#i will probably come back and finish this series when i can be a little more chill about it

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I think my least favorite thing on the internet is how quick people are to call characters toxic just because they don't like them.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My paternal grandmother was a librarian. I only got to see that set of grandparents once a year as they lived out of state. I fondly remember summers spent at their house watching That Darn Cat and The King and I on loop, hunting for water skippers in the back creek, and reading the entirety of the Peanuts comics.

Because my grandma was a librarian she was delighted to foster my love of reading. We made trips to the library every week. One summer when I was seven or so I got really into this kids series about princesses all named after gemstones, each had a unique magic power.

At the end of each book was a puzzle or some extra bit of lore to decode. All of them were easily copied down in some way. Until I got to Sapphire’s book. At the end of the story Princess Sapphire was in peril! She needed a hero to come save her from a terrible fate. And there, on the last page, was a decoder device. It needed to be cut out and assembled.

I had to help save the Princess!!! In the iron grip of a fever of imagination I immediately found scissors and started carefully cutting the page. The page warned only to use scissors with an adult present and I scoffed to think I needed supervision just for scissors! I was a hero!Her plight called to me from the pages, imaginings of how I would daringly rescue the beautiful sweet Princess Sapphire ran through my little brain-

And about halfway up the page toward my goal I froze. This was a library book. I couldn’t cut a library book! What was I doing?! Even now in my memory it stands as a glaring example of the first time I mastered impulse control. Tragically, too late.

I was distraught. My grandma had a sacred duty to books and I, villain that I was, had defiled a precious tome! I wallowed for some time in abject misery, experiencing the greatest amount of guilt my tiny body had ever previously held. I’d probably go to jail. For a crime as monumental as wielding scissors against a book I wouldn’t even get dessert in jail.

Gradually, I processed my way through the grief of my vile deeds. I couldn’t have the decoder, I slowly accepted. That might be punishment enough. And I had only cut the page halfway. So it was only half a crime... It wasn’t illegal to lie when you’d aborted an evil act, right?

I didn’t know but I didn’t want to face my grandma’s potential wrath. I have no memory of my grandma ever yelling at me. I waited until the next day to approach her.

“Grandma? I finished my book and when I got to the end I saw someone had cut the page! They probably wanted the decoder because I also want that but it was very bad to cut a book, wasn’t it?”

My grandma regarded me benignly. She carefully took the book to observe it and nodded. “It’s good to see that they stopped before they cut it all the way out. Let’s go tape this together, and then I can photocopy the page and we can make you a decoder.”

I was ecstatic. Rewarded for my honesty! I created and cracked codes for the rest of summer with the flimsy paper creation we’d made. I genuinely doubt my grandma believed that I wasn’t the perpetrator, but I loved that she acknowledged that the person responsible stopped.

[asidian]

Dead Boy Detectives does a lot of things very, very well, but one thing I haven't seen touched on very much is set design. It is phenomenal, and the amount of detail that's gone into literally every scene is truly mind-blowing. I'm going to do a couple of posts breaking down the setting details in various locations I think, but I wanted to start with one that does an incredible amount of storytelling in the tiny understated details.

So let's talk about Charles' room from when he was still alive.

Some of the details are quite small, but I've circled and numbered them so that I can discuss them more easily.

First up, and this one doesn't have a number because it's the entire room, but. They have this boy down in the basement. In a cramped little space that looks like it's twice the size of a twin bed.

Then we come to all the little things that make it so much worse:

1: Charles' room is covered with band posters. If you look closely though, these aren't the kind of posters you'd buy in a store. These are the sorts of posters that they display at venues when a band is in town. Every one of them that's readable has locations/dates/sales info. These aren't someone buying Charles something of his own, to decorate his room with. This is Charles "My smile is pretty convincing" Rowland going to venues after the band has finished its run and asking for the posters to take home.

2: It's hard to tell from the angle, but it looks like he has a couple of model airplanes up on the ceiling. Okay, this one's kind of cute.

3: Again, hard to tell from the angle, but it looks like he has a shelf of sports trophies tucked away back there. This boy tries so damn hard.

4: A dart board. Huh. That's funny. Where are the darts?

5: Oh, here they are. They're outside the room! Like his asshole father! Stole his darts! And threw them at the door!!

6: Probably a boombox, presumably the one that he used to play the tape mentioned in the Devlin house episode. Notably, there are no tapes in sight. Did his father break his only tape?

7: The world's saddest bed, with a ratty old pillow and one (1) single sheet.

8: And as if we needed any more heartbreak in this scene, that's Charles' cricket bat there in the corner. His weapon of choice? The thing he picks up to defend Edwin, over and over, episode after episode, for the entire series? He's cowering practically on top of it while his father beats him. He didn't so much as touch it when it was himself that needed defending.

You're welcome. If I have to be heartbroken over set dressing, I'm dragging you all with me.

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[seungfl0wer]

*Lee know Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Lee Know x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Arguing, Cursing, A sort of happy ending?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Cutting up some veggies as you watched your boyfriend cook dinner, he was always so handsome like this so in his zone. As you got done cutting you brought it over to him. Standing by his side as he went to grab something you would hand it to him, He moved you would move. You thought to yourself how sweet this moment was however that’s not exactly what he was thinking. He was getting frustrated cause as much as he really loved when you helped the kitchen was too small for you both to be doing stuff.

“Y/n can you please give me a little bit of space” he said his tone sounding annoyed. You looked up at him feeling bad for bothering him so you slumped back into the chair. “Why don’t you set the table?” He asked seeing your reaction. You nod feeling a bit upset as you did so. You both sat down to eat finishing the delicious food fast before plopping yourselves down on the couch to watch a movie.

You wanted to make it up to him for bothering him while he was in his element so you wrapped your arms around him snuggling up to him. He let out a small sigh as you did so, you looked up to the man who was trying to focus on the movie. His face stern looking still with a hint of that annoyance from earlier. “Hey babe is everything alright? You seem on edge today?” You said softly trying to read his face. “It’s fine” he said blankly still keeping his attention on the tv.

“Love please, talk to me I can tell something’s up. Is it work? Did I do something?” You went on rambling before he cut you off “y/n please. Can we just watch the damn movie.” He hissed his voice harsher than it was supposed to be “can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” You said not wanting to drop it, although you probably should have. “For fuck sakes y/n!” He said turning off the tv and getting up “you have been- been so clingy lately. You have been up my ass since we came back from the US. Why can’t I just get a few minutes of just peace. First you won’t leave me alone while I’m cooking and now I can’t even watch a damn movie without fucking 50 questions!” His voice echoed across the room.

Your heart was pounding trying all you had not to cry “I’m fucking sorry I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a month, god fucking forbid me for wanting to spend time with him!” You hissed back. You stood up quickly walking to your room, you grabbed a bag and packed some clothes as Minho continued behind you. “It’s one thing to fucking miss me y/n but it feels like you’d want to sit on my lap while I take a fucking shit cause you ���miss me so much” you act like we didn’t talk at all which again had me no fucking time to myself!”

You put your bag over your shoulder “Fine you want alone time so fucking bad! Then be alone Minho!” You said storming towards the front door. Your mind raced as you could feel the tears pulling at the corners. No. No crying he doesn’t get to see that. “Good! That’s exactly what I fucking wanted, I’m happy you get the fucking message now!” He said still yelling behind you. You bit your lip his words cutting deeper each time he spoke. You turned around quickly feeling the tears coming “fuck you Minho! I’m- I’m fucking done!” You spat almost running out the door you could hear him before you were out “me fucking too!”

You had gone to a friend’s house to stay she held you close rubbing your back trying to console you. Everything hurt, your head was spinning, your eyes red from crying cheeks stained with tears. “Want me to get some of that cake you like so much and we can sit and eat it while watching horror movies” she said smiling “why horror movies?” You said smiling a bit “cause at least dumb men die in it” she laughed making you laugh too. She was always such a good friend knowing exactly what to say and do to make you feel better.

After Minho calmed down a bit he sat back down on the couch. He turned the movie back on but quickly turned it off “damnit, even when they’re not here they ruin it.” He said throwing the remote back down to the table. He laid back on the couch looking up at the ceiling he felt a heaviness in his chest “no I wanted alone time” he said shaking his head “I wanted this..” his words trailed off. “But why’s it feel so bad.” He said with a deep sigh.

