rather than delivery.

You pick up the two halves of your phone, your finger accidentally running over the screen. Somehow, the phone still turns on, glitching for a moment. You carefully throw it into the trashcan before sweeping up the excess glass. You’ll have to go pick up your new phone today, as much as you don’t want to.

Maybe I’ll just go after lunch…, you think. You really don’t want to go out right now, especially not to the Apple Store in the mall, but then you remember that Rafe said he would call you tonight. You rub your eyes, letting out a loud groan before heading into your bedroom to change.

It takes you around an hour to get ready, picking out your outfit, fixing your hair, doing your makeup, getting yourself looking somewhat presentable and not like you just laid on your couch for two days. You end up picking a simple yet cute outfit, a white sweater tucked into a short dark blue skirt, black tights, and some heeled boots, and a small black leather shoulder bag. You check your reflection in your bedroom mirror, sighing to yourself. You looked good, really good. You could almost hear Rafe’s comments on your outfit; ‘You look great, sweetheart, but that means other men will think so, too.’ But maybe you did want them to think that way.

You hesitate a moment when you grab your keys. You’re still exhausted and really don’t want to go get your phone, but you need to get your phone, even for non Rafe-related reasons.

With a heavy sigh, you grab your keys and head out. 

After a short drive and a long peruse of the parking lot, you finally head inside the mall. You feel inclined to check Sofia’s Instagram, reaching for a phone that isn’t there. Making your way through the mall, you finally reach the Apple Store, which is mostly empty, and you’re quickly able to get in line for customer support. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long for you to get in, and soon enough, you’re talking with one of the employees, giving them the serial number of the phone you ordered. The woman behind the counter is all smiles, seemingly kind and cheery. She taps away at the computer on the counter top, typing in the number. She asks you routine questions before setting up your phone for you, sliding it across the table. 

“Thanks.” You say, standing up. “We’re all good on payment, right?”

The woman, Sherri, smiles and nods. “Everything’s all set, honey!” She says, cheerful. “Anything else we can do for you today?”

“I am all set.” You say, giving her a smile before hurriedly rushing out of the Apple Store. You mess around with your phone settings, looking down as you walk. 

“Ow. Hey—” You bump into someone as you step out of the Apple Store, glancing down at your phone instead of watching where you’re going. A familiar voice makes you stop dead in your tracks, and your head tilts slightly, a small smile on your face. 

“JJ, hey.” You say, putting your phone into your purse for safe keeping. 

JJ is grinning, as usual, his hands stuffed in his pockets and that charming smirk still on his face. “Hey, sugar.” He says, looking you up and down. “You look fancy today, you goin’ somewhere?”

“Just had to get a new phone,” You say, pulling it out to show him. “Smashed mine by accident.”

“Damn, that sucks, baby doll.” He says, leaning in a little closer to look at it. “You gotta be more careful with your stuff. A pretty thing like you needs to take care of herself.”

You blush, and your ears turn pink, too. You shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially with JJ. Even though Rafe had filled your head with tons of negative opinions on JJ, you had never had a problem with him. “Y-yeah, I know.” You’re having a hard time forming sentences, stuck on an endless loop of blushing and admiring the blond in front of you. 

“Mmm, such a cute blush. You’re a lil flustered.” He teases, leaning in closer, his eyes looking you up and down. He reaches out and grabs your hand to gently pull you closer, and you oblige, getting right up against him. “C’mon, baby doll, you got a crush on me now or somethin’?”

“Maybe.” You say softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

He chuckles, looking down at you. “Yeah, sweetheart? You got a thing for me?” His tone turns teasing, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.  His moves his hand up to cup your face, rubbing his thumb along your jawline. “What, boyfriend ain’t treatin’ your cute little ass right, or somethin’? That why you got a crush on me?”

“You know I don’t have a boyfriend, JJ.” You say, reaching out and rubbing the hem of his button-up shirt, your thumb swirling on one of the buttons. 

JJ grins at you, the smirk growing wider. “That right, pretty girl?” He asks, letting go of your chin and grabbing your hand, stopping you from swirling your thumb along his shirt. He grabs your hand instead, his touch rough. “If you don’t got a boyfriend, then that means you’re free game, darlin’.”

You intertwine your fingers, tugging him closer. “That I am.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ grins, being pulled closer to you. He grabs your wrist, turning and pulling you against his chest, his free hand resting comfortably on your hip. “That means I could kiss you, and you’d let me?” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as he looks down at you. He grins. “Maybe I’ll try it right now.”

“A kiss before our first date?” You ask, tilting your head a little. “How naughty of you, JJ.”

He chuckles again, shaking his head. “I’m a naughty boy, sugar, everyone knows that.” He says, his eyes looking you up and down once again. “But you look just too damn cute in that girly little outfit of yours, I can’t resist you. You’re too damn pretty.” He smiles again. “But yeah, I guess I should take you on a proper date first, huh?”

You nod, tugging him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Are you free now?”

JJ laughs, his arms wrapping fully around your frame as you tug him closer. He rests his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips with his fingers. “Free as a bird, baby doll. You wanna go right now?”

You nod, incredibly eager, willing to do anything to get your mind off of Rafe. You look up at him and bite your lip. “How about we try that new breakfast bistro downtown?”

“Whatever you say, sugar.” JJ says, his smirk growing wide as he notices the eager look on your face. “You seem like you’re kinda hungry for somethin’.” His hand moves to the small of your back, gently holding your frame close to his. “Breakfast bistro ain’t a bad place to start.”

“My car or yours?” You ask. 

He grins, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to look at him. “You don’t mind ridin’ with me, do you, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head. 

He smiles back down at you, leaning in closer. His face is just a few inches away from yours, his eyes staring down into yours before glancing to your lips. “Good.” He whispers. “Cuz I don’t think we can both fit in your teeny, tiny car. Plus…riding on my bike means you can hold onto me.”

You glance at his lips before meeting his eyes. “I’m ready when you are, handsome. But remember,” You lean a little closer. “It’s just one date.”

He chuckles, his grip on your chin tightening just slightly before he leans in to give you a gentle kiss. “You’re cute as hell, you know that?” He asks, pulling away a moment later, grabbing your hand again. “C’mon, sugar, my bike’s parked out back.”

You eagerly follow him, your whole body feeling fuzzy.

The new bistro is called the Early Bird Cafe & Bistro. 

It’s totally not your fault it’s the same restaurant Rafe and Sofia are supposed to be at, just like it’s totally not your fault that you’re here with JJ at the same exact time. You spot Rafe right away, wearing that light blue sweater that drives you absolutely crazy, hugging his biceps and shoulders so well you wish you could sink your teeth into him. 

You slip the hostess $20, hoping she would let you get the empty table directly behind them. Sofia would have her back to you, but Rafe would get a front row seat. Your little bribe works, and she quickly leads you and JJ into the bistro and to the nearest empty table, right behind Rafe and Sofia’s table. You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you hurry into your seat, JJ sitting across from you, resting his hand on the table.

It’s perfect. You and Rafe can look each other dead in the eyes, while Sofia and JJ will have no idea. 

At first, you try to focus on JJ, listening to him talk as you look at the menu. You only peek at Rafe every few seconds, your eyes drawn to him, no matter how hard you try. He’s just sitting there, talking to Sofia as usual, but he keeps glancing at you, his eyes watching you intently. You order the cheapest thing on the menu, leaning across the table and holding JJ’s hand while he talks about his bike and how much it cost to fix it.

You prop your hand up on your palm, pushing your lips into a pout, and look up at JJ while he talks. You know Rafe is watching you.

JJ is absolutely loving your attention, oblivious to the fact that you’re doing all of this just to make Rafe watch. He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you when he sees the pout on your lips. “Oh, c’mon, you gonna give me that cute little pout? You tryna make me blush or somethin’, baby doll?” He reaches out and brushes his thumb along your lower lip. You kiss it, pressing your tongue against it.

He groans under his breath at the gesture, the smirk spreading wide on his face. “Oh, shit. You know, I love that mouth of yours.” He says, a hint of warning in his tone, his hand still holding your chin as his thumb continues to rub along your lower lip. You lick the tip of his thumb again, Rafe’s furious expression visible even out of the corner of your eye.

JJ’s lips twitch at the gesture, letting his thumb slide fully past your open lips, pushing into your mouth as he leans closer to you. “God dammit, you know how to tease a man, don’t you?” You kiss his thumb again before pulling back as the waitress rounds the corner, setting your food down.

Rafe is furious, chewing aggressively and holding his silverware so tight it might snap under the pressure. Sofia is rambling about something he doesn’t care about, completely unaware of his eyes remaining solely on you.

You keep your attention on JJ for the rest of your date. All things considered, he's actually a really sweet guy. Even after finishing your food, you continue to sit and chat, and you notice Rafe and Sofia doing the same. He was keeping an eye on you, occasionally glancing your way. The bistro starts to close down, so you and JJ start to head out. You fish through our purse for some more cash, but JJ’s already throwing it down, even including a small but reasonable tip.

“Thanks, JJ.” You say, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I’m treatin’ you, alright? You don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

And you don’t.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

JJ gives you a ride back to the mall so you can pick up your car. After sharing a few more kisses, your back pressed against the hood, he reluctantly pulls away. 

“I had fun, sweetheart, seriously.” He whispers, his thumb rubbing your lips again before resting his hands on your hips as he leans closer. He gives one final kiss, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment. “I’ll call you later, alright?” He mutters, kissing you one final time. 

You nod. “Ride safe, okay?”

He chuckles, kissing your nose before letting you go. “Of course.” He says, putting on his helmet. “I’ll call you later. You be safe, too.” He gives a last wink before getting onto his bike and riding off. You wave him off, watching him leave the parking lot. You ride home on cloud nine, your chest feeling light, almost euphoric. You felt happy and wanted for the first time in a while.

When you go to pull into your parking spot, you see Rafe's dirt bike parked right next to it. “Fuck.” You groan softly, grabbing your purse before getting out of the car, closing the door behind you.

As you walk towards your front door, unlocking it, you hear the soft sound of music inside. You push open the door, your eyes widening when you see Rafe sitting on the edge of the couch, sitting in the dark. The only thing that gives the room any light is the streetlamp outside, the soft glow filtering through your windows. He looks up at you as you come in, a cold, blank expression on his face.

“How did you get in here?” You ask, setting your bag down.

At first, he doesn’t respond to you, sitting completely still. He watches your every movement, his eyes narrowing as you set down your bag. He stands up, slowly approaching you. He grabs your face in an iron grip, squeezing your cheeks just a bit too hard as he tilts your head up so you’re forced to look at him. There’s nothing but barely restrained anger in his eyes. “You have some gall.” He says, his voice low. “Being there with him. Letting him kiss you. Letting him touch you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” You say. “You do that a lot.”

“Shut up.” He says, his hand still on your face. His eyes are cold and furious. “I had to watch him touch you. Kiss you. Look at you. Hold you.” His grip on your face tightens slightly. “I had to sit there and watch it. It was all I could do not to drag him out into the alley and break his goddamn fingers. I should’ve been on that date with you. That should’ve been me.”

“I’m tired of being your second choice, Rafe.” You snap. “I want a boyfriend. I don’t want to sneak around. I don’t want to be the other woman anymore.”

“Don’t you dare throw that in my face.” His voice is soft yet threatening, his fingers tightening around your face even more. “You know it’s more complicated than that. You’re not my second choice, sweetheart, you’re just-.” He sighs, frustrated. “Damn it, sweetheart, you’re just…” He shakes his head. “You’re mine. You belong to me. End of story.”

“Then fucking prove it.” You say. “You want me? You want me to belong to you? Dump Sofia. Dump her right now.”

He’s furious. He grabs your arms, squeezing them hard. “I don’t know how many times I need to tell you, I can’t yet.” He hisses, pulling you closer to him. “I can’t get rid of her until I’m ready, alright?”

“I’m not going to wait that long.” You say.

Your phone vibrates on the dining table, a phone call from JJ.

Rafe groans under his breath, his eyes darting to your phone just a few feet away. “Don’t.” He says, his grip on your arms tightening. “Don’t you pick that up.”

Your face falls slightly. “I’m not waiting around forever, Rafe. I’m not going to sit here and just hope that one day you’ll want me.”

He groans again, his grip on you bruising. “God damn it, I want you now.” He says, pulling you so close against him that you’re practically pushed flush against his chest. “I promise I’m going to break up with her, I promise, just give me some goddamn time.” His eyes are growing red and bloodshot.

You shake your head, your voice soft when you speak. “I can’t wait that long, Rafe. I won’t. You either have me now, or you don’t have me at all.”

