#i need a raise. i need to stay longer at work. i need all kinds of things

[dickvinci]

and i know i could and possibly might just start posting about fics and what not that i'm writing her and set up a kofi and take suggestions and what not but. it's a lot of work.

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna assimilating to you

Synopsis: After discovering that Sukuna has been wide awake every time you nap together, you become embarrassed around him.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It is a scientific fact that when we are around people we love and trust, while in a healthy relationship, the release of oxytocin makes us sleepy.

Sukuna does not need sleep. He is the king of curses, able to continuously use his technique without ever becoming exhausted. When you first suggested that his chambers were "perfect for napping", he had simply raised a brow and considered what that could possibly mean.

You are like a weak creature to him. A kitten or perhaps a rabbit. And since you are never safer than when you are in his presence, you frequently find yourself growing sleepy when you are around him.

Throughout your strange relationship with the king, something that you loved most, is that there never needs to be words exchanged between the two of you. You were both contented to sit in silence. Frequently dozing off together, or so you thought.

You caught on eventually, that he was always awake before you. That his breathing pattern never really changed. That his face never relaxed more than it would if he had simply been sitting with his eyes closed.

One morning, after having stayed the night sleeping, you mumbled to him, "How is it you're always awake before I?"

He rose a brow at you, his upper set of eyes were looking into yours, the lower staring at how you lay across his bed sheets.

"I do not know your meaning." He grumbled out.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You never sleep in longer than I do, one day I would like to wake up before you."

"I never sleep at all." He stated before you had even really finished your sentace.

"What?" Your breathy outburst echoed slightly in his bed chamber, "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

"I do not require such things." He turned his torso now toward you, all four eyes studying your face, you had quickly sprung up, seemingly miffed.

"So... so all this time, you've just been... laying there while I've been sleeping?"

"I suppose I have, I do not see how this matters in the slightest." "It matters because I've been... It's just been a big waste of time for you. Sukuna you should have said something." You're upset, he can tell. Your face is scrunched up, your blood is pounding in your veins. Sukuna, however, does not know what to say in this situation.

In all honesty, he figured you knew and were just including him. Did you really think he was that weak? Or could you simply not conceive of a restless existence? Whatever the answer, he had no response for you, expecting a shrug of the shoulders- you he would discover, would not so easily let go of things.

And how humiliated you were. How many HOURS had you spent sleeping with him, within his grasp, in his space for him to have been conscious the whole time? You tried thinking back, attempting to recall a time you had requested a nap when he was uninterested.

He had never uttered a word about it. Never turned you down. Sukuna was not a kind king, he rarely ever did things that were not out of necessity, and he certainly did not do things he didn't like. That, at least, was consolation. You knew he had not been suffering for your sake, but even so, it was embarrassing.

Sukuna, still, could not understand your sheepishness about the subject. He did not care to explain that time works differently for him, that his mind is not so simple as yours and does not require entertainment all the time, that he could sit still for years and not be bothered, and frequently did before you came along.

He assumed you would get over it quickly. In your time as well as his. But days passed and he rarely saw you. You took your dinner with other people of the palace and spoke with him in the most cordial manner. One night, he informed Uraume that they needed to prepare a dish suited for you, something that would entice you, and serve it to him.

He figured this would bring you crawling back to him, tail between your legs. Yet, you did not budge.

Odd.

You were wallowing. You knew it. He did not care to spend time, what? Watching you sleep? Of course, he wouldn't, but it hurt your pride, to know you had been taking up such huge chunks of time lazing about in his presence. Well, not anymore. You slept in your chamber and your chamber alone. Gone were the days of blankets on the engawa, gone were the days of resting beneath the kotatsu while laying your head in his lap, gone were the days of sharing his bed.

If ever he wished for someone to share his bed, he had a whole cast of concubines, though you knew they were never of any use to him, they were mostly just house staff with a fancy title.

The evening he finally decided enough was enough, you were in the washhouse doing laundry.

Your back was arched over a bin full of soapy water. Your hands working tirelessly on some cloth.

"Have you not circumvented me enough?" He spoke in a low and slow tone.

"Lord Sukuna." You bowed, clothing in your hands, suds up your forearms, you bent your neck as to not look at him.

"You will reply now." He raised a brow, watching your hands quietly splash in the washbin.

"Was there something you would like me to assist to?" You questioned. Your head was full of possible reasons for what the king meant by seeking you out personally.

"Do you believe that by not sleeping in my presence I would come to believe you do not require rest?" He spoke in an unserious tone, eyes unblinking.

"No, my lord." Now what was he playing at? Of course that wasn't your intention.

"Then you hide yourself from me because you no longer have time for your king, I suppose." He mused.

Oh, for heaven's sake, "No, my lord."

"I see," He bent down to look you dead in the eyes, "So, you must no longer crave my occupancy of your space. You must not desire my hand running through your hair? I suppose you have tired of staying in my chambers?" His tone remained deep but his eyes were dead serious now.

"I-" You began, but suddenly you felt the urge to cough, swallowing you tried again, "I wished not to preoccupy so much of your time."

"And you made this decision without enlightening your king."

You said nothing.

"You will eat with me tonight, you shall stay in my chambers henceforth." He rose in record speed, turning without a second glance your way, maids were staring wide-eyed at the king of curses as he halted at the entrance of the washhouse. You could not see, but there was finality in his voice.

"I wish not to waste-" You were cut off by Sukunas voice, his broad back still facing you.

"Your wishes do not interest me now, so it seems. It is my wish for you to spend your time with me." His steps resounded through the compound, your face slack.

The maids smirked, and with shocked faces, side-eyed one another. A couple entered the washhouse giving you big open-mouthed smiles, and patted your shoulder as they passed.

That night Uraume made something you would go on to beg them to make for years to come. And when Sukuna pulled you prone from your seated position on his bed, he took a firm fingertip and stroked the space between your eyes, one of his enormous hands encircling your skull and massaging your temples with his thumb and ring fingers. He traced the bridge of your nose to your forehead, the way you would stroke a cat.

Perhaps he thought this would induce drowsiness but all it did was make you feel all floaty inside at his silliness.

And for the first time since that night, you slept alongside him. Within his embrace, and when you awoke, Sukuna's eyes were closed.

[mohammedziara]

Help Us Survive This Winter: A Father’s Plea ❤️‍🩹

My name is Mohammed, and I never imagined that one day I would have to write these words, asking for help to simply keep my family alive. I used to work as a painter and decorator, taking pride in providing for my family and raising my two boys, Arafa and Mohammed, with love and security. But everything changed overnight.

Our home, the place where we built memories, was destroyed in a bombing. The car I depended on to make a living was reduced to ashes. We were left with nothing. Now, my family—my wife, my parents, my brother Ahmed, and my boys—are crammed into a school near the Port of Gaza, a shelter that is no longer a place of learning, but a refuge for the displaced.

The constant sound of gunfire and bombs haunt us day and night. Each explosion shakes the ground beneath us and tears at our spirits. My children, Arafa and Mohammed, once so full of life, now cower in fear. They have nightmares and cry in their sleep. The trauma they are enduring has stolen their childhood. My heart breaks every time I see the fear in their eyes, knowing that I can’t make it go away.

We are living in survival mode. There is no money for food. No fuel to stay warm as winter creeps closer. No medicine to treat the constant sicknesses that come with our living conditions. And no warm clothing to protect my children from the freezing nights that are just around the corner. I watch them shiver, hungry and cold, and I feel utterly powerless as a father.

We’ve lost everything, and I have no means to provide for my family. We’ve reached a point where we cannot survive without help. I never thought I’d be in this position—having to rely on the generosity of strangers to keep my family alive. But I am here, pleading with you, because the alternative is unthinkable.

Please, if you can spare anything at all, it could mean the difference between life and death for us. Your donation, no matter how small, can help us buy food so my children won’t go to bed hungry. It can help us find fuel to keep warm in the brutal winter months ahead. It can provide medicine for my boys and warm clothing to protect them from the cold.

I know the world is full of need right now, but I hope you can find it in your heart to help my family. We are just one of many who have lost everything, but to us, your kindness could change our world. It could give my children a chance to feel safe again, to heal from the trauma they are carrying, and to survive the months ahead.

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for anything you can do to help. Your generosity will not only provide us with the necessities we need to survive but also restore a bit of hope in a time when it feels like all hope has been lost.

With all my heart, thank you.

[gurugirl]

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

.                 .                 .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

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[flwrkid14]

Bruce shares custody of Tim with Harley Quinn

Yeah, you read that right. Gotham’s broodiest billionaire vigilante and the queen of chaotic energy are co-parenting Tim Drake. And, somehow, that’s not even the weirdest thing that's happened to the bats this year.

Why? Two words: Joker Junior.

The details are locked down tighter than the Batcave, but here’s what everyone knows (or guesses): Joker broke Tim in ways none of them can fathom. He didn’t just try to kill him—he tried to make Tim like him. And while Tim clawed his way back from the brink, he didn’t do it alone. Harley was there.

She was part of the nightmare. And then, unexpectedly, she was part of the healing. She stepped in, helped Tim survive when Joker was doing his worst. When it was all over, when Joker was (temporarily) gone, she didn’t vanish into Gotham’s chaos. She stayed.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Tim started calling her “Mom.”

And Bruce didn’t stop him.

Cue the Batfamily losing their collective minds.

Dick is pacing the Batcave, gesturing wildly. “Bruce, this is Harley Quinn we’re talking about! You don’t just co-parent with a rogue! There are laws against this! Or, like, there should be!”

Jason is sitting on the Batmobile, arms crossed, voice dripping with disbelief. “She’s literally a former rogue. She tried to kill you! Like, more than once. This is insane, even for you.”

Steph is perched on the edge of a desk, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Okay, but, like, can you blame Tim? Harley does make amazing pancakes. Better than Alfred’s, honestly—”

A scandalized gasp echoes from the other side of the room.

