#i just hold her and stare at her all day long

[innorality]

could you do satoru coming home with a huge scar on his stomach after not contacting his gf for weeks and then reassuring her with intimacy please?

HEAVEN CAN WAIT — G. SATORU

cw : sad in the beginning, afab reader, unprotected, p in v, honestly very cute sex nothing too kinky

a/n : tysm nonnie you gave me the opportunity to use this song as a title finally 🥹 also this idea is so cute like yes pls soft vanilla "I missed you sex" with satoru #needthat !!! also #satoruisalive I believe in it 💔 oh and I'm so sorry this feels very rushed and is not proofread :(

wc : 1335 words 😼

empty. cold. that’s how his side of the bed felt at the moment. it had been weeks since you last saw him, and days since his last message. your eyes stayed glued to your screen, rereading his final words over and over again.

"i luv youuu"

cold tears slipped down your cheeks. you weren’t even sure if they were from grief or from your irritated eyes after staring at the screen for so long without blinking. deep down, you knew the truth—you weren’t dumb. this was bound to happen one day. but you weren’t ready to accept it yet. you wanted to stay in denial just a little longer.

satoru was supposed to be the strongest. so why hadn’t he come home?

with a shaky breath, you shut your phone off and set it aside. hugging his pillow tightly, you buried your face into it—only to realize it didn’t even smell like him anymore.

silent sobs wracked your body as exhaustion finally overtook you.

but in the dead of night, a noise startled you awake.

footsteps.

first near the front door. then in the living room. the kitchen.

and now… heading toward your bedroom.

afraid, you hid under your blanket like a child. you didn’t know if it was reflex or true fear—because honestly, after losing the man you loved, life had lost all meaning.

the door slid open, and you held your breath.

then, a voice.

"baby?"

satoru.

your heart stopped, then raced. it was him. the way he said your name, the way his voice carried through the room—you had missed it more than words could express. before you could think, you jumped out of bed and ran straight into his arms, clutching him as if he might disappear again.

he hugged you back just as tightly.

"where… where the hell were you?! you don’t know how worried i was, how much i cried! i thought you were—"

his lips met yours, silencing your frantic words with a soft peck.

"now, now," he murmured against you, his tone laced with that familiar teasing warmth. "i’m here, and that’s all that matters, pretty."

you pouted, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest, holding him closer. but then your fingers brushed against something different—a rougher patch of skin around his stomach.

a scar.

your breath hitched. "how did you..."

he turned away slightly, avoiding your gaze. guilty. he didn’t want to talk about it.

so you didn’t push.

instead, he gently eased you back onto the bed, his lips finding yours again, slow and deliberate.

"i was this close to dying," he murmured between kisses, trailing from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck. "but i remembered you were waiting at home for me..." his words sent a shiver down your spine as his kisses grew deeper, needier.

"and i decided that heaven could wait."

you let out a breathless giggle, threading your fingers through his white locs."you think you’re going to heaven?" you teased, tugging playfully at his hair. "what a joke."

swiftly, he unbuttoned the blouse you had on and grabbed a handful of your breast, massaging it gently while sucking and nibbling on your neck to create a colorful bruise. sweet moans of his name slid out of between your lips against your will and he simply smirked at them.

"I know you cried, and I know you were cold," his eyes bored into yours, "but now that I'm here, I promise I won't ever leave again." and this time, you're the one that closed the space between your lips. you knew that his promise wasn't true at all, but you decided to ignore that fact and let yourself believe it for the span of a single night. in the heat of the moment, your hand slid down his chest and onto his pelvis, before sneaking its way into his pants, stroking his erection sensually.

satoru moaned into your mouth before taking this bold action of yours as a sign to give you pleasure aswell, his hand rubbing your pussy through your thin panties. "Oh shit- yeah, just like that, 'toru.." your head fell to the side as his hand slid into your panties, rubbing up and down your slit to collect some of your wetness before rubbing tight and quick circles onto your clit, making you needily clench around nothing.

meanwhile, your hand was still skillfully rubbing his cock, thumb rubbing on his tip making him jolt up from the sudden intense pleasure. satoru bit his lip before penetrating you with two of his digits, making you gasp in utter shock and awe. your breath followed the rhythm of his fingers that he pumped in and out of you, as you sped up the speed of your own hand.

as expected, you felt orgasm build up pretty quickly, and as you were of the edge of climaxing, you stopped him. "stop, stop! 'toru, stop it," and he quickly halted his movements, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort or pain. "I'm sorry baby, did I hurt you? I'm so fucking sorry, fuck-" you interrupted him, "no honey, I just..." you bit the inside of your cheek, "after all this time, I wanna cum on your dick, not your fingers..." and you felt his cock twitch at your words. he stared at you in shock before his expression turned into a lustful smile.

and before you even realized it, he had taken your hand out of his pants, before taking said pants off along with your panties in a span of a second. impressive.

"you know baby," he rubbed up and down your slit with the tip of his cock, "even though I won't go to heaven, I'll make sure you do," he aligned his tip with your entrance. "what do you mean?" he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. "I'll take you there myself." and with that, he bottomed out inside you in one swift motion.

your jaw dropped and you instinctively closed your eyes to embrace the familiar sensation of him inside you, but he tapped your cheek with his finger to get your attention. "eyes on me love." and so you obliged, opening your eyes to be met with an expression that seemed to be the results of a love and lust mix.

the sound of his hops meeting yours over and over again made you delirious along with the sensation of his cock claiming your insides and the intense eye contact you held with satoru. at some point, satoru can't hold in anymore—he whines and moans into your ear, whispering confessions such as "fuck– I love you too much, baby-" and "I missed this so bad... holy shit, yeah- I need this- oh fuck, yeah.." which did nothing but turn you on even more.

your hand went straight to your clit to rub it when you felt your orgasm building up again. satoru chased your high as much as you did, using his six eyes to hit all those gummy spots that made you see stars. "fuck- m'cumming, m'cumming!" you couldn't hold back your voice as your orgasm crashed over you without a warning. you struggled to keep your eyes on him as you twitched and shook with the intensity of the orgasm, as it had been weeks since you deemed yourself worthy enough to feel pleasure.

satoru's orgasm followed suit, shooting long ropes of cum into your womb, as your tight grip pulled strings of moans of your name out of his mouth.

as you both calmed down, satoru pulled his cock out and flopped on his back next to you.

a comfortable silence fell upon the both of you before you broke it, "you know," he hummed in acknowledgement, "you were right." his head whips to the side to look at you, who was already turned towards him. "what about?", you smiled, looking at the ceiling, "you did take me to heaven, after all."

you crawled on top of him to kiss his scar, making him feel a bit tingly. he patted your head, "and I'd do it all over again just for you, love."

[floylia]

— your highness, my princess

The thrill of danger lingers in Childe’s veins more often than not. Bloodshed does not scare him. His blades have known him for almost a lifetime as he holds them dear day and night. He had once sworn to be used as a machine in battle, and he intends to keep it.

At the moment his blades swing against a wooden dummy as it holds on for dear life. From anyone watching his aggression is not something to be taken lightly. There’s blaze in his eyes, replaced by the lack of sparks. Sweat drips down from every direction of his body. But his stamina doesn’t break. He doesn’t stop. Because once he does, he���ll be back to reality.

A reality where he’s born to protect the crown and its heir.

To protect and serve someone that’s far from his grasp: you.

It haunts him, how his loyalty will forever be yours, but he can’t say the same for you. One day you’ll take up the crown, marry someone of the same status and have children of your own—all while he watches, so close yet so far.

So he swings. For every battle in the field. For every battle against himself to stop his heart from beating for you. For every time he forgets his place. For every time he lets go as only Ajax in your presence. For every time he wishes to be just a boy helplessly drowning in feelings he doesn’t deserve to have.

And for every time you visit him practicing privately in the early mornings.

“How long are you going to keep staring, your highness?” He was trained for this. He would know someone else’s presence, especially yours. It’s always you.

“How long are you going to keep practicing?” You cross your arms, borrowing his smile.

He can’t tell if his heart is beating rapidly from adrenaline or from the sweet smile of your face, “All day if that means I get to have your attention.”

“I didn’t see you this morning.”

“You’re incredibly needy, my princess”

“You’re aware of that.”

It’s bittersweet. How you can talk to each other acting like there’s no consequences. As if you’re walking in a limbo not caring if you fall. If only it was that easy. To cross the line. To push you off the edge so he can catch you and hold you in his arms like he does in his dreams.

He’d stay there for an eternity if he could have you.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head and reach up to his head with a cloth, swiping the drops of sweat from his forehead.

He closes his eyes and leans into the touch, “Did my princess miss me that much that she’d take her time to visit me in my quarters?”

“Aren’t you over-doing it?” You ask and he sees the evident concern form in your eyes.

He loves it. He loves your attention.

“You sound concerned, your highness. Do I take it you’re doubting my abilities?”

You shake your head, “It’s hard to find you around the palace. It’s as if you’re deliberately ignoring me.”

“Who would ever ignore the princess?” It almost sounds sarcastic, because maybe it is.

He has been avoiding you, rather he’s been ignoring his feelings and thoughts enveloping only you as he wakes. It’s hard to hold back when every silhouette he sees reminds him of you.

Then he sees a frown on your face. He hates that—that he’s the reason for your pain.

He clears his throat, “Would you like to go anywhere today, your highness?”

“I hate when you call me that.”

“It’s your title.”

“I’m your princess.”

“What difference would it make, your highness?” He’s riling you up the way you do to him as he inches closer to your face, until he can see the blush on your face down to your neck.

You stay there for a minute before you move away from him, “There’s a ball this evening.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. Anything you’d wish for me to do?”

“Don’t attend.”

He laughs but it’s an empty one, “One minute you’re looking for my attention and the next you’re pushing me away.”

“He’s going to be there.”

He flinches. He—the one you’re set to marry. At least that’s everyone’s expcrations, whether you pull through with it or not, only time will tell. He swears there’s an invisible knife twisting itself in his chest, agonizingly slow to make it more painful than it has to be.

“Why does that matter?” He asks and his eyes are burning brighter than before. He leans towards you once again, but this time it’s with purpose. Almost predatory. He’s backing you up in a corner until his arm stretches to the wall, trapping you in, “Why should I care about him?”

“Ajax.” You whisper, staring into his eyes as if you’re not fazed by his sudden action. Perhaps you’ve wanted this, and that thought excites him.

He tilts your neck upwards and his fingers rest there, tracing your jaw, “Why can’t I be there?”

He leaves his hand on your jaw and focuses on removing the strands of hair covering your neck line to get a better view—a part of him wants to dig into it, to claim it and tell the whole world that you’re reserved for him, “Are you afraid, your highness?”

He traces your body—his touch is hot and desperate as he snakes his hands along your waist and on your back, playing with the short ribbon holding your dress together as he loosens it slightly, “Will you let him touch you like this?”

You lean into him, hoping to feel his lips, but his only hovers above yours, “What would you do if I did?”

He chuckles, dangerously low. His hands lowered down your body, passing your dress, now caressing your legs in ways you enjoy—in ways he’s memorized before, “I’d kill him.”

You put your hands against his cheeks, “You’re killing me too.”

“Is that true, your highness?” His hands rest at the back of your thigh, lifting one leg up as he leans in, nipping at your ear. You gasp at his hot breath.

“Will you let him get this close too?” His attention moves to your neck. You tilt your head so he can have access to it, as he trails wet kisses along the side.

You wrap your arms around his neck as your fingers weave through his soft hair.

“You’re not giving me an answer,” His voice is hoarse.

“You’re not giving me a chance to answer.”

“If I didn’t, my lips would be on yours the whole time.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Impatient and needy. What would the people say if they found out the princess acts like this in private?”

You intertwine your hand with his and places it on top of your chest, so he can feel the rapid pace of your heart rising up and down, “You won’t let them see.”

“Don’t be so confident,” He moves up to your jaw.

“I didn’t take you to be someone who shared.”

His lips continued to hover yours. For a minute it feels like time surrendered their hands for the two of you, lending you a moment of peace in each other’s arms where birth given titles are replaced with vows of love.

This, out of all the life-threatening battles he has experienced has to be the most difficult fight he doesn’t think he can survive. But if it’s you holding the blade, if it’s you twisting the knife, then he’ll die happily.

If it means he can hold you like this. Touch you in ways another cannot.

“You’re right, I’m not.” He replies after the prolonged silence.

Then his lips are on yours, finally giving in to his urges. It starts off slow and patient, opposite of what he is. Then he wills your mouth open. He holds onto the back of your neck like a lifeline, pulling you closer each time you gasp for breath. It feels like hours passed, before you broke off the kiss, and he appears as if he’s desperate for more.

“You’re killing me, my princess.”

“Guess we’re even. Shall we continue in my chambers?” You say accompanied by a sweet smile and an innocent flutter of your eyes as you pull him closer, arms around his neck.

And who is he to refuse.

After all, you’re his princess, and he’s your knight—lawfully and willfully worshipping the cathedral of your chest, treasuring the heart that also keeps his beating.

[scented-morker]

Remember?

Shoutout to kiki for requesting from my Romance Untold event!! I love you mootie, I hope you like this!! exes to ?, Jake x fem!reader, 990 words, fluff.

Your friendgroup decideds to celebrate Valentine’s Day together. The only problem? You’re friends with your ex. And he doesn’t know how to act like he’s not in love with you.

Being friends with your ex was no big deal, really.

A small part of you liked to think it was the pinky promise you'd forced Jake to agree to the minute he asked you out romantically. "No matter what happens, we stay friends."

However, another, more honest part of you knew that even after a break up, Jake was just not the kind of person you could stay away from.

Which is how you ended up in this situation in the first place, a tray of heart shaped cookies in one hand, and a gift bag dangling from your fingers.

Spending Valentines Day with your friends was a much better option than spending it on the couch with a tub of ice cream mourning your newfound singleness. Now you just have to make it through a couple hours without accidentally falling back in love with Jake, no biggie.

"Yn!!" Sunoo cheers as soon as you enter the apartment, taking the tray out of your hands so you can shrug off your coat.

“About time you got here,” Sakura calls from the dining room.

A familiar voice comes next, and you hate the way your heart still reacts to it.

“You’d think after all these years you’d know yn is gonna show up fifteen minutes after what you tell her.”

You cross the threshold after kicking your shoes off, and snatch a throw pillow off Jays couch to toss at Jake.

“Easy girl,” he laughs, snatching it out of the air before it hits square in his face.

You roll your eyes and head through the living room towards the dining room where Sunoo has now set your cookies on the table with the rest of the treats your friends brought.

You greet Chaewon with a hug while she tells you about her work shift that morning.

Jay calls out for help setting the table, and the next thing you know the six of you are sat around the dining table, dishes littering the space in front of you.

A pan with steaks is being passed around, and you stare at them when it gets to you. It makes sense that Jay chose the fancy meat for the occasion, and you felt bad about how picky you were, knowing you probably wouldn’t eat most of it after cutting.

“That one’s for you,” Jake supplies helpfully from his seat next to you, picking up the tongs to grab one of the peices from the side and putting it on your plate.

He makes no further comment as he continues passing the tray.

However, once the conversation has started back up, he slides your plate closer to his own and reaches out with his knife.

“I told Jay you liked yours well done. I know you get freaked because you’re convinced it’s bleeding when you cut into it otherwise.” He says it with an airy laugh, not a care in the world as he cuts your steak into bite sized pieces.

When he’s done, he holds a piece up to your face, letting you get a look at it, cooked exactly the way you like.

You have to restrain yourself from kissing him right then and there, the fondness in his eyes and actions sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Thank you, Jake.”

He grins at you for a moment too long, his eyes boring into yours until Jay calls his name.

When you finally drag your own away from his figure, you’re met with a teasing look on Chaewon’s face.

You give her an impolite hand gesture before happily eating the rest of your meal, ignoring the way Jake’s knee bumps into yours under the table.

Soon enough, you’re spread out on the floor of the living room with a gift bag from a randomly assigned friend in front of each of you.

Everyone starts going through their bags, yelling and showing the person next to them in excitement.

From your spot on the floor, you don’t notice Jake on the couch behind you setting his bag next to him and opting to watch as you pull on pink tissue paper.

Inside is the newly released book you needed to finish your series, your favorite scent of perfume, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, and a sunflower Lego set.

Your head immediately whips towards Jake, finding him already looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

The legos were the exact set you helped him build after your first date, when you’d gone back to his apartment after dinner and slipped into one of his flannels while he dumped the pieces all over his bed.

You reason that a hug is reasonable considering he just got you an extremely thoughtful gift, but all thoughts of justifying it to your friends disappear as soon as Jake’s arms are around you.

You lean your head into his neck, his familiar cologne surrounding you as his hands run up and down your back.

“Thank you,” you mumble into him.

“You really thought I wouldn’t remember what you like? Please, give me a little credit.”

You let out a laugh, and Jake’s skin erupts into goosebumps at the feeling.

When you finally pull away from the hug, you get hit in the face with a ball of tissue paper, and you turn to find everyone staring at the two of you.

“Ok can you open the gift that I so carefully picked out for you now?” Jay asks, and Jake finally focuses on his own gift.

His left hand falls onto your shoulder as you sit back down on the floor in front of him, and you don’t make any attempt to move it.

When he gives Jay a hug for his gift, Sakura leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Why’d you two break up again?”

