#i noticed the door was more open than usual

[rvp32]

Mother's Love

This was a commission but I got permission to post it. It is probably the work that took me the longest to write because of how much research. It is very new concept to me and I don't know how well I portrayed it. Please let me know what you guys think.

Warning: Heavy Incest

You gazed longingly at the framed photo on your nightstand - your mother in her prime, radiant smile beaming at the camera. With a guilty pang, you reached for it, fingertips tracing her outline. You knew it was wrong but couldn't stop the flood of inappropriate thoughts.

Just then, a gentle knock at your bedroom door made you jump. "Honey, are you okay? You've been awfully quiet tonight," your mother's concerned voice said.

Hastily, you shoved the photo under your pillow. "I-I'm fine, Mom," you called back, voice cracking slightly. "Just tired from work."

"Alright, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything." Her footsteps retreated down the hall.

You let out a shaky breath, simultaneously relieved and disappointed that she hadn't come in. Retrieving the photo and pulling your pants back on you headed out.  To your surprise, the door wasn’t closed but you were happy that she hadn’t seen what you were doing. 

Hey Mom, what are you doing back home so soon? I thought you were meeting Auntie Yoona and Yuri today. 

“I was baby, but we decided to call it a day fast because I didn’t want to leave you home alone for so long,” Seohyun says. 

This wasn’t anything new for your mother as she has always been very protective of you but what you found much more weird was the fact that your mother hasn’t tried to hug you yet. She loved hugs and that’s the first thing she always did when she saw you. 

It was a little surprising because you also loved those hugs, using them as a chance to hold her curvy body in between your arms, feel her breasts squeeze up against you, and the scent of Vanilla from her hair. 

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should bring up the lack of a hug. But before you can say anything, Seohyun speaks again.

"Sweetie, why don't you come sit with me on the couch? We need to talk about something."

Her tone is serious, and you feel a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. You follow her to the living room, watching as she settles onto the sofa. She pats the spot next to her, and you sit down, noticing how she keeps a bit more distance between you than usual.

"What's going on, Mom?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Seohyun takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours. "I've noticed what you were doing in your room earlier. I think we should address this."

Your heart races, and you feel a rush of heat on your face. You hadn't realized she'd seen anything. You try to swallow, but your mouth has gone dry.

"I... I don't know what you mean," you stammer, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know it's a feeble attempt at denial.

Seohyun's expression softens slightly, but her eyes remain serious. "Sweetie, I know this is uncomfortable, but we need to be honest with each other. I saw you looking at those pictures on your computer. The ones of... me."

Your stomach drops. You'd thought you were being so careful, always clearing your browser history, never leaving any traces. But somehow, she'd caught you.

"Mom, I can explain," you begin, but you're not sure how to continue. How do you explain the feelings you've been grappling with, the confusion and desire that have been tormenting you for months? How do you tell your mother that you've developed feelings for her that go far beyond what's appropriate?

Seohyun takes a step closer, and you instinctively back away until you feel the wall behind you. You're trapped, both physically and emotionally.

"Honey, I'm not angry," she says softly. "I'm just... concerned. And a little confused. Can you help me understand what's going on?"

You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear. But you know you can't avoid this conversation any longer. With a shaky breath, you open your eyes and meet her gaze but close them again.

"I don't know how it happened," you whisper. "I've tried to fight it, to ignore these feelings, but I can't. Mom, I... I think I'm in love with you."

Your eyes remain closed as you take a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. The silence stretches on, punctuated only by the pounding of your heart. 

"I... I don't know how to explain it," you finally manage. Your voice comes out as barely more than a whisper. "It's not something I chose or wanted. These feelings just... developed over time."

You open your eyes to see your mother's face etched with worry. She reaches out and gently touches your arm. The contact sends a jolt through you.

"When did this start?" Seohyun asks.

"I'm not sure exactly. Maybe a few months ago? At first, I tried to ignore it, to push the thoughts away. But they kept coming back stronger." 

You look down, unable to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry, Mom. I know it's wrong. I've tried to get rid of them but no matter what I tried, I always ended up back where I started. 

You feel your mother's hand gently squeeze your arm. "Sweetheart, look at me," she says softly. You slowly raise your eyes to meet hers, expecting to see disappointment or disgust. Instead, her gaze is filled with understanding and compassion.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Seohyun says firmly. "Your feelings are valid, even if they're complicated. I'm glad you felt you could open up to me about this."

She pulls you into a warm embrace. You relax into her arms, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

"Why don't we sit down and talk more?" your mother suggests. "I want to understand what you're going through."

The both of you sit down and you begin to tell her what you have been doing, Seohyun listens without saying a single word, sitting next to you with her legs folded. 

“Mom, are you sure it's fine for me to keep going? I know this isn’t what you expected from me.” 

All of a sudden, Seohyun pushes your back onto the couch.

“Baby you have no idea how much I have held myself back.  Just hearing how you feel about me made me feel so wet, Look” 

Seohyun holds you down with your hands above your head,  and moves her pelvis closer to your face, showing you the wet spot on her leggings. 

Shocked would be an understatement of how you were feeling right now, you couldn’t get any words out. 

“Your body is so fucking perfect baby, I love skinny men, and you are just the perfect size for me unlike your father, so fat and ugly he is. I am so happy that you are nothing like him, baby.” 

She traces your body, her fingers lingering over your collarbone and shoulder. 

“Your body is just so perfect for a goddess like me. Look at how sexy I am, my body is literal perfection and it deserves to be worshipped doesn’t it.” Seohyun asks. 

All you can do is nod. 

“That’s a good boy. Now stay still for mommy,” Seohyun says as she lets go of your hands and takes off her leggings along with those panties. 

“Fuck Mommy, your body is so perfect. Those legs and lovely shaved pussy,” You say as you admire her body.  

“I know baby” 

“Mommy can you come kiss me please! I wanna hold your face and enjoy this moment,” 

Seohyun obliges and kisses her son, a deep and passionate one. Tongues fighting with each other but Seohyun’s winning. 

After what felt like hours, she pulls away from you. “Give your hands baby,” 

You oblige, Seohyun ties your hands together with her leggings. 

“Mommy, why are you tying my hands,” You ask, surprised and also annoyed because you wanted to hold her and feel her perfect body. 

“Yes baby, I am the one in control here and you will do anything I say won’t you, my pretty boy?”

“Yes Mommy, I will be a good boy for you,” you reply all your worries from earlier disappearing. All you wanted to do was make your mommy happy. 

Your mother's pussy was now right in front of your face, a few inches away from your mouth. You had dreamed about such a day, the smell was so perfect, a little hint of her sweat but that made it more addicting. 

You put your tongue out trying to get a taste of her pussy but you were stopped by your hair being pulled. 

“Did I tell you to lick my pussy?” Seohyun says. In the same voice, she uses when you do something stupid. 

“No…” you were shocked by her tone but something about the way she was controlling you was turning you on in a way that you didn’t know was possible. 

“Good, you will only do things that I say, anything more or anything less you will be punished okay? Pretty boy,”

“Yes Mommy,” You liked how this situation turned out even more now. You were always a submissive guy so this was a dream come true.

“Now, go ahead and have a taste of this heavenly pussy,” Seohyun allows you. Wanting to savor the moment, you take a deep breath of her scent and dive into it. Her pussy tasted amazing, it was sweet and addictive. 

You licked her pussy as your life depended on it, occasionally flicking your tongue against her clit. Seohyun’s moans filled the room. It was like music to your ears. 

Seohyun grabbed onto your hair pulling it and the pain is making this pleasure even better. 

“Fuck, baby boy, keep going! You are going to make Mommy cum, keep going. Don’t you dare fucking stop? Keep fucking going baby!” Seohyun screamed. Her pleasure was getting to her. 

Soon after, Seohyun goes over the edge, squirting all over your face, her thighs crushing your head. You lick up every single drop of it. 

“You did such an amazing job baby boy! Mommy should reward you for being such a good boy. Don’t move and let mommy take care of you” 

Seohyun pulls down your pants and out comes your hard cock. Amazed by its sheer size.”I didn’t know you grew so much, baby.” 

She wraps her hand around your cock slowly pumping it. Her hands felt so perfect around your cock, the warmth of her hands so perfect. 

“Mommy, that feels so good!” You moan. 

Your moans were like music to Seohyun’s ears, she wanted to hear more. So she gives your cock a little kiss on the tip before putting it into her mouth, her head bobbing as her tongue works its way around the tip.

It was a struggle to not cum within a few seconds. It took all the concentration you had but it was getting too much. You try to stop her with your hands and it works but to your dismay, your mother's eyes meet yours and she isn’t happy. 

A sudden sting on your cheek brings you back to reality, Seohyun had just slapped you. “WHAT THE FUCK Mom!” 

But the only reply you get is another slap.

“What did I tell you? I told you to stay still, didn’t I?” 

You were stunned but replied, “You did, I’m sorry Mommy it was getting too much for me,”

“I know baby but mommy wants your cum, you will give it to her won’t you?” Seohyun says, her puppy eyes staring into yours. 

“Yes Mommy, Anything for you,” You didn’t have it in you to say no to anything that she asked for especially when she used those puppy eyes. 

She restarted her assault on your cock and this time she was dead set on making you cum. Her head bobbing so fast, this time you did your best to keep your hands above. 

“Hnghh, Mommy I’m cumming!!” 

Seohyun speeds up and within a few seconds, you cum down her throat. This was probably the strongest orgasm that you have ever had. It was mind-numbing to you. Seohyun swallowed every single drop of your cum. 

“Mhmm that was quite the load you were saving up for me, baby.” 

The orgasm had hit you like a truck and you were recovering slowly from it. “Amazing Mommy, that was the best orgasm that I’ve ever had,” 

“I know baby, and this is just the beginning we haven’t even got to the main event yet.” 

“Oh yeah? I can’t wait to see how much better the main event is going to be Mommy.”

“Let me ride my baby boy, I want to feel your cock stretching out my tight pussy.” Seohyun says. Stradling your body and lining your cock. 

She teases you, not putting it in, rubbing your cock on her pussy coating it with her juices. You wanted to put it in so badly but you knew better than to be impatient, but there was only so much you could take. 

“Mommy, please put it in,” you beg.

She obliges, slowly sliding your cock into her tight pussy, this is what you imagined heaven would feel like. 

“Fuck! Baby, your big fat cock is stretching me out so good, I miss this feeling so fucking much, your tiny dick father could never stretch me like this,” Seohyun moaned, her hands gripping onto your chest as she adjusted to your length.

“Mommy your pussy is so fucking tight!” You moaned. 

Seohyun was riding you like there was no tomorrow, the pleasure slowly taking over her brain and ignoring your hands that were now groping at her perfect tits. 

Everything was so perfect. Your mother continued to ride you as you played with her tits. One of her hands rubbing her clit. 

The sight of your cock going in and out of your mother's pussy was addicting, Your mother loved it just as much as you, she loved it a lot more. Her hips were moving in ways that you didn’t know were possible and that was bringing you closer to your orgasm. 

With how much your dick was twitching inside Seohyun’s pussy she knew that you wouldn’t be able to last longer but she couldn’t have that, not when she hasn’t even cum yet. 

You felt Seohyun slap you, it wasn’t like the one before this one was harder, before you could protest another one landed. You were shocked. 

“Mommy, what did I do?” You questioned. 

“Nothing baby, I just didn’t want you to cum so soon. Mommy is close but you have to make her cum more than once. She desperately misses sex,” Seohyun moaned as her nails dug into your arms. 

The pain really helped get your mind off your orgasm but you were enjoying the pain, it was different, it felt perfect receiving pain from the one woman you loved more than yourself.

“Mommy’s cumming baby boy, pound her hard and fast, don’t you dare fucking cum or stop until I say so,” Seohyun instructs and you do exactly that. There wasn’t much gap between Seohyun and the bed but you did your best to pound into her and she was enjoying it. 

After a few seconds of hard pounding, Seohyun pulls your cock out of her pussy and squirts all over your body. It was a strong one given how much squirt was on your body and also how long it took your mother to recover from it. 

As soon as she recovers from her orgasm, she begins chasing her next one, hoping it is stronger than the last, her dominant side takes over and she begins choking you all while still riding you.

The lack of oxygen and the tightness of Seohyun’s pussy was bringing you dangerously close to your orgasm. 

‘Mommy-” Before you can warn your mother, your cum, squirting your seed into the depths of your mother's tight pussy. 

“Oh my God, what a naughty boy you are. Cumming inside me without permission. Since this is your first time. I am going to let this go.” 

Seohyun stays on your cock for a few more seconds before finally getting off. A glob of your semen leaks out of her freshly fucked pussy. Seohyun is a little surprised by this. 

“Oh my! Were you trying to get your mother pregnant? Look at how much cum you dumped in my pussy,” Seohyun says before bending down to lick up the glob of cum that leaked out of her pussy. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” you reply, a little guilty for cumming inside of her without her permission. 

“Haha, don’t take it seriously. I was just kidding. Go on clean up. Your father might be coming home earlier than expected today,” Seohyun says before untying your hands and walking toward the master bedroom.

Heading your mother’s warning, you pick up your clothes and head to your room to wash up. Just as your mother had predicted, your father returned an hour after your sex session. 

**********

The next few days were uneventful. Neither of you spoke about what had happened that night. Maybe it was because both of you were avoiding the responsibility of confronting the situation, but more than anything, it seemed like your father’s presence at home gave you both an excuse to ignore it. He had taken a few days off, and the house was unusually busy with him being around.

You spent most of your time outside, either at the gym or hanging out at a friend’s place, unable to bear the sight of your father acting all affectionate with your mother. For some reason, it rubbed you the wrong way—seeing them that way, so close and content, stirred something uncomfortable deep within you.

One afternoon, you came home to find your mother sitting at your desk, using your computer. Before you could see what she was looking at, she quickly closed all the windows and got up, leaving the room without a word. It was strange—completely out of character for her. She had never gone through your things before, much less without asking your permission.

Shrugging it off, you spent the next few hours immersed in your video games. When dinner time rolled around, you went downstairs. Dinner proceeded as usual, with the usual exchanges between your parents. Just as you were beginning to let your guard down, something unexpected happened: beneath the table, your mother’s foot slowly slid onto your lap.

Her toes pressed against your groin.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your body tensed involuntarily. It was difficult not to react, especially with your father sitting right next to her, obliviously eating. She didn’t look at you, not once, her expression calm and composed as if nothing unusual was happening.

That was the only noteworthy event of the evening. Afterward, things seemed to return to normal—as normal as they could be.

************

The following evening, the air in the house felt unusually heavy. You kept thinking about the small, strange moments you had shared with your mother over the last few days—moments you didn’t know how to interpret.

Later that night, when you were in your room, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you heard the faintest sound of anklets jingling from outside your door.

The door creaked open, and there she stood—your mother, Seohyun, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light. But tonight, she wasn’t dressed in her usual attire. She was wearing an intricate Indian outfit—a flowing saree draped elegantly over her body. The rich fabric shimmered as she stepped into the room, each movement accompanied by the soft chime of her anklets.

Her bare feet carried silver toe rings that glinted under the low light, and a thin chain rested delicately around her waist, adorned with a small stomach ring that peeked from beneath the edge of her saree. She wore a nose ring—simple yet striking—and it enhanced the sharpness of her features. She looked both foreign and familiar, like a dream plucked from the depths of your subconscious. 

Your heart pounded as she closed the door quietly behind her, locking it with a soft click.

“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper. There was no mistaking the intent behind her gaze—she knew exactly what she was doing.

How did she know? How had she figured out your fascination with Indian attire?

Before you could gather your thoughts, she crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps, her anklets jingling with every movement. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood clung to her skin, intoxicating. She knelt beside you, her fingers brushing lightly against your hand.

“You don’t have to hide it anymore,” she whispered, leaning closer. "I know."

 The room felt still, as though time had slowed. Your gaze traveled over her form, taking in every detail—the way the saree’s fabric clung to her curves, the shimmer of silver jewelry against her pale skin, and the way she carried herself with quiet grace.

Seohyun tilted her head slightly, her anklet chiming softly as she shifted her weight. "Do you like what you see?" she asked gently, her voice carrying warmth and curiosity as if she truly wanted to know what was in your heart.

You swallowed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Yes... Goddess.” The word slipped from your lips without hesitation, as if it had always belonged there. It wasn’t just admiration—it was reverence, an acknowledgment of the deep, unspoken emotions that had grown over time. You weren’t merely looking at your mother; you were gazing at someone you now saw as something more—someone extraordinary.

A soft smile spread across her lips, filled with both amusement and understanding. She didn’t laugh at you or dismiss the way you had addressed her. Instead, she stood quietly, as if waiting for you to express what had been unspoken between the two of you.

You knelt in front of her, overwhelmed by the desire to honor her presence. With a deep breath, you lowered your head and kissed her feet. The cool metal of her toe rings brushed against your skin, and the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air. It wasn’t about submission; it was about devotion.

She rested her hand lightly on your head, her touch soft and reassuring. "You don't have to be afraid," she whispered. "Mommy’s here."

Raising your head slowly, you gazed up at her. "I... I want to honor you, Goddess. To cherish every part of you."

Her expression softened, and she brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. "Then honor me," she said simply, her voice steady and kind.

You sat quietly at her feet as you traced her body from her toes to her magnificent thighs. She stayed with you, the jingling of her anklets becoming a familiar, soothing sound. It felt as if the unspoken tension of the past days had finally lifted, replaced by something far more profound—a bond deeper than words, built on mutual respect and quiet admiration.

A rush of emotions surged through you—so many that it was difficult to sort them all out. Reverence, gratitude, admiration… but above all, an overwhelming sense of peace. It was as if the storm raging inside you for days had finally quieted, replaced by clarity.

Every small detail seemed magnified: the cool metal of her toe rings, the soft chime of her anklets, the smoothness of her skin beneath your touch. Your heart pounded, not with fear, but with a deep sense of purpose. Worshipping her wasn’t just an act—it felt like the truest way to express what words never could.

You marveled at her grace, the way the flowing fabric of her saree traced her silhouette like art in motion. Every inch of her felt like a masterpiece—each curve, each subtle movement speaking of beauty beyond the physical. It was not just about her appearance, but the aura she carried: the quiet strength, the kindness, the elegance that she exuded so effortlessly.

As your fingers brushed along her anklets, a strange warmth bloomed within you—something between awe and humility. You felt small in her presence, but not in a diminished way. It was the kind of smallness you might feel while standing beneath a starry sky, or gazing at a powerful painting—something grand, humbling, yet strangely comforting.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at her, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in her eyes—an understanding, perhaps, of what this moment meant to you. There was no awkwardness, no shame, only a quiet acceptance between the two of you.

