#i've realized that i didn't need to request the morning off from work

[innocencel0st]

Okay. It's after midnight and I am actually pretty sleepy. Plus not only do I have to get up early to take Draven to school, he has an event in the morning that I told him I'd be there for. But I'm off tomorrow, so I'll be here most of the day.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Hey have a request I’d love to see a fic like this:

Dad!Eddie x mom!reader their reaction when their 18 year old daughter comes home with her first real boyfriend turns out it’s a metalhead like Eddie :)

I hope you can do something like this <3

This is so cute, and I love the idea. I just picture Eddie being a complete girl dad. Hope you enjoy. 🩷

Requests are open for the time being.

Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!reader

Warning: none, just some fluff.

A/n: This is fluff, but I still do not want minors interacting with my work. Not proofread

"He's coming over!" Your daughter Julie raced down the stairs yelling out to you.

Eddie looked up from his phone with his reading glasses hanging off his nose. "Who's coming over? He?"

You saw him looking towards you and then back at your daughter. She just turned eighteen a few months ago. She was born on July tenth. Which was also the birthday of Ronnie James Dio. Something Eddie never stopped bragging about saying it's "the most metalest thing ever."

He fell in love all over again the moment she was born. She was glued to his hip. Anywhere he went, she went. If he was eating, so was she. If Eddie got a tattoo, then he was buying her one out of the bubble gum machine for her to match.

He couldn't stand watching her grow up. Seeing her go from this tiny little thing to a young woman was difficult on you both. She had his eyes and dimples along with his sarcasm.

"Oh, uhh, her boyfriend Eddie, remember he's coming for dinner." You reminded him while trying to keep things calm.

"Boyfriend?" He repeated.

Julie rolled her eyes. " Yeah dad boyfriend you know the guy I've been telling you and mom about for like the last two months."

Eddie didn't say a word back. He knew he couldn't stop her from dating. He actually didn't hate the idea of her dating. He hated the idea of some guy hurting her.

That's all it really came down to. He's tried so hard to shield her from all the bad in the world. But you've helped him realize that's impossible, and he needs to just let her learn.

Once your daughter left for the day, you sat with your husband. You wanted to take his mind off of things and just help him relax. He already possibly has high blood pressure. You didn't want to make it worse.

"You wanna go out back and work on your tomatoes? " You got up and started massaging his shoulders.

He smiled and took off his glasses. "I actually gotta tune up my bike, but maybe tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Are you okay?" You leaned down by his ear.

"I'm fine-- I'll be fine." He reassured you. You turned your head and gave him a little kiss to his cheek.

He was still as handsome as the first time you saw him. His eyes have the prettiest crinkles from all of the years of laughing. His smile lines are visible under his stubble. His hair is starting to finally grey in certain parts. You've been together since you were practically kids.

You and him fell in love the millisecond you laid eyes on each other. Your parents hated him at first. They tried so hard to keep you two apart, but you weren't having it. Nothing was going to keep Eddie away from you.

He tried so hard to win your parents over, mainly your dad. Since your mom softened up when she got to know him better. Your dad was a different story. Your dad didn't like his look.

The tattoos, hair, and music he was strictly against. Eddie was used to being treated like that. He was used to people judging him before they really knew him. That doesn't mean he still didn't try to get your father's approval because he did. All the time, with little to no luck.

You noticed Eddie had been in his garage all day. He said he had to give his bike a quick tune-up, but that usually only takes a few hours. He's been out there since this morning. You look at the clock, and it's now going on 4 pm. Julie has been home now for just an hour or so. She wanted to get ready in time to introduce you to her boyfriend.

You know he's nervous about meeting Julie's boyfriend. He doesn't want to seem like some weird overbearing parent. This is her first serious relationship, it seems like. Eddie wants to be protective, but he doesn't want to scare the guy off. He doesn't want your daughter to hate him.

A loud knocking knocking at the front door tells you he's here. Before you could even leave the kitchen to answer it, Eddie somehow is already there.

He swings open the door and is met with a guy not much taller than him. He has short dark hair with a denim vest similar to his old one. Various pins and patches littered all over it. He was wearing an old Slayer shirt underneath with black boots.

Eddie eyed him curiously. "Whooo are you?"

"Oh, I'm um, Noah...Julie's boyfriend." He held out to his to shake Eddie's. His other hand held some flowers in it.

Foot steps come running up next to them both, and it took Eddie a moment to process who they belonged to.

"Dad, this is Noah." Julie took his hand and brought him inside.

"Right-nice to meet you." He finally shook his hand back as he walked past him.

Eddie was stunned. The second he saw him, he got instant flashbacks of when he was younger going to meet your parents for the first time. He wanted to hate the guy. He wants to be this tough, hard ass to him. But now he can't bring himself to do any of that.

"Eddie, come help me with dinner." You whispered.

"Yeah - Yeah, okay, I'm coming." He shook his head and smiled to himself.

"He bought me flowers." You pointed at the vase holding the bouquet.

"So i buy you flowers all the time." Eddie shrugged, still trying to keep up the facade that he doesn't like the guy.

He grabbed a knife and helped cut up some onions. He looked out the window in front of him and watched your daughter and her boyfriend outside. You stopped what you were doing to focus on them, too. You saw how Eddie's eyes had softened when Noah put a little buttercup flower behind her ear.

You and him instantly had memories flooding in from your earlier years as a couple. Where Eddie would find a pretty flower and put it behind your ear. Or how he would lay with you for hours looking up at the stars. You could see he was getting a little emotional about it. More memories of picnics together in the back of his van.

"You gonna cut those onions or keep zoning out?" You nudged him.

"Sorry, I'm ju- I'm just thinking." He spoke quietly.

You went over to him and rubbed his back. "About?"

"I'm supposed to be a dick head to him, but I can't bring myself to be that way" Eddie kept looking out the window, watching Noah with your daughter.

"Who said you had to be that way?" You looked out to where he was.

He shook his head. "No one... I'm just being over dramatic like usual."

After dinner was over. Noah and Julie were sitting on the couch together while Eddie was sitting in his chair. You were busy getting dessert ready for everyone.

"Hey dad, did I tell you Noah is in a band." Julie giggled.

Eddies face lit up. "No, you didn't. do you play?"

"Uhh, well, I used to drum, but now I sing." Noah informed him. He acted a little shy to even have it brought up so suddenly. He felt put on the spot.

He nods "I used to be in a band too."

"Really?" Noah moved a little closer towards Eddie leaving Julie behind at the other end of the couch.

"Yep, I used to play guitar and sing, actually." Eddie smiled and looked proud to be talking about his former band days again.

"I have some old stuff in my garage where my band "toured" for a bit and my old gear." He pointed behind him.

"Can we check it out?" Noah looked like a kid in a candy store when Eddie mentioned his old gear.

"Follow me," He grunted while getting out of his chair. His knees popped as he stood up. Years of hard work finally taking its toll on his body.

Julie just sat there watching her boyfriend and her dad, leaving her all alone in the living room. You were busy in the kitchen cutting cake and putting the pieces onto plates.

"Guys, dessert is ready!" You jogged to the living room to find it empty except for your daughter.

She rolled her eyes "they're in the garage."

You couldn't help but chuckle.

All day, you had anticipated this first meeting to be a disaster. Now you have your husband and your daughters boyfriend playing guitar together. You know Eddie didn't have a mean bone in his body. Even at his cruelest, he was still considered nice to most.

"Think dad likes him?" Julie crossed her arms, looking annoyed. She was being sarcastic. You could tell by her tone.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying hard not to laugh. "He hates him, I'm sure."

You could hear them both screeching from out back. Heavy metal loudly playing, and Eddie's old guitar plugged in. You and your daughter sat eating dessert, trying to drown out all the music. The night ended with Noah being invited back over next weekend. While Eddie was upstairs putting ice on his now sore neck. He forgot his age for a few hours and became that young twenty something man again.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh

Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)

Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG

Word count: 3.7 k

Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.

A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕

"I'm tired of using those things."

Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 

You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.

You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.

And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 

Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?

"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.

"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.

You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean…?"

The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.

"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"

Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.

"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 

"They are." 

The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 

And Simon never said he didn't want children.

It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 

He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.

Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…

It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 

And it did. It more than just did.

He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.

Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.

You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 

It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.

But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.

He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 

That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 

Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 

But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.

Until this night…

This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 

You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.

And this time, he won't even let you play.

"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 

As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 

He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 

Serves the damn thing right…

You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.

You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.

The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.

His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.

And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.

You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.

The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.

"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.

"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.

You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 

He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 

You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 

"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 

"Hell yeah."

The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 

You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.

A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.

His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.

And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 

His little helper, indeed…

"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"

His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.

He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…

"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."

He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.

"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."

Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.

"I'll manage," you whisper.

"I know you will."

The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.

He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.

"Wait–"

"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.

"The–the boys?"

He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 

Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?

"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."

This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.

"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.

"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."

The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 

"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"

He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.

"Right back at ya, darling."

"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.

"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 

"Love… fuckin' hell."

He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 

But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.

"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."

Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 

The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.

A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.

"Luv. You trust me?"

You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 

"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.

Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.

"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"

"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."

He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.

Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 

You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.

"Faster, Simon, please…" 

"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "

And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 

"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.

"Yes–give it to me, please–"

Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…

You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 

Simon–fuck…

There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 

Fuck–!

…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.

"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 

He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.

And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 

It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.

If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.

He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.

"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.

"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."

He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.

"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."

His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.

"Got a fair point there, love."

Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.

"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.

"That was the best."

He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.

"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."

"You think that did it..?"

He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.

"No half-assing with my sweetheart."

One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.

"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.

"I wouldn't say no to that."

You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.

And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."

Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.

And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"

After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...

There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.

"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.

"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.

"What if ice cream won't help?"

"I'll bring you chocolate."

You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 

"You're really not afraid…?"

"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."

"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."

"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.

"Simon... What made you change your mind?"

He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.

"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."

You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.

"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.

"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.

"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.

"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."

He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 

There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.

[jareaul0ver]

Thinking about Nika and reader getting into a big fight bc reader feels like Nika has been neglecting her and the relationship due to basketball and then Nika trying to get her back ….

wc: 2k warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!!, nika being a bad, neglectful gf at first, basically all stated in the request pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

Nika had always treated basketball like it was the only thing in her life that mattered. For the most part that was true. Sure, she had her family, but they were back in Croatia and there was only so much she could do with that situation.

Then you came into her life, flipping her world upside down. Sometimes basketball was pushed to the back of her mind when she was with you. She valued the way you could help her wind down after a tough practice, or if they lost a game you knew exactly how to make her forget about it.

But that was all in college. After she got drafted, things started to change. She wasn't getting the same playing time she used to, which greatly affected her mood.

You reassured her after each game that it was just because it was so early in the season, and that you were sure she'd get playing time as everything progressed.

She didn't listen, though. She was out for most hours of the day. At team practices, weight training, and dragging into her own personal time with extra workouts and practice drills.

Her mindset was that if her playing was perfect, she'd get time. But it still didn't help.

At this point, you barely saw her. Even with living in the same apartment, she'd pretty much only be there in the very early morning or very late night, mostly while you were asleep.

Not only was her being in the W affecting her, it was affect you and your relationship with her. She was pulling away from you, whether she realized it or not, and it was hurting you more than she knew.

It was a late night for you. You were working on the final touches of a paper for one of your summer grad school classes, sitting on yours and Nika's shared bed which had felt incredibly empty for the past few months.

She walked through the door, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw you still awake. "What're you doing up?" She said quietly before going over to grab clothes to change into from the dresser.

"Finishing up the paper I've been working on for class," you mumbled. You had mentioned it to her before, as she had caught you working on it in the late nights and early mornings, but it seemed to have slipped her mind.

"Oh," was all she managed before changing into clothes to sleep in.

You sighed and looked up at her. "I've mentioned it to you before, you've seen me working on it before," you said, frustration laced in your tone.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at you. "You don't need to get pissy with me, I just forgot."

"You've been forgetting a lot of things lately, Nika," you let out a shaky breath, pushing your laptop off of your lap and sliding out of bed. "Christ, you almost forgot our anniversary a few weeks ago."

"Sorry I've been busy, I've had a lot on my mind," she said firmly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Nika, all you've been doing is basketball ten times over. Extra training, practice, whatever you can find. You're never home. You're never with me anymore."

She froze for a second before opening her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with the wave of a hand. "Don't even start," you started to raise your voice. "I- no, our relationship has been on the backburner ever since you got drafted! I get it, babe, it's important to you, and it takes a lot of time and effort but-"

Your voice cracked and tears welled in your eyes. "You've been gone, Nika. For months, I've felt like I've been on my own. Sometimes it just feels like I'm in a one sided relationship, like you don't want me anymore."

Nika's face fell at your words, and she felt a pit forming in her stomach. She stepped towards you, bringing her hands up to cup your face, wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. "I- I'm sorry, bebo, I don't want you to feel that way, but-"

You scoffed and stepped back. "There's always a but, isn't there," you said flatly. With a shake of your head you turned towards the bedroom door. "I'm sleeping on the couch. Less room for it to feel so empty," you spat with a shaky voice before leaving the room.