You flush red and swat at her, but as Jake’s hand returns to its spot on your shoulder you find yourself wondering the same thing.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Made Your Mark On Me

...a golden tattoo Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Your feelings for Dieter grow even stronger as you spend Christmas in London with him. Warnings: pov switching, christmas vibes, warren's a pos, pining, fluff, comfort, unprotected p in v sex, oral (f&m receiving), semi-public sex (in a dressing room), panty ripping, dieter's RICH, marijuana, alcohol, coke flashbacks, my google maps history knows a lot about the hyde park area of london Words: 7,800

A/N: Well folks, in true Gemini fashion, I've changed my mind. I know most of you voted for one mega chapter, but I think this arc is going to flow so much better as two. The next chapter is done, so expect that next week. My thanks to @devineconjuring for her eyes and dot eating and @schnarfer for her eyes and support. 💞

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist ✨✨✨

December 23

Early morning light seeps through the curtains. Dieter’s arm lays heavily draped over your waist, his breath steady against your neck. Just as you nestle closer into the warmth of his body, the silence is shattered by the beeping of his alarm. He stirs behind you, his arm tightening briefly before he reaches over to silence the intrusive sound. The mattress shifts as he sits up, and you instantly feel cold.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice deep with sleep. "I have to get ready for set."

When you roll over to face him, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

"You should go back to sleep," he whispers against your skin. "It's still early.”

You nod, already feeling the pull of slumber.

He kisses you once more before sliding out of bed. You watch through half-closed eyes as he stretches, his long, lean back rippling.

"I wish I could stay,” he whispers, bending over and cupping your face in his hands. "One more for the road,” he murmurs before giving you one last kiss.

He disappears into the bathroom. The shower turns on, and the steady sound of water flowing against the tiles helps you drift back to sleep.

—-

He wipes the condensation from the mirror, and the same brown eyes he’s known all these years stare back at him. They look different–not clouded under a druggy haze, not behind a red gloss after drinking too many glasses of expensive alcohol, not empty and hollow waiting for someone to focus on. They look bright, happy, and full of love. 

He dresses in the bedroom, careful not to wake you as he watches you nestled among the blankets, peacefully sleeping. He so badly wants to crawl back into bed and hold you close. But duty calls, and he knows the sooner he leaves, the sooner he can return.

One final day before the holiday break. He’s so glad you’re here–he couldn’t fathom not being with you for Christmas. Soon, he’ll have the whole week to spend entirely with you. He used to see these breaks as a reason to fly somewhere beautiful and far away with a suitcase full of drugs and drinks, maybe taking a pretty girl or boy–or both–with him. A reason to leave the stress of Hollywood behind, ignoring Christmas, where everyone is happy and full of love, and New Year’s, where everyone asks him how he’ll improve, as if they were calling him a fuck up. 

My, how times change. Now, domestic bliss swells in his heart when he pulls out two mugs, pouring himself a cup of coffee, leaving the sugar out for you. It’s a small gesture to make your morning better, and he’ll never tire of making you happy. 

In the living room, your robe lays in a heap on the rug, right where it fell from your shoulders last night. He picks it up, depositing it onto the chair by the bed before moving silently to your side. He’s careful not to disturb you as he leans over and leaves a kiss against your soft lips, slightly parted in slumber.

“I’ll be back soon, baby. I love you.”

—-

The sun shining in through the large windows warms you awake. Your mind clears, three softly whispered words echo through your head. The room feels empty without him, but you know there are only a few hours until you have a whole week with him. 

The smell of coffee and the leftover remnants of Dieter’s cologne tempt you out of bed. You choose his robe over your own, inhaling the scent of him before heading to the kitchen.

Signs of the night before are strewn amongst you as you enjoy your coffee on the couch–the same couch where your story with Dieter fundamentally changed. Two glasses of gin and tonic that have long gone flat sit on the table, a half-smoked joint lays in the crystal ashtray, and your phone sits on the chair, ignored since Dieter put the movie on. 

The corner near the window catches your eye and an idea lights in your mind and heart. Today, you’re going to get a Christmas tree for Dieter. After a quick shower and change of clothes, you bundle up under the warmth of his favorite brown coat and take the elevator down.

“Good morning, my lady,” Lamar greets you as you step out of the elevator. “Anything I can help you with on this lovely, cold December day?”

“Actually, yes,” you smile. “Dieter’s room is lacking a Christmas tree. Where can I get one? Preferably with lots of branches for ornaments?” “Ah,” Lamar’s eyes light up. “Leave that to me. I’ll get you two the finest tree in all of Britain. You just take care of the ornaments. I’ll get you a car.”

—-

“You’re needed on set in ten,” Court says with a sharp knock on his door.

“Alright,” he responds, sighing at his phone and staring at your last text.

I have a surprise for you when you get home.❣️

He can’t think about it too much. There’s a vital scene that he needs to get done before the break. Today has been filled with nothing but impatience and annoyance. He just wants to get back home to you.

Dieter takes a deep breath, pushing thoughts of you to the back of his mind. He needs to focus. What he has to do is crucial to the production, and he can't afford any distractions. Sometimes, he hates being an actor. 

The director calls action, and Dieter easily slips into character. But even as he delivers his lines, a part of him remains anchored to you back in that hotel room. To the feel of your lips, to the warmth of your body next to his, to the years of wanting you—and finally having you.

Hours pass in a blur of takes and retakes. Finally, the director calls it a wrap. Dieter hurries back to his trailer, shedding his costume and makeup as quickly as possible. And now, he has nine days with you.

—-

The door opens with a click and beep, and you quickly finish adjusting a branch before running to the entryway. 

Dieter lights up when he sees you, a wide, crinkling-eye-smile across his face.

“Hi, Sweets,” he says, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you. "I’m so happy to see you.” He inhales your scent, his lips meeting the juncture between your shoulder and neck.

“Hi. I have a surprise for you,” you sweetly tease. “Close your eyes.”

He pulls back, his eyes squeezed shut, the dimple on his cheek sitting deep with his smile. 

You grab his hand and lead him into the living room, the thrum of anticipation and excitement growing louder inside you with each step. 

“Okay,” you whisper, positioning him just right. “Open your eyes.” His eyes flutter open, and his jaw drops when he takes everything in.

A large Christmas tree adorned with tiny white lights is set up in the corner of the living room. Under it, bags from Liberty London and Selfridges sit filled with ornaments. 

“I figured we needed a proper Christmas tree.“

“I-I… Sweets, this is… amazing.”

“Yeah?”

He turns to you, tiny tears prickling at the sides of his eyes. “Yeah. This is surreal.”

Your heart pounds at that word. Surreal. The implication of his words last night before you drifted to sleep. Love. Love surreal. 

“I know,” you respond. “But it makes sense, right?”

“Fully.”

He wraps his arm around you, and your head rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. He sighs contentedly, the sound of it vibrating against your cheek.

“Shall we get changed into our finest robes and decorate it?” you suggest.

“I’d love nothing more.”

—-

Christmas carols softly play in the background as you unearth ornament after ornament from your shopping bags. He hasn’t decorated a tree in years, usually leaving it to his assistant to sort it out just because he feels obligated to have one. He often wondered what spending the holidays with you would be like. You always made things look so picturesque, always went above and beyond. He wanted that, and when he couldn’t have it, well, the holidays really never mattered.

The soft glow of the Christmas lights dance across your face as you carefully unwrap each ornament with wonder in your eyes. You’re so beautiful.

“Oh! I got these too,” you excitedly say, pulling a box of colored Christmas lights out of the bag. “I figured you love a colorful tree.”

You’re perfect.

—-

The tree is just what you hoped it would be, shimmering in the corner with a mix of twinkling white and rainbow lights. You’re proud of the ornaments you found that now cover it. A film camera for Dieter, a record player for you, a fuzzy raccoon for Dieter, a furry corgi for you, a basket of chips for Dieter, a cup of tea for you, and every single star-shaped ornament you could find.

“We did a good job, didn’t we?” you ask, sitting on the couch with the lights off, only sitting in the warmth of Dieter and the tree’s glow. He sparks the joint, the lighter and the tree reflected in his big, brown eyes. 

“Mm, we did,” he responds, blowing out a plume of smoke before laying down and placing his head in your lap. 

“This is nice,” you say as you reach down and grab the joint from his lips to take a hit. 

You play with Dieter's hair, occasionally trailing your fingertips along his jawline or tracing the shell of his ear. He leans over and stubs out the joint, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss against it. “I’m really happy you’re here. Surreal, right?”

“So surreal,” you whisper.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 24

Silver bells…

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you and Dieter sway to the crooning voices of Christmas carols. Dieter's arms are secure around your waist. You’re both clad in matching flannel pajamas. All you can feel in this moment is the warmth of his body and the joy inside you.

He pulls away with a wide smile lighting up his face. “I have something for you. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.” He takes your hand and leads you to sit down in front of the Christmas tree, where he pulls out a small, clumsily wrapped box from behind it. "I wrapped it myself.”

You tear off the Rudolph-themed paper and open the velvet box, revealing a golden chain bracelet adorned with delicate charms–a camera, a shooting star, a biscuit for your tea, a bee for your garden, a mixtape, and a pig with wings (“because when pigs fly, right?).

“I tried to find a charm for everything that made me think of you,” Dieter softly says. 

Running your finger over each one, you feel like finally, after all these years, someone truly sees you.

"It's perfect," you say, awe in your voice. “Thank you.”

You reach out your wrist to him, and he gently fastens the bracelet's clasp. You’re enamored by how the golden charms glisten in the light when you shake your wrist back and forth.

“Surreal,” Dieter says as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your inner wrist, just below the bracelet.

Slowly, he trails kisses up your arm. You shiver, your free hand coming up to tangle in his hair when he nuzzles into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder before he licks his way up to your lips.

His hand cups your face, his thick thumb softly caressing your cheek as his lips meet yours. He deepens the kiss before guiding you to lie back on the floor. You feel his warmth as he covers you. An unfamiliar emotion you haven’t felt in years swells in your heart. He pulls away, his eyes roaming over your face with a small smile, the Christmas tree lights twinkling in his eyes.

You unbutton your top before shrugging it off. He takes in the sight of you before he lowers his head and presses soft kisses along your collarbone. He makes a path down to the swell of your breasts, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and desire.

A gasp escapes your lips when his mouth closes over your nipple, his hand cupping your other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.

Your back arches into his touch, Dieter’s lips curling into a smile against your skin as he trails kisses down your stomach until he reaches the apex of your legs. He wraps his fingers around the waistband of your plaid pajama pants before tugging gently. “It’s a shame. I loved matching with you, but these have to go, baby.” The flannel slides down your legs smoothly, his lips following the path, leaving a trail of warm kisses along your thighs.

He pauses at your knee, nuzzling the soft skin before continuing downward. When he reaches your ankle, a final kiss is pressed to the delicate bone before removing your pants.

He makes his way back up, his hands caressing your calves, knees, and thighs before he parts your legs and settles between them. His breath is warm against your inner thigh as he places sweet kisses there.

Brown eyes meet yours, the Christmas lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors inside his eyes as his tongue darts out and tastes you. His eyes flutter shut, a long, low groan vibrating against you as his tongue traces every fold and curve of you with reverent devotion. His fingers join in, parting you as he laps at your clit. 

Carding your fingers through his hair to urge him closer, your moans overpower the Christmas carols playing through the speakers.

Two thick fingers are slid inside you, slowly fucking you as your hips buck against his face. He hums against you, the sweet vibrations lighting you from within.

You’re panting for him, rolling your hips and clutching at your chest as his mouth and fingers work you. Just as you’re about to cum, he pulls back, making you whine at the loss. But before you can protest, Dieter’s already moving up your body.

The taste of you is left upon your lips when he kisses you, his tongue covered in your slick, licking against yours. You can feel the heaviness of him between your thighs, gently pressing against you. 

He breaks the kiss, pulling away to look into your eyes as he slowly pushes inside, both of you gasping and smiling. 

"You feel incredible," he sighs, peppering kisses along your jaw. "So perfect."

He languidly moves inside you, savoring the feel. His forehead rests against yours, your breaths mingling as he rocks into you.

He’s so beautiful, lit by the Christmas lights–the glow makes him look almost ethereal. His broad shoulders cast shifting shadows as he moves above you. Your hands move down to the plush of his stomach, your nails raking across his skin. You wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him into you deeper. He buries his face into your neck, groaning as he fucks into you faster.

“Dee,” you breathe before he lifts his head to kiss you again, swallowing your moans and gasping into your mouth. 

His movements falter as he gets closer. Your back arches as your whole body tightens and then trembles. You cry out his name as your orgasm flows through your body, setting you alight as your walls clench Dieter’s cock. The sensation pushes him over the edge as he groans your name, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. It’s so warm, the heat of it filling you.

You cling to him as he collapses on top of you, both your bodies quivering with aftershocks. Dieter softly kisses along your neck and jaw as you both catch your breath.

He lifts his head, glancing over at the clock above the doorway that now reads 12:01 AM.

“Merry Christmas, Sweets.”

“Merry Christmas, Dee.”

—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 25

Steady breaths against your neck slowly wake you. Dieter's arms are wrapped around you, your bare skin pressed against his. You turn, careful not to wake him, drinking in the sight of him. His face is relaxed in sleep, long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His chaotic hair is even more mussed, a stray lock falling across his forehead. You reach out to gingerly brush it away before touching the glinting gold earring in his ear. A surge of affection lights your body. This moment–waking up with Dieter on Christmas morning in London–feels almost magical and unbelievable. You lean in, pressing your lips softly to his.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper against his mouth.

He stirs, his brown eyes fluttering open. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face as he focuses on you. "Merry Christmas, baby," he says, voice deep with sleep. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him.

You kiss him again, deeper this time. He responds eagerly, one hand sliding up to tangle in your hair as you begin to move your body against his.

He rolls you onto your back before entering you slowly, groaning at how wet and ready you already are for him.

“God damn,” he sighs as he slowly fucks you. “Merry Christmas to me. You’re the best gift ever.”

You have the most relaxed Christmas morning you’ve ever had. Dieter has spoiled you–piles of wrapping and tissue paper are strewn across the suite, and a pile of gifts lies next to you. Designer and vintage clothes, cute trinkets, sparkling jewelry, a hand-bound journal with your initial embossed on the cover, a crystal rolling tray, a new frame for “a photo of us.” Everything is perfect and so well thought out by Dieter.

The small stack of gifts from you is grouped next to him. He holds up the ALF plush you knitted for him, knowing it’s one of his favorite shows ever.

“I can’t believe you made me this. It's… amazing, baby. Definitely my favorite gift ever.”

“You said that to me last night when you stuck your dick in me. So it’s ALF and then me?”

His jaw drops before lifting to smile. “God, you’re funny.”

He looks around the room, taking in everything before he reaches for his iPad.

“So, I have something else for you, but it’s, uh,” he lifts his hand, nervously rubbing his neck. “It’s not here, and it’s not done yet."

You arch an eyebrow, looking at him with a hint of puzzlement.

He beckons you over with his finger. “Come here.”

You crawl through the sea of crinkly paper into his lap, the back of your head resting against his chest.

A video plays of an artist painting delicate stars around a woman who looks similar to you, emerging from shadows into a luminous golden space.

“This is Layla Profar. She’s an up-and-coming artist who uses pure gold in her paintings. I told her your story, and this is what she’s painting. For you. She’s been working around the clock to finish it.”

Tears well in your eyes at the thoughtfulness. Nobody’s ever done or given anything like this to you.

"This is how I see you,” he says, his voice low against your ear. “Stepping out from what held you back, coming into your own. Away from Warren. You're free now, Golden Girl.” You stare at the painting, seeing a mirror of your own journey, tears falling down your cheeks.

A sniffle and a small sob alert him to your tears. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

“That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl. Full of life and warmth and delight.” He nuzzles into your neck, leaving a soft kiss against your skin before he breathes you in.

You want to say the three words that spill out of your heart and up to your mouth, but you stay silent, quietly crying as he cradles you, gently rocking you back and forth.

“You like it, right?” he asks after a bit.

You choke out a laugh, turning to face him, tears still streaming down your face. His eyes search yours, a flicker of uncertainty in them.

“I love it,” you whisper. “Dee, this is the most thoughtful, beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.” Relief washes over his handsome face, a smile blooming across it. “Yeah?”

You reach up, cradling his head between your hands, the stubble of his jaw prickling against your palms. You seal your mouth over his in a tender kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion swelling in your chest into him. He crushes you against his broad chest, tightening his arms around you.

He pulls back, the small tears in his eyes mirror your own.

“Our first Christmas together, Golden Girl.”

—-

A small, sated smile still lights your face as you peacefully slumber next to him. He pulls you closer, marveling at how perfectly you fit against him.

He thinks back on the past few days–decorating the Christmas tree together, exchanging gifts, making love under the twinkling lights, sharing meals and joints with easy laughter. It's the happiest he's ever been.

For the first time, the holidays truly feel special and magical, filled with joy and… love. Because he loves you, wholly and completely. He’s known it for so long. For years. But sharing this Christmas with you has only solidified what his heart already knew–you are his Golden Girl, his person, the one he wants to spend every Christmas, birthday, and lazy Sunday morning with for the rest of his days.

For so long, he thought he could never have this, never dared to imagine he deserved you. His life has been a whirlwind of chaos—film sets, red carpets, shallow flings, a failed marriage, pills of different sizes and strengths, empty bottles of alcohol. But then there was you–his beautiful, talented, funny friend who always saw past the celebrity. Who saw him.

He leaves a kiss against your forehead before he also falls asleep with a smile.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 26

Dieter shuffles behind you as you rub face cream on your cheeks, a towel wrapped around your body fresh from the shower you two shared.

“Are you sure we’ll be okay?” you ask

“I’m sure. They don’t care about all this,” he says, gesturing wildly, “and all the celebrity bullshit like they do at home.”

He thinks you like staying in, away from the prying eyes of the public. Still unable to realize how free you are from Warren’s influence and watchful eyes.

He remembers the first time he met you. He, Warren, and some friends were out celebrating his multi-episode arc on some procedural police drama. He spotted you across the hazy bar, surrounded by your girlfriends, your smile wide and your dress gold, sparkling under the dim lights.

He made his way over to you, the gravity of your pull too much for him to ignore. He asked you to dance, and you giggled, taking his hand. He pulled you close, and from that moment on, you’ve been the only girl he’s ever wanted. He told you he was an actor. You confided in him then that was always your dream. He felt brave, his self-esteem boosted by the new role. He couldn’t resist you, his lips seeking yours, cutting off your cheerful giggle, tasting the sweet alcohol left in your mouth.