Touching her feet, tracing the delicate rings she wore, filled you with a sense of connection that went deeper than any conversation ever could. It was as though you were communicating without words, speaking in gestures and glances, your emotions laid bare in the simplest of touches.

And as you gazed up at her, you felt a sense of belonging—like you were exactly where you were meant to be. In that quiet, sacred space, nothing else mattered. The world outside could wait. All that existed now was her, standing before you, radiant and serene.

The first thing you noticed was how soft and smooth her skin felt beneath your touch—like fine silk, cool yet welcoming. Her feet were elegant, with well-formed arches that gave them a graceful shape. The pale skin had a slight sheen, catching the soft light in the room. A light floral scent, perhaps from lotion or oil, lingered faintly, making the experience even more soothing.

Her toes were slender, each adorned with delicate silver rings that rested comfortably against her skin, their smooth surfaces cool under your fingertips. The rings glinted subtly, adding an extra layer of beauty to her already mesmerizing presence. Her nails were neatly trimmed and painted a soft shade of pink—simple yet refined, perfectly complementing the quiet elegance she carried.

The anklets wrapped around her slim ankles jingled gently with every movement, creating a rhythmic, calming sound. You felt the subtle weight of the anklets as you rested your forehead against her feet, the tiny charms brushing lightly against your skin.

Her soles were soft but carried a slight firmness from the natural wear of walking barefoot—enough to remind you of her strength without diminishing her delicacy. As your fingertips traced lightly along the curve of her heel, you noticed how her skin gave just a little under your touch, a perfect balance between tender and resilient.

There was warmth in her touch as she rested one foot against your hands as if to say she accepted your reverence. The slight pressure of her foot was neither heavy nor intrusive—just enough to make you feel grounded, connected, and fully present in the moment. 

As the quiet moment lingered, she reached out, her hand gently cupping your face with a softness that seemed to erase all your doubts. She looked at you, her eyes filled with warmth and a silent understanding, before leaning down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. Her closeness filled you with a sense of calm, and you felt yourself relax under her gentle touch.

She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as she brought her lips to yours in a delicate, almost tentative kiss. The touch was gentle, warm, and filled with a kindness that made your heartache. Her lips were soft, and the kiss was unhurried as if she wanted to savor every moment, every shared breath. It wasn’t about passion or intensity; it was about the quiet connection you both shared—a bond that felt comforting, familiar, and deeply rooted.

As she leaned in, the first kiss was soft and slow, but it quickly deepened, as if an unspoken energy had sparked between you both. Her hand slid up to your neck, fingers tracing lightly over your skin as her lips pressed to yours with more intensity. There was a hint of laughter in her eyes, a playful spark that made you feel like she was daring you to follow her lead.

Suddenly, she broke away, her fingers slipping from yours as she backed away with a teasing smile. She took a step backward, her gaze inviting you to follow. And then, with a quiet laugh, she turned and glided into the next room, her steps light and graceful. You didn’t hesitate—you chased after her, catching up just as she leaned back against the doorway, waiting for you with that same mischievous smile.

Your hands found hers, pulling her close as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders. The kiss was bolder this time, filled with an urgency that neither of you had fully realized until now. She pulled back again, just enough to make you chase her once more, her laughter echoing softly as she led you through the house.

In each room, you caught up to her, drawing her close as her fingers tangled in your hair, her lips meeting yours in passionate, lingering kisses that left you breathless. Her touch was tender, but her gaze was filled with a warmth that felt like both an invitation and a challenge.

Room by room, she led you, each time letting you catch her, only to playfully slip away with a smile that kept your pulse racing. Her laughter, her smile, her closeness—all of it filled you with a joy that felt deeper than words. You both moved in harmony, drawn together by the same unspoken connection, until finally, you reached a quiet space where you held each other, both breathless, both smiling, as you shared one last kiss filled with warmth and affection before Seohyun broke the silence.

“What a good boy you are. Seeing how much you were worshipping my feet, maybe I should give you a footjob,” Seohyun suggested. 

“Please Mommy”

“Take off your clothes for me,” Seohyun commanded, her tone unchanged but her voice sounded hypnotizing. 

You do exactly that, in a hurry, ripping pieces of our clothing away from your body. Seohyun admires your body like an artwork. She closes the gap between the both of you but the kiss you were expecting doesn’t come, instead she pushes you onto the bed. 

Seohyun follows you onto the bed. Her back rested against the headboard. “Come to me.” 

Seohyun’s thighs wrapping your body and her feet reach your hardened cock. The cold metal of her toe ring creates a novel sensation on your cock. Her anklet occasionally touches your thighs making a jingling sound. 

“Spit on your cock for me,” Seohyun commands. 

She spreads your spit all over your cock and she begins giving you a footjob. This was your first footjob, you never expected it to feel this good. The sound of her anklet ringing throughout the entire room. 

You were trying your best not to moan so soon. The kisses she was placing on your neck were distracting you from your rising orgasm. Her legs were moving in perfect motion giving you the most amount of pleasure. The sound of her anklet hypnotized you into a trance where pleasure was all you could think about. 

The orgasm that you were trying so hard to stop was now unstoppable, her hips unconsciously thrusting into your mother's feet. Seohyun noticed this and also how much your cock was throbbing. 

When you were almost at your peak, Seohyun pulled her feet away from your cock, leaving you completely devoid of any touch. 

“MOMMYY! I was just about to cum!” You whine, your voice filled with frustration. 

“I know baby but we don’t want this to end so soon now do we?” 

After a few seconds, Seohyun’s feet wrap around your cock again but this time they don’t move. “Mommy, pleaseeee” 

“If you want it so badly then why not fuck my feet then?” Seohyun suggests. Initially, you were a little reluctant because of how embarrassing it was but your lust eventually got the best of you. You began humping your mother's feet slowly. 

The pleasure and pace increase with every thrust. Eventually, the orgasm that had subsided was now within your reach. “Mommy, your feet feel so good. I’m gonna cum soon!” You moan. 

But again you were deprived of your release. “Mommy!” you scream and get out of her embrace.  

“Don’t be so impatient baby, your mommy will let you cum so be a good boy and keep humping my feet,” Seohyun says. 

Though you weren’t particularly happy about it you still enjoyed how good your mother’s feet felt around your cock. You went back to thrusting your cock in between her soft feet. Increasing your pace with every thrust, trying to chase your orgasm again not caring about how your mother would react to your disobedience. 

Seohyun could feel your thrusts getting more erratic, the way you were grunting turned your mother her hand playing with her clothed pussy but you were too preoccupied to notice it. 

The sudden increase in pace from earlier signaled to your soon impending orgasm but you were brought back to reality by a sharp slap, your cheek stinging. Seohyun grabs you by your hair, pulling you close to her. 

“You want to be a naughty boy? Do you know what happens to naughty boys?” 

You nod in reply. 

Seohyun yanks your hair again, “Use your pretty words, or are you so stupid that you can’t give me a proper reply?” 

“They get punished,” you reply. 

“Yes, they get punished. Stay here,” Seohyun says before leaving you alone in the room. 

The suspense was killing you, lying there on your bed completely naked. Not knowing what kind of punishment is awaiting you. The silence is broken by the sound of your mother’s anklet jingling echoing throughout the house. 

Seohyun returns to the room with a Whip in her hand, a small one but it was intimidating you a lot more than you would like to admit. You had never been hit before at least not like this. 

“Turn around, I wanna see that skinny ass of yours,” Seohyun commands. You do exactly as she asks.  

You could feel the coolness of the whip as it slides over your ass, and then you are struck, it wasn’t hard but enough to send a stinging sense of pain. 

“Hngh,” You let out a sound, trying your best not to scream. 

Surprisingly your dick was throbbing, the pain that was supposed to scare you was giving you pleasure. 

Another one but this type on your upper back, much harder than the previous one, you moaned out in pain. She continued to whip you, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard, but you loved every single one, crazing more. 

“Turn around,” and so you do 

Your mother immediately notices the massive boner that you were sporting and also the precum that was leaking from the tip of your penis. 

“Oh my what a naughty little slut you are, you were enjoying all this whipping?” Seohyun asks but you are too shy to reply. 

“I can’t believe that I’ve got a painslut on my hands,” Seohyun coos you as she leans in to kiss you. Both your bodies were covered with sweat, Seohyun’s body sliding against yours as she leaned into the kiss and onto your body. 

“My ideal man, you are the perfect man for me, your skinny body, your love for pain, and your fat cock, it’s meant for me and only me,” Seohyun whispers after cupping your face.

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore,” Soehyun says before aligning herself on your cock and slowly sinking into it. 

“THIS IS IT! This is the best fucking feeling ever. Your fat cock stretched my pussy so fucking good baby boy” Seohyun moans as her ass sits flat on your pelvis with your cock buried deep inside her tight pussy. 

Her pussy was just as you remember it, the closest thing to perfection. It was gripping onto your cock with the perfect amount of pressure. Seohyun’s sweat drips onto your face as she adjusts to your length. The room was too hot for the both of you but you couldn’t care more about the heat outside because the heat inside of you was burning you up and you needed your mother to feel just how much you loved her. 

“Mommy, please can you start moving, I don’t know how much longer I can stay like this,” You beg, Seohyun obliges your request and begins to slowly move her hips.

“Fuck!” You moan.

“Yes, this is it! Don’t you dare fucking cum this time without my permission,” Seohyun said as her ass bounced on your cock. The sound of wet bodies colliding with each other and her jewelry bouncing echoed throughout the room.

Seohyun’s tits bouncing right in front of you, mesmerizing. You grab onto them, and your hands sink into them, soft as feathery pillows. Using one of your hands you pinch one of her nipples that were as hard as rocks. With just one twist, your mother’s pussy tightened around you catching you off guard and almost making you cum. 

“You like that mommy? When I play with your sensitive nipples?” Seohyun yelps with increased pleasure. 

“I wonder if is squeeze hard enough, will milk come out Mommy?” you ask and pinch harder. 

“Hngh fuck! Mommy loves it baby keep going. Fuck a baby into me and I will give you all the milk you need my pretty boy,” Seohyun replies, the pleasure slowly getting to her.

Her grinding slows down, you take this as a chance to start thrusting into her. She was shocked by your sudden movements but she loved it, her moans grew louder almost sounding like screams. 

“Yes, that’s it! I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” your mother screamed one last time before cumming and squirting all over your body. Her back bending in pure bliss, incoherent words spilling out of her mouth. Some of her squirt got into your mouth but you relished the sweetness of her juices.

Your cock was resting and throbbing on your abdomen as Seohyun recovered from the mind-shattering orgasm that she just had. Your breathing still labored from the intense pounding you just gave your mother.

“That was the best orgasm that I’ve ever had baby boy. Now it’s your turn, I can see your cock throbbing and begging for a release,” Seohyun says as she gets off you. 

“Now come and fuck your mommy till you cum deep inside her pussy and breed her,” Seohyun commands. 

Taking up her invitation. This was the first time that you were on top and had any sort of control in the bedroom with your mother. You lined yourself up and rubbed the entrance of her pussy and slapped your cock on her her clit occasionally. 

“I’m putting it in Mommy,” You warn her, slowly pushing into her. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle baby, Go ahead and fuck me like I am nothing but a fleshlight! Use your mommy and dump your cum into my fertile baby-making womb,” Seohyun moans.

You bottom out into her and start pounding without waiting for another second. The warmth and tightness brought back the orgasm that had subsided earlier. You were pounding hard and fast. Seohyun’s tits bouncing with every thrust. 

The bouncing tits were enticing you to grab them but all of a sudden something came over your mind and you give her boobs a hard slap causing a stinging sensation for Seohyun. 

“Yes just like that use me however you want! This body is your baby!” Your mother screamed loving the stinging sensation. 

You continue to give her boobs a few more hard slaps, her white pale skin was now bright red, and Seohyun’s eyes rolled to the back of her head with the immense pleasure she was feeling. Her mouth was open and spit drooling out without any control. 

It was only a matter of a few more seconds before you could no longer hold back and from the looks of it your mother was also closing in on another orgasm. Your thrusts grew more erratic.

“Fuck I’m cumming!” You scream. 

Seohyun can feel you pulling out and she can’t have that, she wraps her legs around your body caging you and keeping your cock buried deep inside her pussy. “Don’t you dare even think of trying to pull out? I need your hot cum filling up my tight pussy.” 

“THIS IS IT! FUCKK! Your cum is so fucking hot, it’s like my inside is being burned!” 

You were out of it, the pleasure from the orgasm was beyond what you had ever felt, it was destroying your brain, completely destroying your ability to form any thoughts or sentences. The only sound in the room was your grunts as you shot your last few spurts of cum. 

It took you a good few minutes before you were finally able to comprehend what you had just done and how perfect this moment was. 

“How are you feeling baby?” Your mother asked as she felt you slowly trying to pull out. 

“That was perfect mommy! But is it really okay for me to be cumming inside you like this? What if you get pregnant?” You question 

“That’s exactly what I want. I want to carry your baby” Seohyun says.  

The words that had just come out of your mother’s mouth were beyond shocking, it wasn’t something you had ever expected to hear. It took you a few seconds to process what you had just heard. 

“But what about father, what about everyone else no one will accept this!” You screamed, panic setting in. 

“It’s okay baby, We can run away from all this to a far-away country where no one knows the both of us. We can get married and enjoy the life we want.” Seohyun says. This is what you wanted but you needed to be realistic about it because starting a completely new life would be extremely hard. 

“It’s too difficult, I don’t even have enough money to support us for a month.” You retort. 

“Money is not of concern, baby. I’ve been making arrangements for a while now. I have more than enough to last us through the rest of our lives,” 

“How? I thought Dad paid for everything.” You questioned. 

“That’s a story for another time. Tell me, don’t you want to marry your mother and run away from this mess.”  

“I do, I want that so badly but I’m scared. I don’t know what will happen and I don’t want you to get hurt,” You reply 

“Don’t worry baby, we can figure it all out. I know that you would never hurt me intentionally,” Seohyun replies. 

The sweetness in her words flicked a switch in your mind. You knew you wanted this but those words gave you the push you so desperately needed. 

You kiss her, it is an innocent kiss filled with love and passion. Both your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths. Something about this kiss felt perfect. 

If it wasn’t for the need to breathe the kiss would have gone on for much longer, you pull away from your mother, your forehead still on hers, lips mere centimeters away from each other. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Seohyun says and all you can do is nod, not finding the right words to express your love and gratitude. 

After laying together for a few seconds, you get up to admire your mother’s perfect body, from her perfect chubby face to her firm tits, to her perfectly sculpted stomach, and then to her pussy which had your cum leaking. 

The sight of your cum leaking from her pussy turned you on again and within no time you were hard again. Seohyun notices this. “Oh my, being young truly is an amazing gift. You aren’t satisfied even after all the things we just did” 

“Sorry, Mommy I will take care of it,” You reply but are pulled back into bed by your mother. 

“You will do no such thing. As long as I am here, the only one who gets to milk a load of cum from you is me, and only me. So come here and fuck your mother again but this time I want to do it in the washroom while we shower.”

Taking her up on the invitation you pick her up from the bed, her legs wrapped around your body, face to face with you. You line yourself up with her pussy and slide it in, there was almost no resistance given how wet and cum filled it was. 

You start thrusting up slowly, her moans filling up the room. While still thrusting, you slowly walk toward the washroom. 

The both of you were still sensitive from the last time, so you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

Seohyun turns the shower on with one of the hands that was wrapped around your neck. The hot water hits your back, your thrusts increase in pace. Seohyun’s body is now pressed in between the wall and your body. 

Your mother’s pussy was tightening around you, her nails digging into the back of your neck, and the hot water causing a stinging pain. 

“I can’t hold on much longer baby, please let’s cum together, I need you to fill up your mother's tight pussy again! I beg you!” Seohyun scream. 

Your thrusts growing more erratic and harsh, not caring about anything or than your orgasm. Seohyun ends up cumming a little earlier than you and a few seconds after her you follow, flooding her pussy full of all the cum that you have left. 

“FUCK!” You grunt as your cum floods Seohyun’s pussy. 

The both of you don’t move, the scene in front of you is something that you would love to see every day. Seohyun’s face drained and your cock was the cause of that. 

Mesmerized by her beauty you place kisses all over her chubby perfect face. Seohyun loved those little kisses. Just as you are about to pull out, Seohyun stops you.

“Leave it in there baby, I don’t want a single drop of your cum to go to waste,” Seohyun says. 

******

It’s been three years since your mind-blowing sex in the washroom. The both of you had now moved to a remote estate in Poland, a place where no one recognized your mother or you. 

It was no longer just the two of you, Soehyun had given birth to your baby boy 2 years ago and she was now pregnant again with your child. It was initially difficult for you to adjust to but you had gotten used to it. You were now working in a small company, under an alias. 

Life was perfect like this. Every evening when you came back home you were greeted by your perfect wife/mother. After dinner, you guys still had the same amount of passion in the bedroom, and sex was still as hot and exciting as ever, sometimes you both went overboard with all the sex but it was fine. This is the life you had imagined and loved.   

[wifes-xxx]

There have been moments, especially when we open our hearts to a husband , where you have felt a distance between you. I know It's as if the door to your heart opens just halfway, holding back parts of you out of fear, caution, or maybe something you now can't quite understand. It struck you deeply like a slap, and you couldn't help but fee this realisation, it sounds like you are being self centred "I can't believe you would be someone so selfish. That you cant give yourself over completely to your relationship. What a dried up and broken woman you have become"

The beauty of exploring love languages and embracing our vulnerabilities lies in their reflection of real-life relationships. These concepts encourage us to examine our own connections, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complexities of love. It's an invitation to reflect on how we communicate affection and how we can better align with our loved ones, paving the way for more fulfilling relationships

Have you noticed sometimes when you do want it from a your guy , it almost feels like you’re invisible to him?

Are you nodding along?

Has this happened to you?

You already know you’re smitten. With your husband, only…you’re not bold and slutty, so you don’t feel comfortable just walking over and dropping to your knees and unzipping his pants and pulling it out, or telling him that you’re horny and need fucking… now!

So what can you do because you know it’s insulting to him for you to be a boring prude?

It’s fairly easy to get attention, but that doesn’t in any way guarantee that he will want to fuck you. Just something to be aware of. Once you have his attention, you’ll want to really notice what his reaction to you is. Does he smile while listening to every word, or is he busier checking his phone than talking to you? The sharper your observation skills, the less time you waste on knowing how to please him.

Grow up…you’re acting like you’re in middle school. You’re not. There are better, high-value ways to get his attention. Be his wife, his woman and his lover. Show him what you have and let him enjoy you.

Never be boring or distant.

Instead make yourself interesting and be interested in him and his desires. Learn what makes him hard.