He looked at his phone wanting to text you but not daring too. He knew he was out of line but he didn’t want to be the first to admit. Your words ringing in his head though “I’m done.” What did you mean? Were you ending the relationship? The thought of this made a lump in Minhos throat. Surly you weren’t serious right? .. Right??

Almost a week had passed with radio silence on both ends. It wasn’t like either of you didn’t wanna message the other but neither of you wanted to do it first.

You had thought about things a lot, you decided about going home and just staying in the guest room. You knew Minho wasn’t home at the moment and all though your friend had a great idea “just move out while he’s not home, give him the ultimate alone time he wants” you couldn’t afford that right now. And quite frankly why does he get to keep the place and you move?

You walked into your apartment thinking of what exactly to do. Your head spinning a bit from thoughts “what the fuck am I even gonna say?” You said to yourself “are we even together anymore?” You sighed loudly you stood there for a good minute or two before making your way to the bedroom. You scrounged up most of your things moving it into the guest room you felt yourself wanting to cry again “fuck you” you said softly. You locked the door, put on some music and just curled up into a ball. You had fallen asleep quickly the feeling of being in your home making you sleep easier.

Minho had come home late walking through the door to see your shoes on the floor. His face looked confused before he heard music playing “did she come home?” He said to himself making his way to what was your shared bedroom. He looked over it seeing you had taken stuff he felt his heart sink. He saw the small light coming from under the guest rooms door making the thoughts of you moving disappear. He walked to the door trying to open it realizing it was locked he was about to knock before stopping himself.

He signed a bit walking to the living room, he slumped into the couch all sorts of emotions whirling in his head. He slowly fell asleep only to be woken up by the sounds of you coming out of the room. You quietly tried sneaking to the door your belly rumbling. He quickly turned his head to meet your eyes locking. You both were still for a second before he let out a soft “leaving?”

You shook your head no “7/11” you said trying to keep it short. You made your way to the door putting your shoes on “I- I can make you something.” His voice barely a whisper at this point. “No thank you” you said before leaving out the door. This is how it stayed for about a week. Minho tried talking to you and you just giving him one word answers. He came home from work you’d slink back into your room. He’d come into the kitchen, you’d leave just as quickly.

He started doing small things for you like leaving you breakfast in the morning, or buying your favorite drink to keep in the fridge. He usually did these things always being thoughtful in these sweet kind of actions. It made your heart hurt more. One of the days he made you your favorite lunch, he didn’t do it often because it meant going about an hour away to the restaurant to pick it up but he did. He did in the morning before he had to be at work driving there and back before his already long day.

When you saw it in the morning you started to bawl like a baby. Minho had come back home after realizing he left his phone on the counter. You were curled up on the couch listening to some of his solo music crying into a pillow. He stood there not wanting to bother you but wanting nothing more than to hold you and make things right. He started making his way towards you before you heard him your head shot up eyes meeting his. Your body moved fast tackling him almost knocking you both down.

“Min I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” you choked out tears streaming down your face ugly crying “I’m sorry for being clingy I’m sorry for being a bother- I’ll change I’ll give you more space I’m sorry I just can’t- I can’t do this anymore I miss you- everything hurts-“ you said between sobs and wiping the snot that was running down. Minho couldn’t help but cry at your words, he really had broken you. “No- y/n please don’t change, this all was because of me I’m the asshole I’m the one that should be apologizing.” He said his chest heaving.

“Don’t change please I’m sorry for calling you clingy please- I miss you, cling to me. Hold onto me for dear life please I need you..” he voice getting stuck in his throat. You’ve never seen him like this, he always kept his emotions under control but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Life has no meaning if I can’t spend it with you, if I can’t have you by my side with that shining smile of yours. The smile that I haven’t seen in how long. I ruined everything. I hurt you I ruined us things won’t ever be the same.”

His voice horse crying even harder than you now “you should hate me, you should want me to jump off a bridge. I don’t know- I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” He was rambling on. You felt your heart just braking again, he was so defeated and part of you wanted nothing more than to tell him this is exactly what he wanted. And you’d be right, but you just wanted him back, wanted things back to how they were.

You pulled Minho down to the couch both of you sobbing trying to calm yourselves. You both cried for almost a full half hour before you spoke “Things.. things will be different either way.. you.. we gotta build that trust back up” you said softly clearing your throat. “Let’s start off slow ok?” You said lifting his head to make eye contact with you.

“Well start small and work on things hmm?” You said repeating yourself. He nodded “can.. can you come back to our room?” He said whipping his nose “eventually, I will let’s start off with just trying to talk through some things ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “I love you Minho but what you said hurt and will still probably hurt in the future. But I really do love you and would rather work on things and hopefully fix it than just to through it away so easily.” You said pulling him into a hug.

“Anything, I’ll do anything to show you how sorry I am.” He said his words muffled by your shoulder. You nod sitting there in silence both of you trying to gather your thoughts and catch your breath.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[maxwellatoms]

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

There’s a learning curve that comes with being married to someone who wasn’t human. Even more so when it was an arranged marriage and you were sort of just tossed into it.

Your husband was a good man though, a towering 8.5ft tall monster with elephant-like tusks and a whole culture you were still learning, be he took care of you well.

The first time you got your period living together he had no idea what was going on, but happily waiting on you hand and foot. Making sure he brought you pain medicine, snacks, and rubbed your aching joints.

The second time, he walked in on you desperately rubbing your clit to relax some of the cramps away. You were embarrassed beyond words, not that you hadn’t already slept together, but it was still quite the situation to be caught in.

“You know, I can help with that too” he shrugged and sat down the snacks he was bringing for you.

“It’s fine, it’s messy” you shrugged and stopped.

“I don’t care. You know I don’t mind blood” he responded.

“It’s fine”.

“Will it help you feel better?”

“Yeah”

“Then let me” he pushed.

You were not entirely sure what he had in mind, but he seemed pretty eager to help.

“Ok” you conceded.

He wasted no time helping you undress and peppering you with little kisses before settling down to kneel between your legs.

“Oh no no no, you really don’t have to” you began.

“I want to” he said as he lifted your hips up so he could tuck his tusks under you.

You felt his tongue immediately on your clit, the pressure and movements you liked, even better you felt the vibrations from his purring against your clit. He continued, working you over until you were a mewling mess. Once he was satisfied he slipped his tongue between your folds and then pressed into your entrance.

Within minutes you were already close. Between his large tongue giving you a pleasant stretch and the vibrations of his purring. You reached down to pull in his hair, needing to touch him any way you could reach, which only encouraged him more. His tongued was constantly against your g-spot and you enjoyed how every time he seemed to try to explore every inch of you.

He came from a species that did not normally go down, tusks got in the way too much, but once he learned it was an option he made sure to learn how to for you. It was always somewhat of an inelegant affair, his mouth open too far, drooling, no technique, but he did make up for it in sheer enthusiasm.

Your toes curled and you felt the familiar build and release as tingly waves of pleasure diffuse from head to toe. It was nothing intense this time, but he continued well after you finished, making sure beyond a doubt you were sleepy and satisfied.

He finally surfaced, leaning his head against your thigh and looking up at you with such a soft expression, “Feeling better?” he asked.

“For sure” you sighed and affectionately scratched his head.

He got up and went to go clean himself up and returned with clean sheets for the bed after everything. After settling down in bed with you he pulled you up against his chest, your back to him, and put his hands on your tummy, the best hot water bottle for cramps.

You fell asleep easily like that, feeling satisfied and cared for, and happy knowing you could probably swap a few doses of pain medicine for some time with your husband.

(Note: I kept it general, but the husband is from my ongoing Arranged Marriage series in my pinned post!)

[kkcauseway]

Forever and Always

Joel Miller x F!reader.

Summary I Your work life is awful and there's nothing you want more after an exhausting day both mentally and physically than to come home to Joel, but on calling him and finding out that's not possible you're dreading the thought of going home to be alone. However, it doesn't seem that that's the case once you actually make it back, and it turns into once of the best and happiest nights of your life. Content/warnings I So much cute fluff, Joel Miller being the most doting and caring boyfriend. 'babygirl', Joel has a cute little saying to let reader know just how much he loves her. Asking to move in together. No use of y/n, no outbreak. A/N I Once again another random idea that popped into my head that I decided to run with. I really hope you enjoy soppy, cute Joel taking care of his woman!