And then… he went to snort some lines in the bathroom, only to return to find Warren spinning you across the dance floor, the same smile you gave him, the same kiss you shared now given to his friend.

He was too high to care that night. Funny how the lines of coke in that disgusting bathroom would come to haunt him for years.

Now, as he helps you shuffle into your jacket, turning you around to button it up before sweetly kissing you, those ghosts are replaced by a hopeful future with you.

“Come on, baby,” he says, grabbing your hand. “I want to take you shopping.”

—-

The wind is crisp against your cheeks as you and Dieter walk hand in hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your skin as you make your way towards Harrod’s.

“I’m so excited,” you beam as the grand building comes into view. You lead him to a window, pausing in front of it and taking in the festive display. You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad I get to see this with you.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Me too.”

To call Harrod's busy on Boxing Day is an understatement. You’ve never seen such a whirlwind of activity before. Your and Dieter’s eyes light up as you both take everything in.

His hand never leaves yours as you weave through the crowds, getting lost in the maze of sections, taking in the displays and glittering lights.

"Look at these," you say, holding up a pair of plush, fuzzy slippers adorned with a smiling corgi face. "Aren't they adorable?"

“Get ‘em,” he smiles, his eyebrows rising above his sunglasses. “And get me a pair, too.”

—-

A kind shopping attendant named Phineas effortlessly holds on to the many bags and boxes piling up high.

“Oh, that’s so pretty,” you exclaim, pointing to an emerald green silk scarf adorned with delicate golden stars. Dieter plucks it from the display.

“I don’t really need it. I just thought it was pretty.”

“Yeah, but I want to see you in only this later tonight,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. “It’ll look good against your skin.”

You chuckle and shake your head as you lead him into another section.

He loves spoiling you. He loves the way you get shy and flustered as he keeps adding more and more items to Phineas’s arms.

“I won't have enough room,” you sigh as he tucks a Judith Lieber Ticket to Space clutch under his arm. “Poor Phineas is suffering.”

“Bullshit,” he says with a doting smile. “I’ll mail it to you.” 

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his “wallet”—a paper clip-secured stack of pounds and credit cards. He hands Phineas a platinum card and a stack of £50 notes. “Do me a favor, Phin. Get this all packaged up and delivered to the Mandarin for me. Keep the cash. Merry Boxing Day.”

“Yes, sir, thank you!” Phineas exclaims before he departs.

Dieter watches him leave, a roguish grin on his face. “Let’s go see what lingerie this place has to offer, huh?”

—-

Harrod's has a LOT of lingerie choices to offer… and a private dressing room. Dieter sits on a luxe blush pink velvet couch, waiting for you to appear from behind the curtain.

You take a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the matching bra and panty set you found. The dark blue fabric is almost sheer, and golden stars embroidered across the delicate lace shimmer as you check yourself out in the mirror. The bra cups lift and shape your breasts, the matching thong sits low on your hips. You’re going to drive Dieter crazy.

With a surge of confidence from how you look, you open the curtain and step out. Dieter throws his sunglasses off, his eyes widening and lips parting as he takes in the sight of you.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes.

You saunter over, standing in front of him. He throws his head back as he struggles to maintain his composure, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. When he looks at you again, his eyes turn dark.

“Turn around.”

You comply, slowly spinning to give him a view of your ass. He leans forward, placing a kiss against the supple shape of it. You chuckle, shaking your head at how needy he is for you.

“Fuck, you look so fucking good. Wish I could scoop you up in my arms and carry you out of here.”

He makes you feel confident, sexy, and… brave.

“Dee, we can be quick.”

A huge smile breaks across his face as he reaches forward, pulling you on top of him. He fumbles with the drawstrings of his pants, quickly pulling them down. He tangles the flimsy lace of the expensive thong in his hand before he rips it off.

“Oh my god! We haven’t bought that yet.”

“Don’t care, I’ll buy you ten more,” he growls.

He grips your hips, lifting you slightly before guiding you onto his hard length. You both groan as he fills you completely. His hands move to cup your ass, encouraging you to ride him.

“Fast, baby. Fuck me fast,” he groans before leaning forward and kissing you. His hands roam your body before he palms your breasts through the lace of the bra, his thumbs brushing over the hard peaks of your nipples.

There’s a thrill of potentially getting caught that makes you ride him harder, roll your hips with more force, and bite your lip to stifle your moans and sighs.

You’ve never done something like this before–so risque, so close to getting caught. The suspense pushes you over the edge. Your body trembles as you orgasm on his cock, squeezing and clenching, urging him to cum. Dieter follows right after, burying his face in your neck to muffle his groan as he spills inside you.

You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing heavily. After a moment, Dieter chuckles softly. "Well, I think I liked that set.”

You giggle. “Me too. I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Whatever designer that is, buy everything they have.”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 27

You’ve been in London for five days, and tonight is the first night you’re actually leaving the hotel room for dinner. Yesterday, Dieter told you to surprise him and pick a dress, telling you he wanted to take you out on a proper date.

You’ve been holed up in the guest bedroom, digging through various Harrod’s bags and boxes, pulling out makeup, hair products, and jewelry to complete your outfit.

A light knock on the door catches your attention as you pull on your brand-new boots.

“The car’s here,” Dieter says at the door. “Reservation’s in twenty, Sweets.”

“Coming!” you shout.

—-

Dieter buttons up his plaid wool jacket, his fingers freezing on the last button when he looks up and sees you. The gold mini dress you’re wearing clings to your body, reminding him so much of the dress you wore the first night you met. The hem falls mid-thigh, your legs clad in black tights that end in knee-high boots. But what really catches his eye is the green scarf covered in golden stars that you’ve tied around your neck. He knew it’d look gorgeous against your skin. He wants to say fuck it and cancel the reservation right then and there.

“Wow, you look stunning, baby.”

“Thanks,” you shyly respond, smoothing down the front of your dress. “Is it too much?” You ask, glancing down at the top swell of your breasts framed by the v-neck neckline.

“Fuck no,” he chuckles. “It’s perfect. Though, maybe we should stay in.”

“No, Dee. I’m starving, and you promised me a proper date.”

He pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re right, let’s go.”

—-

The plates have long been cleared, and your glass is filled with more melted ice than gin and tonic. You haven’t been on an actual date in years.

Warren used to wine and dine you, take you to the fanciest restaurants, and surprise you with flowers. Then, your nights spent together dwindled, and the bouquets disappeared. It was then up to you to grow your own flowers.

The streets outside the restaurant are busy. Londoners walk, bundled up in coats, scarves, and hats, clouds of condensation puffing out from between their lips. You wonder if they’re all as happy as you are right now. Your hand in Dieter’s as he regales you with a story about a mismatched dance belt fiasco from his theatre days.

The candlelight flickers in his bright brown eyes and the dimple carved in his cheek is deeper as he smiles. He’s so gorgeous, it’s hard to believe it took you this long to give yourself this moment. Your lips tingle when you think about leaning over and kissing him, but you don’t. You’ll thank him for this night once you get back home.

“Dee,” you interrupt as he continues his story. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you get the check?” You ask before glancing around and leaning in closer to him. “I’d like to go back home and suck your cock.” 

The table clangs and clatters as Dieter stands quickly, throwing a large wad of money on the surface before grabbing your hand. 

—

As soon as the elevator doors close, you’re on him, your lips capturing his.

“Whoa, baby,” he chuckles as you suck on his lower lip.

“Want… to… thank… you…” you say, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Fuck.”

He lifts you into his hold, your legs wrapping around his waist.

The elevator dings open, and he stumbles out. Your kisses turn to licks along his jaw and down his neck. You’re already moaning for him, and he fumbles with the key card until, finally, the door beeps and swings open.

You’re already sliding down his body when the door shuts, hands trailing over his stomach as you sink to your knees, your fingers working at his belt buckle.

“Jesus, baby,” he groans, head falling back against the wall as you free his hardening cock from his pants.

He lets out an audible gasp when you look up at him through your lashes, a coy smile playing on your lips before you take him into your mouth.

He’s not a strong man. He’s thought of this so many times throughout the years. Your mouth all over him, not his spit-covered palm. The sound of your moans vibrating against his cock as you take him in deeper, not his soft whimpers as he jerks himself off. Your pretty face covered in his cum, not his hand and stomach.

Now, his thumbs feel the softness of your cheeks, hollowing and sucking him harder. He hears the soft keens mixed with the wet slurp as your tongue swirls around his head. His knees get weak right as your hand cups his balls, gently squeezing and massaging them.

He can already feel the rush of bliss overtaking his body. He knows he’s leaking against your tongue, and when you pull his cock out of your mouth, slapping it against your lips, he cums all over you.

Your jackets haven’t even been removed–the only sign of anything uncouth happening is his softening dick and your pretty face covered in his cum.

He can’t believe his luck, looking down at you smiling wide as you collect a dollop of him on your thumb and suck it off with a sweet “mmm.”

God, he loves you.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 28

“Man, I miss Lucky Charms,” Dieter sighs as he stirs a spoonful of sugar into his coffee.

“You should have told me. I could have packed you some.”

“Damn, good point. Well, I’ll be home in a few weeks at least.”

Home. Your vacation will soon be over. Your flight is booked for the 2nd. You know you need to get back home. Once Dieter goes back to filming, you’ll never see him, and you can’t stay cooped up in this hotel suite waiting—and distracting him. But damn, you don’t want to leave.

You wonder what the future holds for the two of you once he returns to Los Angeles. Has something fundamentally shifted between the two of you? You can’t imagine being in the same city as him but not together.

You're pulled from your thoughts by Dieter's hand on yours. "Hey, where'd you go just now?" he asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Just thinking about going home," you say with a small shrug.

His face falls slightly. “It’ll only be a few weeks.”

“I know, I just… I’m going to really miss you. Like a lo—”

Your phone dings, interrupting your confession. You look down.

notwarrengharding posted a tweet

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you remind yourself for the hundredth time to turn off notifications for him as you go to Twitter.

It’s a photo. Of you—and Dieter—at the restaurant he took you to last night. Your head is thrown back in laughter, your smile wide. He’s grinning at you, his hand on yours, with his dark brown eyes glowing in the low light. You look like a couple in love.

You’re enamored by the photo until you notice Warren’s retweeted a celebrity gossip account with the eye-rolling emoji and the quote: “Trust is earned, respect is given, and loyalty is demonstrated.”

Your stomach drops. How dare he. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. Handing Dieter the phone.

His face sets in anger after his eyes widen when he sees the photo.

“Fuck, indeed.”

Panic sets in. That’s a paparazzi photo.

You knew this would happen eventually, but you weren't prepared for it to be so soon. And you certainly weren't prepared for Warren to chime in. Dread settles in your stomach.

“That’s… everywhere now. All over. W-Warren knows and-”

"And what?" Dieter interrupts gently. "So he knows we're together. Is that such a bad thing? He’s just being a petty asshole. Sweets, all that matters is what we have together here, nobody else. I’ve waited so long for this. For us. Fuck everyone else.”

“I just… I remember what happened with Anika, and I don’t want that to happen to me.” A tear falls down your cheek.

He gets up, kneeling down in front of you and gathering your hands in his. “Baby, look at me. Everything that happened between Ani and I was only because, for so long, I tried to recreate what I felt for you, what I thought you and Warren had, and I failed miserably at it. You’re my golden girl, only you.”

“I just… I don’t want this to cause problems for you. With your career or the press or-”

He cuts you off with a soft kiss. “Fuck everyone else, okay, baby?”

—-

You’re quiet today, keeping your face stuck behind a book you bought at Harrod's while Dieter studies his lines for the upcoming shoot days.

He tries to focus on his script, but his eyes keep drifting to you, curled up on the couch. Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you read, but he can see the tension in your shoulders. He knows you're still upset about the photo and Warren's post.

He sets the script aside and moves to sit next to you on the couch. Gently, he tugs the book from your hands. You look up at him, your eyes clouded with worry.

"Talk to me, Sweets," he says softly. "What's really bothering you?"

You sigh, leaning into him as he wraps an arm around you. "I'm scared, Dee. Everything felt so perfect before and… I don't know. I don't want to lose this."

Dieter pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're not going to lose me. Or this. I know my track record isn't great, but you're different. You've always been different."

He tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. "I meant what I said earlier. Fuck everyone else. All that matters is you and me.”

He regrets so many parts of his past but never meeting you. Now that he has you, he’ll never let you go. The future used to always freak him out, but now, with you, it’s something he can’t wait for.

—-

There’s a cloud over the hotel suite, full of uncertainty and fear.

You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words blur together as your mind races. The photo of you and Dieter keeps flashing in your thoughts, along with Warren's tweet.

You can almost hear his voice, dripping with fake concern as he shares the image with mutual friends, painting himself as the wronged party.

"Did you see this? I can't believe she'd do this to me…"

Bullshit. Warren left you. You shouldn’t feel guilty for moving on, for finding happiness with someone else… even if it is with Dieter. And yet…

You can’t fathom thinking about the tabloids and gossip sites, the way they’ve molded Dieter into whatever narrative they decide will sell. Tragic drug-addicted actor has-been, drunken playboy who has a new person to fuck every other week, happily married man who found love with a hotel receptionist, heart-breaking divorcee who will never find love, charming darling who booked a comeback project… you’ve seen them all.

But you know Dieter. He’s the most caring, sweetest, and thoughtful man you’ve ever met. You’re damn lucky to have had him as a friend, even luckier to have him in whatever way this is now.

Dieter sets his script aside, wrapping an arm around you. You feel the anxieties already disappearing, his touch reminding you of why this is all worth it.

His brown eyes, filled with concern, meet yours. “Fuck everyone else,” he whispers against your lips before pressing his gently against yours. 

—-

It’s one of those nights, the one where he’d typically toss and turn before getting up and downing a couple of sleeping pills with a whiskey chaser, but tonight, he simply lies awake. Your body nestled close, your smooth skin against his. There’s something about sharing a bed with you that still feels so foreign to him. Years of yearning to feel your touch, and now he has it. It still doesn’t feel real.

He remembers a couple of months after he had met you, you called him in a panic, saying your car had broken down on the freeway near the apartment he and Warren shared in Burbank. He grabbed his keys and bolted out the door. He couldn’t bear the thought of you alone and scared on the side of the road.

When he pulled up, he saw you, small and vulnerable, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your face flashing from worry to relief as you recognized him approaching.

He jumped out of his car, rushing to your side. The sight of you, tears streaking your cheeks and mascara smudged under your eyes, made his chest ache. The flat tire was obvious.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here now,” he soothed, pulling you into his arms without thinking. You melted against him, your body shaking slightly as tears started to fall.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Thank you. I-I didn’t know who else to call. Warren and I… we’re not really talking right now, and I don’t have a spare and can’t afford a tow.” Your lower lip quivered as fresh tears spilled over.

"You can always call me, no matter what. I'll always come for you."

He was broke as hell, waiting for a residual check to come through, but he didn’t hesitate to call for a tow truck and pay for it. He drove you home and dropped you off. You leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you, Dee. You’re my hero.”

As he watched you walk into your apartment building, he knew he was in deep. He would do anything for you. Like waiting years and years to finally have you in his arms.

Now that he has you, he’ll be damned if he lets anybody or anything come in between you. Whether it’s shitty ex-husbands, tabloids, or his own demons, he’s not going to let anything ruin this.

He thinks about the future, years down the line. Lazy mornings in bed, walking hand-in-hand through flea markets, laughing over shared meals. He pictures you by his side at red-carpet events, the cameras flashing around the two of you, a wide smile across his face as he shows off his golden girl. 

He sneaks out of bed, careful not to wake you, and throws his robe on before grabbing his phone. The air is cool as he opens the door, quickly walking out onto the same balcony he used to spend his late nights and early mornings on talking to you. He does the familiar math in his head. It’s 2 AM in London and only 6 PM in Los Angeles.

It only takes two rings for Alex to pick up.

“Bravo. It’s late there. Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. Listen, those photos of me and Sweets at the restaurant…”

“We’re aware.”

“Take care of them. I don't want her dragged into this. Make sure the tabloids know she's off-limits."

Alex sighs on the other end. "You know how this works. Once it's out there—"

"I don't care," he interrupts. "Use whatever connections you have. Call in favors. I'll do extra press, more interviews…” Dieter looks over when he hears the door open. You’re wrapped in a sheet, your tired eyes blinking back at him. “Whatever it takes. Just keep her name out of it."

There’s a pause before Alex responds. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Alex,” he sighs and hangs up as you lay your body over his. You’re still warm from the bed, covering and comforting him like a blanket.

“Was that call about me?” you ask, your voice still soft and sleepy.

“Mm, it was.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Dee, Not for me. I’ll get over it, I’ve had to get over worse.”

“Sweets, look at me. I’ll do anything to keep you happy and protect you. I—” he struggles to say the truth, but he doesn’t want to complicate today for you even more. “Anything. You know that, right?”

You cuddle in closer to him. “I know,” you whisper. “I’d do anything for you too.”

“Anything?” he asks. “Do you think we could go inside? I can’t feel my toes.”

—

 “Fuck everyone else.” Dieter’s words echo in your mind.

A simple phrase, really, yet so powerful coming from him. The way he sprang into action, calling his agent in the middle of the night to shield you. You can’t remember the last time Warren made such a sacrifice for you–if he ever did. 

You nestle deeper into Dieter’s warm, strong arms wrapped around you, protected by his actions and steady breathing as he sleeps. 

You try to recall a single instance where Warren put your needs before his own. The memories are hazy, obscured by years of neglect and indifference. Your husband always focused on his own image and career. You were an accessory to be shown off when it suited him and ignored when it didn’t.

But here, in Dieter’s arms, you feel cherished. Valued. Protected. And… in love.