The door shut and Nika looked down at the ground, her hands now on her hips as she stood there, letting every word you said sink in.

She realized now that she was losing you, that you were slipping away, and it was all her fault. She had been so absorbed by basketball that she forgot about you.

There had never been a day in her life where she felt worse. Not when she couldn't play because of her visa issues, not when she hurt her ankle for the first time, not even when she had to leave her family back in Croatia to play basketball.

No, this was the worst day of her life. Her coming to the realization that she might wake up tomorrow and you aren't in the apartment. All your things could be gone. You could block her number, her socials, erase her from your life completely, and it would be her fault.

Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of this. The idea of you leaving is her worst fear, and she would do damn near anything to make sure it wouldn't happen.

So the next morning she checked the couch, immensely relieved that you were still sleeping somewhat peacefully out there. Although she wasn't with you, she was glad she still had you.

Before she left for practice with the team, she wrote a small note for you and left it in your underwear drawer, where she was sure you would see it.

Eventually you woke up, immediately checking the bedroom to see if Nika was miraculously here. You knew she wouldn't be, but it still hurt to see an empty bed.

You had an interview with a possible employer in a few hours, so you got ready. You walked into the bedroom with only a towel covering your body, and opened your underwear drawer, and look of confusion first on your face when you saw the note.

You picked it up and read over it, "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I'm going to make it up to you. Don't make any plans for tonight, I'll be home after your interview. - Love you."

A sigh fell from your lips, but your face softened. You hoped and prayed that she would stay true to her word, this being a turning point in your flatlining relationship.

But you held back from fully believing it, part of you expecting a disappointing outcome.

You finished getting ready for the interview and left the apartment, your mind immediately cleared from everything going on with Nika the second you got into your car.

Nika sat on the couch as she anxiously waited for you to get home. She was wearing a black top with a matching black skirt that you had gotten her for her birthday this year. She had a pair of short black heels to match, and her hair and makeup was done.

You walked into the apartment, your back turned towards her at first as you closed the door, but once you turned around your eyes widened a little.

She stood up and took a deep breath, taking a step towards you. "Hey, how was your interview?"

You blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, um, it went well I think," you said softly.

Nika nodded slightly before turning to the direction of the coffee table and picking up a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. She turned back around and took a few more steps towards you, now leaving you guys only a few feet apart.

"Got these for you, as the beginning of an apology gift, I guess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she held them out.

You looked at her hesitantly before taking them. "Beginning?"

She nodded and stepped forward, almost closing the gap between the two of you. You reached over and placed them on the table near the entrance of your apartment, fully giving her your attention.

"God, bebo, I'm so sorry. For everything. For treating you the way I have been, not being there, forgetting important things. I can't even put it into words how sorry I am," she said with a long breath. "And I know sorry isn't gonna fix it, but I'm trying to, okay? I am."

You stared at her, your face softening a bit at her words. "It's gonna take a lot more than a bouquet of flowers to fix everything, Nika," you uttered, your voice soft but serious.

"I know. Of course it is, but that's not all I have planned for tonight, okay? I- I got us a reservation at that one Italian place you like that's not too far from here. The nice one." Her voice was tinged with desperation, longing to have you back with her, to belong to her again.

Nika told you it was in an hour, so you nodded and went to the bedroom to get ready. It didn't take you long, as all you had to do was touch up your makeup and change your outfit.

Once you came out of the bedroom, Nika was practically giving you heart eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen you like this, all dolled up in a pretty little dress, ready for date night.

She walked over to you, hesitantly grabbing your hands. You let her, and looked up into her soft brown eyes. "You look gorgeous, bebo," she whispered.

You couldn't help but blush a little, that feeling of before you and Nika drifted coming back to fill your senses. Her touch on your hands practically set you on fire. It had been so long since you two actually touched, not just in passing, or snuggling in the middle of the night.

But a long, snug grip that sent flutters throughout your chest.

"You do too," you said softly to her, squeezing her hands gently. She smiled a little and started pulling you towards the door, ready to leave for dinner.

You were returning home from dinner with her. It was almost perfect. You talked and laughed and everything felt like it should again. When you walked into the apartment, you gently tugged on Nika's hand. "We really should talk about everything more."

She faced you and nodded. "Yeah, of course, let's go talk," she gently dragged you over to the couch and sat down, waiting for you to do the same.

You sat down after her, barely leaving any space between the two of you. All it took was a deep breath from the both of you before you spoke, your voice soft. "Tonight was... amazing. It's everything I've been wanting for the past few months and more, but it doesn't fix everything."

She gazed at you intently, absorbing every word you said. "I know, and I don't expect everything to be fixed."

You nodded, appreciating her listening to you. "And I forgive you, because it's really hard not to," you said with a small laugh. "But it's gonna take a while for things to go back to normal. And it's gonna take effort."

Nika hummed softly her hands finding yours again as you spoke. "I don't want things to go back to how they were, you barely being home, pushing me away because you're so zoned in on basketball. I want you. I want my Nika back."

She thought she could cry at your words, seeing the hurt evident on your face, hearing it subtly in your tone as you spoke. "I'm back, baby. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm gonna work every day to prove that to you."

You pulled your hands away from hers to bring them up to her face, cupping her cheeks gently against your palms. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you," she said immediately, "so much."

You leaned in slightly, gently pressing your lips to hers, igniting a much needed kiss between the two of you. "I'm not going anywhere ever again, promise," she mumbled against your lips.

wow im back hi sorry for not writing for so long, ive had bad writers block and since its the summer ive been doing a lotta stuff keeping me busy, but hopefully im back for good now <3

[perfctvelvet]

A smut involving Jenna or fem reader as a stripper or only fans star?

Down; Jenna Ortega/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. AU. Stripper!reader, teasing, Jenna gets reader off.

A/N: I had two requests for stripper!reader with jenna so I just combined them :) I think I've only wrote a strip/lapdance scene once and that was years ago so forgive me if this is little awkward!

Muse was nothing short of a poor excuse for a "high-end" private club. The floor was sticky from spilled overpriced drinks and the air was thick and muggy. Behind the branding and high-earning clientele, it was simply a strip club.

The year end company dinner started at Jenna's boss's favorite restaurant, to a bar across the street, and eventually to Muse. One by one her co-workers fell off, citing their tiredness as the reason they need to leave. In reality the crop of people that wanted to be out all night weren't the most ideal people to party with. Jenna said she would leave when her closest co-worker, Eve, decided to leave. However when it was her turn to bow out for the night, Jenna looked amongst the people she would be left with. It was nearly all of the senior-level employees of her department. Why she thought she could be one of the boys for the night, just for a small chance of career advancement, was beyond her. But she stayed. She stayed until she was front and center of a woman in sparkling lingerie that exposed her breast.

"We were surprised a girl like you could hang," one of the more obnoxious colleague nudges her side and winks at her.

Maybe this was some sort of joke on their behalf. The photo of her with her ex-girlfriend had sat on her desk for months until things came crashing down. Jenna wasn't ashamed, but her rule was to never talk about her personal life at work. That photo was the most she's ever said about the inner workings of her life and it was clear people had picked up on it.

Perverts.

Jenna is sure her colleague's wedding bands are shining under the stage lights, but no one seemed to care. It was par for the course; some wealthy, married men found their enjoyment in going to a club and seeing what they don't have.

Jenna found the women on stage to be pretty, beautiful even, but she felt out of place. She felt like everyone's eyes were on her like she had "newbie" written on her forehead. If she was with friends it would be different, possibly, but she was with men she has to turn reports into on Monday morning.

The same obnoxious guy in her office leans over and yells over the music, "you want a lap dance?"

The look on her face must've been a stupid one because he laughs at her.

"Not from me, of course. From one of the girls!"

"No, no. No thank you!"

It was then and there Jenna didn't realize what she got herself into. The men she work with don't like to hear the word "no." And when he got the others in on it, she soon found herself in a private room waiting for a "special visitor." She could've easily made a great escape the moment she entered the room, but was scared she would come face-to-face with the woman who was suppose to entertain her for the night. It made her feel guilty. Besides it might be best for her to occupy this person's time instead of one of her co-workers.

The lights dim in the room and the silhouette of a woman appears behind a curtain. Her outline giveaway that she's braless too, her nipples erect. Soft music played while the woman swayed her hips. She certainly knew what she was doing, moving her body to each sultry beat. Jenna can't deny that it is sexy to watch even if she wasn't use to this setting. Her ex had modeled lingerie for her and even gave her a drunken lap dance before, but this felt much more intense even with the curtain in the way.

She wondered what goes through the woman's head while she's doing this. Is she being a good audience member? She should clap every time the woman pauses? Can she even see her?

Her heart skips when the curtains began to draw back and you're revealed to be the woman behind them. You've seen plenty of women in the clubs (and nervous people in general), but you instantly took a liking to Jenna. She looked all cute just sitting there, clearly feeling our of place. Must've been a dare.

Jenna watches you closely as you begin to move to the music again, but she doesn't dare make eye contact with you. She's sitting so stiffly in her chair, you almost wanted to come down and shake her loose. There was nothing to be nervous about but the first timers were always a bit endearing to you.

You walk down the steps and stop right in front of her, giving her no choice but to look at you in the eyes. Her eyes are so gorgeous and she has a sweet face. It becomes more obvious to you that someone else definitely put her up to this.

"Relax," you whisper, voice lacing with the music.

Her ears perk up at the sound of your voice, as silky as the lingerie on your skin. It could be the loneliness from the break-up and missing a warm body against hers, but Jenna felt a tinge of desire for you.

She's like this with everyone. This is just her job.

Jenna listens to you and sinks into her seat. As she leans back, you lean in, turning around and sitting on her lap. Your hips swirl against her and you feel her clench her legs together. The purpose was to turn the client on, but you were enjoying this a little too much for your own professional lines. You turned your head over your shoulder to watch Jenna's face and she quickly adverted her eyes once again. You almost laughed at her reaction, but didn't want to make her nervous again.

However it was almost impossible not to make Jenna with the way you moved against her body. You leaned back and she she moved with you in the process. Your head rests on her shoulder and your arm comes around to wrap around her head. It takes everything in her not to run her hand up your body and grope your tits. The cool air made them so stiff that they begged for attention. There was a wetness that was growing between your legs that you tried to ignore, but some people turned you on so much that it drove you crazy. Jenna could feel your passion radiating off of you. You closed your eyes and let out a groan as if you were turning yourself on. It was in Jenna's instincts to do something to help you, but she remembered the setting. It was polite to keep her hands to herself, but you didn't want that. You grabbed one of her hands and placed it on your chest. Finally she seemed to give in a little and groped your flesh causing you to let out a heavy sigh.

"Baby," you moaned as if you too were intimately familiar with each other. It let Jenna play into the fantasy a little more.

She touched you like she would touch her ex-girlfriend. If she closed her eyes she could imagine that it was her. Guilt swam in her belly along with desire. All of her thoughts were in her head, so it wasn't like you had to know, but she would feel wrong for doing a pretty girl like you injustice by imagining she's thought someone else.

Jenna opens her eyes back to reality. Your exposed neck is right within reach of her lips and she takes the opporunity to just kiss your skin one time. She pauses for your reaction and feels warmth spread through her body when you moan in approval. She kisses your skin again and again until she feels comfortable enough parting her lips to suck on your skin. Now you're the one clench your legs together in search for some kind of relief.

This all escalated quickly and you know the timer is going to be up soon. The room was only booked for 30 minutes. You didn’t want things to end so soon, but just like Jenna you also had your rules about work. you felt the urge to take things farther and it was getting harder to ignore.

“Touch me here,” you say desperately.

Once again, you grab her hand and move it on your body. This time it lands in between your thighs. You spread your legs wide to give her a hint and she bravely takes it. She rubs your clit through your panties. The wetness of your arousal seeps through the material and Jenna can feel it.

“Just like that,” you sigh with pleasure.

Jenna is too stunned to speak. She didn’t expect that her night would end with her making a stripper cum. She wishes she could feel your bare, wet flesh against her skin but she wasn’t going to push her luck. She let you take control of the situation. She was like most clients who were eager to please but you liked how she touched you more so than others. She wasn’t too rough with you but used the right amount of pressure to make you pop. She sucked on your neck and rubbed you like you were precious cargo. It was possible that you were fulfilling a fantasy for her which was your job.

"Oh baby I'm gonna cum!"

The way you drag out the syllables and how it's followed by a moan makes Jenna heart beat out of her chest. She wonders if you can feel it while pressed so close against her. She can surely feel your clit pulsing under her touch. She rubs you through your orgasm as your entire body shakes. It's been so long, probably months, since someone has made you cum so hard and it was at the hands of someone who obviously has never stepped into a strip club before. It was easy to suss those ones out, and Jenna had something in her eyes that screamed naïve and you were sucked into what brought her here. She was probably put up to this, but to be bold enough to touch a stripper let alone make her cum, she was something else.

