#im raising a glass of water

[applefoam]

praise be lord dionysus androgynos, god of homosexuality and effeminacy, may he protect his queer children and adults alike! I am forever grateful, raise a glass to him and his wonder!

[parfaitblogs]

false god ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer (literally) cannot wait to show you how pretty he thinks you are tonight. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: established relationship. public stuff. fingering. the team is there. readers wearing a skirt. he looooves you. they're at a bar. kinda soft dom!spence but like only if you squint. i have never posted smut before if im missing tags tell meee word count: 1.9k a/n: biting the bullet. posting smut (shudders). i have a singular roman empire and it is spencer reid plus fingering. i think about it sooo often. i do not think he would be the type to actually do this in public so yes it is self indulgent yes u can all call me crazy!! idgaf!!! i feel like the pacing in this is kinda weird pls forgive i never write smut :< if it's bad don't tell me let me be blissfully ignorant thank YEW!!

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with him (Spencer Reid). Something fundamentally broken in his brain, because he had not said a word to you that made sense from the second he picked you up from your apartment that evening. 

A lot of 'mhm's' and 'yeah's', which from maybe any other man would be normal, was not from him. He didn't speak incredibly eloquently, per se. But he did always respond to you in sentences. He liked to talk, so this lack of it was concerning you. 

He was seated next to you, in the booth Penelope Garcia had scouted out the second she stepped foot into the bar you were all meeting at. It was supposed to be a simple evening. Some drinks, some talking, winding down after the awful case you had just come back from. Spencer's lack of talking had you feeling anything but (simple). 

"Are you okay?" you had asked him when half the team stood up to go purchase the second round of drinks for everyone, and he wordlessly nodded his head, staring at the glass of water on the table in front of him, condensation sweating down to the wood. 

He wasn't. But there was only so much you could do for him when he was shutting down, especially in a public setting, so you nodded your own head, and settled into conversation with JJ instead. 

His hand found your thigh at some point during the conversation, and while you had flinched at its first contact, you didn't think much of it — he was never one for huge displays of affection, but he loved having his hands on you. An act as simple as a hand on your back had you swooning now, because you knew in his mind, he was thinking everything there was to possibly think about you. 

What you did think much of, was the way it crept higher as the team returned with drinks, and the noise from your booth got louder as conversations clashed with each other. 

Your head turned to the side, eyebrows furrowing, but he was still staring at his half-drank glass of water, with no real expression on his face. Frustratingly so.

He was never cruel, you learned. It was why his next action didn't occur until you had finished your sentence to JJ, as if to prevent what would've been your vocal chords tightening and lifting the octave of your voice as you spoke. 

It was such a featherlike touch it was hardly there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't do it again. And again. And again. One of his fingers brushing delicately over the centre of your underwear in a quick swiping motion, that had your head snapping to the side, meeting his jawline and his unwavering gaze with his glass of water. 

"Spencer," you muttered, and it was only then did he tilt his head down to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

His hand wrapped around the side of your inner thigh and tugged you across the seat, closer to him, his head ducking down to speak. 

"You're really pretty," he murmured, and your eyebrows only furrowed further at that.

"Thank you," you decided to say. "But what are you doing?"

"I just wanna touch you. Is that okay?"

You were silent for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because he was already pulling his hand off your thigh, nodding his head.

"I mean, yes," you quickly say, catching his wrist before it could stray too far. "I was just confused where this was coming from."

"I really like the skirt," he explained, and your lips parted and an amused huff of air left them. Of course.

"Me too."

"Need you to wear it more often," he then said, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. "Please?"

"Maybe," you said, because it was all you could say, considering he was moving things along a little bit faster now that you had consented (not that you think you would've denied it). 

His ministrations were small enough that you could keep your voice steady as you kept conversation going with JJ, but firm enough that you squirmed every thirty seconds. He, on the other hand, was acting as though he was doing nothing to you, engaged in a conversation about the origins of pasta, with David Rossi. 

"I mean, in Greek mythology, it suggests that the Greek god Vulcan invented a device that made strings of dough. Which could be classified as the first spaghetti," he said, and at the same time, his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, brushing over your embarrassingly wet folds. 

You watched him stiffen, only because you had killed your conversation with JJ with one too many 'uh-huh's', and his jaw locked.

You were merely observant as he circled your clit a few times, until you were picking up your drink and forcing yourself to sip on it in order to keep your mouth busy — instead of releasing a moan that you really didn't want the team to hear. 

His gaze flicked to you for only half a second, and you met his eyes with an embarrassingly desperate look, and he laughed, oh so quietly, before a finger slipped into you. 

It was so gentle you thought you would go insane, and he rested the finger there for a few seconds as he responded to an argument Rossi had made about the Italian's inventing bolognese or whatever. You weren't really listening. 

The internal war you were dealing with; a pool of fiery butterflies in your stomach and the constant screaming to stay quiet in your brain was a stark contrast to Spencer's relaxed state. Because he had lazily began to move his finger like it was Sunday morning and he was easing you awake, and not in the middle of a Virginia bar with conversations amongst the team happening around you. 

You hated him for that.

Your hips squirmed when he crooked his finger, and your free hand bolted to his wrist, holding his hand still just before he could do it again, and elicit a sound from you.

The second Rossi had become immersed in something Morgan had said, Spencer's gaze was returning to you, an amused smile stretched across his lips. 

"You okay, honey?" he murmured, ducking his face down to kiss your cheek, heat blossoming on the spot. 

"I am trying so hard not to make a noise," you said, and he smiled, and you could feel it against your skin, wonderfully so.

"And you're doing an excellent job of it."

"You know, if you just took me to the bathroom..." you trailed off, eyes flickering up to him. 

"Not happening. Do you know how many germs are in public bathrooms?"

"Probably as many as the seat you're currently fingering me on," you hissed, voice hushed. 

At that, he pushed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you choked out a mewl. 

"I can stop," he said, though it didn't come out as a warning. You knew he only offered it because he would get the reaction of you violently shaking your head. "Right. No bathroom."

"No bathroom," you agreed with a flip of your stomach. 

His attention was captured by a conversation again, and with it, his finger began moving again. He was moving it with such an expertise that if this was any other situation you'd be impressed. Unfortunately, you were a little preoccupied with trying not to make a sound to appreciate how well he knew your body. 

Lazy pumps of his finger had you reeling and he was hardly doing anything, which was definitely going to be embarrassing to think about later on when he brings this up. Like you knew he would. 

Your A+ streak of making no noise was interrupted — quite rudely — by him slipping another finger in, the uncomfortable stretch that only lasted a second eliciting a whimper you couldn't keep to yourself. His eyebrows shot up and you were thankful Rossi had not been looking at him when his gaze rested on you again, and that the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out the sound to anyone who wasn't listening for it. 

"Too much?" he asked, but the second you felt him slowly pulling that second finger back, you were shaking your head, nails digging into the wrist that you still had captured. 

"No. It's not. Promise."

He smiled, and wordlessly nodded his head as he allowed the finger to straighten inside of you. Then, he moved them in and out of you a few times, achingly slowly. 

"Spencer," you breathed out, frustrated. 

"Yes, angel?"

"Can you please... just... go faster," you bit out, heat flushing your cheeks. Again.

"That would make it obvious," he answered, and you let out a huff of air. You knew he was right. "But," he added, upon detecting your annoyance. "I can do this."

He was once again proving how well he knew your body, because his thumb so easily found your clit, and circled it in a way that shot sparks up through your body.

"Yes you can," you agreed, nodding your head eagerly, and he breathed out a chuckle.

It seemed to be a lot easier to do that fast enough and hide what he was doing to you at the same time, because his fingers bent upwards at the same time he flicked his thumb over your clit, and whatever self-control you thought you had was swindled.

Your teeth bit down on the disintegrating paper straw, just to stop the moan that caught in the base of your throat from leaving it, and at that, he did it again. 

Spencer Reid was good at a lot of things. Making you come from the lightest of touches seemed to be joining that long list. Your head buried itself into the forearm of the hand that was touching you, at the same time he used it to push your hips back into the seat when they had begun to lift upwards. 

"You're making it obvious," he said to you, and what you're sure would've been a wonderfully eloquent argument died in your throat when he flicked your clit again. 

"I can't," you managed to get out, shaking your head as your fingers dug perhaps a little too hard into his wrist. 

"No?" he mused, though didn't stop his movements. You shook your head. He smiled. "So you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Mm, you're conflicting yourself, angel," he said, and you groaned for more than just how he was making you feel because you knew that. 

You bit down on his arm through his shirt to silence another moan when he pushed his fingers in a little harder than before, and if it hurt, he didn't say anything. You decided it must not have, because he repeated that movement. 

You were fighting against the need to squirm as your stomach tightened. And he must've figured out what was happening, because he masked your incandescent need to moan by using his opposite hand to entangle within your hair, bringing your face into his chest, acting as a hug to anyone who could see you. 

"There you go," he murmured, awfully gently, in your ear, as your walls fluttered around his fingers. 

You weren't sure if you were imagining your hips jerking until he was slipping his fingers out of you and pushing them down into the seat again.

He wiped his fingers against his pants, and your lips parted, eyes staring at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?" 

You shook your head, regaining a little self control as you settled down. "Nothing. I'm wearing this skirt again, though."

"Good."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[rafeandonlyrafe]

angel of a daughter

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)

“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.” “i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.

your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.

“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?” 

you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.

“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”

“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.” 

you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.

“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.

“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”

“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”

“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”

“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”

“and you’re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.

“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.

“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”

“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”

“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.

“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.

“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”

he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.

you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”

“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.

“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.

“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby. 

rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.

“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.

“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close. 

“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.

“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”

“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.

“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up. 

“y-yeah.” you nod. 

rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure. 

rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.

“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.

“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.

“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.

“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.

your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.

“never!” you shake your head.

rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.

“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.

“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”

rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.

“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.

“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.” “yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”

“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.

“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.

“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”

you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.

he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands. 

rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.

“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.

“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”

he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.

“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.

“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.

“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.

“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”

rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”

“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”

rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.

“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.

“want it so bad.” you whine. 

“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”

you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.

“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.

“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.

“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.

rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”

you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!” “oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”

“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , alcohol consumption , inebriation , sexual harassment , violence , vomit

୨୧˚ an; i love nami kempo (dis shit like 4k werdssss) ALSO i’ve been getting comments that my tag list isn’t working for me dumb someone help me pls tell me what im doing wrong

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

“Why am I here?” Nanami thinks out loud, glaring pointedly around the unlit dive bar. It’s unglamorous, walls garbed in eclectic music paraphernalia, references that go right past him. Flurries of reds and yellows and oranges in the decor cut brightly, shining through the dim atmosphere. Seriously, would it kill them to switch a light on? It bustles with life; university kids, Nanami is subjected to think based on the… unique fashion sense present in the room. Street wear, torn jeans, crop tops way too short to be considered shirts anymore. He cringes, feeling entirely too dated to be hanging amongst this kind of crowd. His leg bounces restlessly under the ledge of the bar, and he turns to look at you. “Why are we here?”

You’re smiling—actually smiling—flagging down the bartender. “You knew we were coming to a bar,” you cut yourself short, holding up a single finger to him whilst you relayed your order to the older gentleman behind the bar. A rum and coke, you asked politely before glancing toward Nanami. It took a moment for him to realize what that look meant. 

“I’ll have scotch, neat. Thanks.”

“As I was saying,” you steal back his attention, “I made it clear we were coming to a bar. What’s the problem?”

There was a hint of an attitude catching at your words, and Nanami felt his brow twitch in frustration. “You failed to tell me that we’d be in…” He grimaces, peeking back over his shoulder to the sea of youthful patrons slinging over nearly every stool and booth. “ . . . Mixed company.” God awful pop music fizzles through the speakers, twisting and crackling with pops of static; fuel to the billowing flames of Nanami’s overstimulation. “I was expecting something a bit more sophisticated.”

“I can tell,” you’re laughing as you give him a once over, and he gets a shiver of Deja Vu from the coffee shop where you pulled the same exact move. You tweeze at the expensive cotton button down, plucking the bunched fabric of a sleeve at the crease of his elbow. “Thought we said no more fancy clothes?”

Tonight he threw together a plain white shirt and a pair of slim fit khaki pants; the quintessential dad outfit, sure, but fancy? Nanami didn’t think so. “I’m dressed down.”

“Nixing the suit jacket and tie didn’t do much. You still look stiff, man.” Two glasses are brought over, one placed before either of you respectively. Nanami stares down into the glass, a foggy, brown abyss. His alcohol looks watered down and piss cheap. “You stick out, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Oh please, you’re too kind.” Nanami rolls his eyes, hunching over the bar and downing a swig from the scotch. Yeah, It was definitely watered down. Fuck this place. 

Your hand slaps his back. “So dramatic. I was kidding Nanami, you look fine.” A cheeky laugh reaches his ears before you tack on, “very handsome.” 

Now he knows you’re messing with him. 

You grin into your cup. “Stop sulking. It’s not so bad here.” Nanami would beg to differ. A debate that isn’t worth having because frankly, it’s a Saturday night and he doesn’t have nearly enough energy to draft a list of all the cons that this joint has to offer. “We got booze,” you raise your glass. “Booze makes everything better.”

His forehead wrinkles. “That’s a horrible mindset to have, Y/n.”

Your boisterous laugh outweighs the ambient chatter, and you take a hearty gulp. Nanami follows suit, albeit a bit awkwardly, tipping more spirits down his throat. You look surprisingly comfortable, slinking against the bar counter with a hazy smile that welcomes strangers in. This time, you weren’t wearing a flowery dress; instead, a low cut shirt and jeans, both equal parts dark and tight. The neckline plummeted deep, exposing slivers of your bra cups and entirely too much cleavage. By God, was his self restraint something to write home about. 

It was easy to fall into comfortable conversation. All in all, Nanami enjoys talking to you now, even if once upon a time the thought of engaging with you evoked such dread that he’d outwardly avoid your presence around the office. Passing along orders specifically meant for you to other colleagues and entrusting them to deliver the message, lengthening the conveyor belt of relation simply because you got him in a tizzy. Back then, all Nanami could see when he looked at you was that cowardly girl in the bathroom with smeared lipstick and a trembling pout. How shameful, he thinks, that it took him this long to see past that terrible first impression. 

“So there I was, balancing ten cups of coffee, shaking like a little bitch,” you laughed as you shared an anecdote from an internship in your university years. Nanami listened intently, head propped up on his fist as he watched your theatrics. Your cheeks flushed with the evidence of alcohol, eyes lidded, smile wobbly. Nanami was feeling the edge of his buzz coming on too, an amazing revelation considering the diluted alcohol this place served. “And I’m walking up ten flights of stairs–”

“Ten flights?” He gawks, feeling looser and matching you with melodrama. “What, did your office not have an elevator?”

You laughed. “It was out of order.”

“Your luck astounds me.”

You flip him off playfully. “I finally get to the last stair and my heel catches on the floor and I eat total shit in front of the entire room!” Nanami can’t stop his own tittering, cupping a palm over his grin. “Spilled the coffee everywhere, twisted my ankle, too. I probably laid in that puddle for ten minutes.”

“That’s why you don’t wear high heels anymore?”

There’s a grimace on your face when you nod, topping off the rest of your glass. “Mm.”

Nanami swaps his own story, of a time when he was in his third year of college and his work laptop got stolen. “I think I cried,” and you guffawed at his misery. “I’m serious, I really think I cried. Alone, on the floor of my dormitory. It was finals week, and I had written my dissertation on that laptop.”

“So what did you do?”

“I pulled an all-nighter in the library on campus and rewrote my entire thesis.” Merely remembering that chaotically stressful night had Nanami huffing a sigh of anguish and dragging an exasperated hand down his face. 

The bartender slides you another drink. Gosh, he was lagging behind. “I would’ve dropped out.” You spoke over the rim of the glass.

“Trust me, I was really close.” Nanami’s eyes narrow, gaging the swell of your throat as you knock back a few swigs. “How many have you had?” 

“A few.” Your answer was blunt, and from that Nanami could gather that his question had rendered you the slightest bit irritated. He understood why; you were a grown woman, who was he to regulate how many rounds you decide to have? But even with this understanding, the man couldn’t shake his concern. “More than you, old timer. Keep up.”

He shakes his head, scratching at his cheek. “This is my last for the night.” Any more, and Nanami would wake up the next morning nauseous with a pounding headache. He took precautions to avoid breaching his limits, he really disliked that hungover feeling. 

You gawk at the declaration. “How lame.” Then you hiccup.

“You can call me lame now, but which one of us will wake up tomorrow not in pain?”

You wave a hand through the air, brushing off his very astute observation. “Hush, that’s for future me to deal with. Present me doesn’t have a care in the world.”

You’re immature, but it’s amusing, so he doesn’t offer any rebuttals. The way you are so insistent on living in the moment is fascinating, almost inspiring even. Nanami feels as though he’s ever crushed by the impending future, always so concerned with what the next day, next week, next month, next year brings. He thinks ahead to a fault, and because of that, forgets to enjoy the little things. But you always stop and smell the roses. It’s admirable. 

“Bartender!” You wag a finger in the air, slamming down your empty glass. Fiending for yet another drink. 

Okay, maybe your ability to live in the now is to a fault as well. Nanami holds a hand up, signaling the barkeep to halt. “Sorry,” he apologizes politely, “she’s all good for now, thanks.” Ain’t that the truth. Your face looked tacky with sweat, pupils scarily dilated. Your words come out dimly slurred, and your gestures uncoordinated. As your business associate, he feels obligated to intervene at this point.

A hand slaps his down. Your hand. “Hey what gives?” You’re upset with him. “Just because you’re done doesn’t mean I am.”

“You’re three sips away from throwing up on yourself,” Nanami deadpans, unphased by your drunken outburst. Unbeknownst to the two of you, another patron had taken up the stool opposite of you. To be expected; the bar was decently crowded, that being said neither of you paid much mind to the man. He was younger than Nanami for sure, his hair unkempt and shaggy, swept back by sweat and something that looked like grease. He was smiling, probably on some brand of dope that Nanami was unfamiliar with. The stranger interrupts, leaning over with his elbow planted on the countertop. 