✨✨✨ A/N: Next chapter next week. Thank you for reading! Please feel free to yell at me. 💞

Alternative chapter header. ALF FOREVER

✨✨✨ Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @ohheypedrito Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69

[cozmowrites]

The Fire Burns Out

ooc: cheating

===

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. You sat on the couch, staring at the television screen displaying a paused scene from a movie you'd stopped paying attention to.

It had been a week since Bakugou came home late, smelling of someone else's perfume, and three days since you had confronted him about it.

Even now, the echo of his words replayed in your head, sharp and cutting.

"It didn't mean anything, alright?" He had snapped, his voice raw. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this." Why would he say something like that?

The argument had spiraled out of control, leaving behind wounds that words couldn't heal. His guilt was there, you saw it in his eyes. But it wasn't enough to stop him. Not enough to fight for you the way you had always fought for him.

Your fingers traced the rim of your coffee mug. Four years. Four long years together, and it all felt like it was unraveling at the seams. You remembered the beginning.

The way he shyly asked you out in your third year of high school, his cheeks flushed as he tried to play it cool. He loved you. The way he'd held your hand for the first time, his touch hesitant but warm.

You had believed in him, in the fire that burned so brightly in his soul. But now, that fire felt cold, its embers scattered.

The front door clicked open, and you heard his boots against the floor. He didn't announce himself like he used to. No, "I'm home," or teasing remarks about your taste in TV dramas. Instead, he walked straight to the kitchen, avoiding your gaze.

"Late night again?" You asked, keeping your voice even. You wanted to cry, but you had to show how u bothered you were. Just to get through it.

"Work," he muttered, not looking at you as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Work," you repeated bitterly. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

His movements froze, and for a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he turned to face you, his crimson eyes hard but tired.

"What do you want me to say, (Y/n)?" he asked, his voice low. "That I'm sorry? I already said it. What more do you want from me?"

"I want the truth," you shot back, standing up. "I want to know why. Why her? Why now? After everything we've been through, Katsuki, how could you—" Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it.

His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It just happened, alright? I don't know what else to tell you!"

"You don't know?" You said, your voice rising. Cracking. "You don't know why you decided to throw away four years like it was nothing?"

"It's not like that!" He snapped, his own temper flaring. "Stop acting like I don't care about you, because I do!"

"Do you?" You challenged, stepping closer to him. "Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it. You haven't looked at me the same in months, Katsuki. I'm not stupid. I know you've been pulling away, but I thought—" Your voice broke again, and you took a shaky breath. "I thought we could fix it."

His silence was deafening, and for the first time, you saw it in his eyes—resignation. He wasn't going to fight for you.

"Maybe we can't," he said quietly, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. The tears you'd been holding back spilled over, and you turned away from him, covering your face with your hands.

"God, you're such a coward," you choked out. "You'd rather cheat than talk to me. You'd rather hurt me than admit you're falling out of love. How did we get here, Katsuki?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice softer now. "I don't know, (Y/n)."

The fight drained out of you, leaving behind a hollow ache. You sat back down on the couch, burying your face in your hands.

"I loved you," you whispered. "I still do. But maybe that's not enough anymore."

Bakugou stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked like he wanted to say something, to reach out to you, but he didn't. Instead, he turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with your broken heart.

+++

The days that followed were a blur of cold silence and awkward avoidance. You both went through the motions, pretending you could coexist in the same space without addressing the chasm that had grown between you.

One night, you found yourself scrolling through old photos on your phone. There was one from your high school graduation, the two of you grinning like idiots with your arms around each other. Another from your first vacation together, where he had carried you on his back after you twisted your ankle hiking.

You missed that version of him. The version who looked at you like you were his entire world.

But people changed. Love changed. And as much as it hurt, you couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

+++

The final fight came a week later.

"I'm moving out," you said, breaking the silence as you packed your suitcase.

Bakugou stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, his expression unreadable. "So that's it, huh?"

"What else is there to say?" You asked, not looking at him. "We've been pretending like this can work, but it can't. Not anymore."

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "You're giving up."

You laughed bitterly, turning to face him. "I'm not the one who gave up, Katsuki. You did. The moment you decided she was worth more than us, you gave up. I'm just finally accepting it."

His gaze dropped, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But he didn't. Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "But sorry doesn't fix this. It doesn't fix us."

You finished packing and zipped up your suitcase. As you walked past him, he reached out and grabbed your wrist.

"(Y/n)," he said, his voice cracking.

You looked at him, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of the boy you had fallen in love with. But it wasn't enough to make you stay.

"Goodbye, Katsuki," you said, gently pulling your hand away.

And with that, you walked out the door, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything.

+++

masterlist ⟢

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[mybelovedsylus]

Listen team, it’s been one of those days. So here’s me service - aka it’s a really fluffy piece of Sylus just showing up and being there for MC. Literally just garbage fluff- enjoy, and feel free to send me any headcannons or requests you would like to see. I’m finally writing again for the first time in years, and it makes me really happy to explore these worlds again. As always I didn’t proofread - it’s just a thing with me, I know forgive it. If I reread to correct it, I will never be happy with it so it is what it is.

_____________________________________________________________________________

It was one of those days where she felt like she was about to unravel, like the next breath could very well result in the collapse of her being - or at least her sanity. It had started at work. Her coworker had decided to go behind her back on a mission, screwing her over for what was supposed to be her next assignment. Next, she found her lunch had disappeared from the communal fridge, and so as she’s sitting at her desk eating the stale protein bar from the back of her drawer she gets an email that causes her to cuss under her breath. Finally the day comes to a close, and as she’s walking back to her apartment, the sky lets out a torrential downpour, soaking her to the very core. Then when she gets back to her apartment, the power is out. Luckily Mephisto had already been waiting and her phone rang a mere moment after she came to the realization, flipping the switch repeatedly with no change in results. Although she wondered if Mephisto reported back how long she stared at his picture and name on the screen, an internal war raging as she tried to decide if it was even worth picking up. Ultimately she had, which is how she found herself standing on the side of the road waiting for Sylus to pull up.

The wind was biting now that the sun had set. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, pulling the coat closer to her frame as she tried to shrink back into the wall of the building. She’s tired, irritated, wet and her mood is darkening by the moment. When he finally pulls up, she’s ready to lose it. Not that anything is his fault, but her emotional regulation is shot at this point. At least, that’s what she thinks until he’s out of the car hauling her soaked and freezing frame directly into his warm embrace.

“Come on kitten, there’s a hot dinner waiting in the car and we’ll go N109 speeds back to base,” he mutters in a soft voice, his hand smoothing down her hair, and the dam breaks. She fists her hands into his shirt and finds herself sobbing into his chest. They’re both shocked. She’s never one to cry, to let her emotions out quite so freely, and yet at this moment there’s nothing she can do to hold it back. She feels his arm sweep under her legs as he hoists her with ease, setting her down in the passenger seat and jogging back over to the driver’s side. He turns the seat warmer to max, and passes her a bag full of her favorites from the burger place down the road.

“Let’s get you fed, showered, and then we can hang out in front of the fire with whatever you want playing on the tv,” he says softly, his hand reaching out to caress the side of her face and wipe a stray tear with his thumb.

She offers him a watery smile and a sniffle as he speeds away from Linkon City. She finishes her food and curls against the window, watching as the lights streak past. It’s in record time that they’re pulling into the familiar surroundings of the base, and for some reason just the sight of it settles something inside of her.

Sylus is at the side of the car in an instant, opening the door, and holding a hand out for her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and get you some dry clothes.”

He leads her straight to his room, clothes are already laid out on the bed next to fresh towels.

“You didn’t really make Luke and Kieran fetch all this did you?” She asks with a small chuckle, fingers trailing over the soft change of clothes and fluffy towel.

“They offered when I explained it sounded like you might need an escape,” he stated with a shrug. She felt the familiar sting of tears, and swallowed hard to keep them at bay. When was the last time she had felt this seen and taken care of?

“Thank them for me?”

“I gave them the night off, but I will send them a quick message to relay your gratitude. Take however long you need, I’ll get the fire started so you can warm up,” his tone is gentle as he tells her his plan. Then with a gentle kiss on the top of her head, he leaves the room, true to his word about letting her have whatever time she needs.

She emerges from his room roughly a half hour later, feeling a lot more human and a lot more settled than she had been all day. Smiling softly to herself she finds him lounging on the sofa, the fire roaring as he reads through some folder of information. He’s quick to put it down when he hears the soft click of his door shutting. He shuffles closer to the arm rest, leaving plenty of space for you to curl up next to him. He throws his arm around your shoulder as you settle and drags you into his space until you’re practically laying on him.

“Feeling better sweetie?”

“I am. I don’t know how you always seem to know what I need, but I can’t thank you enough,” she tells him, nuzzling into his chest, enjoying the way his fingers toy with the damp ends of her hair. He seems to hum as her words settle over him.

“I am here to help, all you have to do is ask.”

“I’m learning that. Thank you for being my safe place today,” she mutters, flashing him a soft grin before leaning up to place the gentlest kiss on his lips. The grin she gets in return is downright boyish, and she finds her own smile widening in response. Who knew the widely feared leader of Onychinus would be such a softie. Er, well, her softie. Also who knew she would let who a few months ago was her enemy see her at her most vulnerable; and let him comfort her until the weight of the world was more bearable?

“You have me forever, if you want it.”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage Problems FINAL Chapter 6

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon.  Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling.  Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives.  Can they get their spark back?  Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings:  language, forced kiss, eventual smut

Previous chapter

A week later they were in Paris.  Y/N was having the time of her life getting to see all the sights she had always wanted to see, and Bucky couldn’t stop smiling the entire time seeing her so happy and carefree.  They still had a week left, where they would be traveling down to Cannes for the beach, so on their last night in Paris he got the terrace of their hotel room set up with room service dinner while she was in the shower after a long day of sightseeing.  He thanked the staff for helping him and shooed them out of the room before Y/N came out of the bathroom in a robe, toweling off her hair.

“What are you up to now, Bubbas?” Y/N smirked, looking at him suspiciously as he stood by the terrace door.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.  “Nothing, cherie, just setting up your next surprise.”

Y/N walked forward and looked around him to see the dinner set up, her face brightening.  “What is all this?” she asked excitedly.

“Dinner with a view of the Eiffel tower,” he replied, leading her out to the terrace and holding her chair out for her.  

“Buck, I’m in a robe,” she said quietly with wide eyes.

“And?” he asked teasingly.

She rolled her eyes and tightened the robe around herself, sitting down in the chair he pulled out.  Bucky sat across from her and served her the food from the platter set out for them.  They had a great dinner together on the terrace, watching the sun set and the lights of the Eiffel Tower come on as they ate good food and talked.  

Bucky was looking off toward the Tower before glancing back at Y/N.  She was looking at it as well, sitting back in the chair with a small smile on her face, the Parisian night breeze making her mostly dry hair sway.  Her robe was slightly open on her chest as she relaxed, revealing just a bit more cleavage.  

“Beautiful,” Bucky breathed.

“It is,” Y/N replied, her smile widening.  She looked at him to find him already staring at her, and blushed when she understood.  “Oh,” she giggled.  “Thank you.”

He smirked and stood from his chair, stepping toward her and kneeling down by her legs.  He took her left hand in his, admiring her wedding ring before pulling it up to his lips and kissing it before looking back up at her.  “Twenty years,” he said.

“Twenty years,” Y/N repeated.  

“And forever after that,” Bucky said quietly.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his second big surprise present.  “I promised you forever with this ring,” he said, his thumb brushing over her ring.  “But maybe after twenty years it’s time for an upgrade?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed suspiciously.  “Are you being sneaky again?”

He chuckled and nodded.  “Gotta keep my wife on her toes,” he teased before bringing the ring box up with his other hand.  Y/N’s eyes widened.  “My pretty mama deserves pretty things,” he said, flipping open the box.  While her original engagement ring was a simple white gold band and a small round diamond, which was all he could afford at the time, this one was a thin yellow gold band that led to a larger, emerald cut diamond with two smaller emerald cut diamonds next to it.  Next to that ring was a wedding band, also yellow gold and shaped in a slope to allow for the emerald diamonds to be the centerpiece, but lined with small white diamonds along the band.  

“Bucky,” Y/N gasped, her free hand hesitantly reaching out and lightly holding his hand with the box in it.  “No.  No, it’s too much.”

“It’s still not enough for you, love,” Bucky said, pulling the two rings out and sliding her original ring off her finger.  “But it’s as close as I could get to what you truly deserve.”  He slid the band then the engagement ring onto her finger, setting her original ring in the box and on the table before clasping both of her hands in his.  “I know I’m not always the perfect partner to you–”

“Bucky,” she said, starting to cry.

“Ssh,” he shushed her, sitting up on his knees further so he could lean forward til his forehead was pressed against hers.  “I’m not always the best, but I try.  And we’ve had some bumps in the road, but here we are, twenty years in.  And I’m going to be right here for the next twenty years, and then the twenty after that, and twenty after that.  I’m in it for the long haul, pretty mama.  I’m sorry we lost that for a little while.”  He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose, making her sputter a laugh.  “This ring is my commitment to you, to our kids, our home, our life together, and whatever shape it takes as our time together goes on.  I love you, Y/N,” he nuzzled her nose, his hands squeezing hers.  “I always have.  And I always will.”

Y/N was fully crying now, her tears streaming down her face as she looked at him adoringly.  “You and me against the world,” she promised.

Bucky smiled widely.  “You and me against the world,” he promised.

She sniffled, squeezing his hands back.  “God, I love you, Bubbas,” she sighed, then leaned forward and kissed him.

Bucky kissed her back passionately.  She angled her head to deepen the kiss, her hands letting go of his hands and cupping his face.  He felt like his heart was thumping wildly, his head feeling dizzy.  He was so incredibly grateful that they were able to get past the rough patch in their marriage, even though he knew it was going to take more time and work than just a vacation.  Y/N pushed forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly as she opened her mouth, licking at his lower lip.  He quickly opened his mouth to her, letting her explore him first before he took his turn.  

His hands landed on her hips, squeezing them before moving up her torso to her chest.  He slightly pulled her robe apart just enough to slip a hand in and cup her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb.  Y/N moaned and he moved his kisses down from her mouth to her neck then tucking his face into her robe and holding her breast up higher to suck on her nipple.  

“Buck,” she groaned.  “We’re outside.  People will see.”

“Let ‘em,” he said, kissing his way to her other breast.  

Y/N shivered then pulled her robe tighter.  “Inside,” she said firmly, pushing him away and standing.  She took his hand as he stood and brought him inside, closing the terrace door behind them before leading him to the bed.  She pulled his shirt off then unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down, Bucky helping her by kicking them off.  She pushed him backwards onto the bed and he fell with a “umph,” then quickly pulled himself up the bed as she untied her robe and let it slip off of her.

“Fucking hell, pretty mama,” Bucky said as she started crawling up the bed toward him.  “You’re so beautiful.”

Y/N smirked at him as she stopped when she reached his thighs.  She glanced at his cock and her smirk widened at how hard he already was.  She reached her left hand up and gripped him firmly, her new ring glinting in the lamp light.  “So are you,” she said, then leaned down and kissed the tip of his cock.

Just that alone had him shivering.  “Holy shit,” he groaned when she licked from the base to the tip, then swirled her tongue around the head slowly.  “I need to get you jewelry more often.”  Y/N huffed a laugh and skimmed her teeth over the head.  She suddenly took him in her mouth as far as she could, and he gasped at how she relaxed her throat to take him farther back.  “FUCK!  Oh my god!” he whimpered.

Y/N started bobbing her head up and down on him, hallowing her cheeks and sucking him off languidly.  She took her time as her tongue would slide along the shaft as she bobbed her head, sucking the tip and licking the slit in the tip before doing it all over again.  Her left hand kept his cock steady, stroking him wherever she couldn’t reach with her mouth.  She popped off with a slurping sound and then spit on it, her left hand using the saliva to jerk him off more easily before going back to sucking him again.

“Y/N…wait…pretty mama,” Bucky begged, his hands fisting the blanket beneath him.  “I don’t wanna cum like this, please.  I need to be inside you.”

Y/N merely looked up at him with a teasing smirk, watching him as she sucked the tip slowly, her tongue swirling around it over and over again like her favorite lollipop.  Bucky’s hips trembled as he watched her.

“Please,” he begged at a particularly hard suck.  “Please love!  I can’t…”

Y/N’s movements sped up, her left hand stroking him harder and faster as she sucked and licked the tip quickly.  Right as his balls tightened, threatening to finish in her mouth, she popped off of him and let go of his cock, letting it slap against his stomach.  Bucky gasped again, looking at her in shock.  “How do you wanna cum, Bubbas?” she asked sweetly, like she hadn’t just been sucking the life out of him.

Bucky grunted as he heaved himself up and tackled her to the bed. Y/N laughed as he man-handled her to lay on her stomach, his knee pushing her legs apart as his hands pulled her hips up so she was on her knees, her face down in the sheets.  “Just like this,” he murmured, kissing up her spine and between her shoulder blades.  He gripped his cock in hand and rubbed the tip through her pussy, feeling how wet she was for him already.  “Always so ready for me,” he mumbled.  “My pretty mama with her pretty pussy.”

Y/N’s hips wiggled against him.  “Bubbas please don’t tease me,” she begged quietly.  

Bucky chuckled, playfully nipping at her shoulder.  “Alright, love,” he said, before aiming himself and slowly thrusting into her.  Y/N’s breathing stuttered as he pushed in inch by inch until his hips were flush with hers.  He let her adjust for a moment, his hands moving to hers plastered to the bed on either side of her head.  His left hand intertwined with her left hand, his right hand gripping her right wrist.  He rolled his hips, pulling a deep moan from her.  “That’s it, mama, let me hear you.  I don’t get to really hear you at home.”  He snapped his hips and she whimpered, her head thrashing against the bed.  “You make the sweetest noises.”

