#im standing up and KNOW the moment i go for my water were going to take a crazy turn and ill spill it all over me

[descendantofthesparrow]

AA Ok, so, you had written before a Walter fic with a reader who’s a vampire empress and how she was the one to turn him into a vampire

I was wondering if you could write more about that 👀? Maybe how they fell in love and the reader transforming him?

here you gooo! it was so fun to write for Walter again!!!! its short but I think it serves well enough :D

=

Many years ago, more than 1500, there once was a peasant boy, and a seemingly untouchable noble that seemed to command anyone with a single look in her eyes.

The boy, had a different name back then, but we’ll call him by the name we know him now; Walter Deville, and the noble was who we know as Lady (y/n) Deville, though she had a different name back then as well.

Rumors swirled around lady (y/n), some that she bathed in the blood of virgins to keep her beauty, others that she was a witch, Walter-just thought the gods favored her, favored her beauty, her mind, her power; all of her.

He favored her too.

He caught her eye once, when she had been wandering the village, going to the market with one of her handmaidens, she was a hands-on noble, she wasn’t one to shy away from the people that lived in the same town as her. He’d been working at his father’s shop, working on the stupid overhang that had been breaking over and over again over the last week-the carpenter they had paid had only done half the work.

As Walter worked on lifting the two pieces of wood together, his arms straining in the misty sun, his eyes caught onto a shine of gold, glancing to the side to see Lady (y/n), looking right back at him, her gaze intrigued.

Walter swallowed, suddenly feeling shy, and he turned away-nailing the wood together and dropping back to the floor, wiping his hands as he looked up at his handy work. He still felt Lady (y/n)’s eyes on him as she continued through the market, and he felt like he was a fresh apple in a row of bruised plums under her eyes.

He liked the feeling.

-

“Im what?” Walter asked his father as he finished up gathering some well water from the town well, setting the buckets on the floor of the small house they lived in.

“you’ve been summoned by lady (y/n),” his father said gruffly, looking a bit perturbed. “One of ‘er servants came down, asked for you by name. I suggest you get going, maybe gain the family favor-don’t deny her boy.” His father said and Walter swallowed down his nerves.

He got dressed in his best clothes, which were probably the only non-ripped or sewn back together clothes he had, and made the trek up the hill to the manor of lady (y/n). He arrived at the doors and was allowed in by a servant, and then was led through the dark candlelit home. He felt out of place in the immaculate place, everything was so clean and so…pretty.

Why had lady (y/n) called upon him?

He was led to one of the sitting rooms and the doors closed behind him, the room only illuminated by the fireplace, where he could see lady (y/n) sitting by it, her figure shadowed by the flames, a glass in her hands.

Walter swallowed harshly, standing straight. “You asked for me, my lady?” Walter asked and lady (y/n) hummed, setting her glass down, standing up, Walter swallowing again as she began to walk over to him.

Lady (y/n) was quiet for a moment, her eyes gleaming in the flickering light of the fireplace-almost unnaturally, but Walter was hypnotized by her ethereal beauty, eyes locked  onto her as her hand reached out, her long black painted nails grazing against his chin-making him shiver.

“would’st thou like to live deliciously?” lady (y/n) asked in a quiet, whispering tone that made Walter’s breathing pick up, his eyes going wide. “Wouldst thou like the taste of…butter, and silver rings?” she asked, in the same tone, stepping closer to him-her eyes gleaming red under the firelight, and Walter’s eyes dropped to her lips, seeing fangs peeking from her mouth.

He swallowed hard. A witch? No, demon? Possibly.

Vampire.

He shuddered, gasping a bit as her hand gently curled around his neck. “All I ask, is your loyalty….and blood, dragostea mea.” Walter shuddered again, his eyes fluttering-his mind a fog of could be’s and desires.

Just blood and loyalty, that’s all he had to give, and she’d give him all the pleasures in the world.

“Yes.” Walter breathed, nearly without hesitation, moaning as her blood red lips descended on his.

-

Walter smiled as he looked upon his baby sisters feasting upon the meal that lady (y/n)’s personal hunters had brought for them, deer and boar, butter and potatoes, yams and fish. It had only been a week and yet his family was already thriving under the gifts of the lady-his father no longer felt any sort of way against his son being the ‘personal whore’ of lady (y/n), not when it allowed them to ‘live like the king.’

Walter rubbed his wrist gently, feeling the scarring marks of where lady (y/n) had fed from him just a few days before, she never took too much-just enough to satisfy during the throes of passion between them.

He looked around his home again, his sisters had new beds, his father new shoes, Walter himself had a new wardrobe, gone the threadbare shirts and pants-and in were the new cotton shirts and breathable trousers that never chafed his skin.

Walter nodded to himself, giving himself to lady (y/n) was well worth it, if not for his family, then for himself-because he knew very well he was enjoying being hers.

It was just too much fun.

-

Walter could barely hear, barely see, coughing up his left lung as the rotting bodies of his family were left in their beds. The plague doctors had already come through the village once, bodies being burned near the cliffs every day.

A sickness had come for the village, wiping out nearly everyone-the Deville’s being one of the last to go, Walter being the only one left of the family of 4. He was the last to fall ill, since he’d been at the manor more often than not-spending a whole week there only to return to find his youngest sister dead, and his father and 2nd youngest sister dying, blood and other bodily fluids staining their skin and beds.

It wasn’t long before he got sick to, and now a week later-he was on deaths door, the house smelled like sick and death, the food that had been delivered by lady (y/n)’s hunters all rotting on the kitchen table.

Walter took a wheezing breath that led into a bloody cough, closing his eyes feebly as he thought he heard the front door open.

There was a cold hand on his face, a familiar one and he opened his eyes to see the blurry form of lady (y/n) above him, her brows furrowed. “My lady,” Walter wheezed, shaking his head. “No-go-I don’t- I don’t,” he coughed, more blood staining his lips and splattering on her hand. “Please.”

Lady (y/n) shook her head, looking around for something and she stood, her dress catching on the rotting chair of the table as she grabbed a iron goblet from the cabinet, hurrying back over to Walter and using her sharp nail to draw nearly black blood from her arm, letting It drip down till there was enough to drink once.

“Drink, you’ll be healthy once more-you’ll never be sick again, never be weak again, you’ll be by my side forever. Please mihi pretiosum.” Lady (y/n) begged, he’d never heard her beg before, usually he was the one doing that. He looked up at her with bleary bloodshot eyes, his skin pale and sunken, he was at death’s door, and she was offering him a way out-a way to be with her forever.

As a vampire.

He didn’t even give it a second thought, he used all his strength to sit up and take the cup, swallowing down her blood.

He felt it instantaneously- his very bones got stronger, he no longer felt the deafening hunger pangs in his stomach, his teeth strengthened, his canines became sharp, his vision cleared and his breathing strengthened.

Walter took his first breath as an immortal being, his gleaming eyes locking onto lady (y/n), who looked utterly relieved, and she took his hand, helping him from his death bed. “amica mea,” lady (y/n) murmured in Latin, and Walter smiled, teeth and all. “Come, let us leave all this death behind.” Lady (y/n) whispered, and he took her hand, leaving the rotting Deville ‘home’ behind.

The village burned two days later, wiping the plague from the map, along with all existence of the village.

Only Lady (y/n) Deville and her husband remained to remember it.

-end :3-

uhhhh no taglist cuz its been forever since I posted...well any fic.

[skellydun]

absolutely fighting for my life not to cough on this packed transit car because I don't want people to think I'm spreading disease when in reality I had a nature valley bar and that little bitch broke into a thousand pieces and is stuck in my goddamn throat trying to slowly bring me to ruin

[thebestsetter]

Isagi loves your thighs. And even though he isn't the type of guy to answer "personality" when asked "Boobs, thighs or ass?", he doesn't want to outright say how attracted he feels to them, mainly because he doesn't want you to think he only cares about your body (even though you know he doesn't).

So, imagine how heavenly it felt the first time he got to sleep on your lap. He remembers it as if it happened yesterday.

He had come home after a tough day of practice, in which his coach seemed even more angry than usual and just determined to make the whole team's day a living hell. Everything in him was aching, from his back to his feet, and he could swear he had a fever or something, because his head was starting to throb too. All Isagi wanted to do was get home and lay down, even if it means sleeping without showering (which shows just how tired he was).

"Honey? You're home!" he heard you saying from the kitchen "Welcome home!"

He tried to answer your sweet voice welcoming him home. He really did. But his mouth just wouldn't answer his brain's commands. So, he was just standing, staring at you with his mouth wide open, looking like an idiot.

"Isagi? Are you feeling alright?"

He couldn't even register what he was doing, but the next thing he knew, he walked closer to you. His body was just moving on it's own, as if being as close to you as possible was as natural for him as breathing.

"Sweetie, you're starting to scare me. Do you need to go to the doctor? Did something happen today at practice?"

He couldn't resist the urge to hug you anymore, even though he was trying to restrain himself because he was still stinky from practice and he knew just how much you hated it when he hugged or kissed you without showering first. He couldn't explain it, but you looked so huggable at the moment! He took a step closer, hugging you tight and burying his face in the crook of your neck, innaling deeply and letting out a satisfied sigh. One of his hands was travelling your waist while the other was playing with the hem of your shirt.

"Yoichi!" you exclaimed, voice worried yet still not loud enough to make his head ache even more (he doesn't even think your voice will ever be capable of doing him any harm) "You're burning up! You have a fever! I can't believe it, I told you to take better care of yourself!"

Ah. So he was right. He had a fever. That's why training was so hard today.