Rafe scoffs, his eyes narrowing. “So what, you’re gonna run off to that dumbass, just because I can’t leave Sofia yet?” His grip tightens again. “Is that it, sweetheart? You’re just gonna toss me aside for some nobody?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” You say softly. 

He lets out a shaky breath, his arms wrapping around you. He buries his face into your neck, pulling you tight against his chest. “You’re supposed to trust me, pretty girl.” He mutters, his voice trembling. “You’re supposed to trust that I’m gonna pick you, that I’m gonna break up with her.”

“I don’t want some of you. I want all of you.” You say. “I don’t want to wait around until you decide to pick me.”

“You’ve got all of me, baby, I promise you.” He mutters into your neck, his arms squeezing you tighter. “I swear to you, you’ve got all of me, I just-.” God, he sounds so desperate, and his eyes are starting to well with tears. “Sweetheart, I need you to trust me, alright? I swear I’m gonna end it with her.”

You shake your head. “Rafe, I’m sorry. I can’t wait around for you anymore.”

He whines, pulling you back by your shoulders so he can look at you. He cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “God damn it, sweetheart, you’re killing me here. Don’t you understand? I need more time--”

His phone rings this time, lighting up from its spot on your dining table.

A call from Sofia.

You take a deep breath. You can do this. “You can either break up with her right now, or you can leave.”

He stares into your eyes, his face growing desperate. He can’t believe this is really happening. He’s going to lose you, he’s going to lose his mind, he’s going to lose the last good thing that ever happened to him. He doesn’t even know what to say.

The phone stops ringing.

You breathe out softly as it starts ringing again. “Choose, Rafe. Sofia or me. You can’t have both anymore. It’s not fair to me or her.”

He’s desperate, and panicked. He’s losing you. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he loses you. He whines again, the ring of the phone still echoing through your apartment. He doesn’t have time to think about it.

He slams his lips against yours, kissing you heatedly, passionately, desperately.

You pull away. “No, Rafe. Fucking pick something for once in your goddamned life.”

His hands are shaking as he grabs your shoulders. His breathing is shaky as he tries to pull you in for another kiss, but you won’t let him. He looks so desperate, his eyes full of panic as he stares into yours. His phone starts ringing again and finally, he slams his palm down against your dining table, the sound loud and harsh. “I-“ He pants, his voice strained. “I choose you, pretty girl. Alright?” He reaches over and picks up the phone, putting it up to his ear.

You’re honestly a little surprised. You were certain he was going to pick Sofia. You reach out and grab his free hand, rubbing your thumb against his palm. He’s still wearing that blue sweater.

He swallows, standing up straighter and gripping your hand. “Hey, So-.” He’s interrupted, Sofia’s muffled voice ringing through the phone. She sounds annoyed, maybe even a little angry. Rafe’s expression grows even more desperate as he listens to her talking, his fingers squeezing around yours almost painfully. 

Finally, Sofia stops talking. Rafe’s quiet for a long moment, swallowing hard again as he takes a long, deep breath. “Oh. Um, yeah, Sofia, about that-” He pauses again as she speaks through the phone. He swallows again, his eyes beginning to tear up as his voice breaks. “Actually, I think we should break up, I-.” More talking from Sofia, longer this time, sounding even more pissed. Rafe grimaces, biting his lip as his fingers squeeze yours even tighter.

You step forward, reaching out and wrapping your hand around his bicep, squeezing it softly, a silent sign of support.

Rafe’s eyes flick over to you, a little surprised you’re still willing to be this close to him, but he looks relieved, his eyes growing glassy and even more desperate as he stares into yours. He nods, his voice still trembling as he tries to respond to what Sofia is saying. “No, I mean it, Sofia… I’m serious, it’s over… because I- I’m actually- I’m seeing someone else.”

You squeeze his bicep again.

He closes his eyes, swallowing hard, his whole body tense and on edge. He’s never been in a situation like this before. Sofia says something else, her voice louder through the phone. Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair, shaking his head, trying to keep his composure. “No, Sofia, I- I’m not doing this shit anymore. I’m in love with her, alright? I’ve been seeing her for months now, and I’m in love with her… and I can’t keep doing all this. I’m sorry.”

You hear Sofia screaming at him before she hangs up. Rafe tosses his phone onto the table. A soft squeak leaves your mouth when he suddenly hugs you, burying his face in your neck.

You hug him back, rubbing his back as he starts to cry. “Rafe, honey, it’s okay.”

He hugs you so damn tight. His shoulders are shaking, his breathing shallow and desperate. “Please, god…” He mutters, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Sweetheart, please don’t leave me. God dammit, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I put you through that, please don’t leave me. I need you, sweet girl. I need you.” His voice is soft and trembling into your ear as he whispers.

“I’m not leaving.” You say softly, rubbing his back. “I’ll call JJ tomorrow and let him down easy. I’m not going anywhere. You have me.”

Rafe squeezes you tighter. He’s scared, his breathing still shaky, his grip like iron. “Promise me.” He whispers, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your skin between each word. “Please, please promise me. Promise me you’re staying with me. Promise me you aren’t going anywhere, that you won’t leave me. Please.”

“I promise.” You say, over and over, as many times as he needs. You gently take his face in your hands, wiping away some of his tears.

He lets you wipe away his tears, the shaking in his shoulders lessening. He keeps his face close to yours, his arms still wrapped around you. He nuzzles his nose against yours gently, leaning his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes. “Thank you.” He mutters, his voice still trembling, barely audible. “Thank you, baby. You’re not leaving me. You’re still staying with me. You’re still mine.” His hand lifts to gently cup your cheek.

You kiss him, gently at first. He lets you lead the kiss. It’s gentle, and soft, and tender, he just wants to feel your lips on his, needs to feel them against his. But after a moment, his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer, wanting more, needing more. His lips move against yours more hungrily now. You eagerly match the hungry pace.

You shiver as his hands travel down from your waist to your lower back, then to your ass, grabbing and squeezing it. There’s a new desperation in his kiss, in his grip, in his whole being. It’s like you’ve finally gotten through to him, finally broken through the bullshit and made him realize just how much he needs you. He eagerly picks you up, and you let him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you into your bedroom.

The bed squeaks as he throws you down onto it. Rafe kneels at the end of it, grabbing your ankles and tugging you towards him. He’s quick to remove your tights and your skirt. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna be a good boy.”

“You are a good boy.” You say gently as you lift your hips. He slides the tights all the way down, kissing up your legs.

Rafe groans, loving the way you call him ‘good boy.’ You can feel the smile that spreads across his lips as he kisses along your legs. He kisses his way up your thighs, stopping to bite at your skin, leaving behind bruises.  He reaches your hips, yanking down your panties and tossing them away. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. He looks up, meeting your eyes. “You’re so pretty, baby.”

You bite your lip. "Are you sure you want to do this?”

Rafe nods, moving his hands to grip your hips. “I'm sure. I want this.” His voice is firm, filled with determination. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before trailing his lips higher. He nuzzles against your cunt, inhaling deeply. “Fuck...you smell so good.”

He parts your folds with his fingers, revealing how wet you already are for him. He licks his lips hungrily before diving in, his tongue lapping at your slit eagerly. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp and arch off the bed. His hands grip your hips tighter, holding you in place as he eats you out like a starving man. “Mmmm...so fuckin' sweet,” he mumbles between long licks.

A moan escapes your lips, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure courses through your body. “Oh god, Rafe…” You pant, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Fuck…”

Rafe growls low in his throat. He doubles his efforts, his tongue delving deeper, swirling around your clit. He sucks on it gently, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. He pinches and tugs at the hard peaks, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core as you squeal, squirming underneath him.

“Look at you. So responsive,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Gonna make you come so hard, baby.” His nose nudges against your clit as he tongues your entrance. You squeal, your back arching off of the bed. You reach up and tug on one of your nipples, your pussy gushing on his face.

Rafe laps up your juices greedily, his tongue thrusting inside you, fucking your dripping cunt. He moans at the taste of you, more turned on than ever. He reaches down with one hand, unbuckling his belt. His cock throbs in his slacks and he can’t take it anymore, edging closer to your legs. Caught up in the smell, taste, and feel of you, he starts to hump your calf, his thighs squeezing your leg to steady it. He moans into your cunt, pulling away from your little clit for only a second before latching back on.

He continues to suck and nibble on your clit while finger-fucking you roughly, plunging two digits deep into your tight cunt. “You're so fuckin' wet for me, baby,” he grunts, breaking the seal from your pussy to speak. “Love eating this sweet cunt.” 

Your toes curl. “You didn't ask if you could hump me, baby.” Normally Rafe is always the dominant one, using you like a personal fuck toy, but with his face buried between your legs and his cock rubbing up against your calf, you feel like taking charge.

Rafe whines, stopping his hips. “Baby, fuck, please let me hump you! It feels so good, eating you out feels so fucking good.” His breath is hot against your slick folds, his tongue darting out to lap at your juices, savoring the flavor of you. He gazes up at you, sucking your clit directly into his mouth.

Your back arches deliciously, and you nod. “You can hump me, baby. Make yourself feel good.”

With a relieved groan, Rafe resumes humping your leg, his thick cock sliding against your skin through his pants. He rocks his hips faster, the friction driving him wild. His tongue never leaves your clit, continuing to swirl and suckle the sensitive bundle of nerves. “You like watching me hump you, don't you?” he rasps, his voice strained. “Seeing me lose control because of you... Fuck, I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” You moan, hips bucking in his face. “Good boy. Keep going.”

Hearing you call him ‘good boy’, Rafe lets out a satisfied grunt. He increases his pace, his hips rocking against your leg even harder. He continues to lick and suck on your clit, driving you crazy with pleasure. He can feel himself getting close, his balls tightening and his cock throbbing. “God, baby, I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum!” he warns, his voice shaky with anticipation. “Cum with me, please!”

Rafe's warning turns into a guttural moan as he finally loses control. His hips jerk erratically, grinding his clothed erection against your leg as he orgasms. Thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, soaking through his pants and staining your skin. At the same time, he sucks your clit into his mouth, his tongue working overtime to bring you to climax alongside him.

As the waves of pleasure subside, he slowly pulls away, licking his lips clean of your essence. He climbs up onto the bed next to you, his eyes glazed with satisfaction and adoration. “I love you. I love you so much,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You're so fucking hot when you cum for me. Such a good girl.”

“I love you too,” You say, grabbing him and pulling him closer.

He looks down at his slacks, soaked and covered with cum. He hums, reaching up and cupping your face. “Do you wanna clean me up, baby?”

You take a deep breath, a small smile gracing your face. “Yeah.”

Rafe grins, climbing up to lean against the headboard as you start to lick the wet spot on his slacks.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

★taglist: @ietss, @loves0phelia, @drewsphswife, @pillowprincess4him, @maybankslover, @theeternaloptimistt, @jumpme300, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @matthewswifeeee, @katekells, @writtenbyhollywood, @starkeyslove, @emluvsbunnies, @bunnystuffsworld, @xbrookxsstuff, @emeloyy, italics mean i couldn't tag you! x

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[x-ghostslovie-x]

Teddy Bear

Logan Howlett x Fem Reader

I am so obsessed with this man, and there is nothing healthy about it. 🫠

I haven't really written anything in a while. This is also my first time writing for Logan at all. I tried to write for the Deadpool 3 version of him (as I'm obsessed with this one the most), but it might be a little bit ooc 🩷

Logan had just got back from a mission with Wade. Wade burst through the door calling dibs on the shower first. Logan rolls his eyes slightly before plopping down on the couch next to you, pulling you into his lap.

“Hey baby, I take it the mission went well.” You ask placing your bookmark in the book you were just reading before gently chucking it on the coffee table.

“Hey bub, it went alright. Did what we went to do”

“That's great. I made some food earlier if you're hungry. It's not much just a chicken ricey thing my mom used to make for me. It's sort of become a comfort food in a way.”

Logan's eyebrows knitted in confusion “you doing ok darlin?”

“Oh yeah I'm good, don't worry. I was just missing you as well as being a bit bored earlier so I made food.”

“As long as you're ok” he says before kissing your forehead.

“How you doin' Lo?”

“I'm alright sweetheart. Waiting for that shithead to get the fuck out the shower.”

You chuckle softly. “I love when you act like a grumpy teddy bear”

“The fuck you talkin about?”

"Well for starters you are grumpy 99% of the time as well as being very cuddly like a teddy and what can I say. Grumpy old men that are secretly soft teddy bears are my weakness." Tapping his nose softly with your finger.

Logan lets out a huff "I ain't a fuckin teddy bear bub."

"Sure you are." Cupping his cheek, "you're my old man bear."