He picked up the pace of his thrusts, and her left hand curled in on his fingers.  She started meeting his thrusts as she rolled her hips back into him, and his eyes rolled back.  Bucky felt so close already after she gave him head, and her being so enthusiastic was making it hard for him not to immediately cum.  She was moaning, whimpering, gasping and dirty talking back to him.  “Fuck me, Bucky.  Fuck me hard,” she grunted. 

“Yeah?” he panted, automatically snapping his hips harder and faster into her.  “You got it, pretty mama.”  He set a punishing, relentless pace, and she shivered underneath him as the pain mixed with the pleasure.  Her pussy was fluttering around him in warning of her impending orgasm.  “Let me feel you, Y/N.  Let me feel that perfect pussy cum all over me while I pump you full of me.  Fuck, I love you.”  He laid his whole front across her back, his beard chuffing the crook where her shoulder and neck met.

“I…ungh, I love you!” she cried out, her fingers squeezing his tighter, their wedding rings slightly grinding against each other.  

Bucky let go of her right hand and slipped it under her, flicking and rubbing at her clit.  Y/N’s hips bucked against him and she came, crying out his name as she squeezed his fingers painfully tight.  He came almost at the same time with her as her pussy squeezed his cock, pulling out all he had to give.  Bucky moaned loudly into her hair, filling her up as his hips rutted her down flat onto the mattress.  The last of his strength gave out on him and he sank down on her, his hand letting up off her clit so he could try to catch himself before squashing her.  

“Goddamn,” he groaned, his cock still leaking into her.  “So good, pretty mama.”

Y/N sighed heavily, her fingers releasing his fingers from her iron grip.  “Happy Anniversary Buck,” she said, her voice muffled by the bed.

Bucky laughed, pulling himself up and then out of her before making her turn over to look at him.  Her eyelids were heavy, trying to look up at him in her fucked out bliss.  He smiled widely at her.  “Happy Anniversary, Y/N,” he said, then leaned down and kissed her deeply.  

She kissed him back as best as she could, humming as he cuddled her close to his side, grabbing her left hand and kissing her ring.  “Thank you, Bubbas,” she breathed.  “For everything.”

“You and me against the world,” he replied, kissing each of her fingers.  “You and me.”

***

“Everyone ready?” Bucky called out as he got his lunch ready.

“Yes!”  three voices called back as the kids all stood by the front door.

“Good,” Y/N said as she came down the stairs.  “You all have a good day,” she smiled at them, giving them hugs and kisses.  “I love you.  Say goodbye to your sperm donor.”

“My spawn!” Bucky said dramatically, running to the front door and hugging all three of them in a big group hug.

“Ugh, Dad,” Becca groaned, while James giggled and Winnie rolled her eyes.

“Accept my love,” Bucky said.  “Have a good day.”

“Bye!” they all said as they hurried out the front door for the bus.

Y/N and Bucky waved to them before closing the door.  The second it was closed Bucky cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her deeply.  Y/N made a sound of surprise, her lips smiling against his lips as her hands gripped his wrists.  He backed her up against the front door, kissing her over and over again until his watch beeped.

Bucky groaned unhappily but Y/N pushed him away.  “You gotta go,” she said teasingly.  

“Just one more,” Bucky said, kissing her again.  Y/N giggled, kissing him back for just another moment before pulling away.  Bucky pouted, making her laugh.

“You gotta go to work!” Y/N said with a wide smile.  

“I’ll miss you,” Bucky said sadly.

“I’ll miss you,” she replied.  “Now go.”

Bucky swept his thumbs across her cheeks before stealing one last kiss.  “Good luck on your first day back at work,” he said as he pulled away and walked back to the kitchen.

“Thanks!” she said, walking toward the office.  “I love you!”

“I love you!” he called back as he got his things together.  Right before he left he walked to the office, looking in to see her.  Y/N was logged in, responding to emails and her work chat going off already.  He smiled as he crept in, sneaking up behind her until he could reach his hand around and grip her jaw, making her look up at him.  She smirked as he leaned down and kissed her one more time before squeezing her throat gently.  He smiled at her then let her go and walked out to his car.  

Bucky was extremely grateful for all they had been able to overcome.  Y/N was going back into the workforce since the kids didn’t constantly need her anymore, and he could already tell that she was in her element again, being able to be a part of something more than being a wife and mother.  They had been talking a lot more, and their sex life was better than it had been in a while.  Their 20th anniversary vacation had been like a reset for them, and Y/N seemed happier and lighter.  He couldn’t stop the wide smile on his face as he drove to work.  Just the two of them against the world.  

@cjand10 @sebastians-love @sherwoodforesttales @shanksstrawhat @sagexsenorita @abaker74 @vunblr @doodle-with-rhy

Thank you my darlings for the likes, comments, reblogs and follows. I'm so happy y'all liked this one. I hope you'll stay around and read more of my stuff. I'm still working on some asks and sequels to asks, so please be patient with me. Love you!

[bluebvrry]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PROMISE ⋆

Synopsis -> all those waiting for 5 years in vain. Hearing her name doesn’t make you go all fluterry and flustered anymore, instead it makes you growl in hatred

Pairing -> non-idol!giselle x non-idol!f!reader

Genre -> angst, lovers to strangers (?)

Warnings -> angst,3.6k WC, Karina is being mentioned, yelling, Karina is just a sweet caring boss, hurt hurt hurt, lmk if I missed anything that wasn’t mentioned

A/N -> boomshakala another angst 🤓 wanted to post this story before I start the first chapter of the series, ALSOOOOO if you want a continuation please lmk or if you have continuation ideas lmk🥹, was lit listening to “slow dancing in the dark” by Joji and it would lowk go well with this imagine buh I got that planned for another one 😌😉

You stared blankly at the small, velvet box on your dresser, the engagement ring Aeri had given you before she left gleaming in the dim light of your room. It had been months since she'd departed, leaving you with a promise to return and a heart full of longing.

You remembered the day she left like it was yesterday. You had stood in the airport, clinging to each other as tears streamed down your faces. Aeri had whispered promises in your ear, vows to return to you as soon as she could. And you had sworn to wait for her, to never leave her side once she came back.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that had settled in your chest. You had tried to stay busy, to distract yourself from the ache of Aeri's absence, but nothing seemed to fill the void.

You opened the box, running your thumb over the intricate design of the ring. It was a symbol of Aeri's love for you, a promise of the future you were meant to share. But as you gazed at the ring, you couldn't help but wonder if that future was still within reach.

The years had dragged on, each one a painful reminder of Aeri's absence. Your friends had tried to intervene, setting you up on blind dates and attempting to coax you back into the world of the living. But you had refused to budge, your heart still stubbornly holding onto the hope that Aeri would one day return to you.

Your parents had grown tired of your moping, their patience wearing thin as the months turned into years. They had urged you to move on, to find someone new and leave the past behind. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. The thought of loving someone else, of replacing Aeri in your heart, was unthinkable.

So, in a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of your hometown's expectations, you had made the decision to leave. You packed up your belongings and moved to a new city, one where no one knew your name or your story. It was a fresh start, a chance to begin anew and leave the pain of your past behind.

But as you stood in your new apartment, surrounded by unfamiliar walls and the echoes of silence, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were still waiting. Waiting for Aeri, waiting for the day when she would finally return to you. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you wondered if you would ever be able to move on.

As you settled into your new life, you were determined to start fresh and leave your past heartaches behind. Getting a job was the first step, and you were thrilled to land a position as a secretary for the CEO of a large and prestigious company. Your new boss, Ms. Yu, was everything you had hoped for and more. She was kind, compassionate, and genuinely cared about the well-being of her employees.

From the moment you started working for Ms. Yu, you were struck by her warm and approachable demeanor. She took a genuine interest in getting to know you, asking about your background and your goals. She made sure you felt welcome and supported, and you found yourself looking forward to coming to work each day.

As you worked alongside Ms. Yu, you began to notice the way she interacted with the other employees. She was always available to listen, offering words of encouragement and guidance whenever needed. She fostered a sense of community and camaraderie within the office, making everyone feel valued and appreciated.

Despite the demands of her high-powered position, Ms. Yu remained humble and kind, never once making you feel intimidated or afraid to approach her. You found yourself feeling grateful to work for someone like her, and you couldn't help but wonder what her story was. What had shaped her into the compassionate and empathetic leader she was today?

You nodded attentively as Ms. Yu briefed you on the meeting, taking mental notes of the details. You had worked with her on numerous occasions, but this meeting seemed particularly significant. The fact that she needed you by her side suggested that the stakes were high, and you were determined to provide her with the support she needed.

As you arrived at the five-star restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The opulent decor and impeccable service were a testament to the establishment's luxurious reputation. You smoothed out your dress, making sure you looked professional and composed, before following Ms. Yu to the private dining room where the meeting was to take place.

You stood beside Ms. Yu, sipping your glass of water as you waited for the important client to arrive. The private dining room was elegantly decorated, with soft music playing in the background. You checked your watch for what felt like the hundredth time, wondering when the client would show up.

Just as you were starting to get impatient, the door swung open and a figure stepped inside. Your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with the person, a face you never thought you'd see again. Your mind went blank, and you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

The person's eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You could feel the air thickening with tension, and your heart racing with anticipation. And then, your gaze drifted to the person standing beside them, and your world came crashing down...

You felt like you'd been hit by a ton of bricks. Mrs. Uchinaga? Married? The words echoed in your mind, refusing to sink in. You couldn't believe that the Aeri you once knew, the Aeri you had given your heart to, was now standing in front of you, married to someone else.

You tried to maintain a professional demeanor, but it was a struggle. Your eyes kept drifting back to Aeri, taking in the subtle changes in her appearance. She looked older, wiser, and yet, her eyes still sparkled with the same mischievous glint you remembered.

The woman beside her, her wife, seemed kind and gentle, with a warm smile that put you at ease. But you couldn't help feeling a pang of jealousy, of resentment, towards this stranger who had taken Aeri's heart.

As Ms. Yu began to discuss the details of the meeting, you found yourself zoning out, your mind consumed by thoughts of Aeri and what could have been. You felt like you were stuck in a nightmare, unable to wake up from the pain and heartache that threatened to overwhelm you.

As the meeting drew to a close, you couldn't help but feel like you were in a daze. You had barely spoken a word, content to let Ms. Yu handle the negotiations while you struggled to process your emotions. Aeri's presence had thrown you off balance, and you couldn't understand why you were still feeling this way after all these years.

You caught Aeri's eye once, and for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of recognition, of understanding. It was as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, exactly how you were feeling. And then, just as quickly, the moment was gone, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it altogether.

But you didn't imagine the look of guilt and regret that crossed Aeri's face. It was a fleeting expression, one that she quickly masked with a neutral smile. But you saw it, and it left you feeling even more confused and unsettled. What did it mean? Was Aeri regretting her decision to leave you all those years ago? And if so, why was she here now, married to someone else?

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as Ms. Yu's hand rested on yours. It was a gentle, comforting gesture, but it caught you off guard. You nodded hastily, trying to play it cool, and assured her that everything was fine.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Ms. Yu asked, her voice low and concerned. She leaned in closer, her eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress.

You nodded again, trying to reassure her. "Yeah, everything's fine, Ms. Yu. Just a bit...distracted, that's all."

Ms. Yu's expression softened, and she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "If anything's bugging you, I'm right here, okay? You can always talk to me."

You smiled weakly, feeling a bit flustered by her concern. "Thanks, Ms. Yu. I appreciate it."

Ms. Yu's hand lingered on yours for a moment before she turned her attention back to Aeri and her wife. You took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself, but your mind was still reeling from the shock of seeing Aeri again.

As the meeting drew to a close, Aeri's wife stood up, smiling politely. "It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Yu. And...Y/N," she added, her eyes flicking to you with a hint of curiosity.

Aeri stood up as well, her eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, and you quickly looked away, trying to break the spell.

Ms. Yu smiled warmly, standing up to shake hands with Aeri's wife. "The pleasure was mine. I'll have my assistant send over the contract details by the end of the day."

As the two women exchanged pleasantries, you couldn't help but steal glances at Aeri. She seemed...different, somehow. More poised, more confident. But there was still something in her eyes, something that hinted at a deeper emotion.

You felt a pang of curiosity, wondering what had brought Aeri to this point. What had she been doing all these years? And what was the story behind her marriage to this woman?

As the meeting drew to a close, Aeri's eyes locked onto yours, and she spoke up, her voice low and husky. "Y/N, I'd like to talk to you privately."

The word "privately" was emphasized, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Ms. Yu looked at you hesitantly, seeming to weigh her options. After a moment, she nodded. "Alright, I'll wait for you in the car. Take your time."

You nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. What did Aeri want to talk to you about? You stood up, smoothing out your dress, and followed Aeri out of the private dining room.

She led you to a more secluded area outside of the restaurant, a small garden surrounded by tall trees and vibrant flowers. The sound of gentle chirping and soft rustling of leaves filled the air, creating a sense of tranquility.

Aeri stopped in front of a small fountain, her back to you. You could see the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her posture. You felt a pang of curiosity, wondering what was going through her mind.

"Aeri?" you said softly, breaking the silence.

She turned around, her eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you just stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

"I'm sorry," Aeri said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry for what happened between us."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at her. You had waited so long to hear those words, to hear her acknowledge the pain she had caused you.

"Why did you leave?" you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

Aeri took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving yours. "I was scared, Y/N. I was scared of my feelings, of what they meant. I didn't know how to process them, how to deal with them. So I ran."

You felt a pang of sadness, of regret. You had loved her so much, and she had thrown it all away.

"Why are you married?" you asked, the question tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Aeri's eyes dropped, and she took a deep breath before answering. "I thought it was what I wanted, what I needed. But the truth is, Y/N, I've never stopped loving you. I've never stopped thinking about you."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. Aeri still loved you? But what about her wife? What about the life she had built without you?

You felt a surge of anger and hurt as you confronted Aeri. "So all those years of waiting were for nothing?" you asked, your voice rising in indignation. "Five years of my life, wasted on waiting for you, and it was all for nothing?"

Aeri tried to interrupt, but you cut her off, your emotions pouring out of you like a dam breaking. "Y/N, please—"

"No, Aeri, you listen to me!" you exclaimed, your voice growing louder. "Do you have any idea how long you've made me wait? Thinking that you'd come back to me, that you'd make good on your promises? My friends tried to set me up on blind dates, but I refused, because I was holding out for you. My parents scolded me for moping around the house, telling me to move on, but I said no, I'm waiting for Aeri. And all this time, you were out here living your life with someone else?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you thought about all the years you'd wasted, all the opportunities you'd missed, all because of Aeri's broken promises. "I moved out of my hometown because the stares of pity were too much to bear," you continued, your voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't take the constant reminders of what I'd lost, of what you'd taken from me. And now, you're standing here, telling me that you still love me? After all these years? After everything you've put me through?"

Aeri's face went pale, and she took a step back, as if she'd been physically struck. She knew she was wrong, that she'd hurt you deeply, and that there was no excuse for her behavior. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She just stood there, frozen in silence, as you poured out your heart to her.

The sound of your own voice, loud and angry, was like a slap in the face, shocking you out of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but your heart was still racing, your mind still reeling with the implications of Aeri's words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aeri spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I...I don't know what to say. I was wrong to leave you like that, to make you wait for so long. I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused you."

You looked at her, searching for answers, but all you saw was regret and sorrow etched on her face. You didn't know what to say, either. A part of you wanted to forgive her, to take her back, but another part of you was screaming to run away, to leave her and her broken promises behind.

You stood there, your face buried in your palms, as the weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You had forgiven Aeri, but the pain and hurt she had caused you still lingered, a constant reminder of what could never be forgotten.

"I've forgiven you," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "But it's not something I can forget that easily."

Aeri took a step closer, her eyes filled with a deep sadness, but you immediately backed away, your hands still covering your face. You couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, of her trying to comfort you. It was too much, too soon.

You slowly lowered your hands, your eyes locking onto Aeri's face. You stared at her, your expression almost expressionless, as if you were trying to mask the turmoil that was brewing inside you.

"I need to go," you said finally, your voice firm but quiet.

Aeri nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Okay," she said softly. "I understand."

You turned and walked away, leaving Aeri standing alone in the garden. You could feel her eyes on you, watching you, but you didn't look back. You couldn't.

As you walked towards the parking lot, you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You had thought that confronting Aeri would bring you closure, but now you realized that it had only opened up old wounds.

You spotted Ms. Yu's car in the distance and quickened your pace, eager to escape the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. As you reached the car, Ms. Yu looked up at you with concern etched on her face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" she asked softly.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, I'm fine," you lied.

Ms. Yu looked at you skeptically, but she didn't push the issue. Instead, she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving Aeri and the past behind.

As you sat in the car, staring out the window, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would you be able to move on from Aeri, or would the memories of what could have been continue to haunt you? Only time would tell.

As you sat in the car, your mind began to wander, replaying the previous encounter with Aeri over and over again. You were oblivious to Ms. Yu's concerned gaze, too caught up in your own thoughts to notice her watching you.

The car ride seemed to pass in a blur, with you zoning out and losing all sense of time. You didn't even notice when the car pulled up to your front door, it wasn't until Ms. Yu spoke up that you snapped back to reality.

"We're here," she said softly, her voice gentle.

You looked up, feeling a bit disoriented, and saw that you were indeed parked outside your apartment building. You thanked Ms. Yu, feeling a bit embarrassed for zoning out on her, and stepped out of the car.

As you walked into your apartment, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. You were finally alone, free to process your thoughts and emotions without anyone watching. You freshened up, washing your face and changing into something comfortable, before collapsing onto your bed.

You plugged in your headphones and put on some music, letting the familiar melodies wash over you. You stared up at the ceiling, feeling a sense of numbness wash over you.

As the music played on, you found yourself getting lost in thought. You couldn't stop thinking about Aeri, about the way she had looked at you, about the things she had said. You couldn't help but wonder what could have been, what would have happened if she had stayed.