“You her father or some shit?” He speaks without any warning, catching both you and Nanami’s attention. 

Father? Nanami internally grimaces, jaw tightening. Just how old does he think I am? Trying not to be offended by the inquiry, he corrects the man. “Just a concerned friend, that’s all.” You have yet to speak, still a tad caught off guard by the unexpected company. 

The stranger’s grin widens, reaching shit-eating status. “Then hop the fuck off her case, man.” He shoots a pair of lidded, droopy eyes toward you, eyebrows jumping in a manner that is entirely too suggestive for Nanami’s liking. “If the lady wants another drink, then let her have another drink.”

Nanami feels the awkward tension thicken the air between this interaction. For all the shit you talked about getting hit on in bars, he would have never expected you to act so timid when put in a position like this. Nanami fully expected you to side with the latter party, to order another round of vodka-whatever and then leave with your newfound knight in shining armor. What actually happened: “No, er, my friend might be right actually,” followed by an incredibly strained chuckle. Your shoulders stiffen, Nanami can practically feel the way you harden up beside him. “I should probably take it easy.”

The man feigns grief. “Aw, c’mon. You seemed so eager before. Let me buy you another?”

“She just said—”

“I was talking to her, not you.”

Nanami was utterly shocked by the sheer gall this young man possessed. Was he trying to intimidate him? It was painfully ineffective. “I don’t want one,” you said with a little more oomph this time, fiercely hanging on the urge to defend Nanami. It made him feel strangely prideful. 

The stranger’s smile never retreated, but something sinister glinted in the ocean of his dark eyes. He gave a sniff, brushing the point of his nose with the pad of his thumb before hurling yet another unwanted flirtation your way. “Baby, hey, what’s one more drink? I saw you from across the room, I’ve been dyin’ to chat you up.” Under the table, his hand slips into your personal space. Nanami sees it unfold in his peripherals; the pallor hand slithering over your lap, grabbing a handful of your denim-clad thigh. You yelped in surprise, wincing. Nanami saw it all.  

He was not a violent man. In fact, he could count the number of times he’s thrown a punch in his life on one hand. Physical fights were pointless, a waste of time and energy because Nanami wholeheartedly believed that altercations were best settled with words. But the moment your nervous squeak found his ears, Nanami couldn’t control the urge to beat this guy’s face in. So that’s what he did; sliding out of his seat to round you and pull the stranger off his stool by the collar of his faux leather jacket. The material felt cheap and mingy, not something Nanami would ever be caught dead wearing. Without so much as a second thought, Nanami sends a heavy fist barreling into the meat of his cheek. One good, solid punch, and the sinewy gentleman was tumbling to the ground, walking the thin line between consciousness. “Shit…” Nanami breathes, chest heaving with barely concealed rage, knuckles throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. The bar went dead, too many pairs of eyes locked onto him to count, but the only ones he could care about were yours. 

You looked at Nanami with such astonishment, with your eyes pried wide as dinner plates and your mouth ajar. He was ready for you to yell at him, to curse him for embarrassing you in a pub you frequented, but nothing came. Well, almost nothing. 

“Security!” The bartender hollered thick and deep, slapping a damp rag onto the counter with a wet plap. 

“Shit!” Nanami repeated, cuffing a hand around the thinnest part of your wrist, tugging you into his side as you both raced toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

You’re gurgling and grumbling, latching onto the material of his shirt as little bouts of complaining bubbled past your lips. “Not so fast!” and “Oh God, my stomach” and “I don’t feel good.” Nanami had been reduced to your crutch at this point; he bore the entirety of your weight without batting an eye because your own legs were too wobbly to do it yourself. 

“I know,” he murmured, maneuvering through the crowd. “Hold it together, we’re almost there.”

The first step outside felt like entering Heaven. Nanami basked in the cleanliness of the chilly night air, gulping down a big breath of fresh oxygen that hadn’t been tainted by marijuana smoke. But suddenly, you’re detaching yourself from his hip and he’s bewildered by your sudden need for proximity. “Y/n—”

He turns to face you, only to be met with the crown of your head. Doubled over at the waist, hands on the lower fraction of your thighs, you vomit onto the dewy pavement… and his shoes. Nanami’s cursing once more, drawing closer despite how much you obviously don’t want him to. “Alright,” he coos in exasperation, gathering your hair into a bundle and holding it away from the splash zone. “It’s alright, get it out.”

“You’re… Did I just puke on y-your feet?” Your voice is croaky, something of a mixture of embarrassment and illness. You can’t even look at him. 

“Stand up,” Nanami tells you. He’s unbending you, straightening your body upright with a hand pressing your back in from his bowed shape. “Can you look at me?”

You pout, childlike. “No.” You’re looking at his shoes, the toes slick with remnants of your stomach acid. 

“They’re just shoes, I have a million pairs.” His head cocks to a tilt. “Would you look at me, please?”

You’re sighing, but looking up to him nonetheless. Gazing up with big, glossy eyes and wet lashes that clumped together through tears. Eyeliner diluted and cradling your undereyes in a dark embrace. You wipe your mouth with the back of a palm, smearing shimmery gloss out of the confines of your lip line. It’s all so nauseatingly familiar, this pitiful display. Nanami decides he hates seeing you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you chirp. 

“Don’t apologize.” 

“I’ll pay for them.”

Nanami puts a hand on your shoulder when he notices the slant in your posture. “Cut it out, that’s entirely unnecessary.” He looks around the parking lot, full of vehicles. They catch the glint from the yellowish street lamps. “Did you drive here?” He thinks it’s unlikely, seeing as you let yourself fall under such intoxication. You weren’t so irresponsible; if you drove here, you would’ve made sure you’d be able to drive home too, like he did. 

You’re shaking your head. “Caught a train.”

Nanami nods, pleased. “Good. That’s good.” With all the grace and gentleness in the world, the man loops your limp arm back around his nape, securing you against his oblique with a sturdy arm snaked around your waist. Everything is ginger, lest he upset your stomach again. “Are you good to walk?”

“Yeah, I think I’m alright.”

“Then let me take you to my car.”

That pulls a frown from you. “You don’t need—need to drive me there, Nana’. The station—” Hiccup “It’s just down the road.”

The blonde glowers. “You can barely stand on your own, public transportation is out of the question.” Like Hell he’s going to let an obviously inebriated, attractive young woman such as yourself ride the subway alone. Please, don’t make him laugh. “I’m driving you home.”

“It’s out of your way.”

“I don’t care.”

It’s a slow race, but Nanami eventually hauls you to his car parked at the entrance of the lot. A midnight shade Maserati; he doesn’t miss the way you gawk at his luxurious ride. “If I had a car like this, I’d never leave it.” He laughs. You smack his bicep. “I’m not kidding, I’d sleep in this thing. She’s gorgeous.”

“She says thank you,” he huffs his response. Nanami leans you up against the side of his car, pinning you between its door and his thigh while he opens the passenger door. “Watch your head.” His hand curls around the roof’s ledge, a makeshift cushion to protect your skull as you duck into the car seat. Immediately, you’re slumping back into the comfortable leather interior, moaning out quiet mewls of exhaustion. 

“Yeah, I’d definitely sleep in here.”

“Keep those eyes open.” The door swings shut, and Nanami makes haste when rounding the rear of his car to the driver’s side. He had barely toed the line of sobriety anyways, but knocking a stranger on his ass was definitely more than enough to woosh any semblance of haziness from his veins. Nanami wouldn’t think about driving—wouldn’t think about putting you or anyone else on the road in danger—if he felt even the slightest bit impaired by the scotch. Behind the wheel, the man leans across the center console to grab your seat’s safety belt, carefully dragging it over your chest and clipping it into the buckle. “I need your address first, then you can knock out.”

“My address…” You ponder, lips pursed and eyes blinking at a snail’s pace. Sleepiness prevails, and you fall in and out of slumber, head lolling and cheek mashed up against your shoulder. 

Nanami carps, unappreciative of your inability to stay awake long enough for this much needed conversation. “Hey,” he bleats, patting the top of your thigh. “Come on, Y/n. I need to know where you live.”

You whine, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “The city.”

“You live in the city.” Nanami deadpans at the useless information you’ve just spared. 

“Mm.” And then you’re drifting back to sleep. 

Nanami pinches high on the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, over the permanent divets where his glasses have drilled into his skin. The contortment of his fingers sends another spike of pain over his bruising knuckles. “Wake up and give me a proper address.” He supposes his heated seats aren’t doing much to stave off your tiredness, so he presses his knuckle into the off button. You whine. 

“I don’t remember, okay?”

That’s how you ended up at Nanami’s home, tucked under his lavish sheets in his bed that’s entirely too big for one person. Your outfit had been neatly folded and piled upon his dresser, exchanged for one of his tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were cinched at the waist. He helped you into his clothes—with your undivided consent, of course. A completely clinical and respectful process; Nanami looked elsewhere, acting as a handle for you to hold onto as you stepped into the oversized pants he held open for you. They were far too wide, falling off your hips, so he took the time to tie a precious, little bow with the drawstrings. 

“Comfy?” He asks upon his return to the bedroom, holding a glass of tap water in one hand, a bottle of pills rattling in the other. You’re exactly where he left you; swimming in his bedsheets, the comforter hoisted up to your chest. Nanami sets the water down on the bedside table, then takes a seat on the edge of his mattress, working the bottle open. 

“I’ve never been more comfortable,” you sigh blissfully, taking a deep inhale. “Your blankets smell good.”

The blonde can’t help his chuckle. “I’ll give you the name of the laundry detergent I use tomorrow.” With deft fingers, he plucks two small tablets, light pain medication, and sets the pair on the table next to your water glass. 

“Promise?” Your tongue pokes out from between your teeth, playful. He chides an airy yes, snapping the tylenol bottle shut. Then, your smile fades; you’re averting your eyes, fixing them somewhere over to the blank canvas of Nanami’s gray, bedroom wall. “Hey, um…” He watched the side of your face, watches the flex of your jawline and the tension in your neck. “Did I—I didn’t really throw up on you, right?”

You rub at your temple, like you’re trying to find the memory but it’s just out of reach. “No,” he replies instantly, steadily, like it’s not a complete lie. Like his bile-ridden shoes aren’t sitting outside on his front door step, waiting to be cleaned. “You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy,” you grumble, frustrated with yourself. “I had too much.”

Normal circumstances permitted, Nanami would’ve totally took this opportunity to have his I told you so moment. But you already looked  upset, maybe a little bit sick still, so he bit his tongue for you. “Some drunk imbecile interrupted us. We shared words, and then he got sick on us.” He was pleased with himself, his story must’ve been believable with the way you nodded along. 

“And then you punched him, right?”

His face drops. “That’s what you remember?”

Your shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, Nanami. Not for my entire life.”

“Kento.” You hum, confused, so he reiterates, “I mean, call me Kento. I just clothed you, I’d say we’re close enough.” It’s true, you guys were getting more and more comfortable together by the day. Even outside of work and the management project, Nanami and you share text conversations more frequently than he would’ve ever imagined. And these little hangouts—granted, only two have been executed thus far—have been the most fun he’s had in ages. More fun than he’d ever hope to have with his ‘friendly’ business colleagues. You’re his friend. 

You, Y/n L/n, are his friend. What a strange fucking twist of events, it nearly gives Nanami whiplash. 

“Ken… To…” You speak each syllable slowly, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. He nods, grinning easily. Happy. “Kento, Kento, Ken—”

“Okay, okay enough.” He rises, arms raised as he gives a hearty stretch to his back. “It’s bedtime. Over there,” Nanami points at a door, “is the bathroom if you need it. You’ve got water here, and make sure you take the medicine in the mornings. You’re going to have a terrible migraine.”

“Wait, where are you gonna go?”

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.”

“Kento…” You whine, and he really wished you wouldn’t do that. “C’mere. There’s room.”

You’re patting the expansive open space beside you, peeling back the heavy blankets. It’s an enticing offer, to slip in beside you and feed off your body heat. To hold you to him and— Stop, what are you thinking? Stupid. “I think it’s best we don’t. Sorry.” And then he’s fleeing to the door because the way in which he worded that made the depths of his soul curl with cringe. Nanami bids you a polite sleep well before leaving you to the darkness, though he has enough sense left to keep the door cracked just in case you should yell for him in the night. 

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[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ side gate (leclerc reader)

you love your brothers but god, sometimes they can be a bit too much.

warnings/notes: short and sweet ! bearman x reader kinda? can be read as romantic or platonic. make ur own story!

liked by charlesleclerc, olliebearman, arthurleclerc, and others...

ynleclerc: je t'aime, monaco 🇲🇨 !!

tagged: premaracing, f2

user: prettiest driver ever

arthurleclerc: block me out like that again and im telling maman

⤷ ynleclerc: ill tell rene ur harrassing me

user1: yn gives me so much hope for girls in f1 soon

charlesleclerc: block arthur out like that again it was funny

olliebearman: great job this race yn :)!!

ynleclerc: thanks olliee!!! <3

If Arthur didn’t shut his mouth, Lorenzo was almost a hundred percent sure you were going to lunge over the side of the boat and kill your twin brother.

“Arthur.” You hiss between your teeth, trying to furiously shove down the blush that's threatening to swallow you whole. You really don't want to be dealing with this right now.

“What?" Arthur blinks, then scoffs, "I’m just saying! You and--"

“Arthur, she might kill you if Charles overhears this.” Lorenzo hums into his wine, taking a slow sip and pretending not to see your exaggerated anger as you run your hand through your long hair. Longer than it had ever been nowadays.

“Oh come on! Charlie’s not even looking!” Arthur complains to Lorenzo, putting his hands on his hips as you cross the boat to try and jab at his collarbones. He dodges and scoffs again at Lorenzo, “And why aren’t you also teasing her.”

the eldest pauses as if thinking before simply saying, “Because I’m not a dickhead?”

“The married life changed you.” Arthur pouts and you laugh, pausing your fight with Arthur to see Lorenzo raise his eyebrows and set down his glass. Here it comes.

“Maman should marry you off, Arthur. Maybe it would make you a better person.” Lorenzo deadpans and you burst into laughter, now making Charles look over from where he and Alex have been preoccupied with Leo running amuck. Arthur scoffs, then grabs you and tosses you overboard the boat.

"Arthur!" Charles scolds in time with Lorenzo, demanding Arthur help you out of the cold seawater. With little guilt, Arthur drops the ladder so you can climb back in, and you don't even dignify him with a response as Lorenzo wraps you up in one of the towels and rubs it along your arms.

"You two always baby her!" Arthur complains and Charles sends Arthur a pointed look that has him backing down almost immediately. And maybe you let your frustrations out and kick your brother in the side and send him tumbling into the water too.

"Was that really necessary?!" Lorenzo groans, going to grab another towel while your mother makes her way out to the main deck in a rush, asking what's going on in hurried French. Charles responds to her immediately, saying you and Arthur are going back and forth about something, but Arthur is quick to retort with,

"Well, I wouldn't even be mad if she didn't make heart eyes at Ollie every five seconds!"

"I do not!" You retort back, causing Lorenzo to just unceremoniously turn and drag Arthur inside the cabin while your mother sighs. You are bright red in the face, trying to desperately stamer up some sort of excuse as you look to Charles. A smile breaks across your brother's face from where he stands near you, laughing softly to himself as he shakes his head.

"You know I don't care, right?" Charles says softly, tilting his head at you, "You and Ollie can be... whatever, I don't care. Arthur's just being annoying."

"I don't like Ollie like that, though." You huff, sitting down in the sun next to Charles. Trying to be warm from the chilly water, Charles shrugs and leans back as Alex smiles with a knowing look, snapping a photo of Leo trying to eat your towel.

"Sure," Charles smirks and you scowl, flicking your hair at Charles to spray cold water across his face. He screeched then started complaining, whacking your leg before he stood up and moved away from you--which was perfect because you got to spread out on the couch.

And as your phone pinged with a text from Ollie, you glanced down with a giddy smile. But no, you absolutely did not like Ollie. Never in a hundred years.

Oh, you were so fucked. Oh, you were so fucked.

Ollie laughs in the corner of the room, your eyes flickering over to him despite everything telling you to look away. Arthur's right next to you, grinning as he jokes with someone, but keeping a firm eye on you.

Did he still think you wanted to run off with one of the other drivers? Honestly, the idea was kinda appealing considering it would get you away from the wrath of your twin brothers overprotective nature. Even Lorenzo, who spent his time after school with your in his arms like a nanny, was more lax than Arthur.

Charles swapped depending on the day, which meant you never knew.

But Arthur? Good luck getting him to sway. He didn't even let drivers greet you without a glare. You both had been friends with Franco, Kimi, Ollie... about half the F2 grid for years, and yet Arthur still swore there were ulterior motives.

As Arthur send you a scowl for laughing at one of Franco's jokes, you excuse yourself to the kitchen. Which is still just as suffocating, but across the room you make eye contact with Ollie and pout at your brothers behavior.

Ollie glances at you and nods his head to the door with an eyebrow raise, making you quickly slip away from everyone else and out the back door. This party you're hosting for the end of the season is quite much, but luckily your mother loved to entertain people.

You sit down on the back steps, your small yard overlooking the mountainside of Monaco--high rises off in the distance by the water, glimmering in the night. The backdoor opens with its usual rattle, and theres a soft huff as your companion joins you.

"This party is suffocating me," Ollie groans, stretching his neck out as he joins you in the darkness of the back porch. There's a brief hesitance in Ollie's eyes before he sits down next to you and smiles softly as you turn to look at him.

"It's a lot, and Arthur is suffocating me." You sigh into your drink, taking a sip. Ollie hums at that, sitting down finally and stretching out on the steps.

"He's overbearing, isn't he?" Ollie looks to you, "I guess it makes sense. You're a pretty girl on a grid with a bunch of teenage boys. I know how we are. I can't blame him."