Think of each moment like the dating game, you may be insecure about flirting or expressing your interest. It will take practice, but you’ve got this! Show some sexual aggression and really let him know what you have in mind. Use your brain. Or play open docile and ditzy. If it makes him hard and your feeling horny and wet, know in your heart its working for you. Remember that.

Be his good girl a figure out what turns him on and makes him hard, and interested. Usually, within a few minutes of conversation and , you can deduce this. Obviously, look for a bulge, but also keep an eye out for signs of breast gaze and lip gazing what part of your body is he focused upon! Display yourself with abandon like the women these men look at on Tumblr. They are interested atvtmhem for a reason. Forgot you self and think about why men masturbate to these kind of women pictures.

Let it change you prudish self.

Keep the conversation going once you have his attention, and make it clear that you’re not just being normal friendly (you’re being flirty friendly!). Use your language in and out of the bedroom to keep him engaged.

“You make me so wet”

“Never Stop”

“That feels amazing”

“Does that feel good?”

“I can feel your dick throbbing”

“I want you here right now”

“I want You so bad”

“I was thinking about you today”

“ oh fuck me, Just Like That”

“You make me want to scream”

“Fill me up”

” I'm curious honey what porn makes you. Hard“

“Fuck me like you mean it”

“Harder”

“I feel tiny in your arms”

“I love you”

“I love your dick”

“I want your cum”

“Kiss Me”

“Make me cum baby”

“Seeing you right after a workout”

“Taste Me”

“Your cock is stretching me out”

“I'm not wearing my panties today“

Feel free to share you favourites with me.

Oh God, this felt amazingly good to write. I am sooo ready for him.

S_XXX

[sweetpupii]

Hi! Do you take requests?

If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:

"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"

of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏

If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)

Let's start by saying Caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.

sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.

( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )

it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.

your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.

she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.

“Should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.

oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.

the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.

legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.

if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.

she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.

she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.

the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.

“Caitlyn.”

of course it had to be her mother out of all people.

cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!

“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.

“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.

she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.

[alwaysthefool]

But She’s Not You (x Zayne)

Technically part 2 to Opposite (linked) but you can read it stand alone too.

Warnings: insecurity

Tags: Angst to comfort, f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: After you saw him with someone else and misunderstood, Zayne lets you know you’re the only one for him.

Sulking at the waiting room couldn’t get past Yvonne’s sharp eyes. It had been a week since you’d come to the hospital. You didn’t pick up Zayne’s calls after you ‘ended things’, and him, being the gentleman that he was, did not push it. He was probably busy again, and now he had someone else to keep him company. Unfortunately for you, you had a weird and constant chest pain that was getting hard to ignore. You begged the receptionist to get you any other cardiologist than Zayne, which meant you had to wait, because Zayne would never make you wait when it came to your heart.

“What’s wrong?” She took a seat beside you at the metal chairs. “Trouble with the doc?”

You sighed, your head down, grateful she was here. “I saw him with another girl. Laughing, with another girl.”

“Dr. Zayne laughs?” Grayson slumped down on the other side of you. That just made you feel worse. Right, he was usually stoic, but who wouldn’t laugh when someone like her was making a joke?

Yvonne pinched Grayson, as if begging him to read the room.

“Well, he’s doing terribly.” Grayson spoke immediately. “I don’t think he took a break this entire week. Jo almost has to force him to take a break at times.”

Tears filled your eyes immediately and you hated that it wasn’t because you were concerned about him, but rather that he had another girl who’d remind him to take breaks, to eat sweets, to smile every now and then. It was selfish to think like that, but you couldn’t help but wish it was you.

“Dr. Grayson.” Yvonne warned, gesturing to you. “Don’t you have a surgery to get to?”

Grayson took the cue noticing your silent crying, pretending he was paged for something important, running away.

“There’s really nothing going on between them.” Yvonne tried to help you, patting your back. “There’s been new discoveries on Protocore syndrome treatments, and Jo is from the institute that made the discovery.”

You tried to stop the tears. Right, it couldn’t be helped. “It’s just… hard to be with someone like him.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “Someone who’s always going to be wanted by people who are more than me. I’ll make one mistake, and he can find another girl who’s better than me in every way, and will never make any. I don’t want to spend my life thinking I have to compete.”

“Ms. [Name].” Zayne’s voice spoke from above you, sending your already struggling heart into a frenzy. “Please see me in my room immediately.”

You looked up to see him walk away, into his office, the nurse beside him, apologising to you. “I tried to hide it from him, but he was furious when I didn’t tell him you were here.” She whispered. You told her it was okay, silently following him. He held the door to his office open for you, closing it behind him once the two of you were in.

“You might be mad at me, but did you really have to try and change doctors?”

“I didn’t want to waste your time.”

“Nonsense.” He looked back at you with furious eyes. His hair was a mess, he’d definitely not had enough sleep, and you could see a bit of stubble on his jaw. No matter what happened, Zayne would put effort into his appearance, but you’d never seen him like that before.

You wanted to say something, ask him if he was alright, but you could only take your place on the couch in his office.

“How long have you been experiencing this?” He asked sternly, still standing, looking at your chart.

“A week.”

He shot you an exasperated look. “A week? And you’re only coming here now?”

I didn’t want to face you. You wanted to confess, but you settled with “I thought it’d go away by itself.”

Zayne tried to calm himself down, placing the chart on the table, sitting down on his desk with his head in his hands. You didn’t have control over yourself as your legs walked over to him. Even if he liked someone else, you couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t help but reach for him, your hand lightly resting on his back.

“Zayne?”

“Can I hold you?” His voice was broken, pleading. You let out a soft ‘yes’, and he immediately pulled you into his lip, hugging you tightly.

Was Zayne… crying?

“You’re here.” He whispered, resting his face against your neck, nuzzling into it, tightening his protective hold. Even if you couldn’t hear it well, you felt his wet eyes. He still smelled of coffee and mint. “Please don’t leave me again. I thought I messed up for good. Please give me another chance.”

“I overreacted.” You put your hands in his hair, and he kissed your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He pulled away, holding you firmly on his lap with his large hands on your waist. “I didn’t understand how it must’ve looked to you. I’m away all the time, I don’t make time for you, but if it’s not you…” He looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s no one.”

Your heart felt less heavy, the pain easing into relief. You took a deep breath, but it still hurt your chest a little.

“And I’m sorry for what I said.“ He continued.

You teared up again. “Yeah, you should be. You have no idea how I felt.”

“I’ll win you back, if you’re not yet convinced.” He kissed you on your cheek, taking a handkerchief out of his bag to wipe away your tears. “Tell me, what do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“What I came for. A diagnosis for my heart.” You smiled.

Zayne turned red, clearing his throat, helping you off his lap but not letting go of your hand. “Of course. I need you to come with me to get some tests done.” He used his free hand to look at his notes on the chart.

“And after that, you’re coming home with me so I can make it all up to you.”

—x—

[chamomiletealeaf]

Omg I just thought of something for my fellow curly/black hair readers.

Going home with Simon after meeting him at a bar with your hair straightened, a tight little lowcut dress pushing your tits up and that you have to be careful bending over or lifting your arms too high in because it would expose your tiny panties and your ass hidden underneath it, and some strappy heels.

And god does Simon notice. He can’t keep his eyes off of you the entire night and the way you pull the hem of your dress down over your ass when it rides up. He’s already imagining bending you over and shoving his face into your clothed pussy from behind, letting your dress ride up to expose your ass.

He makes his move and he ends up in your bed a few hours later where you both cum like you haven’t in years. And when it’s time to shower, he invites you in with him.

“Oh- um- I can’t get my hair wet.” You say.

“Just put it up love it won’t get wet.” He responds, brushing a strand out of your face.

You both stand in the bathroom, water running and fogging up the room with the steam, and you don’t have long until the humidity starts to make your hair frizz up and shrink.

“Hm. I- no really I can’t. The humidity is-“

Simon laughs.

“Oh honey, you’re adorable. C’mon nothings gonna happen. You’ll live I promise.”

You looked at the way his body glistened with sweat and the steam from the room and you’d hate to miss out on seeing the water run down his rough, sexy body. You just gotta make sure your hair doesn’t betray you and give away your secret.

“Ok.” You relent.

Simon hugs and kisses you in the shower, running his hand up and down your body while you dodge your head out of water every time you get too close.

“You got a lot of brushes in here. What you got one for each strand?” He jokes.

You laugh nervously, hoping he won’t realize the dramatic ratio in shampoo to conditioner you have that would give away more of your secret.

“C’mon relax love. What’s the matter? I’ll get out if you’re uncomfortable.” He says concerningly.”

“No it’s- it’s not you, I just… you like me right? I’m pretty?” You ask.

“What? Love, I wouldn’t be here if I thought you weren’t, nothing’s gonna change that.”

“Nothing?”

He grips your chin and tilts your head up so you look into his eyes.

“Nothing. What are you an axe murderer or something?” He jokes with a smirk.

You giggle, feeling better.

“No.”

You bite your lip anticipating your next move, and you finally give in.

“Lemme get under the water for a second.”

And you move under the stream, soaking your hair. You watch how it shrinks up and curls, but Simon doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy watching the water run down your tits and how pretty your skin looks all sleek from the water.

After your shower, Simon goes back into your room and waits for you to finish up in the bathroom. Your hair is drying up, and you can’t leave it without styling it or at least putting in some leave-in conditioner, but doing all that would take too long, but it’s too late to hide it now.

After about 10 minutes Simon knocks on the door.

“Hun? You ok in there?”

“Yeah! Um- one second.” You panic, looking at the curls on your head refusing to work with you.

“You sure? You’ve been acting kinda weird. I know we just met but you don’t have to hide anything from me.” He says.

You put one of your styling brushes down and sigh. You might as well just let him see now. You really liked him, and if he didn’t like all of you, better to learn that sooner than later.

You walk over to the bathroom door and open it, still in your towel, and Simon doesn’t say anything.

You look up at him after a second and you see him wide eyed, a smile forming on his face.

“It- doesn’t usually look like this. I haven’t finished styling it so it’ll be better when-“

“I love it.” He cuts you off. “As if you couldn’t get any prettier.” He says as he cups your cheek.

“Is this why you were worried about the water?” He asks with a laugh.

“Um- yeah, I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh love, I would’ve made a move sooner if I knew this was what was hiding, not that you were any less sexy before.” He says, booping your nose.

You giggle, feeling a little stupid that you had no problem letting this stranger man fuck you senseless, but you were too nervous about him seeing your natural hair.

“You think it’s pretty now? Just wait till it dries. It’s just gonna get bigger.” You joke.

“Can’t fucking wait.” He says with an excited expression on his face, then he picks you up to bring you back to the bedroom where you both spend the rest of your night.

Hopefully this one night stand won’t be just that.

:)))))

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 9

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

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

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

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

You wake with a start from your dreams of intruder bears and scattering birds. The night’s been no more restful than the one before. Your mind is a whirlwind, mashing together visions of reality and anxieties of tomorrow. 

Another thunk has you sitting up with a huh trapped in your throat. You rub the stitch from between your brows as you groggily shake your head. It’s so early, the windows are grey blue and grim. What the hell is that? 

You get up and go to the window as the noise comes again. Bucky stands over a stack of long boards near the shed. You frown. What is he doing and where did those come from? 

He turns and you give a start. He sees you between the curtains and gives a two fingered salute. You lift your hand stiffly and quickly turn away. You grab a zip sweater and pull it on, hiding in the baggy fabric. You’re all too aware of the brush of your hard nipples against your thin tee. 

You head out through the fog of your unceremonious awakening and open the back door to peer out. Bucky appears from around the side of the house, carrying a stack of half a dozen boards easily. He sets them with the rest and faces you. 

“What’s all this?” You cross your arms, chattering in the brisk morning. 

“You need a fence,” he says. 

His answer is annoying. It’s half an explanation. 

“Okay, and... where exactly did you get all this wood?” 

“Your neighbours recommended a guy; Maurice?” 

“Maurice,” you repeat. The old man doesn’t have much else going on. He’s always happy to deliver. “Right.” 

“Give me something to keep busy,” he shrugs. 

“Makes sense,” you rub your cheek. 

“Coffee in the pot. Should be warm still,” he comes toward you. “Did I wake you up?” 

You shake your head. It doesn’t matter. You weren’t sleeping well. 

“Thanks. You want more?” You point to the mug on the small wooden stool. 

“Good for now,” he assures you. 

You nod and turn away. You stop halfway. You withhold a sigh, “hey, thanks. You don’t have to... do all this.” 

“It should save you having to witness another wrestling match,” he says. 

“Right,” you scoff. 

You go inside and pause on the other side of the door. Did he overhear your conversation with Sam? Is that what he meant? Even if he did, you didn’t say anything bad. You only told Sam that the man he left on your couch is fighting the wild. 

You pour yourself a coffee and drink it alone, grateful for the moment to yourself. You hear the wood clatter outside in a steady rhythm. Just long enough for him to make a trip between the back and front lawn. 

If he’s busy, that means you can be. You’ll get some work done while he’s outside. You have some toast as you get everything set up then sink into your focus. It’s all simple. You have it by rote. You save as much as you can, not trusting your connection to maintain the cloud’s autosave. 

You get up to make another coffee and nearly shriek. You didn’t notice the sudden silence. No wood falling, no footsteps. Bucky stands in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes on you. 

“You looked... intent, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says. 

“Right,” you shake off the fright and go to the counter, “want more coffee?” 

“Sure. If you’re busy, I can take care of it,” he nears you as he speaks. 

“I can handle it. Won’t take me very long.” 

“I don’t mind,” he gets closer and closer. 

“Really, it’ll take five minutes. I need the break--” 

He sidles behind you as you reach for the canister but he’s quicker. He swipes it out of your grasp. You feel him behind you, penning you in as he snatches up the coffee ewer with his other hand. 

“Hey, I’m the one crashing. Trying not to feel useless here,” he insists. 

You grip the counter, suffocated by his closeness. 

“That’s nice, but...” You press your elbow into his side, a soft nudge to say, back up. He doesn’t. “Can you--” 

“How long you been here alone?” He asks, standing strong like a wall behind you. You lean forward, trying to make space. 

“Bucky--” 

He moves aside casually and sets down the coffee and he brings the carafe to the sink and rinses it out. “Kinda eerie, isn’t it? In the city, there’s always noise. Up here, the silence is... dense, don’t you think?” 

“I guess,” you agree quietly as you quickly retreat from the counter. That was strange. He can be a bit... odd but that was very obvious not normal. 

“I had to walk thirty minutes just to get to your neighbour. All those trees too, they’ll catch the sound,” he speaks as he weighs out the coffee grounds. “You ever run through a forest before? And that one’s dark even in the day. If you’re not dodging trees, you gotta make sure there aren’t roots to trip over.” 

You’re quiet as you listen, unsettled. Why is he saying all this? 

“And well, you gotta worry about whatever’s in there to chase you, don’t you? Bears, coyotes... you got wolves around here?” He asks. 

You clear your throat, “I... I think so.” 

“Mm, and they hunt in packs. Mostly. But even one is dangerous.” He fills the water tank as you stare at his back. “If they get you, they go for the shoulder and flanks. Get your strongest tendons. Can’t move your arms, can’t fight. Can’t move your legs, can’t run...” 

“I’ve never seen any though...” you croak. 

“Wolves don’t really chase their prey though, they stalk it. The prey doesn’t even know it’s being hunted. They sneak up so they don’t have to run.” Like he sneaks up? “Take their time.” 

You chew your lip. You look around and listen. It is really quiet. The click of a button makes you wince. 

Bucky turns to you. You blink and quickly turn to your computer. Just a glance and the vision of him is stamped in your head. The tension in his jaw, the glint in his eyes, and that shadow that seems cast by his aura alone. 

You’re pretty sure he’s not talking about real wolves. 

[buckevantommy]

What about all of this is real? We are.

This is not how they end. 

It hasn’t even been a week but it feels like a fucking eternity. It’s not the first time Buck’s been dumped, not the first time someone has walked out on him when he wanted more, but it’s the worst heartache he’s ever felt and he knows– he knows it’s because this isn’t how things are supposed to go for them. 

He’s done feeling sorry for himself. He’s not giving up on Tommy, on what they have together. 

And he doesn’t think Tommy is done with them, either. 

* 

The drive to Tommy’s house isn’t fast but it passes in a blur; between the peak hour traffic and usual gridlock he has plenty of time to ruminate on everything he wants to say, and all the arguments Tommy can throw at him and all the ways Buck can rebut them. 

Pulling into the drive, he doesn’t notice the unfamiliar car parked next to Tommy’s truck. He’s walking up the front path and knocking with insistent force before he even registers leaving the jeep. He’s on a mission. 

Soon as the door opens Buck is barging his way inside. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me or how I feel!” 

With a resigned, if somewhat bitchy sigh, Tommy mutters, “Come on in,” and closes the door behind him. 

“I know how I feel about you and it isn’t some passing infatuation, Tommy– I love you!” He goes harder than he means to, and heavier on the blame, but he thinks he gets the main points across. 

Tommy stares at him for a moment, not saying anything. Buck starts getting restless again. If Tommy has nothing to say to that then Buck has plenty more. He gears up to lay the rest of his cards on the table–

When someone clears their throat behind him. 

Buck whips around to find a strange man standing in Tommy’s living room, beer bottle in hand. 

“Oh.” A pang of something ugly lances through Buck’s heart. “Guess you moved on faster than I did,” he mutters darkly.

The mystery man cracks a humorless laugh. “Not fucking likely.” 

Buck doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Sal Deluca,” the man says, stepping forward and extending his hand. Buck takes it, incandescent jealousy and the throbbing heartache that’s made breathing difficult all week making way for a numb sort of recognition. He’s heard mentions of Sal, and the face clicks with some old photos he’s seen in Tommy’s photo albums; because Tommy’s old school like that and has printed photos in physical albums people can flip through. Sal is an old friend of his who moved away years ago. “Worked with this lug back at the 118,” he says. “And we are not boning or romancin’ each other.” 

Buck catches Tommy rolling his eyes. 

“In fact, I’m in town for the first time in almost a year and what do I find? This idiot throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” 

“Sal.” 

Sal ignores Tommy’s warning tone, trains his eyes on Buck, his voice pitched low and sincere. “I don’t even know you, but I know that much.” 

He leaves with a clap to Tommy’s shoulder and something muttered that sounds like, “Don’t screw this up again,” and then he’s out the door. 

“You should go,” Tommy says quietly, when it’s just the two of them standing there, too far apart.

Now that Buck gets a better look at him, Tommy looks tired. Ragged. Like he hasn’t slept in a week. Buck can relate. “No.”

“Buck–”

“Don’t you dare.” He tries sounding fierce but it just comes out broken. He’s never been ‘Buck’ to Tommy and he sure as hell doesn’t wanna start now. That name means they’re over, and he’s not letting that happen without a fight. “I said, I love you.”