The music seemed to fade into the background as your thoughts consumed you. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to escape the tidal wave of feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.

As the hours passed, you remained frozen in place, lost in your own thoughts and emotions. The music played on, a constant companion in your solitude, but you barely even noticed it. You were too caught up in your own world, too lost in the memories of what could have been.

As the hours passed, you slowly began to feel the weight of your emotions lifting. The music had changed, shifting from a melancholy tune to a softer, more calming melody. You felt your eyelids growing heavy, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, the room was dark, the only light coming from the moon outside your window. You rubbed your eyes, feeling a sense of grogginess wash over you. As you sat up, you realized that the music had stopped, and the room was quiet.

You looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment. It was a reminder that life went on, that even though Aeri was back in your life, you had moved on. You had built a new life, one that didn't revolve around her.

As you swung your legs over the side of the bed, you felt a sense of determination wash over you. You knew that you couldn't change the past, but you could control the future. You could choose to move on, to leave the memories of Aeri behind.

You stood up, feeling a sense of resolve wash over you. You walked over to the window, looking out at the city below. The lights twinkled like stars, a reminder of the possibilities that lay ahead.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. You knew that you would always carry a piece of Aeri with you, but you also knew that you were ready to move on.

As you turned away from the window, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. You knew that you would be okay, that you would find happiness again. And with that thought, you smiled, knowing that you were ready to start a new chapter in your life.

[ambers-archive]

About you

Chasing cars pt 1

Spencer goes into work the next day, trying not to idealize you too much.

What did you look like? How long had you been writing?

He had spent most of the night before going through your blog, like a treasure he had found after being lost at sea for so long.

You mainly talked about your day, with some snippets about family, but it was your writing that drew him in.

You often wrote about interpersonal relationships, the identities you cultivated around people. You talked about being single in your 20s, and suddenly, Spencer felt so out of reach.

You were only in your 20s? He felt so much older.

Like life was passing him by, he thought. And through your words, he could embrace it.

Slowly, his reverie is broken, his mind forced onto the case in front of him.

The case goes by, like any other. He keeps himself detached, mainly due to Emily’s death. The work they do often feels like pouring into an empty cup.

What’s the point if they can’t save the ones they love the most?

“Earth to Reid.”

Morgan’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and Spencer blinks, realizing the entire team is staring at him.

“You good?” JJ asks, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies almost instantly.

On the way to the jet, he walks through the halls and can almost see Emily, almost hear her laughter.

Being a man of science, he doesn’t believe in God. But if there were one, he wonders—how much more suffering can he take?

He takes the furthest seat on the jet, closing his eyes and remembering your words:

"The start of my twenties were wasted, wondering when love would find me. Now all I want to do is embrace all that I have. I might not have a lover, but I have friends who will wipe my tears for me. I have a sister who will take my hand in hers, holding my heart so dearly. And despite everything, I find myself eternally thankful for the love that’s never left."

That was the last passage Spencer read from your blog.

Your words itch at the deepest part of his brain, and despite being an abstract concept, he will gladly make a mural of them.

He wants to remember them forever.

He spends a few days on the sidelines before he finally reaches out to you.

With shaky hands, he types your Outlook email into the recipient field.

What should he say?

Pushing the thought aside, he types:

"Hi there, I hope this finds you well. I stumbled across your writings, and now your blog. I wanted to let you know you’re an amazing writer. I’ve read a lot of my own thoughts being brought to life by your words."

He pauses. It feels too formal, too clinical. He hesitates, then adds:

"I know we don’t know each other, but I wanted to reach out because your writing resonated with me. Thank you for sharing your thoughts."

He stares at the screen, fingers hovering over the send button.

Then, in one swift motion, before he can second-guess himself—he clicks.

And immediately regrets it.

Spencer leans back, heart pounding.

What if you don’t respond? What if you do? What if you think he’s strange for reaching out?

He groans, pressing his hands to his face. He shouldn’t have sent it. He should have just left it alone.

But then, an hour later, just as he’s about to force himself to sleep—

His phone vibrates.

A new email.

His breath catches as he opens it.

[loulou-land]

I’ll Give You the Stars (These Pieces of Me)

Day 6 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Stargazing | 1,639 words | on ao3

(cw: some sadness before the fluff, implied domestic abuse and implied death of a parent, I don’t go into details)

Tommy had always looked to the stars—sometimes as an escape, letting himself get lost in the vast darkness just holding on to those tiny specks of light. Other times, they were a comfort, a reminder of how small his problems were in the grand scheme of things. Whatever the reason, they had been a reassuring presence in Tommy’s life for as long as he could remember. 

As a kid, when the voices inside the house grew too loud—his father’s yelling sharp and cutting, his mother’s pleas breaking beneath it—Tommy always climbed out his bedroom window and onto the roof, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he stared at the night sky. 

The stars never yelled at him. They never told him he wasn’t good enough. They were just there, steady and silent, stretching infinitely across the sky.

The first time his mother found him there, Tommy was afraid she’d drag him down or worse—tell his father. But she just sat beside him, pulling her own sweater tightly around her and tilted her head toward the stars. 

“Do you see those stars over there? The ones in the shape of a W?” she asked, pointing to a constellation of stars above. 

“Yeah,” Tommy said, squinting critically at the tiny specks. 

“Well, that’s Cassiopeia. She was a queen,” his mother's voice turned conspiratorial, “but the stories say she was immensely vain, and so the gods punished her by making her hang upside down forever.”  

Tommy had wrinkled his nose. “That’s dumb.” 

His mother had laughed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Because it looks like a crown,” he said, tracing the shape in the air with his finger. “So, not a punishment. Just a reminder that she was a queen—that she was important.” 

His mother had hummed, thoughtful. Then she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, whispering, “You’re right. Sometimes there’s more to a story than meets the eye.” 

After that, it became a routine. Something they did every now and then. They’d look at the stars and his mother would tell him all the stories behind them. And even after she was gone, Tommy kept climbing onto the roof, whispering the names of the constellations. Some nights, if he closed his eyes, he could almost hear her voice beside him, telling him his favorite stories—like she’d never left at all. 

As he got older, the stars became something else. 

In the military they hadn’t just been a comfort—they were also a tool. Out in the field, surrounded by uncertainty, Tommy learned to navigate by them. The night sky told him where he was, where to go. And in that unfamiliar, lonely place they became a sort of anchor. Unchanging. Untouchable. The one thing he could rely on when everything else felt unsteady. 

When he was working under Captain Gerrard though, the stars took on a different meaning. 

By then, Tommy had begun to understand something about himself—something he couldn’t afford to say out loud. It wasn’t just fear of what that truth meant. It was fear of what would happen if someone like Gerrard found out. 

The 118, under his command, had been suffocating. A place where silence was survival. Tommy learned to laugh at the right jokes, look the other way when he had to, keep his head down and his walls up. 

But at night, after the station had quieted down, when he was alone and staring up at the sky—he could admit it. 

Not in words. Never that. But in the way his chest loosened, the way the tension drained from his shoulders, the way he let himself breathe. There, the stars were the only witness to his truth. 

And Tommy had always kept them to himself. Until now. 

The woods hummed around them, the occasional breeze rustling through the trees. The steady chirp of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl filled the night air. 

Tommy lay on a blanket beneath the endless sky, the cool air a welcome relief after the sweltering heat of the day. Beside him, Evan shifted, his shoulder brushing against him. The touch was warm, sending a pleasant spark of heat through his body. He let himself sink into it. 

They had taken a couple of days away from the city, away from the noise—just the two of them. The day had been spent hiking, Evan excitedly pointing out trees and birds, rattling of whatever random fact crossed his mind. Tommy had listened, throwing in his own knowledge here and there, his amusement barely hidden behind dry quips.

Later, they swam in the lake, splashing water at each other, laughing freely in the quiet of nature. At one point, Evan had wrapped himself around Tommy’s back, nibbling at his ear, pressing playful kisses to his neck. Tommy had promptly turned around and kissed him stupid, wet and grinning, until they were both cold and pruny. 

Afterward they had stretched out in the sun, letting the heat warm them again before finally making their way to the clearing where they’d set up camp. Tommy had taken charge of the tent while Evan spread out a blanket, setting up a picnic as the sky deepened into rich shades of orange and gold. 

And after the sun had slipped beyond the horizon, Tommy had found himself looking up at the sky—just like he always did. 

And Evan—without a word—had settled himself beside him and looked up too.

Tommy exhaled, eyes fixed on the sky above them. The stars stretched endlessly, a familiar sight, but tonight felt different. 

“I used to look up at the stars a lot when I was a kid,” he murmured, his voice quiet. “My mom taught me all about them. She always knew so many things.” 

Beside him, Evan stilled, before shifting closer to him. “Can you tell me about her? Evan asked softly. 

Tommy’s breath caught for a moment but then he nodded. 

“She was sweet,” he said, a small wistful smile tugging at his lips. “She had this way of making everything feel like a story—even when things were hard, she could turn anything into something magical. And the way she talked about all these constellations, so vividly. I wanted to fly up and join them.” He chuckled quietly. 

Evan’s expression was soft, his voice gentle. “She sounds amazing.” 

Tommy swallowed, chest tightening. He hadn’t expected this to feel so easy. But maybe that was just Evan—steady, patient, supportive. 

“Yeah…” his throat felt thick, but he pushed through it. “I think she would have loved you.”

Evan inhaled sharply, like the words had knocked the wind out of him. Then, without hesitation, he reached for Tommy’s hand and squeezed. 

They sat like that for a while, quietly looking at the stars. 

After a moment, Evan’s voice broke the silence, light and curious. “Which one’s your favorite?” 

Tommy hummed thoughtfully, pretending to think about it. But he already knew. 

“I always loved the ones about heroes, so Perseus,” he admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Evan grinned, “That makes a lot of sense.” 

Tommy gave him a side-eye glance, smirking. “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Because you’re kind of a hero yourself,” Evan said simply. 

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head. “No, I’m not. That’s ridiculous” 

“I’m serious!” Evan said, turning to look Tommy in the eyes. “You literally flew into a hurricane to save lives. That’s got ‘hero’ written all over it.” 

“I was just doing my job,” Tommy countered, rolling his eyes. “And, you were there too. Besides, you’re more of a hero than I am.” 

Evan shook his head. “Okay, so we’re both heroes then. You just happen to be more badass than me.” he finished cheekily. 

Tommy groaned, but he couldn’t fight the warmth creeping up his neck. 

Evan, grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing, leaned up and pressed a kiss to Tommy’s chin, right in the cleft. 

Tommy huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around Evan and pulling him closer.  

“Tell me more,” Evan murmured against his neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down Tommy’s spine. 

 And so, Tommy did. 

First, about the constellations—heroes and quests, about the stories his mother had told him. Then, he talked about himself. About his childhood. About the military. About how he felt working under Gerrard. 

He wasn’t sure how long they lay there, tangled up in each other, Evan pressed against him, warm and steady. Eventually, the words ran out and silence settled between them. 

Evan moved slightly, resting his chin on Tommy’s chest. His eyes, illuminated by the faint glow of the stars, were soft and shining. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For sharing the stars with me.” 

He was looking at Tommy like he had given him something precious. Like Tommy was something important. Something worth knowing. 

Tommy exhaled, his throat tight, his heart full.

Of course, Evan knew. 

What this meant for Tommy. How much it had taken to share this part of himself—to use the stars as a way to talk about things he never said to anyone else before. 

Tommy lifted a hand, cupping Evan’s face gently before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. 

He poured everything into it. All the gratitude, all the love he had for this wonderful, caring, impulsive man. 

And he thinks Evan understood. 

They fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t just comfortable. It was full. Full of warmth, of quiet understanding, of love. 

Soon, they’d head inside the tent and fall asleep wrapped around each other. 

But for now, they stayed like this. 

And for the first time, Tommy didn't feel small under the stars. 

The stars weren’t just his anymore. 

They were theirs. 

[saphiccarma]

You don't have to if you're not comfortable! I had a little idea of reader getting too overwhelmed and laying their head down in Agathas lap while she's reading or doing something that's been keeping her busy- and the reader just goes silent while Agatha figures out what's happening since reader is usually never like this before realizing they slipped into little space.

Just a lot of fluff and reassurance, reader mostly doing gestures and hand motions to try and say what they want without crying and getting more overwhelmed- maybe getting tucked into bed with a small stuffed animal and Agatha humming while running her fingers through their hair :)

- I'll take care of you

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Little!Reader

Summary - After a rough day you seek solace in the only person who can give it to you.

Warnings: None really. Little!Reader and Caregiver!Agatha

A/N: this was a nice change of pace from the usual smut. I'm sorry it's short but I'm actually kinda happy with it :) I loveeeeed this request

Your skin felt as if it had been set on fire, a tingling sensation that spread through your whole body. Sniffling slightly, tears brimming your eyes, you shuffled into the living room, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a shield.

Cars outside raged - you hated living on a busy street - and the birds crowed. The wind whipped against the windows harshly, banging the shutters around and knocking trees into the wall so that they clattered loudly. The added sound of rain pounding onto the roof made you feel like it was all too much.

Nearly instantly your eyes locked onto Agatha's form, neatly sitting on the couch. She had her legs propped up on the coffee table, crossed and jeans creasing at the corners. In her hands was a book that she had been reading all day - it wasn't often Agatha had been invested in something for so long that she hardly paid attention to you, but it was happening now.

You’d been vying for her attention all day. Whining at her childishly and stomping your feet to get her attention. If anything, she ignored you more. Or you made your steps loud and dragged your feet when walking past, hoping she would finally give you a time of day. Nothing you did worked, she was too engrossed in her blanket.  

You weren't sure what it was about, and you couldn't care as you dragged your feet over to her. Hands tightening on the blanket, you stare down at her from where you stood, hoping she would look up and notice her. But she was too engrossed in her book. You needed her right now. Your brain was so foggy, overwhelmed by the day, and you just wanted to let go. Let Agatha take care of you and make you feel safe and cozy.

When her eyes stayed trained on her book and not you, you huffed childishly before plopping down on the couch next to her. After a moment you lean over and duck under her arm, placing your head in her lap. She glances at you, just briefly, with a smile on her face and settles a hand atop your head. She brushes some hair away with slender fingers before resuming her reading, still ignoring you. Tears sting the corner of your eyes as you bite your lip.

The simple touch douses you in a wave of cold water, soothing the sting of your skin. The burning buzz disperses, and you feel better now that she’s touching you in a tender way.  

Slipping your hand out of the blanket cocoon you have; you tug on the hand that rests atop your head. Agatha still doesn't move. Frustrated, you bring it around and hold it close to your chest. Then an idea strikes you, and in your quickly fading mature headspace, you lift her fingers to your mouth. You part your lips and suckle on the digits, eyes fluttering at the sensation of comfort it gives you.

It wasn’t something you did often, much like Agatha’s obsession, but you needed that right now. Agatha gives a surprised hum, glancing down at you and her eyes remain for the first time all day. You hear the book softly fall shut as she places it aside and her other hand brushes through your hair.

"Darling?" she asks softly, waiting to see if you'll respond verbally. All she gets in response is a whine and you burrow your head further into her lap, "I see," she sighs, a small smile gracing her lips. She knows now, knows you're little and don't feel like being big.

Usually you were quite verbal, almost always babbling about something with excitement. And she always eagerly listened, but your silence was a key indicator that you were in little headspace.

Her nails scratch against your scalp lightly and your lips curl around her fingers tighter, as if afraid she'll leave. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs, sensing your intentions. The two of you sit there for a moment, her hand running through your hair gently and you sucking on her fingers while you keep a blanket cocoon firmly wrapped around you.

Agatha checks the time, noting how it's still quite early, but she can see the way your eyes are fluttering shut and your lips loosen on her fingers slightly. Gently, so as to not upset you, Agatha removes her fingers from your mouth.

The reaction you have is instant, hands shooting out to pull her back with a low, frustrated, whine. The weight of her fingers settling back on your tongue calms you down once again.  The woman above you chuckles slightly, an amused sigh leaving her.

"I think it's time for bed," she hums, swiping hair away from your face with delicate fingertips, "C'mon."

You shake your head petulantly, quite comfy here, despite how heavy your eyes are. Laying here with her for now sounds nice, it's peaceful and you can pretend the rain isn't pouring outside. A finger gently taps your chin, turning your head to look at her. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but muted amusement shines in her eyes, as does affection.

"Yes." Her words are firm, and you practically melt into her, "You're sleepy and Mommy thinks it's time for bed, hm?" She doesn't give you a chance to argue, instead leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before popping her fingers out of your mouth and slipping out from under you.

Giving her a firm, well as firm as you can when in little headspace, you whine and make grabby hands. Your lips pucker into a pout as your feet kick out. Arms outstretched, you give Agatha wide, pleading eyes, begging her to pick you up. She makes a show of rolling her eyes, but lifts you up by your armpits, situating you on her front like a child. The blanket falls off your shoulders and onto the couch silently.

The minute her hands are supporting your thighs; you wrap your arms around her. Then your face buries in her neck and you sigh. She smells like husky amber and something that is so uniquely Agatha, something you can't place. But regardless, it smells like home - it smells safe. Her strong arms have no problem carrying you to the bedroom.

"Alright, hon, let's get you into some comfy clothes yeah?" Agatha places you on the bed gently, giving a soft smile. Reluctantly, you let go of her, lips pouting once again, as you watch her wander over to the dressers. She picks out a pair of pajamas for you, holding them up for you to see.

Shaking your head, you cross your arms over your chest, not liking the pair she chose. They were scratchy and always too hot, no matter how cold it was. Agatha mutters something unintelligible before putting them back and choosing a different pair. You give her a happy nod of approval and in return you are rewarded with a soft murmur of, "Good girl."

The praise makes your heart warm, and head grow heavy as she tugs on the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms obediently, letting her replace your shirt. Pants come next, Agatha tugging them down your legs and having you step in the new pair.