Cass just watches quietly, her head tilted, but there’s a small, knowing smile on her face. She gets it. She’s seen the way Tim softens around Harley, how he relaxes in a way he doesn’t around anyone else.

Damian glares at Bruce like he’s lost his last shred of common sense. “Father, you have truly surpassed yourself. Allowing that woman into the sanctity of our home—”

Duke raises a hand cautiously. “Okay, but can we at least talk about how Tim basically has diplomatic immunity now? No rogue in Gotham is gonna mess with him. He’s Harley’s kid!”

And it’s true. Between Harley’s reputation and Poison Ivy stepping in as Tim’s unofficial stepmom (because of course she and Harley got back together), the rogues have adopted a weird kind of reverence for him. Tim’s no longer just a bat to them—he’s Harley’s kid.

Picture this: Tim’s out on patrol, and Riddler has the gall to interrupt with a riddle—only to end it with, “You’re sharper than I thought, kid. Guess Harley taught you well, huh?” before disappearing into the night.

Harley’s brand of parenting is chaotic but deeply personal. She knows Tim’s tells, the way his hands shake when he’s overwhelmed or the too-quiet moments when he’s retreating into himself. She’s the one who sits cross-legged on the floor with him, working on puzzles and cracking jokes until the tension lifts.

She carries extra band-aids in her purse because “Ya never know when a fight with some thug is gonna leave ya with a paper cut!” She also leaves sticky notes on his projects with scribbled messages like “You’re a genius, baby boy!” or “Don’t forget snacks!” They’re goofy, sure, but they make Tim smile when he needs it most. She keeps a stash of snacks in the Manor because Tim forgets to eat when he’s working. She shows up with pancakes at 3 a.m., douses everything in syrup, and calls him “baby boy” in that soft tone that makes Tim feel… safe.

Even Harley’s chaos has an odd kind of comfort to it. She’ll burst into the Manor unannounced, dragging Tim into impromptu “self-care parties” with face masks, bad rom-coms, and every flavor of ice cream imaginable. Somehow, it works.

Ivy, on the other hand, balances Harley’s energy with her own structured nurturing. She insists on “proper nutrition” and occasionally sends Tim home with meal prep containers filled with organic, eco-friendly food labeled things like “Stress-Busting Smoothie” or “Brain-Boosting Soup.” If Bruce raises an eyebrow at it, Ivy simply reminds him that “The human body can only fight crime properly with the right fuel, Bats.”

One time, she cornered Bruce in the greenhouse, pointing an accusatory finger. “If you send Tim out on patrol without a proper meal or at least six hours of sleep, I swear, Bruce, your rose garden is compost.”

And while Harley is the queen of hugs and chaos, Ivy is the one who sits with Tim on the porch at night, talking softly about resilience and regrowth, using plant metaphors Tim pretends not to understand but secretly finds comforting. Once, after a particularly bad night, she gifted him a small cactus with a note: “Even when it feels like the world is trying to tear you apart, you’re stronger than you think. Also, low maintenance, like you.”

Bruce knows the family doesn’t fully understand. But as he watches Harley teaching Tim how to make lasagna one night, the two of them laughing as the kitchen turns into a war zone of flour and tomato sauce, he doesn’t regret it.

Sometimes family doesn’t look like you think it will. Sometimes it’s stitched together from the most unexpected pieces.

And sometimes, it’s an ex-rogue, a traumatized teen, and a brooding billionaire all trying to figure out how to keep the lasagna from burning.

Welcome to Gotham.

[webbluvrsugar]

winters as Rafe’s trophy wife.

This time of the year is the toughest, Rafe is home late almost everyday for business, sometimes even stays at his office for longer than he should and even when he works from home, you rarely get to see him. Still, you keep yourself busy with his words ringing in your head — “‘s nothing personal baby, you know I still love you, we’ll go out when I can.” — so you wait for it, that day doesn’t really come soon and you both know that you’ve been moodier ever since. You blame it on the season, Rafe can see through that, he knows you just need a few nights to settle down and you’ll be fine.

So, when you’re hugging a pillow, tea cold and forgotten on the nightstand along with medicine you’ve taken, Rafe knocks on the door a few times, it’s weird, he hasn’t really done this in a while, it even feels foreign, normally he’ll just barge in and deal with whatever reaction you throw at him, now, it feels too crude for him to do so.

“Yes?” You ask, eyes peering up to look at him as you sniff and wipe away a tear.

“Can I — uh…” Rafe’s never been good at this kind of stuff. “Stay with you a bit?”

You nod, he finally steps in the room, notices the pills randomly falling flat across the room, the way you’re wearing some extra warm pyjamas. He slides in with you, sits up, it’s mainly awkward.

“So.. you’ve been sick, huh?” He takes a hold of your face with a hand, gently caresses your chin. “I’m sorry I haven’t noticed before, would’ve taken you to a doc’ or sum’”

You roll your eyes, let out a grumpy huff and try to turn your head away, it’s only when he forces it back to him that you melt.

“It’s fine…” you pout, make a whole scene, anything to keep him while he has a bit of free time.

He chuckles, presses his lips into a thin line before he answers you. “Real funny,” he jokes. “what do you want?”

You don’t answer, at least not bluntly, all you do is huff one more time before he raises a brow. “Oh? Alright, I know what you want — come on, bend over and get that ass up.”

So you do because suddenly, your shitty mood has been fixed with the promise of getting some dick, he watches in disbelief as you quickly get into position, accepting whatever he gives you.

“Funny how your mood depends on that pussy.”

[nemesyaaa]

sweet babyface // toxic!bbydaddy!rafe x reader

summary ; rafe was decided to make your little one, a kook princess. and if it means to spend a million of dollars on a diamond swarovski tiara just to see it on the head of his daughter, you can be sure he's gonna do it.

warnings ; basically fluff but i would add +18 bc of a little bit of suggestive content but not real smut. mention of breeding kink. kind of toxic relationship. a bit of stalking. financial dependence. be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; i just wanted to mention @princessbrunette for the bbydaddy!rafe verse. you can check it on her account <3

even if you tried every time to keep him away, push him away, avoid him or chase him, rafe always came back. you could be cold, distant, suspicious and even cruel, he didn't care. by the way, he was better than you at that game anyway? it wasn’t for nothing that you always lost trying to fight him. he was winning while you were just exhausting yourself out. sometimes you wonder why you let him into your life, why you thought it would be a good idea to have a baby with him when everyone on the island told you he was unstable and uncontrollable. some even laughed at your situation, saying it was like giving something to the devil and hoping he doesn't use it against you.

you couldn't say rafe was a bad father. your daughter had always been outrageously spoiled. he always gave her the biggest and greatest gifts. nothing was ever good enough for his princess. he always thought big when it came to his baby. even if you were a pogue, he wanted to raise her as a fucking kook.

and sometimes you wondered if he did all this out of pure fatherly love or out of narcissism or ego.even if you hated him so much, he absolutely needed to make sure your child was on his side. every time he was there, it was like you no longer existed. the house was full of "dad," "daddy, “ or “ papa, " and babbling and laughing. it was always his name, she never called you. and you always felt a pang in your heart every time he grabbed her in his big veiny arms, making her the happiest little girl before taking her away from you to go on some weekly trips.

even when he was not at home, it was always with the toys he gave her that she played, the dresses he gave her that she wore, the hairstyles that he validated by facetime that she asked you to make, the meals he delivered that she wanted to eat. she was truly daddy’s girl. even in her facial features.

so no matter how much you tried to ignore him, he was still there somehow . through the demands of your daughter, the hundreds of deliveries a day to your door, the objects in this house and even its walls because he was obviously the one who paid for it.

you didn't need to work. you had access to all his cards. at first you spent tons of money on unnecessary expenses hoping it would drive him crazy but the next day you saw that even more money had been added to the bank account.

but rafe cameron didn't give you access to his banking data out of pure kindness and affection alone. he was also looking for a way to control you, and stay in your life. then, with that, he could also stalk you and do inappropriate things like when you bought lingerie and he received the bill. he couldn't stop himself from sending you a message. “don't want to see me, but you dress yourself like you want me to give you a second baby ;) ”

the only rule was that you were forbidden from going to see another man and even less from inviting him to the house. he manipulated you by saying it was for your daughter's mental balance but it was purely out of jealousy. and you knew it very well. you weren't the stupid naive girl he had gaslighted in the past and who he could lie to so easily anymore.

one day, you were giving your kid the extremely expensive cupcakes rafe had bought for her breakfast, trying not to comment on the ridiculousness of the prices but especially the situation, and there was a knock at the door. when you saw through the blinder that it was him, you stepped back discreetly, swallowing hard to not clench. your heart was beating fast in your ribcage as you were trying to silence your stepfoots.

“I know you're here.” you had heard his loud firm raspy voice through the door. “baby, i can hear you breathing and backing up from here. come on, i thought we both get over the time i scared you. ”

he continued to knock on the door until your old neighbor called you claiming that a crazy madman was in front of your house and didn't want to leave.

you had been forced to open up to him which made you even angrier.

but that didn’t stop him from smiling at you, the insatiable white colgate smile. his clean and fresh mullet was long enough that hair brushed the back of his neck. he was wearing one of his perfect black suits with the sleeves rolled up to show a glimpse of his nice shirt. a Rolex was tight around his veiny wrist, and the same rings he always wore were wrapped around his fingers.

he had his ear pierced recently with your daughter. you had been against it, but she still wanted to do like her father so you had no authority over the sweet monster. but you had to admit that the jewelry suited them both so well. especially on rafe, you couldn't help but think about kissing his ear, but especially biting his earlobe while caressing the silver piercing until it's wet and rolling against your tongue. all this perhaps while thinking of having a baby again.

“I should be allowed to come here whenever I want. " he had sworn under his breath, staring at you with his evil blue eyes.