You laugh softly, nodding your head. Ollie did have a point, and you murmur, "I know he wants to protect me. I'm glad he does, y'know? But sometimes I just wanna... I dunno," you gesture to the cityscape in front of you, "Run off into the dark with a guy just to piss him off."

You turn back to the sky, making out some of the faint stars in the skyline. And when you feel eyes on you and you turn to look, Ollie smiles at you where he's already been looking for a while.

"Love Arthur and all but... you wanna ditch?" He asks with a shy grin and you feel your lips curl up into a grin, motioning to the side of the house.

"We can use the side gate." You whisper. There's a pause, and then your both leaving your glasses by the backsteps as Ollie grabs your hand and you both slip out--whispering and giggling, two little shadows running down the road into the chilly Monaco night.

liked by olliebearman, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen, and others...

ynleclerc: stole ollie and ran away lol

tagged: olliebearman

arthurleclerc: WHERE ARE YOU??

user: HELLO?

user1: queen just casually posting the cutest photos?

kimiantonelli: arthur is losing his mind this is so funny

olliebearman: stars !!

⤷ ynleclerc: stars!!!

⤷arthurleclerc: YOU ARE WITH HER??

⤷ arthurleclerc: with MY sister?

⤷ olliebearman: arthur has never heard of friends

⤷ arthurleclerc: WITH MY TWIN?

⤷ lorenzoleclerc: you both better run

⤷ ynleclerc: arthur is just butthurt

everything tag list (open):

@d3kstar

[bsturnzmtt]

Accident - M. Sturniolo

Enemies to lovers

Part 2 here

Paring: dom!matt x sub!fem reader

Contains/warnings: Smut, oral (male receiving),very rough, forced but not actually, usage of words like, slut, whore, cunt, good girl, cumdump.

Summary: You are best friends with Nick and Chris Sturniolo, Matt hates you for some reason. One day you’re home alone at their house, or so you thought so. Looking for a charger you enter Matt’s room. You walked in on Matt doing something no one wants to walk into…

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You’re best friends with two of the triplets, Chris and Nick. But with the other triplet Matt, well you guys don’t get along so well. (he hates you).

You were hanging out with Chris and Nick all day until they had to go out, you assumed Matt went with them too. Right now you’re chilling in Nicks room until you realize your phone is 14%. “shit” you say to yourself.

You stand up and start looking for a charger in Nicks room, but nothing. So you go to Chris room, and again nothing. “Ugh, great” you say to yourself as you walk up to Matt’s room. You walk in without thinking, only to find a very explicit scene. As you open the door your eyes immediately land on Matt who was sliding his hand up and down his hardened dick. Matt turns around and sees you there, his eyes immediately widening.

“WHAT THE FU- GET OUT!” Matt screams at you.

“IM SORRY I WAS LOOKING FOR A CHARGER. I- I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE HERE” you immediately get out and shut the door behind you, in shock of what you just saw.

You take a deep breath and start making yourself to the kitchen as you replay the image of Matt jerking off in your head. You feel as your panties start to get wet. “What just happened?” You say in your head. “Why is he so hot?… why is his dick so big!?” You say in your head frustrated with yourself for thinking that and getting turned on with what you saw. You get to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water.

Matt watches as you leave his room, the weight of the embarrassing situation settling in. He can’t help but feel frustration and anger towards you, but his dick can’t help but get harder. He follows you, frustration bubbling within him.

Your body immediately turns around as you heard Matt come in into the kitchen.

“You better count yourself lucky I don’t fucking strangle you right now.” Matt say with a rough tone.

You stand there not knowing what to say, you feel embarrassed but turned on at the same time.

“I- .. Matt I’m so sorry”. That’s all that came out of your mouth.

Matt steps closer to you. “You know, you never fucking learn do you? Every goddamn time it's something new with you. You always find a way to annoy me.”

“It was an accident!! I- I didn’t know you were here, or that you were doing… that. I thought you went out with Chris and Nick!”

Matt rolls his eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, I'm sure it was just an accident.” He says with a smirk appearing in his face.

“It was.” You immediately say.

He scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Sure it was. You're always in my business, always snooping around. Always doing anything to get me mad.”

“You think I wanted to see that!? I’m literally traumatized”. You say nearly raising your voice at him.

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He takes a step towards you, towering over you with a devious smirk. “Oh? And what exactly did you see that has traumatized you so badly? Was it the sight of me getting off?”

“Yes, it was disgusting don’t bring it up.” You lie and take a step back.

He chuckles and shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “Your face said otherwise when you saw me”

“Shut up”

His smirk widens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your face. “Oh, I'm not shutting up until you apologize for barging into my room uninvited”. He says, his hand trailing down your arm.

“I already said sorry” You take a step backwards as you say that.

He smirks, knowing he's got you right where he wants you. He walks you backwards until your back is against the fridge, pinning you in place with his body. “That's not going to cut it.”

“what?” You ask in a nervous tone.

His hand slides down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses himself against you. “I want a real apology. On your knees, now.” he commands, his voice low and demanding. “Show me how sorry you are.”

His words go straight to your wet pussy. “What!?” You say with a scoff.

His grip on your hip tightens, his voice dropping to a growl. “Don't test me”, he warns, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desire. “You know damn well what I want. Now get on your fucking knees.”

“what, you didn’t get to finish?” You say in a teasing voice giving him attitude.

His eyes narrow, his grip on your hip becoming almost painful as he tries to control his frustration. “I said, on your knees” he repeats, his tone firm and unyielding. “Now.”

“Mmm what if I don’t want to?” You say with a daring smirk.

In a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and forces your hand to his crotch, pressing your palm against the growing bulge in his jeans. “You're not in a position to say no” he hisses.

You gasp as he forces your hand to his hard dick.

“See what you do to me?” His voice is low and strained. “I want your mouth on me.”

You can’t feel but get more turned on, you’re panties soaked at this point.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “I'll give you a choice. You can either suck me off right here, or I can bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you until you can't walk straight.”

That was it. Those were the words that made you lose control. You wanted the second option, you wanted him to fuck you senseless. But you decided to be obedient and get on your knees for him.

As you get on your knees his smirk widens. “Good girl” He immediately pulled his pants and underwear down. His fingers running through your hair as he guides his cock to your lips. “Suck it like the good little slut you are.” Your tongue immediately goes to lick his tip, teasing him a little.

His grip on your hair tightening as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. “Don’t fucking tease.” He groans, pushing himself roughly into your mouth. You let out a muffled moan and he forces his cock into your mouth. You start sucking him off moving your tongue around his cock.

His hips start to move, thrusting into your mouth with increasing urgency as you work his cock. “Fuck, just like that” he moans, his breath coming in short gasps. “Take it all, you filthy little cumslut.” Those degrading words encouraged you to go faster and deeper making you gag a little. He smirks at your gag, pulling out for a moment before sliding back in, giving you a chance to breathe. “You're doing well.” His words make your pussy clench around nothing.

He keeps throat fucking you being rougher with every thrust. “Fucking slut”. As he goes faster and rougher you start gagging and your eyes start to tear. He relishes the sight of tears in your eyes, reaching down to grip you by the hair and fuck your face harder. “Take it all, I want you to choke on it.” You start to let out more muffled moans.

As Matt continues to fuck your mouth, he reaches the brink of his climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “You want my cum, slut?” His voice is rough and commanding. You nod eagerly. “Then fuck get ready.” With a final, brutal thrust that made you gag he releases himself down your throat. “Swallow it.” And that’s exactly what you do, you swallow every last drop of his cum.

As he rides out his orgasm, he holds your head firmly in place, making sure you swallow every drop. “Good girl”, he praises, his grip easing once he's finished. “You're such a good little cumdump.” He pulls out, his cock still semi-hard. You finish swallowing everything and start catching up your breath.

Matt watches you swallow the last of his cum, a cruel smile on his lips. “See how good you are at taking every inch and swallowing my load?” He pumps himself a few times, watching as his cock hardens once more. You look at his hardening again and then you look up at him, your face still with tears. You see his face signalling you to take his cock again.

“Matt.. I- I can’t” you say in a trembling voice still catching up your breath.

He chuckled and gave you a demanding glare. Matt waits a moment, giving you the chance to take his cock again. When you don't immediately comply he grips your hair, forcing you to look up at him. “I didn’t fucking ask. Start sucking slut.” He said in a rough and demanding tone as he positioned his dick in front of your face again.

You’re in shock with his words, but at the same time you can’t help but feel your pussy clench around nothing again and your mouth watering. You take some seconds to finally catch your breath and start sucking him again.

Matt lets out a sigh of relief, his irritation melting away as you start sucking him once more. He uses your hair to control your movements, guiding you back and forth along his length. “That's it, slut. You know exactly what I like.” One of your hands start sliding down the rest of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth.

Matt moans at the feeling of your hands on his cock, his hips bucking involuntarily. “Yes, just like that.” His hands continue to guide your head as he starts fucking your mouth more roughly, forcing his cock in and out between your lips as muffled moans leave your mouth. Matt's breathing becomes more labored as he nears another orgasm. “You want more, slut?”He pulls your head back, his cock slipping from your lips. “Open your mouth. I'm going to fill it again.” You obediently opened your mouth and sticked your tongue out.

With another growl Matt starts to stroke his cock, aiming it at your open mouth. He comes hard, firing stream after stream of cum into your waiting mouth. “Fuck, slut.” He watches with satisfaction as you swallow each spurt of semen, making sure you take every last drop.

As you swallow the last of his load, Matt smirks, his chest heaving with exertion. “Good girl.” He reaches down, brushing some of the cum from your lips with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. “Clean up.”

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Heyy this is my first fic. Hope you guys liked it, I’m not that good at writing but I tried my best.

Hope this does well 💕

And let me now if you guys want part 2 when he actually fucks her.

Please like and follow 💕❤️

Tags: 🏷️

[dazeddo11]

WIP draft

Ellie calls you drunk to pick her up, months after she left you.

Ellie stumbles out of the bar, looking around trying to remember how she walked there. Her eyes catch a bright red phone in a glass booth, your voice worming its way into her head. No I shouldn't... She thought, turning away from the phone. It's so late, she's not even up. What is she is? What if you do and she answers? She won't....she might. Ellie turned on her heels, she knows this is dumb. She would just walk home, but she needs you right now. She misses your face and how you used to laugh at her cheesy jokes, or when she taught you with her guitar.

She leans against the glass wall of the booth, her fingers shaking as she punches in your number. One ring....two... three...fo-

"Hello?" Your groggy voice was heard. Oh god, you actually answered. Ellie stood there for a few seconds, she didn't think this far. She struggles to find words, all of them caught in her throat. She wants to apologize, to tell you it was the worst mistake of her life and she can't sleep without you by her side anymore. Fuck she can't let you hang up, she can't wait too long, what if she says the wrong thing?

"M' sorry, just wanted to hear your voice..." Ellie slurred into the phone.

"Ellie? What time is it? Are you drunk?"

"It's...late, I only had a few drinks."

"God Ellie, where are you?"

"you don't have to come get me baby, im fine."

"No Ellie, you're drunk. Where are you?"

"J's the corner by Dave's Den."

"Stay there, don't move."

You sighed as you hung up, shuffling out of bed. You grab your keys and yawn, what a great way to wake up! You grab a bottle of water from the fridge before you leave, no way are you letting Ellie get sick in your car. You stopped by a local pizza place on the way, might as well since you're already out. You almost forgot how to get to that crummy old bar, that's where you and Ellie met. She had watched you dance all night, couldn't take her eyes off you. She was too nervous to buy you a drink or talk to you, but you spotted her watching you. You thought she was cute and you bought her a drink. You guys hooked up that night, and the rest was is history.

Ellie smiled as she saw your familiar car, stumbling over to wait at the curb. When you stop the car and get out to help her, she raises an arm. "I'm fine! I can do it." She smiled as she almost stumbled backwards. You rolled your eyes and walked over, gently grabbing her upper arm. You guided her to the side as you opened the door, helping her in. You close the door and get back on your side, tossing the water into her lap. She hums and looks up at you. Your face glowed with every lamppost, highlighting all the places she used to flutter kisses, and stroke lovingly. She misses you so so much.

Should I keep writing this or give up?

[kikixreverie]

Your boys

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Female reader

Summary - The war has been a brutal reality check for you in more ways than one, the first being that life is far more fragile than you thought, and the second that you were deeply in love with not one… but both of your best friends.

Word count - 8k

Warnings - (18+) Smut, threesome, oral sex, handjob, mentions of war and homophobia.

A/N - Hi, im still here kinda. Suffered a pretty rough, year long writers block and then was finally able to edit this one shot I wrote ages ago. I hope you enjoy it and all its filth.

________________________________

The half-empty bar rings with laughter and the clinking of glasses as its patrons drown out their sorrows with liquor, a temporary haven for those seeking distraction from the heartlessness they've seen in the past few years. The smoke in the air was thick, but better than what you were used to, the scent of tobacco, not fire out on the field, though it lingers in your nose all the same. 

The music, a familiar jazz tune carries through that thickened air, paired with deep laughter from rowdy men trying to ignore the sickening sense of dread they all pretend not to feel. Your attention however, is divided. Humming softly to the tune you can only half remember, your focus stays fixed on him—Bucky Barnes, gazing from afar at his wide, mirthful grin, those blue eyes of his reflecting the low lighting of the bar as he sips at yet another beer. 

You watch as Steve walks over to rejoin them, more drinks in his hands which he passes to the surrounding men with a nod, which they each take from him, too distracted with their chatter to thank him. Bucky chuckles, shifting back from the group to say something to Steve, a sly grin gracing his lips, smirking as Steve laughs softly at his joke, sadly too far away for you to be in on it.

You get lost in the sight of the men you've known far longer than you haven't, and have seen sink into themselves more and more in recent years, weathered by war, and yet, beneath the surface, your heart can still manage to find a lesser problem to dwell on—feelings you never even asked for becoming even more known to you the more you watch them, both so pretty. They’d always been pretty.

"Come here often?" 

You sigh at the unexpected voice, an instinctual reaction at this point, and regretfully you looked away from the two men, staring down at your glass for a moment before you tilted your head to the left and eyed her with fake annoyance, staring deadpan at the mischievous smirk playing on her red lips. You both know she caught you staring.

You look down at your drink again, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as you lift it to take another sip and wince, "No, should I?" 

Her smirk grows wider, resting her elbow on the sticky bar top. She shrugs, "Depends what you're here for."

You pause for a few seconds, squinting at her as if flicking through the possible reasons to be in this dingy bar, other than an easy escape from the war outside. "Alcohol?" You ask, raising a brow. The only reason you were in this bar would be for Bucky and Steve. 

"Ah, well in that case, no. The beer here is watered-down and overpriced." She quips, clinking her glass with yours before taking the seat beside you.

"Oh, that explains it." You respond, sighing dramatically as you take a swig from your glass. Peggy hums softly, her fingertips drifting over the lip of her glass. You can feel her eyes on you, as usual, watching, assessing the situation, and you take a risky glance at her, slightly apprehensive, not looking forward to the way she's going to read you like a goddamn book. "What?"

"Why are you over here, all by yourself?" She asks, her head tilted with curiosity.

You take pause at her question, setting your drink back down with a sigh, gaze drifting back over to the group of men talking loudly with warm grins on their faces, all the happiest you'd seen them in weeks if not months... actually years. 

"I don't know, I just needed some time alone I guess." You shrug, which immediately earns you a disbelieving scoff.

"Bullshit, the one thing no sergeant would want at a time like this is to be alone. It's a tough job, we all survive on these rare few moments when we get to feel some resemblance of normal. Now tell me why you're sitting here alone."

You don't respond for a long moment, eyes flicking over to your childhood best friends again, as they often do when you find yourself in any room with them. "I'm just in my head. I can't stop thinking about what could happen... and what will. I just- I wish I could go back just for a moment, just to remember what it was like before everything went to shit. I'm sick of thinking the worst every time it falls quiet." 

She listens quietly, then nods, her hand moving to your arm to give a reassuring squeeze, "I think we all understand that feeling." 

You nod too, chewing nervously on your lower lip, feeling that sinking feeling like you've ruined the small moment of fun you’d been granted by taking notice of those anxious thoughts. Bucky's hand rests on Steve's shoulder as he talks into his ear, his lips curling up as he laughs through his own words, Steve blushing beside him, shaking his head and looking down at the floor.

"I'd give anything to go back." You whisper, eyes glued to them, thinking about the times Bucky would drag both you and Steve out dancing with him, and Steve would always step on your feet, and then apologise with pink cheeks each time as you reassured him you lost sensation in them two songs ago. 

"I'm guessing you're talking about your boys." Responds Peggy and you nod before your eyebrows furrow, turning to her quickly with a confused frown on your face.

"My boys?" You repeat, ignoring how the notion of it makes you feel, because it just sounds completely ridiculous - and yes, they are your boys.

"Yes. I mean, they are your closest friends, aren't they?" She laughs, and you give your sad attempt at a normal laugh back to her. 

"Yeah, of course. We've been best friends since we were kids." You say back, cringing at your awkwardness and sipping on your drink to try hide it. 

It falls silent for a moment, which was a nice respite to the conversation that was making you anxious enough. Peggy obviously breaks it again. "You miss them." 

It wasn't a question, so you don’t answer, just stare down silently at your glass, swallowing the lump in your throat, that anxiety just getting worse, weighing you down onto your seat. You nod because it's true. With how hectic and scary the past few years have been, all three of you have changed in some way, and you've not had time to get to know those differences. You'd barely spoken to them about anything other than mission plans in weeks, everyone just more than eager to win this war and get home.

"Go talk to them, I'm sure they miss you too." Peggy offers softly, patting your shoulder again before giving you a smile. She slips off her chair, finally leaving you with your thoughts, walking across the bar to sit with the howling commandos with a half-empty drink in her hand, saluting the very boys you were just talking about, and you fight to ignore the stupid jealousy you feel when they both return the gesture to the gorgeous woman.

You’re in way over your head.