Main masterlist

It always puts a smile on his face when you call. Your name working wonders for the grumpy moods he finds himself in on jobs. Even with the jokes he cracks with Tommy. Nothing compares to when he’s with you, talking to you. Just doing anything that involves you. “Hey baby you, okay?” His husky voice grumbles down the receiver once he’s removed himself away from the bustle of the house, he’s currently working in.

“Joel?” You sniff.

His smile falters. Something is obviously wrong, and whatever’s happened he’ll kill them. No one upsets you. “Babe? Hey, hey what’s wrong?”

“I- sniff- I’m just having such a horrible day. I can’t stand this job anyone, I wana quit so bad. Please can you come over when I finish?” The sobs grow in volume as you force a hand to your mouth to try to quiet them. The impact of hearing those words leave your own mouth proving to you just how much you rely on him.

“Oh baby m’so sorry you’re having a shitty day. Listen we’re on a bad job today m’not gonna finish till super late so I most likely can’t come round. But I’ll call you later okay y’can tell me all about it okay baby. Promise.”

“Okay” you sniff upset he can’t come but you knew he was busy and that it was a long shot. You pine after him when you feel vulnerable like this.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” He grumbles evidently worried he’s in the doghouse.

“I know. I love you too so much.”

“Forever and always baby girl.”

The words making your heart flutter as they always do.

When the call cuts you hold your phone against your chest and sob a little more before psyching yourself up for your afternoon. Your colleagues don’t deserve to know just how bad they make you feel, they’d probably thrive on it if they knew.

So, instead you sort yourself out wash your face, wait till your eyes are less puffy, paint on your smile and go about the remainder of your shift thank fuck it’s Friday.

Of course no one notices, why would they when they make it clear how much they can’t stand you being around.

-

Finally five o’clock arrives and you rush out to your car as quick as you can. Putting on the cheesy cd playlist Joel made you. You love that he’s like that, so unbelievably cheesy, so old fashioned it’s why you adore him the way you do. When yours and Joel’s song comes on tears escape you again. God you’ve never loved someone the way you love him, but these tears you’re spilling are tears of happiness not pain.

When you make it home your shitty mood overcomes you again, the thought of your empty apartment and cold bed. So you settle on the idea of a large glass of red wine, a crappy comfort series and a good cry before you go to sleep. You’re have a day trip with Joel planned tomorrow and that’s enough to keep you going.

However, it’s like you can tell something’s off from the second your key is in the door. After momentarily hesitating you uneasily open your door and those thoughts are made true. Your apartment isn’t dark, cold, nor is it empty. The smell of food hits you so mouth-wateringly beautiful, and the radio is playing softly.

You kick off your shoes and move to the kitchen and there he is, Joel in all his glory slaving away over the stove. Dancing along to the music with an apron round his neck.

He turns to look at you with a smile on his face and it breaks you.

You stand on the spot throw your bag to the floor from your shoulder and cry. But he quickly rushes over “hey shhh it’s okay.” He cradles you close a hand on the back of your head pushing you closer to his chest. Allowing you to inhale his comforting scent.

“S’okay m’here baby.” He mumbles against your hair as he rests his lips against you. Holding you as close as possible.

After a few minutes you pull away red faced and puffy eyes to look up at him. “How did you get here I thought you were busy?”

“M’sorry baby, I know I didn’t think I’d be able to. And I’m so sorry that that made you upset, I really am, but as much as I am super busy at work the second, I heard you cryin’ I knew I needed to make sure I was finishin’ early so I could come over and see you, you mean more to me than any job, any amount of money. So I took a sick day for the remainder.”

“Thankyou” you whisper before moving to grasp at his stubbly cheeks. You smile sadly at him as your thumbs stroke him and then you move your lips to his, kissing him softly.

“I’ve made your favourite baby” he begins once you pull back away. Arms resting round his neck as you stand on your tip toes to be exactly in his eye-line. “And then I want you t’tell me all about this shitty day o’yours so we can get it outa your pretty head. You’re too beautiful to be burdened by that shit.”

You chuckle “I’d really like that, thank you so much for being here.”

“Always baby. Always.”

-

After a long moan fest over Joel’s signature spaghetti and meatballs, you’re cuddling on the couch with your long-awaited red wine.

Your difficult day long forgotten about which is why you love being around him so much, he really does make everything better. Just by being himself- so unapologetically himself.

You’re cuddled into him your feet kicked up behind you as he strokes your side. His calloused fingertips gliding lightly from your hip all the way up to the side of your breast, over and over causing constant goosebumps.

“You know v’been thinkin’” he mumbles softly into the silence.

“Shit did it hurt?” You chuckle as you jest with him, you love when you get the perfect opportunity to use that joke.

He pokes at your side in retaliation, and you giggle into it, loving every second of being with him.

“Seriously now though babygirl, sit up n’look at me.” 

Which you do without a moment’s hesitation. You pull away from him so you can face him sat on your knees.

God he’s gorgeous. His beautiful salt and pepper hair slightly longer than he would like but with you adoring him just like that he refuses to cut it.

He takes your hands in his and god it makes you nervous. Butterflies swim around in your stomach as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“I realised somethin’ today.”

Your breathing increases as you reply “what?”

He takes a nervous breath closing his eyes on the inhale and opening them back up to stare right back at you on the exhale. His perfectly pert lips opening just slightly to let the air out. He clears his throat as he shifts slightly in the seat. “Y’belong with me, all the time, all day every day, and it breaks my heart t’think that you could need me and we ain’t together.”

You smile softly at him, you know your rightful place is with him 24/7, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

But the next words to leave him are so far from what you expected it’s as though time stands still. “Move in w’me.”

“What?” You’re excited from the moment the words leave his lips, but you’re certain you misheard.

“I want you t’move in with me, get out of this lil apartment. Come make my house ours, let’s always be together. No more late nights alone let’s always be there together even if my stupid fuckin’ job means I get in at 2am.”

You squeal throwing your arms around his neck as you practically pounce on him. “Oh my god yes, yes, yes when?”

He chuckles pushing you back slightly so he’s able to look at you once more. “Well I mean we could start moving ya stuff in tomorrow, I know we said we’d go out for the day but-”

“No!” You say it all too quickly and he laughs “I wana move in let’s do that fuck the plans! We can do that any day!” You forcefully hug him again. Pulling away he’s beaming at you “do you promise you mean it?”

“With all my heart baby.” The hand he has resting on your back moves up and down slowly. So soothing, so full of love.

You scream in excitement before kissing him.

When you eventually pull away you look directly into his hooded eyes. “Forever and always?”

“Forever and always babygirl” and he rubs his nose against yours.

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

[and-claudia]

Yours (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

This is part one of a currently untitled mini series for Paddy from speak no evil (2024)

Warnings: Paddy (he is a warning himself), manipulation, age gap, drinking, infidelity, smut (with plot), unprotected sex, p in v, controlling relatives, fingering, multiple orgasms (i think that is it but if I missed one let me know)

This story will get dark. this is your warning, this part isn't really that dark and can be read as a stand-alone fic

summary: You are with your Aunt, Uncle and cousin on a small vacation in Italy where you befriend a couple and you take particular interest in Paddy

Word Count: 3700+

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

When I met him in Italy, I was immediately drawn to him. He was like no man I had ever met before—exciting, inviting, and intoxicating. He was significantly older than me, but maybe that is what I needed. All the guys my age were the same, and none of them had the charm that Paddy did. But he was married, and I had tried my best to respect that. 

However, that all changed when he invited me out a few nights after meeting. We were at dinner, and I was sitting beside my aunt, one seat down and across from Paddy. Drinks had just been served when Paddy eyed my drink. 

“Water? Really? On vacation?” He asked, noticing my lack of alcoholic beverage. 

“Oh, she doesn’t drink.” Louise said for me, causing me to roll my eyes. 

“What, why not? Personal health? Religion?” Paddy asked, tilting his head, his blue eyes soft. 

I side eyed my aunt before sighing and looking back to Paddy, “They’ve never let me.” 

Paddy pulled back with a shocked face, “Oh, come on! You’re on vacation! You’re an adult! Indulge a little. I’ll tell you what, order whatever you want, it’s on me.” He said. 