Once your movements stilled and you got off of her, Jenna looked everywhere besides into your eyes. "Uh...thank you." She scurried out of the room before you could say anything and before the allotted time for the room was up. It's unlikely she'll ever come back this place again, but this city isn't as big as many would think, and you hope that you'll be able to say 'what a small world' very soon.

[highhhfiveee]

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!  i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night 

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max). 

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert. 

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world. 

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face. 

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please." 

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more." 

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's. 

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike. 

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly. 

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs. 

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave. 

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something. 

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret. 

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously? 

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey." 

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet." 

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet. 

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off. 

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car. 

you didn't know how long you could go on like this. 

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)  all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Scream week request!

Ethan Landry x fem!reader with prompt #2 (“Did you touch yourself to the thought of me?’’) please!!!

Thank you!!!

SCREAM WEEK 4/7

I got so many requests for this one!

Warnings: 18+, mention of masturbation

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

There was a leak at your apartment, so Chad kindly offered you to come stay at his and Ethan’s place until it was repaired. It was small for three people, but you made it work. 

You set your suitcase down by the couch, tired of rolling it for the past twenty minutes through the busy subway. ‘’Thanks, again. I would have asked Tara, but she and Sam got into a fight and I don't want to be caught in the middle of it. You know how they get.’’

‘’I wouldn’t want to either,’’ Chad said, knowing the Carpenter sisters and their temper. ‘’The couch's not new, but I've fallen asleep on it many times and it's not too bad. I'll fetch you some blankets and pillows.’’

Your first two days living with the boys didn't go without awkward encounters. First, you walked in on Chad in the bathroom — thankfully, he was just shaving and had a towel on. Then, there was that one time you were looking through your suitcase for a specific shirt and Ethan tripped on one of your bras. You didn’t think it was that awkward — it’s just a bra —, but his cheeks went bright red, not used to seeing girls undergarments.

On the third day, that’s when the awkward level skyrocketed. 

You were showering, but when you got out and reached for your towel, you realized you had forgotten it on the back of the couch... Making a naked run to get it was out of the question, so you had to call out through the door and ask someone to bring it to you. 

Chad was busy in the kitchen, so Ethan brought it to you. You cracked the door slightly, just enough for the towel to be slipped through, but as he handed it over, his gaze inadvertently caught sight of your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t notice anything, just wanting to dry yourself and finish getting ready, but the incident sent blood rushing to his pants. 

When you came out of the bathroom, Ethan’s door was closed. You thought he had already left, but you could hear muffled sounds and moans coming from inside. 

A few minutes after Chad left, Ethan came out of his room. His shirt was different and his hair was a bit ruffled. 

‘’You’re here,’’ he remarked, halting his steps, surprised to see you.

Sitting at the kitchen island, you hummed, knowing better than you speak with your mouth full. 

‘’I thought you had a morning class?’’ Ethan said, taking a seat across from you and avoiding your eyes.

‘’Not until ten,’’ you explained, taking another spoonful of your smoothie bowl. Having Chad around to make you breakfast in the morning was something you would miss when returning to your apartment. ‘’Do you want some?’’ you asked, pointing at your bowl. 

Ethan shook his head. ‘’Eh, no thanks. I’m not hungry.’’ He set his laptop on the island and turned it on. ‘’I need to re-write my business notes from yesterday. My laptop died, so I had to use good old paper and a pen...and my bad handwriting.’’ 

You finished eating in silence, scrolling on your phone to pass time. ‘’Ethan?’’ 

He hummed, his eyes not leaving his screen. 

‘’Did you touch yourself thinking about me?’’ you asked bluntly, catching him off guard. 

‘’W-what? No,’’ Ethan stammered, his cheeks and ears turning crimson. ‘’I would never…’’ 

‘’You can tell me if you were.’’ You purposely took your time licking the purple smoothie off your spoon, knowing he would sneak a glance at you when you wouldn’t be looking. 

‘’I know. But I wasn't,’’ he replied hastily, mentally groaning when he caught your purple stained tongue. 

‘’Then why were you saying my name?’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre  @emerald-09

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[httpsdana]

omg please write prompt 49 with florian wirtz. there is not enough fics of him🥺😩

Birthday Cake~Florian Wirtz

*GIF is not mine. credits to the owner*

finally we're back with these and it's Florian Wirtz for the first time. I hope you enjoy <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

49-"How is my gorgeous girlfriend doing ?" "What did you do?"

It was y/n's birthday. And Florian being her very caring and loving boyfriend, he wanted to make her feel special on this special day.

She was sleeping at his house, and in the morning, Florian woke up before her. He pressed a light kiss on her forehead and silently got up from their bed.

After using the bathroom and brushing his teeth he went to the kitchen. He started off by making a pancake batter which was probably the best thing he can do. He wasn't the best chef, but he would always try for the sake of y/n, since she wasn't the best chef either.

He tried shaping the pancakes as hearts, didn't end up looking really good but the shape was there. After that he cut her some fruits, a banana and some strawberries. He added some syrup before he went to do her iced coffee.

When he finished everything, he placed the plate and coffee on a tray. He did himself some coffee and walked to his room.

y/n was still asleep, her arms wrapped around Florian's pillow. Florian smiled and the cute sight

He placed his mug and the tray on the nightstand, leaning closer to y/n. He pecked her forehead lightly, before moving to her cheeks and kissing them a few times too.

y/n started shifting in her sleep, still asleep. Florian smiled and pecked her lips too. Finally, she opened her eyes with a small smile.

She was met with her sweet boyfriend's contagious smile, his messy hair making his morning face just more perfect

"good morning honey" y/n mumbled, her eyes still half open.

"good morning my sweet girl. happy birthday beautiful" he mumbled back, brushing her hair away from her face. She smiled at him, kissing the hand that was caressing her face.

"I made you some breakfast" he said, handing her the tray. She looked at him in an 'awe', kissing his cheek.

"thank you. that's so thoughtful of you" she pouted, her eyes slightly tearing up.

"don't cry baby. enjoy your food" he said, kissing her forehead before she started munching on her pancakes.

"you know... I've always dreamt about breakfast in bed" she said, her mouth full of her boyfriend's pancakes.

He laughed at her words, kissing her shoulder softly.

"I'm glad I was the first one to do that for you" he smiled.

"oh shit. the girls are supposed to be picking me up in a few" she said glancing at her phone.

Florian nodded, sipping on his coffee. He knew she was gonna go out which made it perfect for him. He was gonna try something new.

"enjoy sweetheart. if you need me just text" Florian kissed her before she left through the door.

He rushed to the kitchen, grabbing his phone and opening YouTube.

"how to make cake for my girlfriend's birthday"

The first video popped up was the video he opened.

He first got all the ingredients needed, and placed them on the counter in from of him.

He started by breaking the eggs, which ended up with a broken egg on the floor and some on his hands. He washed his hands quickly and cleaned the floor, before going back to work.

Time Skip

The cake was in the oven, but at what cost? Florian had flour in his hair and on his clothes, he dropped some oil on his shirt and now they won't go off. That's beside the floor and the counter that were messy.

He sighed, checking the time. y/n was supposed to be home in an hour or so. He runned to his bathroom, taking a shower to clean up.

After the shower, he went through his phone on his bed, before he started smelling something... burning?

His eyes widened at the realization, rushing to the kitchen and opening the oven.

It wasn't that bad but also, he had to cover it up. He groaned, his plan for the cake ruined by the burning of it.

He started first by cutting the burnt parts, throwing them away. He learned a fast way of making whipped cream. Which he did and tried covering up the cake.

But now it was all white and boring. He opened the fridge, trying to find something to design the cake. He found some strawberries which he cut and put around the cake. Then he found some M&Ms which he put in the middle. The cake was decent at end, but as soon as he finished the door of his apartment opened.

He rushed to the door, seeing y/n already taking off her shoes.

"how's my gorgeous girlfriend doing?" he chuckled nervously, making y/n look at him suspiciously

"what did you do?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest with a smile.

"why would you assume I did something?" he laughed anxiously, his eyes avoiding hers.

"well first your avoiding eye contact and second the house smells as if it was on fire" she said in a as a matter-of-fact tone.

Florian slammed his hand against his forehead, making y/n laugh.

"okay i tried something..." he mumbled. He walked her to the kitchen, leading her to where he placed the cake.

Her jaw dropped to the ground as she stared at the badly decorated but adorable cake her boyfriend made for her. Tears filled up her eyes quickly as she turned to Florian

"why are you crying? is it that bad?" he said quickly, making her slap his shoulder

"no stupid. I love this so much" she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He let out a sigh of relief hugging her with same force back.

"this means so much to me you have no idea. thank you so much Florian." she mumbled into his neck. He kissed her head before she removed it from his neck.

"does it taste good tho?" y/n joked, getting a fork from the drawer. Florian gave her a nervous look, shrugging his shoulders.

She took a bite from the cake, her eyes widening, as she swallowed the piece slowly.

"it's...good" she said hesitantly, making Florian's face drop

"oh god is it that bad?" he chuckled.

"maybe a little bit" she said

He laughed, grabbing her waist and pulling her to his arms. He kissed her lips softly and tenderly.

"happy birthday baby. I'll phone the patisserie next to your house to make you another cake." he mumbled against her lips, making her laugh

[buckyalpine]

Hi love ! I have a really fluffy request for you ! Bucky and reader are married and have a beautiful baby girl about 3-4 years old .But when they first met , Bucky and Reader where always bickering , seemingly hating each other. One day , Reader gets home from work to find her husband and daughter on the couch . She’s in her dad’s lap facing him while he’s telling her a story . She smiles at the image in front of her and moves closer to hear the story . The story is how her dad fell in love with her mom . And while she expected to hear about the day they both realized what they had wasn’t hate for each other but love , she heard a completely different story . One Bucky hasn’t told her about . He told his daughter about the first day her ever saw her mom . How the moment he looked at her smile he knew he was we head over heels and wanted to be the one to place all her smiles there . Reader starts sniffling and that’s when they both notice her and run towards her to attack her with hugs and kisses cause they think you’re sad . And then Bucky tells both of you the story of how he fell in love with his wife . Just enemies to lovers and a bunch of domestic fluff

THIS IS SO CUTE MY GOODNESS I've been so excited to get to this from the moment I saw it. Amazing. This is beautiful. I hope you see this my lovely, this request was from a while back, I’m so sorry I took so long to get to it

You smiled hearing your husbands soft voice carry through from the living room while you hung your coat in the closet. Your heart warmed at the sight you saw in the living room, your sweet baby looking wide eyed at your husband while he told her a story. Her attention was completely on him, she didn't even hear the door open or your footsteps. You cocked your head, wondering exactly how great this story was, raising your brow when you heard his next few words.

"And that's when I saw your mama"

Your baby squealed, clapping her hands hearing the entrance of her pretty mommy, scooting closer so she could hear every word. Bucky grinned, letting her crawl onto his lap, letting her get settled before continuing. You silently giggled to yourself, reminiscing about the way you and Bucky fell in love. You had always bickered, never agreeing on anything. You expected Bucky to tell your baby girl about how one day you both realized all the little arguments, disagreements and quarrels were because you were both too silly to realize you were both in love with each other. 

5 years ago

“You’re a fucking dumb ass” You hissed, glaring at the smug super soldier who had a cocky smirk on his face, unbothered that you looked like you were about to strangle him across the jet. 

“No need to flatter me princess-oh shi- 

You lurched from your seat, ready to tackle Bucky to the floor, only to be stopped by a large arm snaking around your waist, pulling you back. 

“Put me down Rogers” You growled while Steve chuckled, holding you to his side like a football. “Just let me have 5 minutes with him” 

“You’re both like school children” Steve held you in place while you huffed, wishing you could swing at Bucky’s jaw at least once but alas, it wasn’t your lucky day. 

There wasn’t a day where you and Bucky got along. It was like he was sent on this earth for the sole purpose of annoying you and it had been that was from the day you met. Every since you joined the team, Bucky made it his mission to critique you and annoy you in every way possible. Your fighting form, mission assignments, weapon choice, even the way you made your damn coffee was a problem for him. 

“I like my coffee black” 

“Well excuse me for not wanting to drink hot bitterness first thing in the morning” 

“Not a fan of hot bitterness, would be difficult to drink me, wouldn’t it” 

You threw your toast at Bucky’s head while he cackled, it wasn’t even 7 am yet and Bucky had trailed behind you, determined to start your morning off with his nagging. 

“You don’t even taste the coffee when you add milk and sugar” Bucky sassed, loving every minute of you getting more and more riled up with his side commentary, there was something about you when you got annoyed with him. 

His angry little bunny. 

It had been months of your back and forth, there wasn’t a single moment of peace where you both mutually agreed on something. 