“I heard you.”

“And, what? You don’t believe me? Or you think I’m too dumb to know when I’m in love with someone?”

“I never said that–”

“I’ve been in love before, Tommy– more than once. And just because they were women and you’re the first guy I fell for doesn’t make what I feel any less real!” 

“But it doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”

He sounds tired, too. Like maybe he’s been up all night every night thinking about them. Maybe he leaned on Sal like Buck’s been leaning on Eddie; a good friend who lets you pour your heart out until there’s nothing left but a hollow ache in your chest, drained eyes and confusion. 

But the worst part is how resigned he seems, like it’s over and there’s nothing to be done about it. There’s a lot Tommy hasn’t thought through properly. 

“I may be new to being bisexual, but that doesn’t mean my heart is new. And frankly, it’s pretty insulting of you to assume I don’t know what I’m feeling, or how I’ll feel months or years from now.” 

That seems to land like a blow, Tommy’s already creased brow pinching as he looks away. “You don’t have experience with men–” 

And that fucking does it. “I’m not a kid, Tommy! I don’t need you to tell me what I need! And I’m not any of those guys who hurt you– doesn’t matter if they were gay, or bi, or whatever!” Buck wants to yell at him some more: call him a coward, an asshole for predicting the worst in people.  

Tommy shakes his head. He still doesn’t look at Buck.

“You don’t get to just end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works– we’re supposed to talk about it.” It’s been a constant in their relationship: talking things through. It’s the first relationship Buck’s had with such an open and honest line of communication, and there’s no way he could go back to anything else. 

Tommy looks up, then, and meets Buck’s gaze. His eyes are watery and his words come out choked. “I don’t want to end this.” 

“Then don’t,” Buck pleads, daring to close a bit of the distance between them. 

Tommy pulls back. Not far, and not much with his feet, more with his shoulders, but it’s enough to make Buck’s heart sink. 

Because Tommy is denying himself – like that night before he first kissed Buck and changed his life for the better; he was so hesitant to believe that he was part of their team, too – he’s not letting himself have something good because he doesn’t think he deserves it, doesn’t think it’s real. “We’re not too good to be true.”

“What?” 

“You said that, about the parking space,” Buck recalls. He’s run the conversation over in his head a thousand times since that night.

“That’s.. not what I meant.” Tommy seems less convinced by his own words, now. 

“Every other relationship I’ve had has fallen apart because I didn’t see the end coming,” Buck admits. “Because we weren’t compatible. And part of me was worried with you, at first, because I’d always been the one who ends up alone.” It’s painful to think about, to think Tommy could be just another in a long line of people Buck wore his heart on his sleeve for but who didn’t want him as much in return. “But you kept proving to me over, and over that you were there for me, and you wanted me around, and you didn’t think I was too much.” Buck has to swallow around the desperate rasp coming through in his voice now. He blinks to keep his vision clear.

There’s something there, then: a look on Tommy’s face telling him plainly that he could never be too much for him, that that’s not what this about. And there’s something else familiar, too: fear. The same glimpse of fear Buck saw that night before Tommy walked out on him. The same kind of fear Buck’s seen in the mirror his whole life. 

Tommy’s afraid they won’t last. 

Tommy’s afraid he’s not enough. 

“Please don’t think like that,” Buck pleads again. “Like there’s an expiration date for us.” 

“I can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can!” Buck erupts again, frustrated with how willing Tommy is to just roll over and let their relationship die. “Just believe in us! Tell me what I have to do to get you to believe how serious I am about you– how much I care about you, and see you for who you are, and want all of you for as long as possible.” 

Tommy shakes his head, eyes downcast, and Buck can’t take it anymore– he closes the remaining distance between them. Stands toe to toe with Tommy, proximity alone silently demanding he listen to what he has to say.

“Hey,” he says softly, but with that same dogged determination that’s been distilled over the years into something less reckless and more mindful. He curls a finger under Tommy’s chin, gently nudging it up until he looks at him. 

There’s armor in place, but Tommy’s peeking through. And he hasn’t moved away. He hasn’t given up, not completely. He needs Buck to fight for them, to know they’re worth fighting for. Maybe then he’ll finally believe they can make it.

“I love you. I’ve been searching my whole life for a love like this, so don’t tell me this isn’t real– I know how I feel,” Buck insists, then calms. “And I think you feel the same.” 

“Evan–”

“You don’t get to end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works. And I’m not giving up on us. So you can fight me, or you can fight for us.” 

Tommy exhales a shaky breath, averting his eyes again. Buck can see the tears making them wet, tracking down his cheeks as he ducks his head. He can hear them in the way Tommy’s voice wavers. “You think too highly of me, kid.” It’s not a jab, the name. Tommy’s protecting his vulnerable underbelly. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Tommy takes a beat. “I want to,” he confesses, quiet in the small space where their bodies don’t touch, could touch but not yet; he’s holding his breath. 

Buck braces himself. “Do you love me?” It’s a simple question, one he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to. But those few seconds before Tommy speaks are nerve wracking as hell and long enough for a thread of doubt to try to weave its way back into his mind – the same doubt he’d finally quashed before he jumped in his jeep and drove across town: what if he read this all wrong? What if Tommy doesn’t actually love him? His own breath catches painfully in his lungs; he’s on a precipice, heart balanced for a freefall that could see him plummet to the ground, or.. or spread wings, and.. fly. 

Tommy lifts his head, his beautiful eyes rimmed red and making his irises that much bluer by contrast. “Evan, I’m so in love with you,” he breathes out; a sigh of anguish, like truth and painful honesty, airing grievance out into the world so that it might ease the weight sitting on his chest, the kind that makes it hard to breath, hard to exist. “You’ll be the death of me, kid.” 

It’s not the first time he’s said that, although the other times were under very different circumstances. But it was always playful, and Buck can see the words for what they are now: a defense mechanism. Buck’s heart aches for him, but Tommy’s admission also sets something aglow in his own chest, something warm and pure and precious. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do know it. We’ve both been hurt before– but we don’t need to hurt each other. And, I get it– you were trying to protect yourself when you walked out on me that night.”

Tommy moves to turn away, ends up just shuffling in place. He still wants to be close to Buck. 

“Why can’t we just try? ‘Cause if you think you’re the only one who’d be heartbroken if this doesn’t work out, you’re wrong.” He’s realized some things this past week: he doesn’t adhere to whatever bullshit stereotype there is about men who are bi or people who come to terms with their queerness later in life – he doesn’t need to play the field or experiment or whatever crap Tommy tried to pass off as reason enough to justify his fears. He also realized that he loves Tommy – more than he’s ever loved anyone, more than he thought was possible to love someone but maybe always secretly hoped was in his future, even when that dark voice in his head tried to convince him no one would ever love him as much. 

But Tommy does. Tommy loves him so much the thought of Buck breaking up with him scared him into ending things before he could get his own heart broken. But what he feels for Tommy isn’t some kind of puppy love or something he’ll grow out of or get bored of; it’s real, and Tommy thinking he’s not enough, that he’s not forever-kind-of-love material doesn’t dissuade Buck any; he’s intimately familiar with issues of self worth.

Whatever insecurities Tommy has about being someone’s last love doesn’t apply to Buck. “You’re enough, for me. You’re everything, actually. Everything I ever wanted and more I didn’t know I could want.” 

A heavy moment passes between them where Buck sees his words sink in. They seem to weigh Tommy down, even more. 

He wants so badly to reach out, to speak the words into his mouth, press them into his skin until Tommy can’t deny how real they are because he’ll feel them with every breath, every movement.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Tommy admits, voice soft and more vulnerable than Buck’s ever heard it. “I can’t lose you, Evan. If you ask me to try, and then–” he cuts himself off, shakes the thought away, tries to barricade himself back behind his armor. 

Maybe Buck can’t fully understand Tommy’s fear because he hasn’t experienced what he has, but he knows what it’s like to try and fail, to love and be left. But the two of them are on the same page this time – for everything that matters – not reading from separate books like Buck and all of his exes. “Did I ever tell you about Thomas and Mitchell?” 

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Friends of yours?” Buck can see Tommy’s still raw, still hiding, but he goes along with it, gives him the opening, like he’s always done.

“No, they uh.” Buck swallows, the memory still affects him even all these years later. “They were an elderly gay couple I met on a call a few years back. Well, I met Thomas. Sat with him after he watched his husband die.” 

Tommy tries to look unimpressed with having to listen to a sad story – he’s more of a romcom guy; lighthearted storylines and happy endings, Buck knows – but his face crumples a bit in sympathy. 

“He said, Mitchell was his heart, and that they wanted to go together. I could see how heartbroken he was, and the thought of loving someone like that and then losing them? I couldn’t imagine what that must be like.” 

Tommy doesn’t say it but Buck can almost hear his gently snarky tone: we’re not dead, Evan. He can see the words held back behind the purse of Tommy’s lips. 

“I told him I hoped to find a love like that some day. And he told me something I’ve carried with me ever since.” Tommy searches his face, and Buck feels the truth of Old Thomas’ words in this moment. “He said: you don’t find it, you make it.” 

Tommy blinks. “Are you saying you want to grow old with me?”

Buck can’t help his smile; it’s the first real one he’s had because of Tommy all week– one not tinged in pain and regret. There’s the Tommy he knows and loves. “I’m saying, I want to make it with you. Because these past six months have been the best of my life, Tommy. And I realized it’s because I found you– my person– and I want to make a future with you.” 

And there’s that tentative smile – the same one Tommy wore on their makeup coffee date all those months ago when he gave Buck a second chance. 

They deserve a second chance, now. They deserve to try. 

“I can’t move in with you,” Tommy settles on, and it sounds like a but, like: I can’t move in with you, but I want to be with you. 

Buck shakes his head before Tommy even finishes. “That’s okay, we don’t have to live together.” He knows the unspoken yet doesn’t go unnoticed for the way Tommy’s narrowed eyes assess him. There’s no use hiding it. “I do want to live with you, some day. I want to build a life with you. But, we can take it slow.”

“I don’t think ‘slow’ is in your repertoire.” It’s a joke. Tommy’s smile is less fragile, his armor lowered. 

Buck smiles again, hopeful; Tommy’s coming out of hiding. 

He reaches out, fingertips grazing Tommy’s, his movements unhurried. Tommy lets him tangle their fingers together. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Okay.” 

Buck’s falling, diving, soaring. And he’s not alone. “Would a kiss be out of the question right now?” 

That crinkly smile that Buck loves so much finally makes its return, creasing around Tommy’s eyes like rays of sunshine. He didn’t realize just how much he missed the sight of Tommy’s joy until he’s faced with it head on, bright and gorgeous. He feels nourished in its presence, especially knowing he’s the cause of it. He thinks it’s okay to be a little proud of that. 

Tommy kisses him. Oh– this.. he’s missed this: the press of Tommy’s lips on his, his stubble scraping against Buck’s skin– catching on Buck’s own scruff. He slides a hand up Tommy’s chest, feeling the warm, toned bulk of him. Hooks his fingers around Tommy’s neck to pull him in more, bring their bodies flush, slip his tongue into Tommy’s mouth and get a proper taste of him.

One of Tommy’s large hands fits tentatively to Buck’s hip, one last show of hesitance. Buck disentangles their fingers and covers both of Tommy’s hands, moving them to rest heavier, grip him firmly, with no room for uncertainty.

“No more running away,” Buck murmurs, nose brushing alongside Tommy’s. He feels more than sees Tommy shake his head.

“No more running,” he agrees, following with another lingering kiss that’s begging to be deepened.

Buck breaks it to add: “We’re in this together.” 

Tommy nods. “I’m with you.”

It’s not how he thought their first love confessions would go, but they’ll be stronger for it, he knows that much. And he knows Tommy loves him. And Tommy knows Buck loves him in return. And that’s a pretty good starting place for a second chance. 

[hippiegoth97]

Random Spencer Reid Thought #1

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, fem!reader, bau!reader, new relationship, sex at work, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, no use of Y/N, caught in the act (kinda, at the end), fluff

Some Tags: @hotwritergf @melodymunson @rafeyscurtainbangs @mediocredreams @loserboysandlithium

@bloodibambiidoll @littlexdeaths @sanctumdemunson @cairro-xx @veemoon (tbh I wasn't sure who all to tag, so I tagged some moots and people I know usually read my stuff. Feel free to ignore if it's not your thing tho lol)

"I swear to god, you're gonna get us caught one of these days, Reid." You say breathlessly, tugging on Spencer's tie to keep his lips close to yours. You'd dragged him into a nearby supply closet after the rest of the team had dispersed for lunch, most of them heading to a new BBQ place nearby. They'd asked you and Spencer to come along, but you've both had much more pressing things on your mind.

From the second you came in this morning (separately, of course, even though he'd stayed the night at your place), your eyes have wandered from your work to each other's desks from across the cluster. It's been absolute torture, forced to sit so far apart, unable to touch each other or whisper all the dirty things you plan to do later. All you had to get yourself by was vivid thoughts of Spencer tossing his papers away, stalking over to you, and bending you over your desk to fuck you silly. You're sure he was picturing similar filthy things, given how often he cleared his throat and crossed or uncrossed his legs. Although, the ideas inside his head are usually more centered around getting down on his knees and burying his face between your thighs. It's a wonder that nobody seemed to notice your discomfort, really. The amount of stolen glances and fidgeting in your seats are certainly behaviors that should set off a profiler's internal alarms. But, thus far, you've managed to fly just below everyone's radar.

You've been seeing each other for a few months now, keeping it a secret from everybody else. It started off as a fluke date shortly after you joined the BAU team, and Spencer took a shine to your quick wit and bottomless well of intellect in no time at all. He'd asked you out for coffee (after a barrage of peer-pressuring encouragement from Morgan), wanting to show you around a bit as you were new to the area at the time. Spencer was a complete gentleman, opening the door for you, pulling out your chair, offering you his jacket when you got cold. Add on the way you talked one another's ears off about everything under the sun, moon and stars, and you were hooked on each other in an instant. Neither of you had met anyone who could keep up, or maintain your interest before. By the time he walked you home that night, you shared in the knowledge that this...spark you felt was something special.

Things progressed rather quickly from there. You've gone out together at least once a week, even sneaking out at night during cases to get some quality time in. A dinner here, a tipsy make-out in either of your hotel rooms there, as well as more educational outings to the planetarium, various lectures, and art exhibits when you're at home base. It didn't take long to heat things up, either. Spencer was less experienced than you, having only a couple casual hook-ups under his belt, which went as awkwardly as one would expect. But you were patient with him, showing him what you like and what you don't, helping him figure out the same for himself. It was a simultaneously experimental and exhilarating experience for you both when you finally had sex the first time.

And now, here you are, all wandering hands and moaning mouths in a closet full of office supplies. Spencer's got you sitting on a metal filing cabinet, legs spread in your pencil skirt as he stands between them. His large hands grip and squeeze your thighs, while he rolls his hips to press his erection against your clothed cunt. "Don't act as if the idea of getting found out doesn't turn you on." Spencer teases, smiling against your lips as you tug him forward into another kiss.

"Maybe a little." You admit, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes drift closed, and you feel his hand slowly slip further down your leg and under your skirt. His lithe fingers pull your panties to the side, rubbing sensual circles around your clit. You moan down his throat, your own hands reaching blindly for his belt now. You don't have a lot of time, as much as you hate to rush this.

"We should tell them soon. It's only a matter of time before they catch on." Spencer suggests, slipping two fingers into your soaked pussy with ease. The sound he ends up swallowing from your lungs makes his dick twitch inside his pants. Never in his life did he think he'd be so lucky to find a woman like you, or a woman at all, for that matter. Spencer enjoys every moment spent with you like it's his last, and it's been nice existing in this safe romantic bubble. But sneaking around has its disadvantages, namely having to keep his hands to himself when you're around the team. Far be it from Reid to be unprofessional in any sense, but, fuck, it's so hard to behave when you're around.

"I know, Penelope's been dropping lots of extra hints lately." You say with a light laugh, your insides boiling as Spencer curls his digits inside of you. They're perfectly long and slender, reaching all the right places every time. He's made you come with them alone on many occasions.

"I noticed. She's not very subtle." Reid chuckles, his gaze drifting down as you manage to get his belt unfastened. You waste no time in undoing to button and zip, reaching inside his boxers to grab hold of his aching length. According to you, he's very well endowed. Even though he's aware the average size of male genitalia is 5.1 inches when erect, he's never gotten curious enough to measure himself. A brief visual guess probably puts him at around seven or eight, not that he's all that concerned about it. All he cares about it making you happy, and his mind is far too vast to be fixated on how long his cock is.

"I don't think she ever has been." You comment, eyes focused on Spencer's dick in your grasp. He's rock solid, his tip rosy pink and leaking pearlescent precum. The sight makes your pussy throb around Reid's fingers. If you had more time, you'd drop to your knees in an instant.

"And that's why we love her." Spencer adds, groaning as you stroke him nice and slow. The both of you keep this up for a moment, zeroing in on one another's most sensitive areas that you've craved all day. Soft sighs and moans leave your mouths, mingling with the wet schlick sounds of your foreplay. "But, enough about the team." He says softly, meeting your gaze. His free hand cups your cheek, drawing you in closer as you stare into his beautiful brown eyes. "This moment is just for us." He nearly whispers as he kisses you deeply, lovingly. Neither of you have dropped the 'L' word yet, though you both certainly feel it for one another. But the time to say it definitely isn't during a lunchtime quickie in a damn closet. The occasion will present itself, at a later date.

While Spencer has your attention captured in the kiss, he gently takes his cock from your grasp and into his own. He gasps against you, tangling his tongue with yours to make your knees weak, just like you taught him. He gives his dick a couple fervent strokes, taking his fingers out of your cunt so he can line himself up. You whine at the loss, though your stomach twists in anticipation of what will soon take their place. Using his pruned fingers to hold your panties to the side, the sticky tip of Spencer's cock nudges against your center. More moans brew within your throats, kept hidden inside to prevent you from being discovered.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands tangling in his hair as you melt into him. His lips and tongue make you feel dizzy with lust, and his cockhead rutting against your folds is sending you into orbit. "Spence, please. I need you, baby." You plead between desperate kisses.

"I need you, too, you have no idea." Reid replies, pulling back just a moment so he can see what he's doing. He positions his dick at your entrance, and pushes inside at an agonizing pace. Low moans escape you both, you at the stretch, and him at the squeeze. "Fuck, you're so wet." Spencer says, trying to keep his cool.

"All for you, Spence." You say sweetly, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him as close to you as possible with your legs. His hands return to your thighs, holding on tight as he begins to thrust.