“tell me what you have to say or I’ll call the police.” you replied shortly.

"I want to see my girl. I mean, the one who likes to call me daddy. "

“It’s not funny and she doesn’t want to…”

you hadn't had time to finish speaking before your babyface's little footsteps were running on the floor to come into the hall.

“daddy! " she exclaimed before being carried off the ground to snuggle into her father's strong arms, her little frame being hidden by the size of his biceps.

“that's my little girl.” he welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek, making her chuckle.

"I missed you! please, stay !" your kid had asked with bubbly face and pleading eyes, her childish pout so irresistible to say no.

“of course, I’m staying.”

“raf…” you started but he ignored you, walking in the house without your permission into the living room.

“I have something for you, peaches. ”

he took a present out of his bag and you rolled your eyes. you already knew it was going to be something crazy like the giant dollhouse he built in her bedroom, or the huge dinette in the playroom, or a scary tall comfort teddy bear that she couldn't even carry in her tiny hands. sometimes you wondered what he could offer to her because she already had everything. he had literally built her a heaven.

your daughter's eyes widened in surprise, while a smile floated across her lips in excitement. she opened the gift and took out a silver tiara set with diamonds and stunning crystals signed by Swarovski.

“she’s a baby, rafe…” you commented.

"no, she's a princess. " he corrected you and fixed your little one's hair before putting the tiara on her head, and placing a smack on her forehead. “ don't you see that kook babyface ? ”

she giggled before wrapping her hands around his neck to thank him.

“we need to talk.” you said.

"later. i have a princess to honor for now."

you wanted to fight back and kill him but you couldn't resist your daughter's face. she was happy to be with her father. and you knew it was important for girls to establish a strong bond with their father. and there was this bright spark that shone in her eyes every time she saw him that made you melt.

so you let him stay at home. he stayed with her all day. she managed to make him do whatever she wanted, and that's how he found himself playing with dolls, watching the princess and the frog, doing karaoke to barbie songs, serving as a client for a makeup session, and judging all of her princess dresses while she was making him a haul.

No matter how angry you were that he showed up like that and decided to stay, you couldn't deny the fact that he was damn good, that in the moment, you couldn't find any reason not to like him, even when he caught you spying on them and sent you a smirk to remember that you had no control.

you had decided to do some cleaning, to leave them both for a bit until the end of the day. after a long moment, rafe decided to leave her alone for a bit.

you were downstairs, and you were making food. he raised an eyebrow when he saw you. “don’t forget me.”

“no I’m sorry, I’m cooking for two and you’re not included in it.”

“I was included in this pussy to make you a baby so you can include me in this meal for one night, baby. ‘s nothing. ” he shouted back, chewing some gum arrogantly.

“don’t be trashy.”

"you used to like this..." he carefully said, because he knew he was treading on sensitive ground.

he stood in front of you, picking a taste of the ranch sauce from the bowl before putting it in his mouth. you watched him do it, glaring at the smile on his so fucking evil lickable lips.

“ taste's good. ”

“I want you to leave. “

"We should ask every part of your body if they're okay with this. Maybe it would put you back into your place to feel betrayed by your own self. "

“You’re not good for her.” you confessed.

“I am her father. And from what i know, she's very happy with me. You're the one to have a problem with my presence here. ”

"Please, leave the house. I don't want to call the police."

“exactly, baby.” he moved to stand behind you, rearranging a strand of your hair, his breath hot on the back of your neck. “you don’t want to do it. And you're not forced to do it…” he caressed your hand, slowly putting the knife away from your fingers.

“Step back.”

"I want to stay here tonight. Just this night. She really wants me to stay and would it be cruel to make her sad? You don't want to be the villain, right ? "

“don’t try to manipulate me.”

" mmh, just telling the truth and it makes you mad. you can hate me if you want but she needs me. i'm her dad and you know if I wanted to, I could make her come with me but I love seeing you together. you're a great mom.”

"you will sleep on the couch. and that is non-negotiable. you don't try anything with me, is that okay?"

“Come on, we can sleep together. We are mature and consenting adults.” he replied. "There's nothing I haven't seen before, baby. I know all that lingerie as well as that body hidden behind it."

“about that, stop stalking my bills.”

"Mine , baby. you mean, my bills. these are my cards that you use for your pleasures so I have the right to have an eye on them. even more so when I receive bills for sex toys. you should call me instead of handling it? yourself.”

"After trying them, I'm not sure that you're big enough now. “

jesus, you knew how to provoke him and it worked. he had sniffed the air loudly, trying to contain himself because honestly, he only wanted one thing at the moment, a strong urge that was to fuck you dirty on that counter until he was sure to see your hole tearing to death and dripping to get his cock in. jesus, yeah, he would give anything to see you grimace because it will never fit in but prove you wrong by giving you a second baby.

his jaw was tense and his nostrils were flared. he was forced to clench his fist to avoid touching you. " the day when your babygirl will want a little sister or brother, you better be begging on all fours on my fucking doorstep to convince me to give you another baby. so better to start now and stretch that hole very hard before it's happening because i'm gonna make sure to be breeding you enough to change your whole dna. ”

“ aren't you tired of thr…”

“mom, dad, what are you talking about?” the little girl burst into the kitchen, still with her tiara on her head. a smile appeared when she saw that her dad was still there. because it was rare for him to stay that late.

you warned rafe with your eyes, slashing violently at pieces of vegetables with the knife back in your hand.

“ we were thinking that i could stay tonight. what's your thoughts on this, little one ? want daddy to stay ? ”

“ yes ! i don't want you to leave. stay foreveeeer with me. ”

“ but you know, he can't. he's a businessman. ” you replied.

“ what do you mean, baby ? my only business is right here. ”

” Rafe. ” you said.

“ Baby ? ” he replied with a cocky smile. “ Why don't you tell us what you're cooking ? Seems delicious. Maybe we could get a taste. ”

“ Sweetie, can you go to your room for a second ? I need to talk with your dad. It's not gonna be long. ”

She pouted but agreed after Rafe promised her something if she was listening to her mom.

“you know you can’t stay. "

"All I know is that there is my name in the papers of this house, on your bills, and even on your documents. If I can't stay, you can't escape. So what's better ? ”

[toxicanonymity]

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ AU where Billy lives and is acquitted of the murders. He's now your sleazy landlord. Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom Billy vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay. 

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good. 

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up. 

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway. 

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it. 

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry. 

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the  pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together. 

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs. 

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad. 

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed? 

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans. 

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle. 

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other. 

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips. 

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?”  Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?”  Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately.  “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer. 

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes. 

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars. 

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips. 

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep. 

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state. 

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.” 

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest. 

“I’ll bet.”  He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains. 

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment. 

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.” 

He squats down and grabs you by the arm. 

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips. 

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.” 

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort. 

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest. 

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob. 

“There ya go.” 

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way. 

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.” 

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.” 

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders. 

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?” 

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.” 

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn. 

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you. 

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in. 

Full body goosebumps. 

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then  your mouth. 

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.” 

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face. 

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move. 

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.” 

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants. 

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.  

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️

[sixtsposts]

Halloween Party - Bucky Barnes

TW: sexy bunny, Bucky turned on, zootopia costumes, kind of grumpy x sunshine?

"No", Bucky's voice is serious and his eyes stay stuck on his motorcycle that he's fixing.

"But why?" You whine. "It'll be super fun," you insist, looking down at Bucky's crouch form.

You had tried to convince your boyfriend to come with you at the Avengers' Halloween party all day. But it seems like he really despise dressing up.

"I said no," he repeats and sigh loudly.

Bucky put his wrench on the floor and gets up, wiping his hands on a cloth you had brought him.

"I don't know why you're being so stubborn about it Buck, it's just a party with our friends," you roll your eyes.

He takes a step toward you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth now as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"Because I refuse to be dressed up as a dog, doll. This is not happening," he chuckles.

You frown your eyebrows and get closer to him, "This is not a dog, it's a fox and his name is Nick."

You wanted for you and Bucky to be dressed as the characters from Zootopia, Judy and Nick. Though Bucky didn't seem to be very fond of this idea.

"Yeah well I'm not putting any tail, doll," he raise his eyebrows, seriously.

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms, mimicking his gesture. "You're no fun Sergeant," you make a fake pout, trying to convince him.

"And you're being a brat," he scoffs as he return to work on his bike. You sigh and leave the parking, trying to figure out a way to make Bucky dress up with you.

Later in the day you were in your shared bedroom, fixing your costume as Bucky enter the room. You're in front of your full size mirror, adjusting your bunny ears headband. Bucky smirks when he sees you and he walk to you, hugging you from behind. You hum when he burries his face in the crook of your neck. You pass your hand in his hair, softly ruffling them.

"Doll, I don't know what I prefer between seeing you dressed as a police officer or as a bunny," he mumble against your skin before living a kiss on your throat.

You giggle softly and bite your lips. "I need to finish to get dressed Buck," you huff when he growls and let you go reluctantly.

"So you're going to that party, huh?" He asks with a raise eyebrows.

"Course I am," you reply as you turn to look at him. "I don't need you to do everything baby," you add with a smirk as you go to the bathroom.

"But there's no fox to your bunny, doll," he says as he follows you into the bathroom.

"Actually," you begin with a fake innocence, "Peter has agreed to match my costume," you smile without looking at Bucky.

Though you can feel him tense at your words, Bucky is very jealous and he assume it totally.

"Peter, huh?" He says with a low voice as he appears behind you in the bathroom's mirror.

Bucky's staring at you in the mirror with dark eyes as you put on your make up. You glance at him with fake innocent eyes.

"Yeah Peter, why?" You ask him with doe-eyes.

"Peter..." Bucky repeat with a low voice, looking around him as he pass a hand through his hair. He nods his head, "Peter," he said again before leaving the room quikly with a determined look.

You finish your make up with a grin on your face, knowing that you had finally found your date for tonight's party.

You therefore spend the night at the arm of your fox boyfriend and, despite Sam jokes about his ears and tail, Bucky got through the night a wide smile on his face. He can't help it, he's just so fond of you. Especially when you're dressed as a rabbit police officer.

"Y'know I could get us to those," he grins at you as he brush his fingers over one of your fake bunny ear.

"Yeah?" You give him a kiss, "Well maybe I could use them a little longer tonight..." you whisper in his ear with a teaseful smile a lustful look.

Bucky wet his lips and caught a little, trying to compose himself. "Yeah well, I'm feeling a little tired already. What about going back to the room now, huh?" He tells you as he tugs your hand.

"As you wish Sergeant."

You hush a chuckle as you follow him through the crowd of people.

[pedroscowgirl]

Unfinished Business

Aaron hotchner x fem!reader

Fluff/Angst (?)

Masterlist

Summary: Years after a brief romance with Aaron Hotchner, you’re raising your son, Noah, without telling Aaron about him. When Aaron returns on a case with Rossi, he discovers Noah and realizes the truth.

wc: 2.4k

A/n: I want a child with this man so badly, you don't understand. Also Haley exists in this universe but there was no infidelity going on cuz they were already divorced

As you opened the door, the familiar figure of Aaron Hotchner took your breath away, just as he had the very first time you’d met him years ago. He stood there, stoic and intense, dressed in his crisp suit, his FBI badge clipped neatly to his waistband. Beside him was Agent David Rossi, who offered you a warm, knowing smile. Your heart fluttered despite the years and the reasons you’d had for staying away. Aaron’s presence had a way of grounding you and scattering your thoughts all at once.

“It’s good to see you, Aaron,” you managed to say, your smile a bit hesitant as your eyes met his. It was surreal to see him here, standing on your doorstep, knowing what you knew—knowing you shared a bond far deeper than anyone else in the room could understand. He nodded, his face softening for a moment, but only slightly. Aaron wasn’t one to let his emotions slip easily, especially when he was on duty.

The memories hit you like a wave. Years ago, during a particularly intense case, one night of letting your guard down, of allowing yourself to forget the pain of your own past, had led to a night that changed everything. You and Aaron had been working late, tracking leads that kept twisting into dead ends. He’d looked exhausted, and there was a sadness in his eyes that he never quite allowed to reach the surface. And you, needing comfort just as much, found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t expected.

That night left you with more than just memories—it had given you Noah, your beautiful son who had his father’s deep, piercing eyes. But fear had silenced you. Aaron’s life was complicated, even dangerous, especially after the tragic loss of his ex-wife, Haley. You had no doubt that he would’ve done anything to protect you and Noah, but you’d chosen silence, unable to bring yourself to risk it. You couldn’t imagine Aaron’s pain if he lost another family.

Now, he was here, with Rossi, to question your older son, Matt, who’d witnessed something related to their latest case. Matt’s father was out of the picture, and you’d raised him on your own before Aaron ever came into your life. He was old enough now to understand the importance of keeping quiet, of paying attention, but his heart was still innocent. You could see him from where you stood, a bit nervous but doing his best to remain calm under the weight of Aaron’s questions.

Rossi lingered near you, watching the exchange from a distance, and his eyes softened as he turned to you. “It’s been a long time, huh?” he asked, his voice kind, carrying that subtle warmth you’d always associated with him. It was almost as if he’d known, all along, about the connection you shared with Aaron.

You nodded, your gaze drifting back to where Aaron was crouched, speaking to Matt with a gentleness that made your heart ache. “Yes,” you replied softly. “It’s… nice seeing you two again. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

Rossi gave a knowing smile, nodding slightly. There was something in his gaze that hinted he was piecing things together in a way only he could. He didn’t know what you and Aaron had shared, not fully, but he had always sensed something—an unspoken bond.

When Aaron finished with Matt, he stood, thanking him before walking back to join you and Rossi in the hallway. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said, his voice formal but kind as he glanced between you and Matt. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

You managed a smile, and Aaron held your gaze just a little longer than necessary before turning to look around the room. You felt his eyes moving over the walls, the hallways, and there was a pang of anxiety in your chest as he seemed to study every detail.

“Would you mind if we take a look around?” he asked, his tone polite yet firm.

You swallowed, pushing down the spike of fear. “Of course,” you said with a nod. “Whatever you need.”

As Aaron moved through the house, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. In one of the bedrooms, down the hall, Noah was playing quietly. You hadn’t told him about Aaron—he was too young to understand the complexities of adult life, of secrets and choices made out of love and fear. You hadn’t planned to introduce them, and yet you found yourself in a situation that you hadn’t anticipated.

Aaron’s footsteps echoed as he moved room by room, a meticulous investigator at heart. You heard a slight creak, then a soft thump coming from Noah’s room, followed by a small giggle. The sound made you freeze, and you forced yourself to stay calm.

Aaron stopped just outside the door, turning back to you with a furrowed brow. “Is someone in there?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, struggling to come up with an excuse. “It’s probably just… the cat,” you said quickly, even though you knew he’d never buy it.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he stepped closer to you. He was so close you could feel his breath, the familiar warmth of his presence stirring feelings you’d tried to bury long ago.

“Mind if I take a look?” His voice was soft but insistent.

You hesitated, then gave a small nod, stepping aside as he reached for the door. Your heart pounded as he opened it, revealing Noah, sitting on the floor, surrounded by his toys. Your little boy looked up with a bright, innocent smile as he saw you.

“Hi, Mommy!” he chirped, scrambling to his feet to give you a hug. You hugged him back, feeling the warmth of his tiny arms, knowing that this moment was one you couldn’t control anymore.

Noah then turned his attention to Aaron, studying him with the same thoughtful curiosity that Aaron often had when he observed a room. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing at Aaron, his wide eyes brimming with interest.

You glanced between Aaron and Noah, forcing a smile. “He’s a real-life FBI agent, sweetie. Isn’t that so cool?”

Noah’s face lit up, excitement bubbling over. “That’s awesome! I love FBI agents, they’re the best!”

You swallowed, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness as you watched Aaron’s expression soften, his gaze fixed on Noah. Aaron knelt down, reaching Noah’s eye level, and smiled gently. “Hey, buddy. I need to talk to your mom for a second, okay? We’ll be right back”

Noah nodded eagerly, distracted by his toys as he plopped back down on the floor. You led Aaron out of the room and as the door clicked shut behind you, an intense silence filled the hallway. You turned to face Aaron, nerves twisting in your stomach as you took in the look on his face. He seemed almost haunted, his eyes searching yours, his expression tight with emotions he rarely let surface.

“How old is he?” Aaron asked again, voice barely above a whisper. There was a heaviness in his words, a weight that seemed to settle over both of you. You swallowed, feeling the enormity of this moment crashing down on you.

“He’s seven,” you admitted softly, your voice thick. There was no point in hiding it anymore. You could see that Aaron had already pieced it together, every detail you’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. When he opened them again, they were filled with an ache that went straight to your heart. “You know better than to lie to me,” he murmured, a faint edge of hurt in his tone, though his words carried more sadness than reproach.

You felt your heart sink, realizing just how deeply you had wounded him. He took a step closer, his tall frame filling your vision, and lifted a hand to your chin, his fingers gentle as he tilted your face up toward him. “Is he mine?”

It was a simple question, but you could feel the years of unspoken words, hidden fears, and bottled-up emotions woven into it. He wasn’t just asking about Noah, he was asking about everything you’d kept from him, every quiet decision you’d made, alone, to shield him from this truth. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a rare and fragile openness that you knew he didn’t offer easily.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely audible, yet heavy with the truth. “He’s yours, Aaron.” The relief of finally saying it out loud, of finally sharing this secret, was immediate and overwhelming.

Aaron’s gaze dropped, his shoulders sinking under the weight of the revelation. He took a steadying breath, his jaw clenched as he struggled to compose himself. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was soft, carrying a trace of hurt that you couldn’t ignore. “I had a right to know. I had a right to be a part of his life… of your life.”

The words cracked something open inside you, bringing a wave of regret that left your chest feeling tight. “I know, Aaron. I know,” you whispered, looking down. “I was scared… After what happened with Haley, I just—I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Or losing you. I thought… I thought if I kept quiet, it would be safer. For both of us.”

Aaron’s face softened, his gaze growing distant as he absorbed your words. He was silent for a long moment, as though he was processing every choice, every decision you’d made, the sacrifices you’d shouldered in silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I understand why you were afraid. But that was my choice to make too. He’s my son… I wanted to be there for him. For both of you.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him. His words were so tender, filled with a sorrow that cut straight through you. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word, that the years he’d missed with Noah weighed heavily on him.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… I was protecting him.”

Aaron’s hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down. The touch was achingly tender, his gaze filled with a depth of understanding you hadn’t expected. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet brimming with a fierce determination.

His words hung in the air, offering a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed. You felt a rush of relief, of gratitude, mingling with the regret that still lingered. “Aaron, I… I don’t know what to say.”

He shook his head, giving you a faint, bittersweet smile. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… let me be a part of his life. Of your life. I don’t want to miss anything else.”

A flood of emotions washed over you—hope, relief, and something you hadn’t dared to feel in years. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, and squeezed it tightly, grounding yourself in the warmth of his touch.

“You’re welcome in his life, Aaron. Always,” you said softly, your voice filled with a promise.

And with a deep breath, you and Aaron walked back into the room where Noah was, sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing quietly. He looked up, his face lighting up as he saw you both walk in. Aaron took a step forward, crouching down to be eye-level with him, and your heart raced in anticipation, knowing what he was about to say.

“Noah,” Aaron began, his voice soft and steady. He glanced at you for reassurance, then continued, “I want to tell you something important.” He paused, his gaze holding Noah’s with a mix of warmth and vulnerability that made your chest tighten. “I’m not just an FBI agent… I’m also your dad.”

Noah’s eyes widened in surprise, blinking as he processed Aaron’s words. You could see the wonder and a spark of happiness glimmer in his expression, his small face filled with curiosity. “You’re… my dad?” he repeated, a hint of awe in his voice.

Aaron nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched Noah’s reaction. “Yes, buddy. And you know what? You have a big brother, too. His name is Jack, and he’s going to be so excited to meet you. I know you two will be great friends.”

A slow, happy smile broke across Noah’s face, and without hesitation, he reached out to hug Aaron. Aaron’s face softened even more as he wrapped his arms around Noah, pulling him close. In one smooth motion, he lifted Noah into his arms, holding him as if he’d been waiting to do so for years. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, your heart swelling as you watched this long-awaited connection unfold before you.

Aaron looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love as he held Noah. He took a few steps closer to you, and, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was warm and full of unspoken promises, his free hand resting gently at your waist while Noah nestled comfortably in his arms. Your hand drifted up to his hair, fingers tangling softly as you deepened the kiss, savouring the feeling of being this close to him.

When you pulled back, both of you were smiling, a new warmth shared between you. As Aaron held Noah, still beaming, you felt as if a missing piece had been found, and in that moment, you truly looked like a family.

A soft sound from the doorway caught your attention. There stood Rossi, his arms folded and a knowing smile on his face as he took in the scene. He gave you both a small nod, his gaze filled with warmth and approval.

“I knew you two had something going on.” Rossi remarked with a grin, his voice laced with affection.

You shared a laugh, the moment filled with happiness, the weight of the years you’d spent apart finally lifting. There was still healing to be done, and wounds to mend, but for now, the three of you were together. The future felt promising, and with Aaron and Noah by your side, you felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch @gamingfeline @rousethemouse

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[stunie]

OASIS IN SPACE! — sfw ﾉ first time meeting ﾉ umemiya hajime x shy!f!reader ﾉ entry for @interstellar-inn’s help wanted collab ^ ^ <3

Taking the ticketing position at your local planetarium seemed like a good idea until you found out you’d be thrown into your first shift with essentially zero training. Your only chance at having anything remotely close to a successful first day is to swallow your nerves and just ask the 6’2 usher for some help!

“Excuse me… is this where we scan tickets?”

If the man you’re trying to talk to hears you, he doesn’t respond. You clear your throat— as quietly as you can to avoid disrupting what you assume is the planetarium show’s usher crouched down in front of you.

He looks pretty from behind, and it takes a forced blink or two to stop staring at the way the muscles of his back bulge against his shirt with each little movement he makes.

You think he looks around your age too.

The way his body also blocks the only entrance to the planetarium— which is where you think you’d probably need to be— doesn’t really help your situation much either.

“Um…” you hesitate a bit, heartbeat suddenly much louder in your head when you try and muster all the courage inside you to lightly poke his shoulder— except he doesn’t seem to notice that either.

There’s a moment of silence that feels much longer in your head before you’re suddenly jolting back when the sound of his gasp reaches you. “I love this song!” You hear him say to himself before he starts humming a cheerful tune, head nodding up and down as he goes back to work, rummaging through the box in front of him.

He hasn’t even acknowledged you yet, and you already felt like you were a bother. A part of you wishes you had just begged your boss for clearer instructions earlier, but it was too late for that now.

“Excuse me…” You try and raise your voice and jab your finger a little harder into his shoulder this time, and he finally gasps. Loudly. The sound of his voice has you stumbling back a couple steps, the back of your hand flying to cover your mouth, and you feel no different from a deer caught in headlights.

“Eh?!” He’s jerking upright before he turns to look at you, and you’re frozen in place. “You scared me! How long have you been there?” He starts laughing, “You’d do pretty good in a ghost movie, huh? What a skill to have.”

Your first thought is that his eyes look kind.

Your second thought was that your day wasn’t as unlucky as you thought. Umemiya Hajime— you later learned that this was his name— was more than happy to lead you to your table while going over what the other ticketing hires usually did for shifts like these.

It sounded simple enough in your head. Just point your scanner at the tickets and welcome the visitors, right?

He stays by your side the entire time, and you’re too focused on making sure your voice comes out loud enough that you miss the way his eyes soften each time you greet a visitor, lips tugging into a small smile. You were just way too cute like that.

The shift seems to fly by once you get the hang of the angle you need to point the scanner at, and you start catching onto just how many times the two of you seemed to make eye contact within the last few minutes. Each one has your cheeks heating up a little more than the last, and you’re sure he notices from the way his eyes linger on you even after you turn away.

You reach your breaking point when your scanner flashes red at the last guest, “error!” displayed across the entire screen, and you can practically feel the sweat forming on your temples. Why wouldn’t this one read?

Of course it was the last guest in line too.

Your mind starts to race as you stand up to get a better look their ticket, the person in front of you furrowing their eyes a bit at your obvious confusion. You’re only a second away from mumbling a string of apologies before you feel Umemiya’s chest suddenly press against your back, strong hands caging you against the table as he takes a look at his ticket for you.

If you weren’t feeling hot before, you were now.

“Ah! You’re showing the receipt, sir. There’s a second ticket you have with the scannable part.”

He laughs when the guest starts chuckling sheepishly, but he doesn’t miss the way you awkwardly chuckle and fiddle with the device. It’s okay, he thinks, you wouldn’t have known that on your first shift anyway.

You stiffen as soon as you feel his hand wrapping over the one you’re using to hold the scanner, easily enveloping your own as he raises it up to try again, and you briefly wonder if the darkness in the room is enough to hide the expression you’ve got on your face.

The remaining bit of your shift goes smoothly at least, minus the way you’ve been doing everything in your power to avoid making eye contact with Umemiya again. You can feel him still smiling at you, probably oblivious to the events of earlier, and that makes it even worse.

“We should watch the planetarium show together!”

The way you immediately perk up is enough of an answer for him. “Mhm,” He’s answering the question that pops up in your head, “They’ll let us. Though… they usually want you to stay here a few minutes into the show to wait for the latecomers.”

The way your lips puff out into a pout is just too cute.

“Don’t worry— hey, don’t frown like that. I was planning on saving you a seat, so look for me when you come in, okay? I have white hair!” He points to his head with a big grin.

“…I know you have white hair.” You plop back into your seat with a huff, turning away from him to hide the heat flooding back into your cheeks. His smile just.. does that to you. Watching an entire show beside him seemed a little too good to be true too.

Maybe you did feel a little giddy about it.

Your eyes widen as soon as you feel his hand land on your head, patting you a couple of times with a loud laugh and a “See you there, yeah?” before he leaves you all alone in the lobby, your ears smoking with heat and heart now thumping loudly against your ribcage.

[et6rnalsun]

“it’s not cheating if i don’t put it in” he breathed out, his hands resting on your hips with enough force to definitely leave marks on them. you reluctantly looked up at him, and he couldn’t stay still for a second longer after noticing the way you were observing him — deciding to test the waters, in one swift motion he had you straddling his lap, lifting you up as if you weighed absolutely nothing. and from that position you could feel his bulge perfectly, begging for some attention.

you always had that effect on patrick. since your first meeting he couldn't stop looking at you. your curves that looked so right, your fucking habit of dressing in clothes that were way too short and skimpy to count all that, tops that had your breasts pushed up and pressed against the fabric because of how ‘big’ they were. your attentive eyes always glanced at him with challenge just ‘cause you knew that he was lusting for you. damn if you knew. and you never agreed to anything he wanted to, knowing he was dating tashi. you weren't a whore, were you?

“pat…” you shook your head, placing your hands on his arms to stop whatever kind of motion he wanted to create, manicured nails digging into his skin. "shh" patrick silenced you with that little sound that came out of his parted lips, his hips lifting up slightly to meet yours, groaning immediately when he felt the fabric of your panties, from under your skirt, touch the one of his shorts. "c'mon, pretty, do it f'me" he was so worked up.

you wanted to argue, say something to show that you were against all that illicitness of his desires (even if you weren't completely), but his large hands moving roughly on your ass made you shut up immediately, feeling how he urged you to move on him. his head fell back against the headboard when he started pushing and pulling your hips back and forth against him, making you bit your lower lip hard at the way his bulge felt against your covered cunt. “i know y’like it, oh i know”

your hands moved to his shoulders to hold you up a little, and you tried in every way to hold back even if a moan escaped your lips when your clit bumped right on the head of his cock. “god” you murmured, starting to roll your hips to meet his movements almost in a needy way. you were so fucking beautiful in that moment, and he couldn't help but be proud of himself for finally getting a glimpse of you as a complete mess. his eyes dropped down to where your bodies met, and he raised an eyebrow with a little playful whistle when he noticed how the evidence of your arousal had started to stain a wet patch on his shorts.

he lifted your skirt all the way up, making it rest almost above your hips just to watch the way your panties got wetter and wetter, a sight that made his cock jump. he could feel the way you started to move faster against him, probably needing to increase that delicious friction of his cock rubbing against you — the head stimulating your now aching clit. “already close?” your head felt dizzy at his question and your only response was a simple moan followed by a nod of your head. "good, thats good" he praised, wanting to see you reach the peak.

your body shuddered and he knew you were there. the orgasm hit you while you whimpered against him, legs shaking and pussy clenching around nothing. a sight so beautiful that he’ll probably jerk off for days just thinking about it.

[flowerfreya]

Repercussions

The next part in the office AU

Masterlist

Content: Readers ex boyfriend tries to win her back( does not go well ) and then she discovers she has a crush on all four of them *gasp*

Pairing : poly!141 x reader

If have any thing you want to see from this group of people, please let me know. Lowkey running out of ideas lol

Price, Soap, and Ghost stand in front of the room where you were just taken. “She’s just trying to get attention”, he shifts his gaze to Price, “You know what I mean?”, he raises his eyebrows in a know what I mean motion. 