"Hm" he muttered, still with his head in your neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment you both were having.

"Stay at the couch, I'll go grab some medicine at the bathroom."

"Noooo, don't leave me here" he said, clearly affected by his sickness. It looks like his mouth finally started to work again. "I don't want to be away from youuuu"

"Yoichi, my honey, you're clearly not thinking straight right now. But I won't go away! I'll be back in like 30 seconds. Sit on the couch and count, I swear it won't take long"

He sighed, but complied anyway, sitting at the couch and waiting (im)patiently.

You were right, because in almost no time you came back with pills and a cup of water. If there was a sport where the champion had to be the person who brought a glass of water and medicine to their sick boyfriend the fastest, you would win, Isagi thought (and that thought made him strangely proud).

"Here. Drink it up" he obeyed

"Everything hurts"

"I know it does, love. What you need right now is sleep. Come here" you said, patting your lap. If Yoichi was in his right mind, he would've blushed hard and maybe even denied at first, but he wasn't. He just wanted to rest, and he always dreamed about laying in your lap. So, he quickly grasped the opportunity.

And boy was it as good as he imagined it would be. Even better, actually. Your thighs were fluffier than any other pillows he had ever used before, and he felt like he could hibernate there. And as if it couldn't get any better, you started playing with his hair. He was in heaven. He couldn't even fell the pain anymore, and he was sure it wasn't just the medicine doings.

"I love your thighs" he admitted, a honesty he wouldn't have when he was healthy, which made you chuckle "And I love you too. Thank you." He kissed the inner part of your thigh to show you just how serious he was about it

"I love you too, Yoichi. Now, rest. We don't want the best striker of the world to be sick all week, do we?"

"If it means getting to lay on your lap everyday, I would be sick my whole life"

"You're silly"

"And you're the love of my life"

"Good night, Isagi"

"Good night, my love"

Masterlist

[maybanksprincess]

thank me later - J.M

pairings: pervy bsf! jj x innocent reader

warnings: mdni, oral sex (fem recieving), pet names, soft dom! jj, sub! reader, orgasm denial.

JJ was sitting laying in your bed, while you sit at your vanity adjusting your pretty pink bows in your hair, as your face scrunches up in a focused expression.

as you get your bows to the way you like, you grab your strawberry scented lip gloss, applying a layer to your lips and rubbing them together.

you turn you head to jj, speaking softly "jayjay, does my hair look good?" you ask innocently, not having a clue about the thoughts hes having right now. about how he wanted to throw u on the bed and give u orgasm after orgasm "yeah baby, looks real good." he mutters out.

you giggle and stand up, walking over and cuddling real close to his chest. he immediately wraps his arms around you, adjusting his cargo shorts a little

this doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you speak softly "jayy..what are u doing with ur shorts?" you look up at him with innocent eyes

"nuthin' sweetcheeks, dont worry your pretty little head about it." he presses a kiss to your forehead, looking at the way ur top showed ur cleavage, biting back a groan, he shifts the way he's laying slightly.

you decide to let it go, and not say anything. you continue to cuddle up to him while he traces little patterns on your back.

jj had stolen your panties and bras multiple times while he was over, the following night he would jerk off countless times into them, getting them all sticky and creamy with his seed.

he would never wash them, or return them. they were his

eventually, you start to feel a pooling between your legs. you dont know what it is, you've never had sex or masturbated.

you didnt know what caused it. maybe it was the way jj manspreaded, or the way hes so effortlessly attractive. but you couldnt help but think what it would be like for jj to help the pooling between your legs.

your lost in your thoughts, and your thighs involuntarily clench together, making jjs gaze fall to your thighs. his lips slowly curved into a smirk, knowing what his innocent girl was thinking about.

"whatcha thinkin' about sweetheart?" his country accent lingering in his words

his voice drawls you out of your thoughts. you noticed the way your thighs were clenched, and you unclench them, letting out a nervous laugh. "sorry, was just thinking" you say softly

"yeah? about what sweetie?" his smirk deepens

you pause for a moment, and look at him with those innocent eyes. "what does it mean if u feel wet stuff between ur legs jayjay?"

he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "means you need someone to take care of you sweetheart, you want me to take care of you?"

you bite your bottom lip slightly, "yes.."

he sits up, and gently pushes you onto your back on the bed. he hooks his finger into the waistband of your cute little skirt.

"can i take this off baby?" he asks gently

you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and he knew that. you mumble out a quick "mhm." and watch him start to remove your skirt and panties

he groans at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him "let me know if this feels good baby, aight?"

you nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth slowly in anticipation.

he dips his head down, and licks a stripe up your folds, you let out a soft moan, and your hands instinctively fall to his hair to grip it

he takes your moan as encouragement to keep going, and he starts swirling his tongue in figure 8's on your clit, pushing a finger in to test the waters.

when you let out another moan and buck your hips up, he pushes another finger in, and begins fingering you while sucking your clit.

you feel your orgasm approaching as the pretty blonde below you keeps sucking ur clit, pushing his perfect fingers in and out of your dripping hole.

he feels your pussy clench around his fingers, and he pulls his head away from ur pussy, chin and stubble drenched in your arousal.

"nuh uh sweet girl, dont cum yet, imma make this pretty pussy squirt" following his words, he sucks your clit harder, adding yet another finger inside your hole.

after holding off your orgasm for so long, you whimper, feeling yourself have to pee. you try and push jjs head away, but he doesnt budge.

"nuh uh, give it t'me pretty girl." he doubles his efforts, his tongue moving at a relentless speed.

the band in your stomach snaps, and you feel a warm liquid shoot out of your hole, leaving his face soaked in ur liquids.

for a moment, you feel like ur seeing stars. your head is thrown back, your hands gripping his hair tighter than ever.

you catch your breath and then you look down at him.

"t-thank you jayjay.."

"thank me later, cupcake."

[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

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in sickness and in health

words: 1k

warnings: doctors office, physical appointment, needle warning!, fear of needles/medical stuff, established relationship, husband!rafe, soft!rafe pregnancy cw

“you ready to go?” rafe asks, swinging his car keys around his finger.

“uh, yeah…” you look down to your own hand, keys clenched in your first.

“you wanna drive?” rafe asks, frowning. you never drive your own car when he's available.

“um… i just figured you wouldn't wanna go.” you shrug. “its just a physical.”

“it's still the doctors, and the doctors make you nervous.” 

rafe isn't wrong, you're not a fan of anything medical, but it's just your family doctors office, not the hospital or anything too scary.

“don't you have golf with top?” you scheduled your appointment for the same time he usually meets up with topper at the country club, thinking it would be a good time to pop in real quick.

“i canceled when you put your appointment on the calendar. do you not want me to come?” rafe frowns.

“no, i do! i just figured-” you shrug. “i don't know, you wouldn't want to.”

“what did our vows say baby?” rafe asks.

“huh?” 

“in sickness and in health. im coming.” rafe takes the car keys out of your hand, tossing them back into the bowl on your entrance table. “and im driving, of course.”

--

“thanks for coming with me rafey.” you squeeze his hand, eyes on the clock as the minutes tick by. you arrived early for your appointment, only to be told the doctor was running behind. “even though im not really sick.” you giggle at how seriously he takes his vows.

“i would never expect you to go alone, honey.” rafe simply says. “now, do you want me to go in the room with you or should i wait out here? i don't mind either way.”

“um… actually can you come in with me?” you ask shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “i need to get my flu shot and you know how much i hate needles.”

“shit, a shot?” rafe leans forward to pick his water bottle up off the table, thrusting it into your hands. “here, hydrate. don't want you passing out.”

“thanks.” you take a sip of the water. rafe came with you once long before you were married to get blood drawn, and you think you traumatized him by passing out right after the needle left your arm.

“do you want me to get a snack from the vending machine, love?” rafe questions, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“no, but do you think we could go out to lunch after?” you pout out your bottom lip, although there really is no reason to as rafe quickly agrees.

--

“and you're alright with your husband being in here?” the doctor asks.

you nod enthusiastically. “yup! i asked him, since im gonna be getting the flu shot.”

your doctor nods, remembering from last year how much you hated the needle. “alright, i will just have you sit in here mr. cameron for a moment while we get a urine sample.”

you feel extra thankful for accepting the water from rafe in the waiting room as you're easily able to fill up the sample cup before placing it in the cupboard.

“alright, the labs will get to work on it right away.” your doctor nods. “will probably be done by the end of your appointment, if not soon after.” 

“awesome.” you nod, heading back into the exam room, smiling when you realize rafe was patiently waiting for you to return.

the doctor goes through your normal exam, asking you questions and checking your vitals, making notes to add to the system later.

“alright, it all looks good. why don't you hop up on the table and we can do your flu shot?”

“okay.” you swallow heavily, looking to rafe who stands with you, gripping your hand and allowing you to press your face into his chest.

“don't tell me when.” you say, muffled by rafes shirt. “just do it.”

you feel the poke and stiffen out, letting out a small sound that hurts rafes chest to hear, holding you tighter as the doctor withdrawals the needle and covers your arm with a bandage.

“all done! you did great. just lay down.” 

you lay back on the bed, eyes closing as you breath, thankfully not feeling the urge to pass out.

“im going to have a nurse bring you in some crackers and apple juice while i get your results back from the urine test.”

“thank you.” you manage to mumble as your doctor leaves.

you blink your eyes open to look up at rafe. “that sucked, but thanks for being here.” you smile, rafe bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips as the nurse comes in.

“i got ‘em.” rafe holds the two cups, allowing you to pick out a cracker and eat it before realizing how dry your mouth is. you manage to sit up, head still slightly dizzy, to take a sip of juice, the sugary drink instantly making you feel better.

you keep snacking until your doctor returns, a stack of papers in her hands.