Spencer starts off slow, watching as his cock pumps in and out of your pussy with no resistance. Your arousal makes him all shiny in the dim light, already forming a creamy ring around his base. "God, you're perfect." He exhales, unable to think of a single thing that looks as beautiful as this. The two of you, becoming one, your interlocking parts sculpted by nature to fit together flawlessly. Nothing within his expansive memory could possibly compare.

"So are you, baby. Can you go faster? We're running out of time." You beg pathetically, needing this release before you inevitably have to go back to work filling out papers and looking over crime scene photos.

"I hate how right you are about that." Spencer replies with a broken sigh, picking up speed with his thrusts. The infallibly accurate internal clock you share is ticking down, every push of his hips against yours marking each second that's taken from you. He plants his lips on yours again, focusing on giving you what those desperate noises you're making are telling him. You need him, all of him. Every last inch rutting into your sopping cunt until you see stars. And when it comes to you, Reid always aims to please.

"Fuck, Spence, just like that." You pant between fervent kisses, marveling at the way his cock pounds into your g-spot with flawless precision. The coil of arousal you've been building up since you sat down with your coffee this morning ripples and tangles with every thrust.

It becomes rather difficult for Spencer to keep kissing you when his pace picks up even more. His head falls forward, resting on your shoulder as he continues to wind you both up towards ecstasy. He turns his head slightly, hatching the naughty idea to speak lowly in your ear. "I can't wait until we get home later, and I can take my time with you." He says, trying so hard not to let the loud groans he wants to emit come through. They come out as hushed whimpers instead, which only turns you on more.

"Fuck." You let out a small noise of your own, muted as you bite down on your lower lip. But he hears it all the same, and keeps going.

"I'll spend all night touching you in all your favorite places, fuck you until the sun comes up, make you cry out for me as many times as you ask me to." His words are equally filthy and adoring, showing you just how much he wants to worship you and your body. Chills run up and down your spine as he speaks, his breath burning hot against your neck. It's nearly too much, and yet, you can't enough.

"God, Spence, please don't stop!" You moan, far too loudly.

"Now who's gonna get us caught?" Reid teases, even though the way you squealed nearly made him blow his load entirely.

"Sorry...sorry..." You pant the words out, for fear of being too loud again.

"It's okay, baby. I like knowing just how good I make you feel." He coos to you, almost sending you over the edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly in warning. His breath catches at the sensation, right there with you in terms of how close you are to reaching climax. "God, that's it...you're so close, so am I. Gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel so good, I swear...so fucking good..." Spencer's mind sprints faster than his mouth can get the words out, barely audible as he buries himself further into your neck. He slams himself into you even harder, faster, chasing his release and dragging you alongside him.

"Spencer, oh my god." You gasp as he hits that perfect place inside you cunt even better than before, his hips pounding against yours hard enough to leave bruises. His hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck in a feverish need to make you lose control. It's definitely working, the waves of bliss beginning to roll over you in thick crashes. "Oh, god, make me cum, baby...don't stop, you feel so good..." You babble mindlessly as your insides flutter around Reid's dick, threatening to clamp down on him at any moment. "Fuck, oh, I'm gonna cum...oh, god- fuck...oh, spenceSpenceSPENCE!" You clap a hand over your mouth to conceal your scream as your orgasm takes hold. You tremble violently in Spencer's grip, your pussy strangling him with all its might. Stars blur your vision, pure pleasure coursing through your veins at lightning speed. You cling to him, nails clawing at his back, heels digging into his ass helplessly.

"Fuck-ing- god." Spencer stutters out as you squeeze him so tight, biting down hard into your neck to muffle the load groan rushing from his chest. He pierces you sloppily through his release, painting your eager walls with thick ropes of sticky white, hips stuttering and feral grunts leaving him with every stab of his spent cock. He gradually comes to a stop as your shared high subsides, pulling his softening length from you, watching as your mixed release flows from your now-sore cunt. He reaches into his pocket for a kerchief he keeps for such occasions, gazing adoringly into your lust-drunk eyes as he cleans you up. He would use his mouth, if there were time for such things.

You gasp as the soft fabric meets your puffy lips, never breaking Spencer's stare while he takes care of you. You've never felt more in love in your life than you do right now, with your legs still spread wide open, while this gorgeous, scrawny, genius wipes your combined spend away. Once you're all clean, he pulls your skirt back down over your legs, and puts his flaccid cock inside his pants, fastening the belt with casual ease. He helps you down from the cabinet, noting your wobbling legs as you stand in your sensible heels.

"All set?" He asks, earning a giggle from you as his hair has become more of a mess than usual.

"Almost." You say softly, smoothing down his unruly locks to look more presentable, and less like you two just went to town on each other over lunch. "Well, we'd better get back out there. The others should be arriving back now." You say, heading for the door first. You hate to leave at all, but the last thing you need is to get caught right now.

"I'll wait the three minutes, and meet you back in there." Three minutes, the amount of time you'd determined was appropriate enough to excuse you both coming back to the bullpen near the same time without raising suspicion. No one bats an eye at three minutes difference. It could be explained away as a coffee refill, a bathroom break, anything really. But returning at the same time? Or leaving this small room at the same time? Out of the question. You'd made the mistake of returning at the same time once, and you didn't hear the end of it from the team for a good three days, despite the assertion that you and Reid had been in separate places at the time.

"Okay. See you then." You nod, giving him a quick kiss. You open the door, checking to see if the coast is clear. Satisfied with your findings, you step out from the closet, closing the door behind you. You're about to turn and walk in the direction of the bullpen, when you end up smack dab in front of Penelope. You have no idea where she came from just now, or how long she's been hiding out. But the sly smirk on her face tells you she knows enough. "Hey, Garcia. How was your lunch?" You ask nervously, failing to play it cool.

"Oh, it was good. I brought some leftover eggplant parmesan from home." Penelope replies, nearly bursting with the knowledge that you and Reid have indeed been hooking up, as she rightly suspected. "How was yours?" She asks coyly, biting her lip as she expects you to spill all the gory details she couldn't hear through the door.

"It was...fine. I packed a lunch as well." You answer, clearing your throat.

"Oh, I'm sure you packed something. What did you have? Some sausage maybe? Or a footlong?" Penelope continues to tease, and at this point, you know the jig is up.

"Oh, alright! Yes, I did! You happy now?" You exclaim, rolling your eyes as your arms cross out of reflex.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Garcia chuckles, doing one of the dorkiest victory dances you've ever seen. The few passersby give her a sideways glance, but she doesn't pay them any mind.

"Okay, okay!" You put your hands on her shoulders to still her, meeting her eyes. "Look, can you just promise me you won't say anything? Spencer and I plan to tell everyone when the time is right, but we like keeping this thing to ourselves for now. Alright?" You implore with her to keep her mouth shut, for your sake, as your friend, and Spencer's.

"Yeah, I can do that." She nods in understanding, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm so happy for you guys!" She squeals, getting excited again.

"Thanks, Garcia. I appreciate that." You smile, returning her embrace.

"So do I." Spencer says from the other side of the door.

"You better treat her right, pretty boy! Or mama is gonna get you!" Penelope warns with all the love in the world.

"I fully intend to." Spencer replies, and you can practically see his lovesick expression from out here, and how his eyes must be looking straight at where he imagines you're standing, meaning every one of those four simple words.

[cinna-stars]

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader - MDNI

18+ Trafalgar Law Ghostface SMUT - ABSOLUTE FILTH below the cut

Word Count: 3.3k

This is my first time writing in a few years. This was a self indulgent piece after seeing this art from hunnismoker on Instagram:

Trigger Warnings: 18+ MDNI, this is your last warning!

Knife play, Choking, Law has a potty mouth, Penetrative sex, Dacryphilia, Blowjob, Face fucking, Mask kink, Ghostface mask, Shachi being a little perv at the end

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Trafalgar Law, your boyfriend and Captain of the Heart Pirates, was acting more quiet than usual. Which was somewhat concerning, given that he was already one of the most stoic people you had ever met. It had started after you had come to him with the proposition of bringing a Ghostface mask into the bedroom. "I don't want to hurt you" was his initial response. It wasn't until you noticed a white mask in his dresser drawer that you realized he had been considering your request. You gently pulled it out, running your fingers over the smooth surface. Law's eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of you holding the mask.

"I... I got it for you," he admitted quietly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "But I'm still not sure about this."

You smiled softly, touched by his thoughtfulness despite his reservations. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, Law. I appreciate that you even considered it."

He stepped closer, taking the mask from your hands and examining it. "It's not that I'm uncomfortable," he said slowly. "I'm just concerned about losing control. The thought of potentially harming you, even in play..."

“ I trust you, Law. And if at any point either of us wants to stop, we will. No questions asked."

He brings his hand to his chin, rubbing slowly, gazing off pensively for a few moments. “Okay. Let’s try this.” He lifts the Ghostface mask to hover in front of his face.

“How do you want me to initiate this… and when?” He questions in a slightly deeper, more sultry tone than normal. Even the illusion of him wearing the mask has your heart racing and core heated, the question sending shivers of excitement through your body.

“I feel like the element of surprise adds to it, so, whenever you’re ready, Captain.” you grin. His golden eyes peer through the mask and examine the joy on your face.

He moves his free hand to ghost over your throat, pulsing his grip ever so slightly and leaning to your ear. “That’s Mr. Ghostface to you.”

A small whimper escapes from your lips and you hear a light chuckle from Law. “Something tells me this is going to be enjoyable for the both of us.”

A few days pass, and the anticipation of finding Law lurking around any corner wearing the mask that he had bought filled you with both lust and anticipation. He had teased you with it a couple of times, leaving it in places for you to find it, such as the bathroom mirror whilst you were taking a shower, and hanging from the back of his door in the dark of night. Needless to say, he had started to gain just as much excitement from the prospect of fucking you in the mask as you had seeing him in it.

Tonight, Law had advised he was going to be working until the early hours of the morning in his office. This wasn’t irregular for him, especially as of late. So, you decided to sit on the sofa in his quarters and watch a film, hoping to try and stay awake for his return. The film you chose was not particularly of interest, and your eyes started feeling heavy. Just as you lean your head back on the sofa, you hear footsteps approaching.

Your eyes snap open, suddenly alert. The footsteps are slow, deliberate. Not Law's usual confident stride. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize what's happening.

The door creaks open slowly. You hold your breath, heart pounding. A figure emerges from the shadows, tall and imposing. He still wore his normal attire, the usual black t-shirt and dark jeans, but over his face he wore the white mask. The smooth plastic gleams in the dim light from the TV screen. You also notice what you think is a small black hilt tucked into his waistband.

The footsteps continue slowly in your direction, and you lift your head up to watch his figure approaching. You swallow hard, a mix of fear and arousal flooding your system. "Mr. Ghostface," you whisper, playing along.

He stalks towards you, movements predatory. "You've been a naughty girl, waiting up for me. Don't you know it's dangerous to be alone at night?"

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-” he cuts you off, closing the distance between you. With a sudden change of speed, he straddles you where you sit. His bare hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, but firmly holding you in place. "Shh," he hisses through the mask. "No excuses."

Your breath catches as he presses you against the sofa. Even through his jeans, you can feel the heat radiating from Law's body. His free hand trails down your side, sending shivers through you.

You remain silent, watching as he tilts his head in that eerie Ghostface manner, his curious hand finding purchase on the waist of your silk pyjama shorts.

You whimper softly, torn between playing the scared victim and showing how aroused you already are. "Please," you whisper, not even sure what you're begging for.

He chuckles darkly. "Please what? Please let you go?" You paw at his hand and nod vigorously, and he feels you swallow hard. His fingers now play with the fabric of your waistline, the hand around your throat moving round to the back of your head to grasp your hair. With one swift pull, your neck cranes back as he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “Don’t FUCK with me. You’re getting exactly what you asked for. Now be a good girl and do as I say.”

Your breath hitches at his commanding tone, a mix of fear and desire coursing through you. You nod slightly, careful not to move too much with his grip on your hair.

"Good," he purrs, the mask distorting his voice just enough to send chills down your spine. "Now, stand up slowly."

He releases your hair and moves off of you, allowing you to rise. Your legs feel shaky as you comply, standing before him. His golden eyes bore into you through the mask's eyeholes, intense and predatory.

"Strip," he orders, voice low and dangerous. "Slowly."

With trembling fingers, you begin to unbutton your silk pyjama top. You can feel his gaze burning into your skin as you reveal more and more. The top falls to the floor, revealing the black lace bra that you had kept on in anticipation of him making his move tonight. You hesitate at the waistband of your shorts.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he growls. You pause, wondering what he’d do if you disobey. Apparently you took too long thinking about this, because in one swift motion, Law grabs your arm, spinning you round so that his chest is flush with your back. You feel him manoeuvre to grab something from his person, and just as quickly you feel a cold, hard object placed against the underside of your chin.

“I told you not to fuck about. Now we do things my way.” The cold metal against your skin sends a jolt through your body. You realize it must be the small blade you had noticed earlier. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

"Y-yes, Mr. Ghostface," you play into the role, your voice barely above a whisper.

You feel his breath hot against your ear as he speaks, "Good girl. Now, finish what you started."

With shaky hands, you slowly push your shorts down your legs, stepping out of them carefully. The cool air of the room raises goosebumps on your exposed skin. You stand there, clad only in your black lace underwear, hyper-aware of Law's presence behind you.

The blade trails down your neck, across your collarbone, and down between your breasts. It's not enough pressure to cut, but the threat is there, heightening every sensation. Law's chest presses harder into your back, and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans. You’re relieved to know that he is enjoying this as much as you.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice husky behind the mask. "Now, on your knees." You comply, carefully turning around and sinking to the floor. The knife follows your movements, never leaving your skin. You can feel Law's presence looming over you, powerful and dominating.

"Hands behind your back," he orders. You comply swiftly, gazing up at the sight before you. Now that you were pretty much level with it, the bulge in his pants was VERY obvious. It looked painful, even. Your lips part in awe, panties absolutely soaked through already. He removed the knife from your plush skin, discarding it onto the sofa, and unzips his jeans, pushing them down to his ankles. He does the same with his boxers, but not before you can notice the significant wet patch across the front of the black fabric. His cock bounced as it was freed from the confines of Law’s pants, and you notice how flush his tip already was. You snap yourself out of the trance you found yourself in, staring and drooling.

"Open wide," he commands, his voice thick with desire. You comply eagerly, parting your lips as he guides his cock towards your mouth. He teases you at first, running the tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum across them. You whimper, and stick your tongue out, desperate to taste him.

Finally, he pushes into your mouth, groaning softly as your warm, wet tongue envelops him. You hollow your cheeks, sucking eagerly as he begins to thrust slowly. His hands tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.

"That's it," he hisses through the mask. "Take it all."

You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you gag slightly, but you don't stop. The sounds of your wet, sloppy efforts fill the room, punctuated by Law's low groans.

“That’s a good fucking girl” He breathes, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You adjust to his size, tears streaming down your face, gagging and blubbering as he lolls his head back in pleasure. You can see the fall and rise of his chest quicken, indicating how close he already is.

His breath catches in his throat, and he pulls you off his cock by your hair with a “pop”. He glares back down at you through the mask, chest still heaving. “Such a compliant little slut now, huh? Look at you. Is this what it takes for you to fucking listen?” You moan at his words. Hearing him talk like this, you could feel your pussy clench around nothing. All you wanted was him inside you. With his free hand, he holds your chin, using his thumb to wipe your saliva around your mouth. He places his index and middle finger over your lips, and you start sucking them in. He starts thrusting them across your tongue slowly, pulling your head back with the other hand still attached to your hair.

Suddenly, he shoves his fingers down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. He releases his grip on you, allowing you to catch your breath momentarily, before grabbing you underneath each arm. He pulls you up harshly, spinning you back around and pushing you onto the sofa. On instinct, you get on your knees and arch your back, giving him a perfect view of your ass.

Law's hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You feel the cool plastic of the mask brush against your shoulder as he leans over you, his hot breath tickling your ear.

"Look at you, presenting yourself like a bitch in heat," he growls, voice dripping with lust. "Is this what you wanted all along?"

You nod eagerly, pushing your hips back against him. "Yes, Mr. Ghostface. Please..."

He chuckles darkly, one hand leaving your hip to trail down your spine. "Please what? Use your words, slut."

You whimper, desire clouding your thoughts.

Without warning, he rips your lace panties off, the delicate fabric tearing easily. The cool air hits your dripping core, making you shiver. Law brings his hand down hard on your ass. The sharp sting makes you cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure. "Answer me when I speak to you," he demands.

“P-please fuck me, Law! Please! I need you inside me.” You wail. Another harsh smack reverberates off of your ass and echoes through the room, along with the sounds of you crying out. His hand returns to your neck and pulls you up against him. You turn your head to try and face him.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He snarls. Your face goes as white as the one staring back at you. The few seconds of silence are deafening. The sounds from the TV dull as the room fills with overbearing silence.

“I-I-” you try to start, his grip on your throat getting firmer. More tears start to fall from your cheeks as you gaze up at him through the mask, trying to predict his next move. The pressure on your trachea is starting to overwhelm you, and black spots start to cloud your vision. Before you pass out, he lets go and you fall forward, back onto all fours, gasping for breath.

Without warning, he grabs your hips and thrusts his entire length into you. You both groan in unison from the pleasure, yours slightly more strained. He starts thrusting in and out of you at a harsh pace, the rough grip on your hips already burning. The silence that once veiled the room is replaced with the sound of his balls slapping against you with every thrust, his feral grunts and your rasped moans. He removes once hand from your hip to hook into the side of your mouth while he fucks into you from behind.

“Fuuuuuck baby, you take me so well” he drawls. This is the first time during his pursuit this evening that you can feel your Law shining through, clear as day. The use of one of your many pet names has your stomach doing flips, and you can feel your release building up fast.

“M’gonna cum” you strain. The remaining hand on your hip shifts slightly closer to your ass, as you feel his thumb probing at your back entrance, and your orgasm hits you in a wave of pleasure. Back arching even further, mouth agape and drooling, you let out a mix of a moan and a scream. Law watches as you come undone around his cock, feeling you tighten up and watching as your ass clenched around the tip of his thumb, your whole body trembling. The feeling of his own high flooding his senses.

“Thaat’s it, good girl. Gonna cum inside this tight little pussy” He breathes ruggedly, hips faltering to a stop as he releases his load deep inside you. Another drawn out moan expels from you both at the sensation.

Law reaches up and pulls the mask off of his face to help catch his breath, and you turn your head to see his beautiful, fucked out face, forehead drenched in sweat and hair a mess. You can’t help but beam from ear to ear, and he can’t help but smirk back at you. Throwing the mask to the side, he wraps his arms around you from behind and rolls you both onto your sides on the sofa.