I smiled at him, “I appreciate it, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” I said honestly. 

He laughed, looking down and shaking his head before looking back at me. “Let me help.” 

He then proceeded to ask me a list of questions about my preferences, like if I liked sweet or bitter things, do I like fruity things, what flavors I preferred etc. Once he was, he nodded. 

“Okay, I think I got it. Do you trust me?” He asked, and I nodded. 

Then he flagged down the waiter and secretly ordered my drink for me. I could feel my aunt looking at me in slight disbelief. But I didn’t care. She and my uncle drank wine all the time. I was old enough to drink, so why not? 

Eventually, the waiter brought my drink to me and I hesitantly took a drink as Paddy watched with anticipation. 

“So?” 

“That’s really good.” I said honestly. 

Paddy clapped his hands in a small personal celebration, “Perfect!” 

Dinner continued on with conversation among all of us. I finished my drink and began drinking my water again. I was listening to my Uncle drone on about something when I saw Paddy flag down our waiter again and point to me before sending me a small wink. I was brought another drink, which I happily accepted. By the time dinner concluded, I had downed 3, and I was feeling it, especially once I stood up. 

“How we feeling?” Paddy asked. 

“Great.” I said, giggling. 

“Ah, yes, a giggly drunk, much better than a grumpy one.” Paddy said to my aunt, who just gave a thin-lipped smile and nodded. 

“We should probably get going. It’s late.” She said waving me over to her. 

Even with my mind fuzzy, I knew there was no point in putting up a fight. 

“Actually,” Paddy’s voice made me pause, “Ciara and I were going to go to a club down the road after we put Ant to bed. We wanted to see if you, all three of you, wanted to join us. Just for a couple of hours, nothing crazy.” 

“Not tonight, we’re all pretty tired.” My uncle said. 

My aunt nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s late anyway. But thank you for the invite.” 

Paddy’s eyes fell on me, and he raised an eyebrow in question. The liquor flowing through me gave me the courage to look at my aunt and uncle before turning back to Paddy and Ciara. 

“I would love to.” I said, making Paddy smile. 

“Oh, Yn, come on, you don’t want to impose.” My aunt said, touching my shoulder, but I brushed her off. 

“She isn’t, I promise. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Ciara said, “Go on up and get changed. We’ll swing by and get you after Ant is in bed.” 

Reluctantly, I followed my aunt and uncle up to our room. When we got there, I went straight to my suitcase and dug out a specific dress. I pooped the tags off of it before going into the bathroom to change into it. It was definitely unlike anything I had ever worn before. I showed off all my best assets, and I looked hot. I touched up my makeup before walking out to change my shoes. 

“What on earth are you wearing?” My uncle asked from where he sat in his bed. 

“A dress.” I said bluntly, grabbing my shoes. 

“You’re not wearing that out. You look like a hooker.” He said but Louise put a hand on his arm. 

“Look, you can’t even insult your niece without her telling you what to do.” I said as I put on my shoes. 

“Yn, maybe you should stay in tonight. Meet some of the people your age here. I’m sure they’d go to the club with you.” Louise offered. 

“Why wait?” I said, but before they could say anything, there was a knock on the door. 

I opened it, and Paddy was standing there dressed nicer than he was at dinner. It was taking everything in me not to stare. 

“Ready?” He asked. 

“Yup!” I smiled. 

“Don’t worry, Ben, she’ll be returned in one piece!” He called into the room after I stepped out. He pulled the door shut, and we began walking down the hall. 

“So… change of plans… Ciara isn’t coming…” He said, watching to gauge my reaction. 

“Oh…” 

“Is that okay with you? I mean, if you’re at all uncomfortable, we don’t have to go.” 

“No, I still want to go. I think I’m losing my buzz, though.” I said with a small laugh. 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He said, offering me his arm. I took it, trying not to blush, “Let’s go.” 

Walking into the club, attached to his arm, just felt so right. It felt powerful. Paddy had an intimating aura about him that when people saw him they stepped out of his way. He walked us straight to the bar and ordered us some drinks. 

Before I knew it he and I were on the dance floor, his hands on my hips as we danced together. Our bodies were pressed against one another. The booze in my system was clouding my judgment. I knew this was wrong. I was grinding on a married man over twice my age. 

They called for the last call at the bar, and I drug Paddy back to it for us to get one more drink in. We both had a thin sheen of sweat covering our bodies as we waited for our drinks. There weren’t many seats so I was sitting while he stood right behind me, chest pressed against my back. 

“You look stunning, by the way.” He said over the music. 

“Thank you. You’re not too bad lookin’ yourself.” I shot back just as our drinks were set down. 

We drank them quickly before stumbling out and making our way back to the hotel. I was a complete stumbling, giggling mess, holding onto him for support so I wouldn’t fall. 

“Wait. I have a horrible idea.” I said. 

Paddy looked over at me, waiting for me to answer. 

“We should go jump in the pool,” I said, giggling. 

“I bet you won’t.” He said, challenging me. 

I wasted no time grabbing his hand and leading him over to the now-closed pool. I quickly took my heels off before walking over to the edge. With one last look over my shoulder at him, I jumped. When I resurfaced, he was laughing his ass off, clapping. 

“Well, come on! Your turn!” I said. 

He quickly slipped his own shoes off and took his watch off, setting them on one of the chairs before jumping in with me. He swam under the water and popped up right in front of me. His hands went to my hips once again as he pulled me flush against him. 

I was looking up at him, eyes fliting from his eyes to his lips and before I could process it he was leaning in. But I stopped him.

“Wait… what about Ciara?” I asked quietly. 

“It’s okay. That’s why she didn’t come tonight. She wanted me to have this tonight, to have you tonight.” 

That was all the convincing it took me to reach up and pull him down to meet my lips. He backed us up until my back hit the wall of the pool. His hands roamed my body, and one of mine was tangled in his hair. Things were heating up until we heard someone clear their throat. 

He slowly pulled away from me, and then we both turned to see one of the hotel workers standing there with their hands clasped in front of them. 

“I am sorry, but the pool is closed.” They said in a thick Italian accent. 

“Oh yes, sir. My apologies, you see, she fell in, and I had to save her… I was just making sure her airways were cleared.” Paddy said. 

The worker was clearly not amused by the jokes. 

 “We’ll get out right now.” Paddy said grabbing my hand as he led us to the stairs. 

We got out and collected our belongings, still laughing to ourselves until we were out of sight of the worker. Then, all hell broke loose as we began laughing fully. 

“He was so not impressed with your bullshit, Paddy.” I said, holding onto his arm with one hand while I carried my shoes in the other. 

“He’s just got a stick so far up his ass he doesn’t know what humor is anymore.” He replied. 

I grabbed him by the open collar of his shirt and pulled him to me and attached my lips to his once again. He aggressively pushed me against the wall, deepening the kiss. Slowly, his lips left mine and began making their way down the side of my neck. I tilted my head to the other side to give him better access to it. He was alternating between soft kisses and small bites. Then he bit down harder than he had been right on that sweet spot on my neck, and a small moan left my lip. He stayed there working on what would be a dark hickey come morning, but I couldn’t care. I would wear it with pride. 

Once he was done, he pulled away to admire his work. Then his lips were on mine again. My mind was wandering off to all the things I wanted him to do to me. His hand found my wrist and grabbed it. Then, he brought my hand down between us and placed it firmly against the growing bulge in his pants. 

“You see what you’re doing to me, baby? I want you so bad.” He said, pulling away and resting his forehead against mine. 

A small whimper left my mouth as he grinded against my hand. 

“Take me. Please, I’m yours, Paddy.” I said, kissing him again. 

He pulled away once again but then began leading me by the hand still on my wrist down the halls to his room. I hesitated as he went to open the door. 

“She’s not here. She’s across the hall with Ant in his room. Remember, she wanted me to have this.” He said, eyes dark with lust and his voice dropping low. 

I nodded at him to continue and he opened the door, leading me inside. He once we were inside he shut and lock the door behind him. I suddenly felt shy and was subconsciously pulling the bottom hem of my dress down in a futile attempt to cover myself up in front of him.

“Oh, baby, don’t hide.” Paddy said, walking over, grabbing gently by the hips and kissing me surprisingly softly compared to earlier. 

“I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never…” I sighed in embarrassment. 