“Will you fuck off” You deadpanned while Bucky corrected your fighting stance, moving your leg back and arms up. 

“Just shut up and fix your form” Maybe I should fuck you instead-what. Bucky flicked off the rogue thought that slipped into his mind as you shuffled, brushing against his body, his muscles tensed with how close you were to him. 

****

“Y/n!” Bucky shoved you out of the way, groaning when he felt the knife plunge into his side, dropping to his knees and falling onto the floor. 

“Bucky!” You ran to his side, killing off the hydra agent within seconds before Steve and Sam came to his aid, whisking him off to the jet. You ran behind them, your heart hammering out of your chest while they helped him strip off his tac gear to give him stiches. You took over, insisting the other two could finish up the mission while you took care of Bucky; there was no way you’d be able to focus on anything else anyway. Not when he was hurt. 

He groaned, lying down in pain but alert enough to see the way your eyes were glassy, worry etched on your face. You cut off the rest of his shirt, your breath hitching looking at all the dark bruises that littered his body, a few of those hits from shielding you. 

“Baby” Your voice was hardly a whisper, not even realizing what you’d just called him, trying to hold yourself together so you could take care of him. 

“Baby, huh?” Bucky smirking, wincing in pain while you applied pressure to his cut, stopping some of the bleeding before grabbing the med kit to stitch him up. “Can I finally be your baby now?” 

“This doesn’t change anything Barnes” You snorted, bringing him to lie down on your lap while the Jet took off, your hand softly stroking his hair. “I still hate you” you rolled your eyes, trying to look as annoyed as possible but on the inside your stomach was doing flips.

“You love me” Bucky smirked, his heart beating a little faster because deep down he wished it were true. He wished there were more to all your petty squabbles.

“Hm” You shook your head, a hint of a smile flashing across your face before collecting yourself again. “Maybe”

Bucky bit his lip, nodding, not trusting himself to respond to that, closing his eyes and falling asleep. 

Maybe.

Present 

That was the story you thought he was telling her. 

But that wasn't. 

You’d never heard this story. 

“The first day I ever saw your mama, I fell in love with her pretty smile, almost tripped on my own feet seeing her. Daddy was head over heels for her” 

Your daughter’s cheeks looked like they were going to burst, smiling so hard, her eyes wide with amazement.

“What did you do daddy, did you make mommy smile? Did she fall heels over head for you too?!” 

Bucky snorted, cuddling his baby close to his chest, kissing her chubby cheek. 

“Uh huh, I wanted to be the reason she always smiled. You know Uncle Steve brought her to uncle Tony’s house and as soon as she walked in the door, I thought she was a princess” 

“Mama’s pretty”

“Mhm, so pretty baby, I feel in love with all of her. Your mama was the kindest person I’ve ever met, she was always so sweet to daddy” 

“What did she do?”

“You know how daddy gets scary dreams sometimes?” 

“Uh huh” 

Bucky’s nightmares had improved significally but they didn’t disappear. Instead of hiding that side of him from your daughter, you had insisted on letting her learn about it. Bucky had hesitated but you didn’t want him to have to hide any part of himself. Your sweet girl was the most understanding, and Bucky was thankful every single day that his daughter knew all parts of him. 

“She’d make sure I was okay after, she’d check on me. She’s so smart and brave, when we go on missions, she’d take care of me, sometimes even uncle Steve, uncle Tony, uncle Sam, uncle Clint, aunty Nat”

“ALL OF THEM?!”

Bucky laughed, nodding while your baby grasped onto his shirt, fully engrossed in this story. 

“All of them. But she was the nicest to daddy”

“Did she give you lots of hugs?” 

“Sometimes even kisses”

“Daddyyy” Your daughter burst into a fit of giggles at the word kisses, nuzzling her face into his neck before pulling away with more questions. “So what did you do?!” 

You didn’t even realize you were sniffling until Bucky and your baby girl both turned to you wide eyed when they saw your tear streaked face. You knew Bucky loved you. There was no doubt you were both madly in love with each other but you never heard his side of how he felt about you. 

How he adored you from day one. 

All the silly little things he did to get your attention. 

How beautiful he found you. 

How much it meant to him when you made sure he was okay. 

Everything just made him fall hard for you all while you also fell in love with him. 

Bucky ran over to you while your little one padded behind him, attacking you in a flurry of hugs and kisses. 

“What’s wrong darling” Bucky cooed, wiping your tears away while you shook your head, scooping your baby in your arms. She kissed your face all over, grabbing your cheeks, concern etched on her face. 

“Why is mama sad”

“Mommy isn’t sad baby” Her face scrunched while you laughed, leaning against your husband as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m happy. I heard daddy telling you a story”

Bucky grinned while your babygirl nodded immediately, her tiny hand tugging on Bucky’s sleeve. 

“Daddy you didn’t finish!!!” 

“Sorry bubba” Bucky turned to you, his heart filled with butterflies, it didn’t matter that you had already been married for 4 years, he was forever head over heels in love with you, “You want to hear the story too, doll?” Bucky smiled, brining you to cuddle with him on the couch, your daughter snuggled against his chest again. 

“Tell us the story daddy!!” 

“It all started when uncle Steve had a plan...”

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @carrotfantasimp  

[velvetures]

*Peeks from a corner*

Merry Christmas!

Hi um...can I just say your comfort fluff fics have made me realize just how touche-starved I personally am. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

So, if I could be so bold as to ask for a fic with Soap or Gaz or Keegan with that same theme? Making sure they're taken care of, or make them feel safe enough to let their guard down for a bit?

Again, totally fine if you have other things to do, but it would really male my day if you did. Thank you and have a nice day!

- 💀

Fall Back

a/n: thank you for the request babes... I'm sorry Christmas is just now here in mid-fucking May :( I'm ashamed. Additionally, this is my first time writing for Keegan... and I'm still working out the specifics for my interpretation of his character and behavior. So this is a bit different from what I've written before. Hopefully you enjoy it. summary: Keegan's worn down to the bone. And you're there to help him. t/w's: none.

his eyes are almost identical to my husband's... why didn't I notice until now...

He only comes to you when things get too heavy to bear.

And not in the way a refrigerator empty of food, or a late rent payment would weigh on your mind. You’ve not seen the same things he has… and fuck, he’ll do anything to make sure you never do. The mere thought that any of the nightmares and constant PTSD triggers that make him jumpy could touch your conscious would send him into an entirely new mental warfare, impossible to win. No, he shows up when he needs it most. No matter what you might be doing, or how it could appear, he’s crawling on his belly with a broken look in his eyes. Pride bruised, strength dissolved, and voice rough with more pain than you thought he could ever survive.

You tried keeping the back door unlocked for him. Thinking he’d take it as a sign that your home is always welcome. It resulted in him forcing you to lock the doors and make him a key. That lasted a couple of months, and then he lost the key somewhere in Cuba. Something about a guy ripping his chain off his neck and subsequently the key to your door that he wore alongside his dog tags. He’d been quick to change all of your locks after that. And since then, he’s decided that crawling in through your bedroom window is the only way he’ll enter your house unless you’re formally inviting him in.

Maybe it’s the anti-social part of him that believes he can’t come and go as he pleases. Spending precious time sneaking into your little house instead of doing what he came for in the first place. Getting close to you. Sometimes he won’t wake you up. Just taking off his bloody-soaked gear and taking a quick wash in the shower before curling up to you in bed. Tucking you under him, and breathing in the soft smell of your soap and fresh sheets. Other times, you’ll stir away when you hear boots scuffing heavily against the floor. Hearing heavy breaths and his tac vest thumping to the floor. Witnessing what it’s like when a ghost finally runs out of hatred and cold-blooded determination.

“Are you hurt?” It’s almost always your first question. After so many missions, he’s almost always got something that needs looked at. And while you never thought that tying stitches or cleaning shallow stab wounds would be a common occurrence in your life, Keegan has made it so that your medical kit under your bathroom sink is always stocked and ready for emergency-room worthy injuries.

He’s not going to talk much, even if he’s in good shape. It’s not in his disposition. More like a shelter dog sent back too many times for growling or bearing his teeth. Wary of everything, yet so desperate for touch that he’s willing to show you exactly where a bullet grazed his thigh. About eight hours old and weeping blood, staining a pair of pants that you’ll spend time scrubbing out in the morning while doing laundry. But if you’re worried, he’s going to hide just how badly he’s hurting… if for nothing than your sake.

He’s already broken into your house again… and now bleeding all over the bathroom rug with pretty flowers you bought after the last time he made a mess in there. Constantly reminding himself it’s selfish to demand you care for him. To show up with a shitty fucking attitude and guilt you into licking his wounds when he can’t bear to do it himself, or admit to the medical staff on base that he needs it. You’re too kind for this kind of bullshit. Too sweet to run him off though. And it’s why he keeps crawling back. Greedy… hungry… insatiable… he’s always admonishing himself for just how little control he possesses when there’s an opportunity to leave you alone, or place himself right in the middle of your life again.

“Everyone come back alive?”

Keegan has a love hate relationship with that particular question. Debating on whether or not he likes that you worry for his teammates in such an honest way; or if he’s so jealous of your mind wandering to them, and what fucked-up things they do during missions that it’s almost unbearable to hear you ask it.

“Alive.” He breathes out steadily as you thread your stitching through his skin for an eighth time, tying another knot over his twitching and aching muscles.

You’re always asking questions about the missions. About what he had to do, if he got hurt, where they went… it’s innocent enough. You mean well. But he never can tell you much. Protective instinct and top secret red tape make much of the details not worth the risk of divulging. But he’s patient with you. Giving away small hints maybe by saying a few words in a native language, or talking about a particular landmark that might’ve been close enough that you can make a guess from there. At this point, you’ve learned at least a few words in: German, Russian, Thai, and multiple hispanic dialects. A smart woman, of course, but he’s always surprised when you connect his work to something you’ve seen on the news.

It’s like you’re always watching for him.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Maybe you do look out for him in more ways than one. Not bothering with the fact that you’d already completed your nightly routine, just to strip down and get a shower running. Rubbing out strained shoulders with soft hands, and gently thumbing out the thick knots in his lower back. It’s the only pressure he’s willing to accept in this state. Merely breathing just to live for more of your touch. Keegan can’t even bother with soap, and had it not been for you, he wouldn’t have at all. Feeling you scrub down every inch of him. Much more like a maid than… well… he still didn’t know what kind of label to put on this relationship.

There were too many variables and more questions than he could answer. Sure it was… transactional at times, but he’d be remiss to ignore all of the ways you occupied his thoughts when it wasn’t appropriate to. And you always do more than you’re supposed to. Just like now. Wrapping your arms around him for behind and kissing over his shoulder blades. Humming a soft tune and letting your fingertips trace over his stomach. Any man should be able to admit that he’s weak for it… but Keegan can’t readily do that.

Fighting his own heart pounding in his chest as you sway him back and forth. Wishing he could let this feeling go. Be a stronger man. Be a better ghost and lock himself away behind the gear and guns. Fuck. You’re so good at it though. Stripping him down to nothing, even when he thought there wasn’t anything else left. Soothing aches and kissing away pains he blocked out for so long that he felt like had disappeared. You are smarter than that. You know how his mind works whether he likes it or not. How willing he is to go from hell and back so many times that he’s unsure of what kind of being he truly is. Caught between worlds of warfare and the softer one where you always welcome him back, knowing that within a few days the gore will call him back for service.

“Sleep on the couch…” He mutters, standing with a towel slung around his hips and a bleary look in satin light-blue eyes. “Don’t wanna stain your sheets.”

He’d seen them upon arrival; crisp white and hundred-dollar softness he didn’t want to touch. Between the blood and feeling of getting spoiled to them, it wasn’t worth it to him. He’d done it before without much thought, but this time something was making him attempt responsibility.

“Then I’m coming with you, Russ.”

You’re smiling that damned smile he dreams about. That one where the gap between your front teeth shows and the dimpled skin on your cheeks shadows just enough to make him forget that you’re human. Angelic. Teasing… Gracefully not leaving him room for an argument. Simply turning around and headed towards the bedroom without another word as to if he’d be choosing to lay cramped on your couch. Hell, it’s four in the morning, and your mind is sharp enough to play with him just enough that he’s stalking back into the dark room and watching you crawl into the bed with an expectant, innocent look directed at him.

Keegan can’t help it.

He’s under the sheets and unceremoniously reaching for you without hesitation. Feeling his callouses catch on your skin and wincing when he hears his rough palms scratch at you. No matter how rough it feels, you’re still sliding closer. Careful of bruises and cuts, tucking yourself against him and using one arm to guide his head against your chest. Laying just above him. Incentivizing him to hug tightly to you and tuck his head under your chin. Allowing this unfeeling soldier to hide in the temporary shelter of your heartbeat.