“feeling good?” she questions, to which you quickly nod.

“yes, thank you.”

“so, just to quickly go over your results…” she frowns when she looks at the paper. 

“what's wrong?” rafe asks.

“i need to ask you to step out of the room, mr. cameron.” she says.

“no!” you squeal, before quickly composing yourself. “no, i want him here. especially if something is wrong.”

“your results look good except for an elevated hormone called hcg. it's a sign of pregnancy.”

“im… im pregnant?”

“yes. the results indicate more than three weeks pregnant.”

you look up to rafe, watching him process the information as tears well in his eyes. he finally looks down at you as tears fall.

“baby… we are gonna be parents.”

you let out a sob, not even realizing that you were already crying as well as rafe pulls you into a tight hug.

“ill give you guys a moment.” the doctor quickly steps out of the room.

“oh my god.” you press your hands against your stomach. “oh my god!”

“im… im so happy.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“oh rafe, you're gonna be the best daddy ever.” you cup his cheek, pulling him back in for a more intense kiss.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ PODCAST ୧

summary: matt leaves the podcast because of his brother's jokes, and y/n comforts him.

warnings: cussing, sad, fluff

notes: this fanfic was a request! also english is not my first language so im sorry about any mistake

୨୧

The day with the Triplets has been a little stressful, specially for Matt. Each time he spoke, his brothers would joke saying that he was being way too ‘depressed’ and ‘miserable’. Or Nick would always answer with ‘Yeah, yeah nobody wants to hear about that shit’.

Now, after they invited me to their podcast, here I am, sitting next to my boyfriend, holding his hand gently.

As Chris and Nick keep talking over their brother, calling him ‘Miserable Matt’ I could see him getting more annoyed, his eyes watering, and it feels like I'm the only one seeing his discomfort.

I don’t really know what to do, cause obviously his brothers are just joking, and I'm not sure how to intervene without making things awkward.

They keep teasing him over and over.

“I'm not going to sit here for like another 55 minutes or some shit.” Matt’s voice getting slowly lower.

“What? What was that? That mumble? I can’t understand you.” The older triplet mocks him, but he tries to ignore it. “Ok go ahead-“

“Now you are ‘mumble Matt’ too” Chris laughs after Nick’s comment. “It's like I can't even understand what you are saying, sounds like rocks rolling down a hill, your voice”

I try to end the conversation "Can we just-" Before I can finish, Chris and Nick burst into laughter "Can we start the podcast?" I try again, but Matt lets out a heavy sigh.

Nick continues “it literally sounds like an avalanch coming out of your mouth” Matt gets up aggressively, starting to leave the room “I’m not doing this shit anymore.”

“Oh come on Matt!” Chris says chucking. They laugh some more as I just think of what to do. I get up from my seat, hurrying after him “Hey.. Matt..” I begin, attempting to catch his attention. However, before I could reach him, he gets in his room, and slams the door in my face, leaving me standing outside. I'm sure this is not just about the stupid jokes they were making.

I hesitate for a moment before making any move, thinking if I should open the door, i’m sorry, but I can't just ignore the urge to check on him.

With a deep breath, I reach out and calmly push the door open. Inside, I find Matt lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Can we talk love?” I say quietly closing the door behind me.

He lifts his head, his eyes red and puffy, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. "What do you want?" His voice defensive.

Ignoring his tone, I move closer and sit on the bed.

With a gentle touch, I reach out and place my hand on his back, offering a silent gesture of comfort. For a moment, we sit in silence, until I interrupt it.

“Can you tell me what has been going on lately?” I ask softly, my voice filled with concern.

“Nothings going on” He sniffs, still with his face in the pillow “I’m fine” His voice barely above a whisper.

I shake my head, not trusting his words. "You don't seem fine to me" He stays silent, I take a deep breath.

I adjust my position, leaning against the headboard of the bed. I decide to take a different approach instead of talking “Come here..” I pat the spot next to me, in sign for him to come closer “Let's just cuddle for a bit."

He completely stops acting rude in the moment I suggest it, Matt scoots closer, laying his head on my chest, his arms around my waist. I stroke his smooth brown hair. I kiss the top of his head. We stay like this for some good ten minutes.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck and whispers with a shaky voice “I’m just so fucked up..”

Gently, I cupped his cheeks, lifting his head from my neck, making him look into my eyes “Matt.. Why do you say that?”

"I just.. I don't know" He admits. "I'm just so fucking exhausted of feeling like this all the time..”

I sigh, I hate seeing him in this state. “Since when do you feel like that?” I wait patiently for Matt's response, he looks away.

“I don’t know.. For some long time now.. I guess I've been trying to push it away, but it just keeps coming back, over and over.” As he spoke, I could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see it sooner babe.." I whisper, reaching out to gently brush away his tears. "I should have known something was wrong." I kiss his forehead.

He shakes his head "It's not your fault" He murmurs "I don’t want you to worry"

I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. "But I do worry, Matt" I confess softly. "I care about you more than anything."

He buries his face deeper into my chest. "I love you so much.." He whispers, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

"I love you too.." I whisper back in his ear, squeezing him tightly.

୨୧

sorry this is so short 😭😭

tags: @muwapsturniolo

[keerysfreckles]

reader who has a habit of sneaking out at night to swim in the lake and Luke catches them and joins🤭🤭

YOUR BLOG AESTHETIC IS SOSO CUTE

not-so-secret — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x poseidon gn!reader

warnings: small makeout sesh, petnames used (babe, sweetheart)

a/n: THANK YOU IM IN LOVE WITH MAMMA MIA I HAD TO HAVE MY PFP BE SOPHIE!!!!

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

being a demigod child of poseidon had it's perks at camp half-blood. most campers respected you and percy, considering you two were children of the big three. you had a whole meal table to yourselves. you had the ability to control water (your favorite perk).

ever since you found out who your godly parent was, it's as if you were one with the water. you felt like you needed to be around it all the time. sure it felt silly to admit, but it's the truth.

almost every night when all the campers are asleep, you'd sneak out of your cabin to go to the lake. you were surprised percy never woke up with how creaky the floor boards in your cabin are. you'd alternate between the same three swimsuits and grab your favorite towel.

your routine didn't change tonight as you were on your way to the lake. the moon was full so it made the water sparkle more than it has this summer at camp.

you were quick to take your clothes off, having your swimsuit on underneath, and jumped into the water. you stayed under the water for a moment. you could breathe underwater, you knew you'd be fine.

some poeple meditate or take naps to calm down. this is your version of meditation. it always calms you down from whatever you delt with during the day. the more stressful your day is, the longer you stay underwater.

no one knew about your secret late night swims, and you wanted to keep it that way.

you merge through the surface of the water, and brush any hair that had gotten into your eyes.

a rustle in the woods around you catches your attention. usually there were nymphs jumping from tree to tree at night, but this noise was much louder than the noises the nymphs made.

you're about to speak, but someone stepping out of the woods beats you to it.

"what? you can sneak off without me now? i thought we were a package deal."

you roll your eyes and swim to the edge of the lake, "how did you even know i was out here?"

you stare up at your boyfriend, luke castellan. he was shirtless and in a pair of swim shorts. you giggled, they were bright green with baby rhinos all over the fabric. he held a towel and his orange camp shirt in his right hand.

"well i checked your cabin, and i guessed the only reasonable place you'd be is the lake. you really think i don't know about your little hiding spot?"

you blush, knowing luke knows you better than you know yourself. he sets his things down by yours before canon-balling into the lake. you swim over to him once he merges from the rippling water.

you giggle as he shakes his head side to side, flinging water droplets everywhere.

you two simply smile at each other before he breaks the silence, "like what you see babe?"

you splash him, "you're such and idiot."

you both laugh as he splashes you back. this continues for a moment before he grabs you by the waist. he can stand in the lake, giving him the advantage here. you hold onto his shoulders, before your hands move to the back of his neck.

you play with the dark curls on the back of his neck as he slowly sets you down so your face to face.

"can i kiss you?" your voice is soft, scared that if you talk louder someone might find you two.

"you never have to ask sweetheart."

you pull luke towards you, causing your lips to crash together. the kiss is full of hunger and nothing but love. you knew you kissed him before you left for your cabin earlier that night, but you'd never get used to the feeling of luke's lips on your own.

you turn your head, deepening the kiss. your bottom lip is in between his, and you can't help but smile into the kiss.

"i love you," you mumble against his lips.

he pulls back slightly, and you could've sworn you saw hearts in his eyes, "i love you."

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere batfam with a sick reader?

Yes but sick reader who is still defiant because hello, they kidnapped you?????

Reader is just glaring at them with tired eyes and a red nose as they once again tuck her under the covers, Dick is highly worried as he frets over you like a mama hen because he did have a heart attack when he caught you standing in front of your open window, where "harsh" gusts of cold air were "attacking your fragile form", so of course, he had to drag you in and wrap his arms around you, rub his cheek against you because he NEEDS to warm you immediately, lest you die of hypothermia.

Yes, Dick overreacts. And yes, Damian will accompany his brother in his delusions, or well, take any chance he gets to scold you.

"You should be in bed, Y/n." Damian said sternly, his eyes narrowed because how dare you worry his favourite brother like this. "Didn't Dick tell you to rest? Are you that incapable of following simple commands?"