"There we go," she gives you an appraising look, "All nice and cozy. Now let's get tucked into bed."

She gently guides you to lay down, but not before tugging the blanket out from under you. Agatha moves with practiced ease as she drapes it over your shoulders, tucking in the corners nice and tight, just how you like it. Then your eyes widen when you notice she's forgetting something and your hand shoots out, catching her wrist and giving it a sharp tug. For the briefest of moments Agatha looks confused, then she takes in the tears bubbling once again and it clicks.

Your plushie is snatched from the end of the bed and handed to you. You wrap your arms around it, tucking it close to your chest and giving your caretaker a watery smile. A tender kiss is placed to your forehead, her lips lingering comfortingly as she murmurs a soft, “I love you.”

Then her lips trail down, and she presses a little kiss to your nose, which crinkles a the touch, before blowing a teasing raspberry to your cheek. You giggle a little, your eyes shining with something other than tears, and squirm away.

Agatha chases after you, smothering your face in loving kisses even as you playfully struggle, pretending to push her away, “Aggie!” you laugh softly, the sound quiet but filled with joy, “That tickles.”

“Alright, alright.” A final kiss is placed to your forehead before she’s securing the blankets around you and rounding the bed to the other side.

"Comfy?" she asks, not really expecting you to respond. She slides into the bed, above the covers since they are wrapped so tightly around you, and her hand rests on your head. It only takes a second before she's carding her fingers through your hair gently, nails lightly scraping every now and then.

When it becomes clear you aren't going to sleep from that alone, Agatha starts humming a tune. You aren't sure what it is and your brain is too clouded for you to bother figuring it out. All you know is that her hands feel so nice in your hair, her voice is drifting through the room softly, and you are nice and cozy.

You hardly notice the cars outside the window, or the rain, or the wind, or the worries of the day - focused solely on the peace of the moment. Eyes fluttering shut you sigh in content, scooching to lean against Agatha's leg.

She laughs softly, a momentary pause in her humming, "Rest now," she whispers, "Mommy will be right here when you wake up."

Closing your eyes, you relish in her touch and soft humming, quickly slipping into the realm of sleep.

[pastelpiggielol]

Another Spencer ticfic!

By request I’m posting another criminal minds ticfic! This one is Spencer getting got by most of the team 🤭

This was written in collaboration with my wonderful boyfriend @kt-the-lee !

Word count: 1615

Characters: Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan

The rest of the team smiled fondly and rolled their eyes. It was the end of yet another long, long day, and they were all clearing up their desks for the night. In doing so, Derek had found a baseball in a drawer and juggled it in his hands before throwing it to Spencer. Despite his usual lack of co-ordination and the fact that he held an almost-empty mug of coffee in one hand, Spencer was alert enough to catch the ball in his free hand.

"Yes, pretty boy, we saw." chuckled Morgan. "Are we ever going to hear the end of this."

"Absolutely not!" he grinned, raising both of his arms in the air in triumph. "I don't want to hear a single word about my lack of co-ordination ever again, seeing as I just caught this in ONE HAND"

Spencer continued his gloating, arms still raised, to the point where everyone else in the room was starting to get playfully annoyed. Emily in particular was hoping he'd come to an end soon, but that end did not seem near in the slightest. She sighed in mock-exasperation and moved to walk past him.

"Yeah yeah Spencer, we get it!" groaned Emily as she ambled past him, reaching out to playfully poke at his exposed torso on her way. She had hoped this action may cause him to hold his tongue, and it did. What she did not expect was for Spencer to drop the coffee he was holding, fold in half like a deckchair and let out a small squeal. 

Emily stopped in her tracks, a grin reaching her ears as she stared with both surprise and deviance. Spencer had also stopped dead, eyes widened in fear as the rest of the team chuckled around the pair of them.

"Oh...?" said Emily teasingly, her voice dripping with mischief. "Well, what have I discovered here!"

"Not anything that we didn't already know!" chuckled JJ. "I suppose you're still too new to know about Reid's... sensitivity."

"Oh but JJ, it's so much more fun when you say the word." grinned Morgan. "He can't handle hearing the word tickle in any situation, just look at the poor boy!

Everyone turned to see Spencer flush the same colour as one of Garcia's dresses as Derek emphasised that word. Nobody knew quite why hearing any variation of the word "tickle" out loud made him so embarrassed, even Spencer himself couldn't figure out why. However, it made teasing him all the more effective. Emily's grin became more and more shit-eating by the second, immediately throwing herself into this new game. 

"Damn, I can't believe it's taken me this long to realise that the genius boy-wonder is ticklish" she hummed. 

Spencer pouted and grumbled at Emily's emphasis of the word, immediately collapsing into his seat and covering his increasingly reddening face. He jolted as he felt Emily place her hands on his shoulders, gently but firmly keeping him in his chair with no hope of being able to move.

"Prentiss, I feel you need to be entirely filled in on all of this information." said Morgan. "Want some tips and tricks that we've discovered over the years?"

Spencer let out a small yelp as Emily's palms turned into pressing fingers, finding every little sensitive spot around the top of his neck and shoulders as he attempted to curl in on himself to block her hands. 

"But of course, I want to know every single ticklish spot he has to I can tickle him dead!" She grinned evilly as she continued to pinch, prod and poke his neck and shoulders, laughing to herself at how much he was curling up and attempting to swat her hands away while simultaneously keeping his arms pinned down.

"Aww look at him, he's so red he might explode." Morgan taunted with a grin. "I'll start off with a more.. tame one, let's say." His smile only grew as Spencer's eyes widened in fear, not knowing what Morgan was going to reveal about him. 

"Get him right between the ribs, it always makes him freak!"

Emily smirked with a malicious glint in her eye. "Sir yes sir." 

Perhaps a little too slowly, she wormed her hands lower down Spencer's torso. Unfortunately, she then became close enough that he could grab her hands and pull her away while squealing in terror. Now, they may have been evenly matched in strength, but the angle put her at a disadvantage to where she simply couldn't make contact with him. 

"Ha, gotcha!" He shouted proudly, but was quickly cut off by another squeal as Morgan drove his hands into Reid's midriff, scribbling and pinching all over and sending him into uncontrollable laughter and wriggling. 

"Switch!" Emily called to Morgan and, in a movement so fast that Reid couldn't stop it, Morgan was behind him holding his arms up and Emily was jamming her fingers between his ribs, sending him into absolute, blind hysteria.

"And you said this was TAME?" questioned Emily, her own laughs leaving her mouth as she took in the comical sight of Spencer's reactions. 

"Oh believe me, it gets so much worse!" chimed in JJ, scurrying over to join in the fun. "Well, worse for Spence, anyway. Far more entertaining for the rest of us, watch this!"

Before Spencer had a chance to think, let alone react, JJ snaked her hands under both of his armpits in one swift motion. Morgan tightened his grip around Spencer's wrists as his squealing and wriggling increased from the change in tickle spot. He tried with all his might to pull his arms down and defend himself but was entirely futile against Morgan's iron grip, especially since he was struggling to gain any control over his muscles in the first place. All he could feel was rippling tickling overwhelming every nerve in his body, every cell of his being was submitted to the merciless attack from his friends. All he could do was laugh, not a single thought formed in his mind beyond how amazing it all felt, to receive such affection from the most important people in his life entirely of their own accord. 

"Ahh! Guys! AH!" He cried and laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes from pure joy.

"What's wrong Spence? Does it tickleee?" Emily teased in a sing song voice. His face, already beet red, appeared to flush even brighter in embarrassment. As her hands wriggled like the legs of a frantic spider all across his body, she noticed his entire body jerk abruptly when her fingers ghosted his stomach.

"EMILY!" Shouted Spencer in a moment of sheer panic. 

"Ohh I think I've found something, do you want me to tickle you there?" She asked with her ever widening shit eating grin, only to be met with him violently avoiding her eyes and squealing incessantly.

"Shut up shut up shut up!" He shouted between bouts of hysteria.

"That means 'Yes Emily! I want you to tickle me right on my stomach!'" JJ called out in a silly voice pretending to be Spencer. 

"SHUT UUUUP!!" He bellowed, trying even harder to wriggle free of Morgan's hold.

"Go on Reid! Tell me that it tickles!" Emily jeered playfully, ghosting her fingers over his stomach again and again but not committing to tickling him properly. Once again, he became a squealing, screeching, laughing mess, trying his utmost to escape and avoid looking at her.

"Uh uh pretty boy! I'm not lettin' go till you tell her!" Morgan grinned down at him.

"Oh that's evil." JJ laughed as she continued to prod and pinch at his neck and underarms.

"Does it tickle Spence? I want to know!" Emily hounded playfully as she continued her antics.

Spencer's mind was a complete mess of embarrassment, overwhelming sensations and pure joy. Obviously it tickled but there was absolutely no way he would say that out loud! He just couldn't! However, every time Emily's fingers brushed his stomach and gave him the slightest hint of the utter bliss he would be in if she finally committed, he grew closer and closer to saying the god forbidden words until they were right on the tip of his tongue.

"I just want to know pretty boy, is it tickly? Does it tickle when I do this?" she taunted as he wriggled her fingers between his ribs and prodded at his waist. Finally, he snapped, with the widest smile anyone had seen on his beautifully overjoyed face.

"Yes! It tickles! Ah! It tickles so much!" He shouted out, and as soon as he did, Emily's hands dove right into his stomach, scribbling, wiggling and tickling every inch of skin she could reach. His howling laughter brought wide smiles to every single face in the room, every little shriek, every hiccup and every squeal was a melody of trust and friendship between them all. Morgan, still holding Spencer's arms, was laughing as he watched the chaos ensue against his helpless captive. JJ, who was tickling every area that Emily was neglecting, has a smile as wide as his own as her own giggles merged with his. And Emily, who was clearly having the time of her life as she ceaselessly barraged him with her tickle attack, was teasing, taunting and laughing jus the same. 

"What's going on out here?" Came the low, gravelly voice of their unit chief as he left his office. 

In an instant, they all let go of the wrecked man stuck to his chair and faced Hotch like school children being caught misbehaving. The moment of silence didn't last long before a small whine sounded from the beet red brunet. 

"Later Reid, I need you all in the conference room. You can kill him later." Hotch smiled before ushering everyone to the conference room, much to Spencer's dismay.

[teslasucks37]

READER TEACHING CHARLIE HOW TO FINGER HER??? YOUR WRITING IS PHENOMENAL

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), sub!Charlie, inexperienced!Charlie, fingering, squirting, afab!Reader (no gendered pronouns)

A/N: Charlie is deffo experienced enough today where he doesn’t have to learn, but if we were to go back in time before he did… 🤤🤤🤤 ALSO THANK U FOR THE COMPLIMENT ON MY WRITING IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!! For a long time I haven’t been able to post any fics of mine cause I thought they weren’t good or was worried that people would be sad that they weren’t done, but Tumblr has been helping me write more often and be okay with what I’ve written, so here’s this 🤭

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader

Teaching Him Hcs!!!

In the past you’d told him to just “do whatever feels right”.

You were simply too horny and needy to explain it to him in the moment.

He’d been a virgin before then, never having much experience with sex in general.

And of course when he did finger you for the first time it didn’t feel AMAZING, but it wasn’t bad by any means.

Well, he must have caught on because the next day he turned to you on the couch while you were watching a show.

“Can you… Teach me? Please?” He practically begged. “I want to know how to make you feel good…”

The question made your thighs clench.

Within seconds, you were laid back on the arm of the chair, your shorts and panties were discarded on the floor.

Charlie sat between your legs, staring in awe at the apex of your thighs, holding them like they were made of gold.

He’s practically silent, so shy and not wanting to miss a single instruction.

You grasp his wrist, separating his middle and ring finger from on his hand. “Use these two.”

Slowly pulling his hand to your pussy, you place the pads of his fingers on your slit and release his wrist.

He sighs, sliding his fingers over your entrance, slipping between your folds gently. “You’re really wet.”

“Cause I like it, Char~” You say with a smile, making his face flush.

He watches how you breathe, squirm, moan at his ministrations.

“But how do I…” He chews at his bottom lip in thought, before slowly turning his hand up and slipping his fingers inside your pussy.

“Fuck…”

He freezes, eyes wide and worried.

“Good.” You reassure him. “So good, Charlie~”

He cautiously moves his fingers in and out, constantly looking up at you to gauge your reactions to what he’s doing, to see what makes you feel the best.

“Curl your fingers up.” You plead, grabbing at his bicep and feeling his muscles flex as he moves.

Instantly, he changes his angle to reach that spongy spot inside you, taking note of the different feel.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, fuck~”

God he’s such a good learner for you.

His fingers and hands are so big he doesn’t even need a third.

And they’re so fucking long he can immediately reach that spot you struggle to with every thrust.

“Other hand.” You reach out with an open hand.

You drag his fingers over your clit, jolting at the sensation. “Feel that?”

He nods, his motions inside you slowing.

“That’s my clit.”

His eyes widen in recognition as he swipes his middle finger over it again.

“Ah~” You breathe out as he circles it all on his own. “Yeah, just like that.”

Charlie’s fingers press harder, just slightly, making your back arch.

“Mmm, keep using your other hand.”

He’s so mesmerized by your reactions he hadn’t even realized he’d stopping fingering you.

You moan out as he starts to finger you again, curling his fingers into just the right spot. “Faster~”

He obeys you perfectly, pounding his fingertips quicker into your gummy walls.

His finger on your clit becomes two fingers, circling it brutally in a way that hurts just the right way.

“Yes, don’t stop!” You moan, your head falling back over the arm of the couch. “Just like that, baby~”

Charlie’s eyes stay on your face, unable to look away from how you squirm.

His fingers feel so good, his combined motions making your vision go white

He feels your walls flutter around him, squirting around his fingers as your thighs shake around his waist.

Your orgasm wets his hands, his wrists, your thighs, his clothes, the couch.

It’s fucking everywhere.

You practically collapse where you lay as Charlie’s hands slow to a stop.

He blinks, almost scared to move.

He’d never seen someone squirt before.

Or cum in general.

Porn didn’t count, half of it probably wasn’t even real.

He watches you come down from your high, panting and shivering. “Was that… Okay?”

“Okay?” You joke, glancing up at him with glassy eyes. “That was amazing.”

Charlie smiled, filling with pride that he’d made you cum with just his fingers.

“Do you wanna be done?”

You grin, poking at the visible erection in his pants. “Not unless he wants to be…”

You guys weren’t done for at least a couple hours.

[melancholyfool]

Eye Contact

Pairing: Henry Winter x Fem!Reader

Summary: While you and the others are at a bar, you catch Henry staring at you intently, the tension between you thickening

The bar is dimly lit, lined with dark wood, and filled with the scent of something smoky—burnt orange peels from someone’s cocktail, maybe, or the ancient varnish of the counters, rubbed raw by too many hands, too many nights like this.

It’s late enough that the initial noise has settled into a comfortable hum. The six of you are pressed into the corner booth, shoulders brushing, the drowsy lull of alcohol softening the sharper edges of the day.

Richard is talking about Cicero, or was it Catullus? You haven’t been listening.

Not since Henry spoke.

He asked you a question. You can’t even remember how it started, what led to it. All you know is that his voice slid through the conversation, effortless, quiet but certain, pulling you into focus like a thread being wound tight.

And now, he is watching you.

No. Not watching—listening.

Henry Winter listens the way other men look: like the act itself is intimate, deliberate, a ritual performed with precise devotion.

You try not to waver beneath the weight of it.

His eyes—Christ, his eyes—are trained on you so intently it's as though your words are worth inscribing on stone. Eternum aliquid. Something eternal.

The corner of his mouth twitches—amusement, curiosity, like quiet, deep enjoyment, and you feel it ripple through the air between you, dark and warm, curling around your spine.

You don’t even remember what you were saying.

You take a sip of your drink, letting the cold bite of the glass steady you, force yourself to hold his gaze as you finish your thought.

"So, if you think about it, the retributive cycle in Aeschylus is never really broken," you say, and your voice is definitely steadier than you feel. "It doesn’t end. It just shifts. There’s no real absolution. No one’s hands are clean."

Henry hums, low in his throat, a quiet sound of approval. He tilts his head slightly, considering you. His fingers, long and elegant, trace absent patterns against the side of his glass, and his gaze hasn’t left yours once.

"No one’s hands are ever clean," he echos back. His voice is dark silk curling at the edges. "Not truly."

There is something in the way he says it.

A weight. A certainty. A knowing.

You feel it low in your stomach, warm and insidious, slipping beneath your ribs, pooling beneath your skin.

The moment stretches.

Henry doesn’t look away.

His pupils are blown dark, swallowing the blue. He looks sculpted from another time or an oil painting lost to the ruin of centuries. Or maybe both.

And he is looking at you.

You can feel it now, the unspoken thing between you, and it's heavy. A current humming beneath the surface, gathering strength, waiting to break.

The air shifts.

Henry’s lips part, just slightly, like he might say something—

"Good God," Bunny slurs, slumping back against the booth. "Do you two ever stop?"

The tension fractures. The spell, if that’s what it was, splinters under the weight of his voice.

You blink, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

"What?" you frown.

Camilla smirks, twirling the stem of her glass between her fingers. "You do realize the rest of us are still here, don’t you?"

You open your mouth, but Charles cuts in smoothly, tipping his drink in Henry’s direction. "Not that it isn’t riveting to watch you two intellectually fornicate, but I’m beginning to feel like I should excuse myself."

A slow, quiet flush creeps up your neck.

You glance at Henry, half-expecting him to scoff, to roll his eyes, to dismiss the implication entirely.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lifts his glass to his lips, takes a slow sip of brandy, and watches you over the rim. He holds your gaze as he swallows, throat bobbing, fingers curling around the crystal.

There’s a darkness curling at the edges of his expression. Amusement... something that looks suspiciously like triumph.

You swallow hard.

Bunny groans dramatically, slamming his drink onto the table. "Oh, for fuck’s sake. I need another drink."