You rub his head, and feel short, clipped, hair tickle your fingertips. Soft from a shampoo and condition after weeks away in sand that made the bathroom floor feel gritty. You’re almost always pressing kisses to his forehead and using your other hand to rub over his brow bone and bridge of his nose. Seeing in the nighttime shadow where his face paint has settled into wrinkles that you didn’t manage to wash off in the shower. Looking at long, black eyelashes that flutter a bit when you scratch up and down the back of his neck.

“You’re so pretty…” You always talk to him like this. Unable to keep from spouting praise that wells up after long periods of not knowing if he’s alive, let alone safe.

You’re not dumb. You know he’s dangerous. Maybe even a monster in some people’s eyes. But it’s a necessary evil, and it’s something you came to terms with easily. Because you didn’t just see him for the guns and direct orders. You got to witness moments like this where he’s nothing but a man in desperate need of humanity. Hungry for connection. Soft touches… and whether he liked it or not, the praises that you whisper against his pink-tipped ears.

“You’re the pretty one, dollie.” He grumbles back, squeezing your hip in a big hand.

It makes your face heat up just ask quickly when he pulls that one out. Almost always with a nickname up his sleeve that just makes it all that much more worth it. But being anything other than your own name to him… it’s a different kind of reward. One that has you smiling like a fool as you get sleepier. Nearly petting him to sleep, and hoping to god you can stay awake longer than he does just to prove you’re willing to. Maybe willing isn’t even strong enough…

Any way you think about it, there’s a sense of duty you hold much like his to a career as a ghost. Yours stemming from love so deep for this man that it’s painful watching him crawl to you as a last resort. Despising what or whoever made him feel like wanting a warm bed, and someone to look after him when he’s weak, is wrong. God it’s enough to make you angry. Looking down at a man who could make anyone tremble, and seeing him curled up against your chest like he’s clinging to a shred of comfort. If you thought picking up a gun alongside him would change things, you’re certain you’d have done it years ago. Right when all of this started and Keegan was much more proud. Unwilling to relent as easily as he does now.

But it took that long because there wasn’t another option.

He wouldn’t have allowed it if you were any different of a person, or hadn’t possessed the patience for him to let go like this. You’re positive no one knows that this is where he runs to when things get too hard. None of his team, and with no family to speak of, you’re left as his final resort, but the only one he trusts. Unlike Keegan who avoids his medal pinnings with sheer hatred, you wear your designation proudly. You’re always shining it… polishing it… looking for the first opportunity to show just how willing you are. Just for the chance to hold him. Anything to feel his breathing even out after weeks of holding it. Anything to clean him up. Put him back together.

All while silently praying that it’ll be the last time. Wishing he’d see that you aren’t a last resort, and that he can lay here as long as he wants without losing the worth he assigned to himself after becoming a ghost. Wondering when it’ll come to an end where he can come back and hang up the guns laying on your bedroom floor, forever. Patiently anticipating the day you can not have to wait until he’s asleep to say exactly how you feel.

“I love you, Keegan…”

comments & reblogs are always appreciated 🤎

[mistydeyes]

Hi! I don't think your rules link on your master list is working? (It might just be the Tumblr app being silly) but I've like to request a COD fic with a reader who has a moderate to severe penicillin allergy is accidentally given it while out in the field. Cut to the 141 ripping the medic who didn't check the medical tag a new one and being all protective and shit.

omg nooo thank you for bringing this to my attention, I'll get it fixed bc I love it when y'all request things! I absolutely love this idea too!

Just a little PSA but penicillin allergies are SERIOUS. If you have one, you are automatically not allowed to get anything related to penicillin (including amoxicillin, ampicillin, etc). You also are limited in your drug selection as people with severe allergies can't get any similar antibiotic drugs such as cephalosporins. You may experience hives, rashes, and even anaphylaxis if administered. So it’s always important to have a note in your medical file and notify any medical professionals about the nature of your allergy.

Okay, my little pharmacy soapbox is over, let’s move on to the blurb.

warnings: depiction of wounds and violence, swearing

pairings: 141 x g/n!reader

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

You were the newest member to join the 141. Excelling through your training, you were eventually handpicked by Captain Price to join his team. You were known for your sniper skills, rivaling that of Ghost. You were even more known for your call sign. In your years of being in the army and part of SAS, you became affectionately known as 'Plaster'. Your buddy came up with it as you had been the only one in the squadron to never need to go to the infirmary (avoiding cuts and bandages aka plasters) and also were notorious for outdrinking any recruit that tried to challenge you.

That's why when you ended up in the medical tent with an infected cut, the 141 boys were surprised. Before your intake, you had been providing overwatch on a building as Gaz, Price, and Soap infiltrated. Ghost was in the building across from you, also providing support. As you checked your sights, you immediately heard Ghost over the coms yell, "Behind you!" It was too late as the enemy had taken the opportunity to pull you by the legs and begun to swing his knife. You tried to react quickly but ended up with a slice to your arm before Ghost could take the man out. You knew once you recovered Price would be teaching you a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat.

However, he would have to wait as you had woken up that morning with a high fever. The cut was shallow, only requiring some soap and water and a simple bandage. Somehow, it had become infected. You groggily went to the field hospital. Once there, they removed the bandage and saw the area was red, extending past the initial wound. The field medic brushed it off, saying they would prescribe you some oral antibiotics for a little more than a week. As he cleaned and redressed the wound, he handed you a small pill bottle with ‘Augmentin’ written on it. Before you left, you popped the small, oval pill into your mouth and were sent on your way.

As soon as you exited the tent, you made your way back to your own to get some rest. Your tongue felt puffy in your mouth as you navigated through the maze of tents. Maybe you had bit it in your sleep?

You walked in and sat on your cot, noting Soap sitting across from you in his. You then felt slightly out of breath but assumed it was due to the humidity and sand debris in the air. You lay down, listening to Soap recount the successful mission before you began to hyperventilate. You felt like you were drowning as you tried your best to breathe.

"Oi, are you okay, Plaster?" was all you heard before the world went dark.

When you woke up, you were surrounded by your concerned squadron. You looked around and realized you were in the medical tent. As you tried to sit up, Price put a hand on your shoulder and lightly pushed you back down.

"God, Plaster you gave us a heart attack. You went into anaphylaxis," he began and you were shocked. It wasn't like you were allergic to peanuts or anything but then you realized you were allergic to ampicillin. Something you had learned after a childhood run-in with meningitis.

Price confirmed your suspicions as he added, "that fucking muppet of a medic gave you amoxicillin/clavulanate. Apparently he hadn't realized you were severely allergic to all penicillins," he said through gritted teeth.

You realized that must have been what that white pill was and mentally slapped yourself for the mistake.

"I'm sorry, guys," you began to say as you looked around at their faces. They looked so worried for you and you felt stupid for the simple mistake.

"Ah, it wasn't your fault, Love" Gaz spoke up. "Plus, the 141 got to show the medic what happens when you almost kill our best sniper."

You laughed as Soap described how once the field medic rushed in with an Epi-Pen and they carted you off to the tent, the boys confronted the medic. Apparently in his haste, he had overlooked the very important note that you were not to be given anything related to penicillin, including the prescribed Augmentin.

"You should've seen his face when Price lifted that poor fucker," Soap laughed loudly. "Better yet, I'm sure he pissed his pants when Ghost walked over and held him by his collar. Ghost is one scary motherfucker." To this comment, Soap received a slight slap on the back of his head.

You were appreciative of their efforts but couldn't imagine the lashing they would be getting from their superiors.

The ever-quiet Ghost ended the story by saying, "It was just a little taste for all of what you went through. I'm glad you're doing alright despite that idiot."

You cracked a smile as you lay in bed, appreciating your teammates who defended you like brothers.

As they left you to rest, you could hear Gaz whisper, "You don't think the laxatives in his tea were a little much?" You realized that this medic's life would be made a living hell for the remainder of your tour.

Years later it became a running joke. As you sat in the bar recounting stories of your service, Soap loudly joked, "And to think, Plaster almost got taken out by a little cut and some medicine." That earned him a hard slap to the back of the head.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

a/n Did anyone else watch NCIS? every time someone mentions getting a slap to the head, I think of Gibbs.

[otomiyaa]

Chigiri x Ticklish Reader

Romantic + 17. “You have three seconds to run.” Requested by anon for my 1K Followers Event🌻

aaaa work is super busy and I have date-weekend with my boyfriend planned BUT I cannot let this week go by without putting that chigiri request out there (because I saw the movie hehe hypehype) so here goes!

Chigiri Hyoma. You loved him, of course you did. He was your boyfriend after all. You were already approaching your 2-year anniversary and had moved in together recently.

Living together with your lovely boyfriend however, it reopened your eyes to how conveniently pretty he was. Whether he was ill, moody, lazy, hungover, exhausted and sweaty after a soccer match, it didn't matter. Chigiri looked like he could step out and pose for model work any second.

And then there was you.

"Geez!" you whined trying to get your hair the way you wanted it. It was not cooperating! You were freshly showered, dressed in your best outfit to go to work, and still, you looked like you just mopped the floor. With your head.

"Morning." You froze and looked to your side to see Chigiri shuffle into the bathroom. He yawned and scratched his tummy, only getting out of bed just now since he didn't need to get up as early as you today.

Your jaw dropped. Bed-head boyfriend Chigiri had entered the conversation, and he looked stunning as ever. "It's unfair," you said.

Chigiri cocked his head. "What is?" He yawned again and uncharmingly stretched himself. Yet, he looked like a model.

"Here I am, suited up for work. And you just got out of bed, looking like a princess woken up from her slumber andー" Your eyes widened. Chigiri gave you a stare.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Oh no. Oh no no no no eeeek! You blushed and quickly turned back to the mirror.

"N-n-nothing! You're just s-so pretty, even after waking up. W-while there is me, just showered, dressed neatly and I look like this."

"We can talk about that later, since I disagree," Chigiri said, looking you up and down and making you blush even more.

"But, what else did you just say?"

"N-nothing!"

Princess. The forbidden word.

You had teased him with the nickname a lot in the beginning of your relationship, and it had kind of turned into a thing. Chigiri would unleash his tickle punishments of terror onto you anytime you would call him princess. Literally, anytime.

It just gradually became an unwritten rule. Call Chigiri a princess? Get wrecked. You had gotten used to it and knew to be careful, except just now. You were too busy whining and dropped your guard!

Chigiri shrugged. "Hmmm, 'kay."

You sighed in relief when he merely stood by the sink to throw some water in his face. Then when he dried himself with a towel, looking so pretty it hurt your eyes, he eyed you calmly.

"I'm still getting ready so, you have three seconds to run." You gulped.

"What? Why would I, hehe, run?" you asked nervously. Chigiri chuckled.

"You don't know? For calling me the P-word, and for lying about it of course. Now off you go, sweetie. Go somewhere I can tickle you comfortably. Or we can do it right here," Chigiri said, gesturing at the narrow space of the bathroom. You took a step back, realized he was serious, and then indeed ran.

"S-sweetie! I know something better, we can save it for after I come back from work! Don't you dahahare- EEEEHehehe!" you screeched when all of a sudden you felt two arms around your middle as Chigiri caught you from behind.

Ack, you barely heard him move. He was that fast! You didn't even make it to the bedroom.

"Don't worry. I've never tickled you for longer than 5 minutes at least. The punishments are quickー" he said, and he immediately tickled your sides while hugging you.

"But powerful," he finished, and you and your hysterical laughter were then all that could be heard.

"GAHAHA nohoho! Bahahaby I'm sohohorry!"

"Sorry, for what?"

"Hehehehe nohoho!" you answered sheepishly, struggling and squirming in his strong grip. He easily dragged you to the floor where you tried to crawl away, but Chigiri caught you and flipped you over with zero effort. He then sat on your thighs and tickled your sides and tummy mercilessly.

You threw your head back and howled. "NAhahah not thehehere!" you cried, but regretted this when he indeed stopped tickling you there, only to move his fingers further up to aim for your armpits. You shook your head hysterically.

"NO- I m-mean gohoho bahahack! Not my ahaharmpits, plehehease!" Chigiri smirked.

"I'll consider it." It was sarcastic, since he started to tickle your armpits right away, making you cackle for your dear life.

And damn that Chigiri. He had to be the prettiest tickle monster in town. You felt your chest flutter as you looked up at him while he tickled you until you could barely laugh.

The moment you were reduced to silent laughter and tired giggles, he stopped, knowing your limits very well. Smiling fondly, Chigiri leaned in and kissed your lips. He wiped away a tear from your eye and ran his fingers through your hair.

"You look beautiful. But now, you look even more beautiful."

You felt dizzy when he helped you back on your feet, and you were kind of like a doll as your boyfriend dragged you back to the bathroom. There he helped you fix your hair and clothes which he had messed up a little with the tickle attack, while you recovered and caught your breath.

You shyly looked at your reflection in the mirror, and did wonder why you looked different than earlier when you felt so unsure. It indeed wasn't so bad anymore.

"It's because laughter makes you the prettiest," Chigiri answered as if reading your mind. You turned around when he finished brushing your hair, and the two of you shared a tender kiss.