“Oh, you’re a virgin?” He asked, eyebrows knitting together softly. 

I shook my head, “No… not technically…” I said.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything, we just go to bed.” He offered but I shook my head again. 

“I want to, trust I want you. I’ve just never orgasmed before with someone else…only myself.” I finally admitted, clearly nervous. 

“Do you doubt my ability to make you feel good, darling?” He asked, voice dropping low again. 

“No, I just worry somethings wrong with me.” I said truthfully. 

Paddy shook his head this time and began walking backwards, pulling me with by the hands still on my hips. He sat down on the edge of the bed and then guided me to straddle him. 

“We’re not leaving this room until I give you the most earth shattering orgasm I have ever given a woman. Understand?” 

I took in a sharp breath at the sudden commanding tone he took on, but nodded my head. 

“Use your words. I won’t remind you again.” “Yes, sir.” I said, voice already breathy from the way he was making me feel. 

“Good. Now, be a good girl and take this dress off for me. I want to see you, all of you.” He said. 

I stood from his lap and then reached behind me to unzip my dress. Once I had it unzipped I pulled it down off my body exposing my bare brests to him. He moaned at the sight of them but I kept going. Since it was a tighter dresser and was still wet from the pool, I had wiggle a bit to get it off my hips and over my ass, causing my tits to bounce with the movement which only spurred Paddy on. Once it was past my thighs, I was able to drop it and have it fall around my feet. Since I hadn’t worn any panties with the dress I was now standing completely bare in front of him as his eyes roamed over my body. 

“This whole time that’s all you had on? I could’ve been fucking you with my fingers this whole night…” He said, shaking his head. 

I bit my lip at his words. That would’ve been hot. 

“Oh, you like that idea… next time.” He said, making my stomach do a flip. Would there really be a next time? 

“Get over here, I need to see those tits up close.” He said. 

I stepped forward again and straddled his waist once more. His hands wasted no time going to my brests. He toyed with them roughly, rolling my hardening nipples between his rough, calloused hands.

“Fuck, these things looked great in that swimsuit you wore yesterday but nothing, nothing compares to them in the flesh.” He said, before dipping his head down and taking one of them in his mouth. 

His tongue swirled around my nipple before his teeth ever so subtlely grazed it. He didn’t actually bite down but it was enough to earn a moan from me. I was become desperate for some friction and I hadn’t even noticed that I was grinding down on his lap until he removed his mouth from my tit. 

“Ooh, someones eagar.” He said. 

Then, without warning, one his hands dipped between us and he ran his fingers through my folds, feel the wetness that had already began to pool. 

“Oh she’s very eager.” He said as one of his fingers just barley entered me before he removed his hand completely urning a whine from me. 

“Don’t whine, baby, Paddy is going to take good care of you.” He said, using his oter hand to pull me into a quick kiss. 

He then guided up off his lap to sit beside him before he stood up. 

“Fair is fair, darling.” He said as he began to remove his own clothes. 

He began with his shirt, which while he was extremely toned and very attractive physically, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t already seen laying out by the pool. Then he stepped forward towards me with his pelvis slightly forward. I couldn’t help myself from starring at the pitch that was clearly aching to be let out of the confines of his pants. 

“Go ahead, darling, you can do the honors.” He said. 

I slowly reached up and grabbed his belt before undoing it. My eyes met his as I looked up through my lashes and I undid his pants. Then my focus dropped back down as I grabbed the waist band of his boxers and his pants and pulled them gently, finally releasing his hard cock. I couldn’t help myself but stare at it and admire it for a moment. 

“Are you gonna stare at it all night, or do you want me to fuck you with it?” He asked, voice deep. 

I looked up at him once again through my lashes and went to nod my head but remembered his words from earlier. 

“I want you to fuck me with it.” I said making him smirk. 

“Then get up there.” He said, nodding the head board. 

I scooted up on the bed and he crawled over to me. His lips found mine and this time I allowed my hands to explore his body from his toned chest to his hair to his strong arms. Everything about him was intoxicating. It was like ever single on of my senses was completely consumed by him. 

He was using one hand to support his weight above me as his other travled down my body to my core. Once again, he ran his fingers through my folds then slipped one in. However this time he let it go in much further. Then he slipped another one in, working me open and stretching me out to prep me for his cock. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, can already feel how tight you are.” He said, against my lips. 

He kept pumping into with two fingers for awhile until he slipped a third one in which took my breath away. My moan was swallowed by his mouth as he fucked in and out of me with his thick fingers. 

When he finally pulled them out he pulled away from my lips and began cleaning his hand off with his mouth. “Taste like fuck heven, sweetheart.” He said, leanined back down to kiss me, allowing me to taste myself on his lips. 

He finally pulled away, leaving my lips swollen from the kiss.

“You on birth control?” He asked. 

I nodded, “Yeah.” “Good.” 

That was all the warning I got before he was sliding into me. The stretch was borderline painful in the best was possible. And the moan that I let out sounded like it was straight out of a porno. 

“Fuck, baby, you trying to wake up the whole damn hotel?” He teased. 

“I’m sorry.” I said, still out of breath. 

“No, let them hear you. Let them know you’re getting the best fucking you’ll ever have. Let them know you belong to me.” He said. 

My walls squeezed around him at his last words. 

“You like that? You want the world to know I fucked your brains out?” “Y-yes.” I managed to sigh. 

“Good.” 

And with that he began pounding into me at a brutal pace. He had grabbed one of my legs and hooked it over his hip, giving him the angle to hit so deep into me, I was sure my cervix would be bruised the next morning. 

He continued his pace, never letting up for a second, “You’re so fucking tight. Feels so good. No wonder no other man could make you come, they probably came within a minute of being in your perfect pussy.” 

He adjusted his angle ever so slightly and was hammering into that soft spongy spot that had me seeing stars. He must of seen my reaction to this new angle because he began getting cocky. 

“There it, that’s the sweet spot isn’t it? Those other men couldn’t reach if they tried. Your pussy was made for me and me only, sweetheart. You needed Paddy to fuck you. Only I can make you feel this good.” 

I could feel that familiar tension grownign deep in my stomach. It was a feeling I had only ever felt when it was me alone with my vibrator. It was building up faster than it ever had before. 

“Fuck, Paddy, I-” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I was clamping hard around his dick as I came. 

Paddy was muttering curse through gritted teeth as I held him in a vice grip. Then, just as my orgasm was dropping of, he shifted he weight to one hand and brought the other one down to rub tight circles on my clit as he began thrusting into me once again. It was almost overstimmulating as I was rushing towards a second orgasm so quickly. I was reduced to a blubbering mess under him as he did exactly what he set out to do, fuck my brains out. 

I could feel the second orgasm soaring towards me, my hands were gripping the bedsheets in a deathgrip. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence at this point. 

“You close baby?” Paddy asked. 

I managed to nod. 

“Go ahead, come for me one more time.” 

With that, my second orgasm his me like a wreaking ball, completely shattering the world around me. My walls squeezed him even tighter than before if that even possible. This time he fucked me through it chasing his own release before his rhythm faltered and he released thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside of me. He stayed like that releasing every last drop he had before slowly pulling out. 

He flopped beside me with a heavy sigh as I laid there catching my breath. I could feel the mixture of our releases seeping out of me but I honestly couldn’t care less about that. 

“How was that?” He asked. 

“Fucking perfect.” I said, eyes closed in pure bliss. 

I heard him let out a low chuckle before turning onto his side and pulling me to him so I was laying there with my back pressed against him. He held me close as we both enjoyed to stillness that had settled over the room. 

“You’re mine now, don’t forget it.” He whispered darkly in my ear. 

It sent a shiver down my spine in the best way possible. I turned around in his arms to look at him. I leaned in pressed a soft kiss to his lips before whispering back, “I’m yours.” 

taglist: @comicbookslut @dreamygirli3

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

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

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

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

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you." 

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

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

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

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

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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[coff33andb00ks]

world around us

summary: you're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night word count: 1k pairing: lando norris x oscar piastri x driver!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff, slightly suggestive language(?) a.n.: final installation of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLI MY LOVE!!! playlist: completely unhinged songs that fit the vibe

"No no no no no no no! You can't do that! You fuckin' muppet!"

Oscar mirrors your eye roll as Lando protests you placing a house on one of your properties. "She owns it though?" he says tentatively.

Lando scoffs, snatching up the guide and snapping it open. "The rules say–"

"I refuse to follow rules when you rolled twice so you wouldn't go to jail," you say with a huff, snatching the guide from him.

"I had to! One of the dice landed on the floor!"

"Oh but when we play golf I have to play no matter where my ball lands?"

"Yes." Lando gives you a look of disbelief, as though the idea of breaking a golfing rule is akin to murder. "It's not my fault you can't hit a ball straight."

"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."

Lando groans, throwing up his hands. "You're cheating. I hate games night."

Oscar's grin shifts and he begins to chuckle. "We could play Trivial Pursuit?"

"No," Lando whines, picking up the dice to take his turn. "That game makes me feel stupid."

"Uno?" you suggest sweetly.

"No, we'll finish this. Capitalism is good to me, I'll make a comeback." Lando nods to himself as he shakes the dice. "Just shut up so I can focus."

And then, twenty minutes later–

"What d'you mean I owe you double the rent?!"

The rules are checked - well this is fucking bullshit - and he counts out all of his money to pay up. Suddenly capitalism sucks and he's clinging to his one property block and his cash like they're his lifeline.

You'll never know how (he probably cheated) but he wins. Monopoly money rains down as he celebrates and you fall back with laughter when Oscar flips the board in disgust.

You love games night. The silly playlist Lando put together plays, Disney movies play, muted, on the tv, and you've got them.

Lando and Oscar. Your biggest rivals on the track and your closest friends off. You're celebrating Oscar's first win this week now that summer break is here, enjoying the lazy days before you each take off in different directions to visit family and recuperate from an exhausting first half of the season.

"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess. Lando's singing along to the latest country song he's obsessed with - Is it your heart or mine? Is it whiskey or wine? Is it somethin' in the night Makin' us wanna cross that line? - and he follows you into the kitchen to get more drinks.

"You sure you don't want to come along with me?" he asks, reaching around you to get a beer from the fridge.

"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You hum thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.

"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.

"Let me rephrase. Best women friends."

He's holding you close, swaying a little to the song playing - you think Oscar's the one who added ABBA, or maybe it was you - and you smile a little as you sway with him. He hums songs without realizing it and it's one of his more endearing habits.

"But I'll miss you," he murmurs, tucking his chin on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—

"Not getting sappy on me are you?" Lando teases.

"You started it," you mutter. Turning, you wrap your arms around him. "We can live a few weeks without each other."

"I mean… You'll text right? Call?" he asks softly.

"FaceTime too," you promise.

It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.

"Jenga?" Oscar calls from the living room and Lando perks up instantly, nearly knocking you down in his haste to get back to the only other person he's going to miss during break.

Jenga with your boys is impossible. They're too competitive, know too many things they can say that make the other break and send the blocks flying.

"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.

The games are abandoned, and you're squished on the couch between them, Oscar's lips on your ear, Lando's head on your stomach as the three of you, tipsy and relaxed, begin making plans for the last days of break while a Studio Ghibli movie plays. It's not said by either of you, but you already know that the three of you will find each other long before the break is over.

The world is easier to bear when it's the three of you together. It's still new, still tentative, still scary as hell, but it feels oh so right.

[giuseppe-yuki]

oh, deer!

george russell x deer shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2k

warnings: asshole reporters, cursing, suggestive material

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: the ability to shift into a deer gets you out of some complicated situations

picture credits from pinterest :)

“wake up love, we are here!” george whispers, softly shaking you. 

you open your eyes slowly, and find yourself in the familiar inside of george’s sleek silver mercedes amg c 63 s. next to you, george has already turned his attention to searching in the middle console compartment for his badge, forehead wrinkled in irritation.

blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you grab your chanel clutch and feel inside for the familiar rectangle shape of you and george’s badge. even if your boyfriend was so skilled in driving that he could become one of the world’s top drivers, he definitely still had to work on his organization skills and not leave things lying around. 

you take out the badges from your bag and hand them over to george, sending him a small smile when you see the relief on his face.

“good lord, i don’t know what i would’ve done without you,” he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “i nearly had to call toto again to print me a new badge! at this rate, they should probably put a badge printer outside the gate for me when you’re not here,” he joked. 

you laugh aloud. it wasn’t often that you attended george’s races. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to- it was that your job as a lead conservation biologist in one of canada’s biggest national parks, wood buffalo, was really demanding and took up much of your time. this time though, your boss allowed you to take a few days off in order to watch your boyfriend at the canadian grand prix.

“ready to go?” george asks, putting on his team kit jacket. 

you nod, and like the gentleman he is, george hops out of his side of the car and rushes to open the door for you. 

“why thank you, good sir,” you say in a fake posh accent, taking his hand and climbing out of the car. 

the weather in montreal was slightly drizzly, but nothing you weren’t used to working in wood buffalo. you brush a few fat raindrops off of your coat as you walk towards the gated entrance of the paddock, wet gravel crunching under your feet. george reaches for your hand, entwining it with his. he suddenly turns to you. “i just want to thank you again for coming to the grand prix with me,” he says seriously. “i know you’ve been exhausted managing everything thats going on in wood buffalo and i’m so glad you’re spending your off days with me!” 

“aww, georgie!” you say grinning, “no need to thank me! i would willingly spend my break wherever in the world as long as you’re there.” 

by the time you arrived in the garage, the media had been notified of your presence. it wasn’t everyday that george russell’s shy elusive girlfriend showed up in the paddock. why haven’t you shown up at any other of george’s races? did you secretly hate him? were you hooking up with other guys while george was racing in japan? they didn’t even bother researching your background as a conservation biologist before throwing the wildest accusations at you. 

the second george left your side in the garage in order to hop in the car to start fp1, you started noticing media reporters and cameraman sneak into the mercedes motorhome in order to get the “scoop” about your attendance record at george’s races. when you looked at the live feed on the tv screens, you could see your own face staring back at you with a little frown. 

“hey, i’m a reporter for motorsport.com!” an enthusiastic woman exclaims next to you, causing you to jump a bit. “can i–”

before she could finish her sentence, a white samoyed barrels straight in the small gap between you and the pushy reporter. the dog barks at the woman, circles you a few times, and sits in front of your heeled feet, as if guarding you from the other newscasters. 

you whisper a small ‘thank you’ to the samoyed, giving a few pets on its thick white coat. you were pretty sure this was lewis hamilton’s dog, as you always saw it trailing around him in the media pen and around the paddock whenever you rewatched the f1 recaps and interviews when you were stuck in wood buffalo. the dog turns around, winks at you, and pads off towards lewis’ part of the garage. 

what the- you think. i had to be imagining that, because no way a dog just winked at me.

thankfully, the rest of the reporters keep their distance the rest of fp1, and you watch george as he gets a respectable result. you keep your distance as the engineers and strategists fix and put away parts of george’s car when he pulls back in the garage. george himself, sweaty from the multiple laps, pulls off his helmet and ear piece before approaching you. 

“how’d i do?” he says, grinning at you. his eyelashes seem extra long and his lips seem extra kissable right about now. before you can react, lewis shouts from across the garage.

“george, toto wants us in the meeting room in five. there’s an emergency meeting about tire management that he wants us to go over before fp2.” turning to you, lewis looks apologetically. “i’m sorry love, i know you probably wanted to spend some time with george before fp2, but toto was insistent on the meeting. you are welcome to wait in the driver rooms or walk around the paddock in the meantime!” 

you nod understandingly at lewis as george steps forward and wraps you in hug. he places a kiss at the top of your head, and whispers in your ear, “i’ll try and get out as soon as i can.” 

without george, lewis, and lewis’ samoyed, the reporters started to creep up to you again. your tired physical and mental state from the flight from wood buffalo along with the stress from having to talk to the journalists did nothing but piss you off even more. it got to a point where they were chasing you down, with their mics and cameras in hand. you spotted other drivers, but you were too scared to ask them for help, because you barely knew them from the small amount of time that you spent at any of the races.

you had managed to squeeze yourself between two garages at the edge of the property, haas and mercedes, to hide from the reporters, when you finally decided to use your last resort. 

you hurriedly morphed into your deer form right as the reporters found your hiding nook in between the garages. 

“huh?” a man dressed in a tropical button up says, eyeing you suspiciously. “i swear to god she ran in here!” 

a reporter from a different source shrugs. “that’s so weird. i guess we were chasing the poor girl down though. maybe i’ll come back a little later to do a double interview with her and george after fp2.”

the first man nods in agreement. “i guess so. we could possibly take a few shots of this random deer here though. it’ll be good for the nature and wildlife panel we can make for the paddock.” 

you flee from the scene the moment they are gone, and wander around the paddock, gaining attention from many fans. they stop to take a few pictures with you, not that you minded, because at least they were nicer than the reporters. fifteen minutes later, you find yourself by a patch of grass by the track. you spot a few wild rabbits hidden amidst the green blades of grass and approach them slowly. keeping mental notes about the characteristics, you continue to observe their movements. you giggle internally when they glance at you and tilt their heads in a questioning look. your shapeshifting abilities definitely had its perks, especially when it came time to analyze the wildlife. your boss had always wondered how you were able to make such accurate notes about the behaviors of other species. 

unbeknownst to you, f1tv had captured a live feed of the “cool deer by turn 10.” 

“what a magnificent creature!” david croft remarks. “it’s just wonderful seeing the wildlife around canada.”

partly through toto’s rant about how the unpredictable rain is fucking up their entire tire management plan, george has already zoned out. the word “wildlife” booming from the outside speakers is what captures george’s attention as he idly spins a pen around his fingers. perking up, he looks outside the window of the mercedes motorhome. sure enough, he sees you, his girlfriend, plastered on the gigantic screen that usually showcased the live feeds of the drivers during the race. his eyes widen the size of saucers. he could hear crofty comment on how the deer was probably seeking out the wild bunnies in order to make friends. but, from his pov, he could see you still and unmoving, probably analyzing the rabbits and taking mental notes. 

he quickly excuses himself, ignoring the questionable glances from the rest of the engineers and lewis, and rushes out the door towards the track. 

when he nears your area, he lets out clicking sounds with his tongue- three short and two long- a secret code you both had devised when you first started dating. 

you immediately lift your head and come prancing towards him, letting at a little bleat when you see the wide grin splitting his face. 

the meeting is all but forgotten when you both find yourself in george’s drivers room. you are sitting on george’s lap, lips a little bruised and hair messy after sharing a few heated kisses. 

“care to tell me why you were literally on track during my meeting?” he asks teasingly. “lewis did say you should explore the paddock, but not the grass two inches away from the track!”

you roll your eyes, and explain what went down after he left with lewis. his brow furrows more and more as you continue to describe how some reporters chased you down. 

his mood shifts quickly to furious. “i am taking this to the GPDA. this is unacceptable behavior towards anyone, much less my own girlfriend!” 

you place a hand on his chest, calming him down. “it’s okay, georgie. i understand they were just trying to do their job and get content- it’s just that they were a bit harsh, that’s all.” 

he nods, but doesn’t stop looking concerned for you. “you must still be so stressed and tired, love. i can give you a shoulder massage, how about that?” 

“a shoulder massage?” you ask, incredulously, “erm… sure.” you climb out of his lap and sit on the floor, while he places his hands onto your shoulders.

he rolls his thumbs into the sore muscles around your back, loosening them out. continuing up, kneading the tense tendons in the lower part of your neck.

you sigh in contentment, “mmm, that’s so good georgie!” when he brushes past a particularly achy part of your shoulder, you let out a groan. “a little harder,” you murmur, eyes closed in enjoyment.

at the worst time possible, you hear a loud knock on the door of george’s driver room trailer. 

“george, open up the goddamn door!” says someone in a german accent outside. “i literally hear your girlfriend’s voice in there! you better not better not be fucking when you should be in the meeting that you left half an hour ago!”

your eyes widen in surprise. “what the hell, george??? you left the meeting to come see me? why the hell did you do that?” you whisper-yell at him. 

before he can answer, the door slams open. 

toto peers in, only to see slightly sweaty george with messy hair, and a stunned-looking deer in front of him. 

“ermm… what is going on here?” he says, mouth in a frown and arms crossed. “why is the deer from turn 10 in your drivers room, george? are you a disney princess attracting all the wildlife or what?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary

@mbappebby @madkohi @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks

[jwonsite]

“happy birthday, pretty boy” - sim jaeyun

part 2 of e(nnn)- (a nnn series)

pairing: switch!jake x switch!fem!reader

warnings: oral (f&m receiving), making out, 69 position, lingerie mentioned, idk what else to put help me

synopsis: while your boyfriend is trying his hardest to win a bet made by his best friends to not have sex for a month, you couldn’t help but give him a little show on his birthday

masterlist!

"jake i'm telling you right now there's no way you're winning that ps5"

"you really have that little faith in me?!"

"have you met yourself? last week you begged me to let you eat me out because you were 'pussy deprived' while i was on my period. it had been 3 days."

your boyfriend sighed in defeat, knowing you were right. but was it really his fault? you were just so perfect, he could never get enough of you!

"well i'm going to prove you wrong, just watch. on december 1st when i'm collecting my ps5 from sunghoon i'll remind you of this very moment," jake said, crossing his arms as he dramatically turned away from you

you laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. you knew your boyfriend, and you knew there was absolutely no way that he was lasting this entire month, especially with his birthday being a few weeks away. he can tell himself whatever he wants, but you both know in the end, he's not getting that ps5.

______________________________________________________________

it had been two weeks and he was honestly doing way better than anybody expected. everyday the boys waited for a text message saying he lost, some even placing further bets on how many hours days he could last before he lost

"can you believe them?! i was on the phone with hoon earlier and i heard heeseung give jungwon money after saying i lasted longer than he thought! i can't believe theyre making bets on me, like, am i really that horny?" he complained to you as you were eating dinner together

"in their defense, you are a pretty big man whore. i mean, have you seen the videos of yourself from the concerts? licking your lips, showing your abs, grinding the air, they definitely aren't wrong for thinking that. plus i am 100 percent sure they have heard us have sex in the dorms multiple times", you said back to him. everybody knows that jake practically lives off of sex. not in a weird way, but you just energize him so much. with so much stress of being an idol, getting to come home and fuck his frustrations out, or eat you out for hours until you're overstimulated, it's an instant destresser

"well, yeah but, they could at least have a little more confidence in me", he said with a pout, continuing to eat the food you had made for him earlier

"okay you big baby", you said with a laugh, getting up to take your empty plate to the sink to wash

your boyfriend followed soon behind with his empty plate, slightly pushing you out of the way and taking the sponge out of your hand to wash the dishes for you. you smiled at him fondly as you moved to sit on the counter directly next to the sink. you sat and admired your boyfriend, looking so domestic as he washed the dishes in your apartment. you looked forward to the day that he could finally move in with you full-time, after the pressures of being an idol aren't so heavy

"you're staring, pretty girl", he said with a smirk, not moving his attention from the plates in front of him

"yeah cause you're just so handsome", you said not being able to hold back your smile

he giggled a bit at your statement before refocusing on the task in front of him

"so!" you said, clapping your hands together, "what are we doing tomorrow, birthday boy?"