You’d hate to admit it, but she’s right, you miss them, very, very much. Things haven't been the same since the war started, and you know it'd be naive to think it will ever go back to how it was. You feel that breath-stealing sadness whenever you look at Steve, a feeling you know is mutual for Bucky too. You still don't always recognise him when he's facing away from you, searching in a crowd for a small, delicate Steve that no longer exists, before you remember the beast of a man he'd become and feel a different kind of warm flutter when you see him. 

Bucky is different too, quieter, rougher around the edges, darker. You miss that boyish charm of his, the easygoing, easy-loving James Barnes everyone knew. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, but he guards it now, keeps it locked away for safekeeping. He barely spoke for weeks after Steve got him out of that place, barely ate. You haven’t seen him cry in months either, which is somehow much more worrying than if he were to break down into tears each night like a lot of the boys do in secret. 

It hurts when you think back to before, a time when the three of you were so close you spent most nights sleeping at each other's houses, a time when your biggest worry was that the neighbours were gossiping about your 'morals', despite how many times Bucky reminded you that the old lady next door's opinion shouldn't matter to you. 

But it did. Sometimes even you worried about your 'morals', a socially-expected guilt clouding the thoughts you'd have about them, both of them. It's always been more. A part of you always knew there was a deeper understanding the three of you had for each other, like how soulmates would be described in the romance books you had read, only it couldn't be so easy that you were in love with one of your best friends, it had to be both.

A person sits beside you again, and you roll your eyes with a small smile, turning towards them and expecting it to be Peggy back to drag you over to everybody else, but you quickly drop the expression at the sight of a man you had never seen before, smiling at you as if you'd invited him to sit there.

"Come here often?" The man asks, not sounding the slightest bit ironic, as amusing as that is for you. You hide your laugh behind your almost empty glass, which doesn’t help you one bit seeing as the glass is clear. You resort to biting your cheek when he just stares back expectantly, apparently waiting for you to swoon and faint into his arms. 

You shake your head, reminding yourself to definitely not come here often. "No, sorry." You respond, mentally scolding yourself for apologising for no reason, and then scolding yourself for scolding yourself. Can he just fuck off maybe?

"That's okay. Pretty dame like you in a bar like this, you here with anyone?" He sounds like Bucky, you think to yourself, only its not charming one bit when this stranger calls your a ‘dame’. He moves closer to you, his arm almost touching yours, which was immediately enough for you to shift away, feeling uncomfortable and annoyed that he was in your space. You scoff, deciding you've seen far too much to give a shit about upsetting some creepy guy in a bar. You open your mouth to shut him down.

"Yeah, she's with us." 

For fucks sake why can't I do the fun part? 

You already know it’s Steve's voice, strong with that Brooklyn accent, even stronger with the distaste in his voice. You don’t turn to look at him, still trying to keep the distance between you and the guy who’s staring wide-eyed up at Captain America.

"Maybe go and bother someone else." Bucky adds, moving in behind the guy, his tone much less polite than the Captain's.

The man doesn’t say a word, much to your amusement, just puts his head down and stands, walking away, probably going to find some other poor woman to bother, or nurse a stronger drink and lick his wounds.

They sit either side of you, Bucky's hand moving to your back. "You alright, doll?" 

You sigh and nod, rubbing your forehead and smiling softly at him "I'm fine, Buck. You know I could've easily scared him away." 

Bucky nods, smirking softly. He's seen you shut down many a guy before the war,

"I know, just making sure." 

It falls silent for a moment, Bucky doesn't break eye contact with you and you can't bring yourself to do it for him, his gaze soft and inviting, almost as distracting as the way he wets his lower lip the way he often does. 

"Why are you sittin' over here?" Steve asks, and it finally draws you to look away from Bucky, clearing your throat before turning to Steve on your left.

"Just lost in thought I guess." You respond with a shrug, deciding not to disclose the fact that you were lost in thought about them, as per usual.

Steves cheeks remain a little pink and you don’t get why, wondering if he had noticed the weird staring going on between you and Bucky, which only makes you blush just the same in embarrassment. 

"Thinking 'bout what, doll?" Bucky presses, his warm breath brushing against your shoulder. You don't let yourself look at him again, staring straight ahead as your stomach flutters with nerves and something else you don't want to think about yet.

You shrug, breathless as Steve inches slightly closer to you too, as if he and Bucky had some nefarious plan to make you want them impossibly more, his shoulder pressing against yours. 

"I don't know. Just lost in thought about... how bad the beer is." You say, sheepish at your stupid response, but Steve laughs sweetly, which only makes you smile. 

Bucky only hums in response though and you look over at him again, that enticing look in his eyes, "How about we get out of here? Just us three, we can swing it like old times, got a fairly decent bottle of whiskey in my room that's waiting to be drank." 

You inhale softly in surprise and excitement. It certainly wouldn't be the first time the three of you had gotten drunk together alone, but it's been a while, and for some reason, it seemed like something different now, something new.

You glance over at Steve to see him waiting for your response, seemingly already aware of Bucky's idea, so you nod, not trusting yourself to speak and not look stupid.

You all leave the bar together after gathering your things, purposefully ignoring the smirk Peggy gives you as you walk past, just wanting to get out of the stuffy bar and away from the noise for a while.

It was a silent taxi ride the whole way back to the hotel you were all currently staying at, though not awkward. You sat between the two men, Bucky's thigh pressed against yours while you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder. 

You'd always thought that taxis were fairly spacious until you had to share one with a super-soldier and James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve pays the taxi driver with the best tip he can afford and soon enough you were all piling into Bucky's room. 

You sigh when you walk through the door, not giving a second to hesitate to go to the bed, falling forward with another sigh as you stretch out across the mattress, kicking off your uncomfortable shoes and letting them hit the floor with a soft thud. It wasn’t often you had access to an actual bed.

You can hear Bucky and Steve laughing as they take off their jackets, which you didn't have the nerve to watch them do.

"Comfy?" Steve asks, walking over to the small radio on the bedside table and switching through the channels till he found some decent music to have on quietly in the background. 

You nod, humming softly and closing your eyes, "You try wearing heels for a whole night only 3 days after getting off the field." 

Bucky sits beside you on the bed, looking down at you as you hesitantly peek your eyes open to look at him.

"Can't imagine the pain, doll. Want a foot rub?" He teases, a lopsided smirk playing on lips.

You scoff in response, laughing softly and definitely not considering his most likely joking offer. Instead of putting your sore feet on his lap, you just blush and sit up, shoving at his broad shoulder. "Shut up. Where's that decent whiskey you promised, hm?"

He laughs, picking something up off the floor from beside the bed and holding up a full bottle, passing it to you as he takes a glass from the bedside table near him, holding it out for you to pour the liquid into it. 

"Hey guys, I'm gonna go change, then I'll be back, okay?" Says Steve, a smile on his face as he walks back towards the door, and you and James both nod, watching the tall man duck slightly through the doorway and leave room gently shutting the door behind him.

Its comfortably quiet in the hotel room, though the atmosphere slightly different. You sip at the strong-tasting, barely decent whiskey, the liquid burning its way down your throat to settle in your stomach, warm and familiar.

Your gaze again drifts to him, watching over the rim of your glass as Bucky moves to sit against the bed frame after pouring his own drink, shoes kicked to the floor, watching you right back, his head resting against the dark wooden frame, a soft look on his handsome face. A strand of his dark hair falls onto his forehead, and you follow it like an arrow pointing down to the white shirt he's wearing, the top few buttons undone as some sick way to punish you even further.

"You're always so sweet on him." He murmurs quietly, breaking the silence. He doesn’t sound one bit jealous, only fond, his head tilted slightly, his tongue casually dragging across his lower lip.

"Aren't we both?" You tilt your head at him as you ask the question. It feels serious, despite the sweetness of his smile, theres something more hidden in the words, but neither of you are ready to say something like that out loud, the denial comfortable for a moment longer.

He goes quiet again, chewing on his lip as he stares down at the bed sheets, sighing softly. "I guess it's hard not to be. I know he's all tall and macho now," He pauses to huff a laugh, you watching and listening quietly and intently, him looking up to the ceiling as he continues, the smile fading to something softer, "But he's still Stevie."

A hint of a smile pulls at your lips, and you nod, holding your drink up to not spill anything as you shuffle over on your knees to sit beside him against the headboard, huffing softly at the movement, then propping up pillows behind you to be more comfortable as Bucky watches with an amused smile.

"And you're still Buck." You add once you’re settled, looking at his gorgeous face, your chin tilted upwards, and his down. He swallows softly, and you notice the movement of it, his adams apple moving in a distracting way that you swear makes you feel thirsty, so you take another sip of your drink, hoping it will settle the feeling it obviously wont.

"You sure about that?" He asks, his eyes flicking down, watching the whiskey swirl in his glass, lips set in something closer to a frown now. You know he's hurting, even if he hasn't felt ready to confide in you about it yet.

"Very." He looks at you when you say it, and you hold his gaze this time, his stare so intense, eyes so blue, lips so pink. 

It takes your dumb, denial-stuck mind a moment longer to realise that you were looking down at his lips and that he was looking at yours at the same time, and there was no actual effort to either of you leaning closer, just a magnetism and a feeling spreading through your chest and butterfly filled stomach that you don’t even question it, don’t think once about the consequences, and technically its Bucky that ends up closing the tiny gap you’d made for him to do so, putting his glass down at the bedside table closest to him as his soft, warm lips make contact, eyes drifting closed,his hand then reaching across you and taking your glass too placing it down.

With his hands free, they move to cup your face, lips moving against yours, the kiss soft and sweet as your fingers drift up to the nape of his neck, his right hand reaching down for your thigh, grabbing flesh and trying to pull you closer as your lips move faster, a realisation that this kiss can’t last forever and you both swear you need it to.

It shifts from sweet and soft, to passionate and fast-moving, an almost desperate feeling urging you to press closer, your lips coaxing Bucky's to open as his hands grip your skin, your hips, waist, thighs. You just want to taste him, just like you'd always dreamed of doing. It barely feels real, but you barely think about it when you slide your tongue against his lips and earn yourself a soft, heated groan in response.

The booze doesn’t matter, you were drunk on him, butterflies in your stomach, heart hammering in your chest, an ache forming between your legs.

You'd never experienced a kiss like this before, never this intense desperation, so needy for more, clutching at eachother and shifting on the bed, breathing against his cheek.

Time is far lost to you both, only warm skin and hot mouths and soft lips, but the noise at the door breaks through the goodness of the moment, and you and Bucky quickly pull away from each other, panting for air as your heart hammers in your chest. Steve stands at the door wide-eyed.

Bucky licks his lips wordlessly as he tries to calm himself down, sighing and pushing his hair back, looking down at the bedsheets. 

"Steve?" You ask when he doesn’t say anything, anxiety clouding the heated memory replaying of the kiss, as you wait for any reaction from Steve.

Steve couldn’t look more shocked, unable to look either of you in the eye, standing sheepishly at the door as he flushes pink.

"Sorry." He mutters, reaching for the door handle and making his turn to leave, and your heart lurches, sitting up to stop him, but Bucky speaks up before you can remember what words are. 

"Steve." He says softly, and the blonde pauses, looking over at Bucky and waiting to be chastised for entering the room without knocking, but Bucky only offers a small, hesitant smile, "C'mere." 

Poor Steve stands frozen for a while, face only getting redder as you and Bucky stare back at him, the image of the two of you kissing, Bucky's hand squeezing your bare thigh under your dress, yours tugging on his hair, its heavy in the forefront of his mind, and it sets something off in his stomach, something he likes the feeling of.

Bucky gesturesfor him to sit on the bed with them and slowly, Steve does. 

"I didn't mean to-" Steve begins, but Bucky cut him off and you watch dumbly as he handles the situation.

"It's okay." He assures, falling silent for a moment as he tries to find the words to say what he really wanted to, "We're all friends, right? It shouldn't be awkward." 

It’s actually incredibly awkward, but denial was a much easier option, and so you simply avoid eye contact with either of them as you think you’re so good at doing, as you reached over Bucky for your drink again, taking a long sip of the alcohol, focusing on the burn in your throat rather than the ache between your thighs.

"Yeah," Steve responds, sounding as breathless as you feel.

"Maybe-" Bucky stops himself, and you lookover at him, waiting with bated breath for him to say 'Maybe we should just forget it ever happened' but his mind goes elsewhere, "Maybe you two should kiss. You know... make it even." 

The tension in the room couldn’t be any thicker, and so completely silent, not a breath between you. You chance a risky glance at Steve and he stares straight at Bucky, mouth agape, eyes wide.

You feel like you need to say something, feel like you’re fighting between your mind, your heart, and your… The nerve builds up quick and words rush out of your mouth, just needing to escape this awkwardness, "Bucky, I don't think Steve would-" 

"C'mon, I'm not blind, I see the way you two look at each other. You're telling me neither of you is at least a tiny bit curious what it would be like?" Bucky cuts you off, looking between you and Steve with a raised brow, "Don't feel forced to do anything, of course. Just... I don't know... Think about it?"

Oh, you’re thinking about it, you have been thinking about it, for years, in fact you’re imagining it in way too much detail, but acting on it like this, rather than a random, heated frenzy like with Bucky, is much more nerve-wracking.

Its when you risk a glance at Steve that the doubts starts to slip away slightly. its so painstakingly obvious, the blush on his face, the way he can’t look you in the eye and he seemed just as deep in thought as you. You remind yourself who you're with, though much taller now, he’s still Stevie. Your teeth catch your lip, nerves fading enough that you feel less awkward and more anticipating. It already feels like it's the end of the world anyway, actions tend to feel much less consequential. 

"I don't know, Steve..." You start, watching with rising butterflies as he looks over at you, his lips parted, "Maybe he's right."

James grins like you’ve joined the dark side, smirking down at his glass, just listening to you shift into a second devil on Stevie’s shoulder.

"P-pardon?" He almost whispers, and you smile softly, still polite Stevie.

"Maybe we should kiss." You manoeuvre onto your knees, and James wordlessly takes your drink again, placing it back down and inhaling softly, leaning back against the bed frame again and just watching quietly. Steve breathes in, watching you move closer. "Only if you want to, of course." You add for good measure, and Steve gulps, lips parting as he looks over at Bucky, as if for reassurance, Bucky just stares back. You crawl over, settling in front of him, "Do you want to?"

He takes another moment, before softly, he nods, taking a deep breath. 

You look into his eyes, scooting close enough for your thigh to touch his, and you reach for his broad shoulders, biting your lip softly. You can’t quite wrap your head around the idea of kissing either of them ever, especially not both... in front of each other in the time span of five minutes... but there’s no room for regret, just you and your boys...

Your hand glides over to his face, holding his jaw softly as you tilt his head down to you, pressing your lips against his.

This kiss was softer, slower. You knew Steve had kissed before, you were the one who heartbreakingly caught him with not one, but two USO girls, but hes certainly not as experienced as Bucky, nervous and shy, so you stay as gentle as possible, not pushing him to go any further than the gentle touch of your lips until he presses for more, tentative, but he follows your lead, his right hand hovering over your waist before he pulls it away, and you kiss him once more before breaking the contact. You can tell how nervous he still is. 

The room is still as you and Steve pull away from each other, Steve's focus stuck on you as you sit back slightly, looking over at Bucky, as your lips tingle from the kiss, curious to see his reaction, and the sight of him makes your stomach flip.

He sits rested back against the headboard again, legs splayed out in front of him as he watches the two of you with a clearly lustful gaze, his lower lip caught between his teeth, this dark desperation in his eyes, and its like you can read the dirty thoughts clouding his mind.

You don’t think at all when the words left your mouth, but they do, "Your turn."

Buckys lips part, eyes widening slightly and Steve takes an audible breath from beside you.

"What?" The blonde gulps.

You swallow your nerves again, Bucky was right, he could see the way you and Steve look at each other, because you've always looked at each other that way, just like you and Bucky look at each other, just like Bucky and Steve.

It's something that none of you had ever addressed until now, something you'd never let yourselves act upon, but who cares what people think at this point, who cares where this could lead you. If the war has given anything but trauma to you, it's shown you how fucking fragile life is, how much you'd regret it if you never acted upon these feelings, how much they'd regret it.

"You two should make it even, right?"

Steve stares at you, not letting his gaze drift to Bucky, but Bucky stares right at him, something intense in his eyes, something between realisation and surrender, and its clear that he’s waiting for Steve to reject it, to reject him, to wrinkle his nose at the disgusting notion of a man kissing another man, just as everybody else would do, but Bucky knows that wasn't a fair assumption to make about the golden-hearted man he knows their Stevie to be. He still waits though, preparing himself to have to have to take the rejection.

"I-" Steve starts, the very same worries as Bucky filling his head.

"Steve, aren't you at least a tiny bit curious?" You ask gently, using Bucky's previous words in hopes of lightening the mood slightly, which seems to work when Steve huffs a small laugh, though he gives no response. 

You look at Bucky, seeing the heartbreaking disappointment and acceptance in his eyes. You nudge his foot, giving him a soft smile of encouragement when he looks up at you.

He gives you a small smile back, before looking over at Steve, wetting his lips.

"Stevie." He almost whispers his name, and his gaze is soft when it meets Steve’s, "Come here." 

Steve decides not to give himself the chance to hesitate, moving towards Bucky before he can think about what he’s doing, and Bucky leans forward to meet him halfway, his palm sliding across his cheek, thumb smoothing along the skin before he closes the space and Bucky and Steve are kissing right in front of you. 

Its gentle for a few seconds, hesitant on both parts before Steve’s reaching out, hands clutching the material of Bucky's shirt, pulling him forward, pulling him closer. 

Their kiss was rougher, all tongue and teeth and the sight was a lot to try to handle, all you could really do was squeeze your thighs together and enjoy the sight of your two favourite boys, enjoying how eachother kiss. 

Bucky detaches his mouth from Steve's to meet your eye, pulling you closer as his hand holds the side of your neck.

He kisses you, open-mouthed and needy as his tongue glides across your lip, steve groaning softly at the sight, his hand once again hovering over the curve of your waist.

"It's okay, Steve." You murmur against Bucky's lips before you pull back to look at Steve, gripping his hand with your own and guiding him to touch you where he had wanted to, "You can touch me. You can touch me anywhere you'd like. Both of you." 

"Fuckin’ Christ, doll." Bucky sighs, lips mouthing across your jaw, his head dipping lower to kiss your neck, "You want that huh? Want both of us to touch you?" 

You nod as you kiss Steve, Bucky giving you a hickey just below your ear like a goddamn teenager. Bucky makes his way to Steve's neck then, curious to what noises he could pull from Captain America himself, and he chuckles against Steve's neck when he sighs softly into your mouth, as sensitive and worked up as Bucky had always wondered he'd be. 

When Bucky and Steve start kissing again, you take the opportunity to catch your breath, sitting back for a moment to watch the way Bucky pushes Steve down against the mattress, everything escalating so quick and yet feeling exactly like the way it should be. He adjusts his hips over Steve, pressing against him, and Steve groans softly, his rising up to meet bucky’s.

You bite your lip at the sight, your hand almost subconsciously sliding between your thighs, applying slight pressure against your underwear as your thighs squeeze together again. 

It just feels so right, and your body is reacting like it never has before, all reservations out of the window when you fingers press against your clit ever so slightly, breath catching when Bucky starts talking.

"Y'see that Stevie? Look how desperate our girl is for us. She just has to touch herself, doesn't she? Think we should help her out?" He murmurs, speaking the words into Steve's ear, though saying them loud enough for you to hear them too, and Steve nods quickly, no more hesitation, panting for breath, lips a pretty shade of kissed.

Our girl. 

"God, yes." Steve answers.

Their attention turns to you, Bucky with that mischievous, knowing glint in his eye, "Why don't you help her out of that dress, Stevie."

Steve nods, following orders like this was a part of his training, moving closer towards you, more confident though a bit sheepish.

"Go on, honey." You say to him, kissing his jaw as his fingers brush against the zipper at the back of the dress. He somehow manages to unzip you as slow as physically possible, fingers dusting along your back in a way that brings on a shiver. He finally pulls the dress off over your head and Bucky gives a low whistle at the sight of you, their pretty lady just in her undergarments.

Your head tilts back when Bucky leans towards you and kisses your collarbone, the kisses trailing lower and lower until he was kissing across the tops of your breasts. You sigh at the sensation, loving the attention on you but it doesn’t seem vert fair you’re in your bra and panties only and these two were fully dressed. You tug at both Steve and Bucky's shirts until they get the hint and both start pulling them off, Steve's going over his head while you help Bucky undo the buttons on his. 

From then on the clothes seem to keep coming, and you chuckle softly as Steve helps Bucky unbuckle his belt and pull his pants off. It doesn't take long before they're both left in only their underwear, and neither you nor Bucky give Steve the chance to blush or second guess anything when you lean towards him, kissing his shoulder and Bucky kissing his lips. 

You'd think it would be overwhelming, but god it just feels so right. 

You hum as fingers drift across you back to the clasp of your bra, Bucky looking at you, waiting for your permission, which you quickly give, nodding your head breathlessly before he quickly undoes the clasp, helping you out of the straps and then finally pulling the bra away. 

"Fu-" Steve stops himself, staring down at your uncovered breasts, your peaked nipples, soft pretty skin, waiting desperately to be touched and he forces himself to close his eyes, convinced for a second that that was it, he was going to come right here and now in his briefs. Bucky chuckles, that cheeky grin on his face as he dips his head and kisses his way across your now bare chest, cupping your left breast gently and mouthing over your nipple, smirking as your fingers thread through his hair, swirling his tongue.

"I think we're corrupting our sweet little Stevie, love," Bucky murmurs, and you hum back at him, looking over at the blonde who sits in amusing deep concentration, trying desperately hard not to lose himself. 

"I don't know, Buck. I reckon Stevie's much less innocent than you think. Plus, he's not so little anymore..." You tease, knowing he’s listening, so you reach over, your palm against Steve's thigh, "Why don't you show us, honey? Get out of that head of yours, and come play with me and Buck."

Even Bucky groans at that, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he continues to kiss you with a bit more hunger now.

Steve looks wrecked already, opening his eyes to look down at the two of you, skin against skin, waiting for him to come back to you. 

"Why don't you tell us what you want, Steve?" You ask him, moaning softly when Bucky rubs his thumb over one of your nipples.

"I want.." He licks his lips, looking down your body, eyes lingering on the one place you’re still covered, "I want to touch you." 

"Then touch me, Stevie." You respond and his hand drifts slowly to your thigh, Bucky still busy paying attention to your chest.

Steve's fingertips brush against the edge of your underwear, looking up at you for reassurance, "Even here?"

You sigh when Bucky grazes his teeth across your skin, tugging on his hair, "Especially there."

"Go on, Steve, I think she's still a bit overdressed," Bucky adds, encouraging him to strip you of your final layer, and Steve does so, feeling his cock throb as your bare pussy comes into view. 

You part your legs for him, your inner thighs already showing how wet you are, waiting patiently for someone to finally touch you where you needed most, and when Steve brushes his fingers through your folds, tentatively exploring, nudging against your swollen clit as he did so, you moan openly. 

Bucky leans back, looking down at you laid out across the mattress, completely bare beneath them as you lift your hips to meet Steve's hand, needing more pressure. Bucky reaches down for Steve's hand, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as he assists him. 

"Touch her right here with more pressure. Make small circles." Bucky directs, and Steve gladly follows the instructions given, watching as you get more and more breathless as he touches you, his fingers getting covered in your slick as you whimper softly, "Just like that, Steve."

Steve bites his lip at Bucky praising him like that, his cock throbbing so hard in his briefs as he focuses on trying to make you feel good, before Bucky takes a hold of Steve's fingers, guiding them lower and lower until they were sliding into you. You gasp softly, head tilting back at the slight relief of no longer being empty, but you’re still no way near full, needing more and more, still, you enjoy this, shifting your hips as Bucky instructs Steve to curl his fingers. 

A pretty sounding moan slips from your open mouth when Bucky really starts participating, leaning on one arm as the other hand moves down to you, his thumb almost softly rubbing over your clit, watching in gentle awe and focus as him and Steve’s hands take good care of you, Steve's two fingers fucking into you as Bucky builds a steady rhythm on your clit. It doesn’t take long of the repeated pattern before your hips roll forward unknowingly, getting closer and closer to coming, the heat in your body rising, every nerve tingling... so close.

"James, I'm-- Fuck, Stevie." You moan, enjoying having two names to beg to, feeling your body tighten up as they both continue until you’re over the edge, coming on your best friend's fingers, your body vibrating as they ease you through the strong orgasm, Bucky not stopping until you reach down and gently move his hand away, bordering on overstimulation as your body becomes overly sensitive. 

"Holy fuck." Steve murmurs, and Bucky laughs at him, nudging his arm.

"Language." He teases. 

"Shut up, punk." Replies Steve, pushing Bucky’s shoulder back. You lay there catching your breath, humming with a gentle smirk as you watch them act so casual after both giving you the best orgasm of your life, so far.

"God, just make out already." You joke, grinning at the two, your body relaxed, and Bucky gives you a look as you sit up. 

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you." He nips at your shoulder, and you roll your eyes playfully, enjoying seeing him like this again, the happiest and most like himself you'd seen him in weeks, "Good, thing I'd like that too. Steve?" 

Steve looks over at Bucky, nodding and moving closer to him, kissing softly.

You give yourself a moment to gather yourself, catching your breath, relaxing in the afterglow of the first orgasm you’ve had in a while, admiring them for a short while, and then eventually joining them, kissing across Bucky's shoulder, raking your nails through Steve's hair. 

"Think Stevie's ever had someone's mouth on him before?" You murmur into Bucky's ear, feeling pride in the sigh he gives in response, pulling away from Steve's mouth, humming against your skin as he leans into you, head laid back against your shoulder, nose tucked against your neck.

Steve just couldn’t stop staring, his erection straining against his underwear, both of you watching him with those eyes. None of it feels quite real, like it’s all too good to be true, yet so much better than he imagined. He groans softly when Bucky moves his hand down, watching him as he presses his palm against his cock over the fabric.

"How 'bout it, Stevie? Think you could handle someone's mouth on your cock?" God, the words are so obscene, yet so natural as they fall from Bucky’s lips, Steve all but whimpers when the both of you start kissing on his neck, "Ever done that before, Steve?"

He shakes his head, hands reaching to touch both of them in any way he can, "God, please."

"Not God, angel." Bucky starts, the pet name rolling off his lips, smooth as butter, sweet as honey, "Just us."

His briefs were off, his cock springing up when it was finally released from the far too tight confines of his underwear. Bucky leans forward, kissing Steve as he guides him to lay back on the mattress, hovering over him. 

The sight couldn’t be more mouth-watering, his cock a deep shade of pink as he leaks pre-cum onto his stomach, so desperate, kissing Bucky back like his life depended on it. 

His stomach tightens when you start kissing your way down his chest until you finally reached the tip of his cock, wrapping a hand around the base, kissing the tip, hearing Steve moan into Bucky’s mouth.

You lick along the underside of his shaft, swirling your tongue over the head and liking the salty taste it left you with. Steve’s an utter mess, bucking his hips and squirming beneath you and Bucky when you finally put your mouth around him, no longer having the focus to continue kissing Bucky, instead just letting his head fall back against the pillows, breath laboured and heavy as you start to suck. 

"C'mon, sweetheart. You can go deeper than that." Bucky purrs, tilting his head as you look up at him through your lashes, and you pull off of Steve, using your hand to make lazy strokes up and down his cock, shaking your head at the brunette.

"He's so big, Bucky," You bite your lip, and Steve whimpers softly at your compliment, watching as you fake a look of innocence, giving Bucky those doe eyes as you brush your thumb across the tip of Steve's cock. "D'you wanna taste him, Buck?"

Bucky already knows the answer to that, his cock was throbbing at the sight of you and Steve alone, but he glances up to Steve, meeting his distracted gaze and waiting for some sort of permission, which was given almost immediately, Steve frantically nodding his head. 

Bucky smirks, winking at you as he adjusts himself on the bed, moving beside you, giving your lips a chaste kiss before lowering his head, your hand still holding his cock for Bucky to enjoy, his tongue circling the head just as you were doing only seconds ago, as you continue to stroke Steve's remaining length while Bucky starts to take him deeper into his mouth. 

Steve couldn't hold back on the sounds he’s making, he's never been so vocal, never been so sensitive to touch, but he can’t help himself, Bucky's mouth felt so warm, so wet, and when he opens his blue eyes to look down at the two of you, he know he wont last much longer. 

You bend your head down when Bucky comes up for air, tracing your tongue against Steve's cock as you meet Bucky's eye holding his heart-stopping gaze as Bucky started doing the same, both of your mouths on him at the same time. 

It’s filthy, an act of sin no doubt you'll never come back from, but you wouldn’t want to anyway, humming when Steve starts panting, his abs constricting, you wrap your lips around the tip, pumping his cock with your hand until his cum filled your mouth, hearing the deep groan that reverberated through his chest as he came.

You swallow as you pulled away and a hand finds its way to your neck, Bucky pulling you closer. “No fair, you’re supposed to share, sweet girl.” He chastises softly, almost pouting, before he closes the gap to capture your lips with his own, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He moans softly at the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue, the pretty sound so perfect on your ears, only reminding you that Bucky was yet to be touched, focusing on yours and Steve's pleasure instead of his own. How very like him.

You rest your hand on his stomach as you kiss him back, gliding your fingers lower and lower until you reach the waistband of the underwear that he was still somehow wearing. You ping the elastic against his skin, smiling into the kiss when he only leaned closer. 

He shudders as your hand finally slides past the band, wrapping around his cock and pulling him out. Neither of you made any move to remove his underwear, you both knew he was far too gone, too desperate to wait any longer, so you squeeze the base of his cock, pulling away from the kiss only to look at him.

Hair mussed, light eyes the darkest you'd ever seen them, as he watches every little move you make for him, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed pink. He finally looks as wrecked as Steve, who was still getting over the fact that he just came in his best friend's mouth. 

You move your hand slowly at first, stomach fluttering with every strangled moan that caught in Bucky's throat, "You're all talk, ain't you Buck?" 

"Fuck, doll- please- I need to come." He groans, eyes fluttering shut when you kiss his neck, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, arm wrapping around your waist.

"You look as desperate as our Stevie right now, James." You tease, but still speed up your hand for him, swirling your thumb across the slit to hear his breath hitch in his throat. 

Bucky looks over at Steve then, giving a light-hearted scoff at the sight of him rock hard again, stroking slowly at his cock as he enjoys the show in front of him. 

"Fuckin' super soldier." Bucky laughs, laying his cheek on your shoulder, groaning softly as his eyes flutter closed.

You can tell how close he is, moving his head to tuck right into the crook of your neck, talking himself away like he tends to do, "Fuck, feels so good, sweetheart. 'M so close- Never felt this good before, doll." 

You were used to his nicknames by now, years of him calling you 'doll' more than he used your actual name usually had you rolling your eyes, but now, like this, it makes your stomach flutter. 

It wasn't much longer till he was coming onto both of your stomachs, hot spurts painting your skin as Bucky's hips twitched forward with every second he comes, groaning as you continue to stroke him.

Steve follows yet again not long after, and a glance over to him laid against the headboard with his abdomen covered in his own spend has you blushing, never mind the fact that he'd just had his fingers inside you, and his cock in your mouth. 

Bucky quickly cleans up your stomach with his discarded shirt, along with his own before he tosses it to Steve with a chuckle. 

You’re all glowing, surprised by the complete lack of awkwardness despite all the things that had just happened in Bucky's hotel room. Instead, you all huddle together on the bed, your head laid on Steve's shoulder as Bucky rested his on your stomach, your fingers naturally finding themselves threading through his hair. 

"Well, that was fucking amazing," Bucky murmurs, a content smile on his face as he looks over at you and Steve, his arms around your waist.

"Yeah, it was." Steve agrees, moving one of his hands through Bucky's hair too, before draping his arm above your head. 

You go quiet for a moment, the afterglow not quite enough to keep the anxiety at bay anymore, "I just wish we'd done this earlier."

They know what you mean, they know what you’re insinuating, and the room falls silent. None of you could deny the dangers, the uncertainty ahead of you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy the time you had up until that moment you’d all have to risk everything again.

"We can't think like that, baby," Bucky speaks first, his voice soft, gentle and yet serious, "I know it's hard not to, but we can't focus on the regrets. If anything, we just need to live the best we can with what we've got... and if I've got you two, I don't need anything else."

You nod, pressing your face into Bucky’s hair, although you can’t see Steve's face, you know that he agrees, his fingers brushing against your arm affectionately. 

"Bucky's right. Let's just enjoy this, lord knows we've all been pining for each other for years." 

You chuckle softly, having needed this soft moment for a long while, feeling warm and loved between them, hoping they feel it too.

[shotmrmiller]

You don't need anyone else but us.

TW: implied dub-con, drug usage.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.1K

A/N: Im biting my knuckles at the idea of you going on a date with this guy at some restaurant, and the bum slips some aphrodisiac into your drink :)

It started small, with symptoms so faint they were barely discernible. Fanning yourself with your hand, you hoped to keep the beads of sweat forming at the nape of your neck from ruining your perfectly coiffed hair. 

“Is it just me or is it hot in here?” you asked your date with a flustered, timid smile. 

“No, I feel fine, but you do look a bit rosy. You alright?” As you give him a reassuring nod, a striking hum passes through your body, like a raindrop rippling still water, and every wave shoots arousal straight to your core. 

He reached across the table to grasp at your wrist, bringing you closer to him so he could press a cool hand to your burning forehead. “You’re burning up, sweets. Maybe it’s time we take you home, hm?” You try to stammer out a response, but fire is pooling in your belly, making it hard to think. He quickly raises his hand, and gestures for the tab, then changes seats to be right next to you. “I’ve got you.” The fabric of his long sleeve grazes your uncovered back as he pulls you flush against him with his arm, and every shift of it scrapes at your nerve endings.

The pants that escape your mouth sound deafening in your ears, every twitch of your muscles amplified. It hurts, and even then, the edges of that pain are blurring, twisting into scalding pleasure. Your cheek feels the vibrations of his voice as your head rests in the hollow of his throat, and with the last of your lucidity, you catch the tail end of the conversation between your date and the server.

“— she’s had too much to drink, I’m afraid,” and through fogging vision, you observe as he hands the server the two wine glasses, remnants of red liquid at the bottom— but he had finished his wine and the rest of yours. “Have a good evening.”

He moves to get up, scooping you in his arms, and you’re powerless in your vulnerable state, body listless against his, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Before you know it, you’re being practically carried out the door, frosty air nipping at your feverish skin. Your date bends his legs to hook his arm under your knees, and with a grunt, picks you up in a cradle carry. Head lulling on his chest, a pathetic whimper slips past your lips at the smell of him and his cologne that you had formally thought was overpowering.

“I know, sweets. We’re going to my flat, and I’ll take good care of you there.” But as he approaches his car, you’re abruptly wrenched from his arms, an unmistakable voice speaks up, tone harsh, severe. 

“She’s not goin’ anywhere with you.” Simon?

Simon gently lowers you onto your wobbly legs, allowing you to steady yourself against the car. The freezing surface of it stings, a raw sensation surges through your body, and a sibilant hiss escapes your mouth. 

Simon steps away, and Johnny takes his place, cupping your face. You let out a soft moan at the contrast of his chilly hands on your burning skin. “Hey,” he softly says, “you a’right?” Your peripheral vision catches a flurry of quick movements, making you instinctively turn your head, but Johnny’s hands exert a gentle force, keeping your head locked in position, fixated on him.

“Eyes on me, bonnie.” Johnny’s hands lower, trailing down to your neck, cool fingers enveloping your throat, and this time, you mewl. Loudly. “Och, I ken, i ken. We’ll be home in no time, hm? Simon’s just takin’ out the trash.” 

Johnny’s thumb traces soothing circles against your fluttering pulse, and you whine when you imagine those circles being drawn on your throbbing clit, how euphoric it would feel. Maybe it would assuage the liquid fire in your veins— satiate the need to be filled, stretched.

“A’right hen, we’re takin’ ye to my house, gotta keep an eye on ye.” Johnny lifts you into a side carry, effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing. “It’ll be over soon.” God, you hoped so.

Placing you on his bed, Johnny takes off your heels and sits by your side, holding your hand in his. “How ye doin’?” Blinking, you thickly swallow and realize that your mind is clearer than it was at the restaurant. “Better, I think.” 

Johnny hums, and turns to Simon. “Can ye get her a glass o’ water?” Simon looks at you, then flicks his gaze to Johnny, and slowly dips his head, before pivoting to leave. “Just rest, hen, I think that dunderheid spiked yer drink. I told ye he was nae good, but nae, the lass is grown, she can make her own decisions, hm?” Johnny reaches out to caress your sweaty forehead and drags his roughened knuckles across your cheekbone. 

With a gentle touch, you reach up and firmly press his hand against your cheek, nuzzling it, and holding his gaze. “I’m too dependent on you,” and Simon walks in, a glass of water in hand, and your eyes shift towards him, “the both of you. One day, you’ll both move on, and,” your voice trembles, choked with emotion, as tears gather in your eyes, “I’ll be left behind and—” Simon’s deep timbre voice cuts off your outburst with a stern tone. 

“Enough.” Johnny gives Simon a reprimanding look, and takes the glass, handing it to you. 

“What Simon means t’say, is that yer haverin’, hen. Go on, drink yer water. All of it, gotta rehydrate, a’right?” As you knocked back the cup, you remained oblivious to them sharing a meaningful look, and Simon giving an imperceivable nod, one that Johnny reciprocated. 

Carefully setting down the glass on the nightstand, you get cozy under the covers, breathing in his comforting scent, eyes sliding shut. Johnny pats your leg once and whispers, “Get some rest, hen. We’ll be outside, call if ye need anythin’.” A sluggish tip of your head is his only response, and without a sound, the two men exit the room.

Johnny casually rests his weight on the kitchen island, absentmindedly scratching his arm. “How’d ye get that bawbag to use the drug?” Simon shrugs nonchalantly, and says, “A little persuasion.” Johnny hums low, and after a pause, questions, “And how long will it take fer the drug in the water to take effect?” 

“I gave her room temperature water,” Simon chuckles, “I say 5 minutes, give o’ take.” 

In a matter of moments, the distinct sound of your high-pitched keens and mewls reached their ears, causing them to exchange a knowing look.“Heads er tails?” Johnny asks, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Simon removes his mask, running his fingers through his tousled hair, and states, “Tails and the winner gets to come in her first.” 

They shake on it. 

A/N: i was told to make a pt.II by my moot @rookiesbookies so I GUESS I WILL. set under the cbf! johnny x ghost au.

[ciaoteamo]

can i convince you to write gn!reader with francis mosses? but like… the kicker is a weird one… he’s lactating (can either be a usual occurrence or a weird situation for them) and asks the reader to help

Gøt Milk?

pairings: Milkman x reader

summary: anons request of course!

warning: 18+ content

“oh, you’re back again i see” You tilt your head to the man opposite of you.

“miss me?” He asks.

“how have you not been killed yet?” Usually doppelgängers couldn’t hang around for too long as the same thing, otherwise people get suspicious and report them.

“i have my ways… are you gonna let me in easy this time? or do i need to show up your D.D.D. douchebags again” He questions.

“well, you know i can never make anything easy for you… what’s on your shirt?” You ask, seeing wet spits welling up right where you assume his nipples are.

“huh? damn it” He rolls his eyes once he realizes.

“is this some sort of abnormality?” You ask.

“you humans swear you know everything” He mumbles.

“well, is it?” You smirk.

“whatever, yes. just help me get rid of it i’ve been dealing with this shit for weeks now after you” He huffed.

“after me? you were the horny bastard that came in here first asking for ‘help’ ” You raise an eyebrow.

“besides, i don’t do favors for jerks” You shrug him off and take a peek at your clock.

“look, (Y/N)-“ He says, voice disoriented, taking you by surprise. He had a fist on the window that he quickly loosened once he saw you look at it.

“quite the temper you have”

“i’m sorry, just- look im desperate right now and you’re making this difficult for me…” His forehead was on the glass and he looked down in defeat.

“awe, i thought that’s what you liked?” You say, getting close to the glass to catch his eye.

He looked at you with knitted eyebrows and an almost pitiful expression. You roll your eyes and press the unlock button, succumbing to the pity.

“hurry up before i change my mind..” You sigh.

As if you needed something else to worry about today.

He came in quickly, and you lock the door again. You could tell he was biting back a shit eating grin.

He closed the door and stood a little awkwardly this time around. “so… what are you gonna do?”

“well obviously i’ll just squeeze it out… do you carry glasses with your get up? or did you just copy his clothes” You cross your arms.

“well i’m not really going door to door so no, i don’t have glasses” he answers, matter of factly.

You approach him, peering at the wet spots that adorned his button up. His nipples looked larger than last time.

You reach out and unbutton down until his pecs were in full display. You could see the beads of milk forming and dripping down the pink areola.

“oh my..” You gently touch one with your thumb and he tenses. With a little more pressure, his hand flew up to grab yours.

“whatever the feeling is, its too much. it’s overwhelming, yet relieving somehow” He explains.

You catch him off guard and use your other hand you squeeze until you saw the white liquid spray out. He choked and groaned, grabbing your hand once again.

“hm..” You look around the office for something to hold the liquid in. You kept your office very neat so there was only a large fast food cup in the trash can and your half empty hydro flask.

You grab the cup from the can and open your flask.

“we’ll use these. don’t worry about this coming from the trash, it only had ice in it beforehand. but you can drink the rest of the water in here if you think it’ll overflow” You inform him.

“also, sit here. ‘cause i’m still gonna give you a hard time” You wink. “if im gonna help you, you’re gonna help me as well”

He sits in your rolling chair and leaned back in the usual man spread position, chest heaving a bit from what you did earlier.

“you see this clipboard? and these folders? they have all of the information for the neighbors that are coming in today. i don’t know if you’ll need it but you know the rules here.” You start.

“for every doppelgänger you catch, i’ll reward you” You propose.

“and i’ll squeeze these baby’s until their dry while we wait on the next person to walk in”

“that’s a piece of cake for me, i can sense other dopplegangers you know?” He says, finally letting you see his over confident grin again.

“don’t care, like i said, you’re doing something for me in return, and this is it. hope you’re looking forward to it since you’re so comfy about it” Your eyes stare into his. His face goes a little pink and you chuckle.

“…oh lucky you! here they come” You push him out of the line of vision and stand in front of the window. “hi, how are you today?”

“i’m well! how are you” The neighbor replied.

“doppelgänger” You hear from the side. You look at the person in front of you. It certainly looked like a neighbor.

“ID please” The woman slides her ID through and you check to see that her name is typed complete backwards.

You close the security window and call D.D.D.

“wait, so you don’t even need to see them to know?” You whisper to the man in your corner. He shakes his head no and you hum to yourself.

D.D.D. comes to clean and you engage in the shirt conversation they have with you. “alright, we’re heading back now… but, (Y/N)?”

“yes?”

“where’s your chair today?” The suited man asks.

“oh, i’m trying to lose weight so im standing this shift” You answer with a smile.

“oh, well you look great already, so don’t push yourself too hard!” He waved and you wave back.

“that was sweet of him” You chuckle. You feel eyes burning a hole into your head and see ‘Francis’ glaring.

“ yOu lOoK gReat alReaDy” He mocked.

“don’t be jealous, it wouldn’t kill you to compliment me” You poke his forehead.

“yeah? well how abou- mmfuck” His annoyance, now diluted by his heightening sense of ecstasy.

“so much better when you aren’t nagging me” You had the reused cup pressed under peck while you massaged the area around his nipple

You tug at it and watch him writhe with the harsh sound of the milk hitting the button of the cup. With your skilled hands, the cup was reaching the halfway mark and his hands were digging into the back of your thighs.

“please…be a little more gentle” He gulps and his adam’s apple slowly bobs.

“we won’t be getting anywhere like that now would we?” You tease, giving him a quick kiss on the corner of his agape mouth.

He shuddered every once in a while and was sweating up a storm. You were kind of envious of the amount of pleasure these things could receive. He was pitching a mountain top before you, and just as the cup was full half way, uou hear the footsteps of another.

You set the cup aside and stand from and center, leaving the man disheveled and thankful for a break from the near overstimulation.

“hi how are you?” You beam at the neighbor. They slide in their I.D. and you skim over it before hearing ‘Francis’ speak up again with a groggy voice.

“human”

“Enjoy your day” You smile and unlock the door, making sure to lock it back. The neighbor smile’s and nods a thank you once inside.

“another good call, you’re on a roll” You smile back at him, feeling a little excited to torture help his other nipple now.

“i’m glad you came to me for this Franny. I never did get an apology for how you left my office last time, you know?” You tilt your head, leaning over the sitting man with a mischievous grin.

“oh yeah, i’m sorry about that” He sorrily smiled.

“no no no, it’s too late. you won’t be leaving until i fulfill my duty here today “ You pat his cheek.

Doppelgängers don’t have morals, no feelings, not a care in the world. And for the first time, you, (Y/N), have made one feel fear, lust, and regret all at once.

And with a talent like that? How could he ever leave you alone?

-end-

AN: what if i posted tiktoks at the end or start of my asks? idk i feel like it would be cool since tiktok’s gonna be gone in like 8 months 😭

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! sorry it look a bit lol.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

dealer

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, female receiving oral, mentions of p in v sex, kind of shy/anxious!reader, dealer!rafe, no drug taking is actually done but mentions of weed and coke

“tina, i love you, i really do, but im not buying weed for you.” 

“its not buying! ill give you the money, just go pick it up from my dealer for me.” tina hands you a wad of cash, forcing it into your grip.

“what if i get caught with it?” you question, nerves already flooding your system. you aren't a complete straight edge, you're willing to drink occasionally and you've been to a couple parties before, but illegal drugs are way out of your comfort zone.

“relax, it's just weed! it's not like im having you buy coke from him or something.” tina laughs, and you wonder how this wild child became your best friend. 

“he sells coke?” you squeal.

“listen, babe.” tina places her hands on your shoulders. “you need to live a little. get out of your comfort zone. im not saying you need to take drugs, but you can at least go and pick some up for me.”

“fine.” you sigh, pocketing the cash.

“great!” seeing tinas wide smile, gracing her gorgeous face, is the only reason why you actually agreed to this. “he already knows im sending you to pick it up. he says it has to be today and ive got work.”

“you knew id agree?” you question. 

“of course.” tina shrugs. “you're my best friend.”

“alright, alright. good point.”

--

your eyes are wide as you approach the imposing house. you hesitate on the front porch, but ultimately force your hand to raise and knock on the door.

it opens a few moments later, and you’re not sure why you're surprised at the sight of the dealer. he’s put together and handsome, whereas you expected him to look disheveled and strung out, but you suppose that's more of the user than the seller.

“y/n?” he questions, looking you up and down. you hesitate to respond, your name sounding so smooth and silky coming from him. “picking up for tina?” “oh!” you nod quickly. “yes, yeah. sorry.”

the dealer smiles at you, clearly amused by your nerves. “i’m rafe. come in.”

you follow rafe into the house, shutting the door behind you. he leads you into the living room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. you slide onto the soft material, not sure if this is normal or not, you’ve never bought any sort of drugs before.

“can i get you something to drink?” rafe asks.

“uh-” you clear your throat, looking around the living room to avoid making eye contact. “water is fine.”

rafe nods, leaving you alone in the spacious room before returning with two glasses of water, one with ice and one without.

“didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, take whichever.” rafe sets them both in front of you on the coffee table, and you reach for the one without ice, taking a polite sip. you’re too nervous to really drink it, but want to be courteous. you’re not sure if rafe is dangerous, he doesn’t really look it, but he must be by nature of being a drug dealer.

“let me grab you tinas weed.” rafe says, exiting the room again to return a moment later, with a baggie of weed in his hand. he sets it on the table, taking a seat on the arm chair across from the couch, facing you.

“tina gave me $50.” you say, pulling the cash out of your pocket and setting it on the table next to the weed. “is that good?”

“yes its good.” rafe laughs, not even bothering to grab the cash off the table and count it.

“i-i don’t smoke.” you say, unsure why you felt the need to make the confession. “or do any drugs. so i don’t really… know anything.”

“would you like me to teach you?” rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you shake your head no.

“i just wanted to explain why i’m so nervous.” you say, hands wringing together on your lap, wanting to escape the house.

“its cute.” rafe simply says with a shrug.

“whats cute?” you hum, confused.

“how nervous you are. you’re adorable.” rafe explains, making you blush and stare at the floor, muttering a quiet thank you.

“i should go now.” you say, needing to get out of under his intense gaze.

“let me walk you to the door.” rafe says, standing. you grab the bag off the table, putting it into your back pocket, regretting not bringing some sort of purse or bag to carry it in.

you stand up, tracing your steps through the complex house back to the front door. “thank you.” you say when rafe opens the door for you.

“no problem, y/n.” rafe practically purs your name out. “tell tina to call me when she gets home from work.”

“did i do something wrong?” you question, suddenly worried until rafe lets out a soft laugh. 

“not at all, baby.” you want to jump at the pet name, but simply nod and head out the door, not glancing back even though you can feel rafes intense eyes on you.

--

“rafe wants you to come to the party this weekend.” tina says.

“no.” you shake your head. “no way.” “come on.” tina flops onto your bed, batting her eyelashes at you. “he said he’d give me my weed for free if i get you to come.” “tina, no! he’s… he’s too intense.” “oh my god.” tinas jaw drops open. “did he flirt with you?” “i… i think so? he called me cute and-” you can’t even finish your sentence as tina screeches. “oh my god!! y/n you have to date him, he’s like the biggest catch on the island!”

“he is a drug dealer, tina! i’ve never even smoked weed and he fucking sells coke.” you whisper the last bit.

“he doesn’t like his girls to do drugs anyways.” tina shrugs. “it’s been like a year since he dated anyone though, and i’ve genuinely heard he’s a really good boyfriend. you remember lily? she was so sad they had to break up, said she only did because her family was moving to california.”

“how good of a boyfriend can a drug dealer be?” you question, not sure how it would be to be mixed up in that world, even if rafe was clearly small time, selling only to his peers on the island.

“think about it.” tina says. “he has a ton of cash, can buy you whatever you want, can get me free weed.” “what if i don’t want to fuel your addiction?” you question, but a smile plays on your lips. tina only smokes every once in a while, and she is by no means addicted, otherwise you wouldn’t agree to have bought the drug for her.

“please come to the party.” tina says, completely switching the subject. “for me.” she pouts, causing you to groan and lean your head back against the pillow while tina thanks you, knowing that means you’ve conceded to her.

--

“y/n.” the voice that you would recognize anywhere purrs into your ear. you whip around, coming face to face with rafe. “i’m glad you could make it.”

“i came because tina asked me to.” you say honestly. 

“ill make sure to get her her weed for free then.” rafe says with a nod, keeping true to his word.

“why did you want me to come?” you question.

“is it not obvious?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “i like you.”

“oh.” you blush, dropping your gaze down. “um… thanks. i like you too.” you know it's in a different way than rafe was implying, but honestly don't know what to say in response.

“yeah?” he questions, a smile playing on his face, completely ignore the guy who you assume must be his friend as he walks by and slaps rafe on the shoulder in greeting. “you like me the same way i like you?”

“it depends i guess…” you're truly trying to flirt back at this point, hoping your nerves don't give your voice a quiver. “how do you like me?”

“well.” rafe smirks, his eyes slowly sinking down your front, looking over your party outfit, a tight dress that tina insisted that you wear, borrowed of course out of her closet. “i want to get to know you better. take you out on a date. show you a good time. kiss you.” rafe leans in, teasingly close until you're able to feel his breath over your mouth. “and if you'd let me, take you up to my room. show you a good time.”

“oh.” you blush, cheeks surely flaring red. you have to clench your thighs together slightly, and it certainly doesn't go unnoticed by rafe. “i guess you could take me out on a date.”

“perfect.” he smiles, another grin that makes you want to melt into a puddle on the floor. he glances towards the door as a new man walks in, looking out of place compared to everyone else, his long black hair tied up in a ponytail. “ive got to go work for a bit, doll. enjoy my party with your friends, ill find you before the night is over.” he leans in, head turning at the last minute to press a delicate kiss to your cheek. 

rafe walks away and greets the man, his demeanor instantly changing from flirty and sultry to smiling and friendly as he claps hands with the new man, who you hear rafe call him barry.

“holy shit, holy shit!” tina runs up to you. you didn't even realize she was watching the entire interaction, so caught up in rafe.

“he wants to take me on a date!” you whisper-scream to tina, well aware that rafe is only on the other side of the room.

“you said yes, right?”

“girl, of course!” --

“hello beautiful.” rafe smiles as you open up the door. you’re glad that your parents are gone for the weekend. they never really care who you’re dating, having developed a lot of trust in you, but you didn’t even want to introduce them to rafe.

“hey rafe.” you smile back, accepting the kiss onto your cheek when he leans forward.

“got us a nice reservation at the country club.” rafe says, hand coming to the small of your back as he leads you towards his truck. he helps you climb in, not wanting you to fall in your heels.

“im really excited.” you admit after rafe rounds the hood and gets into the drivers seat, smoothly backing out of your long driveway.

“not nervous?” rafe questions, calling back to your meeting.

“im not buying drugs from you, so i think im okay.” you giggle, although you do have a bit of anxiety building, but only in the form of slight butterflies in your stomach.

“i like that you’re not a part of that scene.” rafe says, reaching over and looping your fingers together, resting your joined hands on the center console.