"O-oh.. Does that mean you want me to call you 'princess' more often?" you asked, without thinking of the consequences of course. Chigiri looked at the brush and back at you.

"Are you serious about this? When do you leave for work?"

"A-another 30 minutes to go," you mumbled. Chigiri nodded, held up the brush with one hand and wiggled his fingers with the other.

"Well then, I guess you can spare another five minutes for round two."

Gulp! You were amazed he was so motivated to make you pay for mentioning the word princess with another tickle attack, but you couldn't help but enjoy the warmth and the giddy feeling you had after he tickled you.

At least you were starting the day feeling better now, and it was all thanks to your sweetest, prettiest boyfriend Chigiri.

[shhh-secret-time]

HIII could you do Kyle x reader where it's a soulmate au?? plsss and thank uuu

Anon you were so patient with me! Thank you! And thank you for requesting my favorite boy! I'm so down bad for the sweet red head.

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Pairings: Kyle x GN!Reader

'Oh my god! I'm going to fucking kill him.'

The tips of your fingers traced the golden ink like sentence on your palm, watching as the cursive font danced across your skin. It happened every morning at eight on the dot, a new sentence would sketch itself into your skin. When it first happened, you thought maybe someone drew on you when you weren't paying attention, especially since the next day the words changed. But the font was beautiful and shimmered in the light, what pen could do something like that?

Later as the years went by you learned that apparently you had a soulmate, and these were their thoughts. Whoever they were scared you sometimes with the things they thought about, usually very violent thoughts. It made you wonder what type of person they were. I mean you were sure they wouldn't act on it; you've thought tons of things but that didn't mean you were a bad person. It almost made you wonder what your soulmate thought of your inner voice.

South Park was a small town, not many people chose to actually live in a town that was riddled with a backwater run down mentality. It was famous for all the wrong reasons, but that meant everyone kind of knew each other, or at the very least of each other. The kids you went to elementary with followed you to middle and you followed them to high school. Now here you were in community college sitting in the library with the few people you could call friends.

Bebe Steven's was the first person to call you a friend, so her friends became yours, adopting you into their little group. A close-knit group of people who cared about you, what more could you ask for?

"I can't do it anymore Wendy, please!" Speaking of the blonde, the poor girl was slumped over the table with her cheek pressed into the math textbook. Her bottom lip was poking out and if you didn't know her so well you would swear those crocodile tears were real.

"Bebe you barley passed the last test, and that's because you were copying off of Nicole!" Wendy sighed as she gave into the pitiful whine of her friend, reaching over to pat the top of her curls.

"I knoooow but can't we just have a little break? Pleaaaase! I need to spill some tea!" Bebe sprung up and you knew what was coming. Bebe had a secret weapon, the most powerful puppy eyes in South Park. Before Wendy could avert her eyes, she delivered the killing blow. "Please Wendy? Just ten minutes~ it's super hooooot tea~."

You smiled softly at the both of them, shooting Wendy a look of pity as you watched in real time her lose the internal battle. Wendy's shoulders slumped forward, and she finally smiled.

"Fine...ten minutes and then we're going back to work."

"Yes!" Bebe cheered as she threw her arms around Wendy, pulling her into a tight hug. "SO, guess who found their soulmate!"

You tensed up at the subject maybe without even realizing it, you pulled your sleeve over your palm and held it up to your mouth. You had a horrible habit of chewing on your bottom lip to keep yourself from protesting the conversation.

"Who?"

"Mercedes!"

"Like...waitress Mercedes?"

"Yeaaah! Ugh she's so lucky! I wanna find mine already! At least you're in the same boat I am." Pulling herself from Wendy, Bebe turned to look at you with a smile.

"Y... yeah. Wait Wendy is too, isn't she?" You muttered past your sleeve.

"No! Wendy already knows hers! She's just not doing anything about it!" Bebe sneered and crossed her arms under her chest, her lips pursed into a pout.

"But...why?"

"I just want to focus on me right now. School is important and I don't know, I've got time." Wendy replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

You stared at her in awe, there were times when you couldn't help but admire her. Wendy seemed like she had it all figured out, like she knew what she wanted from life and wasn't afraid to grab ahold of it.

Maybe you should take a page from her book, start doing things for you. The fear of your soulmate being some terrifying violent person shouldn't stop you from at least trying to find them.

It was as if the conversation was breathing life back into Bebe, she perked up and grinned at you. But when your eyes met hers all you could see was the mischief in them, if you didn't know better you'd swear it was excitement.

"Apparently the closer you get to your soulmate the words on your palm with change! You'll be able to tell what they're thinking in real time! Haaaave yours changed yet?" Bebe sung out, her hands reaching across the table to gentle take yours.

She flipped your hand over, so your palms were facing up, her beautiful done red nails seemed to contrast yours. She traced them across the font on your palm with a hum. "Or are you like Wendy and you're waiting? You've gotta know right?"

"N...no I don't. I've been-", you stopped and bit your bottom lip again, "... kind of afraid to find out who it is."

"What? Why?" Bebe took your hand and gave it a squeeze like she was trying to reassure you to keep going.

That's when you pulled your sleeve up the whole way so she could see the rest of the sentence. Their eyes widened and silence fell over the three of you. You kept your eyes on your lap as you let them read it so you missed Wendy's little head tilt. The words ringing in her ears like she could hear it. No, it couldn't be...could it?

"Well, they're just thoughts, right? It's not like whoever it is will actually do it! Come on hun you can't let that stop you! Just, like, pay extra close to your palm today! There might be something sweet on there if they're nearby!"

You furrowed your brows at that if they were nearby? Maybe it was a little harder to tell when everyone in the school wore gloves because of how cold it was, you included. After a few moments of debating between everything you nodded at her and decided you'd keep your gloves off today. With that Wendy's phone chimed letting your little group know that your ten minutes were up, and it was time to get back to studying, but now you were out of it. You couldn't focus on learning anything else but your palm, watching the font like if you blinked you'd miss it.

But nothing changed, the threat on your palm stayed for the rest of the study session. With a sigh you packed your things and got ready to leave the library, the girls hugging you tightly as they went their own way. Leaving into the halls of the school, passing past other students whose voices seemed to fade into the background. But despite your attempts to smother everyone else out, no one could really tune out South Park's famous boys. Stan and Kyle were standing by their lockers talking and for once it was Stan that seemed to be getting under Kyle's skin.

"Dude, this is the fourth time you've blown me off! Come on, we made these plans last week!"

"I know man, but the band needs me! We've got a gig coming up and we have to get more practice in! I'm sorry Kyle, I'll make it up to you!" Stan shot him an apologetic look.

Kyle sighed and simply rolled his eyes, "Sure dude, one of these days I'm going to cash in all of the times you said you'll make it up to me."

Stan let out a laugh and wrapped his arm around the taller man's neck bringing him down to his level. You smiled at the both of them, you didn't know Stan very well, but Kyle was always nice to you. You admired the fact that he always spoke his mind, whoever his soulmate was had to be the luckiest person on earth. Not only because of how sweet he was, but again he always spoke his mind, there was no guessing at what he was thinking. You peered down at your palm again and blinked in surprise, it had changed.

'He's lucky he's my best friend.'

Oh. Oh.

'Are they looking at me? Do I have something on my face?'

You could feel your heart rate pick up, eyes bouncing between your palm and Kyle. Your head was now on a swivel looking around as if the answers would emerge out of the many groups walking around. When Stan broke away from Kyle with his guitar on his back, the red head began putting his books away. There you stood, glued to this spot watching him with intense eyes. So, when he turned and saw your passionate gaze he couldn't help but flinch on the spot, but he couldn't tear his eyes from you.

Your palm changed again. You couldn't believe it. Just a minute ago you were telling your two best friends about how you were afraid to meet your soulmate and now here he was. This felt almost too cliche, like the universe was tired of you trying to run from it. And now here you were standing in the hall, a few steps away from someone who was supposed to be yours. Did he know? Probably not from how quiet you were and how you liked to keep to yourself. So now here you were with all that knowledge and nowhere to run.

'Their eyes are so pretty; I don't know why I've never noticed before.'

Was he trying to kill you? You felt the compliment go straight to your heart, making it speed up. Your face was turning red at his words, even if he didn't say them, you could almost hear them. You felt something in your chest tug you towards him, like your heart was leaping in his direction and demanding that you listen to it. Kyle watched as you made your way to where he was standing, moving through the halls like nothing else matters.

"Um...hey, is everything okay?" Kyle nervously looked down at you, he couldn't help wondering why his heart was racing so hard.

Sure, you were attractive, but that wasn't all you were. Sure, he really liked your laugh when he heard you talking with Bebe and Wendy, and he secretly wished he made you laugh like that. Sure, you had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, but he would never tell you that. How could he? What if you thought he was a freak and oh my god you're saying something and he's not paying attention.

"- so yeah, can you take your gloves off for me?"

"H-huh my gloves? Uh sure." Kyle shook himself out of his trance, he didn't know why you needed his gloves off but that was his fault for not paying attention.

As he removed his gloves you got a glance at his palm looking for any signs of words on his palm.

'I never realized how tall he is.' Those were your thoughts. Your thoughts were on his palm, and he doesn't even realize it yet.

"Did you need to borrow them? Are you cold?" He's asking you with such a soft voice, care laced in his tone.

"No no I just um okay this is going to sound really strange... b-but can you think of an animal for me?"

"An... animal? Like my favorite animal?"

"Sure. That works." You chuckled at the confusion on his face, brows furrowed together in deep thought which was exactly what you wanted.

'Fox.' That's cute.

"Your favorite animal is a fox?" You asked looking up from your palm with a smile.

"Huh but I... how did-" He stopped. The whole situation came crashing down onto him, his mouth opened to say something, but nothing would come out. So now he just looked like a fish gasping for air.

"Yeah I- wow this is it. I think you're my soul-mate Kyle." As you showed him your palm you almost had to laugh about how many times you've flashed it at people today.

Those deep forest green eyes of his watched the golden light on your palm swirl and change as his thoughts did. The tips of his ears turn red as he desperately tries to keep his thoughts under control, soulmate or not he didn't want to scare you off with stupid shit his brain comes up with.

"Is um...is your favorite animal on my palm too?" No. It wasn't.

'His eyes are like emeralds.'

"You think my eyes are like emeralds?"

"You think my smile is cute?" You shot back with a small smirk making him look away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kyle and you stood in silence for a few moments, hearts racing and nervous shifting from foot to foot. "So, um...my weekend is free do you wanna grab a coffee?"

"I'd love to get coffee with you Kyle~" You let out a laugh, your hand coming up to cover your smile, but it was stopped by his.

The warmth of his hand beating back the chill of yours, they were softer than you thought they'd be. His thumb nervously rubs against your knuckles enjoying the way your hand felt in his, so much smaller but it fit so perfectly. Kyle smiled brightly at your response, a wave of relief washing over him and a breath he didn't know he was holding. He took the first step towards the door with you in tow, a soft glow between the both of you. Something deep inside of you felt complete, like pieces of a puzzle or links of a chain.

[lee-laurent]

Happiest With You - Cole Caufield

Summary: In which Odessa and Cole face some struggles along the way in their relationship.

wc: 1.5k

requested by: @ashes2ashesweallfall :)

contents: fluff, angst, character with hearing aids, character that is hard of hearing, kissing(?)

notes: this was a request! and i really hope i did it justice. this is like two mini fics in one! one of my younger siblings is hard of hearing, so i tried my best to use some of my real experiences to write this. enjoy! and send in more requests :))

Cole could hardly be considered a quiet person. In fact, most of his life was spent surrounded by sound. He was the first to end silence, cracking a joke or laughing when things got awkward. He was always the loudest in the room, all eyes being drawn to him. His enthusiasm for life was practically a force of nature. All in all, Cole Caufield was about as loud as they got.

Odessa Williams was the opposite. She found solace in the quiet moments in life. She appreciated the stillness of the early morning, the way the world felt as the sun began to rise. She thrived in the quiet hours of the day, the hum of bugs at night in the summer, the soft patter of rain on the window as she sat on the couch.

Cole and Odessa could not have been more different. Yet, despite the stark differences in their personalities, they found comfort in each other. Their relationship worked because of their contrasting ways of life. Cole's exburence worked in harmony with Odessa's quietude.

But their different approaches to life also brought along some issues. Issues where Odessa felt her need for quiet time wasn't being met.

Cole was sat on the sofa, laughing loudly into his headset as Jack cracked a joke. He was engrossed in his game of NHL 24 with some of the boys from his USNTDP days. The group of boys had been playing for hours, but they were just as vibrant and boisterous as they were when they started.

"Come on, come on! Pass it! Shoot!" Cole shouted, his voice echoing off the walls as his character on screen raced down the ice. His laughs filling the air again as Trevor screamed at Matt. Cheers filled the room as their team finally scored against the opposing team that was probably made up of 15-year-olds.