"i didn't really have any plans in mind, probably hang with the boys for a bit, get dinner or whatever then come back and chill here with you. nothing too crazy", he said nonchalantly, turning of the sink and drying his hands as he finished washing everything

"are you serious? its your 21st birthday jakey, you have to do something!" you said, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood between your legs. because you were sitting on the counter you were eye level with him. he put his hands on your thighs as he looked at you with a smile

"yeah yeah i know but... i dont know. not really in the going out mood, id rather just chill and spend it here with you", he said moving his face close to yours, noses rubbing together. you hummed as you closed the gap between you both, lips molding together as your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck. he pulled away, rubbing your noses together once more before standing back to look at you

"you sure you don't wanna go out somewhere tomorrow? nothing at all you can think of?" you asked once more, intertwining your hands together

"nothing, i promise. we can go out to eat with the boys and then come back and have a movie night or something. just wanna be with you", he said with a smile. you flushed at his words. even after dating for so long he never failed to make you flustered

"okay, now come on pretty boy let's go to bed, i'm tired", you said, wrapping your arms and legs around your boyfriend to signal him to carry you to your bedroom. he laughed and shook his head before putting his hands under your thighs and picking you up, walking to your room

______________________________________________________________

the next day was filled with multiple surprises for your boyfriend, waking him up to breakfast in bed, giving him a beautiful white gold bracelet you had found for him a few weeks ago, the boys showing up early to your house to give him the gifts they had bought him before all going out to dinner together that night.

you all had a great time, talking and laughing loudly for hours, probably annoying the rest of the patrons in the restaurant. your boyfriend thanked his friends, as well as you for making his birthday such a fun day, but what he didn't know was that you had one more surprise for him.

you had been planning this for a while, being very glad he opted to staying in for his birthday as it helped your plan go smoother. you knew he had that bet with his friends but, we all knew he was gonna lose at one point or another, so why not have it be on his birthday? he wasn't even a big gamer anyways, it wasn't like he would be super disappointed if he didnt get the gaming console.

you were gonna make some excuse to get him back to your place, changing into your brand new black lingerie set you got specifically for this occasion. you knew he loved when you wore black, since it was one of his favorite colors. you hoped the lingerie set would get him to break, giving up on his bet with his friends

after dinner was paid for (thank you jay🙏🏼), your boyfriend bid goodbye to his friends, walking back to your car with you

you drove home in a comfortable silence, his hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, music lowly playing in the background. you were getting excited for your plans, feeling the heat in your core grow as you slightly shifted in your seat

"you okay babe?" jake asked, looking at you slightly

"yeah, i'm fine" you said with a smile, grabbing his hand off your thigh to intertwine it with yours, as the close proximity to your core was getting you more worked up than you already were

you thought you were being slick, but your boyfriend knew about this whole ordeal. he had accidentally seen the lingerie in your dresser, and when he didnt recognize it he figured you had bought it for this reason. and after seeing the way you tried to hide yourself getting worked up during dinner, snd in the car next to him just now, confirmed his suspicions. he smiled to himself before focusing back on the road, feeling your stare on the side of his face. usually he would tease you, but right now he wanted nothing more than to get you home and fuck you til you can't walk

the ride back to your apartment felt longer than usual, your arousal continuing to pool in your panties the more you thought about the night to come. you finally arrived, and jake got out the car quickly to open the door for you, helping you out of the car. he grabbed your hand as he led you inside. he unlocked the door to your apartment, letting you go in first, following behind closely

before you knew it, you were pushed up against your front door, your boyfriends lips clashing with yours passionately as his hands roamed over your body

your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to be the one to initiate the intimacy. you soon melted into your boyfriends arms, wrapping your arms around his neck to tangle in his hair as your tongues clashed in each others mouths. he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss as he walked to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed, leaning back to take of his shirt, throwing it across the room before coming back down to kiss you again

"fuck, jakey, what about your bet?" you moaned out as he moved his lips down your neck and chest

"first of all, fuck the bet. second of all, you think i didn't know all about your little plan for tonight? that pretty little lingerie set that you bought just for me. lucky for you, i'm gonna let you save that for another day, right now i just wanna feel you around me" he said as he continued to leave open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, putting his hands up your shirt to massage your breasts over your bra

you moaned as you moved your hands to take off your shirt, sitting up for a second to lift it over your head, discarding it somewhere in your room

jake moved further down your chest now that he had more access, taking one of his hands to unbuckle your bra skillfully, like he had done it a billion times

after your bra was off, he moved his mouth down to suck your nipples, licking and kissing then as he used one of his hands to roll your other nipple between his fingertips. your hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging on it slightly, making him moan into your breasts, sending vibrations all through your body

"baby please, i need you so bad" you moaned out, becoming impatient

"so needy, my baby. can't believe i was gonna make you wait a whole month without my dick" he said, kissing down your body as he made his way to where you were craving him most

"wait", you said, putting your hand on his head to stop his motions. you put your hand under his chin to pull him back up to your face, before pushing him over so he was under you

he gasped at the sudden movement before smirking at you, immediately putting his hands behind his head

"wanna take care of my pretty boy" you said as you moved down to his dick, kissing and lick his defined abs on the way down. you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down off his legs before cupping his clothed dick in your hands

he moaned out at the feeling as you palmed him through the thin fabric of his underwear, cursing lowly under his breath

"please don't tease princess, it's been way too long i need to feel your mouth around me already" he said with a whine

"whatever my birthday boy wants" you said, slipping your fingers into the sides of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs. his dick sprung up from the fabric, stand so tall and prettily. you swear his dick was the prettiest one in the world, the veins going up the side were just so perfect, he wasn't bigger than average, but he was so thick, and his tip was so red and pretty, already leaking precum

he groaned as he was finally released from the constraints of any fabrics, moving his hands down to tangle in your hair

you took his dick in your hands as you slowly licked all the way from the base to the tip, your boyfriend moaning out loudly as you did so. you began to suck his tip gently, licking his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue

"fuck, baby, you said anything i want right? i want you to sit on my face please. you take my dick so well in your mouth but i want to taste you too. please baby", he whined out as you continued to suck only the tip. you smiled up at him before standing up to remove your pants and underwear

"of course pretty boy, it's your night" you said as you climbed onto the bed seductively, moving your legs over your boyfriends head so you were hovering above his mouth. you could feel his warm breath on your pussy, and his nose rubbing against your clit. you moaned slightly as you leaned forward to take his dick into your moth again

you began sucking on it harshly, before feeling jake pull your hips down harshly, suffocating himself with your pussy. he was licking and sucking on your clit so well, you could barely concentrate on what you were doing. you continued to bob your head up and down over his cock as he keep eating you out, your moans being muffled by his dick. the vibrations of your moans over his dick made him approach his orgasm faster than usual, already feeling his stomach tighten and his dick twitching in your mouth. he didn't want to cum before you, so he started to speed up his actions, hands tightly gripping your thighs, probably leaving a mark tomorrow

he heard your moans get higher in pitch, and your hips began to grind onto his face slightly, signaling you were close. you continued moving up and down on his dick, hands massaging his balls as you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. your orgasm hit you hard, hips bucking onto your boyfriends face as you tried to continue sucking on his dick, becoming too distracted on by your own orgasm hitting you. jake didn't stop his ministrations, riding you through your orgasm, making sure to lick up every last drop of your juices. your hand continued to move up and down his dick, and you moved your head back down to his dick so he could come too. not long after he was cumming in your mouth, moaning into your pussy sending vibrations and overstimulating you

you gathered all his cum into your mouth, sitting up and turning around so he could see your face as you swallowed it. that was one of his favorite parts when you sucked his dick, getting to see you swallow his load

his hands moved to your waist as you sat over his abs, feeling your juices spread over his stomach. you leaned down to kiss him, and he practically got hard again tasting himself on your lips. you smiled into the kiss as you pulled away, biting his lip before you pulled away and let go

"happy birthday, pretty boy"

you rolled off his stomach to lay next to him, turning your head to look at him with a smile. he looked back at you, returning the smile fondly. he rolled to the side to cuddle into you, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him before he could

"you thought we were done baby? oh no, were just getting started"

a/n: GUYS FINALLY I KNOW ITS OUT AHHHHH. i wrote this all in one sitting cuz i was determined to finally get it out for you guys after weeks of not being able to😭 i hope you guys enjoy, and sorry it’s a little short🥲🥲🥲

taglist (closed!): @yannew @hanienie @beomgyusonlywife @akirakinimi @multifandomgurllll @boutyouwonu @kissmunalodz @5xiang @ibsysbsfsunsbs @guqsnfics @hellaboredd @wvnkoi @kpopslover @heerinnie @climbingmandevillas @rikisly @simeonswhore @lilriswife4life @daegutowns @harrietbarnesblog @wonniie3 @ariadores @yizhoutv @lilizinho @firstclassjaylee @olivehues @ikeusol @bunhoons @electrobutterfly @choijxn @baekxo07 @youronevia @eneiyri @soobery @heeseungshim @furious-eagle @nyxluvethn @jongseongslvr @wonniewonwon @sunsunl0ver @mixtape-racha @jakeslvt @lomlj4ke @neocockthotology @babyy-bambii @fluerz @adriana7863 @trashx678 @yelleloww @brownsugarbaybee @kaislinging-slasher01 @jena4realz @deobitifull @heartzhailey @stuckonclouds @sunoosgf001 @jwnghyuns @auraxyzz @kaisplushies @dazzlingligth @hoseokteardrop

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