Logan rolled his eyes, scoffing in a whatever kinda way, before leaning a little into your hand.

A couple minutes go by, and Logan asks after standing up, still holding you. You wrap yourself around him even though you know he won't drop you “Ok I'm gonna get a fuckin drink. You want one?”

“Sure thing Lo.”

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[c0ffinshit]

Reach Down (Simon [John Q.] x Reader) SMUT

a/n: hey guys, sorry this project is so rushed. i wanted to get something out since i haven't written anything in a hot minute. so i still hope you like it either way.

word count: 1,391

credit for the idea: @digitalpup444

warning: some poor grammer and spelling, porn with little plot, choking, priase/slight degradation kink, fingering with cunnilingus, dialogue heavy

You were never a huge music fan, and never considered yourself a fan of any given band. Because of this, you never got the hype of band worship, the idea of taking an average person and putting them on the highest level to the point where if they ruin that even slightly their career is over for good. 

That is until you got into the punk band PSYOPS. When the obsession hit, it hit like a bus. Suddenly, you were going to underground shows in gross basements and old warehouses. You were taking old shirts and cutting them up to put custom patches on them. You closely followed the band’s forums, trying to figure out their next show. Of course, the band knew of your existence.  It didn’t take long for you to end up in his truck, talking about what it was like being in a band. As you two talked, you felt a strong pull towards him. He liked making punk music and taking down the big man with lyrics. Toward the end of the car ride, he lit his second cigarette of the night and took off the mask as he pulled up to a house.

You always preferred John Q whenever talking about favorite band members. Something about never seeing his face drew you in him. What did he look like under that ski mask? Who was John Q? But when you finally saw his face covered in sweat from the show a shrug ran through you.

"What?" He asks, opening the driver side’s door to the truck, and shutting it with a thud.

You snap out of your daze for a minute, enough time to open your door and then shut it. "Nothing, don’t worry about it."

He glares at you, flicking his cigarette and pressing it under his boot. "Alright." 

He opens the house’s main door and leads you to his room, which looks like it hasn’t been cleaned. John flops onto his bed and groans loudly. You look around his room, slowly inching into his room. 

He notes this and sits up, watching you stare around his room. "Are you going to sit down? You look tired as fuck."

Your eyes flicker back to him. His boots are placed firmly on the ground and his forearms are just above his knees. It’s oddly sexy how he sits. Then again, he was handsome in general. 

"No, "You finally reply. "I’m fine, I promise."

John tilts his head back, smirking, and stands in your way. "You sure? You look…" His eyes look you up and down. "Tense."

You shake your head. "No, I’m fine. I’m just a big fan of your work and I don’t want to mess anything up-"

"Fuck off. You’re not ruining anything. You’re fine." He steps closer. "I mean that. You’re fine."

He eyes you up again, watching your hands hold each other. Your face slowly rushes with blood as he talks. Most critics would say that he speaks because he likes the sound of his voice, but honestly, it didn’t matter to you; you could listen to him talk for hours about whatever he wanted.

"Are you hitting on me?" You said, taking your hands apart. He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me closer.

"Do you blame me? I’ve been hitting on you the whole night. " His face comes closer and you place your hands on his shoulders.

"Well, are you going to do something about it?"

"Do you want me to?" He asks, moving one of his hands to hold my chin.

A quick nod of your head and he pulls you in for a kiss. At first, his mouth tastes like licking an ashtray, but as his tongue snakes into your mouth, a faint of cheap beer covers your tongue. Your hands shake as they move up to hold his face. His other hand moves down to your ass, pushing you into his hips. His erection pressed against his thigh as you softly moaned into his mouth. John pulls away for a second, his lips covered in your saliva.

"Take off your shirt." He rushes out as he takes off his jacket.

Once you saw his shirt on the floor, you could feel yourself getting more excited.

You giggle and sloppily take off your shirt. His smirk returns to his face as he looks at your breasts.

"Such a good girl and such a cute bra. May I?" His hand ghosts over your bare skin, running his fingers along the lines of your body.

"Please," You whisper and his hands rush to squeeze at them.

His hands felt rough against your skin. You let parts of your body shine in the lamp near his bed. John’s tan but pale skin was dull and flat, yet was striking against your skin. You let out a small moan as his hands moved lower down your body.

"Take off those pants and get on the bed." He commands in a breathy yet dominant tone.

Your hands push the button and pull at the zipper of your jeans, revealing the cutest pair of the panties you own. Embarrassment sets into your face as you rush onto the bed. John smiles as his eyes look into yours.

"Fuck, you are so cute. For such a good girl, I didn’t think you’d be this much of a needy whore."

You giggle again at the compliment but stop as he slowly crawls onto the bed and in between your legs.

His eyes are dark as he kisses down your left thigh; every kiss is a small noise. "You doing alright?" He places his hand on your body. 

A low groan of approval leaves your mouth. He smirks a little as his hand continues to roam and his mouth continues to move downwards. "Good." 

He would’ve never figured you would be so sensitive. You lean forward and kiss his head, causing him to look up. He finally looks at you again, his first glance in a while. His hair was slowly starting to stick to his forehead. John has one of those stares that makes you shiver and squirm in your seat with pleasure. His face comes down to your throbbing heat, a small patch of slick waiting for him.

"Exicited were we?" He said with a small chuckle, kissing it right on the patch.

It was things like that that sent shivers up your spine. His fingers hook around the lining of your panties, slowly pulling them down. This was the most vulnerable you had been in a while.

"Before we start, can you do something for me, baby?"

A quick nods and he continues, his tone more hushed. "Call me Simon."

Before you can even process his request, Simon groans as his tongue snakes up your clit. At first, Lorne went slow, teasingly licking at your clit. But soon enough, Simon’s fingers were slowly entering your vagina. You looked down at his dark eyes, his tongue flicking at your clit; the lamp reflecting in his eyes. 

Going deeper into your pussy, goosebumps crawled up your skin. Your back arched. Suddenly, he stopped. His mouth pops from your vulva. You try to grab at his greasy brown hair, but end up pushing his head back down to your cunt. He started slowly; his tongue felt so good around your clit with every gentle, rough lick, and suck; you could feel myself growing weaker. He was licking and sucking, and the pit in your stomach grew tighter each second. He smelled of cheap beer, cigarettes, and old sweat. With each curl and press of his fingers in your pussy, your stomach swelled in pleasure. He looked up at me and his eyes looked as if he was smiling, which made you melt. You push your vulva more in his mouth and he lets out a low growl, making the pleasure more intense. 

Soon enough, your hot cum was dripping from his mouth and down his chin. When he finally poked his head back up, his smile was a sight for sore eyes.

"God, I’m surprised you were that quiet, still, such a good girl for me. So proud of you."

"It’s not about the sounds." You reply. "But it's about body language. At this moment, you have no idea how good I feel right."

[slytherinshua]

YOU'RE WORTH IT

genre. fluff. period comfort. warnings. it's mentioned that reader had a toxic ex. anton and reader haven't been dating for too long. mentions of cramps and general period stuff but no blood. kissing. pairing. anton x fem!reader. wc. 981. request. no. a/n. written for @eternalgyu who is suffering :( i hope this helps even a little <33

“Are you sure this is… normal?” Anton questioned a little worried from the other side of the bed. You winced, not only from the excruciating pain you were experiencing, but the sudden guilt that hit you. Maybe you should have tried a little harder to keep your ‘ow’s from distracting your boyfriend from his work.

“Yeah, it’s normal— don’t worry.” You waved him off and rolled to your side so your back faced him, fighting back the tears that started to prick at your eyes. Was it normal for cramps to be this painful?

“Can I do anything to help?” Anton’s voice reached your ear again, this time a lot closer than before. He was peering over your curled up body with concern written on his face. Your face softened a little, and a little of the fear of being annoying washed away with Anton’s look.

Your ex-boyfriend had been… less than understanding whenever you got your period. He always complained about you bothering him or “bringing the mood down” whenever you couldn’t bring yourself to be your usual bright self. He seemed disgusted at even the thought of it and would constantly blame any normal frustration towards him on your period, even when you weren’t on it.

Months of that had quickly trained your brain to be self-conscious of it. You knew it was all normal, of course, but you had started trying to hide the fact that you were on your period whenever you could; almost as if it didn’t exist entirely. 

Even admitting to Anton that it was your time of the month made you want to sink into the floor and disappear. You had expected him to be disgusted or confused or weirded out, but he wasn’t. Instead, he offered to go to the store to get anything you might need, which you politely refused— too embarrassed to make him go out of his way.

You shook your head, “I don’t want you to inconvenience yourself.”

Anton looked at you like you were crazy, “Inconvenience myself? But you’re the one in pain.” 

You diverted your eyes from his, unsure what to do in this situation. Your brain was racing a mile a minute, too hesitant to accept his offer in case it backfired later. But Anton wasn’t that kind of person, right?

“And, besides, you’re worth any amount of inconvenience. I promise.” He persuaded gently. 

“Okay.” You mumbled out. Anton smiled, his eyes crinkling before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I heard heating pads can help, right?” You could barely answer before he was rushing off to warm one up, and back before you knew it, placing it carefully on your stomach. The heat did feel nice against the pain, but it didn’t make it go away entirely. Anton seemed to notice when your eyes scrunched up as another painful cramp hit you.

“Is it not helping?” His voice came out softer than usual, a touch of anxiousness lacing his question. He was studying your face carefully, giving you his full attention. You weren’t used to someone being so patient with you.

“It is, but I don’t think there’s any way to make them go away entirely. I have to just wait it out.” You said quietly.

Anton frowned, “That’s not fair.”

His comment made you smile slightly, “It’s okay.”

“Is there anything else I can help with?” 

“Distraction?” You suggested, a little skeptical whether it would actually work, but it was worth a shot. 

“Hmm.” Anton thought for a second, giving you a glance before diving forward and capturing your lips without warning. You squeaked slightly from the shock before allowing yourself to focus on the feeling of his soft lips and less on the pain of your cramps. It was pretty effective, if you were being honest. It was easy for your brain to only focus on his lips and nothing else. But there was one problem: you didn’t have unlimited breath.

You pulled apart slightly breathless, and as soon as you didn’t have the distraction to focus on, you were hit with another painful cramp that had you whimpering and sinking deeper into the mattress. Your arms were still around Anton’s neck, clasped at the back, and you brought him down with you.

He shifted to the side quickly before he crashed on top of you and turned so he was facing you again. You were almost sure he would be sick of trying to think of ways to help after 2 attempts, but you were wrong. 

He pulled you closer until you were right up against his chest, safely wrapped around his arms. He tapped on his phone for a couple seconds, clicking on the playlist he had made for you a couple weeks ago. The soft songs on it helped you relax immediately, and you snuggled a bit closer.

“Maybe if you tried falling asleep?” Anton suggested, and you nodded slowly.

Usually it was hard to fall asleep with the pain, but it was surprisingly easy when you were wrapped in Anton’s arms. He started humming quietly along with the music, one of his hands rubbing your back slowly at the same time.

You felt your eyelids droop and finally close entirely. Each time you had a cramp, you would tense up and curl closer to him, and he would hold you just a little bit tighter. Eventually, you were able to fall asleep, and Anton let out a relieved sigh. He hated seeing you in any kind of pain, especially when you seemed so afraid to even tell him about it. 

He knew it would probably take more time for him to earn your complete trust, but he was more than willing to put in the work for it. A little inconvenience on his end was more than worth it. You were more than worth it.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore

[luveline]

I’m on my knees for anything bombshell and spence 🙏🏽 maybe their first real date??? or them working a case after they are officially together

Oh, the misery. 

You and Spencer are supposed to be in a low lit restaurant right now feeding each other spoonfuls of parsnip soup between lovey-dovey eyefuls of one another, legs tangled under the table, your kitten heel scratching against the rubber sole of his converse. 

You're supposed to be dressed to the nines, your shawl fragrant with the vanilla perfume Spencer likes so much, a dress cut to the thigh that shows just a little too much when you lean forward. You're supposed to be kissing like idiots in the back seat of your car. 

“They haven't seen anything this bad since the Creek Killer, and this is two active UnSub's at once, so let's keep that in mind,” Hotch says, nodding to the door for Rossi to follow. He sends you and Spencer a look that may or may not be knowing as he adds, “And keep this professional.” 

“Aren't we professional?” you ask Spencer. 

“No!” Morgan calls, he and Emily already out the door. 

Hotch and Rossi are on crime scene duty. Morgan and Emily the victim's family. JJ will be snapping at the heels of the ravenous media in an attempt to dissuade them from following this case too closely: it's a bad one. Coverage will make it worse. 

You're on theory. There are two halves to your job —analysing past cases with similarities, and scrutinising the details of the current case. What you really want is to be analysing Spencer Reid's stupid hot face, and for his hands to be scrutinising your hips. Or your legs. Or your mouth. 

“I know what you're thinking.” 

You raise your eyebrows at Spencer. “I don't think you do.” 

He laughs, “No, I do.” His tie gets caught under his elbow as he grabs your notebook. “They always give you the worst jobs.”

“That's just not true, Mr. Reid. This is my very favourite job.”  

“Dr. Reid,” Spencer corrects, a smile already playing on his lips in anticipation of your reaction. 

You needle an elbow into his side until he huffs and pulls away. Surrendering. Typical. Displaced air fans your hand as he opens your notebook to a blank page. “We'll start with UnSub commonalities, just as soon as…” he murmurs, his pen scratching across the top line. You can't see past his shoulder. 

“Serials targeting women,” you say immediately. “Likely older, white, male, the usual. Murders are incisive, and disgusting, but the signatures are so different, they can't be– Does the pen not work?” 

Spencer shakes his head, sliding the notebook across the table to you. “Had to do this first.” 

Caveats for perfect first date, Spencer's written, a list with one lonely bullet point. Me and you together. 

You shouldn't be surprised. It's really not unlike him to be sweet, but this is alarmingly confident. I'm gonna eat him, you think, looking up with a smirk that turns soft at the sight of him. His cheeks are marbling with red flush, hair in his eyes as he stares anywhere but you. 

“Spence, are you blushing?” you ask fondly. 

“Don't be upset about tonight,” he murmurs, ignoring you with a hint of worry to his tone. “I know it's not what you wanted, but I– we can still go, when we're home–” 

You press your lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile. “Yeah, we can still go, but you're right, Spence. You are. This is as good a place as any. 'N' I can make any date perfect.” 

Your joke rescues him from the depths of mortification. He clears his throat, says, “Exactly. But we should get back to the list.” 

He takes your hand under the table, long fingers sewn between yours.

[rainyorca]

would you take, “let me talk you through it” as a rq 😭😪

Given I haven't had much time to write these past few days, got hit with a bad storm and lost power, so here's this as a little filler before I get back to work on the longer stuff. However do keep in mind my requests are still closed!!

cw: F!reader, MDNI, cowgirl, established relationship, implied first time.

Please don't mind the mistakes or overall messiness.

The night bleeds through the open windows, early hours of morning present on the screen of the clock situated on the nightstand. Outside the air is cool, seeping into the crack of the singular opened window. City lights sparkle in the crisp air, their faint light illuminating the dark environment of the room. 

It’s quiet, the buzzing sound of silence fills the space, quiet enough for the crashing waves to be heard. However, heard just faintly above the roaring ocean is breathing, emitting from the chilly bedroom. 

Lips wet with spit, kiss-bitten and sore, flaring red. The heat of your bodies seemingly fighting against the coldness of the room. Kenji’s hair, messy, few strands sticking to his forehead, parting his lips while he breathes quietly. His chest slicked and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. The look of pleasure written all over his face, the taste of euphoria on his tongue. 

His hands are on the curve of your waist, large against your bare body, feeling up your torso like he’s trying to memorize every dip and slope of your figure. 

Your hips are nestled on top of his, panties soaked through with your arousal, his furiously twitching against yours, a visible stain forming on his pants. “C’mon,” he coos, his hands sliding down, thumbs hooking under the waistband of his sweats, “you gonna ride me? Hm? Like my good girl?” 

HIs words make you hiss, halting your movements. You lift your hips, batting his hands away and then tugging down his sweatpants as well as his boxers, his cock springing to attention. A sudden nervousness comes over you, the sight makes you not only shake with anticipation but with worry. Worry for what, you couldn't quite tell.

He says your name, sickeningly sweet on his lips, making you look up at him. He nearly groans when your eyes meet his, the innocence in them about to be fucked away. “My love,” he purrs, rubbing a large hand on your bare thigh, “lift your hips f’me, baby.” 

You swallow, adjusting yourself so you are hovering right above him, moving your panties to the side while you tentatively roll your hips against his leaking tip. He reaches up, grabbing your hips to hold you steady, excitement pooling in his stomach, clouding his eyes. 

“You can do it,” he hums, watching you hesitate, “it’ll only hurt for a bit, but then you’ll feel really good, I promise.” You slowly ease down on him, a quiet squeak slips off your lips as you feel him spread you open, tears starting to sting in your eyes. He hums, trying to keep his eyes from rolling back in his skull as he watches you take him in. 

“F-Fuck,” he practically whimpers when your bodies finally meet, the feeling of your plush walls wrapping around his length. You lean forward a bit, pressing a hand on his chest to brace yourself. 

When he feels you try to move he digs his nails into the fat of your hip. “Careful, you don't have to rush things, just move when you're ready,” he grunts, staring up at your scrunched up face. The way he looks at you makes your stomach churr, your walls clench, and he can feel it. 

“O-Okay,” you stutter, the pain slowly subsiding as you start to grind against him, occasionally lifting your hips just slightly. It doesn't take long until you're picking up pace, whimpers and moans spilling from your filthy mouth. “Atta girl,” he groans, “what a good girl.” 

His words make you shudder, your thighs shaking with each lift of your hips. “Doing so good, pretty girl,” he hums, having a hard time keeping his composure, “you got it, you don't need my help.” 

Your other hand reaches out for him, and he meets it with his own hand, curling his fingers, holding your hand while you ride him. It's overwhelming for him, your soft moans, how your face is controted in pleasure, drool more than likely threatening to spill from your lips.

“Just like that, baby,” he breathes, his short nails pressing crescent shaped marks into your warm skin, “shit…”

“Ken—Kenji,” you whimper, taking your hand off his chest so you could rub quick circles on your clit. “Oh fuck,” he blurts suddenly, surpised by your sudden actions, “fuck–I love it when you do that, love it when you touch yourself.” 

The tears welling up in your eyes start to slide down your reddened cheeks, mouth open, letting all that pent up arousal spill out past your lips. His name never leaves your mind, and eventually it's all you can think of. That sudden white heat flashes over your eyes, your stomach tightening. 

“Im–” you start, unable to even finish your sentence, “Kenji, fuck. I think…..”

He smiles, “you can do it, just hold on a little longer–”

Unable to keep rubbing your clit, your wrist starting to cramp, you lean forward again, gripping onto the headboard, digging your nails into the hard material. That heat breaks into you, your orgasm splashing over you in colors, bright and blinding. 

You cry out his name, legs buckling as you ride yourself out on him, his own orgasm painting your walls with a hoarse moan. “Holy shit,” he gasps, squeezing your hand, “let it all out f’me baby.”

When your orgasm settles, you let go of the headboard, body slumping down onto his as you try to recover from your orgasm. He rubs your back, placing gentle kisses on whatever skin is available to him. “You did so good,” he rasps, “such a good girl, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[weirdkpopgirl]

Type of Boyfriends | Dream Headcanon #15

Headcanon: Type of Boyfriends

Genre: Fluff, a little angsty in some parts

Warnings: light mentions of anxiety and feeling insecure

Word Count: ~2.7k

Author's Note: I was actually planning on writing something for Haechan today. But I had the content for this headcanon pre-planned for quite some time now, so I just thought it would be good to actually write it. Also, I haven't been making a lot of group posts lately—so this is me making up for it lol. I know this idea isn't super original, but I wanted to make my version of it. I'm sorry if the scenarios are written badly, but I still thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

mark

Mark is the type of boyfriend who feels like your best friend but with the added warmth of kisses and hugs. He loves taking you on spontaneous midnight drives, where carpool karaoke becomes your shared stage, belting out your favorite tunes together. Music is a big part of your relationship, with shared Spotify playlists that reflect your combined tastes and moments. Whenever you’re feeling down, he grabs his guitar and serenades you with Bruno Mars or Day6 songs, lifting your spirits with his husky yet gentle voice. He’s also the type of boyfriend who writes songs about you, with lyrics so touching they bring you to tears.

He’s the type of boyfriend who attempts to cook for you but ultimately results in a comedy of errors. But they always end in laughter as you step in to save the kitchen from further disaster. His cooking skills would likely improve over time, with your guidance. You’d patiently be teaching him the proper way to cut vegetables or how much seasoning should be put in a dish. But he’s the type of boyfriend to lose focus because he keeps getting distracted by how pretty you look. And then you’d blush profusely when you caught his gaze and scold him for not listening.

He’s the type of boyfriend to give you bone-crushing hugs whenever he finds something you did cute. He especially does this when you get annoyed at him for something, finding the furrow of your brows and pouty lips to be so adorable. He’s the type to go in for long kisses after being away from you for a long time. His career often keeps him away, leaving him longing for the moments he can be with you. He’s the type of boyfriend to give kisses that are so warm and tender, filled with a depth of emotion that speaks volumes about how much he cherishes you. Each kiss feels like a promise, a reassurance that no matter how far apart you are, his heart is always with you.

He’s the type of boyfriend who would geek out with you over shared interests, like Spiderman. Whether it's discussing the latest movie or comic book, these moments of shared enthusiasm bring you even closer. He’s the type of boyfriend who would watch k-dramas with you and enjoy ranting with you about the characters. These shared experiences, filled with laughter, debates, and discussions deepen your bond and create fond memories to look back on.

All in all, Mark is the type of boyfriend who is a unique blend of friendship, romance, and genuine affection that makes him the perfect partner, someone who brings joy, music, and a sense of adventure into your life.

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renjun

Renjun is the type of boyfriend to be motherly at times with how attentive and caring he is. He’s always looking after you in subtle ways, like telling you the weather beforehand so you know to wear a jacket before your date. When you share your insecurities with him, he responds by creating beautiful paintings or drawings of you, turning your worries into art. He's also the type to blush when you compliment him but cleverly turns the praise back on you, making you feel just as flustered.

He’s the type of boyfriend who loves planning and sharing things with you, like maintaining a shared Pinterest board of matching couple outfits you both should try. He’s the type to enjoy doing your skincare routines together during sleepovers, transforming these moments into intimate bonding experiences. He has a great sense of style and is the type of boyfriend who helps put together your outfits, and even learns how to style your hair to make sure you feel confident and beautiful. He’s also the type of boyfriend to patiently untangle your earphones when you get frustrated trying to do it yourself.

He’s the type of boyfriend to be deeply empathetic and share his concerns with you, valuing open communication in your relationship. He’s not afraid to show his emotions, and he tears up when he hears about your hard times, feeling your pain as his own. His thoughtful nature ensures you always feel understood and supported. When he’s the one dealing with hardships, he appreciates you just being there to hug him and talk him through his thoughts. No matter what’s troubling him, your presence alone makes him feel a little better.

He’s the type of boyfriend who may not be as physically affectionate as the other members. Though he doesn't kiss you often, it’s always behind closed doors when he does. Similar to Mark, he’s the type of boyfriend whose kisses are long, deep, and sincere, filled with unspoken affection and love. But he’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you with pecks to the lips when he finds you cute.

Ultimately, Renjun is the type of boyfriend who truly cares for you in every way, creating a relationship built on mutual respect, understanding, and deep emotional connection. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know how much he loves you, you can just feel it whenever you look at him.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇ jeno

Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is the perfect balance between a strong, masculine presence and a soft, affectionate soul in your relationship. He’s the type to exude a protective aura that envelops you where you go. When you're out together, his hand naturally finds its place on your back or waist, ensuring your safety and comfort. He's attentive to small details like positioning you on his left side, away from the street, and readily offering his jacket when the weather turns chilly. These gestures not only showcase his protective instincts but also his possessive side, reminding you and others that you’re his.

He’s the type of boyfriend to keep you on your toes with how affectionate he can be. You never truly know what to expect from him. Sometimes, he surprises you with kisses so deeply passionate that they leave you breathless. Yet, in quieter moments, he transforms into a cuddly sweetheart, speaking in an endearing aegyo voice that melts your heart. His spontaneity and ability to switch between these sides of himself add excitement and tenderness to your relationship.

He’s the type of boyfriend who enjoys taking you on hiking dates, emphasizing how it’s good for your health. However, if you get tired by the end of it, he's quick to offer you a piggyback ride on the journey back, effortlessly blending his strength with his nurturing nature. He’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you by cleaning the apartment and preparing a warm meal for you after a long day of school or work. His thoughtfulness shines through in these acts of service, making you feel cherished and loved in practical ways.

He’s the type of boyfriend to be a compassionate listener who values your thoughts and feelings deeply. When you share your concerns or discuss something that's bothering you, he listens intently, his touch gentle as he traces comforting patterns on your hand. His ability to offer silent support and understanding strengthens your bond, creating a safe space where you can be vulnerable and open with each other. 

In essence, Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is a partner that fills your life with love and security. Being with him will make you feel like you’re stuck in the honeymoon phase forever.

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haechan 

Haechan is the type of boyfriend who thrives on affection, often expressing his neediness in the sweetest ways. He’s the type to never let you leave without a goodbye kiss, ensuring every parting moment is filled with warmth and connection. Whether in public or private, he shamelessly snuggles into you, finding comfort and security in your presence. He is the type to be playfully insistent on using pet names like "baby," "sunflower," or "handsome." He brightens up when you call him by his nickname "Hyuck," revealing his softer, more vulnerable side that's reserved just for you. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to enjoy teasing and banter, but knows when to set aside the jokes and be serious, especially when it matters the most to you. He’s the type to notice if something is upsetting you, even in a group of people. And he’d go out of his way to check on you to make sure everything was okay. He’s also the type of boyfriend to playfully beg you to cook his favorite dishes like kimchi jjigae, which you almost always give in to. 

He’s the type of boyfriend who includes you in his world, whether it’s letting you sit in his lap while he games on his PC or charming you with aegyo when he wants a kiss. Even during your toughest moments, his infectious humor never fails to make you laugh or smile. But on a more serious side, he’s the type of boyfriend who gets overwhelmed by how strong his feelings are for you. Just thinking about how much he loves you is enough to make him tear up. 

At the end of the day, Haechan is the type of boyfriend who is not afraid to be playful, and affectionate, and show how deep his feelings are for you. His ability to balance lighthearted moments with genuine sincerity makes every day with him an adventure filled with laughter, love, and heartfelt connections.

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jaemin 

Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is a walking green flag, embodying all the qualities of a loving and considerate partner. He never holds back his affection, constantly showering you with hugs and kisses, and always maintaining some form of physical connection, whether it’s hand-holding or resting a hand on your knee. He’s the type of boyfriend to send daily texts to check up on you if he’s at work, showing his continuous care and concern for your well-being. He’s also the type to scold you for skipping meals or getting sick, even when he does the same sometimes.

He’s the type of boyfriend to shamelessly flirt with you, making you blush with his playful comments and cheeky smirks when he catches you staring at him from across the room. He’s the type to talk about your future together during cuddle sessions, sharing your dreams of getting married and having kids. Beyond physical touches and sweet words, he’s the type of boyfriend who loves to cook for you whenever he can, and he gets equally happy when you cook for him, appreciating every gesture of care you show.

He’s the type of boyfriend who is generally easygoing, though he has his moments of jealousy. He gets laughably envious when you give more attention to his cats than him or when you rave about how Jeno looked on stage. These moments of jealousy are never overbearing but rather endearing, showing how much he values your attention and affection. And he loves that you always reassure him that your heart belongs to him. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to take countless photos of you on your dates. Even if you don’t love having your photo taken, he just can’t resist capturing your beauty. Besides, he insists it's for the memories to look back on when you two are old and fray. He’s the type to have his phone gallery filled with pictures of you, and he proudly shows them to his members from time to time. While you could point out all your flaws in one picture, Jaemin never even looked at them. No matter how insecure you might be, he’s the type of boyfriend to make you feel pretty.

Simply put, Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is practically perfect with his unwavering support and daily reminders of his love. Being in a relationship with him is nurturing, fun, and filled with dreams for the future.

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chenle 

Chenle is the type of boyfriend who can be really annoying at times, but you can’t help but love him for it. He loves to joke around and make you laugh, especially when you're feeling down. When he does something that annoys you, he’s quick to make it up with a lot of hugs, using affection to win you over. Most of the time, you end up giving into his silliness and laughing with him. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to buy gifts for you quite often, something you kind of had to get used to. He’s the type to surprise you with things he’s seen you admiring online or at a store. Even if you scold him for not saving his money or spending it more wisely, Chenle insists that as your boyfriend, it’s part of his job to spoil you. 

He’s also the type of boyfriend to share his passions with you, whether it’s taking you to see a Warrior’s game or having you watch and cheer him on as he plays basketball. His excitement for these activities becomes even more meaningful when you join in, creating shared experiences that deepen your bond. He’s also the type of boyfriend who enjoys traveling and exploring new places with you. He loves taking you out, whether it’s to explore the rural areas of Korea to eat gukbap or book a surprise trip to Shanghai. His spontaneous nature keeps your relationship exciting and full of adventure, with each trip creating cherished memories. 

He’s the type of boyfriend who regularly gushes to you about how cute the members are, but gets all shy when you also call him cute. He’s also the type to feel a little betrayed when his dog, Daegal, likes you more than him. However, he can never be sulky for long because he can’t really blame her. And he admires how you always make sure his daughter runs back into his arms.

Altogether, Chenle is the type of boyfriend to keep your life vibrant and full of love with his playfulness, generosity, and genuine care. Although he drives you crazy at times, he teaches you how to have fun and live in the present.

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jisung

Jisung is the type of boyfriend who is super shy in the beginning but gradually becomes more comfortable and open with time. He’s the type to hide behind your back or bury his face in your shirt when he gets embarrassed about something. He’s the type of boyfriend who also loves being taller than you, not in a teasing way, but because it makes him feel more protective. He secretly loves it when you compare the size of your hands, although he blushes every time you do it. 

He’s the type of boyfriend to ramble about his curiosity and interests to you. He enjoys talking about the wonders of space and aliens, letting you into his fascinating world of thoughts. He also loves talking about things like MBTI with you and finds joy in learning about yourselves together. Sometimes, he even rants about his debates with Chenle, showcasing his playful and thoughtful side. 

He’s also the type of boyfriend to have a lot of serious conversations with you, usually reserved for late nights. He’s the type to lay his head in your lap as he shares what is on his mind. The gentle stroking of your fingers through his hair helps him feel calm and at ease. Sometimes he doesn't even need to say anything, for your open arms provide all the comfort he needs. He’s the type of boyfriend who loves when you hug him, often calming down when anxious thoughts run through his head. Cuddles are even better, especially when you get to fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling completely safe and loved.

He’s the type of boyfriend who can be quite sentimental, especially when he’s on tour. He misses you deeply and has been known to cry when he thinks about how much he misses you. These moments highlight his deep emotional connection and attachment to you. He’s also the type to feel incredibly touched when you do simple things like cooking for him or surprising him with bunggeobang on a cold day, appreciating the warmth and love you bring into his life.

Over time, Jisung is the type of boyfriend you can build a deep, emotionally mature relationship. Even if he might be the youngest in his group, his maturity shines when he’s with you. He evolves into a loving and thoughtful boyfriend who cherishes every moment with you.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Loved from afar

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @fuckyeahphelpstwins-blog

Request: “Stalker Fred Weasley”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm sorry that I've been gone for so long. Life problems. I was going to do Kinktober but eventually forgot about it when this lovely request popped up (I haven't checked Tumblr in a while so I'm sorry if it was requested a month or so ago). I feel like I rambled a lot during the first few paragraphs, but I needed to give Fred a real pervy vibe. I was planning on getting it written by Halloween, but I had a crazy week of clowns and witches.

T/W: Stalking (Duh), Fred being a real obsessive and possessive creep, mentions of roofieing (kinda), Stealing, Underwear sniffing,

Fred and George were a team. They had been pulling pranks and getting into trouble together since they were in nappies. Molly even sent them to the naughty corner together (which might not have been one of her best ideas, since they always seemed to fill the house with giggles and whispers). That’s why George was more than worried when Fred started to pull away. When they had a prank planned, Fred would always excuse himself and run off.

Now George might not have been the most attentive student, but he did notice that Fred only excused himself when you were around. The problem was, you didn't seem to notice. If you and Fred had been a thing, maybe you’d have been more talkative when George said hello in the hallway and maybe Fred would have told him about you. But that's just the thing, you and Fred weren't a thing.

That very thought is what kept Fred up most nights. He’d wished upon stars, four leaf clovers, made love potion after love potion to slip into your drink at dinner, but nothing. He knows the love potions didn’t work because he made them himself, but it's not like he could ask Hermione or Harry to make him one. Asking comes with an explanation.

Fred just couldn't give up. Every little glance filled him with hope. That one time when you were both paired together for a potions project, he kept palming himself under the desk. He’d lean in and catch a whiff of your shampoo, making some excuse about how the fumes made him a little dizzy. He couldn't believe his luck when you just looked the other way. He had never cum in his boxers before, but he didn't change them. In his eyes, it was proof that you had an effect on him. Like a badge of honour.

You didn’t think much of Fred’s behaviour. Being dizzy in potions class is understandable. The way he seemed transfixed when talking to you, maybe he was just a great listener. Those little things that went missing, normal forgetfulness.

Fred would never openly admit to stealing. But the things of yours that he took, he wasn't stealing. You were his girl, he was just borrowing your things. The way a girl would borrow ‘steal’ her boyfriend's Quidditch jersey (he had tried on multiple occasions to offer it to you to wear). He kept that drawer in his bedroom enchanted for a reason. Inside were pens, a scrunchie, a piece of crumpled paper with some scribbles on, and a few strands of hair tied together with an elastic band. But the piece de resistance was a pair of white underwear. Your underwear. Fred couldn't believe how insanely lucky he was when he snuck them out of your room while you were at Hogsmeade. He treated them with such care. He caressed and petted the fabric, even holding them to his nose like it was the sweetest smelling orchid. He had thought about wrapping them around his cock, but the thought of defiling such a sacred piece of fabric made him shiver.

One of his best ideas was when he put the underwear on a pillow. He buried his face into the soft fabric while his hips rutted against the other end. He didn't care about ruining his pillowcase. These were given to every other student who got a letter. But the underwear? Your underwear? They stayed either tucked in the drawer, splayed across his face, or kept in his pocket during class.

Freds next target was a pair of underwear that hadn’t been in the drawer. He wanted to get a fresh pair. He searched your room, careful to keep everything in its original place. Your room was like a palace, an undiscovered temple just for his eyes. Every one of your possessions was a gem, your hastily made bed was a pedestal where a sleeping princess could wait for her prince. He was your prince, and his kiss would open your eyes just like a princess. He really couldn't help himself as he laid on your bed, burrowing his face as deep into the fabric of your pillowcase as he could. Suffocation be damned, he would die a happy man.

He made sure to take things that he knew you wouldn't miss. The clump of hair from your hairbrush, your pillowcase (which he swapped with a fresh one from the bottom drawer), and lastly a pair of your underwear which he found tucked in the small hamper by the door. The holy grail. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

The scent was unlike anything he's ever smelt. Such a sweet smell. Better than your perfume or the scent of your shampoo. This was all you. He let out a groan at the smell, his eyes rolling back at how heavenly a simple bit of fabric could smell, all because it belonged to you. The lace seemed softer, the scent purer than your other natural scents. How a single smell could paralyse him for a whole minute, he would never know.

But his trance would soon end when he heard footsteps outside. He had never moved so quickly, not to hide from you. But underneath your bed acted as his secret sanctuary within the confines of your room, one where he could stay safe and still be as close to you as he liked (although in your bed with you was a dream he longed for). He peeked out from underneath the edge of the duvet to see your shoes, carrying you across the room to carry out your after class routine. His eyes stayed glued to your legs, the most he could see without revealing himself. But his breath hitched when your skirt dropped to the floor, followed by your shirt. Your shoes were kicked off in the corner and your bra came off after.

He nearly had a heart attack. If he peeked now, he’d see heaven. It was worth the risk of being caught. His hands slowly pushed the duvet up, his head peeking out. There you stood in just your underwear and grey knee socks. Your breasts free for his eyes to see, and only his eyes. He was so entranced by the very sight of your naked flesh that he almost missed his cue to duck back under the bed. He held his breath, making sure he was in the clear before letting himself reminisce about what he had just witnessed.

The rustle of fabric and the bed springs squeaking above him were a sure sign that he was in the clear. You were so tired, poor baby. Don’t worry, just rest. It’ll be okay..

Fred’s watching over you

[fleurriee]

oh my god i need a-z alphabet of aemond or whatever it is. foaming at the mouth for this man fr

inspired by @moralesluvr & their a-z

again, more than likely ooc aemond but aren't most fics of him??

this was written over a period of months at sporadic times & i haven't read it through so...

affection — how affection are they? do they show affection?

aemond is not an affection person - i mean, do you know how he was brought up? the only affection he's ever really been shown is when his mother stood up for him that night he lost his eye. so, it's definitely safe to say that affection & aemond do not go together. until he met you, at least.

you're not overly affectionate yourself, but there were certain things you'd do that would make him tense up a little - like, stroking his arm, touching his hand, giving him little compliments, etc. at first, when you'd do these to him, he'd want nothing more than to run away and forget it ever happened... but, the more you did it, the more he got used to it, and the more he craved it.

of course, when you finally get to a point in your relationship where aemond started showing affection back to you, he would only ever do so in the privacy of your chambers, when only those in view were the two of you. it wasn't that he was worried he would come across as weak - he didn't want people to know you were his upmost weakness.

eventually, too, both his mother and heleana are allowed to see these little special moments between the two of you, but that’s all.

bye — what do they do when they need to leave? how are they feeling?

aemond is a busy man, especially when his older brother takes the throne. so, more often than not, the two of you need to part, which is something he hates. he hates not knowing where you’ll be, what you’ll be doing, who you’ll be with — and it’s not a possessive thing, it’s a worried thing. he always worries something bad might happen to you, someone might do something to get back at him.

the first thing he does is reassure you that he’ll back as soon as he possibly can, worded in a way that doesn’t allow him to promise that he won’t be long, because he knows he will be. he takes your face in his hands when he utters these promises to you, looking straight at your eyes so you can see the sincerity. he places gentle kisses all across your face, smiling a little to himself when he hears your giggles. that sounds alone is enough for him to go on.

cuddles — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

aemond cuddles in a way that keeps you safe. when you’re in bed, he’ll lie on his back with you lay right next to him, arm draped on his front whilst his goes behind your head. he likes to way he can play with your hair between his fingers, combing it through and soothing you; he likes that he can feel you moving with his every breath as you lay upon his chest. it constantly reminds him that you’re there, that you’re real.

there’s also the times when the two of you have a somewhat free day, spending it together in the silence of your chambers reading your separate books. more often than not, you’re sat apart, trying to concentrate, but then there’s the moments when aemond just needs you that little bit closer. he’ll be sat in his chair, unable to focus with his mind constantly drifting back to you, so he gestures you over. the position isn’t exactly a completely comfortable one, but you’re close, and that’s all you care about. you’ll be sat on his lap, both arms around your middle as he carries on reading, you head on his shoulder. it just makes the silence all the more beautiful for him.

domestic — how domestic are they? do they want to settle down?

aemond can come across quite domestic, but maybe that’s just because he knows eventually, the two of you will have no choice but to be so. and, he tries, at least more than his brother did with heleana. it’s always the little things — holding your hand in a gentle grip when leaving a carriage, making sure you don’t lose your step; pulling out the chair for you and pushing you back in at feasts.

like i said, it’s his duty, so he knows he wants to settle down. but, there was a time when he never thought he would because he couldn’t find anyone who would want to settle down with him, something he attributed to his missing eye. and then, he met you, and you didn’t care he had something missing. in that moment, he knew he was ready to finally begin his duties.

equal — how much effort do they put into the relationship?

aemond likes to give back as much to you as he can possibly try. of course, at first, he didn’t know how to properly do what you do to him — how is it that you’re able to make him blush when he’s never done so before; how is it that you’re capable of causing his heart to beat at rapid pulses?

aemond simply wanted to make you feel as loved as you made him feel. what type of husband would he be if he couldn’t do that for his very own wife? so, until he could finally figure out what got your heart racing, he’s definitely thinking of different ways to make you fall more impossibly in love with him.

fiancé — how are they in an engagement?

when aemond finally warms up to the idea of possibly being in a marriage alliance that could make him happy, he somehow turns it into the perfect betrothal.

he makes sure to spend as much time with you as he possibly can whenever he’s free, learning all your likes and dislikes, what your favourite hobbies are, etc. not only does he want to know everything he can about you, but it also helps to know how to best make you smile.

if he learns that you like to read, best believe he’s spending time with you in the library, the both of you talking about your favourite books; if you like to embroider, he’s definitely asking heleana if you can join her, making even sitting in silence with you as you converse with his sister.

aemond wants to make your life as easy as he can, and he knows that by reassuring you during your engagement that you’ll be safe and even potentially happy with him is just the first step.

gentle — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

how is it that aemond can be both gentle and aggressive? to anyone looking in from the outside, he’s a rock, as hard as stone and the only expression you’ll find on his face is a smirk. he’s willing to prove himself to anyone — show how much of a warrior he is now that he’s practiced almost as much as he’s breathed.

but to you, behind the privacy of your chamber doors? it’s almost like he’s trying to handle a butterfly. he’s so nervous that maybe his rough, calloused hands will be too harsh on you, that his attempt at a smile might look a little too like a smirk. but, he tries, and that’s all you can ask of him.

hugs — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

aemond is not a hugger. he finds it almost too intimate, too uncomfortable. when you first tried to hug him, all he felt was tense and stiff. none of it felt right.

now, he’ll give in to a hug on certain occasions, like when you’re upset — especially when you’re upset. the moment he sees your teary eyes and quivering lips, he’s instantly wrapping you in his embrace, forgetting all about the fact that on a normal day, he’d hate it. but, he knows you need comforting, and he’s willingly to do just about anything to make you feel better.

aemond’s hugs, despite not being used to them, feel like a protective circle, more so when you’re in need of comforting and he’s using the tightest grip he has on you. it’s like he needs you to know that he’s there, that he’s close by, that his body is always going to be entwined with yours.

i love you — how fast do they say the words?

it takes aemond forever — i’m talking years. again, though, can you really blame him when he’s not even sure what love actually is? he wasn’t shown barely even a smidge growing up — how’s he supposed to know that’s what he’s feeling every time he looks at you?

but, even when he finally figures it out, you best believe he’s keeping that secret to himself for a while longer. the idea of you not feeling the same way, of you feeling repulsed, of you laughing at his face for even thinking such a way is such a terrifying thought for him, he’d be to worried to ever confess.

when he eventually does, however, he’s not even aware he’s saying the words until his mind fully focuses on the expression you’re giving him. the two of you were in bed, you lay on top of him, your finger mindlessly running circles on his chest after spending your time intimately together. you were telling him about your day, how happy you’d been to spend it with heleana and how she always manages to make you feel young again, when the words just flew through him mouth.

needless to say, after that moment and the way you so lovingly reacted to it, aemond loves to whisper it in your ear.

jealousy — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

aemond doesn’t like to admit, but he gets jealous more often than not. he’s fallen far and hard, and the idea of you ever falling for someone else, or someone trying to, it scares him.

he keeps his cool as best as he can, clenching both his jaw and his fists, hoping that the lord who offered you to dance at the feast won’t try to pull anything that will make him want to break his neck.

and, he’ll just stew in his jealousy until the whole things over. he’ll never take it out on you, because he knows you couldn’t exactly say no when a lord asks you to dance. and, he knows he’ll never have to courage to do what they can — he can’t dance with you in front of everybody, but he sure as hell can when your in your chambers, and you’re always there to reassure him that you’d take him over any lord for the rest of your life.

kisses — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

for the longest time, aemond’s kisses are just pecks, and only across the back of your hand. when he started to get bolder the closer your relationship became, he’d peck your cheeks, your forehead. he was scared when he first kissed your lips, again just a peck, but after that first time, his hands cupping your face in such an intimate way, he couldn’t help himself. his kisses are still soft, but there’s a greediness to it, one that shows how starving he is for more of you.

aemond fucking loves it when you kiss his scar — he’s never felt so much love in his entire life. the way you never try to pressure him to take the patch off, your thumbs stroking soothingly against the white mark before placing such a gentle caress of a kiss against it? god, he’d do anything for you when you do that to him.

little ones — how are they around children? how many do they want?

aemond isn’t the best around children, never really know how best to act, or what to say, or worried he might come across as some monster just from the sight of him alone. but, when heleana had the twins, something in him changed. he cared for them unconditionally, allowing them to pull on his hair and climb on him just because they were bored. being an uncle made him realise that maybe one day he could do the same with his own children.

he would want as many kids as you would allow him — he’d definitely want to be the next jaehaerys when it comes to all his heirs. he couldn’t think of anything better than having a big family with you, uncaring as to whether they were all boys, all girls or a mixture of both. aemond would want boys for the longest time, teach to be fierce warriors and have them protect your family, but as the time got closer, he’d secretly start wanting a girl, who he’d raise the same and love all the more.

morning — how are mornings spent with them?

mornings with aemond are rare. more often than not, he’s unfortunately called for some business or counsel meeting he really couldn’t be bothered for, having to leave your warm embrace for a cold welcome somewhere else.

but, on the rare occasions where he somehow managed both the old gods and the new to allow him a free morning, you spend it stuck against one another, allowing yourselves more time to sleep in.

night — how are nights spent with them?

nights with aemond are either spent with the two of you wrapped in bed, on the chairs by the fire — but, either way, the two of you are full of conversation. it can be spent with whatever you’ve done during that day, or how you’re thinking of spending the next one.

aemond always makes sure someone has your fire going and a bath reading before either of you arrive there. he likes it when you have baths together, facing the window as you just look out at the sky. you could be spending it in silence for all he cares, as long as it’s just the two of you, he doesn’t care.

open — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait to reveal things slowly?

it would take aemond so long to open himself up to you, even when it came to the little things about him.

in order to do so, he felt as though he needed to know more about you first — about whether you would even be worthy of nothing all the ins and outs of him. and even then, when he finally understood you completely, it was nerve wracking for him, coming clean and being vulnerable with anyone.

aemond definitely took his time opening himself up, too, in the sense that he wouldn’t unload everything onto you at once. he would just subtly mention something he hadn’t told you before whenever it felt right in the middle of a conversation — and one thing he loved about you, was that you never made a big deal out of it. you just took the information in with a small smile on your face and carried on.

patience — how easily angered are they?

like i said before, this man gets jealous easy, and the same goes for his anger.

we all know what aemond is like and the shit he's been through, so is it really any surprise?

but he's good at hiding it - he does that smirk of his and his eyes narrow dangerously. to anyone else but you, they'd just think that was his resting expression.

however, when others take it just a little too far?? with you?? yeah, they're dead, the blood of the dragon comes out in him for sure.

he tries not to maim them too much for your sake, but he's definitely fed a few people to vhagar because they insulted you.

quizzes — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or forget everything?

aemond remembers everything.

he doesn't talk much; her prefers to listen, so he's very attentive with you. during your courting days, when you were getting to know one another more properly, he'd learned everything about you and made sure to keep it all locked within a little safe in his mind.

he'll remember all dates you consider important so he can do something special for you; he'll remember your favourite book so he can make sure you always have a spare with you; he'll remember your favourite flowers so he can spoil you rotten with them.

the list is simply endless with this man.

remember — what is their favourite memory of your relationship?

the day he finally revealed his sapphire to you.

it was one of his biggest worries; you'd not long been married, and you were getting along so well, he was terrified that the moment you laid eyes on it, you were going to run.

he couldn't stand the idea of you leaving him, of thinking him less than because of his scars.

but, it happened in the spur of a moment type of way - you'd wanted to see all of him for a while now but you didn't want to push him, and whilst the two of you were kissing heatedly in your rooms, one of your hands repeatedly got stuck between his eye patch and his hair. without even realising what he was doing, aemond took it off.

the silence was deafening as you gazed upon him, all of him, and aemond swore he could feel his heart in his throat.

all of that changed when you smiled at him as you always had done, filled with such love and admiration, and you carried on like nothing happened.

aemond knew from that moment on there was no other explanation other than you were put on this world just for him.

security — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

aemond targaryen? protective? they're basically synonyms.

fr though, all aemond is thinking about is where you are and whether you're safe, but not in an overbearing, possessive way. he just knows that you're his biggest weakness, and it's probably painfully obvious to everyone else.

when you're apart, aemond always makes sure you have at least 3 of his most trusted guards with you at all times, even if you're only spending the day in the library.

when you're together, aemond's protective in the little ways. it's important to him that you're always on his good side, allowing him to see where you are and who else is nearby in case they try anything; if you're a little bit in front of him, he'll have his hand on the small of your back, for his sake more than yours, but if you're standing next to one another, he asks you to put his arm through his, the comfort of your presence giving him ease.

aemond knows you're not an overly protective person, but he absolutely adores it when you stand up for him, defending his honour when you hear someone slander him, be it for his looks or his demeanour. he loves how angry and protective you get over him, and he wouldn't want you to do anymore than that.

try — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?

aemond's a 50/50 guy when it comes to stuff like this.

you mean a lot to him, and he'll do almost anything to put a smile on your face, so long as it's just between the two of you.

he won't want to do anything too extravagant or adventurous; the most it's gone has been when he took you flying on vhager for the first time.

he likes to keep it kind of low key. he make sure you have several bouquets of your favourite flowers in your rooms for you; the cooks have prepared your favourite breakfast, dinner and deserts; and he'll make sure he spends the entire day with you, clearing off anything else he needs to do and shoving it away for another day.

ugly — what are some bad habits of theirs?

aemond is big on silent treatment.

he didn't talk about any of his feelings when he was younger, and unfortunately, it's something he ended up taking with him as he grew older.

you know he tries his absolute hardest to not give you the silent treatment, but when it's been engrained within your brain your entire life, it's easier said than done. he knows you hate it, and it's something he's definitely trying to work on for you.

another thing would be his anger towards others. with you, he never gets angry, because how could he ever get angry at his sweet little wife? but with others, he's brutal.

it's another thing you hate when he does, the way he so callously beats and maims others for something you wouldn't think deserve such a punishment.

vanity — how concerned are they with their looks?

aemond's not exactly concerned, but he is cautious.

when he looks at you, all he sees are the stars in your eyes and the goddess far above within your features. and standing next to him, he knows it has to be such a sight.

he's always been one to take care of his hair - it's just his eye.

he doesn't like the way it stands out so brutishly against your shining figure, dark and cruel.

of course, the start to changing his way of thinking happens after he reveals his eye to you, and he realises that it only matters what you think, no one else.

whole — would they feel incomplete without you?

oh, yes.

beforehand, aemond never wanted a wife, he never wanted a family, he just simply wanted to protect his family like the dutiful son he was.

but once you've fallen into his dark embrace and he's finally gotten a taste of what marriage life is supposed to be like, aemond can't imagine anything any other way.

xtra — a random headcannon for them!!

aemond loves it when you take care/pamper him.

it's something he struggled to admit to himself, let alone to you, but once you're past that barrier, it's one of the things he looks forward to at the end of his day.

you'll have a bath prepared for him, dismissing the maids because no one takes care of him like you do, and you'll help wash him sensually, cleaning his hair and massaging his shoulder of all the knots built up.

he loves it when you play with his hair - washing it, brushing it, stroking it, you name it.

it just makes aemond feel so loved.

yuck — what are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or in a partner?

when your courting started, one of the most important things to aemond was that you got on with his sister, heleana.

he wasn't entirely bothered if you didn't get on with his mother because he knows she can be intimidating sometimes, and he definitely didn't care when it came to aegon.

but with heleana, he needed it to happen.

for aemond, it spoke a lot about the other person. if they didn't like heleana, for whatever excuse they may come up with, there had to be something wrong with him, they had to have been a bad person somewhere inside.

definitely off-putting for him.

zzz — what are their sleep habits?

he's a light sleeper in every sense.

he feels the wind coming through the open window? he's awake. he hears a rustle from outside his doors? he's awake. he feels you move slightly against him in your sleep? he's awake.

aemond is never really fully asleep, but it does get better once you start to sleep next to him.

he's always made sure you sleep the furthest away from the door, a habit he'll never get rid of for your safety.

he likes to have you as close to him as possible, wanting to feel your skin against his own for his comfort, no matter if it's the hottest summer known to man.

[dammn-dean]

Unexpected

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Words: 4000

Warnings: Pregnancy, secrets, probably a bit out of character

I wanted to write a pregnant!Reader fic so here we are... I haven't written in a long time and this is my first time writing a COD character! Any and all feedback is welcome 🖤

Shout out to @babygirl-riley for helping me with this. Thank you!

“Simon?” your small voice echoes from the phone.

“Yeah?” He answers, in his typical bored voice.

Only letting the phone ring once before answering. Obviously he wouldn’t have answered if he wasn’t available at the moment, but you never know.

“Are you… busy?”

Your voice is different… raising Simon’s curiosity. He could only think of a handful of times since he met you that you had ever even tried calling him without sending a text first to check if he was in at base or not.

“A little, why?” He doesn’t mean to sound so gruff, but he does. He also wasn’t necessarily busy, but he wasn’t in the mood to chat with you. His day was especially shit today.

“I.. um well,” you hadn’t had time to come up with what to say. “I am sorry for not telling you before now and if you wish that I would have never said anything… well I’m sorry for that too.” Your words were rushed together, barely making any sense.

“Just spit it out will ya?”

You physically flinch from his rashness. Simon wasn’t always this way, but the past few months it seemed he stayed irritated at you. Just the sensitivity of the subject was already difficult enough, paired with his attitude towards you. This was going to be a rough call. “Sorry..” your heart is beating so fast you are wondering if it’s making matters worse, “I just wanted to tell you-“

Pain shoots through you, what once was a small little reminder of the state your body was in began its first real shock of what was happening. You let out a gasp and small noise of discomfort. That made him stand up from the chair he was sitting in and call your name over the phone. You almost missed it, the pain causing the phone to be pulled from your face.

“Love, what is it? Are you hurt?” Simon was actually worried now. Once the pain subsides you huff a small laugh. “Well, kind of yeah but no I’m okay.”

Simon’s brows pulled together at that, he was more confused than ever. Before waiting for a response he snagged his keys from his pants as his legs carried him to the parking lot at base. “Where are you?” He all but growled.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t need to come to me. I’m okay,” you smiled to yourself. You had convinced yourself you could do this alone. Damn your weakness for even calling him to begin with. “I am about to head to the hospital.”

“What do you mean? Tell me where you are… I’m on the way.” You could hear the door to his truck slamming and the engine cutting on.

“You may not want to once I say what I have to say,” you whispered.

“I’m pregnant.”

Simon felt his blood run cold. He didn’t speak, just continued his way out of the base. Brain not keeping up with what was happening.

“I… have been pregnant. And the baby is coming. I- Our baby is coming Simon.” Your eyes squeezed shut with the confession. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears so loud you almost missed his response.

“Where are you?” He actually growled this time.

“The apartment…” you replied meekly.

You could feel another round of contractions starting up. You dropped to the floor and before allowing yourself to scream over the phone you dropped it to your lap, and road out the contraction. Once the pain eased up some you heard your name being repeated from the speaker, his voice urgently asking for a response. You picked back up the phone, “I’m sorry…” you felt tears prickling your vision.

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

You hadn’t meant to keep it a secret. What started as something you happily found out turned into your best kept secret.

It was around the two year mark of you starting this relationship with Simon. You two had met and after many months of being friendly you had fallen for him first… it was quick for you to love him and you had fallen hard. Simon took a little more time to open up and things weren’t always easy, but you loved each other thoroughly.

Simon was gone on a month long mission when you started noticing something was up. You were getting queasy from random things that never had upset your stomach before. That was your first clue to get a test, so without much thought when you ran to the store for some things for dinner after work, you grabbed a pregnancy test. You got home, started working on dinner, making one of Simon’s favorites as a surprise. He was coming back for a short while before heading off for another mission and he was due home any moment. Since he hadn’t made it home yet so you figured you would bring the test into the bathroom and get it over with. Yet 5 minutes later the small white plastic showed you the truth - Positive.

You sat in your apartment’s bathroom, looking at the little plus sign. Mind reeling, a thousands thoughts flying through your head. Were you ready to become a mom? How would Simon take the news? Does he even want to be a dad? How would you balance having a baby with Simon’s work schedule?

He had knocked at the door, shaking you from your thoughts. “You alright love?” He had been in your apartment for about 10 minutes, waiting for you to leave the bathroom attached to the bedroom.

You hadn’t even noticed him coming into the apartment. Without much thought you grabbed the test, tossed it in the bin and quickly washed your hands before opening the door.

You grinned at him, “Yes of course. Sorry!”

Your arms wrapped around him instinctively as a greeting, but his body tensed instead of attempting to hug back like he usually did. You withdrew with a questioning face.

“I missed you,” you tried to adjust your face into a small smile. “Are you okay?” You questioned.

“Yeah.” Was all he offered, then he headed into the bathroom. Your eyes widened and followed his back until he shut door behind him. Definitely must not have been a great day at work. Simon doesn’t tell you much about what he does day to day, but you can’t imagine any of it is easy on him.

So without asking again, or following after him you went back to making dinner. Now your thoughts were muddled of the thoughts of parenthood, and this baby. Your face couldn’t help the small grin that popped up, a hand coming to gently rest on your stomach. By the end of cooking everything and getting plates ready you had decided you would tell Simon after dinner. Sure you only have taken the one pregnancy test, but you wanted to go ahead and give him the news. That’s when you realized he still hasn’t came from the bedroom, that used to be just yours and slowly has turned into both of yours. Now it was your turn to knock on the door to the bathroom.

“Dinner is ready… I made one of your favorites to celebrate you being home.” You couldn’t help the cheerful tone your voice held.

The door ripped open at that. His hair was still wet from his shower, he was dressed down in sweats and a black t-shirt. You smiled at him and reached a small hand out to him.

His eyes met yours for a moment before chancing a quick glance to your outstretched hand. “Not hungry.”

You were usually pretty receptive to his reactions and as much as it confused you, you dropped your hand back down to your side. “Oh okay… well I will put it in the oven to keep warm until you are,” you suggested. Your stomach was rolling, for many reasons. The news of the pregnancy, the actual sickness the pregnancy was bringing you and how Simon was acting had your nerves on edge.

“You go ahead,” his eyes didn’t quite meet yours “The crew and I have a lot to debrief on… we leave on the next mission in a few days. I think I’m going to head back to base for the night,” he bluntly stated. He gently walked past you into the room, collecting items into his duffel bag.

“Well I made dinner especially for you, I hoped we could enjoy it tog-“

“I said I wasn’t hungry.” He didn’t yell, but he definitely spoke louder to you than he typically did.

You couldn’t help the small breath of air you took in, and he rolled his eyes at that. “Please,” he said your name with a sigh. “I am not in the mood for this.”

“Okay,” you whispered. Eyes welling up with tears, but before they could fall in front of him, you turned to head back into the kitchen. You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes before they could fall as you made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed the food you had spent the last hour or so working on and dumped it into the trash. You flung the pot into the sink before reaching for the next dish to toss.

“What are you doing?” Simon grasped your arm before you could throw away the main entrée.

“I’m throwing out the food. What does it look like??” You couldn’t help the angry tone your voice took on. “I made all of this for you. And you don’t want it, so I’m getting rid of it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want it… I just-“

“You aren’t hungry,” You cut him off. ���I get it.” Using your free hand to wipe a stray tear that was threatening to fall.

His eyes softened and he released your arm. “I’m sorry… yeah? You know I hate when I get back then immediately have to leave again.” Simon tried to comfort you, but it was too late. “I probably should have just stayed at the base as is… I just have a lot on my plate.”

“Yeah I got it,” you coldly replied as you sat the now cold entrée onto the counter. To know you spent all day thinking of things to make his day back special… and to hear him wish he wouldn’t have even came. Just breaks your will. You then felt tired to your bones, unwilling to argue as you decided to call it a night. As you head to your bedroom, over your shoulder you said “Tell the boys I said hi.”

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

That was the last time you had seen Simon in person. A little over 7 months ago since he had stepped foot into your apartment. You had given him the silent treatment for a while. Well, if he would have had access to a phone you would have definitely given him the silent treatment.

He was gone with no way to contact him. Which you didn’t mind, initially. It had been a few weeks since Simon had left and since you found out about the pregnancy. Things were beginning to catch up and take a toll on you. From the physical aspects of being pregnant, to you being lonely with Simon being gone for so long, and work was awful. Your stomach was starting to grow, everyone around you noticing the baby bump but you never acknowledged it. You hadn’t even gotten to break the news to Simon, it didn’t feel fair to talk about the baby to random co-workers. A few doctors appointments had come and gone, confirming the pregnancy. You had decided to not find out the sex of the baby or really even look at the screen during the sonogram appointment. Just letting the doctor check on the baby’s health, that was all that mattered to you.

It’s the middle of the night, your bladder waking you. You got up and made your way to the bathroom to relieve yourself. Once you were back in bed under the covers you felt sleep pulling you back in but before you could fall asleep your phone started to vibrate. Incoming call from an unknown number. Simon

You were thinking about not answering but you decided to pick up the phone anyway.

“Hello…” you answered quietly.

“Sweetheart,” Simon sighs “I’m sorry to be calling you so late. I finally had access to a phone and I, well… missed you.”

Your lip was pulled between your teeth. You were feeling all kinds of emotions. You wanted to still be upset with him, but at this point you couldn’t even feel anything except the loneliness of life without him here.

“I miss you too,” you responded as you adjusted yourself in bed to sit up right.

“Fuck love, missed your voice.” He is talking low, probably just barely out of earshot from the guys. “Hate leaving how I did, and going this long from ya.”

“Was pretty bad Si,” you spoke honestly. “Don’t get me wrong… I know your job is insanely difficult and hard on you. I just wish sometimes you would think about what it does to me too.”

Simon sighs again, “I know… I just… I’m trying.”

And he was trying, he made that obvious to you. His communication was better than it was in the beginning. Simon is a very closed off man, and he has let you in more than he ever told himself he would allow another person in. You just have that way about you, and it drives him crazy in the best way.

“I wish I was calling with better news, it looks like it’ll be a while before I’m able to come back.”

“What is ‘a while’?” You whisper back, suddenly feeling choked up. He had already been gone for longer than usual.

“Price is thinking a couple weeks here, but we have some new intel… may keep us busy for the next couple of months, love.” Simon hated breaking this to you after staying away so long. Being with him was insanely unfair to you, but you had convinced him this was the life you wanted. You wanted him.

“Okay.” You had tears falling freely now. And you brought a hand to rest on your tummy.

“I have something to tell you,” you started.

“Hang on sweetheart.” He interrupted. You heard commotion on the other end of the phone. Then Simon’s voice was back, “I’m sorry, I have to go. When I’m back at base I’ll be able to text ya, yeah?”

“Oh… okay. Yeah.” You gave yourself a sad smile. “I love you. Stay safe.” As much as Simon needed to know about the baby… how wasn’t the time.

“Always.” And with that he hung up.

That was the last time you attempted to bring up the baby to him. You realized that Simon was going through a lot and you just could never figure out the best way to say it.

He did text you here and there, letting you know he was okay. Simon let you know when they were back at base a few days ago, with an excuse as to why he couldn’t come to your apartment. You wish that you could recall the reason, but it just seemed like maybe he didn’t want to come home to you. Simon just hadn’t been able to make the time to come see you… Until now.

Simon stood in the doorway watching your frantic form gather things from around the apartment. Shoving some things into a bag, before disappearing and returning with a baby bag that seemed to be full. That’s when your eyes connected. You felt your eyes well up with tears, oh how you missed him.

“Simon,” your lips trembling with emotion.

He honestly couldn’t place what he was feeling. Seeing you for the first time in months, and here you were, a few feet away with a hand on your pregnant belly… Belly holding /his/ child. A child he would have never known existed if you didn’t bravely call him moments ago. He ripped the balaclava off his head, showing you the true emotion of his face. One of the downsides of always wearing a mask, he can’t regulate his face well.

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice was almost unrecognizable. “I’m here… what do you need?”

You let a tear fall down your cheek and smiled. “I’m so happy you’re here.” You took the few steps left between you and reached in to hug him.

Although at the last moment you hesitated, unsure if he wanted the contact. Instead you let your hands awkwardly fall to your sides. Simon had never been so upset with himself. Watching you want nothing more than to hug him but withdrawing from him. You were always overly cautious of his needs, but had he ever shown you the same? You were pregnant with his child, yet you didn’t want to tell him the news, always scared you were a bother to him. Has he made you feel this way? All this time away from you… for what? He could have made the time to check in on you.

“I’m glad I’m here too, love…” his voice held a softness to it only held for you. His hand reaches out to brush softly against your arm. Softening you up to his presence. Unsure of what caused the next words to come out, Simon muttered “May I?” His eyes met yours before he glanced at your stomach.

Your heart was racing, blood pounding in your ears. “Of course Si…” and his hand immediately came to rest on your belly.

You let out a small gasp at the contact. Your hands gravitating to his ungloved hand resting on your protruding stomach. Stopping yourself an inch or two from making contact.

“Can you make me a promise?” Simon spoke softly, eyes meeting yours again.

“Anything, you know that,” you smiled at him.

“When you want to touch me, please just do it. When you want me to touch you, you tell me. If you have something you want to tell me… just say it. But especially when you need or want me here with you… you tell me love.” Simon felt the sensation of being choked up, he only hoped his voice didn’t crack. “I love you and I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you,” he whispered. He kept one hand on your stomach while the other came to grasp your face. “I am so sorry.”

You couldn’t even try to stop the tears from falling now. “It’s okay Simon… I am so glad you are here no-“ another contraction began. You grit your teeth, trying to remember the breathing you had practiced, but the pain was still there.

This is probably the biggest thing that Simon was not prepared for. Had he spent his life inflicting pain upon others? When needed, yes. How many people had he seen in distress and never felt one thing about it? Basically every time. Yet here he was watching you writhe in pain, wasn’t something he handled well.

“Jesus Christ…” he grasped onto you. Keeping you upright. “Let’s get to the hospital, yeah?”

You didn’t put up a fight, letting him help you to his truck. Before he could open the door you stopped him.

“What’s the matter?” He asked worriedly. “We can’t…” you took a deep breath before continuing. “We can’t drive the baby back in your truck. The car seat is in my car.” You avoided his eyes.

Simon felt a pang of something up his spine, similar to jealousy but close to disappointment in himself. You were completely and wholly ready to have this baby without him. He felt a huge sense of pride in you and your independence but he was also upset at himself for making you do all of this alone.

“Alright yeah, makes sense,” he kept his voice calm. Leading you to your car, asking for keys and guiding you in gently to the passenger side.

“I’m going to run backup for your things lovie… I’ll be back in a minute.” With that he was off and Simon was back in under the minute. Bags in hand, tossing them in the backseat before heading to the closest hospital.

Simon is as silent as ever. He was doing his best to drive safe, but he also had a huge sense of urgency to him. His mind couldn’t slow down and allow him to catch up with what was happening. Thoughts clouding his mind and taking up all his capacity to think.

“I’m sorry..” you started again. Breaking him of his thoughts. God how long had he been silent? “I know you’re busy and I ha-“

“Stop,” he said with a sigh.

Your eyes cut to him quickly, before returning to your lap.

“Please stop saying sorry to me,” eyes cutting to you. “I am the one who is sorry and who should be begging for your forgiveness. I can’t believe I haven’t made you understand what you are to me. I’m not upset about you not telling me, sweetheart. I’m just sad you have been through all of this alone.” He let out a dry chuckle. His hand reached out for your stomach again. “I have done nothing in this life to deserve you.” He let out a wet chuckle, “but fuck… am I glad you’re mine.”

You grinned between the tears. Your hand covered his easily now, without hesitation. The feeling of his warm hand softly brushing your stomach was something you had been longing for. “You deserve more than me, but I’m glad I’m yours too.” You let out a small wink when his eyes let yours briefly before they were back on the road in front of him.

You felt another surge of pain shooting through you. The contractions n were definitely getting more frequent. You started your breathing again, this time squeezing his hand to help take your mind off it. Once the pain subsided some you could hear Simon’s voice sweetly talking you through it.

After a couple breaths, you steadied yourself. “I found out I was pregnant the day you left, ya know… before.” You admitted. You heard his big inhale at the confession.

“The night with the… dinner?” You aren’t sure why you felt the need to clarify. It could have been a big moment to you and not to him, you suppose.

“Fuckin’ hell baby…” Simon sighed.

“I just wasn’t sure where we stood,” you gulped. “I couldn’t tell how you were feeling and I honestly don’t even know if you like kids.” You let out a dry laugh. “I had this whole plan, god it was a halfway thought out plan. We would eat dinner, celebrate you being home and I would tell you the news.” You hadn’t let go of his hand even as it fell to your lap. “But with the way everything happened I just didn’t know what to do or how to tell you… so I didn’t.” You finished with a shrug.

“I like kids,” he admitted. “In case you’re still wondering.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him for what felt like the 20th time since he arrived at your apartment.

“As for the rest… I don’t know how to explain how I behaved that night. Of course if I knew… I wouldn’t have acted like that. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. Fuck what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I’m glad you like kids.”

“Changing the subject, yeah?” You can hear his grin.

You turned a little to look at him better. “We will get through this. Will probably have to have a few talks about everything but for now. Let’s get this baby out of me.”

You can see the lights of the hospital casting over his features as he pulls into the emergency lane. With one deep breath that you two seemed to share, “It’s go time Si.”

I hope you all enjoyed this! If you would like a part 2 of the hospital and then the aftermath... feel free to let me know in a comment!

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part Two

[catcze]

I feel like Wrio would be a little nervous for his first Christmas with you because he’d be nervous if you’d like the present he got for you or not 🥺

He would !! The way he would have spent so long toiling over what to get you, too? He probably spent days upon days deciding what to get you <3

In hindsight, Wriothesley knows that it's a dumb thing to worry about. He knows that he's probably overthinking it, probably making a mountain out of a molehill.

It's just buying a gift, how hard could it be?

Turns out, when it's for you, buying a gift is very hard.

He doesn't even get why he's making this so difficult for himself. He knows what you like. He knows the things that make you smile, that make you laugh, that make you run up and embrace him from sheer glee. He knows all of these things, but the thing is, for this holiday season, he wants his gift to you to be special— he doesn't want it to be something that he would get you any other day of the year just because he could. This is your first time celebrating the holidays with you, and he wants it to be special.

And, when the day comes that you're excitedly staring at the gift he got you, he can feel the nerves crawling up his throat and his heart doing nervous backflips in his chest.

The gift he got you is a small thing— a palm sized box that he had wrapped all on his own. The wrapping is a little shoddy, a little imperfect and the paper a little crinkled and not as taut as it would have been if he had gotten it done professionally, but he wanted to do it himself. it only felt right.

You shake the box at first, gently and just a little, and Wriothesley can't help the small smile that forms on his face when you pout in disappointment, unable to hear anything from inside.

"You have to open it to find out what it is, sweetheart," he teases you good-naturedly, leaning forward to watch your reaction keenly, resting his chin on his palm as he tries his best to quell the growing worry bubbling in his stomach.

You roll your eyes in response, but you're smiling still, clearly excited for whatever it is he had gotten you. "It better not be some gag gift," you grumble to him, even though you know that Wriothesley wouldn't do that to you— he's too sincere for that. Too sweet.

You carefully unwrap the gift, only to be presented with a pretty white box with a logo emblazoned on the top. It's simple, yet elegant, and you recognize the name written on the box to be one of the most famous jewelers in the whole nation. One that's expensive and notoriously difficult to buy from.

In your chest, your heart rate picks up and there's a shock of disbelief in your system, followed by anticipation. Your jaw drops in surprise, eyes widening as you all but snap your neck to Wriothesley, who continues to watch you with rapt attention. "Well? You haven't opened it up yet," he prompts, eyes flicking down to the gift, the smirk on his face not betraying the way his heart is pounding and the way his mouth is dry from anxiety.

With utmost gentleness, you lift the lid of the box, and are presented with two rings, both fitted snugly in a velvet cushion, and your jaw snaps shut as you admire them with wide eyes.

Both bands are simple in nature, devoid of any extravagant gemstones or gaudy designs, made to look instead like vines weaving together on the finger. Made of white gold that's been polished to perfection, practically shining like a mirror in the lighting, there are small, understated diamonds inlaid between the vines, making the rings glitter.

"They're not engagement rings, so you don't have to worry just yet," comes Wriothesley's teasing— you hadn't even noticed his approach, too stunned by the simple and subtle beauty of the rings in your palm. With utmost gentleness, Wriothesley carefully plucks one of the rings out of the velvet cushion and takes your left hand, carefully slipping it onto your ring finger with near-reverence, and all you can do is watch, mouth agape as you still try to process the whole thing. The ring is a perfect fit, down to the centimeter. Crafted, you think, just for you.

"They're promise rings," he says, voice soft and near-fragile with his sincerity. Slowly, he grasps your hand with his own, and the ring twinkles prettily as he does so. Its pair continues to glimmer on the cushion in your hand. "Do you like it?" Wriothesley asks, soft, his eyes intently searching your face for any sort of reaction.

And honestly, you have to will yourself not to let tears gather in your lashes. Not to sob right then and there at the sincerity, at the sheer sweetness of this man with his hand in yours. Part of you wants to bury yourself in his chest and hold him and cry, because you genuinely don't think that you can take how caring he is. How thoughtful. How utterly devoted he is.

But you will yourself to keep your composure, though it takes every ounce of your will. With a hitching breath you carefully take the remaining ring out and take Wriothesley's own left hand. You're almost clumsy in your haste as you slip the ring onto his finger now, blinking back tears as you do so and trying your best not to make it obvious that you want to cry. Wriothesley mercifully doesn't say anything about your state, but instead you hear his breath hitch too as the ring slips onto his finger, as perfect in fit as yours had been.

You swallow heavily as you weave your hand with his, then, both your rings glinting in unison under the light. When you face Wriothesley, he's already watching you, something soft and sweet on his face, and you realize that you're not the only one who's about to cry.

"They're perfect," you murmur between the two of you, hand tightening around his, heart flipping and racing and practically imploding in your chest. When you speak, you're not only talking about the rings. "I really love them."