In the adjacent room, Odessa sat at her desk, surrounded by the quiet calm that she treasured with her whole heart. She had been working on a project for school, her hearing aids sitting on her bed in an attempt to shield her from the noise. But despite her best efforts, the sound seeped through, breaking her concentration and heightening the stress she was feeling.

She glanced at her apple watch. It was past midnight, and she could feel her frustrations bubbling over. She had tried her best to focus on her work, but the escalating noise from Cole's gaming was becoming unbearable.

Unable to concentrate any longer, Odessa stood up and walked into the living room, her patience hanging on by a thread. Cole was deeply engrossed by the game, his face flushed with excitement. His friends were animatedly discussing their plays, their voices rising and falling with excitement through his headset. Odessa's entrance, however, was enough to momentarily break Cole's concentration.

"Cole," Odessa said, her voice strained but firm as she approached him, watching as he pushed the headphones off one of his ears. At the same time, she signed, "Can you turn it down? I'm trying to work."

Cole blinked, momentarily disorientated from the abrupt shift in focus. Trying to follow her hands as she spoke. He looked up at Odessa, noticing the tightness around her eyes and the tension in her posture. He immediately felt a pang of guilt.

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe," Cole said, quickly muting his mic. "I didn't realize how late it was or how loud I was being."

"It's past midnight, Cole! How could you not realize?" Odessa's frustration spilled over, her voice rising as she signed along rapidly. "I've been trying to concentrate, and the noise is just... too much."

Cole's expression hardened slightly, struggling to keep up with her signing. "I'm sorry, Odessa. But you know this is how I unwind. It's just a game. You could've said something earlier instead of letting it build up."

"I didn't want to interrupt you," Odessa shot back, switching to just verbal speech as her signing became more agitated. "But I shouldn't have to compete with your games for some peace and quiet. I have a deadline in two days, and this is really important to me."

"And my downtime isn't important?" Cole scoffed, feeling a twinge of defensiveness. "I work hard too, you know. I need this to blow off steam."

Odessa narrowed her eyes, her frustration evident as she continued to speak to him instead of signing. "I'm not saying your downtime isn't important. But it's like you don't even notice... or care how your noise affects me! You're so wrapped up in your own little world."

Cole sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Fine. What do you want me to do? Stop gaming with my friends? Change who I am to accomodate you?"

"No," she sighed, her voice softer but still tense. She struggled to articulate her feelings through just speech, deciding to sign along. "I just want you to be more considerate. Maybe we can find a middle ground, like schedule it so we both get what we need."

Cole looked at her, the tension in the room still thick, "How about this: I'll turn it down and we can discuss a schedule tomorrow. I don't want to fight, Odessa. I just want us both to be happy, baby."

She nodded, the anger in her eyes dimmed but not gone. "Alright. But we need to seriously discuss this. I can't keep feeling like this."

He reached out and grabbed her hand, "I promise, we'll figure it out. I'm sorry for not noticing earlier."

"Thank you," Odessa nodded, her voice finally calming. "I appreciate that."

"Alright, boys. I gotta go for the night," Cole unmuted, throwing a wink his girlfriend's way. She giggled as they walked back to their room. The promise of a better balance in their future now understood. Cole hopped in the shower while Odessa continued her work, feeling a renewed sense of calm knowing they were both willing to make this work, one compromise at a time.

Although their different dynamics could sometimes create issues, there were the moments where Odessa knew that Cole was the man for her. And the movie night he planned one Friday was one of those moments.

Cole had set up the living room with comfy blankets and pillows, dimmed the lights, and prepared some of his girlfriend's favourite snacks. When Odessa entered the room after her shower, she was greeted by the warm lighting and her boyfriend laying on the couch.

"Hey, baby. I thought we could have a little movie night. I know you've been stressed with school," Cole said, signing the words along with speaking them. Odessa's eyes lit up, appreciating the effort he had put into learning her second language.

She settled onto the couch with him, and Cole handed her the remote. "You get to pick the movie tonight." Odessa chose her favourite move, Jaws, knowing that it had subtitles. She adjusted her hearing aids, ensuring they were comfortable, but knowing she could rely on the subititles if needed.

As the movie started, Cole double-checked that 'English CC' was selected. Throughout the movie, they shared the large bowl of popcorn that the boy had made. Laughing at the horrible special effects and overall just enjoying their time together. Cole squeezed her hand as another shark attack happened, their little touch-based communication conveying his joy.

During a quieter moment in the film, Cole turned to Odessa. He tapped her shoulder lightly, their agreed signal for wanting her attention. "I've been practicing my sign language," he said, signing slowly, "I want to show your family that I'm all in."

Odessa's heart swelled at the confession, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. She responded in sign, "That means a lot to me. Thank you."

Cole grinned so much it was starting to hurt, "How about we practice some?" Odessa nodded enthusiastically. They paused the movie periodically, practicing new words that would show up in the subtitles. Laughing at Cole's mistakes and cheering when he got it right.

At one point, Odessa leaned over and traced a heart on Cole's palm, their special way of saying "I love you" without words. Cole blushed and traced one back on her hand.

As the night progressed, Odessa felt even more connected to Cole. Even more in love with him... if that was possible. The combination of the movie, Cole's efforts to learn sign language, and their special little touches they used to communicate made her feel like they were the only people in the whole world.

"You're getting really good at signing."

"I have the best teacher around," he teased, tracing another heart on her hand.

They sat in silence for a bit, the glow of the TV filling the room. Cole could feel Odessa's breathing slowing as she relaxed against him. He kissed the top of her head, feeling the same way that Odessa had moments before.

Cole carried her back to their room, helping her remove her hearing aids. He plugged them in, giving her one last kiss before climbing into bed next to her. They exchanged tired smiles and with one last squeeze of their hands, Odessa knew that this was the man for her.

[carlsdarling]

We need a 3 of no mercy please I beg of you

No Mercy Part III

Many requests for this 😊 The love-hate-story between Carl and Negan's daughter continues... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, angst, abortion theme, unprotected sex

You had been back in the sanctuary for a few weeks now. After your period failed to start and the nausea continued, you panicked and took a count. Your periods had never been regular, but now you came to the conclusion that you hadn't bled in at least eight or nine weeks. The last time you had bled was before you had slept with Carl for the first time, that time behind the horse stables. Anyone who wasn't completely naive could have figured it out sooner: You were pregnant. You sat in your room and sobbed desperately. Under no circumstances must your father find out about it.

No, you could not have this baby. There was not even a doctor in the sanctuary since your father had burned the last one alive. In your distress, you sought out Amber, who - at least that was your assumption - knew about such things. "Amber, I'm pregnant," you said straightforwardly.

She looked at you with widened eyes. "It's not really true, is it? You're kidding."

"No, it's true." You burst into tears.

Amber quickly locked the door to her room. "Okay, and who's it from?"

"It's Carl's. Carl Grimes," you confessed, embarrassed.

"What!" exclaimed Amber in horror. "Oh my god, Y/N. Negan is going to flay you and Carl alive."

"He mustn't know, Amber, I can't have this baby!" Full of panic, you clutched her thin wrist. "What can I do?"

"How do you feel about Carl?" inquired Amber sympathetically. "Was it just a one-night stand, or...?"

It took you a long time to answer. "No, it was... more. I hated him like hell in the beginning," you said pensively. "We still had sex on and off, and it was great. But then... Carl is... he's so special. I think maybe I've grown to like him. A little bit, at least." Sheepishly, you played with the bed covers. "But it's not mutual, unfortunately," you then added sadly.

"Too bad," was all Amber said, "Carl's got guts, and he's handsome, too. It was very brave of him to break into the Sanctuary back then. He'll make a good leader someday." You had never thought of it that way - to you, Carl's action had just been stupid and careless. Now you realized that Amber was right and how courageous Carl was; even all the other times he had rebelled against Negan, even though Negan was much older and stronger than Carl was. He had never let your father intimidate him. Not even when Negan wanted Rick to cut off his arm. "Didn't you use any protection?"

"Well, sometimes not," you evaded, hiding from her that Carl's breeding kink had been part of your mutual attraction. You yourself had loved the feeling of him lavishly spilling his seed into you, and now you were receiving the reward. Somehow you had assumed that nothing would happen. Which had been stupid, of course.

„How long is it since your last period?“

"More than two months," you mumbled.

Amber took a deep breath. "That's too late for the morning-after pill. Way too late."

Frantically, you considered, "What other options are there?"

"Without a doctor? Hardly any, unless you want to die trying to get an abortion," Amber clarified to you relentlessly.

You cried again. "But there must be something! Herbs, something! Wait." An idea had occurred to you. You walked over to Amber's closet and pulled out a wire coathanger. "I saw this in a movie once. You have to help me."

"No, Y/N. Oh no. Forget it," Amber fought back. "You're going to bleed to death, and it's my fault."

"Like you just said, Amber. My father is going to kill me. Please," you pleaded.

She relented against her knowledge. "All right, same time tomorrow, here. Katya will be back soon. And I can't promise you it'll work, and it'll be painful as fuck." You nodded in embarrassment and fear. The danger of dying during an amateurishly performed abortion was real.

                                                           ***

You went back to your room and wept. You didn't want to abort Carl's baby, that was the truth. You constantly saw Carl's cute face in front of you, heard his mocking remarks, felt his hot breath on your skin. You were dreaming of him. You were longing for him. You might as well admit it to yourself: You loved Carl Grimes, and you missed him sorely. And now you were carrying his child, and that couldn't be. You'd probably never see each other again, and either way Carl wouldn't want a baby with you, let alone a relationship.

But everything turned out differently than planned. When you went to dress yourself the next morning, your father burst into your room without knocking as you stood there in your underwear. Horrified, you stared at him, unable to cover yourself. Negan's gaze immediately captured your swollen breasts and ever so slightly bulging belly. His eyebrows rose, then he averted his eyes in bewilderment. "Come to my office immediately when you are dressed," he ordered expressionlessly.

You were standing in front of him with a palpitating heart. "Whose is it?" he demanded to know harshly. "It can only have happened in Alexandria, you are already starting to show, and you were vomiting on the ride over here." Angrily, he marched back and forth.

"It... it's from Carl," you said in a low voice.

Your father eyed you, stunned. "Please what?" he then shouted. "You were spreading your legs for the future serial killer? Unbelievable," he laughed bitterly.

"No, it wasn't like that, it..."

"What do you mean? Did he rape you?" he asked lurkingly.

"No!" you said firmly. If Negan believed that, he wouldn't rest until he had killed Carl. "No. It was... consensual." Your face reddened.

„Fuck it“, Negan ruffled his hair, perplexed. "Get your bag and come along," he then ordered, grabbing your arm and dragging you outside. There he gestured for you to get in the car.

"But what..." you started.

"We're driving to Alexandria," Negan announced grimly. "Let's see what fucking Carl Grimes has to say about this. And Rick, under whose roof you've been living." The ride passed in silence, except that once again you felt nauseous. You were tense and anxious, unable to gauge what your father was up to and how things would proceed. Finally, the Alexandria gate appeared in front of you; the guards immediately got into position when they recognized Negan. He got out and raised his hands in the air. "I want to talk to Rick," he demanded. "You see, I'm not armed." It wasn't long before Rosita and Daryl escorted you both to Rick's house. You hadn't seen Carl in so long, your heart pounded excitedly and somehow you felt an anxious anticipation mixed with fear.

Rick gazed open-mouthed at you and asked you into the kitchen in a reserved manner. "I thought we had everything settled for now," he said icily to Negan. "So why are you stalking us again?"

"Well, it's not my fault," Negan replied aggressively. At that moment, Carl entered the kitchen, closely followed by Enid. They held hands, and you quickly looked down at the floor. You never thought it would hurt so much, although you should have expected him to find another girl. He probably loved Enid - he had never loved you. Carl looked from one to the other in surprise.

"I don't understand," Rick said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Well, it's about Y/N and Carl," Negan replied with a cutting tone. "I assumed Y/N was safe under your roof! You personally guaranteed her safety!“

Rick began to look more and more confused. To him, you seemed to be in good health; a little pale, perhaps. "Enid, go home. Carl, you stay here," he then ordered in a bossy voice. Enid kissed Carl goodbye and disappeared with her head down. "Now speak up," he then turned to Negan. "Will you stop talking in riddles?" You and Carl exchanged a cautious, uncertain look.

"These two here got it going!" accused Negan at him. "Carl fucked my daughter. In your house, Rick! Don't tell me you didn't notice!"

Rick was scratching his head, perplexed and surprised. "I actually didn't, you'll have to take my word for that, Negan," he then muttered. "I just noticed that they liked each other - even if they denied it. But what the hell, they're teenagers, it's only normal for them to engage in sexual experiences, you can't help it, and..."

"Y/N is pregnant!" yelled Negan. "Your scumbag of a son made her a baby!"

Now Rick was left speechless, and Carl looked completely shocked, while you started crying miserably. No one wanted this baby but you, and everyone saw you and the pregnancy as a problem, an inconvenience. Rick grabbed Carl's wrist. "Carl! Is this true?" he asked sharply.