“you probably have a lot of girls try to date you to get stuff for free.” you assume.

“yeah.” he admits with a sigh. “don't get me wrong, i get it comes with what i do, but its frustrating to never know if someone is seriously into me.” you’re surprised by rafes confession, seemingly overly intimate and vulnerable for someone with his persona. you lean across the seats as he stops at a red light, pressing your lips to his cheek.

rafe smiles at you, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “can’t wait to kiss you when i drop you off back home.”

“talking about kissing me and haven’t even taken me on the actual date yet?” you say with a laugh.

“baby, i could take about eating you out or taking you from behind or kissing you. all of them are going to happen very soon.” your cheeks turn red as you swallow, suddenly turning silent as rafe pulls into the country club.

you’re not surprised how rafe is recepted as he leads you inside, the wait staff not even having to ask his name, already calling him mr. cameron before leading you towards the reserved table.

“this is really nice.” you admit with a whisper. you’ve never been inside of the country club before. you had heard that they have a pool, golf course, a bar restaurant area and then the fancier restaurant that you’re currently in, but you never had any reason to join.

“only the best for you, gorgeous.” rafe says with a smooth grin.

the dinner goes by just as smooth as his smile. its a set menu by the chef, but you found everything to be delicious, and feel perfectly filled by the end of it, not too stuffed but not hungry for more. you also feel like you know rafe much better, the conversation easily flowing.

its no surprise when rafe drives you back home that his hand lands on your thigh, even managing to creep underneath your skirt and touch your bare skin without you hollering and pushing his hand away like you would with any other guy.

“about that kiss…” rafe says when he gets you back home, standing on your doorstep.

“kiss and then what else were you talking about?” you hum, already knowing you’ve got a wet sport formed on your underwear just from his hand on your leg. “eating me out and taking me from behind?” “are you saying i can do all of those things tonight?” rafe smirks. he didn’t expect to get in your bed after one date, thinking he’d have to work a whole lot harder to convince you, but you are far too needy to deny him entry.

“i certainly won’t tell you no.” you smile, the grin quickly wiped off your face when rafe leans in, one hand on your cheek and the other moving to your waist, pulling you in tight to his body as his lips devour yours, mouth hot and wet against yours.

you fist a hand in his shirt, needing some sort of stabilization as you kiss for all your neighbors to see, moaning into his mouth when his hand moves lower to grip your ass, feeling the plump flesh under the fabric of your skirt.

you pull away from the kiss only to take a step backwards into the house, rafe quickly following you in. you practically race up to your room, trying not to seem too desperate.

the illusion is broken when rafe finally gets between your legs, having slowly undressed you and pressed kisses all over your body, showing special attention to your chest but ignoring your pussy until he was also naked, now laid between your spread thighs.

“such a pretty pussy for me baby.” rafe coos. “all mine now, understood?” “yeah, yeah.” you nod. “all yours.” you think to yourself that you will have to thank tina for begging you to pick up her drugs that day, and all the convincing shes done since as rafe leans forward, tongue swiping through your folds.

you let out a moan, hand reaching down to grip rafes hair as he moves upward, sucking your clit into his mouth.

yeah, you’ll definitely have to thank tina.

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[foodiegoogie]

epiphanies over hotpot

james potter x gn!reader ✮ 1.6k summary: james comes to an illuminating realization when he sees you do something so unexpected for him. cw/tags: established relationship, james is SUPER whipped, mention of food, but the vibes are cozy and domestic :> also, we acknowledge the fact that james is a little diva !

note: inspired by smth i saw on twitter that went like, “yeah sex is good and all but will u clean my glasses for me when im wearing the wrong type of shirt” HAHA (...will u?) anyway, hope u enjoy reading this!! <3 i enjoyed writing it sm hehe

James has always been a chatterbox. In fact, it’s usually a cause for concern whenever he goes nonverbal. He’s almost animated with how often he talks with his hands, or how his face contorts into various expressions—each one of them successfully depicting his emotions well. 

You had always been a listener; always preferred to be silent, always preferred to just listen. In fact, you were a good listener; always supplying enough replies to keep the conversation going, asking questions so they could continue talking because you’re genuinely interested in what you were listening about. 

This makes James—the hopeless romantic that he is—convinced that you were both made for each other. But aside from that, he’s also a firm believer of the “opposites attract” phenomenon. He likes to think that’s what makes the two of you so special, too.

Presently, he’s in the middle of bringing you up to date on the latest gossip in his workplace that you’ve been waiting to hear an update from. James is, as usual, using everything he can get his hands on—chopsticks, the few empty dishes on your table, paper napkins, the table itself—to recount to you what he witnessed as best as he could. 

Slightly out of breath from all the enthusiastic talking, James pauses to take a sip of his water. Then, when he continues, he raises a bowl of the steaming hot soup up to his lips. But the hot steam causes his glasses to fog, and he cuts himself off in the middle of his storytelling. 

“—Oh. Well, dammit. Now, I’ve gone blind.” 

You chuckle into the glass of water you’re drinking, eyes trained on James’ fogged up glasses, and the massive, goofy grin on his face as he, too, laughs at his unfortunate situation.

But he’s nothing if not dramatic about it first.

James sighs, exaggerated on purpose, though the smile is still plastered onto his lips. “Ah, well there you have it. The light of my life, laughing at my own expense. How it pains me!” 

You roll your eyes affectionately at his little act, setting the glass of water down in front of you. “Oh, I’m so sorry for laughing at you, my love. Will you ever forgive me for my grave mistake of doing so?”

Your boyfriend, still sporting his foggy glasses, tilts his head slightly to the side as he rubs his chin in thought, feigning consideration. 

“Hmm, well, if you’re offering to compensate me in some way… I have a few suggestions,” James smirks.

You let out a snort of laughter. “Of course, you do.” He only chuckles in response, only deciding now to take his glasses off and get the fog out before he’d actually go blind. James was already bordering on the line of being legally blind, and he’ll be damned if he unintentionally made his eyesight worse by something so stupid as letting it get foggy, and refusing to clean it up after.

Most of all, though, he strives to maintain his eyesight as it is right now so he could keep seeing you in all of your loveliness. 

“Crap,” Your boyfriend frowns, stilling as he looks down at the white dress shirt he was currently wearing. Miraculously, it was still spotless. You supposed he was looking down at some spot where he’d finally managed to drop some food on when he continued. 

“I can’t clean my glasses with this,” James says, his frustration clearly evident with the adorable pout decorating his lips. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight of it. 

“Technically, you’re not supposed to clean your glasses with your shirt, Jamie.” 

He grumbles under his breath. “I know that, duh.”

Then, he pauses briefly, and starts looking around the table for a clean paper napkin. “But I don’t really bring the case and the cloth with me anymore because I wear ‘em all the time anyway.” 

You sigh from exasperation. “Then it’s your own fault that you can’t clean your glasses right now,” You replied, reaching over the table to take his glasses from him.

James was already halfway through another defensive reply when he felt his glasses be taken away from his grasp. 

“Hey, what are you—“

Wordlessly, you start cleaning the lenses of his glasses up with a small, seemingly soft cloth you’d brought out from your handbag. It catches him off guard, and his heart pitter-patters with the feeling he always gets when he sees you for the first time after being apart for so long, or when you kiss him silly in your slightly bolder moments. 

As if it was just natural that you were doing this for him, you continued. “I mean, honestly, James. You’ve been wearing glasses for ages. You should know better by now.” 

He’s suddenly feeling a thousand different things, and thinking a thousand different thoughts, all at once. No, he wasn’t being dramatic this time. It was real. This was real. He was currently watching you, a literal angel sent from the heavens above and so lovingly bestowed upon him as his lover, clean his very own glasses for him. 

Just for him. Like, what?

So, maybe James was being a little dramatic. All you were doing was clean a pair of glasses anyway, there was nothing groundbreaking about it. You weren’t down on one knee and asking him to marry you. 

No, no. That wasn’t it. Actually, he may as well propose right then and there. This simple, yet so warm and thoughtful, gesture of yours had single-handedly made him fall deeper in love with you, so much so that he feels it strongly, he’s starting to think it’s not just the spice of the brothy soup you’ve both been sharing that’s making him feel a little woozy, and emboldened. 

“Marry me,” James blurts out with a breathless, almost dreamy sigh. 

“Sorry, what?” 

His heart kind of drops to his stomach at the nonchalant tone in your words, taking it in an entirely different context than yours. But James knows you really hadn’t heard him, of course. It was more like a murmur than anything that had come out of him. 

He suddenly falls over his words, increasingly getting flustered as you hand him back his glasses. He takes it with slightly trembling hands, prays that you don’t notice, and puts it back on in a rush. 

Once a much clearer sight of you finally comes into his view, James suddenly forgets how to function like a normal human being. Instead, he just stares at you in silent, but unabashed awe. 

“Er, James?” 

“Er.. yes, love?” 

“Are you alright?” 

“What? No. Yeah. M’fine.” He replies at once, mashing all the words in one quick breath. 

“O…kay,” You say, clearly suspicious of his suddenly odd behaviour. “What were you saying earlier? Couldn't catch it, really.” 

“Bury me," James answers, unblinking. "I said, ‘bury me.’” 

“‘Bury you?’” You clarify in a surprised huff of laughter. “Why would I do that?” 

Because I almost proposed to you and nearly put you in the hot seat. 

“Because this broth is just so good,” James punctuates his answer with a quick sip from his bowl of the aromatic, spicy beef broth that he’d been wanting to finish since a while ago. Before–well, before he suddenly felt like marrying you on the spot. 

A beat passes as you try to piece your boyfriend’s vague statements together. “You.. want me to bury you… in the soup?” 

“Yep,” He confirms. “I want you to bury me in the soup.” 

“James,” You chuckle. The corners of James’ lips twitch upward like a reflex reaction to the sound. “I am not burying you in hotpot. That’s ridiculous!” 

“I don’t care. I mean, since when am I not ridiculous?” 

You nod your head thoughtfully. “Okay, true.” 

James continues. “It’s just so good that I wanna take it with me to the afterlife. Heck, I think I’m even gonna ask for its hand in marriage right now.”

Way to go, Potter. Real subtle.

He foresees the teasing comment in your smirking lips. This time, he doesn’t know how to feel. On one end of the spectrum, he kind of wants to throw caution to the wind and kiss you until you forget about teasing him altogether. But on the other side, he’s resigned to his fate; and besides, it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the added attention, anyway. 

“Oh, so you’re just gonna ask for its hand in marriage right now? Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I just said.” 

“So what am I to you now?” 

“The love of my life,” James answers in a heartbeat, shrugging nonchalantly as if the answer was common sense. “Why are you asking this?” 

“Well, since you’re marrying this array of—“ You gesture around your table of various dishes of Chinese cuisine, emphasizing the boiling pot of soup in the middle. “—well, our dinner, I figured I must be out of the picture by then.” 

Your boyfriend’s jaw drops, gasping in mock-horror as he clutches his chest dramatically with his hand. You bite your lip to trap the giggles that threaten to erupt from your mouth. 

The two of you continue to tease and play along with each other for the rest of your time at the restaurant then. All the while, James becomes more aware of the little box sitting in his drawer back at home, containing the beautiful diamond ring that he’d bought on the very same day he’d seen it for the first time.

It made him think of you just as quickly as how you, who wordlessly cleaned his glasses for him, made him think of proposing on the spot. 

can i just say that this relationship is the kind that i want 4 myself ,,, fuck 😭 anywayyyyy thank u sm for reading! likes, reblogs, n comments are always appreciated <3

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 2

Summary: Reader is still a little sick and staying hidden while Wanda and Natasha look after her.

TW: Sickness, asthma

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Part two!!!

It must have been a couple of hours sleep before you woke up again. Somebody was knocking on the door and for a second you panicked, still feeling awful and sleepy your mind was working though a dense fog to catch up.

When you finally managed to recall the events of earlier that morning, you felt a slight bit of relief.

“Come in.” You called, your throat scratchy and sounding like sandpaper on glass.

The door handle turned, and you prayed the girls had kept their promise to not tell the others yet.

Wanda’s face peered into the room, and she glanced around until her eyes fell on you, still holed up in bed under the sheets.

“How are you feeling?” Wanda asked as she came inside, holding a tray. She gently closed the door after her and came to sit on the bed beside you.

“A bit better than I was. But not great.” You mumbled.

“Well, if you don’t mind, Nat and I are happy to look after you until you get better. Peter’s been telling us stories about you, now he can.” She begun and you groaned. Drawing a smile from her. “All good don’t worry. He’s a good kid and it sounds like you’re a good sister. And spider-man at that.” She said with a wink, and you buried your flaming face in your hands.

Wanda carefully pried your fingers away from your blazing cheeks and smiled softly at you.

“Now, I made you some soup and Nat’s gone to steal some of Peter’s enhanced-super cold and flu medicine out of Bruce’s lab for you.” Wanda said as she set the tray down on your bedside table. “Put this under your tongue.” She said handing you a thermometer.

“I’m fine.” You said not taking from her. She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Really. Im all good now.” You argued and she still wasn’t having it.

Using her magic wanda floated the thermometer up to hover in front of your lips. You gave her a look and opened your mouth.

She beamed at you and the thermometer positioned itself under your tongue.

“Now what?” You mumbled from behind the stick.

“Now we wait for that to beep and go from there.” Wanda said catching the drooping thermometer with her finger before it could fall from your mouth while you spoke.

After a few more seconds of Wanda fussing with the things on the tray and messaging who you assumed must be Nat on her phone, the stick beeped.

Before you had a chance to remove it yourself wanda had stolen from your lips and was closely observing the numbers on the small screen.

She hummed a low note and sent another text to Nat before placing it down on the bedside table.

“Well?” You asked trying not to pout about feeling left out.

“102.3 still a fever.” Wanda said before standing and heading to the door to open it.

Natasha stepped into the room with three bottles of medicine in her arms.

She came over and took a seat next to wanda who had sat back on the bed like before.

She handed the bottles to wanda who looked at the labels and began taking out pills from two of the bottles and measuring out a red liquid from the other.

“Oh, hell nah.” You said. “I am not drinking that.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You will be.” She said and you frowned, slouching down and glaring at her which only seemed to make her smirk grow larger.

Wanda finished measuring it all out and handed you the two pills and a glass of water.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Fever reducers and cold and flu meds that were made for peter.” Wanda said and you nodded and took them.

Then wanda held out the small medicine cup of red liquid.

“Nope.” You said pursing your lips. “Not happening.”

“If you don’t take this, I’ll force feed you it myself.” Wanda said and you glared at each other for a second before swiping it out of her hands.

“Fine.” You grumbled and wanda beamed at you.

“Good girl.” She said and you defiantly did not feel your stomach flip at those two words.

However, Natasha seemed to smirk to herself about something while wanda busied herself with the soup.

You took the medicine like a shot and scrunched up your nose after.

“Why is it sweet?” You asked smacking your lips together.

“Peter’s a baby when it comes to gross cough syrup, so he requested it taste like cotton candy.” Nat said and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course he did.” You mumbled.

Before you could find further reason to complain Nat plucked the cup from your hands and wanda set the tray on your lap, fussing over the pillows behind you that were keeping you propped up against the bedhead.

You eyed the tray closely. There was a bowl of thick orange soup with a blob of white sprinkle with small green herbs. Along with a soup spoon and napkin.

“Um? What kind of soup is it?” You asked.

“Pumpkin soup with sour cream and chives.” Wanda said. “It’s an old family recipe from my childhood.” She said seeming to lose her smile for a fraction of a second before it came back.

You nodded. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to go to all the effort wanda.”

She just shrugged. “Its kind of what we do around here.”

“Look after each other, she means.” Nat clarified and you nodded and brought a spoonful of soup to your lips.

It was warm and tasted amazing. You hummed in delight at the taste and Wanda beamed.

“This is really good.” You said taking another spoonful of it.

“I’m glad you like it.” Wanda said.

“So, where’s peter?” You asked, striking up conversation.

“May took him home. Nat managed to convince her that you were fine staying here with us. We are happy to have you and if you like that could be a more permanent offer depending on what the team has to say.” Wanda said and you choked on your soup.

Coughing, you felt Natasha’s strong hands pound your back to help you breathe.

Once the fit had subsided you blinked at wanda who was looking at you with concern in her eyes. You waved her off.

“I’m all good.” You begun but she handed you the glass of water anyways.

“Small sips.” She instructed and you nodded and drank some of it slowly.

“Sorry.” You apologised. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” You mumbled, cheeks warm.

“No need to apologise I probably should have waited until you weren’t eating.” Wanda said and you laughed.

“But in all seriousness… you guys want me here? Like … on the team?” You asked and Nat looked at Wanda before nodding.

“We would need to have Fury sign off. Steve and Tony will have to agree as well, but theres not denying you would be a valuable asset to the team.” Nat begun. “I’m planning on holding a meeting with the team when your up to it. But until then I want you to rest and get better. It’s important you put your best foot forward when starting off with the team.” Nat said and Wanda nodded.

“You’ll do great. The team will love you.” Wanda agreed, throwing in her own two cents to Nat’s speech.

“So, Nat how did you manage to sneak in and out of Bruce’s lab and find peters meds?” Wanda asked with the grin that Natasha returned.

As Nat launched into her story, which included a cabinet of medicine labelled spider-baby, a banner-stark debate over what atom is the best and lastly her spy skills.

By now everyone had gotten themselves comfortable on the bed. You were sat against the headboard with wanda on your left and Natasha on your right.

The king bed managed to squeeze all of you in and left ample room for more space.

As Nat continued her story you found yourself listing to one side. Your eyes drifting half shut as the exhaustion rolled over you.

Blinking harshly, you tried to stay awake until a soft hand guided your head to something soft that smelt like strawberries and vanilla.

You decided to forgo fighting sleep for any longer and left yourself drift off.

Natasha grinned at Wanda who was stroking your hair as you laid on her shoulder asleep.

It was an adorable sight and Nat may or may not have taken a photo of all three of you together with you asleep in the middle.