The others laugh and you force a smile, shaking your head as Richard mutters something about the dramatics of the group.

Henry doesn’t look away from you.

Not once.

-

Back at Francis’ house, the night is raw with cold, the air sharp enough to cut. Inside, Richard is likely asleep, Bunny sprawled in a room, snoring through his whiskey dreams.

But Henry is here, and so are you.

The porch is coated in a thin film of frost, glistening under the weak light of the moon. You stand just outside the threshold, arms wrapped around yourself, your breath curling in the air.

It’s too cold to be out here but neither of you go inside.

Instead, Henry withdraws a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, his movements slow. He doesn’t ask if you want one. He simply holds the pack out to you, gaze dark and unreadable beneath the low moonlight.

You take one.

His fingers brush against yours.

It’s nothing.

It’s nothing—but your breath catches anyway.

Henry watches you.

The way you fit the cigarette between your lips. The way the wind teases at the loose strands of your hair. The way you look at him as he lifts his own cigarette to his mouth, a quiet expectancy lingering between you.

Then—

A flick of his lighter. A brief flare of flame.

You lean in, and he lights yours first.

The heat flashes against your face, fleeting but vivid, and for a moment, you look at him through your eyelashes. You can see him in stark detail—the sharp cut of his jaw, the pale angles of his face, the way his lashes cast faint shadows against his skin.

Then the flame dies and you both inhale.

Smoke drifts lazily between you, curling at the edges of the cold.

"Do you always stare this much, or is it just me?" you murmur, exhaling a slow breath of smoke.

Henry hums, tilting his head slightly. "Do you always deflect with humour, or is it just me?"

You smile, taking another drag. "I don’t know. You tell me."

Henry exhales, the smoke slipping between his lips in a slow, calculated way, like everything he does.

"I think you like it," he says finally.

You blink. "Like what?"

"The way I look at you."

It’s not a question.

The cold does nothing to stop the warmth that rushes to your face.

You could argue. Laugh. Roll your eyes.

But instead, you only meet his gaze.

You hold it.

“You seem very sure of yourself,” you whisper.

Henry exhales another slow ribbon of smoke, gaze never leaving yours.

“I am.”

You swallow. Shift slightly, pressing the cigarette between your fingers.

The wind howls softly through the trees, cold air biting at your bare skin, but you don’t move to go inside. You’re caught in the thick and heavy smoke passing between the two of you.

It's dangerous.

Henry continues to watch you.

He waits.

But you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking away first.

So he does something else.

He places his cigarette on the ashtray, reaches out, so slowly that your breath stutters, and plucks the cigarette from your fingers.

Holds it between his own.

Raises it to his lips.

And inhales.

Something in your stomach tightens.

He doesn’t smirk. He doesn’t say anything at all. He simply exhales the smoke into the night, then—without looking away—reaches forward and presses the cigarette back between your fingers.

Your skin is warm where he touched you.

You hate that he knows it.

The silence lingers. The tension stretches, thin as a thread, taut enough to snap.

The faint sound of a door opening inside.

A creak. Footsteps. Someone moving in the house.

The moment shatters.

Henry takes another slow inhale of his cigarette, exhaling through his nose as he finally breaks eye contact, gaze flickering toward the door.

His voice—low, smooth, knowing, “You should get some rest.”

You swallow. Flick the cigarette away, watching as the embers scatter against the ground.

“Goodnight, Henry.”

He watches you slip inside.

Watches the door click shut behind you.

And then he exhales.

[gvshing]

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─PRETTY GIRL DEALING─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

(warning for weed usage and dealing!!) pt 1.

⊹₊⋆CHAPTER TWO⊹₊⋆

Ellie knocks on your dorm door, as softly as you had earlier that day. You open it and usher her inside. Ellie nervously stands off to the side while you lock your door back and you turn around to look at her. Ellie stutters out a “You… uh… you look nice.” when she sees you in the simple loose pajama shorts and blue tee a size too big for you. You giggle at her stutters. “Thanks Ellie. And thanks for coming over! I figured I had to thank you somehow, so why not smoke together the weed you sold me at the cheapest price ever?” you say, trying to sound chill about it. She nods, though if you weren’t looking at her so intensely, you might not have noticed. You motion towards the bed before flopping on it aggressively. “So���” She says, anxiety slowly bubbling inside her higher and higher now that she’s actually here in front of you once more. She sits next to you as casually as she can muster, trying not to look too stiff or awkward. “So…” you mimic her tone and smile at her. “You know, I’ve been friends with Dina for a semester and like a half now. Isn’t it weird we’ve never met?” You say realizing Dina had been keeping her a secret from you this whole time. “Oh yeah.. That’s kinda weird. I don’t really go anywhere but classes though to be fair. I’m not a party person. Too anxious. And I really only sell out of my dorm, it’s rare that I go somewhere else to deal. All my clients are here on campus. Dina was saying she was wanting us to be friends, but she had never mentioned you before today. No offense I’m sure, she just doesn’t talk a lot about other friends… Which now that I’m thinking about it is weird. She talks about everything.. Hm.. ” Ellie rants on accident. Maybe this was a bad idea, there’s no way she’s going to be able to hold it together for this entire interaction. She’s certainly going to make a fool of herself in some way. That seems to be what she’s good at. And it seems that was already happening. “No! Me neither to be honest! The only parties I’ve gone to were because my dealer was there or I went with a friend and then was promptly ditched by said friend.” You say trying to make her feel less like an introvert, even though she was in good company if that’s what she was worried about. “And yeah.. Dina doesn’t talk much about her other friends I’m noticing as well. She kept you a secret from me for so long. That’s messed up Dina.” you joke. Ellie laughs along with you. Eventually she starts feeling less anxious the longer you two sit and talk.

You and Ellie fell into a natural rhythm after a while. Before you knew it, it was almost two in the morning. “Oh, shit. It’s late. I’m sorry. I totally lost track of time.” You blurt out when you see the time flash across your phone screen. “I have a morning class, and you probably do as well. God, I knew it was late and I just couldn’t wait to hang out, and now you’re going to be dead tired in the morning and it’s going to be my fault.” talking so fast, Ellie stares at your freaking form. ‘How are they both way less anxious than me and also way more anxious than me?’ flashes through Ellie’s head before she laughs and puts a hand on your leg to get you to calm down a bit. “It’s okay! I do have a class but, I’m always surviving off like 5 hours of sleep a night so it’s chill. I promise. I’ll head out though, so you can get some sleep. Thanks for having me over, this was fun.” Ellie stands up and heads towards the door, gathering her random belongings she had placed on the floor next to the door. “Ugh, I wish we could hang out longer. Text me when you get back so I know you got back safe, Okay?” You tell her and wrap her in the second hug of the night from you. “Of course. I’ll see you.” Ellie pulls back and gives you a smile, this time placing a kiss on your cheek. You break out in a blush and watch as she walks out of your room. You lock the door behind her and promptly run to your bed and pounce on it. You squeal into your pillow and flip around to be on your back so you can stare at the ceiling. You take deep breaths and calm your fast beating heart. She might kill you via heart attack if you’re not careful. It’s nice to find someone attractive again. To have a crush on someone, it’s almost a foreign feeling. The feeling of butterflies and clammy hands that don’t stem from anxiety that’s eating away at you. You wait patiently for the buzz of your phone signalling that she had texted you that she was safe and sound. You send your quick reply and flip around to try to drift into sleep. It took you a bit longer than usual to fall asleep, you felt like a child on christmas eve. That happy anxiety keeps you from falling faster into that safe void of dreamland you had always found refuge in. It’s good though, you have to remind yourself. You’ll have to thank Dina later for bringing you this new adventure and placing it so softly into your hands. And also punch her in the arm for keeping it from you for as long as she had.

Ellie reaches her dorm door and instantly sends you her text of reassuring that she’s safe. She walks in, kicks her shoes off, and lays on her bed. Instantly falling deep in thought. She needs to be careful. Yes, you guys get along. Yes, you’re cute. Yes, you’re nice. And you don’t seem like the type to take advantage, but she can’t be too careful. She’s been fucked over before. She’s a drug dealer. She can’t forget that. She can’t get too close, too fast. Otherwise there’s a chance of heartbreak there. A chance of Joel telling her once again that she needs to think things through better. She should call Joel. She’s been putting it off, sending him the occasional ‘I love you’ and ‘Yes i'm okay and no i haven't been kidnapped’ texts. She’ll do that soon. She drifts into an anxious sleep, thinking about all the what if’s in her head.

The next morning you get ready with a slight pep in your step. Ellie gets ready with her usual groggy and foot dragging pace. When the hours of lectures are over, you both find yourselves in your respective dorms. You start the schoolwork you’ve been putting off and quickly kill 3 hours. Ellie, on the other hand, waits for Dina to arrive for their hang out session. She distracts herself by pulling up minecraft on her laptop. She mindlessly destroys blocks and places them down for about 45 minutes. Looking at the clock every 10 minutes, she feels her anxiety getting worse the closer to the time of Dina’s arrival. She shouldn’t be nervous to hang out with her friend whom she’s known for years. But, she is. Ellie’s jumpscared when she looks over from her minecraft to see Dina standing directly next to her desk. “Shit! Dina, you scared me, what the fuck? What happened to the knocking?” Ellie has her chest in her hands, grasping at her heart. Dina laughs at Ellie and falls back on Ellie’s bed. “You’re fine! It’s just me. You knew what time I was coming!  Your door was unlocked and it’s not like you were doing anything scandalous, anyway.” Dina retorts. Ellie rolls her eyes at Dina and moves her chair to sit next to the bed. “Yeah, but I could’ve been! You don’t know what I do when you’re not around!” Dina copies Ellie’s eye roll and sits up on her elbows. “Ellie. Be for real. You don’t have any bitches and I know you just watch people play games on youtube, play the game yourself, play guitar, deal weed and SOMETIMES you’ll watch some weird 80’s sci fi movie that makes me gag from how bad it is. I know what you’re about, I’m your best friend.” Dina smiles wide at her, baring all her teeth. Ellie scoffs and kicks her feet up to rest on the bed. “Okay, fine, you’ve got me there. But, I’m starting to think I’m not your best friend… Keeping your friends away from me.. God woe is me, Dina.” Dina laughs and throws a pillow at Ellie that she catches in her hands and tosses aside.

“You’re dramatic, Els. I just never think of it. Besides, you know Jesse and that’s enough isn’t it?” “No! He doesn’t count! You guys are a package deal! You know what I’m talking about, Dina.” Ellie raises her eyebrows dramatically at Dina. “God, Ellie. Look, I didn’t think that you guys wouldn’t like each other. I just figured that neither of you would care that bad, you’re both introverts. My bad for not setting you up.” Dina, now sitting up, crosses her arms in defense. Ellie sighs. “Y/N is nice, that’s all. I’m just fucking with you, Dina. I promise.” Dina uncrosses her arms and grins at Ellie. “Alright, if you say so. I should’ve told you I was sending them your way before you were even texted. That’s my bad. But, yeah, they’re nice. I’m glad you think so.” Ellie moves to sit on the bed across from Dina. “Yeah.. I feel that you guys would click nicely. Both anxious as hell. You both smoke. You both are obnoxious about your gaming youtubers.” Ellie shoves Dina. “Shut up! I am not obnoxious about them! I watch them often, that's it! You’re the dramatic one, Dina.” “Whatever! You two are like, perfect for eachother.” Ellies sighs for the thousandth time, “Dina, I appreciate you playing matchmaker, I do. But, I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve gotten fucked over because of my title as a dealer. I’m not trying to have that happen again. That shit sucked.” Dina rolls her eyes and puts her hand out for Ellie to hold. Ellie grabs it hesitantly and tilts her head to the side, anxious to hear what Dina had to say. “Ellie, I get it. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to. Especially at the expense of Y/N. They’re nice. And I don’t want them getting fucked over just as much as I don’t want you getting fucked over. I trust them. Trust me by trusting them. Take it slow. I see the giddiness inside you, Ellie!” Dina exclaims on the brink of annoyance at Ellie’s distrust. Ellie smiles and looks at her lap, shaking her head. “Okay, Dina. I’ll trust you by trusting her. But, I’m not going to throw myself into it.” Dina nods in acceptance. “That’s all I ask! Fuck that other bitch who fucked you over! You’re a bad bitch and you deserve equally as bad as a bitch!” Ellie and Dina laugh together and spend the rest of the night in lighthearted conversation.

You on the other hand spent your night cuddled in bed after you finished all your schoolwork, minus a few odds and ends you need to finish for random projects or essays. You had texted Ellie asking how her day had gone but hadn’t quite gotten a text back. The anxiety rested in your chest from not getting a reply but you kept reminding yourself you just met the day before. You guys didn’t even really know each other that well. Deciding it shouldn’t be this big of a deal to you is how you find yourself in your current position. Youtube blaring on the T.V. in front of you. When you do finally receive a text back from Ellie, it’s just a simple ‘Hey sorry I’m just now seeing this! I was hanging out with Dina! My day was good! How was yours?’ By this time it was about 11 pm and you were feeling way too tired to hold a conversation from your previous night of little sleep. You end up just sending back ‘No worries! I hope hanging out with Dina was good! I miss her lol. Feel like I haven’t seen her in weeks even though it was like 3 days ago. My day was good! I hope you have a good sleep!’ You stand up and start to get ready for bed. You wash your face, fill your bedside cup with water and turn off your lights besides the set of fairy lights you have strung around your bed. You opt to not check your phone before plugging it in. If you see a text back from Ellie you’ll feel the need to reply, and you need to sleep. If there's not a text back from her, you’ll feel the sadness in your chest you’ve been trying to avoid. Nestling into bed, you drift off to sleep faster than the night before. Thoughts of school and Ellie in your mind. Hoping you’re not coming off too strong. Hoping you can be normal. Hoping, hoping, hoping.

Laying in bed, Ellie rehashes her day. She trusts Dina’s word about you. But, she just can’t seem to trust herself. Ellie feels that familiar feeling of unease pass over her and she turns over on her side a bit viciously, closing her eyes she refuses to think about it any longer. She’ll deal with it in the morning. She falls asleep, glow in the dark stars plastered over her head, and she dreams of nothing.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Tumblr makes it so hard to post on here sometimes. throwing up pissing and shitting currently. anywayyyy

[lilithschosen]

"#she could spit on me and i'd thank her and ask for more" you can't write those tags and then not do anything with it.... 👀👉👈

the WAY my brainworms got this and went "oh fuck yes we got this" holy shit. ok ok ok

Agatha fucking hated, and still hates, when Rio wears her badge. It doesn't mean anything now since she is no longer a federal agent, but she wears it from time to time to put pressure on suspects. It makes sense, but it feels like Rio is pulling rank on her.

Seeing that chain around her neck with that black leather holder against her chest all day made her want to rip it off and throw it into the woods.

Rio pushes the door open with her foot, hands full with case files and her bag. Agatha follows in a bit behind her, an unamused look on her face as she shuts and locks the door behind her.

"That kid nearly spilled I can feel it," Rio begins, irritated. "I know he did it too. He's shifty, there's no reason to be in the graveyard after dusk when you have literally no one buried in there."

Agatha grumbles under her breath, nothing loud enough that Rio makes out. She offloads the files into the coffee table and sets her bag down by the door before turning to Agatha.

"Okay, talk."

Agatha sneers, kneeling down to untie her boots. "About what?"

Rio rolls her eyes, hand on her hip. "You've been mad all day. What's your problem?"

"That fucking badge is my problem."

Rio pinches the bridge of her nose, breathing in slowly as she thinks over her word choice carefully. Agatha stares up at her as she tugs off her first boot and starts working on the other.

"You're telling me," she begins, "Your entire shitty behaviour today, your quick and snappy responses, and the cold shoulder during lunch, is all because of my old badge?"

"Yup."

Rio recoils at the enunciated plosive, running her tongue against the back of her teeth. She walks over to Agatha and stands above her, leaning so the badge hovers just above her face.

"You're fucking joking."

Rio shakes her head.

"This badge?" She picks it up, flipping the black leather flap open to show the shiny metal underneath. "Is solely to intimidate dickheads that think they're above the law. It has never been, and will never be, me telling you I'm better than you."

Agatha hesitates as she goes to pull her other boot off. Rio rarely gets this pissed off, Agatha learned rather quickly that Rio developed emotional regulation where she did not. She tugs the boot off slowly and lines it with the other next to her.

Rio sees the demeanour change, how Agatha doesn't sit up fully while knelt in front of her. She moves forward and grabs Agatha by her ponytail, tilting her head back with one hand while holding her badge in the other.

"You and I are equals," Rio's voice is low, serious. Agatha tries to fight the urge to meet her eyes but fails. "Your feelings of being subservient, while they're valid and I understand what you're coming from, are not realistic. This metal has no hold on you."

Rio jerks her head back further and Agatha's mouth opens, lips curling as she hisses from the pain. She sees it, the spark of arousal in Agatha's darkening eyes.

Rio drops the badge and grips Agatha's chin, forcing her mouth open further as she leans in more over her. She holds her tongue down in her mouth, gathering saliva before pushing it out past her lips. The long strand of spit descends before snapping and dropping into Agatha's mouth.

Rio taps Agatha's chin up, indicating she should close it.

"Swallow it."

Agatha doesn't blink, doesn't falter, doesn't move anything other than her jaw up to close her mouth as she swallows Rio's spit.

"Good girl."

Her mouth opens again, now in surprise. The power dynamic, the explanation. She wasn't using her badge to remind Agatha she's lesser, but was using the moment to twist it into something beneficial for the both of them.

"I-," Agatha stutters. Rio's hand darts out, wrapping around her throat as she squeezes just enough for Agatha to feel it. "More."

Rio raises an eyebrow, head turning slightly as she smirks. "Thank me first."

"Thank you, Rio," Agatha rasps, her mouth suddenly drier than ever before. "More, please."