You both lay there panting, bodies intertwined and glistening with sweat. Law's arms hold you close, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel his heartbeat gradually slowing as he catches his breath. The room is quiet now, save for your soft breathing and the muted sounds from the forgotten TV.

After a few moments, Law gently turns you to face him. His golden eyes, no longer hidden behind the mask, search your face with a mix of concern and tenderness. "Are you alright?" he asks softly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his care. "I'm more than alright," you assure him, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. "That was... incredible."

He returns your smile, relief evident in his features. "It was," he agrees, "I have to admit, I enjoyed that more than I expected to."

You examine his face, taking in his flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. "I could tell," you tease, running a hand through his damp locks.

He smirks at you again. He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “Next time you come up with one of these mask ideas, can you pick one that has a fucking hole to breathe out of?”

“I don’t know, the heavy breathing adds to the immersion” you giggle. He rolls his eyes playfully in response. You begin to trace the tattoos on his arm idly. He leans in again and slots his lips between yours. It was tender, soft, and epitomised the sappy side of Law that he revealed ever so rarely. He withdrew from your lips and paused for a moment, as if he was contemplating something.

“I missed kissing you, too” he admits, the innocent confession causing even more of a blush to form and his eyes to shift to the side.

“Trafalgar D. Water Law, are you going soft on me?” you tease. Your hand moving to his cheek, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Don’t ever change. You are more than I could ever ask for, and far more than I ever deserved.” You brush your thumbs across his cheek. “I love you so much, Law".

You can see his eyes go slightly glossy from the emotional confession. “I love you, too, Y/N.” He tucks another loose strand of hair behind your ear and his face contorts into a smirk. “Now who’s going soft, huh?”

The hand that you were using to caress his face pats his cheek lightly in a faux slap. “Can’t have one sincere moment without one of us being a cynical ass hat, huh?” You retort, grinning.

Slowly sitting up from the sofa and rubbing your (rather sore) neck, you can feel the mixture of your fluids leaking out of you. You both head to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of the evening, getting comfortable underneath the covers, bodies entwined with each other.

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The Next Day

Shachi and Penguin opened the door of their Captain’s quarters, in search of Y/N’s log pose, at her request. They headed straight for the corner of the bedroom where a small makeshift living room space had been fashioned; a simple set-up including a sofa, coffee table and small TV.

Penguin fumbled through stacks of paperwork on the table, while Shachi moved around the pillows on the sofa. Y/N had instructed that her log pose may have fallen off somewhere in that vicinity.

“…holy SHIT” Shachi exclaimed, pulling out three items from betwixt the cushions. Penguin turned around and examined the items in his friends hands: a small knife with a black hilt, a ripped pair of black panties, and a plastic, white Ghostface mask.

“Oh my god” Penguin stared in awe. Shachi was particularly distracted by the panties that he gripped in his fist. “Do you think these are… Y/N’s?” he beamed.

“No, I think they’re the Captain’s... OF COURSE THEY’RE Y/N’S!” Penguin examined the other two items in Shachi’s hand. “Man, they’re into some kinky shit.” His friend nodded in agreeance.

They both continued searching for the log pose, but not before Shachi stuffed his new find into the pocket of his boiler suit.

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.

part 5 of 12

Synopsis: Morning confrontations bring afternoon coffee showers? Dealing with the aftermath of the bonfire

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

Warnings: luke being a shitty dad

masterlist

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The morning sun filtered through the wide-open windows of the Chateau, casting lazy golden beams over the worn but welcoming space. Y/N had woken up early, unable to sleep much after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was distant but soothing, a sharp contrast to the unease she still felt in the pit of her stomach.

She had wandered into the living room of the Chateau, the place the Pogues often gathered, now quiet after the chaos of the bonfire. The remnants of last night's party—the beer cans, half-empty bottles, and scattered towels—were strewn across the floor, evidence of the good times they’d shared. But the joy from last night felt distant now.

Y/N settled into one of the couches, looking out at the ocean. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the soft creak of footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Kiara walking in, wearing her usual calm expression, though Y/N could tell her friend had already sensed something was off.

“Hey,” Kiara said gently, taking a seat beside Y/N. She looked out at the water, then back at her. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to start. She had been so caught up in her emotions last night, trying to laugh it off, but now, in the quiet aftermath, the weight of it all was harder to ignore. She bit her lip, looking down at her hands.

“I just… I don’t know,” Y/N started, her voice quieter than she intended. “Last night, the way they all were talking… I mean, it’s nothing new, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Kiara’s expression softened. “The jokes about you not hooking up with anyone?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. It’s like, they don’t see me as a girl at all. Just one of the guys. And I know I’ve always been… the bookworm, or whatever, but it’s different now. I don’t know why, but it just hurt last night. I wanted to be seen, you know? I’m not just ‘one of you.’”

Kiara let out a sigh, clearly understanding the struggle Y/N was dealing with. “You’ve always been one of us, Y/N. The Pogues, we’re a family. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated like more than just the ‘girl version’ of one of the guys. You’re allowed to feel that way.”

Y/N turned to Kiara, her eyes searching for reassurance. “But why does it feel like I’m always in the background? Like no one really notices me for who I am, just… who I’ve always been to them.”

Kiara gave her a small, knowing smile. “Because it’s easier to see you as the bookworm, the one who’s always steady and reliable. It’s easier than admitting that you might want something more. But you deserve that, Y/N. More than anyone else.”

Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door to JJ's honorary bedroom opened, and JJ walked in, his hair still messy from the night before, his signature carefree grin on his face. He paused for a moment when he saw them, then sauntered over to the couch, plopping down beside Kiara with a playful look.

“Good morning, ladies,” JJ said, his voice light and teasing. “I see we survived the bonfire chaos.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You look like you survived a tornado.”

JJ chuckled. “The waves were rough last night. But I made it through, don’t worry.”

Y/N couldn’t help but give a small laugh, but the knot in her stomach tightened again when she remembered the night before. She glanced at him briefly, her heart still doing that strange flutter whenever she saw him, even though she’d tried to shake off her feelings for him.

“Did you have fun last night?” Kiara asked, her voice casual, but Y/N could sense there was a little more to it.

JJ grinned. “Yeah, met a tourist. She’s cool. Gonna show her around today.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt a sudden pang of jealousy that she couldn’t ignore. Of course, JJ would find someone else to hang out with. He always did.

She didn’t say anything, though. Instead, she glanced out the window again, her mind racing. As if on cue, the door to the spare room opened, and a girl Y/N didn’t recognize stepped out. She was smiling, stretching as she made her way toward the kitchen, clearly in no rush to leave.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed instinctively. That was the tourist. The one JJ had been flirting with last night. She felt her chest tighten as the reality of her situation hit her harder than before.

Kiara must have noticed the change in Y/N’s expression because she shot a quick glance between her and JJ. “Everything okay?” she asked softly, but there was an underlying understanding in her voice.

Y/N didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she just nodded, trying to hold back the hurt and confusion she was feeling. JJ was already looking toward the door where the girl had gone, clearly not noticing the subtle shift in Y/N’s mood.

But then, he turned to her and noticed her distant expression. He gave her a questioning look, and for a moment, their eyes met. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do with the way his gaze lingered on her—whether it was concern or curiosity—but it only made her feel even more unsure of where she stood.

The awkward silence was broken when Kiara spoke up again, her voice a little firmer than before. “You should talk to him, Y/N. If there’s something you need to say, now’s as good a time as any.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. The words Kiara had just spoken hung in the air, and she felt a surge of emotion bubbling up inside her. She didn’t know what had changed in her since last night, but it was like something inside her had cracked open—something she had kept buried for a long time.

She glanced at Kiara, whose expression was a mix of concern and encouragement. It was like Kiara could see right through her, and in that moment, Y/N realized she didn’t have the luxury of keeping things in anymore. She had to say something. She couldn’t keep playing along like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stood up, the muscles in her legs tense. She turned to JJ, who was still lounging on the couch, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in the room. She had to get this out, had to make him see.

“JJ,” she started, her voice shaky but determined. “Can we talk?”

He looked up, his grin faltering slightly as he met her eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Outside. Now” Y/N and JJ made their way out to the hammock. Taking a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “What the hell, JJ?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, her frustration and hurt now spilling over.

JJ blinked, clearly taken aback by her tone. “What are you talking about?”

“The way you act like you’re in love with Kiara, but you’ll hook up with anyone who’s not her.” The words were sharper than she meant, but she couldn’t stop them. “It’s like you get to keep her on this pedestal and pretend that she’s the one, but you don’t treat her like that. You treat her like… like she’s just another girl to play with.”

JJ, who had been about to make a joke, suddenly went silent. He straightened up on the couch, his expression turning more serious, but Y/N didn’t let up.

“I’m sick of it,” Y/N continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “I’m sick of being the ‘good girl,’ the one you all forget is… well, a girl. You make these jokes about me, like I don’t care. But I do. I just don’t understand why you keep doing this—acting like you’re so into Kiara when you’re out there with anyone else who shows up. What about her? What about me?” Her breath hitched, the words coming out in a rush.

JJ’s expression shifted from confusion to defensiveness. He leaned forward slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. “Look, Y/N, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t,” Y/N cut him off, her voice rising. “I’m not asking for an apology, I’m asking for you to think for once. Maybe stop acting like you don’t have feelings for Kiara when you clearly do. And maybe, just maybe, think about how I feel when I see you with someone else, acting like I’m just… background noise.”

There was a heavy pause. JJ’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something—anything—to try and fix it. But then he stood up quickly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he pushed past her toward the door.

“Look, I’m just trying to have a good time. Maybe you’re overthinking this,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity of the conversation.

Y/N’s heart sank. It was like he didn’t even understand what she was saying, like he was so caught up in his own world that he couldn’t even recognize the hurt in hers.

Without another word, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed off, her pulse racing. She didn’t want to be in this space anymore. Didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

As she made her way back to the house, JJ called after her, but Y/N didn’t stop. She needed air. She needed to get away from all of this for a moment.

The front door swung open just as she stepped onto the porch, and she stopped, breathless, seeing the girl from the night before leaving the kitchen with a carefree smile. JJ’s tourist. Y/N felt a bitter sting in her chest as the girl waved goodbye to him before heading out, not even sparing a glance at Y/N.

The jealousy coursed through her, but it was more than that—it was the feeling of being unseen, of not being enough. And in that moment, the weight of it all felt unbearable.

—

Later, Y/N started her shift down at the country club. The rhythmic clinking of glasses and soft hum of the lunch rush kept Y/N focused, the kind of steady routine she needed to distract herself after everything that had gone down last night and this morning. Cleaning the bar, wiping down counters—anything to keep her mind from wandering back to the bonfire and the sting of the Pogues’ comments.

But just as she was about to grab a fresh cloth to wipe the countertop, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Rafe Cameron.

Her eyes widened slightly. Rafe was looking like he’d just had the worst day of his life—frazzled, hair a little more messed up than usual, and his eyes wide with some mix of panic and annoyance.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s voice was a little too loud for the low-key atmosphere of the club, and he made a beeline for the bar. “I need your help. Like, right now.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, trying to hide her grin. “Cameron, here? What’s up? Your dad cut you off already?”

He shot her a look that was somewhere between exasperation and helplessness. “I wish. No, listen, my dad invited me to sit in on some huge business meeting today, right? It’s a big deal, but I—” he glanced down at his pants and then back up at her, “—I spilled coffee all over my pants. It’s bad, Y/N. Really bad.”

Y/N couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, the image of the Kook prince—immaculate and untouchable—standing there with a coffee stain on his fancy pants was just too much. “You spilled coffee on your pants? Really?”

Rafe scowled, clearly embarrassed but too proud to admit just how serious he was about the whole situation. “This is a huge deal, alright? I’m meeting with some important people, and I can’t go in looking like this. I need help, please.”

Still trying to stifle her giggles, Y/N nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you. But you owe me one.” She grabbed a towel and motioned for him to follow her. “Come on, we’re going to the bathroom. We’ll try to clean them up. Don’t get too hopeful.”

“Anything,” Rafe muttered, following her through the back of the club.

The bathroom was quiet, and Y/N could already feel the light tension between them as they stepped inside. She motioned for him to wait by one of the stalls. “Alright, take a seat in there. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Rafe shot her a doubtful look but did as she said, squeezing himself into the stall. Y/N was left with his coffee-stained pants, feeling both amused and slightly sorry for him. The stain was big, but not impossible to fix with some elbow grease.

As she worked on scrubbing the stain out, the silence between them stretched on, and after a while, Y/N broke it with a quiet sigh. “You know, I took your advice last night,” she began, her tone soft, almost uncertain. “The whole ‘don’t hold back’ thing. But… it kind of bombed.”

Rafe’s voice came from the stall, more serious than she expected. “What do you mean? I thought it was good advice.”

Y/N shook her head, her hands still moving over the fabric. “I mean, I told them exactly what I was thinking, and it didn’t go over well. They just made fun of me more. I thought maybe it would feel good to get everything off my chest, but instead, it just made things worse.”

There was a long pause before Rafe finally spoke, his tone softer than she had ever heard it. “I’m sorry. I was drunk, and honestly, I didn’t really think through what I was saying. I guess it’s not as easy as just throwing everything out there without consequences.” He let out a small, almost rueful laugh. “I wasn’t really thinking, was I?”

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling the weight of her own frustrations lift just a little. “No, you weren’t. But it did feel good to be honest, even if the timing was… well, off.” She looked at him over her shoulder, finding him still in the stall, his face partially visible, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“You know, I never really thought about it that way,” Rafe admitted, his voice quieter. “Like, yeah, I’m always the one telling people to do whatever the hell they want. But sometimes you gotta be careful what you say. Especially when it’s about people who matter.”

Y/N felt a flicker of understanding between them—something unspoken but real. “Yeah, I get that.”

She finished cleaning the pants, carefully checking to make sure the stain was almost gone. “Alright, I think we’re good. You might still look like you’re working overtime at a coffee shop, but it’s better than it was.”

Rafe finally emerged from the stall, straightening up and looking down at his pants. He sighed in relief. “You saved me. I owe you one, big time.”

Y/N shrugged, brushing her hands off and turning to face him. “Don’t worry about it. Just—next time, maybe don’t go around giving relationship advice while drunk.” She grinned, teasing him.

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But seriously, thanks. I didn’t think you’d even care to help me with this.”

Y/N smiled back at him, feeling lighter than she had in days. “What are friends for, Rafe?”

—

The evening sun was beginning to fade, casting an orange glow over the island, but Y/N’s shift at the country club wasn’t over just yet. The events of the day had played out in such a whirlwind—Rafe’s unexpected visit, the heart-to-heart they’d shared, and the awkward tension that still lingered between Y/N and the Pogues. It was a strange mix of emotions she couldn’t quite shake off.

She wiped down the bar one last time, scanning the room. The club was quieter now, the steady flow of people dying down as dinner hour approached. She could already feel the exhaustion setting in after an emotionally charged day, but it wasn’t over yet.

The phone behind the counter rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She answered it quickly, as she always did in the quiet moments.

“Hello?” she asked, her tone soft from the fatigue she’d been carrying all day.

“Y/N?”

Her heart skipped at the familiar voice. It was JJ, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach tighten.

“JJ? Everything okay?” she asked, glancing around the bar to make sure no one needed her attention.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice shaky and strained, like he’d been holding something in for far too long. “My dad… he—he had another outburst. And it was bad, Y/N. Really bad.”

Her chest tightened as she set the rag down on the counter. “JJ… are you alright?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then a sharp, almost hollow laugh. “I’m fine, I guess. Just… it’s the same shit, you know? But this time, I… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

Y/N’s heart ached for him, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. She had seen him at his worst, but she knew how much it meant when he opened up like this.

“I’ll be there in a few,” she said without hesitation. “Just… stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”

“Thanks,” JJ muttered, the relief in his voice barely audible. “I knew I could count on you.”

The line went dead, and Y/N immediately grabbed her bag, rushing to clock out. She wasn’t about to let him go through this alone, not after everything he’d confided in her before. Even if she didn’t know what to say to fix it, she’d be there.

When Y/N arrived at JJ’s house, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. The atmosphere felt different, heavier, as she stood at the front door, glancing at the dim lights flickering through the windows. There was no sign of movement from inside, but she knew he was there. He had to be.

She knocked softly on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet of the evening. The door creaked open, and there stood JJ, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.

Without a word, he stepped aside, letting her in. The silence that followed spoke volumes—no words needed to be exchanged, as Y/N understood exactly how he was feeling. She had seen this before, the way his father’s outbursts left him fragile and raw. She just didn’t know how much longer he could keep holding it all together.

“Where is he?” Y/N asked, glancing around.

“Out,” JJ muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He left after… after everything. I don’t even know where he went. Doesn’t matter.”

Y/N nodded, understanding that he was just trying to hold himself together. She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, JJ.”

He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, then back up at her, his eyes searching hers. “I know. I just… I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” she replied quietly. “We’ve been through too much for me to walk away now.”

JJ let out a shaky breath, then nodded, his eyes lingering on hers for a beat longer than necessary. “I don’t even know how to thank you for always being here. You… you’re the only one who gets it.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. She had always been there for him, but sometimes, it felt like she was the one who needed to be saved. She gave him a small smile. “It’s not about thanks. I’m here because I want to be.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. “You’ve been through enough today.”

JJ didn’t argue. He simply nodded, allowing her to guide him toward the small couch where he’d likely been sitting alone, stewing over everything that had happened.

–

The air in JJ’s house was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Y/N had helped him clean up, patched up the immediate mess his father’s outburst had left on him, but the emotional damage was still raw. JJ, sitting on the worn-out couch, looked every bit like a kid who’d seen too much too soon. His shoulders were slumped, his face shadowed by exhaustion, but Y/N knew better than to push him. They’d both been through enough for one day.

She sat down beside him, the room quiet except for the occasional hum of the old fan in the corner. No words were needed right now; sometimes, silence was the best comfort. They didn’t have to say much to understand each other.

Y/N glanced over at him, her voice gentle when she finally broke the silence. “You know, when we were kids, I never imagined things would turn out this way.”

JJ shifted slightly, his eyes downcast. “Yeah, me neither,” he muttered. “But I guess the world doesn’t give a shit about what we imagined, huh?”

Y/N let out a quiet, sad laugh, knowing that was the bitter truth. “Nope. We get what we get, and we have to figure out how to make it work.”

They both sat in the quiet for a moment longer, the weight of everything they’d been through growing heavier. She’d known JJ for so long, seen him go through so much, but tonight it felt different. There was a certain vulnerability in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, something raw and unspoken.

“Did you ever think about leaving?” Y/N asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air before she could stop herself.