After the two listened to your slightly wheezy breathing and elected to let you sleep for now and to monitor your breathing, Wanda put on a sit-com on the Tv on a low volume as her and Nat settled in.

Over the course of the afternoon Wanda and Nat kept a close eye on you as you slept. Listening to the wheeze in your exhale and making sure it didn’t get worse or require your asthma inhaler.

Once or twice when Wanda checked your temperature with her hand against your forehead you nuzzled into her palm, still sleeping which warmed the witch's heart

You were adorable in her eyes and the glint in Natasha’s said she felt the same way.

At one point your powers began acting up as Wanda wanted to get up for some water and she found herself stuck to you.

She had looked lost and slightly bewildered while Nat giggled and helped her pry you off her.

“Tony says peter does the same thing when he’s sick. They can’t control it.” Nat had explained to Wanda in a hushed and slightly amused whisper so as not to wake you.

Finally at around five in the evening Wanda decided she needed to get up and cook dinner.

As she slid out of bed you began to wiggle a bit, seeking the warmth that had been there moments ago as you had been tucked into her side.

Wanda watched like a deer in headlights to see if you would wake up.

Instead, you simply rolled over and latched onto Natasha leg. Clinging to it like a baby sloth cuddling its mama.

Natasha had looked surprised almost shocked at the turn of events and Wanda hid a giggle behind her hand at Nat’s comical expression before she schooled her features.

It took a lot to surprise Natasha, but you had managed to do it within only knowing her for two days.

Wanda silently slipped out the door as Natasha looked down at you with a peaceful smile.

No longer paying attention to the Tv she was gazing down at you as she gently traced a pattern on your arm.

Despite having only known you for two days, Wanda and Natasha had found themselves almost entranced by you. From the way your nose scrunched up when you smiled to the way it twitched like a bunny before you sneezed.

Peter had kept telling them stories about you and your escapades as spider-man that had often landed him in trouble with Tony.

Wanda and Natasha had found all the walls they had spent years building over their scarred hearts to have melted in the presence of your sunny disposition, even if it was buried under a little sickness at the moment.

Wanda wanted to learn more about you, she always loved stories as a child, but you seemed like the best novel she may ever get the chance to read. And she wanted nothing more than to write the rest of your chapters together. She would be willing to bleed the ink from her own body to write your happily ever after together on the same page. To exist in a world of you and her. To add to the ecosystem that fed her soul. Because she always felt she had room for more un her heart. She had felt love like this before, once before, and it was double as she had laid in the bed with the both of you.

Natasha dreamed of finding someone that felt like home. After so long running from false families and a broken childhood, she wanted nothing more than to curl up and relax with someone that made her feel safe. Someone that made her feel the same way you do when you drink hot chocolate while watching the snow drift down on a winter wonderland. You were the home she was looking for. The way your heart touched hers, reached for her like a magnet was something she rarely felt. Something she had only ever felt once before. With another redhead who lived in the tower.

Wanda finished making dinner at around six. Before calling the team, she plated up three dishes of food and left the kitchen.

Only once she was safely clear and, in the lift, did she tell Jarvis to alert the team for dinner.

When Wanda stepped back into your room the first thing, she noticed was the concern on Natashas face.

Many may see the black widow as a cold heartless woman, yet that was just her persona in front of the cameras.

Sure, she was hard to crack open at first, but it seems she had taken a liking to you almost immediately.

Behind closed doors Natasha was quite a sweet and caring person for those she loved, showing her affection in indirect manners such as little gifts and cracking jokes at just the right time.

As wanda approached the bed she begun to realise why Nat was worried.

Your breathing which they had been monitoring had grown more wheezy.

Nat looked up from where she had been studying your face to look at wanda.

“I wasn’t sure if I should let her sleep or wake her to use her inhaler.” Nat said.

“No, you did the right thing. We have to wake her up for dinner now anyway, so we’ll have her use it now.” Wanda said with a small smile.

“We should also check her temperature and give her some more medicine.” Nat added and wanda agreed with a nod as she placed the dishes down on the desk.

Natasha gently began to rub your arm. “Y/n/n. Y/n/n wake up.” Nat said softly and after a second you batted her hand away drawing a chuckle from Wanda.

“Noooo let me sleep.” You said but Nat wasn’t having it.

You tried to pull the covers over your head but Nat held them down in place on the bed with her foot.

“Would you get up if I told you wanda made dinner?” Nat asked and wanda stifled a chuckle behind her hand as you cracked one eye open.

“Maybe.” You said and wriggled so you were sat against the headboard.

“Good. But before you get dinner its medicine time.” Nat said and you groaned in protest.

“There’s always a catch.” You grumbled and Wanda winked at you.

“For you? Always.” Wanda grinned and you gave her a half-hearted glare.

Natasha pressed your inhaler into your hand, and you simply blinked at her. “I don’t need it.” You said.

“I’m not asking again.” Nat smiled sweetly.

“Technically you didn’t ask the first time.” You said and looked at wanda for backup where she was leaning against the desk with an amused smile.

“Nope.” She said popping the p. “I can hear you wheezing from here bubs. Take it and breath like the rest of us.” She said smugly.

“Whatever.” You pouted and took the inhaler, ignoring them both and looking at a spot on the wall.

When you were done wanda patted your cheek.

“Good.” She said handing you a thermometer you took and dutifully placed under your tongue.

When it beeped Nat’s quick hands beat you to it and stole the device from your lips.

“99.8 it’s gone down.” Nat said with a smile.

“Yay.” You drawled sarcastically.

Before you could even get another word or remark in Wanda placed two tablets into your hand. “Swallow these.” She instructed and pressed a glass of water into your other hand.

You sighed and did as you were told, making both women smile at each other.

As the three of you ate you complemented Wanda’s cooking and savoured the food.

The two women chatted to you about the avengers asking any questions you had. When dinner was done, they could see you fighting to stay awake.

When do I get to meet the team?” You asked over a yawn you directed into your fist.

“Well, we’ll see how you feel in the morning and go from there.” Wanda smiled as she messed around with the pillows. “Get some sleep Y/n.” She smiled and you nodded, too tired to argue.

Settling down you were asleep before they two had left the room.

PART 3

[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life!fluff, smut, slow burn plot, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

————————————————————————

Chapter three chapter five

Chapter Four

“Oh darling look at you! And here I thought you wouldn’t give me grandchildren” your mother laughed as she hugged you.

Your mother had invited you and Alastor over since you had sent her a letter about some exciting news you wanted to share.

You didn’t know whether to take her comment as a compliment or insult.

”Why ain’t your husband with you? I know that man ain’t have you travel here all alone in your condition” she frowned displeased.

”Momma you know how busy Al is. He’s been trying to catch up on work so he can take time off for the baby” you pouted.

She sucked her teeth, before a smile dawned her face

”well that means we can go shopping! Have you decorated the nursery? Do you have a nursery? Oooh honey why don’t you come home when you have the baby? A newborn is a lot of work” she was ranting and you sighed, rubbing your heavy stomach.

”Momma im perfectly capable of taking care of my baby.  I’ve read all the books” your mother gave you a funny look

”books? Oh girl those books ain’t gonna help you. You need experience. Youre a first time mom, you have no instincts in raising a youngin ”

You pouted. You felt like a teenager being chastised.

You knew your mother meant well, but sometimes you had to stop her ‘good intentions’.

”Ill be fine. Alastor’s gonna be there and Im sure we can figure it out. Aint that what parenthood all about?”

She hummed “If you say, now lets head to town. I want my grandbaby to have the best!”

—————————————————————————-

You fanned yourself as you finally sat down. The summer heat was not kind to you as your mother had dragged you to every shop in town.

The two of you had finished up shopping and were now at a little restaurant. You smiled in thanks as the waiter sat a glass of cold water in front of you.

Your mother cooed as she looked over several items she had bought.

You think she was more excited than you and you were the pregnant one.

”Momma I think you overdid it. There’s no way the baby is gonna wear or use any of that” you mused, sipping the water.

She waved you off.

”so…how has Alastor handled the news?” She asked.

You blinked “he’s very excited. He says he don’t care about the gender, but he’s taken to thinking it’ll be a girl” you giggled.

”haha a girl? Oh no you’re definitely having a boy darling” she laughed.

You titled your head in confusion.

Your mother smirked “Your belly is big and low and you’re not even halfway through your term, that means you’re having a boy. ”

She continued “Most men want a boy on the first go. A scrappy boy is the jewel of every man’s pride”

You rubbed your stomach, smiling “Well it don’t matter im sure hell adore the baby no matter what”

She hummed and picked up the newspaper that was on the table.

The headline read ‘fifth body found in canal’

”Such a shame the authorities can’t find killer. Those poor souls. This is the fifth body that’s been found and practically in your backyard. You really need to careful dear” she said grimacing.

You weren’t too worried. All the victims were random, but they weren’t pregnant women. “I don’t think the killer is slaying harmless pregnant women momma”

She shrugged “Can never be too sure dear”

———————————————————————————

Alastor whistled as he cleaned the kitchen. Bright red water filled the sink as he wronged the sponge. You would have a fit if you saw the state of your kitchen and Alastor couldn’t have an upset wife.

You had went to visit your mother, thinking it was time to tell the woman that the two of you were expecting. You had wanted him to come along, but he thought it would be better if the two of you spent some time together.

So he took the time to go hunting. It had been a while since he had a good hunt and he had a taste for deer meat.

Once the kitchen was spotless, he discarded what he didn’t need into a bag. He headed down to the cellar with the rest of the trash.

He tied the bag and reached for the other one.

Hauling it back to the kitchen, he turned on the radio to listen to some tunes as he prepared to cook. You should have been coming home in a few hours and he was sure you would be hungry. It was rather hot today, so instead of slaving too much over the stove he opted for a simple stew.

He pulled the meat out of the bag and began to cut it.

He pulled a pot from the cabinet and filled it with  onions, carrots, and a little water were added into the pot as he cleaned the meat.

As the pot boiled, he plopped the meat in a pan to cook it down.

The kitchen filled with the smell of herbs and meat as he worked.

He added some seasoning to the meat and transferred the chopped meat to the pot.

He turned the heat low and let it simmer.

He nodded in satisfaction and took a look at himself. Disgusting

He was covered in blood. He sighed and went upstairs.

Light red swirled down the drain. Alastor rolled his neck, a soft pop was heard and he sighed in relief.

Once finished in the shower, he gathered the dirty clothes and headed out back in the yard.

He waved to the passing neighbors as thee fire crackled, a pleasant smile on his face.

Once the fire died down, he headed back inside to check on the stew.

He stirred it and turned it off.

He fixed a cold sweet tea and took a seat at the dining table.

His mind wandered to you. He wondered how you were fairing in this heat. He was sure you were ready to come home and relax. Your mother was a handful.

Your pregnancy was coming along nicely.

You had rounded out and now you sported a big belly. His cock twitched in his pants. He couldn’t believe how insatiable  he had become since you had become pregnant. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

You had transformed beautifully. You always seemed to be glowing, though you swore it was sweat. You had become incredibly sensitive, your mood swings putting you both through the ringer.

You had voiced your concern about your image as you had filled out nicely, gaining weight from the baby you now carried. You couldn’t fit any of your usual form fitting outfits, opting for loose dresses.

Alastor reassured you that you looked beautiful no matter what. He enjoyed a little meat being on your bones. 

You were softer and he loved every minute of it.

His eyes traveled to the pot, he wondered if you had ate. He really wanted to see how you would react to the meal he prepared. While you love his cooking, the baby was picking, which resulted in you being sick a lot.

The buzz from the hunt still rippled through him as his lips curled in a smile.

yeeesss how would his little wife enjoy the meal he prepared for her?

He made a mental note to take out the trash later but for now, he waited for you to return home as he opened a book about parenting. 

He should ask you what color you wanted the nursery….

——————————————————————————-

Your mouth watered as you came through the door “What did you cook Al it smells really good”

Your husband chuckled as he closed the book and walked over to you. You were trying to beeline it to the kitchen, but your husband wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to yours. He grinned as your stomach created a space between the two of you, running an affectionate hand over the bump “Well hello to you too my dear. How was your mother? I see the two of you went shopping” His eyes took in the amount of bags you brought back.

You huffed “Yea Ma would have bought out the entire store if I let her, i tell you I think she’s more happy about a grandbaby than when we got married”

Alastor coaxed you to the couch, smiling as you sighed as he massaged your aching back. He pressed soft kisses to your exposed shoulders “I didn’t know if you had ate already, so I made a stew. Let’s hope the baby like it. I read that warm foods were better than the ice cream you’ve been sneakng” he snickered as you pouted.

”Just relax a bit and Ill make you a bowl”

You smiled at him “I want crackers too!” You called after him.

Alastor returned with a steaming bowl of stew. It smells so good and your stomach growled in hunger. “I tried a different meat but I hope you like it my dear”

You thanked him and rolled your eyes as he picked up the spoon and held it to your mouth. You blew on it softly before chomping on the spoon.

Your tongue tingled as you savored the flavor. 

The meat was softer than you were use to, maybe pork or a different beef?

Whatever it was it was good!

”Mmmhmm this is so good. The texture of the meat is a bit off but its really good Al” you complimented.

He beamed at you, pearly whites glistening at you. “Im happy you like it and you didn’t throw it up im proud baby”

You quickly finished the meal and showed him everything your mother bought for the new arrival.

Alastor smiled in content as you happily showed him the baby wares; clothing, toys,and other gadgets. Seeing you so excited filled him with an unexplainable feeling. His hand caressed your belly as you ranted.

”Did you know that there’s a killer on the loose?” Your sudden question brought his attention back. Your face was filled with worry.

Alastor tensed, but relaxed “We had gotten a few reports down at the studio but no real leads. Why do you ask dear?”

You placed your hand over his that was on your bulging belly. “I-Im just concerned. I mean we do have a child on the way and i dont really feel safe walking the streets in this vulnerable condition. My mother suggested we move into the summer house.” You looked down, Alastor kissed your forehead “Im sure well be fine. Besides it seems the killer has a little mortals. No woman has been harmed. So dont fret my dear” he assured you. 

You sighed, he was right.  There was no need to worry.

“I would never let a soul hurt you” he whispered against your forehead.

You hummed and started giggling as he nipped at your ear “Al!!!”

You tried to wiggled away, but your husband softly pushed you back on the couch, being mindful of your belly.

”Now why dont I show you that I am more than capable hmm?” He grinned down at you.

—————————————————————————————————-

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[kitashousewife]

“m’gettin sick,” osamu sniffles from his cocoon on the couch. ever since he got home he’s been quiet and sleepy, cuddling up with a blanket despite being hot to the touch.

one thing you’ve learned about osamu, is that he is never sick. ma always joked about how despite every illness that passed through the twins’ schools, teams, or even work; osamu made it out perfectly healthy. you’ve found this to be true. even when you’ve been at your worst, osamu’s immune system has never faltered.

“i can’t be sick,” osamu’s mumbled voice is stuffier than normal, and his nose is a rosy pink. “i got work in the mornin’.”

“not like this, you don’t,” you pour some water from the kettle into his cup and dip the tea bag inside. he waves you off.

“what? just close shop for a day? i can’t do that,” he snatches a few kleenex from the box on the counter, turning around when you raise an eyebrow at him.

“you can actually, and you should.” you slide the tea over to him before heading towards your shared bathroom. “just post something tonight to give everyone a heads up.”

osamu shuffles behind you, tea in one large palm with tufts of kleenex in the other. he huffs when he feels hot once again, flinging off his sweat shirt as quick as he can.

“but kita-“

“kita can deliver to our house, baby. we can bring the rice over a different day.”

you fold your arms and stand by the bath as it fills. osamu copies you, leaning against the doorframe with a pout.

despite being sick as a dog, he won’t go down without a fight. out of principle, of course.

“what about the special i was gonna run?”

“you can do it next week,” you test the water with your palm before adding some epsom salt in.

“what will the regulars do when they head to the store?” osamu puts his palms up dramatically and snorts when you roll your eyes.

“im heading into town tomorrow, i can put a sign in the door. trust me ‘samu, i think they will appreciate you being closed. who wants to eat onigiri from someone with a runny nose?”

he doesn’t say anything. for a minute, you think he’s finally rested his case. after he slips in the bath and lets out a comfortable sigh, he decides to put one last ditch effort in.

“produce gets delivered tomorrow! i have to be there for that!” he’s comically large in the small tub the two of you share, knees folded up as he tries to sink in. you shake your head and he groans.

“fine, fine. okay. i’ll close tomorrow. ya happy?”

“thrilled,” you place a towel next to the tub and sit down. “you need to rest, samu. the shop will be there when you’re better, i promise.”

he pouts again, but this time it’s genuine.

“but i’m never sick,” he splashes water on accident when he leans his head back against the wall. “i take good care of myself! i take my vitamins, drink lots of water, get good sleep,”

your lips tug into a smile.

“and that will help you beat whatever you have even faster. but for now, let’s take it slow okay? get plenty of sleep, heal your body, and stay home.”

osamu nods, and let’s his eyes close. he soaks for a few minutes, relishing in the relief his achey joints feel for the first time all day. while he gets ready for bed, he can’t help but feel his heart swell as he watches you grab extra blankets for his side, knowing he will probably be chilly tonight.

“i’m probably gonna sore with all this shit in my nose,” he sinks under the covers, propping his head up on the extra pillows you set up for him.

“you snore anyway,”

“do not! ya liar,” he smacks your bum when you snuggle up next to him. “don’t touch me, i’ll get ya sick. i’m real contagious,”

you place a big kiss on his forehead before getting back to your original spot.

“i’ll take my chances,” you listed to osamu’s steady heart while he falls asleep. osamu is always taking care of you, grabbing your favorite things from the shop because he’s thinking of you. carrying you when your feet hurt from the heels he told you not to wear, bringing you glasses of water because he knows you aren’t drinking enough, and never asks for anything in return.

“i love ya,” osamu whispers, half asleep and hums when you squeeze him closer.

“i love you too, samu. sleep well.”