Price is not amused ,“No, I don't know what you mean”.

“Maybe you need to take a walk”, Soap says. He tries to guide him to entrance but your ex is  a glutton for punishment. 

“No,she a bitch, she used me as a gold digger”,he spits out, waving his arms and yelling and honestly embarrassing himself. 

“Mate, you need gold in order for that to happen”, Simon is trying to move him away from the door but he is very persistent. 

“You take another step it will be your last in this building” 

He slowly turns around, “You can’t do that, there's a process”, he smirks, thinking that he’s won. 

“Oh I know the process, we have been doing the process”, he lists all the things that your ex-boyfriend has been doing or in this case, not doing. 

Price has always had a problem with your ex boyfriend, they hired him on a whim and they needed a body. They had hoped that he would have no call , no show and they could help him but alas , he very very sadly persisted. He started fucking up almost four months ago, showing up late leaving early , taking long lunches. Price had finally found his in. He’s been putting in the work with Kyle to fire him, that when he brought you in for an interview. 

Price knew that men like him , took out his frustration on the women in his life because that's just the man he is. So he put a pause on it, you didn’t deserve that. When he got that call from Simon that you had called asking for help he knew that it was a sign.

~ 

Your ex is still moaning and bitching about you, then he says something that makes you not care. 

“Oh shut the fuck up” , you yell at him and walking out the backroom. He’s shocked that you responded, you're usually very passive in this , thinking it’s easy to agree then to argue. He starts stuttering, not used to this from you. 

“Uh -u -u -u” , you mock him. You get close to him so tired of just taking it. You’re so done with him. 

“Nothing to say?” , you ask him. He looks around like one of your guys are going to help but he finds none. 

“Can you do me favor and just fucking go?” ,you're so pissed that you let yourself get to this level, this sad sad place, where knowing that you need better, that you deserve better but just staying. Settling. 

He tries to change tactics with you, “Baby, please you know that I’m sorry, I messed up please forgive me”, he gets tears in the corner of his eyes. 

You scoff, “You know you caused this , you decided to leave me here and be a jerk when I asked you to pick me up”, you pause and wait for him to respond and he has nothing to say. 

“We are done, over, never getting back together, wrap your brain around that”. 

He tries to say something else but John cuts him off and leads( pushes) him toward the exit. 

Once he’s out the door, you kind of deflate when you no longer see him. Kye places his hand on your shoulder, “Alright?”, you want to go home and curl into a ball and drink dessert wine still your stomach hurts. 

“Can I go home?”, you don’t make eye contact with him even though you know that he is trying to connect with you. You can’t do life today and being with all of them today is going to be too much. You are single for the first time in a very long time and you have a crush on your boss ... .and coworker ... .and your other coworker… and your HR rep. How do you go from hating your only romantic partner to having a crush on four people? 

[daisymbin]

what kind of future? - jeon wonwoo

warnings: alcohol mention, ANGST!!!! happy ending though so all is well

pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: exes to lovers

wc: 2.3k

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

“why did you block me?” your voice comes out small, muffled through the lump in your throat as you stand in front of wonwoo’s front door. It’s saturday night, and you’re clutching plastic bags filled with takeout boxes of all his favorites, the familiar smell of the food wafting into the cold air between you. you’ve been worried sick all week, desperate to understand why he cut you out so suddenly, and tonight, after a week of silence from him, you couldn’t wait any longer.

wonwoo stares back at you, and even in the dim glow of the porch light, you can see how exhausted he looks. his eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with that drunken haze you recognize from nights out together with friends & also from dates. you can smell the faint alcohol on him, and he’s swaying slightly in the doorway, unsteady but painfully familiar. his dark hair is tousled, and he’s wearing an oversized hoodie and sweats, looking every bit as vulnerable as you feel.

he doesn’t answer you. not at first. instead, he laughs, the sound broken and empty, and leans his shoulder against the door frame. “so now you care?” he slurs, voice cracking around the edges. “you care now that i’m a mess, huh?”

you step closer, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “wonwoo, i’ve always cared,” you argue softly, voice trembling. “what happened? why did you block me? did i do something wrong?”

he laughs again, bitter and self-deprecating, before slumping down, sliding his back against the door frame until he’s sitting on the ground. his long legs stretch out in front of him, and he rubs his hands over his face, as if he can’t stand to look at you.

you crouch down beside him, setting the takeout bags aside. “wonwoo,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away, and the movement cuts deeper than you thought possible.

“i blocked you because i’m tired,” he mutters, voice thick with more than just alcohol. “tired of wanting something i can’t have. tired of pretending. i thought... maybe if i just erased you from my life, i could move on.” he looks up then, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and your heart breaks at the sight. “but it didn’t work. nothing works. not even drinking until i can’t feel anything.” another bitter laugh left his dry, chapped lips.

you’re stunned, your mind spinning, but part of you understands. it’s a pain you know all too well, a familiar ache that never quite faded. “wonwoo-ah,” you whisper, the name heavy on your tongue, full of memories you’d buried after you two broke up. “we both tried moving on, didn’t we?” the words hang between you, a painful truth neither of you ever wanted to address.

wonwoo looks up at you, the bitterness softening into something achingly vulnerable. “we did,” he admits, voice cracking. “but no matter how many times i tried to convince myself i was over you, no matter how hard i fought to just be friends... i couldn’t. i just can't.” he runs a shaky hand through his hair, his tears slipping down his cheeks. “god, do you know how bad it hurts?”

you feel your own tears spill over, remembering how hard it was when you broke up, how you both decided to try and stay friends for the sake of the boys, you've known them for far too long. “i thought i was doing the right thing,” you whisper, voice trembling. “we both did. but maybe…-”

wonwoo’s eyes search yours, the pain and longing there almost too much to bear. “i don't need you to pity me. if you've moved on, just go-”

“go where exactly wonwoo? who said anything about moving on? do you think i have?” you let out a frustrated sigh.

he cuts you off, throwing his head back with a humorless laugh. “oh, come on,” he says, his voice raising a little, frustration and pain bleeding through. “i saw you. last weekend. with him.”

you blink, confusion clear on your face. “him? who?”

wonwoo clenches his jaw, his hands curling into fists on his lap. “that guy you were laughing with at the café,” he snaps. “you looked... so happy. and he was touching your hand, and you didn’t pull away. i thought...” he trails off, his voice breaking. “i thought you liked him. i thought you were... moving on

the realization hits you like a punch to the gut. you know exactly who he’s talking about; an old friend who had come into town unexpectedly. it was a friendly catch-up, nothing more. you hadn’t even considered that wonwoo would’ve seen it, much less misunderstood it. you reach for him despite his flinch, your fingers trembling. “wonwoo, that wasn’t... that wasn’t what you thought,” you say, tears streaking your cheeks. “he’s just an old friend, nothing more. i didn’t think you... still felt this way about me.”

wonwoo laughs again, but this time it’s full of disbelief, raw and shaky. “felt this way?” he echoes in disbelief, voice heavy with emotion. “i never stopped loving you. i’ve been trying to bury it for months, trying to be okay with just being friends. but it’s killing me. everything about you still drives me crazy.” he pauses, his voice breaking further. “i tried my best to stay strictly friendly with you, just the way you wanted, to keep up with just being friends for your sake, for the sake of our friendship and the boys. but every time i see you, every time i look at you...it takes everything in me to not reach for you, to not touch you, hold you, kiss you. it hurt so damn much to act like it didn’t at all. i really tried to keep my distance, for the sake of our friendship, for the boys...for myself. because i cant afford to lose you completely.. if i ever did…it would kill me.”

your voice wavers, thick with emotion. “i didn’t think you'd still want me anymore. i-i still love you.”

wonwoo looks up at you, hope flickering in his gaze, “you..still love me?”

“yes, i-”

his hopeful eyes were swallowed quickly by disbelief. he shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “no,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “don’t do this. dont do this to me. don’t say things just to make me feel better.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, pain slicing through you as you watch him crumble. “i’m not,” you insist, tears pooling in your own eyes. “wonwoo, you just don’t get it, do you?” your voice breaks, and your hands tremble as you reach for him. “i’ve never stopped loving you. i thought things would be simpler, easier for you if we stayed friends, so i kept my feelings locked up too. but i love you. god, i love you so much that it hurts.”

his breath catches, and his tears fall faster, tracing painful paths down his face. yet still, he doesn't trust himself enough to believe his own 2 ears. “do you know how much it hurts?” he asks, voice barely a whisper. “the thought of losing you completely when you left me…it hurt so bad that I.. i took whatever you were willing to give me, even if its just to be your friend again…I did it even though it killed me inside.” he shudders, the tears slipping down his face. “but seeing you with someone else broke me. i thought i was strong enough, but... god, it hurts so much.”

wonwoo clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, his grip firm but trembling. his eyes closes shut as he whispers, “i don’t want to let go,” voice cracking with every word. “come back to me. i can’t lose you again.” he pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, any sign that this is still a mistake. but all he finds is the same raw, desperate hope reflected in your gaze.

“you won't lose me again,” you promise, fingers brushing against his cheeks, wiping away the tears that keep falling. “i love you, i love you just the same, if not more.”

a broken, relieved laugh spills from his lips, and his eyes shine with an overwhelming mix of emotions. “god, i thought i’d never hear you say that again,” he breathes out, voice full of disbelief. “i was so sure you’d moved on, that you were happier without me.”

“never,” you say, voice cracking. “i thought about you every day, wondered if you were okay, if you were hurting too. and when we tried to be friends, it was like twisting the knife deeper. because i wanted you so badly, but i was too scared to ruin what little we had left.”

wonwoo’s hands move to cradle your face, thumbs brushing over your tear-stained skin. his touch is hesitant, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks. “it was the same for me,” he whispers, voice breaking. “every time i saw you, all i wanted to do was pull you into my arms and never let go. but i kept telling myself i couldn’t, that it wasn’t fair to you or to anyone else. i clenched my jaw and fought so damn hard to keep my hands to myself, to not reach for you. it killed me every single time.”

“we’ve both been hurting for so long,” you say, the weight of everything crashing over you, “let's not hurt anymore.”

his forehead drops to yours again, and his breath mingles with yours, shaky and uneven. “i love you,” he says, voice raw and full of longing. “i’ve loved you through every second of heartbreak, through every moment of pretending. i don’t want to lose you ever again.”

“you won’t,” you repeat, your voice barely a whisper but carrying all the love and hope you’ve held onto. “not this time. we’re both here, and we’re not giving up on each other again.”

he closes the small distance between you, his lips finally pressing against yours, a kiss that’s both desperate and healing. it’s messy, full of unshed tears and broken sobs, but it’s real, so achingly real. his hands tighten around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, it almost feels like he's trying to dominate you, but you know wonwoo better than this; you know he's not trying to dominate you, he just needs to feel every part of you to believe this is really happening.

when you finally pull back, both of you breathless and still crying, he lets out a shaky laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “we’re a mess,” he says, his voice full of warmth despite the tears. “but i’d rather be a mess with you than pretend i’m okay without you.”

you laugh, a real, genuine laugh that comes from the heart, and you nod, resting your head against his chest. “me too.” you whisper, your voice filled with a kind of hope you haven’t felt in a long time.

“will you sleep with me tonight?” wonwoo’s voice is small, almost childlike, and he looks at you as though he’s expecting rejection, his dark eyes wide with worry. he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together. “i don't think i've had a proper night's rest since…that night.”

his gaze drops to the floor, and the silence that follows is heavy, as if he's bracing himself for the worst. he’s so scared that he’s asking for too much, so vulnerable and unsure. he shifts awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. his dark eye circles and pale skin don't go unnoticed by you. “we won't do anything,” he adds quickly, his voice trembling. “i swear. i just… i just want to sleep with you. to feel your heartbeat close, to hold you—” he pauses, clenching his jaw, struggling to put his longing into words as he lets out a breath, “it’s the only way i think i can rest, even just for a little while.”

the way he finishes his plea, the unspoken desperation lacing his words, makes your heart twist painfully in your chest. he’s usually so composed, so steady, but right now he looks as fragile as glass, like one wrong move could shatter him completely.

“wonwoo,” you whisper softly, pulling him closer. his head snaps up, and he looks at you with hopeful yet cautious eyes, like he’s terrified to hope for too much. you reach out, resting your palms against both his cheeks, and he freezes at the warmth of your touch.

“of course,” you say, your voice gentle and soothing, trying to reassure him. “of course we can.” your thumb rubs small, comforting circles over his cheeks, and you give him a soft smile. “i’m here, okay? i’ll stay with you.”

wonwoo’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he lets out a shaky breath, relief washing over his face. his hand tightens around yours, and he looks at you as if you’re his safe place, the only one who can mend the aching void in his chest.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice cracking.

“come on, lets have dinner first.” you say as your hands clung onto his, pulling him up with you, and wonwoo takes a tentative step closer, as though afraid you might disappear if he moves too fast. you don’t, though. you’re right there, just as you promised.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can finally breathe; and he does. tonight, he found the appetite that he's lost for the past few months, he even slept through the night for the first time in months. wonwoo prays that this is the kind of future that lies in front the both of you. he doesn't think he could do it with anyone else if it isn't you.

[thir10th]

under the weather - October writing challenge day 8

summary: you're feeling sick and Emily takes care of you tw: smut, fingering, oral sex, i think that's it a/n: lmk if you liked this one because it kind of took a turn, as always i hope you do and remmeber any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated!

You hate being sick. You really hate it, there's only a few things you hate more in the world than this, and when you're sick even those seem completely unimportant.

You thow away the empty box and open the drawer to get a new one, when Sergio jumps to sit on the couch right next to you, finding the mix of blankets and cushions a little too confortable to pass.

While you scratch the little animal's head you can't help but think that, despite the sneezing, coughing, and generally feeling miserable for the last couple of days, if you got to spend them curled up on Emily’s couch, cocooned in blankets, surrounded by tissues and the remnants of tea cups, and with the best company, maybe sick wasn't so bad after all.

She has been insisting since day one, you wouldn't move from her apartment so she could keep an eye on you until you are all better. She of course has been fussing over you non-stop, which is sweet, but you hate being the sick one. It makes you feel weak and restless.

“I’m fine,” you insist, though your voice is hoarse, and your nose is still red from all the sneezing. “I don’t need to stay home. I can go to work.”

Emily, standing near the door in her work clothes, raises an eyebrow at you like you just told her something absurd. “You’re sneezing every two minutes and can barely breathe through your nose.” She crosses her arms, giving you that look, the one where she’s clearly amused but also worried. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not that bad,” you mutter, pulling the blanket up around your chin. “I’ve worked through worse.”

Emily sighs softly, walking over to you, sitting on the edge of the couch. She leans in, placing a hand on your forehead, her touch gentle and warm. “Sweetheart, you’re burning up. You need to rest.”

You groan, feeling her soft fingers graze your skin. “I hate being sick.”

“I know, baby, I know,” she murmurs, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “But I’m not letting you go anywhere like this.”

You pout, glancing up at her with tired eyes. “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”

Emily’s expression softens, and she leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I have to go into the office for a few hours, but I’ll be back before you know it. You’ll survive without me for a little while.” Her voice is soft, but you can tell she hates leaving you like this.

“Don’t go...” you whisper, wrapping your arms around her waist, trying to pull her closer. “I’ll miss you.”

Emily chuckles, clearly torn between her responsibilities and wanting to stay with you. “You’re being so dramatic,” she teases, kissing your forehead again, lingering a little longer this time. “I’ll only be gone for a few hours, and you’ve got Sergio to keep you company.”

You sigh, reluctantly letting her go. “Fine. But only because I wouldn't want him to feel too lonely"

Your childish pout makes her smile, she stands, smiling down at you, though there’s a flicker of guilt in her eyes. She hates leaving you when you’re not feeling well, but she knows she has to. “Promise me you’ll stay here, okay? Watch some bad reality TV, rest, and don’t overdo it.”

“Promise,” you say, giving her a half-hearted smile. “But only because I know you’ll nag me if I don’t.”

She grins, leaning down for one last kiss. “Exactly. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmur, closing your eyes as she pulls away. “Come back soon.”

Emily walks to the door, glancing back at you one more time with that look, the one that says she hates leaving but knows you’ll be okay. “I will. Rest up, baby.” She blows a kiss at you, and closes the door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

The hours pass slowly. You’re sprawled on the couch, half-watching some ridiculous reality show Emily suggested. Sergio is curled up beside you, purring contentedly, his warmth offering some comfort. But you can’t help but feel restless, the quiet of the apartment making you miss your girlfriend more than usual.

Your mind drifts between the terrible show and the thought of her returning. You sneeze for what feels like the hundredth time and groan, grabbing another tissue. Ugh, being sick sucks.

Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, you hear the sound of keys in the door. Your eyes flutter open, and you sit up, excitement bubbling despite the grogginess.

Emily steps in, still looking as put-together as ever in her work attire, though you can tell she’s been in a rush to get back to you.

“Hey, baby,” she says softly, her face lighting up when she sees you. “How are you feeling?”

Without a second thought, you practically leap off the couch and run into her arms, ignoring the slight dizziness that comes with moving too fast. “You’re back!”

Emily laughs, catching you as you throw your arms around her, pulling her close. “Whoa, easy there. You’re supposed to be resting, remember?”

"You're so bossy! I missed you, I'm sick, I want my girlfriend" you complain, peppering her face with kisses

“I hate being here without you.” you mumble into her shoulder, nuzzling against her neck.

Emily melts a little, hugging you tightly, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Oh, my poor baby,” she coos, her voice soft and full of affection. “I missed you too.” She presses a kiss to your forehead, her lips warm against your feverish skin. “But you should be in bed" she slaps your ass playfully.

Reluctantly, you pull back just enough to look at her. “Can we have dinner first? I’m starving.”

She smiles, brushing her thumb across your cheek. “Lucky for you, I brought soup.”

You grin, letting her go and following her to the kitchen. Emily sets the bag on the counter and pulls out the containers of soup, handing you a bowl. You eat on the couch, the warm soup and the company making you feel better already.

You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on the couch, watching trash tv, snuggled together. Emily caresses your skin, plays with your hair, tries her best to confort you the best way she knows, always touching you in some way.

As the night goes on, you start to feel a bit more energetic. Maybe the rest and soup helped, or maybe it’s just that you’ve missed Emily more than you realized.

You lean in closer, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder. “You know… I think I’m feeling a lot better now,” you whisper, your lips grazing her skin.

Emily glances at you, raising an eyebrow. “Oh really?” she says, amusement in her voice. “You were sneezing all over the place a few hours ago.”

You shrug, snuggling into her, your hand resting on her thigh. “I’m serious. I feel fine. Totally fine. And maybe we could... you know... do something other than watch TV?” You reach for the place where her shirt falls, leaving her shoulder's skin uncovered and kiss it, trace her with your lips.

Emily chuckles, her fingers playing with your hair. “Oh, I see what this is about.”

You grin, moving to kiss her neck. “Come on, I’m fine. I promise.”

She bites her lip, trying to stay firm, but you can see her resolve weakening. “You’re still sick, baby. You need to rest.”

“I’ll feel even better if we... you know.” You kiss her again, a little more insistently this time, your hand trailing up her side.

Emily sighs, clearly torn. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You love me,” you say, grinning as you kiss her cheek, then her jaw, trailing your lips down her neck.

She groans, laughing softly as she gently pushes you back. “I do love you, but I’m not letting you make yourself worse just because you’re feeling a little better.”

You pout, grabbing her arm, pulling her closer. “Emily, come on. I’m fine.”

She narrows her eyes playfully. “You’re still sick, and I don’t want to make it worse.” She gives you a teasing smile, gently pinning you down onto the couch. “You need to rest.”

You giggle, trying to wriggle free, but she holds you in place. “I don’t want to rest! I want you.” she lets out a giggle "c'mon woman, just take me!" she full on chuckles now, you kiss her cheek, the corner of her mouth, her lips, but she stands, trying her best to get away from temptation.

You sit up, pouting, but there’s a mischievous gleam in your eyes. “Come on, I’m not contagious anymore,” you insist, holding out your hand for her to come back. “I swear!”

Emily laughs, backing toward the door as if she’s trying to escape. “Yeah, that’s what they all say,” she teases, “and then next thing you know, I’m sneezing, coughing, and downing cold medicine like it’s candy.”

You can’t help but laugh at how dramatically she’s playing along. “Emilyyyy, I’m totally fine! I promise.”

“Nope, not falling for it,” she says with a wink, trying to sound serious but clearly enjoying herself. “I don’t fuck with the infected.”

You crawl toward the edge of the couch, pretending to make a grab for her, and she squeals, running around the coffee table like you’re some kind of zombie about to infect her. “Get back here!” you laugh, trying to catch her as she dodges your reach.

Emily gives a mock gasp. “Stay back, germ monster! You’ll have to try harder than that!”

But after a few more moments of running around, Emily finally gives in, letting you catch her by the waist. She giggles as you pull her back onto the couch with you, both of you laughing as you collapse into a pile of limbs.

“I’m serious though,” you murmur, pressing your lips to her neck. “I’m fine now...”

Emily looks down at you, smirking. “Mm-hmm. We’ll see about that,” she says, still half-teasing but clearly weakening to your advances as your kisses grow more insistent.

But she stands up again, taking your hand, kissing your forehead again. “We’re going to bed, okay? Tomorrow we'll see about that, but I want you to rest today” she says, her voice soft but firm. “For me?”

You huff dramatically, but you can’t help but smile. “Fine. For you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

1.30 am, or so the bedside table clock says. You keep shifting, but it's useless, you're hot and bothered, and still restless from your cold, but that's long forgotten. Emily's chest moves with her slow breathing beside you.

Trying not to wake her up, you slowly get up from bed and go to the kitchen to find something you can kill some time with.

It's only been 5 minutes when Emily wakes up to find you missing from the bed. Frowning, she slips out from under the covers and pads into the kitchen, where she finds you sitting at the table, Sergio perched on your lap.

“Can’t sleep?” Emily asks softly, her voice still husky from sleep.

You look up at her, giving her a sheepish smile. “I’m fine,” you say. “I just... couldn’t get comfortable.”

Emily sighs, walking over to you. “You’re still sick, you know.”

You grin mischievously, leaning back in the chair. "Yes, but you know what they say"

She smiles, stepping closer to you "That you should always listen to your girlfriend when she tells you to stay in bed?" she jokes, but your answer comes fast enough.

"No silly, that the best way to put someone to sleep is an orgasm by the best girlfriend in the world"

Emily’s eyes widen in surprise, but then she smirks, crossing her arms. “You’re unbelievable.”

She pauses for a moment, considering, before her smirk softens into a warm smile. “Alright. Come on, troublemaker.”

She takes your hand and leads you back to the bedroom. You jump happily and grab her waist from behind trying to get her as close to you as you possibly can.

Once under the covers, you lean in, kissing her deeply, your hands wandering up her back. Emily kisses you back, her touch gentle, her lips soft against yours as the heat builds between you.

Her mouth feels hot and heavy against yours, all lips and teeth, she makes your breath hitch.

She lifts your sleeping shirt slowly to find your breasts, braking the kiss to pay some attention to your chest. She takes her nipple in her mouth, playing with it with the tip of her tongue. Sucking on it. And then the other so it's not jealous.

A soft moan escapes your lips when she frees your nipple with a gently tug, and her lips are back on yours again.

"We have to get those sweatpants off of you," she murmurs inbetween kisses.

Emily pushes them down and you kick them behind, easing herself back down onto you. She moves her tongue along your neck then sucks on a sensitive pulse point, making you moan.

Her hand working south to reach your centre, she works fast and easy moving her fingers slowly along your slit.

She grazes a finger over your clitoris and you bite her lip in surprise, she lets out a whimper that you swallow immediately, the kiss so heavy you might combust.

Your breathing accelerates when Emily increased the speed of her hand as it worked the swollen bundle of nerves. You let out a desperate moan when she places her fingers just outside your opening, taunting and stroking your nether lips. "Don't tease me," you whine,  raising your hips in a desperate attempt to impale yourself on Emily's fingers to relieve the ache inside.

Finally, Emily's tormenting fingers plunge into you, synchronizing the movement of her hand with the rhythm of your hips as you buck against her with furor. 

Her lips never leaving your mouth as your orgasm takes over, allowing you ride your high until the aftershocks wear out. You kiss the corner of her mouth affectionately, and she smiles at you, her hand moving loose strands of hair behind.

Before she can even react, you grab her hips and turn her around so that you're now on top of her and her head is resting against the pillows.

"hey, what are you doing?" she frowns in confusion "You said an orgasm to help you sleep, c'mon" but you don't listen, and instead you kiss her lips, softly first, then your open mouth finds her tongue with yours. It makes it hard for her to complain when you're kissing her so lovingly, so softly, so sensual.

You leave her mouth to reach lower for her nipple. Her breasts always the most sensitive part of her, you know how to play her body well, where to kiss, how to lick, how to use your teeth, and a long moan escapes her mouth, making you smile against the tender flesh of her breast.

You reach lower to find her thighs , the soft, pale skin looking so inviting for your lips you can't resist the teasing of kissing and biting here and there. You can feel her impatience when her hand reaches to gran¡b you by the back of your head, directing you where she wants you the most.

You practically devour her, not even bothering to take your time, your tongue flat against her slit, your lips trapping her sensitive bud making her whimper in pleasure. You eat her out like she's your last meal, and for the sounds she makes you can tell she's loving it, her hand still on your head keeping your mouth in place.

It's almost too sweet and tender, despite the loud moans escaping her mouth, but the way you kiss, the covers still soumd you, the room silent, is the sweetest kind of love making, and you almost wish you could simply spend the rest of the night like this.

Emily's body tenses and she grabs a fistful of your hair as she comes fighting for breath. When her body finally relaxes she releases a sigh of relief. You come up from behind the covers and snuggle her closely as she enjoys the aftershocks. You give her a chaste kiss, and she can barely respond but you can feel her smile against your lips.

You both lay tangled under the covers, the soft warmth of the sheets cocooning you as you snuggle into Emily’s arms. Her hand traces lazy patterns on your back, her fingers soothing against your skin. You feel a sense of peaceful exhaustion settle over you, the tension from your earlier restlessness now completely gone.

“That was... definitely enough to put me to sleep,” you murmur with a sleepy smile, your head resting against Emily’s chest as you listen to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Emily chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Good. You’ve been fighting sleep all day.” Her voice is gentle, low, and full of warmth as she wraps her arms a little tighter around you, holding you close.

You tilt your head up to look at her, your eyes half-closed but filled with contentment. “You always know exactly how to take care of me.”

She smirks slightly, her eyes twinkling as she brushes a loose strand of hair from your face. “Well, someone has to. You’re stubborn as hell when you’re sick.”

You let out a soft laugh, nuzzling into her neck. “I love you, you know that?”

Emily smiles down at you, her fingers gently caressing your cheek. “I love you too. Even when you’re being a total handful.” She leans in, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your lips. It’s soft and sweet, the kind of kiss that makes your heart swell with affection.

Just as you’re about to drift off into a peaceful sleep, you feel Emily tense up slightly beside you. Then, out of nowhere—

“Achoo!”

You sit up a little, blinking in surprise, then grin as you realize what just happened. “Did you just sneeze?” you ask, a playful lilt to your voice.

Emily groans, rubbing her nose as she looks over at you with a resigned expression. “Oh no.”

You giggle, pulling the blanket up to cover her more snugly. “Looks like I might’ve gotten you sick.”

She gives you a mock glare but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed.”

You laugh softly, snuggling back into her, wrapping your arms around her waist. “I’m sorry! Guess I really am contagious.”

Emily sighs dramatically, but there’s a playful light in her eyes. “Great. Now I’m going to be the one sneezing and coughing.” you can't help the grin spreading across your face "I can't believe it! See, i told you this is exactly what i meant when i say i don't fuck witht he infected!"

You kiss her shoulder softly, grinning against her skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. You know... payback.”

Emily chuckles, pulling you even closer. “You better. I’m not above making you play nurse for me.”

You snuggle closer to Emily, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on her arm as you tease, “You like that, huh? How about a sexy nurse to take care of you?” Your tone is playful, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

Emily raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh yeah?” she asks, voice laced with humor. “And what exactly does this sexy nurse do?”

You bite your lip, leaning in to kiss her softly on the neck before murmuring, “Whatever you need.”

Emily chuckles, her arms pulling you even closer. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering there. “You’re going to have your hands full with me, though.”

“I think I’m up for the challenge,” you whisper, tilting your head to catch her lips in another gentle kiss.

Just as the moment deepens, Emily pulls back, her body tensing. “Achoo!”

You can’t help but giggle, shaking your head as you press your forehead to hers. “Looks like you’ll be my first patient.”

Emily groans dramatically. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you get me sick.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while,” you say, kissing her once more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

This one's to myself because i catch a cold every two weeks istg. Anyways, remember to comment and reblog if you want me to write more! Because this challenge is getting frustrating :((