JJ met her eyes then, his expression guarded. “I think about it all the time. But I know I’d never make it far. It’s just easier to stay and pretend like it’s all fine.”

Y/N nodded, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She’d always admired JJ’s ability to keep going, even when everything seemed to be falling apart around him. But she knew, like he did, that sometimes the hardest part was pretending it didn’t hurt.

“I’ve thought about leaving too,” she said quietly, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap. “Not for the same reasons, but… sometimes I wonder if there’s more out there for me than this island. Than everything that’s tied to it.”

JJ’s lips twitched upward in the smallest smile. “You’re one of the only ones I know who can get away from this place, Y/N. You could actually make something of yourself, get outta here.”

Y/N chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. “Maybe. But every time I think about leaving, I remember that everything I want is right here. Even if it’s all a mess.”

“You really think that?” JJ asked, leaning back slightly, a new kind of curiosity in his voice.

Y/N met his gaze, her tone steady. “Yeah. I think I’ve spent so much time thinking about leaving, I forgot what it means to stay. To fight for something that matters. Even if it's messed up and broken, at least it’s real.”

JJ looked at her for a long moment, his eyes softer than they had been all night. “I get that. I think… Maybe I just don’t know what it means to stay. Not with how things are.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the words. She’d known about Luke’s temper, the violence that simmered beneath the surface of the man JJ had called father for so long. But she was the only one who knew how bad it really got. The others saw the bruises, the scars, the broken things, but they didn’t know how much of it was a product of a man who couldn’t control his rage.

She sighed, her voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, JJ. I’m here. You know that, right?”

JJ glanced at her, the walls he’d built up over the years starting to crack. He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just nodded, as if the weight of everything was finally getting to him. He let out a breath, a shaky laugh escaping him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N smiled, though the ache in her chest didn’t fade. She knew she was the only one who truly understood what he was going through. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what kept her coming back—being the one person who could hold the pieces together, even when everything seemed to fall apart.

JJ shifted slightly, his tone quieter now. “You ever wish you could’ve had a different childhood? A different family?”

Y/N let the question sit for a moment, knowing it wasn’t easy to admit. She leaned back against the couch, thinking back to her own complicated relationship with her parents. It wasn’t as bad as his, but it had never been simple either. They’d always been distant, more focused on their own lives than on her. She shrugged, her voice soft.

“I think about it sometimes. I wonder if things would’ve been different if they’d been different. But then I remember… you and me, and the way we survived this island. Maybe that’s all we need. To survive.”

JJ let out a dry laugh, the humor in his voice soft and weary. “Yeah. We’re good at surviving.”

The silence stretched between them, and Y/N realized they were both carrying the weight of things they couldn’t change. But at least they had each other. At least they had someone who understood. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.

Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.

As the night grew darker, Y/N felt the weight of her eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the day, from everything, creeping in. It had been a hard day, a hard week, but for now, in the quiet of JJ’s house, with him by her side, it felt like they were just two kids again—no worries, no pain, just the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ whispered into the stillness, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah?” she murmured, her eyes already half-shut.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N’s lips twitched into a sleepy smile, her voice soft as she responded, “Same, JJ. Same.”

And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.

Before fully drifting off, Y/N thought to herself, Once we graduate... we’re leaving. Together. No more broken families, no more staying behind. And with that, they both let the quiet of the night pull them under, dreaming of the future they would build away from the island and all that had hurt them.

And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.

---

Next up: a return to how it was, more or less

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Taglist:

@hockeybabe87

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A/N: last one for night.. wish me luck for my presentation in the morning!!!!

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Remiss

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2.2k

Summary: Clearing the air

A/N: Filling plot holes?

Warnings: fluff, some angst, alcohol, a trip down memory lane, hurt/comfort

Wanda and the pets were asleep by the time you arrived home. The dogs were where they usually stayed, downstairs, while Fletcher was probably in your spot. Specifically on your pillow. This was only allowed when you weren’t home which for the first time in a while, you weren’t when the time to go to bed rolled around. 

It was almost 2 in the morning when you stumble through the front door. You’d left your car with Pietro because you had gotten a lot drunker than you anticipated. He’d called you a cab home and cleared it with security so Wanda wouldn’t be woken up by their call to alert her of your arrival. Still, you worry that she’ll find out pretty quickly because you trip over your feet as you hurry to turn off the alarm that starts to chirp annoyingly.

You curse as you shut the door and flip on the light long enough to punch in the code that’s been most recently committed to memory. Wanda insists on changing it twice a year, and although it’s a pain in the ass, you go along with it. 

You sigh in relief when the chirping stops and you turn around to make sure that you locked the front door. Once you confirm this you go to turn off the light, but the sight of your dogs makes you jump nearly a foot in the air. You curse and fall back against the door in surprise. Your hand goes to your racing heart as the duo shoot you matching expectant looks.

“Shit!” 

They don’t seem to realize that they scared the shit out of you, and they come up to you for their pets with wagging tails. You take a moment to scratch them both before you grab your phone and turn on the flashlight with a sigh. 

“Okay puppies. I’m gonna bed. Goodnight.” 

You make the treacherous journey to the living room and up the stairs to your bedroom in the near darkness. You don’t notice Rogue trailing behind you until you start to push open the door to the bedroom. You turn off the flashlight so you don’t wake up your wife, but now you also can barely see anything. 

You’re too tired to bother changing clothes before falling into bed, and you stifle a yawn as you smile at the sight of your wife. When you realize that she’s not alone you nearly roll your eyes. 

“Fletcher…”

The tabby is unsurprisingly curled up against your wife’s stomach, and you at least take comfort in the fact that she’s not on your side of the bed. You step out of your shoes and drop your bag on the floor with a quiet thud. Neither of them realize you’ve arrived until you fall on top of the bed with a relieved sigh. You groan under your breath, and bury your face into your pillow. You miss Wanda groan as she stirs at the bed sinking under your weight. She opens her eyes and the first thing she sees is her cat stretching in front of her as she purrs furiously. After she’s offered her a quick scratch, her attention moves to where you’re still lying face down on your pillow trying to sleep off your night. 

“Y/n?” 

Wanda had expected you back a bit earlier, but she supposes she can’t be too surprised that you were delayed. You were hanging out with her brother and he was nothing if not unpredictable. She realizes quickly that you must have had a lot to drink because when she sits up slightly to check on you. The smell of booze is enough to wake her up a bit more and she reaches out for you when you only groan in response.

“Rough night?” 

Wanda reminds herself to yell at her brother later for being an enabler, but she’s quickly distracted when you roll over onto your back. You’re frowning but she doesn’t get to ask what’s on your mind before you turn toward her and Fletcher with a sigh. 

“Have I told you…that I love you…a lot?” 

Wanda’s eyes widen as she looks at you, or rather your silhouette with a smile. She sees you reach out, but she’s surprised when you stop short and scratch Fletcher instead. It’s almost as if you knew she would move, and you close the distance between you and your wife as soon as the tabby’s gone. 

Wanda shrugs as she watches her cat jump off the bed and head for the door where she notices Rogue is now lying down.

“On occasion.” 

Wanda feels more than sees you nod before she lowers herself back down to the bed beside you. She ignores the smell of alcohol as she rests her head on your shoulder. She’s glad that you’re back. She’d missed you earlier and it was always easier for her to sleep with you beside her. You breathe out a sigh before muttering into your wife’s hair.

“Good. I’m glad.” 

Wanda frowns at your tone and how even half asleep it’s enough for her to realize that something was bothering you. Its too dark for her to see your expression, so she does the next best thing to try and figure out what’s on your mind. 

“Y/n, is something wrong?” 

She can’t help but run through the possibilities and she pulls back from you to try and get a better read on your mood. You don’t make it easy as you shake your head before reaching out for your wife. You run a hand up her waist to her back and finally to her hair where you start to play with a few strands that have escaped her ponytail. 

“No, no. I..I just wa-wanted you to know is all.” 

This still sounded too ominous for Wanda’s liking and she reaches out for you. She catches your chin and pulls you closer so she can kiss you. She catches you by surprise but you lean into the kiss and hold your wife like you’re afraid that she’ll leave. When Wanda breaks away, she doesn’t go far, and she rests her head on your shoulder as she wraps her arms around you.

“I love you too, you know that right?” 

You don’t hesitate to nod as you turn your head again before you’re lying on your back. You feel your head spin and you briefly regret drinking so much as you think about what you and Pietro talked about tonight. It started off innocent enough with who he was dating and how Wanda was handling staying at home this week. Then it turned to darker thoughts and somehow you’d had a conversation about your least favorite person. 

Wanda watches as you become lost in thought, and she can’t help but worry that something happened tonight. She considers reaching out to her brother, but luckily you don’t leave her hanging for too long. That said, you don’t really clarify much for her with what you say next. 

“I was just talking to Piet, and he reminded me that I didn’t say it enough.” 

Wanda misunderstands and she’s immediately on edge at the idea of her brother saying something like this to you. She is definitely going to yell at him tomorrow.

“He said that? That’s not true, detka. You tell me all the time.” 

Your brow furrows in confusion as you turn to see your wife looks a little ticked. You squeeze her hand before shaking your head with another sigh. You need to drink water, and take a shower, but you have something you need to say first. 

“Not like that. He wasn’t giving me a hard time. I just…”

You trail off as you consider the years you’ve spent with Wanda. All of the struggles and drama that you dealt with as a result of agreeing to be with your wife. You had doubted the decision some. You couldn’t lie and say that the idea of committing to the uncertainty and danger of being with Wanda wasn’t intimidating. That said, you honestly can only think of a handful of instances over the past 5 years that really made you second-guess your decision.

That said, you know that none of this was something that you could have predicted. No matter how much training, how many resources, and friends you have, you can’t be protected from everything. This is something that you and Pietro talked about tonight, and the conversation turned a lot more emotional than you’d been prepared for. 

“Do you remember the day we got married?”

Wanda finally sits all the way up and reaches for the lamp on her bedside table. She can’t stand to continue this conversation in the dark because she can’t tell what you’re feeling. You flinch slightly, but don’t protest as Wanda turns on the light before flopping back down beside you. 

“Yes, of course I do.” 

You seem to accept this answer but are still lost in your jumbled thoughts that you’re currently failing to organize. You shouldn’t have tried to start this conversation while drunk, but now you had no choice. You are sure that Wanda won’t let you just drop it. The look on her face tells you that much. 

You close your eyes before you imagine your wedding day. It was wonderful and you were stressed but in the best kind of way. You’d gotten to marry the love of your life with your closest friends by your side. You’d been so happy and a little naïve if you were being honest. You thought that not much would change, or at least not much that mattered, but it didn’t take you long to figure out how wrong you were.

“I told you I loved you then too, right?” 

Suddenly your wife is hovering over you and you see her concerned look before her question registers. Your arms suddenly feel like lead as you try to reach up and take your wife’s face in your hand.

“You’re worrying me, love. What’s on your mind?” 

You wonder how you can tell Wanda that you love your life with her. You’re so glad that you married her, and you don’t know how to tell her this. You’ve loved the life that you’ve had together, but it hasn’t always been a bed of roses. You have lost count of how many times you’ve been terrified, threatened, or hurt by someone who wanted to get something from your wife. Whether it was money, cooperation, or revenge, you had found yourself on the receiving end of their efforts too many times. You smile as you brush her hair behind her ears and confuse your wife in the same breath.

“Tonight, I just thought about all that we’ve gone through. The struggles, the enemies, all of the challenges we’ve faced.” 

Wanda had not been expecting this, and she can’t hide her surprise as she frowns in confusion. She had expected her brother to be lewd and inappropriate, so this trip down memory lane was a shock. She doesn’t get to ask why you and Pietro talked about this at all before you drop your hands to her shoulders. You push her enough for her to get the hint, and she moves so she can help you sit up. You groan as you lie back against your pillow and reach out for her hand. You play with the ring on her finger for a few seconds before you finally clue Wanda in. 

“It just made me realize that I never told you how it all made me feel. I hate that you probably blamed yourself when it wasn’t your fault. I just…tonight we talked about Vision, and it made me realize that other than bitching about him, I don’t know if I told you that I really didn’t blame anyone but him, Strucker, and Rumlow.” 

Wanda rocks back in surprise at your words and her mouth falls open but she can’t manage any sort of verbal response. She’s not sure how you know that she’s been harboring resentment toward herself for this since it happened. She supposes you just know her really well, but she still doesn’t understand why it came up tonight. Maybe she’s thinking too much into it. Alcohol eliminates most rational thought, doesn’t it?

“So that’s all I really wanted to say, Wands. I don’t love you any less or blame you for anything that happened to me.” 

Wanda feels tears stinging her eyes and she can’t help but lean forward and kiss you again. She ignores the taste of tequila, which explains a lot, as she allows herself to feel relief at your words. She didn’t realize how much guilt she’d been carrying with her, and despite knowing it will never completely leave her, she feels much lighter. 

“Y/n, I—”

“I’d even go through all of it again, if it meant ending up here with you. Sorry—I didn’t mean to. Interrupt.” 

Wanda smiles at your flushed face and kisses your cheek before pulling you into a hug. It’s a little awkward, so she crawls into your lap so she can bring you even closer. Her smile widens when she hears you sigh in relief. 

“I love you, detka. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

As you hold your wife in your arms, you’re certain you can say the same. There’s really no telling where you’d be if it wasn’t for Wanda. If you hadn’t met her after your awful physics lecture you likely never would have crossed paths. You tighten your hold on your wife as you try to push this thought from your mind. You don’t want to think about being anywhere but here.

“Me neither, Wands.” 

Masterlist

[acciotaitlynn]

How about a nurse having a crush on zayne bc his relationship with MC wasnt well known yet and then she found out by busting zayne n mc in heat moment in his office haha

Get well soon!

Hiiii ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ Sorry this took so long! I hope you're doing well! and that you like it ♡♡♡

» mild sexual content, 18+, vsex, oral꒰fem!receiving꒱

shorty; 944 wc

ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ Anya should be paying attention to the heart transplant before her, but she can’t focus on anything except the man performing it. 

Zanye’s bright, golden-green eyes assess the matter before him with his usual stoic expression, movements calm and confident as he asks her for a vascular clamp. 

Luckily, she can respond; she can barely breathe watching him work.

Her mind fills with visions of those slender, experienced fingers tracing her skin, and she trembles slightly as she passes the clamp.

Unsurprisingly, Doctor Zayne occupies the fantasies of many women and men who work alongside him.

He doesn’t notice the longing eyes that follow him like a persistent shadow. But you do.

It’s endearing, really; he has no idea how wonderful he is. 

He must have some idea that their friendliness holds another note, though, after receiving more gift baskets, cakes, and homemade meals than you can count, complete with flirty handwritten notes.

If he does notice, he never mentions it. Justs accepts their gifts with genuine gratitude before sharing them with you.ᵕ̈  

Anya’a attraction ꒰*cough* obsession꒱ is growing unbearable.

The first thing her mind latches onto upon waking and the last before bed, Zayne even lingers in between shifts when her fingers find their place deep inside her; often so worked up from his presence, she’s unable to resist seeking release. 

She’s imagining it, but she thinks the brushes of his fingers are starting to linger, and a look of desire is blooming in his eyes. 

Zayne knows her name, just as he knows most hospital staff. He’s kind and cordial to her, just as with anyone else. But that's it.

This lady has no idea that he's lost in thoughts of you if there’s anything like that in his gaze. 

Take right now, for instance. 

Zayne is washing his hands with a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes, mind swimming with a never-ending replay of your bare, blissed-out form beneath him last night. 

Thoughts of things he wants to try tonight play next as he smiles gently before clearing his throat and shaking himself out of it, failing miserably with a quiet groan, seeing his cock deep inside you seconds later. 

Anya follows him down the half, chirping about how well the surgery went and how incredible Zayne was.    “As always!” 

Zayne is asking when to expect you, and upon receiving your reply of “waiting in your office,” relief courses through him, a pleased smile gracing his features as Anya misinterprets it as a response to her praises. 

She also 100% misreads the desire coursing through him at what he plans to do to you when he gets there. 

He decides he can’t wait until tonight to have you, and he’s practically rushing away with nothing but an apologetic smile while not feeling sorry at all.

How can he when his lips meet yours moments later, and he feels genuinely awake for the first time today? 

Anya is hiding in the bathroom, hand traveling under her scrubs when she has the worst idea of all ideas. 

She checks herself in the mirror, pinching her cheeks and pepping herself up. 

She’s been receiving “signals” for weeks, just too scared to move.

But she’s tired of waiting. If she keeps it up, another of Zayne’s admirers will beat her to it.

Her steps are resolute as she makes her way to his office. With a light knock on the door, her pounding heart stops as she peeks inside. 

Your legs are spread open on his desk, and Anya can see every trace his tongue makes on your clit. 

Every sound of pleasure leaving you both as your hands run tenderly through the raven hair she’s been dying to touch is a stab to the gut. 

Her breath comes quick and quiet as she watches through the crack. 

She recognizes you as Zayne's longtime friend who occasionally visits him at the hospital. She didn’t realize that it was nearly daily; she just didn’t witness it. 

Zayne doesn’t divulge his personal affairs, so your relationship is quiet. His fan club isn’t aware of you—yet.

But best believe they will be soon. 

Zayne’s heated murmur of, “This is unlike me,” before freeing his cock, playing messily before pushing into your warmth, has her thighs pressing together. 

He’s so different with you… So open. So raw and needy. 

He literally whimpers as his hips start moving, and he admits, “You haunted me mercilessly through the entire procedure. If you hadn’t been here, I’d have had to care for myself.” 

You giggle at his words and adorable flustered expression, pulling him in for a lingering kiss.

Your gazes hold far more than a newly blossoming relationship. 

A fierce wave of nausea hits her as she closes the door quietly. 

The resolute plan to tell everyone every little detail forms. But she can’t even think about getting started until her fingers fuck the image of Zayne’s cock filling you up from her mind. 

From now on, no one mistakes Zayne’s daydreamy gazes for anything else, knowing what’s on his mind. 

After a while, he notices the knowing look people give you when you take lunch in the cafeteria or walk along the gardens. And though he likes to keep such matters private, he enjoys people knowing he’s yours now. 

He’s relieved that the suggestive smiles and gifts ease up and that people know where his heart truly lies. 

He pulls you close on the bench, kissing your head with a content smile, unaware of the daggers aiming with deadly precision from a few floors above. 