Carl widened his eye, overwhelmed. "I, uhm, well... it's true, we had sex." His cheeks were bright red with bashfulness.

"And did you use protection, yes or no?" barked Rick angrily, while Negan watched the whole thing with his eyebrows furrowed.

Meanwhile, Michonne entered the kitchen. "What's going on?" she wanted to know in wonder. "What's he doing here?" Accusingly, she pointed at Negan.

Rick paid no attention to her, he focused on Carl. "Yes or no, Carl?" he insisted.

"No," the latter admitted sheepishly, looking down at his shoes.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rick groaned, letting go of Carl and sinking into a chair, cradling his face in his hands. "Carl and Y/N slept with each other without using protection, and now Y/N is pregnant," he informed Michonne. "Carl, are you fucking nuts?" he then hissed in anger. "We did give you the talk on time, didn't we?"

"Now don't all pick on Carl," you timidly spoke up. "It's just as much my fault."

"Yes, indeed, it is!" your father snapped at you. "Are you too dumb to know about condoms?"

"I didn't think you'd be so irresponsible and stupid," Rick stated, shaking his head, looking at you and Carl in disbelief.

"Stop arguing now," Michonne intervened. "That's pointless. What's more important is how to proceed. How far along are you, Y/N?"

"I don't know," you said shyly. "Maybe by the tenth week?"

"We could ask Denise if abortion is still an option," Rick reasoned.

"And take the risk that Y/N won't survive it? Your Denise is not a surgeon," Negan objected. Carl remained silent.

"Y/N, what do you want? And Carl, what do you say?" Michonne looked from one to the other. "You both made this baby, after all."

"I... would it be possible for me to talk to Y/N alone?" asked Carl hesitantly. Your hands grew sweaty with stress.

Rick and Negan looked at each other. "Alright," Negan then conceded suspiciously. "But only where I can keep an eye on you guys."

The two of you went outside and stopped in front of each other not far from the kitchen window. "Ummm... so you're pregnant," Carl noted uneasily, nibbling his fingernails. So now was the time he would tell you that he felt nothing for you - nothing positive, anyway - that his heart belonged to Enid and he wanted nothing to do with the baby.

You tried not to cry as you said, "Yes. And before you start doubting it, yes, it's yours, Carl!" you added, hurt. "I have not been with anybody else but you."

He looked at you in amazement. "I know," he said, touching your cheek lightly. "I... I thought about you a lot when you were gone," he then explained, suddenly looking deep into your eyes. "Y/N, I know you don't feel the same way, but I missed you," he said softly.

"And... and Enid?" you asked in a squeaky voice.

Carl sighed. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said unhappily. "Enid's awesome, but... I simply can't forget you."

"Carl, I like you," you blurted out, starting to sob after all. "I like you a lot, in fact."

He smiled delightedly. Carefully, he took your hands. "Could you imagine being with me? That we'd have the baby together?" You nodded tearfully. "Then come on, we'll tell them."

"You guys want to do what?" exclaimed Rick.

"We want to be together," Carl confirmed. "In fact, we like each other. I'm going to break up with Enid, and I'm going to take care of my kid."

Michonne, Rick and Negan looked at each other, wordless and baffled. Negan was the first to regain his composure. "All right, you're both coming with me to the Sanctuary then," he decided.

"That's out of the question," Rick immediately objected.

"We don't even have a doctor," you said reproachfully to your father. "And I want to stay here with Carl." Negan shook his head stubbornly. "We're not coming with you," you said petulantly.

"Y/N needs medical attention," Michonne pointed out.

Negan pondered. "All right," he finally relented. "Actually, I don't want the future serial killer in Sanctuary either," he growled with a sideways glance at Carl, who was nervously fiddling with his flannel shirt. "He's just stirring everyone up. But for now, just until Y/N gives birth. Then we'll see." Carl and you fell into each other's arms relieved.

                                                           **

Later in Carl's room, you finally gave in to your desire for each other and embraced. Carl stared raptly at the tiny bulge of your belly. "It's hard to believe you're really pregnant by me," he said astounded, touching your belly.

"Did you fuck Enid?" you wanted to know. The thought of it hurted you.

"Let's not talk about Enid," Carl dodged the question and kissed you again. "I'll talk to her first thing tomorrow. I hope she understands."

And I hope it doesn't turn out that Enid is also expecting now, you thought darkly.

"Carl, if... if we have sex now like we always do, it could harm the baby," you remarked fearfully.

He gave you a naughty grin. "Also, even though we're both into hard sex, we can do it gently for a while," he suggested. You kissed and moved to the bed, where you slowly undressed and caressed each other. Carl looked at you lovingly. "I've missed you so much," he whispered, as he lay carefully on top of you.

You couldn't wait to feel him inside you. "I missed you too," you said, spreading your legs for him. „I want you so badly, Carl.“

"Yeah, I can tell," Carl teased you, "You're soaking my entire bed right now." He propped himself up on his elbows and tenderly penetrated you, looking deep into your eyes while slowly pounding in you.

You arched your back in delight as he eagerly thrusted into you. "Oh, Carl," you breathed into his ear. "It's so good." Carl looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, all slick with your moisture and his precum. It was an incredibly arousing sight. He unfolded your labia with his index finger and changed his position slightly, so that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, driving you completely insane. "Carl," you whimpered, kissing his neck and ear. "Faster, please," you gasped, and Carl increased his pace until he was ramming his cock into you fiercely and you cried out as you cum and reared up under him, wrapping your legs around him.

Carl gave you two more orgasms so that you were just a quivering, begging mess, then he moaned loudly. "I'm cumming," he sighed, and his cum filled you warmly, there was so much that it immediately leaked out of you again, staining the already wet and sticky sheets.

You lay together relaxing and stroking each other. Carl's heart was beating a fast rhythm, and you remembered the day when you feared he was dead. "I was really afraid then that you were dead or turned," you said softly. "I couldn't have stand it."

"And I thought you really hated me and didn't reciprocrate my feelings," he admitted. "Yet I was already in love with you. I couldn't admit it, though." He smiled wryly.

"Carl?" you asked after a while, as you lay snuggled together, enjoying your intimacy and being so close to each other.

"Huh?" he replied sleepily.

"May I see your eye?"

He sat up, suddenly appearing to be tense. "Um... why?" he hesitated.

"Well, now that we live together and everything... you don't have to hide it from me anymore," you said softly. „It's certainly not good for the scar if you keep it bandaged at night, just because you're shy in front of me.“

With shaky fingers, Carl fiddled with the bandage, then dropped his hands again. "Y/N? Please, don't say anything spiteful about it," he pleaded. "Whether you really mean it or not, I don't care. Just don't do it." You had never before seen Carl so vulnerable. "I know it looks gross."

You hugged him tightly; you wanted him to feel safe with you. "Carl, it doesn't matter. I don't care what it looks like. It’s ok." He precariously took off the bandage without glancing at you. Well, it wasn't the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, but it was part of him, and you didn't mind. You would soon get used to the sight, and then it would just be normal. Not beautiful, not hideous, just normal.

"It... it looks nasty, doesn't it?" he asked anxiously.

"It does look bad ass," you said honestly. "But seriously, I don't give a fuck, and I don't think it's ugly. I love you, Carl.“ You pressed your smooth cheek against his right, maimed one.

He hugged you back with relief. "I love you too, Y/N." His lips touched yours.

___

Taglist:

@genshinsbiggestsimp

[cybrsan]

hi new follower here! I've read your stuff on AO3 but I didn't know that you post here too. for the prompt list, I'd like to request # 93 and # 123 for smut with whiny, petty hongjoong. he doesn't have to be a sub but he's very hornknee and touch-starved 👀 I'd love to see your take on it. thanks if you write this 🫶

Omg, I'm so touched! Thank you so much for supporting me both here and on AO3. Also, I absolutely loved writing this request—needy Hongjoong is everything to me. I did mix in a little bit of angst for the scenario to play out but I hope you don't mind and enjoy it anyway!

Prompts:  93. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.” + 123. “Fuck you.” “When?” Pairing: Hongjoong x F!Reader Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut Word Count: 1.1k Tags/warnings: Miscommunication, clothed sex, sex as a coping mechanism (kinda)

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

When you finally feel Hongjoong slip into bed next to you, it must be in the early hours of the morning, considering that you had gone to sleep a little past midnight. You stayed up as long as you could, waiting for him to get back from the studio so that you could catch up on the new episodes of the drama the two of you have been watching together. It’s something you don’t have time to do often due to his hectic schedule, and he had promised to come home early and make it a date.

You always try to be understanding of his schedule, understanding that the time you do have with him is borrowed and can be quickly taken away if something work-related comes up. You would never insist that he put you first, knowing just how passionate he is about music. Seeing the way his eyes light up when he talks about it or the way he seems to radiate pure, unbridled joy when he is on stage is a gift in and of itself. You love his love for it all. 

But, really, is a text too much to ask for? Or a phone call to let you know he’ll be late, that something has come up? You almost say something, but then he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you close. You settle into his embrace, sighing contentedly. You may be upset with him, but you can discuss it in the morning.

You almost fall back asleep when you feel Hongjoong’s lips on your shoulder, and his fingers find their way under your shirt, ghosting over your stomach. He slots his hips against yours, and you can feel his half-hard cock pressing against you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say, looking over your shoulder at him in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Hongjoong says, kissing you gently. “I tried to make it home early, but I got carried away.”

“And now you want to wake me up so that you can get off?”

“Please, I need you. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You groan and shut your eyes, turning away from him. “Fuck you, Hongjoong.”

“When?” 

You almost laugh but stop yourself, not wanting to give up the facade of your annoyance. “Take care of yourself. I’m going back to bed.”

“Baby,” he whines, rocking his hips against you. “Don’t do this to me.” 

“Take care of yourself,” you repeat, except this time, you thrust yourself back against him. 

Hongjoong groans and, spurred on by your words, begins to rut against you. He buries his face in your hair as his hands move over your body, exploring every inch of you that he can reach. He tugs you closer by the hip, allowing you to feel the hard outline of his cock against your ass with every movement. Even separated by your clothes, you can feel the heat of him, his need palpable even like this. 

He gradually increases his tempo, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. He pants against your neck, hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin. Having him use you to get himself off like this feels so erotic, and you’re surprised by how turned on it’s making you when you haven’t even been touched. Without even realizing, you have begun to move back against him, meeting his every thrust. As if Hongjoong can sense your need, he moves his hand from your hip and dips his fingers below the waistband of your panties. 

“Want you to come with me,” he moans, breathless.   

He circles around your clit, teasing it gently as he continues to move against you. You can feel him trembling with effort, trying to prolong his own orgasm until you get close to the edge. His fingers move against you expertly, instantly finding the spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You moan, white-knuckling the bedsheets as pleasure tears through you.   

He moves faster now, thrusting against you in time with his fingers as he takes you closer and closer to the brink. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you are for him, how lucky he is to have someone like you. His words and his touch prove too much for you, heat coiling in your gut, and you come around his fingers with a gasp.  

He groans as he soon follows you, his entire body shuddering against yours as he comes. He slows to a stop, holding you close against his chest as your breathing returns to normal. He continues to whisper words of love into your ear, pressing kisses into your skin to punctuate each sentence. 

Eventually, he murmurs a soft apology. “I really am sorry for not showing up. I should have been more considerate.”

You turn to face him, kissing him sweetly. “Joong, it’s alright. I just wish you would have let me know so I wasn’t waiting around all night. It didn’t feel great.”

“I know, baby, I’m so sorry.” He frowns, looking so guilty and upset that you almost feel the urge to comfort him even though you know he’s the one in the wrong. “Do you feel used?” 

His question takes you off guard, and you can’t control the shock on your face. “What? Why would you ask me that?” 

“I don’t know…” he lets his sentence trail off, trying to find a way to articulate his thoughts. “I missed our date and then came home and acted so selfishly, wanting you even when you weren’t in the mood. I don’t want you to think that all I care about is your body or that I don’t value your time because that couldn’t be any further from the truth.” 

“Hey,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his waist. “If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have initiated. You have never made me do anything against my will. I love you, Joong. You should know by now that all you ever have to do is say you want me, and I’m yours. Even if it’s early in the morning, and I’m grumpy and half-asleep.” 

He beams at you, moving forward to pepper your face in kisses. “I love you so much. How did I get so lucky?” 

You laugh and jokingly push him away, trying to escape his overzealous show of affection. “I love you too. Now hurry up and change so we can cuddle and go to sleep.”  

He quickly obliges, and after changing into a fresh pair of boxers, he crawls back into bed and pulls you close. You practically melt into his embrace, an overwhelming sense of comfort washing over you. For the second time tonight, Hongjoong buries his head in your hair, taking in the scent of you as his breathing slowly evens out. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to drift off into a peaceful slumber, content in each other’s embrace.