You narrowed your eyes back at him, opening your mouth to say something mean but got cut off by your own coughing fit, making Dick rush to help you drink some water, rubbing your back along it. Your throat felt scractchy, and it hurt to speak, but you still wanted to convey your feelings so-

You flipped him off. For a nano second, because Dick immediately grabbed your hand and tucked it back under the covers while Damian's eyes widened at you disrespect, but before he could make any more gremlin noises, but Bruce walked in and Damian knew better than to complain to him about you when youre already sick, cause Bruce wouldve still favoured you.

"Y/n? How do you feel now?" Bruce asked, his voice gentle as he walked closer to where Dick was throwing away your mountain of tissues.

"Im fine. I wanna go out-" "No." "And why not?" "Because youre sick." "You may be Batman, but youre not a doctor!" "I am your father though."

No, youre not. You wanted to say, but knew that would only piss him off and you need to be on his good side if you want Dick and the others to be off your back so that you can escape.

"Whats her temperature?" Bruce asked Dick, who put a thermometer in your mouth quickly. Dick sighed as he told Bruce how you were out of bed and standing in your balcony in the cold just moments ago.

Bruce placed a palm over your forehead, and you tried to move away but there wasnt really any space or energy for you to do that. Bruce's eyes shifted the slightest bit at your burning forehead. "Why do you insist on getting out of bed and sleeping on the floor? Ive already had to pick you up 3 times in the past 2 days."

You pulled out the thermometer and glared at him. "Im fine. Its just sniffles." Bruce's lip quirked a little. You looked absolutely adorable in your delirious state, like an angry kitten.

"I dont think its just sniffles this time. And-" Bruce pulled the thermometer from your hands that you were hiding under the covers. "-dont hide the thermometer from me." His eyes scanned it and the twitch in his brow was enough for Dick to know that the number was too high.

Bruce then eyed the cough syrup next to your side table- its still full.

"Why havent you been taking your medicine?"

"Im not sick-"

"White paint has more color than you do right now. So why havent you been taking the medicine?" Bruce asked and even though he was a little annoyed, he had enough practice dealing with the other kid's rebellious phases to have the patience of a saint.

You shrugged. "How do I know its just cough syrup and not a sedative?" "It is a sedative too. Its supposed to make you sleepy." "Well, I dont wanna sleep and let my guard down in a house full of 5 strange men." You obviously never counted Alfred- hes the only normal one here- except for the part that he wont call the cops for you, but oh well.

Bruce just casted a look to Dick and before you knew it, Dick was pinching your nostrils close and titling your head up while Bruce grabbed the syrup and poured some in your mouth before clamping his hand over it. You struggled to break free, but you were obviously no match to them. Still, tears of frustration pricked your eyes as you looked at them in betrayal and hatred.

"Drink this and dont argue with me, please." Bruce said- well, he genuinely requested at this point.

You didnt have much of a choice other than swallowing it.

With a defiant glare, you begin closing your eyes as your body gave into the effects of the drug, the last thing that you felt were Bruce kissing your forehead while Dick pecked your cheek.

Jason finally decides to drop by the Wayne manor, only to be greeted with the sight of reader lying on the kitchen floor. His heart stopped for a moment- you werent breathing-

"Y/n!" He rushed to your side, only to be smacked in the face by you.

"Shush. Dont be too loud." Your voice sounded like sandpaper against rocks.

Jason huffed. "Well, sorry for freaking out. I thought you were dead-"

"From a cough? Im not weak."

"Yeah? So, what exactly are you doing on the cold floor in the middle of the night?"

"..."

"Well?"

"What? So I cant even take a nap in this house? Jesus Christ, am I allowed to have any autonomy here?"

"Y/n." Jason called, clearly unamused by your sarcasm.

"Fine. I may have fallen and then didnt have the energy to get up, so im just catching my breath here."

"Why are you even out of bed?"

"I was hungry and Im not gonna drink another spoon of Alfred's bland soup again." Alfred made it bland on purpose so that your throat wouldnt be irritated.

"Please stop wasting whats left of your voice on complaints of the soup that you cant even taste." Jason chuckled as he picked you up, only for you to push at his chest weakly.

"I dont need your help. I can walk on my own."

Jason quirked a brow. "If you can make it to the front door without fainting or throwing up, I'll help you escape." You stared at the front door- it wasnt too far, but judging by the fact that its even hard for you to breathe properly and that youve fainted way too many times by just standing for more than a couple of minutes.

But youre stubborn. With great effort, you pushed yourself off Jason and used the kitchen island to pull yourself up. Jason decided to walk in front of you and stand near the kitchen exit because he really wanted to see your struggling face.

You took a trembling step, then another, one hand still using the support of the island until it ended and you were only a couple of feet away from Jason. At this point, you were already out of breath and when you took another step, your legs gave out and the room began spinning.

Luckily, Jason was quick to react. "Alright, just place your arm around mine- or just fall on me, that works too." He teased when you couldnt hold your body weight.

You slumped in his arms. "Just take me to my room." You huffed.

"Alright." Jason lifted your legs up and carried you back up the stairs. "You know you'd get better a lot faster if you just stayed in bed and took your medicine on time. Wouldnt that make your chances of escaping the manor better?"

You stared at him blankly. "Wow. The world must be ending for Jason Todd to be making logical suggestions."

Jason rolled his eyes as he tucked you in bed. "Im just saying, if you get better faster, you'll get to try running from us quicker too."

How do you explain to him that you just dont want to comply to them, even when they're helping you. How do you explain that you dont wanna listen to them because the soft pitiful, patronising look they get in their eyes when they look at you makes you wanna scream and carve your skin out. These are strangers, rich men who just kidnapped you to be a part of their family. No one is that kind. And nothing ever comes for free. Nothing.

"Do you need something? Food, perhaps?" Jason asked. You shook your head. "No, I think Im gonna throw up."

"Oh shit." Jason was hauling his ass out of the room t get you a bucket, only to return with a backpack.

You barely held your puke as you asked. "Wait- whose is this?"

"I dont know!? Damian's?!"

You grinned. "Oh, perfect." You proceeded to throw up into Damian's bag. That little shit just got on your nerves.

BONUS:

"I know you have attachment issues with your blanket but its been a couple of days now and you need to let me wash it." Dick said, trying to tug it out of your grip.

You sniffled and glared. "Im not a child who needs their blankie, Dick. Im just too cold without it and no other blanket can warm me up the same way it does."

"Give the blankie, Y/n." Dick said seriously.

"Its not a blankie." You retorted, but before you could react, Tim suddenly grabbed you while Dick ripped away the blanket. And even though he immediately replaces it with a clean blanket, you still let out a gut wrenching cry

"You'll have it back tomorrow-" Tim starts saying, only for you to sneeze directly in his face, making him freeze.

"And that's why we use tissues." Dick says, wiping both your nose and Tim's face with tissues, while you're not making any effort to suppress the grin that comes on your lips.

[literaila]

I seriously love the relationship between Megumi and reader. He is in fact, a mama's boy lol

But Dadgojo and Megumi moments are cute as hell too

So herw you go a small oneshot: Little Megs would always go to reader's or Tsumiki's bedroom when he has nightmares. He already trusts you enough to see him vulnerable and goes to seek for your protection, and of course you never complain and comfort him.

But this time is different. He had a nightmare and you were on a mission and Tsumiki is staying at a friend's house.

There is only one person left in the house: Gojo.

So, with the greatest shame and irritation in the world at having to depend on his annoying and childish dad, he goes to Gojo's room because at moments like these he can't stand being alone. So he eats his shame and goes to seek for him.

You can imagine reader's surprise when she comes back home in the morning and finds Satoru and your son cuddling together on the bed, Megumi's hold on Gojo's shirt tight as both sleep peacefully.

You swear you are not like Satoru, but you can't help it but to pick up the phone and take thousands of pictures of this rare moment, knowing it wont happen again (because Megumi won't do it twice after Satoru didn't stop mocking him about it.)

honestly you might as well just write the series for me. like do you wanna look in my inbox? you can write all of the one shots currently rotting away (i’m not asking im pleading)

this is so correct though.

megumi’s just not used to not having you home. when this arrangement first began you took some time off, let satoru handle everything (as per usual) so you could take care of the kids. adapt.

when you resume your former busy schedule, both of the kids are slightly thrown off. and satoru too—because he misses you. he’s known the caress of your absence and isn’t fond of the feeling.

and now it’s megumi’s turn.

but the boy doesn’t start having serious nightmares till around seven or eight (despite the…lack of an upbringing, the rotting apartment and cuddling with tsumiki in bed so neither of them froze in their sleep).

when it happens the first time, he sits there, waiting for some answer to come. he’s a quiet, stoic kid—and he doesn’t get scared. he’s not like his soft, kind sister. he doesn’t even flinch when others would jump.

he lays there until he falls asleep again. and he won’t mention it. megumi doesn’t need to worry you or satoru (mostly you) with this.

then it happens a second time.

this time he’s woken up on the verge of tears—already passed that breaking point—and he can’t stay in bed. he can’t lay there and recall images of monsters no child should understand.

so he gets out of bed—but just for a glass of water. he’s still not scared.

though it just so happens that you’re already in the kitchen when he gets there, and it just so happens that you know things about him—just because you know—so there’s nothing he can do to hide any of it.

still, you’ll only tilt your head at him, giving him a half-sleepy smile. “hey, megs. you okay?”

“i’m thirsty.”

so you get him his glass of water and you watch while he takes tentative sips.

again, somehow you just know. the same way that megumi knows that you know.

“are you having a hard time sleeping?” you ask him, after a minute of silence.

megumi shakes his head on instinct.

you’re still smiling. “bad dreams?”

and he could lie—he’s so very used to lying about things like this. megumi doesn’t want people to see him as this little boy who needs their help. he wants an equal playing field, and he doesn’t want to be scared.

but he is.

and when it comes to you, and only you, megumi is a terrible liar.

so he nods, and your smile remains—sure as always.

“i get ‘em too,” you whisper to him. “even when i was a kid. especially then.”

“you do?”

“yup. all the time.”

“what…” megumi furrows his brows. “what do you do?”

“hmm��” you go and stand beside him at the counter, leaning your chin on a hand. “well, it depends on the dream. sometimes they’re… smaller. and i can usually sleep through those ones, but i always remember them in the morning.”

megumi nods; he has all sorts of dreams.

dreams of running around with tsumiki, of going on missions with gojo. he dreams of you in the kitchen, you telling him to keep going. and he dreams of the dark. of a house that could never be a home.

he dreams of being all alone, and when he wakes up, it feels so real that he can’t help it.

he begins to believe that it’s true.

“when i have bigger ones, though, that i can’t sleep though… well, usually i just wake satoru up.”

megumi frowns. “why?”

“he’s so irritating that i forget all about the dream.”

“oh. yeah.”

you laugh. “or i just ask him for a hug. he always says yes. or i wake him up and we steal a car and drive around for a bit,” you add, almost absentmindedly.

megumi blinks, about to interrupt, but you continue.

“sometimes i just lay in bed until i fall back asleep. or i get up and do something else—get some water,” you give him a pointed look, “so that it feels less real.”

“does it work?”

“most of the time,” you answer, so softly. and you’re right there next to him, still smiling. “wanna watch a movie or something? i’ll let you pick.”

megumi frowns. you don’t like to let them stay up late (despite satoru’s many attempts to go out for gas station ice cream at three in the morning). “really?”

“sure.”

and you sit with him on the couch, not cuddling, but close enough.

megumi listens to you laugh at the random movie he put on—something tsumiki likes—and it feels a little bit better. he feels a little less alone.

and later on, just when he’s falling back to sleep, almost slumping on you, you’ll whisper to him: “the thing about nightmares, megumi,” your hand is in his hair and your voice is almost a lullaby. “is that you can always wake up.”

so megumi gets in the habit of looking for you when he’s had a nightmare—the bad ones, like you mentioned. he doesn’t ask you for a hug, or ask you to sit with him, but you do anyway.

and somehow the two of you will end up on the couch, or in his bed, so close together that megumi can’t have another bad dream (because he’s suffocating).

but on this night—the one night where you’re not home—megumi isn’t sure what to do.

because he doesn’t want to be alone. he doesn’t want to feel trapped in his room, and there’s no way he’s falling back asleep now, and why did he forget that you weren’t going to be home tonight, and—

“psst,” a voice says, a little bit amused. “why are you awake, kid?”

almost immediately megumi straightens. his arms cross like it’s a habit. and when he looks to gojo, he’s already expecting the grin. “why are you?”

“i was calling y/n. or she was calling me. it’s hard to be away from me, you know,” gojo is sprawled out on the couch, taking megumi’s spot.

“it can’t be that hard.”

gojo shakes his head, pouting. “are you awake because the guilt from all of the cruel things you say is keeping you up?”

megumi rolls his eyes. says a curt: “no,” and then pauses.

if you’re not here then what…

“what else could it be?”

“nothing,” megumi answers, immediately defensive.

gojo purses his lips, considering megumi. “why do you look weird?”

“why do you?”

“is that the only insult you’ve got?”

and finally, the boy gives in. he steps over to the couch, sitting down next to gojo (ten feet away) with his arms still crossed. “it’s late.”

“that’s no excuse, young fushiguro.”

they both sit there for a moment, staring off.

then gojo speaks up: “you know y/n would kill you if she knew you were awake, right?”

“no. she would kill you.”

“that’s…” gojo huffs. “true.”

at this, megumi lets out a grunt—it could be a laugh, could be a cough.

he doesn’t want to tell gojo about the dreams, he decides. because he doesn’t want to be ridiculed, and he doesn’t want gojo to tell you and then—

he’s not even scared. you’re gone, tsumiki is sleeping, and gojo is… staring at him.

“are you going to answer my question?”

megumi merely grunts again.

“c’mon, don’t make this awkward.”

“can’t. you already have.”

gojo scoffs, leaning back again, crossing his arms in a poor mimic. “we’ve been letting nanami watch you too much,” he says, but continues. “fine. don’t tell me. i can call y/n back right now and you can talk to—“

“no,” megumi looks over to him, wide eyes.

“then speak, kid.”

he sighs, annoyed. at least you’re right about one thing. it takes a moment, but megumi relents because he has to. “i had a bad dream.”

gojo’s face goes slack. “oh.”

megumi feels like crawling into himself, for just a moment, and then: “do you want to talk about it?”

blue eyes meet blue, and megumi frowns. “what?”

“do you want to talk about it?” gojo repeats, but… weirdly, this time. awkwardly.

“um..” is all the boy says, feeling like he should move away. like to his room away. like he should probably find someone else to live with, a random stranger, even, because that would be easier.

“i don’t know, okay?” gojo blurts out, like it was killing him not to. “that’s just what y/n asks me when i have a nightmare.”

“you have nightmares?”

gojo is running his hands through his hair, looking like he’s about to go on a tangent. but when megumi asks his question, gojo pauses. he gives megumi a look. “doesn’t everyone?”

megumi scowls. “i don’t know.”

“huh. well, i have them. sometimes.”

“and you tell y/n?”

gojo snorts, shaking his head. “there’s no telling y/n anything. she just—“

“knows.”

gojo nods, giving megumi a small wink that makes the little boy want to throw up.

“so…” gojo taps his fingers on the couch. “do you want to talk about it?”

“why would i want to talk about it with you?”

“well you came out into the living room looking all… surly.”

“surly?” megumi repeats, with a face.

“down. upset. sad.”

“i’m not sad.”

“people who aren’t sad don’t need to deny that they’re sad.”

“y/n isn’t here,” megumi says, shaking his head. “i could hit you and be fine.”

gojo laughs, again, relaxing once more. because the man cannot be serious for any longer than three minutes. it’s biologically impossible. “i’d like to see you try,” he whispers, and it’s just enough.

megumi falls asleep on the couch that night. he spends another half hour arguing with gojo about whatever he says—forgetting about his dream, the reason for coming into the living room in the first place.

and when you get home, you open the door to the sight of two boys, both drooling.

megumi has his head pressed against satoru’s shoulder, hair smushed against his face. satoru is crossing his arms, face tilted towards the ceiling as he snores.

…it’s pretty obvious what happens next.

[a-ikuoliver]

tw: sfw, childhood best friends, mutual pining, w/c: 0.6k notes: uh I was slapped in the face with this scene so here u go; I wuv domestic bakugou, idc how bad this is it was haunting me

the tips of bakugou's hair droop ever so slightly at the moisture in the air, the blond growing darker in the steam. he adjusts himself in the bathtub, getting as comfortable as he can in the empty porcelain tub in front of your shower, the discomfort of the hardness against him the last thing on his mind as he listened to you talk, unconcerned by discomfort, or the steam settling on him, the feeling of his clothes sticking in the humidity. you're animated, he can see even that through the steam, the way your hands wave about wildly, one at your face as you scrubbed it, the other gesturing passionately behind the glass.

you swipe the condensation from the frosted glass in front of your eyes, "you know?!"

you’re incredulous, your brows down in a scowl as you gossip about someone he probably doesn’t even know the name of. he hums his agreement, content listening to you rant and rave all about the most recent news in your life, and watching your blurred silhouette.

“okay, close your eyes, im gonna get my towel.” your voice is light, not a trace of apprehension, this habit like second nature to you now. bakugou obeys, grunting when you’re safe to climb out of the shower.

he can feel you near him, the heat and steam radiating off of your skin, the clean scent of your soap entering his nostrils, clouding his head more than the steam. you're close enough to brush your wet skin against his, the softness of your towel fluttering against his forearm when you wrap it around yourself.

“hey, are you home this weekend? the old lady keeps asking about you.” he doesn’t care he interrupts your story of the latest episode you watched. hearing your lips part and close, his ears prick, waiting for your gentle hum to reach his ears.

“depends, what are you going to make me for dinner?” you sit down at the edge of the bathtub, reaching to poke his face, one cherry red eye cracking open, then the other. he’s met with your smiling face, a strike of adoration hitting him in the heart at your pretty features, as damp as his from the steam, a droplet running down the side of your throat to the top of your towel tucked into itself at your chest.

“whatever you want me to make.” his voice is softer than he wants it to be, his adam’s apple nervously bobbing in his throat, his mouth dryer than it had ever been with you this close, he’s had you closer; pulled into tight hugs when you were 5, closer again at 9 when you wrestled with him in the mud, his heart starting to race at 15 when his parents made him shuffle ‘closer, katsuki, you guys are friends,’ when you graduated lower secondary school together. every moment since then turning out like this, his eyes darting back and forth between yours, the air shifting the longer you stared at each other, his chest about to touch yours when you respond, your breath fanning over his cheeks at your proximity, “yeah, i’ll be there.”

he deludes himself for a moment, thinking you sound as nervous as he does, thinking your pupils dilate ever-so-slightly the longer you stare at each other, thinking maybe your lips pucker when your gaze falls, when you lean a touch closer, years of tension about to break between you both.

"i'll get out of your way." you clear your throat and stand back up, water still dripping from your body, katsuki jumping back like he was electrocuted by your sudden movement, muttering an agreement, a foreign anxiety settling in his stomach even as he sheds his shirt; sparing one last glance before you latch the door, katsuki catches your wide eyes once more and wonders if they mirror the adoration in his.

[bbystark]

♡ simon is a bad stalker part 4 ♡

badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one two three

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: the date you've been waiting for dreading.

a/n: so i did the thing again where i dissapeared lol but IM BACK plz enjoy my offering

you get home safely, with soap, and you don't say a singular word. just kind of dumbly stare out the window and then at him when he helps you out of the car and into your house.

you can't stop thinking about ghost, and the fact that you quite literally cornered yourself into going on a date with your stalker

you really chalk it up to having some type of third response to danger, fight, flight or say the most ridiculous thing you possibly can. obviously you chose the third.

you go to bed that night with your cat in your arms, as if they can protect you from you're own stupid decision. you're shivering no matter how warm you try to get, and your cat throws you irritated side eyes.

you wake up with no sign of ghost. no calls, no texts, no emails. you try not to think about if he was in the house while you slept, like he had been before.

you try to have a normal day, but you're plagued with anxiety and anticipation

you decide to go outside, walk to the little coffee shop that's nearby to get fresh air and be somewhere you knew ghost hadn't been

you spend a few hours out, window shopping and trying to clear your head. you head back when the sun starts to go down, not keen on being out after dark.

what you come back to is almost comical.

you stumble through the door, eyes snapping to the huge figure in your kitchen. he turns around suddenly, and your cat is in his arms, rubbing her face against his mask. you only see it for half a second before he's setting them on the counter faster than you can blink. your cat lets out an irritated meow, and somehow even through the mask, ghost looks guilty

you laugh, you honest to god laugh. "oh my god. you fucking traitor." you whisper at your cat, trying to suppress your giggles. yeah, add this to the list of danger responses.

ghost straightens, and then you notice your surroundings. there's roses in a vase on your table, and he's cooking, there's at least 3 different pans and it smells incredible and you're dumbfounded. you stare at him, unable to say anything.

"welcome to your date love." he turns back to the stove, and you're grateful, because you feel like you can't move while he's looking. like one wrong move will make him snap and your worst nightmares will come true. you keep reminding yourself that nothing has happened before, and you take a seat in the chair at the table closest to the door.

"um, the roses are nice." you can see him cooking at this angle. "glad you like 'em. dinner will be done in a few." he doesn't turn around. he doesn't know how this will go, he's expecting you to run out at any moment, screaming bloody murder. he's trying to help you feel safe by turning his back, giving you the upper hand (or at least the illusion of the upper hand).

underneath that worry though, ghost was thriving in this scenario. it was like watching all of his fantasies come true, he couldn't help but preen under your compliment, and the ability to show you he can provide

you're still a little in shock. you don't say anything as ghost serves you dinner, your favorite, not surprising. you watch as he rolls up his mask, and takes a bite. it still doesn't convince you of the possibility of it being drugged.

"it's alright dove, not 'ere to hurt you, just 'ere to give you the date i promised." as he says it, your cat jumps onto the table, knocking over a glass of water. ghost stands, and looks down to find all the water had made it directly into his lap.

you find yourself laughing for the second time of the night. here your stalker is, looking like he peed himself. he chuckles himself, and you have to look away when you see his lopsided smile. you stand and grab a towel, temporarily forgetting the situation you were in. it was way too easy to see this as a real first date, awkward parts and all.

"thanks." he sits back down, clearing his throat. the proximity to you was intoxicating, but he was still worried about running you off.

you sit back down too, and take and slowly take a bite of the food. it's delicious, and you still can't believe the absurdity of the situation. "this is really great ghost. really." your voice is small, and music to his ears.

"thank you. m'sorry about breaking in. swear 'm just trying to make your life easier."

you decide to start testing boundaries, as one would. "maybe, since this is going... okay, you can stop coming in when i don't know? like maybe we can just keep doing this every once in a while?" damage control is all you can think of.

ghost thinks for a moment. "i dunno about that one love. how 'bout i give you a heads up when i do come in?"

"no more coming in here while i'm sleeping. and you still have to tell me when you're in my house."

"alright," he crosses his arm and leans back on the chair. do you hate how big he is because you're scared, or because you secretly like it? "i tell you when i come over, and no more coming in at night. but you 'ave to promise me one date a week."

you can't believe you're negotiating with this man. "okay." you concede.

he smiles and pulls his mask back down. he makes his way over to you, stroking your hair for half a second before clearing your plate. "look at us. arguing like a proper old couple already. "

as he does the dishes, you ask him more questions. he's answers as truthfully as he can, leaving out details here and there. no need to startle you.

you learn he was in the military, that the two men are some of the only people he's close with, that he trusts. besides you, of course. you feel like he throws that in to tell you to be wary of using this information against him.

from what you can tell, this is just a severely damaged man. the actions he was taking against you was just his reaction to loneliness, and his need to provide.

against your will, you feel the need to help him fill that hole. the need to tread lightly dissipates by the minute, and against your better judgement, you find yourself enjoying his company. and hey, he made dinner and did the dishes. that has to speak to his character somehow

later, he grabs your hand and runs rough fingers over your soft knuckles. promises he'll call, and then leaves.

and you're left alone, forced to do what you've done a lot lately; ponder your life decisions, and think about the large, surprisingly harmless stalker of yours..

[xo-cori]

ok but get this

ellie is definitely the type to fall asleep while eating you out. gently tapping her head and you cant help but laugh. shes so cute resting her head on your thigh, completely pussy drunk that it made her so sleepyyyy

ok im done.

opiate this hazy head of mine

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: no matter how tired she may be, she just can’t get enough of you.

warnings: smut (MDNI), slight overstim, brief mention of a minor injury, ellie snoozin

a/n: stop this is so cute. ellie b like… eat sleep repeat

Your eyes shoot up from the book in your lap when you hear the door to the room open, knowing exactly who it is before you even see her face.

It’s at least midnight and it’s almost painful how exhausted you are, but you’d made a habit out of waiting for your girlfriend to get home from patrol before ever going to sleep. As much as you assure her that it’s only because you want to be there for her after such a long day, you know deep down that your own anxieties play a big part in it. Every time she passes the gates to Jackson, there’s a little voice in your head reminding you that this could be the time she never makes it back.

She does, though. Every time. Your luck has been grand so far.

You smile as she trudges over to the bed, flopping down onto the mattress, breathing in the scent of the freshly washed sheets. You set your book down on the nightstand. “Long time, no see.”

“Too long.” Ellie groans, crawling up the bed until she’s settled between your legs, cheek pressing against your upper chest.

You wrap your arms around her and place a kiss on her frizzy hair. “Agreed,” you mumble, “but you know the rules. No outside clothes on the bed.”

Her chest puffs up before she lets out an exasperated sigh. “Come on. You can’t make an exception for me?”

“Not really, since the rule is specifically for you.” You gently push on her shoulders to make her sit up, which she does hesitantly. “Come on. The faster you change, the faster we can go to sleep.”

Ellie grumbles as she scoots to the edge of the bed so she can get to work with unlacing her shoes. While she does that, you stand up to retrieve the pajamas that you had laid out for her; a big, grey t-shirt and one of her many pairs of black boyshorts. You walk over to her and slip her shirt off over her head. “Oh, Els,” you sigh, reaching out to see that she’s got a bruise on her shoulder. It’s a big one and it’s already dark, a pretty mix of purple and yellow. “How’d you get that?”

“Kinda embarrassing, actually– I ran into this tree branch that was sticking through a window. It doesn’t really hurt as long as I don’t move my arm.” She shrugs.

You shake your head as you move down to start unbuttoning her jeans, which are just utterly filthy. Blood, dirt, and some other nasty shit that you don’t wanna know about; you aren’t exactly a clean freak, but you’d be caught dead before letting her stay in these clothes any longer than she has to. You pull her jeans down along with her underwear and pass her the pajamas. “I’m gonna go get a washcloth.”

As you walk away, you toss her dirty clothes into the laundry basket before wetting a rag with warm water in the bathroom, then taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s already got her pajamas on and is rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes.

“Fuck, I’m tired.” She practically whispers.

You pick up her arm and run the washcloth over any bits of dirt that lingered on her skin. “I know,” you hum, “just want you to be comfortable.”

Ellie watches you clean her off with a focused care, handling her like a porcelain doll that could break at any moment. If it were anyone else, she would’ve gotten pissed off at how weak it makes her feel. But you aren’t anybody else. You’re the only person who can break down those walls she put up with nothing but a washcloth and a fresh pair of pajamas.

When you’re done, you just throw the rag on the bedside table and crawl back up the bed, motioning for her to follow you, which she does without a second thought. She lands herself in the same position as before, just a but cleaner this time; ear pressed to your heartbeat, sighing contently when she feels your arms wrap around her. “Yeah, this is pretty damn comfortable.” She says, though her voice is muffled by your shirt.

“Worth the thirty seconds it took for you to get changed?” You wonder, the snarky tone not making its way past Ellie.

She lifts her head to look at you with a huff. “You’re a lot prettier when you aren’t talking, you know that?”

You reach up to jokingly push her face away from you, but she takes it as an opening to latch onto your neck, chapped lips peppering kisses across your pulse point. Both of you know what that means, and you’d like to stop it before it goes too far. “Oh– Ellie, I think we should go to sleep,”

She hums against your throat, a quiet mm-mmm that shows her determination to finish what she’s started, regardless of how tempted she is by sleep. You sigh out in both disapproval and pleasure; a hypocritical combination that she pretends not to notice. Before you know it, her hands are sneaking under the fabric of your shirt, calloused fingers brushing over the soft skin on either side of your stomach. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You mutter.

Her only response is a quick bite to your neck, causing you to gasp and dig your fingers into her back, but she’s already moving down your body before you can react. Her hands smooth their way to the waistband of your bottoms, which happen to be a pair of her own boxers, she realizes with a smirk. “Come on. You put on my boxers and expected me to not get all hot and bothered?”

“Don’t ever say ‘hot and bothered’ again, but yeah– I know what makes you tick.” You reply honestly. She just rolls her eyes as she quickly pulls them down your legs, helping you kick them off to the floor. Not only can she already smell you, but the sight is enough to make her mind go blank. How are you already so wet? Had you been expecting this?

Her eyes momentarily flicker over to the book you’d placed on the nightstand and sees that it’s a familiar one; the one with a few portions questionable enough that you hurriedly stuff into one of the drawers before Joel or any of your friends come to visit. She grins at the realization. “Holy shit, you’re all hot and bothered too, huh?”

Before you’re even able to come up with another response, perhaps berate her for using that damn phrase again, you feel Ellie’s thumb swipe through your folds to bring some wetness up to your clit so that she can rub it in slow circles. Your hands grab onto the sheets and your legs fall open, making more room for her to lay between them comfortably. “Yeah, you are. Jeez.”

As turned on as you are, you can’t help but worry for her a bit; this is probably the latest she’s come back from a patrol, and if Maria hadn’t lectured her yet, she would definitely be in for it tomorrow. The dim yellow light from the lamp next to the bed gives you a clear view of those bags beneath her eyes, too, as she looks up at you like it doesn’t even phase her.

“Maybe, but you’re tired,” you whine, reaching down to stroke her freckled cheek with your thumb.

“Are you?” She asks.

You tuck some loose hair behind her ear. “No, but still, you–”

Much to your surprise (the best kind, you hate to admit), Ellie cuts you off by replacing her thumb with her tongue, immediately latching onto your twitching clit like it’s her sworn duty. Your hips jump as you gasp, taken aback by the sudden rush of pleasure that courses through you. Her quiet moans don’t do much to help. That hand on her cheek quickly comes up to grab her hair, clearly unsure whether you should pull her away or tug her closer. Either way, she doesn’t budge. You knew she wouldn’t.

Though it still feels good, way too good, you notice the tiredness creeping up on Ellie while she exhausts her last bits of energy into eating you out– slowly, more messy than usual, which is a welcome change. Little do you know, the only thing keeping her from completely dozing off is the feeling of your fingers tugging her hair (and the way your taste melts on her tongue like honey).

Due to this change in pace, it’s easier for you to keep your legs open wide for her, not exactly having the energy to struggle whatsoever and not wanting to tire her any more than she already is. If this is what she chooses to help her relax, then so be it; you’re getting something out of it too, after all.

A few minutes go by before you’re weakly crying out her name. “Els, I’m close,” you say, “just like that, okay? Oh, fuck,”

Ellie gives a tired smile as she pushes one finger into your clenching hole, softly curling it upwards into that spot that knocks the air out of you every single time. That’s all it takes to push you over the edge.

Your hand falls from her head and seeks out her free hand, twining your fingers together as she lets you ride out a gentle, quivering orgasm– but she doesn’t stop there. Of course she doesn’t.

It takes you a moment to process that she hasn’t stopped, even after removing her finger from inside of you. Her tongue is relentless as ever despite the ache in her bones telling her that her time is up.

“Ellie–” You hardly whine out, cut by a gasp. Still, though, you don’t make any attempt to fight back. You just squirm and cry as she licks up the mess she’s made of you with no regard for your sensitivity. It isn’t because she’s feeling mean, though. Just one glance down at her is all it takes for you to understand that she’s really just out of it.

You squeeze her hand each time she moans into you, the once pleasurable vibrations becoming torturous. Not before long, though, those moans turn to whines, then huffs, until you feel her head go limp against your thigh as she licks you one last time before letting out a low hum.

Relief floods you when you think she might just be done for the night

That is, until you look down once more and see that she’s completely knocked out.

Your eyes widen. Her lips glisten in the little bit of light in her room, her hands resting on your hips, cheek smushed against your shivering inner thigh. It’s a beautiful sight, really, but the context makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

Cautiously, you shake your leg, jostling her head and watching her brows furrow at the disturbance. “Ellie.”

Her squinted eyes finally flutter open and meet yours, obviously still well aware of her situation. “What, can’t a girl get some shut-eye around here?” She groans.

You shake your leg again before she can nuzzle back into it, which is her cue to hesitantly crawl up to your side, bringing the blanket over the both of you before wrapping an arm around your waist and burying her face into the warm crook of your neck. “Better?” Ellie questions muffledly.

You reach over to run your fingers through her (now messy) hair, successfully easing her sleepy state of irritation. “Much better, sleeping beauty.”

Though you expect your tease to be met with a dirty look or at least a snarky comment in return, you’re met with a very telling silence. Then, that big exhale Ellie always does whenever she’s completely fallen asleep.

[pupkashi]

sweet nothing

gojo always finds himself running home to you

a/n: hi friends ! hope u all enjoy this little piece inspired by the song sweet nothing by taylor swift (thank u anon for the inspo 🫶🏼) let me know what u all think :3

wordcount: 1,310

masterlist

one of the only thoughts on gojo satoru’s mind, from the moment he leaves home to the second he’s unlocking the door, is coming home to you.

his shoulders hurt from the amount of stress he’s under, every muscle in his body tense, eyes burning with exhaustion, and his head throbbing as the higher ups words ring in his ears. the light jingle of his keys as he unlocks the front door helps ground him a bit, blinking once, twice then opening the front door.

he’s greeted with the smell of food, he can’t quite place what it is (he doesn’t help in the kitchen much after the one time he did and ended up ruining three pans), he’s slipping his shoes off and placing his keys in the small leaf shaped holder on the table next to the door.

his eyes naturally focusing on the picture frame of the two of you on vacation last July, a wide, carefree smile painted on both of your faces, hair a bit messy from walking around. his cheeks were flushed as you planted a kiss to his cheek, your arms thrown around his neck.

satoru’s thrown out of his trance by the sudden sound of loud sizzling, the small smile on his face only growing when he hears your soft humming. his tired feet carry him quickly to the kitchen, a spring in his step as he grows closer and closer to being with you.

he feels the weight on his shoulders ease up a bit as his eyes land on you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching you chop up vegetables with a smile on his face, replacing the higher ups nagging ringing in his ears with your off-key singing.

“have you ever considered x-factor sweetheart?” he asks, a lopsided smile on his face when you turn to face him, bright eyes as you welcome him home.

“i sent in a recording once, they offered me a ten year contract but i declined” you teased, moving to stir the food cooking in the pan, “told them i have a very needy boyfriend that would die without me.”

satoru let’s put a small ‘pft’ at your words, pushing himself off the wall and walking up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder.

“how was your day, angel boy?” you ask, voice as sweet as honey as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. satoru let’s put a small huff, his warm breath tickling your neck which causes you to smile.

“‘t was okay, just stressed out” he mumbles, “and the fucking higher ups are-”, his eyes closing as he remembers his conversation with them, sighing deeply. you pout a bit, noting his more more tense body against yours. you let yourself melt into his touch, turning around and hugging him properly.

“don’t wanna talk about it?” you ask gently, he shakes his head, bangs covering his eyes just a bit. you nod, giving him a smile before kissing his lips softly, “then we won’t.”

satoru is grateful, knowing that when the time is right he’ll open up to you about it. but for now he just wants to spend his night with the love of his life.

“good thing im making your favorite then huh?” you chuckle, watching the way his shoulders inflate, he’s standing taller and there’s a smile on his face.

it wasn’t long before the two of you were eating dinner together, making easy conversation and laughing at anything stupid either of you said. he’s placing the freshly washed plates on the drying rack, heading over to you on the couch when you stop him.

“go shower, I’ll let you use my stuff” you state, eyes widening as you see satoru already running towards the restroom, “just this once!” you call out, hearing his loud giggles echoing from down the hall.

it’s 40 minutes later when he’s emerging into your shared room in only his boxers, body still dripping with water and steam following him out. you can smell your rose scented body wash on him as he dries himself off besides you.

satoru is looking at you with big eyes, towel in hand as he grins up at you, “will you dry my hair?” his voice is filled with a gentleness you’ve grown much too soft for.

“come here” you smile, heart growing at the sound of an excited squeak he lets out. you’re gentle as you dry his hair, combing out any knots and putting some product in it before patting his head twice, letting him know you were done.

your lover is quick to change positions, taking you in his arms and curling himself around you, some damp strands landing on your face as he buries his face in your neck. you’re doing your best to wiggle your hands free from his grasp, adjusting so you can card your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp a bit just the way he likes.

satoru visibly relaxes against your touch, practically purring as you whisper to him, “I’m so proud of you” you say, “you work so hard, angel” tenderness carried in every syllable of your words.

“I love you so much” you remind him, squeezing him a bit tighter, moving his hair from his forehead and placing a kiss there, “my beautiful boy” you murmur, a smile on your face as you see the way his grin grows.

the apples of his cheeks are rosy, pink dusting his entire face. satoru easily grabs your hips, placing you on top of him so that you straddle his lap.

“how do you always know what to say?” he asks, looking up at you with fond eyes, nuzzling his cheek into the palm of your hand as you place a stand of hair behind his ear.

“hmm, call it intuition” you tease, placing feathery kisses all over his face, the two of you giggling when you kiss his nose, “but it’s probably just ‘cause I’m your soulmate” you smile.

satoru hums in agreement, one hand snaking to the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss, your lips moving in sync. when you pull away the two of you are giggling softly, foreheads resting against each other as he shifts a bit, kissing you nose before throwing his head back against the pillows, letting out a small sigh.

“sometimes i wish i was just your toru” he mumbles, “i never asked to be the strongest.” you can hear the slight tremor in his voice as he speaks, his eyes closing to fight tears back. you’re quick to kiss his cheeks, rubbing your thumb against his cheek as you coax him to look at you.

“i know you didn’t, angel boy” you sigh, brushing his hair away from his face gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “it’s gonna work itself out, i know it will” you reassure him, a small smile on your face as he nods along with you.

maybe you were right, maybe you weren’t, satoru didn’t care. he believed every word you said to him. each reassurance working to calm his exhausted mind, his eyes fluttering closed as you continue to whisper, your words meant for him and only him.

“and you’ll always be my toru” pressing a feathery kiss to his jaw, “the one with the stupid sweet tooth and terribly timed jokes” you smile, watching the way his smile returns to his face.

“I’ll always be here waiting for you to come home to me” you say, there’s a plethora of emotions dripping from your words. the only thing satoru feels is love, your undying and genuine love, for him.

gojo satoru may not know everything, but he knows one thing for sure; he’ll always be ready to run home to you and your sweet nothings.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[taintedcigs]

we’d still worship this love — e.m.

part two of even if it’s a false god.

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!

summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)

a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!

Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.

He had fucked up.

So badly.

He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.

“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.

Robin.

“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.

He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.

He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.

He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 

2 HOURS LATER

DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry

DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear

DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me

DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come

DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 

You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.

You blocked this contact. 

“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.

“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.

“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.

“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.

“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.

You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.

Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 

Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 

You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 

But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 

But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 

The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 

The three of you looked at each other in unison.

Shit.

Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 

You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 

As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 

“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 

“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 

“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 

“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 

“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.

But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.

Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 

“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 

“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 

“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 

“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 

His drunkenness made you more angry.

“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  

“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 

“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 

“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 

1 MONTH LATER:

Thirty fucking days.

Eddie was going to lose his mind. 

Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.

He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.

Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.

Until he made it to the party.

Until he finally saw you.

With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—

His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 

“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 

You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 

Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 

You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 

“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.

You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 

“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 

You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 

“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 

Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.

“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 

This asshole. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.

You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”

You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 

“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 

You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 

“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 

He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”

“None of your business.” You hissed.

“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”

“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 

“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 

“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.

“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.

You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.

Fucking jerk.

You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.

“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 

“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.

You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.

“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…

“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.

But you can’t help it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 

“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 

“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.

“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 

“Yes!” You snapped. 

“Then show me.” He challenged. 

“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 

Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.

And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 

And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 

“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 

He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 

But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 

Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 

You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.

His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 

Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 

Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 

He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 

He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 

You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 

Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 

His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 

You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 

But he didn’t move an inch.

That greedy bastard. 

“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 

Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 

“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 

You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 

But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 

And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 

He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 

“Please,” You begged. 

“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.

“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 

With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 

“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 

But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 

You just needed to feel good. 

“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 

Baby. 

He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 

He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 

But he’s sure you will never let him. 

“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.

That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 

The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 

He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 

“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.

You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  

“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  

“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 

“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.

You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  

You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 

He was making you greedy. 

God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 

He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 

You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 

“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.

And it was a huge mistake.

He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 

And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 

He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 

“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 

“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 

You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 

“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 

He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 

You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 

“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  

“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.

“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 

Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.

But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 

“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 

“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  

You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 

It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 

“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 

“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.

“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 

“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.

"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”

“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.

“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.

“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 

He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 

Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 

You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 

His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 

A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 

He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 

“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 

You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 

This was the last time. 

And you needed to leave. 

As soon as possible.

And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 

You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 

“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 

You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it��s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 

And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 

“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 

“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.

“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 

“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.

“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 

“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.

You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 

“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.

But he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 

You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 

“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.

Just one more fucking chance.

“What good will it do?” You whispered.

“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 

“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.

“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 

“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.

“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 

“So?” He shrugged.

“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”

“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.

He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.

You were afraid of getting hurt.

You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.

You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.

You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.

If you didn’t leave now, you never could.

“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 

Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 

He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 

He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.

Forever.

But did he have to? 

Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 

Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 

Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 

“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 

He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 

You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 

“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 

“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 

He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 

“I need to talk to you.” He said. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.

“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.

He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 

“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.

You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 

You’d never seen him like this before.

Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.

And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.

You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.

“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.

How the fuck did he read you that easily?

“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.

“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.

You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.

Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 

“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.

“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.

“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.

You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 

“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 

Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.

“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.

You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 

“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.

“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 

“I—You do?” You stuttered.

“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 

“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 

“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 

You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 

“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 

God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.

Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”

His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?

“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”

You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.

It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.

Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.

“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.

He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.

Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?

You nodded, affirming him.

“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.

“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.

“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.

“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.

“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.

“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.

“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.

“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.

And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.

[calicoheartz]

please please write a smut fic inspired by that that pic of caitlin with her hair wet 🙏🙏

Wild & Wet ; Caitlin Clark ᶻz

꣑୧ — summary | cait w wet hair makes u go absolutely feral !

wc ; 891

— warnings | NSFW under the cut! read ur own risk ! ab riding , dirty talk , scissoring, etc

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : tysm for all the love on my last cc nsfw fic ! tried to make this one a little bit more interesting for yall, enjoy !

There was something about your girlfriend with wet hair that made you go absolutely feral. You didn’t know how to even explain, there was just something about it that gave you a little problem that only she could fix.

So it wasn’t surprising that when Cait came back from a victorious win , she would hop in the shower and go about her entire self care routine, one of which involved her washing her luscious locks.

This didn’t concern you, I mean you loved the way your girlfriend smelt after a shower. It was what came after that concerned you.

She kissed your forehead gently, mumbling a “im gonna go shower and then im all yours,” you nodded at this, as the brunette turned away and headed towards your shared bathroom.

Around 30 minutes later, you heard the water shut off, and a pair of familiar footsteps headed towards your bedroom, with the door creaking slightly as it was opened.

You wished you could save this moment forever, the sight of your girlfriend standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her neck, her hair wet and sticking to her face slightly, as she adorned her signature black sports bra and matching sweats.

You grinned at her slightly, as she plopped onto the space beside you, immediately bringing your face to hers as she began to softly pepper your face with kisses. You took this as an opportunity to crawl into her lap, facing her directly as silence followed.

Your hands planted on her chest, palms accidentally pressed against her nipples as you try to gain more leverage. You looked at her with a loving gaze, as the brunette gives you a smirk in reply. “Someone missed me.” she chirped, causing a pink haze to form on your cheeks, as her hands made their way to your sides. Moving them up and down lovingly, earning a whimper from you.

Your head drops slightly, eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips back and forth slowly. Your arousal glistening on her skin, leaking through the grooves of her abs. The prettiest sounds fall from your mouth as she gently massages your thighs that are pressed against the sides of her torso.

“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. Yeah, keep moving your hips like that. Youre so fucking pretty-ohmyfuckinggod” the brunette mumbles out, her voice low and raspy from her own wetness pooling inside her.

Your whimpers progressively getting louder and louder as you torturously overstimulated yourself on your girlfriends abs.

Cait quickly flips you over onto your back, her tall frame towering over you as she asks, “are you going to be a good girl and let me do whatever I want to you?” you not eagerly at this, desperate for any friction against your cold, anything to solve the mess happening in your panties.

She tugs at your panties, giving her a nod of approval, she slowly slips them off you and discards them somewhere in your shared bedroom.

The brunette slowly opens your legs, and situates herself on top of you, discarding her own boxers in the process.

She begins slowly rubbing her pretty clit against yours, as she watched in awe how drunk you were from it. So so so submissive for her, being such a good girl for her as she took your tongue in her mouth, engaging in a deep but fiery kiss. “Mm…cait-” you said, pornographic moans escaping your lips as you gripped her shoulders, grinding against her.

“Hm? What is it my sweet girl?” her voice traveling through your ears, making you wetter by the way she spoke. “Feels s’good ohmygoddd” – “I know, you make me feel just as good- fuck”, your exchange cut off by how horribly sloppy the situation was, you were horribly wet. Embarrassing actually. But you couldn’t help it, she looked so good. With her hair down, a few strands sticking to her forehead as her pretty lips parted to let out the cutest and muffled sounds. She looked so good, her muscular arms flexing as she holds herself up, continuing to massage her pussy against yours.

Less than two minutes later you feel your orgasm approaching, as juices bursted out of you so quickly, you could no longer tell which belonged to you.

Caitlin licks her lips as she sees your face contorting with pleasure as she helps you ride out your high, as you throw your head back and groan.

“Good job, baby.” Caitlin says between breaths as she climbed off your shared bed, walking over to the dresser to steady yourself. You laid flat on the bed, reminiscing on the best orgasm of your life, staring at your beautiful girlfriend. The brunette gathers her breath, and turns to face you, her goddess-like build flooding your line of sight. She smirks, before walking over back to the bed as she takes your hand, kisses it gently, and smiles back at you.

“Such a good girl for me, you did so well” she soothes, as you roll over closer to her. She climbs into the bed fully and holds you in her arms, as you laid there in silence, resting your head on her chest. You lean in for a kiss, as the brunette mumbles out a tired “I love you”, you giggle in between kisses,

“I love you more.”

what it finna play?? WOAHHHH !!!! probably my favorite nsfw/suggestive fic to date. Chefs kiss ! As always , tysm for reading 💌