♡ ya'll better watch out for that one. (¬_¬) like I'm picturing her with our voodoo doll

[sonotcopingatall]

stay with me

momo x fem!reader

synopsis: you and momo share a silent, charged moment, both uncertain yet drawn to what’s unfolding between you.

wc: 1.2k

author’s note: happy MOMO day! i wanted to write something that shows that sometimes silence is the best way to communicate. inspired by blackpink’s “stay”. also NOT proofread, dont make fun of me pls :( (i also know i posted something yesterday for momo but what’s the harm in posting something again?)

the night had settled quietly over the city, a blanket of soft silence that felt strangely heavy. momo sat on the couch, her legs curled underneath her, staring out of the window at the rain that was now falling in sheets. it wasn’t a storm, but it felt relentless, like the sky was trying to wash away something.

she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be washed away or if she just wanted the rain to drown out the noise inside her head. It had been building for weeks — the way her thoughts kept drifting to you when they shouldn’t, the way her chest tightened every time you brushed against her, even the way her pulse picked up when you laughed, when your hand accidentally grazed hers.

the friendship had always been easy, simple. but recently, everything felt… different. she hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t planned it. she had never meant for her feelings to grow the way they had. but there was no turning back now.

momo sighed, her fingers tapping restlessly against her phone, scrolling without really looking at anything. Her mind kept circling back to you. it was frustrating. it wasn’t like she didn’t know you were important to her. you were her best friend; someone she trusted completely. but this… this was new, and it felt like she was teetering on the edge of something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

the quiet in the room deepened, and momo glanced at the clock. you should have been back from your errands by now. it was late, the kind of late where everything seemed to slow down, where emotions felt more intense than they usually did during the day. she didn’t realize how much she had been waiting for you until she heard the door creak open.

you stepped inside, damp from the rain. the familiar scent of your perfume filled the room — soft, floral, and grounding, and for some reason, it made her heart skip a beat. you didn’t immediately notice her, your eyes still on the ground as you shook the rain off your coat. but when you finally looked up, your gaze met hers, and momo felt like she was being pulled into it, like the whole world had disappeared and all that was left was you.

you didn’t say anything, just stood there for a moment, the space between you two thick with something unspoken. momo could feel it — the shift that had started weeks ago, the quiet tension that had been slowly building. it wasn’t just her. she could tell you felt it too. but neither of you had acknowledged it yet.

she bit her lip, unsure of what to say or if saying anything at all would only make everything harder. she wanted to say something, but words felt too heavy right now. so instead, she just gestured to the space beside her on the couch.

you hesitated for a moment before moving toward her, the sound of your footsteps soft on the wooden floor. when you sat down beside her, the space between you was small, but it felt like an entire world. you didn’t look at her immediately. instead, you pulled your coat off, draping it over the arm of the couch. your body was close enough that momo could feel the heat radiating off you, but neither of you said anything.

the rain outside continued its steady rhythm, the soft hum of it filling the space between you, drowning out everything else. you were both just there. not talking, just being.

momo couldn’t help but glance at you out of the corner of her eye. you were so close, and yet it felt like there was a distance between you that neither of you knew how to close. her heart was thudding in her chest, loud enough that she was sure you could hear it. every time you shifted, every time your arm brushed against hers, it felt like a spark.

she took a breath, trying to steady herself. she wanted to reach out to you, to ask if you were feeling the same way, to do something to break the tension, but she didn’t. instead, she kept her hands folded in her lap, her fingers pressing into the fabric of her jeans to keep them from trembling.

but then, without thinking, you moved closer. just a small shift in your seat, but it was enough. your knee brushed against hers, and momo froze, her breath catching in her throat. the touch was so small, so subtle, and yet it felt like everything had just shifted.

it wasn’t the first time this had happened — this quiet brush of skin, this unspoken connection — but tonight, everything felt magnified. momo could feel the heat of your body next to hers, the warmth of your presence pressing against her. it made her feel alive in a way she wasn’t ready to admit, a way that scared her.

she didn’t know how much time passed, but she found herself leaning a little closer, drawn to you like a magnet. it was almost like the air had changed, thickened with something neither of you had said out loud, but both of you understood all too well.

finally, you shifted again, your hand subtly moving toward hers. momo’s heart skipped, the simple motion so small, yet so full of meaning. for a moment, she was still, unsure of what to do, but when your fingers gently brushed against hers, everything inside her seemed to click into place.

the touch was soft, almost like a question. you weren’t rushing. you were waiting. and momo felt that. she felt the patience in the way your hand lingered, offering her space to decide.

slowly, without thinking, she let her hand fall into yours, the warmth of your skin sending a wave of relief through her. it wasn’t an answer, not yet, but it was a beginning.

you didn’t look at her, not yet. instead, you let your fingers curl around hers, the simple act of holding hands saying more than either of you could have in a thousand words. it was like everything had led to this moment — this quiet, unspoken understanding between the two of you.

momo closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the quiet. the city lights outside, the steady rhythm of the rain, the warmth of your hand in hers — it all felt so still, so perfect, as if time had paused just for the two of you.

without realizing it, momo shifted slightly, moving a little closer, her shoulder gently brushing against yours. she didn’t know what this was, where it was leading, but in that moment, all she wanted was to be here with you.

you didn’t say anything. there was no need to. the space between you had been filled with something soft, something quiet, and the air between you had shifted — just enough to change everything.

momoleaned her head against your shoulder, closing her eyes and letting herself relax into the moment. she felt safe here. she felt seen.

and for the first time in a long while, momo realized that whatever came next, she wasn’t afraid. not anymore.

she could stay like this forever.

echoes of silence, featuring sana | ^.^ | back to masterlist | ^.^ | for you, featuring momo

[hhghgt]

How ep 6 should have ended:

Buck barely remembers how he ended up here. All he knows is that, after Tommy left him, he’d stumbled out of his apartment with a six-pack, and somehow, his legs had brought him to Eddie’s place. Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight—hell, he knew he wasn’t. Eddie’s house had become his refuge so many times over the years, and tonight, it was the only place he could imagine feeling any semblance of comfort.

When Eddie opened the door, Buck shoved a cold beer into his hand and stormed into the living room, collapsing onto the couch in a daze. Eddie quietly followed, sitting down beside him, and for a while, the only sounds between them were the clicks of bottles opening, the quiet sighs of breath as they drank, and the creak of the couch under their weight.

By the time Buck’s fourth—or maybe fifth—beer was empty, eddie asks: “Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice, soft but steady, broke the silence that had lingered since Buck had walked in.

“Tommy’s gone,” Buck mumbled after a long pause, his voice rougher than he’d expected. “Left me. Just… left.”

Eddie nodded, taking it in quietly, just understanding. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Buck let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, leaning back and letting his head fall against the couch. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed that—someone just sitting with him, letting him be a mess without asking for answers.

“I don’t know why I keep ending up here, Eddie. You’d think… I don’t know… you’d think I’d learn by now that I’m not good at this. Not good at… keeping people around.”

Eddie shifted a bit closer, his voice lowering, warm and steady.“Maybe you don’t have to try so hard. Maybe… someone’s been here all along, just waiting for you to notice.” The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

The words settled between them, weighted and deliberate. Buck turned his head, meeting Eddie’s gaze for the first time that night, his friend’s steady look holding something more. There was a softness there he hadn’t noticed, the absence of Eddie’s usual guarded expression making him look almost vulnerable, raw in a way that struck something deep in Buck, made his heart stammer in his chest, leaving him feeling vulnerable, caught off guard.

And then he noticed the details he’d missed. Eddie’s face was clean-shaven, bare without the mustache. His gaze tracing over the lines of his face and the sight was… distracting, almost intimate in a way he hadn’t expected. And then he noticed the rest: Eddie was missing more than just the mustache. His legs were bare, stretched out, his white shirt hanging low, skimming just above his thighs. He was sweaty and flushed maybe he was warking out or something.

“Uh…” Buck blinked, the haze of alcohol and exhaustion blurring into something else as he kept staring, taking in the sight of Eddie, his best friend, looking so casually undone, his face bare and softened in the low light, relaxed yet alert, like he was waiting for something from Buck that Buck hadn’t even realized he wanted to give.

“You’re staring,” Eddie whispered, his tone somewhere between teasing and serious, his voice pulling Buck back from his daze.

Buck swallowed, his own voice barely a whisper. “Where are your pants? And… the mustache?” A nervous chuckle escaped him, half a laugh, half something else he couldn’t name.

Eddie grinned, low and easy, like he knew something Buck didn’t. “You don’t like it?”

The question lingered, and Buck couldn’t look away. “No, I mean… yeah, I like it,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks flush as he realized just how much he was still staring, caught between the unexpected closeness of Eddie beside him and the hum of energy that buzzed between them. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. It felt like it was building toward something, something he didn’t want to break, It felt like Eddie was letting him figure it out, letting him find the words. Buck finally looked up again, meeting Eddie’s steady gaze. "Maybe… maybe you’re right," he admitted softly, the thought both terrifying and grounding. "Maybe I don’t have to keep looking."

They were close enough that Buck could feel Eddie’s breath against his skin, could see the way Eddie’s eyes darkened, gaze locked on him, waiting.

“Buck…” Eddie’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with something raw, something that sent a shiver down Buck’s spine.

Without thinking, Buck closed the remaining distance, his lips brushing against Eddie’s in a tentative kiss, soft and questioning, yet charged with all the weight of the words they hadn’t said. Eddie responded instantly, his hand coming up to the back of Buck’s neck, fingers threading through his hair as he deepened the kiss, the warmth of his touch grounding Buck in a way he’d never felt before.

Buck had always thought being with Abby and then Tommy had changed him—made him see parts of himself he hadn’t understood before.

But being here with Eddie was something else entirely. It didn’t feel like he was changing for Eddie or even because of him. Instead, being with Eddie felt like coming back to himself, like shedding the layers he’d worn to fit into other people’s lives. With Eddie, he didn’t have to try so hard to be what he thought someone else needed. Eddie didn’t ask him to change; he just saw him, accepted him in a way that made Buck feel seen in a way he never had before.

With Eddie, it wasn’t about transformation—it was about finally feeling whole, like he was exactly where he was meant to be, as he was. Eddie gave him space to just be Buck, flaws and all, and Buck realized that maybe this was the kind of love he’d been searching for all along, one that didn’t require him to be anything other than himself.

Eddie wasn’t just someone who had walked into his life and left a mark—he was the one who stayed, the one who showed up time and time again, even when Buck was at his worst.

[violetmuses]

Terry Richmond + Female Reader ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Rebel Ridge” Film Universe

Character: Terry Richmond

Main Storyline: Your “best friend” offers some news.

@episodes-ff @becauseimswagman1 @helloncrocs @diaries-of-me @liquorlaughslove @babybratzmaraj @cloveroctobers 🏷

This Idea 📞

====

2024

Blocking time off from work, you noticed that your cell phone started ringing out of nowhere.

Officer Jessica Sims from the Shelby Springs Police Department called.

“Jess?” Picking up this afternoon, you definitely responded.

“Girl! I'm so sorry for not reaching out, but guess what?” J's Southern accent revealed itself.

“Don't worry.” You're fully aware that the rural precinct struggled now. “What happened?”

“Think I found your husband.” Despite that police station keeping vintage technology, you noticed Jessica's humor loud and clear.

“Oh, God!” You nearly laughed out loud. “What are you talking about?”

“I helped out this man earlier and…” Jessica wouldn't go on.

“Spit it out, J!” You kept listening to her no matter what.

“I'm working, but we don't have reception outdoors.” Jessica cleared her throat for a moment. “He's fine.”

“Don't play matchmaker again.” You quickly rolled both eyes.

“Listen: Light eyes, in shape with service tattoos, and acts respectful.” Jessica detailed this man.

“Sounds too good to be true.” For once, you don't believe her.

“Visit tomorrow. He's still in town. Bye!” Jessica dropped the call before you could say anything else.

Here we go. You thought.

*****

Uniformed once more, Jessica traded this brief smile when you entered the department.

“I'm here. What's going on?” You spoke quietly en route to her desk.

“I'll explain everything.” Sims then faced your direction.

Just before you could sit down and learn gossip, the door opened again.

Leaving her desk behind, Jessica held your wrist and you both hid near one corner, watching whoever arrived.

“What's wrong?” Your voice immediately whispered to Jess.

“That's him!” As Jessica pointed upfront, her accent pulled all over again.

Uh-oh. This time around, you finally realized what Sims meant.

Remarkable eyes noticed the building and service tattoos inked along his muscular frame.

This morning, the handsome individual paired another tight shirt with jeans and sneakers.

“Go back to work. We'll talk soon.” You prompted Jessica to speak with this man.

“All right. Pardon me…” Jessica excused herself from your side and sat down, addressing the man.

******

“Who was that?” When Officer Jessica Sims found her longtime desk this morning, veteran Terry Richmond chuckled through his deep tone.

“My friend…” Jessica would pull this vague response.

“I could use some good news at this point.” Terry encouraged Jessica. “What were y'all talking about?”

“Nothing.” Jess shrugged while beginning to work as usual. “How are you holding up with the case?”

“No better than before.” Richmond lost bail money for his cousin during an altercation with law enforcement. “Know any lawyers if I can't reach out on Monday?”

“Attorneys pool from the local courthouse, but workloads get swamped over there.” Jessica declined.

“Fair enough, but you didn't answer my other question.” Terry arched his brow.

“Which question?” Jessica asked.

“What were y'all talking about?” Catching Sims red-handed, Terry's smile offered brightness.

“Should I tell the truth?” Jessica spoke up for many reasons.

“I don't appreciate falsehoods.” Terry crossed both arms.

“You.” Jessica stopped playing around and headed out for lunch. “Good luck with your case.”

Right when Officer Sims walked away, Terry glanced down and noticed a sticky note waiting on her desk.

Jessica had discreetly written your phone number on paper.

******

“Sorry.” Terry apologized when you first met him up close. Drama flew all over the police station now.

“Everyone hopes for better circumstances around here.” You picked up Richmond and started driving away from this hospital.

On the other hand, medics helped legal assistant Summer McBride for various reasons.

“Sims told me about you.” Terry changed the subject.

“Surprised you didn't call me first.” You know that Jessica slipped your phone number by this man.

“Chief got in the way.” Richmond almost laughed and chided Sandy Burne.

“Where should we go since you're free?” You learned that Terry confirmed this settlement for this case, especially with his cousin Mike gone.

“Anywhere you want.” Terry grinned toward you and watched the city limits disappear.

[kiwriteswords]

Hii I love your writing!! I just wanted to ask if you could write a little Hotch x BAU!reader oneshot where the reader is on her period and Hotch takes care of her!! I need that right now

A Quiet Kind of Care

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I could have used an Aaron Hotchner last week when this was me! Thanks so much for sending this one in, Anon. It was a fun one to write on my day off today!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: >1k

Tags/Warnings: Secret Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tender Moments, Reader who gets a period, Soft!Hotch

Sypnosis: After a long, grueling day on a case, you push through your discomfort to keep up with the team, all while secretly dating Aaron Hotchner. When you finally retreat to the privacy of your hotel room, Hotch’s quiet attentiveness and subtle gestures of care remind you just how much he understands your needs, offering a moment of solace and connection away from prying eyes.

Aaron's keen observation skills were not just a professional asset but a personal one, too. His years of marriage to Haley had honed his awareness of the women in his life, including you. He could discern the subtle signs of discomfort and weariness that often remained unspoken, understanding that even the strongest women needed a little extra care at times.

He’d caught on gradually—the way you’d press a hand to your lower back or shift uncomfortably in your chair during long briefings, the slight furrow in your brow that signaled more than just stress. There were times he noticed you reach instinctively toward your abdomen, only to lower your hand quickly, as if not wanting anyone to see. He saw these little signs, things the rest of the team might overlook but which he couldn’t ignore.

As he watched you navigate the case with more determination than usual, Aaron didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Instead, he offered a steadfast presence, quietly supporting you in small ways throughout the day—taking on more physical tasks, and giving you brief respites, all while keeping a watchful eye on you.

When the day finally wrapped, he made his way to your room, ready to be there for you in the way he knew you’d never ask but that he was more than willing to offer. One of the things he loved most about you was your strength and resilience. And yet, as much as he admired it, he wanted you to know that you didn’t always have to be strong with him.

The hotel hallway was quiet; the sounds of the bustling day long faded into stillness. It had been a grueling day on the case, with too many close calls and endless hours spent in the field. You were exhausted, your entire body aching, and the discomfort of your period only worsened your fatigue. Despite the pain, you’d managed to keep it all under wraps, not wanting the team to notice or, worse, worry. But Aaron—Aaron always knew.

As you leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Aaron, a wave of relief washed over you at the thought of being alone with him. The quiet knock on the door signaled his arrival, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm and anticipation.

A quiet knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Aaron standing there, his gaze gentle, softened with concern.

“Come in,” you whispered, letting him in quickly and quietly.

Once inside, he closed the door softly, turning back to you with a small, knowing smile that held all the warmth and reassurance you needed. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, steady embrace. His hand settled at the middle of your back, his fingers spreading wide, grounding you as he held you close.

Slowly, he began to run his hand up and down your spine, a soothing rhythm that seemed to melt away the tension you’d been carrying all day. His other arm tightened around your shoulders, drawing you even closer as if shielding you from the day’s lingering stress. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to his heart's steady, calming beat, letting it lull you into a place of warmth and safety. His chin came to rest lightly atop your head, and he exhaled as if he, too, had needed this moment just as much.

You felt the day's weight slip away in his arms, replaced by a quiet sense of peace that only Aaron could give. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the door forgotten.

“You’ve been pushing yourself all day,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with concern. “You could’ve let me help sooner, you know.”

​​You sighed, leaning into his shoulder with a small smile. “It’s just part of the job. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He looked at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You don’t have to hide with me. Here—sit down.”

Aaron guided you over to the bed, settling you comfortably. He’d brought a small bag with him, and you watched as he pulled out a few items: a water bottle, some painkillers, and a small heating pad. You raised an eyebrow in surprise, touched by the thoughtfulness.

“When did you even get those?” you asked softly, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the heating pad.

He chuckled, settling beside you, reaching to plug the heating pad into the outlet beside the bed.

“I have my ways.” He placed the heating pad gently against your stomach, and the warmth was an immediate relief, easing the cramps that had been gnawing at you all day. “You don’t think I’d let you suffer alone, do you?”

You leaned more fully against his shoulder, feeling the tension start to slip away as he wrapped an arm around you. His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips tracing gentle, soothing lines across your stomach, each movement easing the ache a little more. He stayed quiet, his steady breathing a calming rhythm, grounding you as you let yourself relax into him.

“You know,” he whispered after a while, “it wouldn’t hurt to tell me these things sooner. You don’t have to act tough with me.”

You looked up at him, catching the glint of tenderness in his eyes. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

He gently kissed your forehead, his lips warm and soft. “You could never be a bother.”

You stayed wrapped in his arms, the silence between you filled with the quiet understanding that was so uniquely yours. Moments like this, hidden from the rest of the world, were precious—just you and Aaron, no titles, no cases, just two people caring for each other in the simplest, truest way.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings