#it really just wanted to be longer and i had to firmly put down my foot at that

[ridingtorohan]

hey!! i saw ur recent post about the tulpar crew walking in on reader touching themselves, could u do the same but vice versa?

Ask and ye shall receive!

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. possible second hand embarrassment. masturbation, sexual propositions, the whole shebang. this is a sequel to this post. this one can definitely be read on its own though. lightly implied that reader didn't accept swansea or daisuke's offers in the prequel but that can be left up to interpretation. jimmy's definitely happened though.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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Curly is just so damn tired. Tired of the reports, faxes, checking the straps in the cargo bay. One of the few downtimes he gets is when he can sit and watch the constellations pass on the common room monitor. The Augira, Constantine and Mitena were all ones that he recognized from this sect of the system, all penned from the eyes of Saturn and further.

Movies are a scarce commodity on the screen, given Jimmy's track record of not wanting to hook the systems up, but it helps him nod off most times.

Working out, though? Working out he can do. Pony Express has given him permission to bring his weights on board, alongside a slew of magazines and audiobooks to listen to.

While Curly doesn't think of himself as a gym rat, those moments to himself are some of the best. Nothing but the burn of iron, the strain of his muscles with each rep. It's methodical work, one that sets his mind at ease and off of reports for once.

Some days, he can get Jimmy in on the action, but most of the time his co-pilot bemoans it. Each time they worked out, the stretches between the next session grew longer.

He's pleased when you agree to attend a few sessions with him. By then, it's almost amicable between you two, as if him walking in you didn't even happen. He's very much acted the part of a dutiful captain, though, he can't help his own eyes from wandering when he sees you stretch. Can't help himself from putting his hands firmly on you when he goes to correct your stance. It doesn't linger, doesn't wander, but goddamn, does he wish he could throw propriety out the window.

It's after one of his solo workout sessions when he chooses another way to unwind. Really, that's the only explanation for it. One that he tells himself anyway, because the strain of propriety is heavy. If he still thinks of you from time to time, if your face crops up in his thoughts while he touches himself, that's his business.

The only places you'd catch him in the act is either in the bathroom or his room.

Curly has always been imaginative, thoughts trailing to roads not travelled, paths that burn out of sight. Of you, sprawled out on the bed, and how he wished he had stayed. How he'd have given anything to hike your legs over his waist and kiss you senseless when he slid against you.

As it always is, every fantasy comes to an abrupt end. Every night that he had dreamed of walking in to find you waiting, you found him. Wifebeater drenched in sweat, towel draped over his shoulders, every line of his well built body on display, hand fisted around his cock.

There's a difference between wishing you'd walk in on him and actually receiving it.

A painful, terse moment lingers between you two, tension so thick he swears he can cut it. His hand completes the motion, wiping from his base to the tip, each breath deep. Despite how uncomfortable he felt (for more than one reason), he also felt more prepared. "Hold on a minute." He'll cover himself, boxers and uniform hiding himself from view.

If you believe you could flee from the room without Curly following you, you're dead wrong. He'll track you down, put this to bed once and for all. He'll catch you, half-dressed in his uniform, blue workwear draped around his waist, hand against the wall. "We have to talk about this."

Regardless if you stay or leave, not talking about it is no longer an option. You've both seen more of each other than was warranted, then what you both signed up for, but dammit he wants this. And he's so tired of shying away from things that he wants. From the person that he wants. All because of some higher-ups sitting cozy back home saying that it's wrong to do. He can't do it anymore, not when he feels like he's on the cusp of something great for once in his life.

"I know that what happened isn't what either of us expected," he'll start, voice low and perhaps far too sensual to be appropriate considered his half-dressed state. "And frankly, we can keep it to ourselves, pretend we never saw it." Biting the bullet is one of the fewest things he's done in life, but this is something that he wants to do. By fractions, Curly leans in closer, his voice entering a low murmur. "But... it doesn't have to be. We could give each other a.. hand, so to speak."

Routine. That's one thing that the Tulpar is good at. Routine. Each meal time, the rigid necessity of clocking in and out on time, even bathing. Pony Express may be a shit machine but it's well oiled, worked raw by the people under it. Delivering the payload is a smooth easy task because they all work on it together.

Part of that routine is shift work. Jimmy, ever the night-owl, works evening and night shift. This makes it so incredibly easy to avoid him if you wanted, especially since he walked in on you tending to yourself.

But he doesn't let you forget it. Since that moment, there's a smoldering heat in his gaze, eyes hooded as he watches you go about the room. Watched as you did your tasks, always standing too close - enough that you can get a whiff of his woodsy cologne, or feel his arm against yours.

He's almost helpful, even when your tasks really don't necessitate the need for another. His hands linger, hot against your uniform, his hips against the back of yours whenever he steadied you, or reached above you. Each word a rumble in his throat.

Except there's never really any change to talk to him about what happened. Not when every moment is tense, fraught with unresolved desires and need. Not when Daisuke or Curly walk into the room, silencing the burning questions and words that haunt your lips. Jimmy seems especially disgruntled about the interruptions, getting almost snappy towards the other crewmembers.

All in all, you rarely have a moment to speak with him. It's the furthest thing from your mind when you step out of the shower, more than eager to collapse face first into bed and sleep the weariness away.

If you're the sort to bring clothes into the washroom to change into, the absence of them is noted fast. No amount of scrounging around turns them up either. At a loss, it's to your sleeping quarters to wrangle up something else to wear.

Except you're very much not alone the second you step into your door. The door swishes behind you but you're effectively grounded, eyes drawn to the man lounging on your bed.

His head is tilted, messy hair falling across his hooded eyes, a dark and smoldering look to them. A slow stretch of a smirk crawls across his face, a pleased look darting into his eyes.

Jimmy is just as bare as the day he was born, an arm languidly thrown over your pillow. A leg bent up, not at all coy about having himself on display. His other arm is resting against his thigh, one hand smoothing along his flushed cock in a slow, slick motion. His fingerstips are all but slathered in precum - or actual cum, as you might suspiciously think when you look at your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, looking sticky.

"There you are. Took you long enough." He breathes out your name, chin tilted upward, something primal lurking deep in his eyes. Jimmy clicks his tongue, ever the disapproving copilot. "You should know better than to keep someone waiting." Despite the curt, wanting tone to his words, he doesn't move towards you. Letting you go to him. Like he knows you will.

"I've been thinking," each word is low and deep, husky in his mouth. Jimmy's hand very much doesn't stop moving, stroking himself as you're rooted to the spot. Whenever you glance down between his thighs, his smirk deepens. "That you owe me for what I did for you."

It's not like you could dance around the topic forever; each touch, every interrupted conversation, it all would have culminated to this. Jimmy waiting for you, eager to put his hands back on you, to feel you tremble and shudder beneath him as he pulls you apart.

The thing was, you realize, it'd be terribly easy to leave him here. To not respond to his advances. The door was to your back and even Jimmy had enough sense not to walk out nude in pursuit of you. It'd be easy to walk to another crewmate's quarters and pilfer clothes. It'd be laughed off, brushed under the rug just as another incident, excused as you being unable to enter your room because of 'technical difficulties'.

The thing is, though, you can clearly remember how his hands felt, the way he moved. How Jimmy watched you with the same intensity now, his eyes a dark promise of a repeat experience, if not more.

You don't really want to refuse such an offer, do you?

Try as Anya might, she can't get the image of you out of her head. The sounds you made, how your hands moved. She'd tried to be civil, though how quickly she averts her gaze and fidgety hands betray how much it affected her. Nerves, she'd try to excuse it. Nothing ever related to you, of course, because that sounds too much like blame. She blames herself for walking in on you masturbating, and blames herself for wishing that she hadn't left.

But by god, did it make her needy and so sexually frustrated. She's found every excuse under the sun to touch you then jerk back, at war with herself. She has to act professional. Doesn't she?

Something about you, seeing you like that, had coiled something burning inside of her. Something hot, that festered low in her gut.

For the most part, she can act professional. Mostly. But she can only get so far from letting her eyes trace your silhouette, from sitting on her leg whenever you talk to her. It's risky business, even riskier when she decides to keeps a few tokens of yours. Things that smell like you, even distantly - papers, a bracelet. Things that you've lent to her before.

It's been a while since she got laid, since she's even been attracted to anyone. But something about you just sets her on fire, burning with want and need. She needs you like she's never needed anyone before.

Realistically, Anya knows it's because of the forbidden nature; because of the close proximity day in and day out, but there's something so tantalizingly beautiful about it too. She's a sucker for it.

One of her favourite places to get off is in the medbay; she can lock herself in it - but she doesn't. Because it's so much more tantalizing when she thinks about you walking in. When she thinks about pressing you against the desk and using her medical expertise on you. She wants to hear you - taste you - feel you. Is that too much to ask for?

That's exactly where you catch her. Her breath coming out in hot breaths, eyes shut tightly, uniform pulled open. It'd be so easy to mistake it for something else, such as the room being hot - if it weren't for where her hands were.

One has all but ridden up her shirt, rolling the peak of her breast between her fingers. The zipper has gone all the way down to her waist, one hand curled tightly in her underwear, motions jerky as she fingers herself.

Every inch of her wishes that it was you, your fingers working her over, touching her clit and prodding at her walls. She feels so close, having edged herself for a bit until you came in.

It was just to ask her her input on supper, or for a nonsensical question that very well could have waited for another moment.

The door swishes shut behind you and her eyes flutter, dark as she looks up at you, flush all but crawling up her neck.

Seeing how you look at her - how you came to look for her- needing her for something, a question halfway on your lips - and it's her undoing. She moans your name, guttural and hoarse, hips jerking, dripping over her knuckles. "Wait-" Singlehandedly one of the better orgasms she's had, better than when she pined endlessly.

When her senses come back, Anya is breathless and shaken - and you're long gone.

She's not letting you go this time. Not when a new, burning question lodges inside her. Did you like what you see? Did you wish you weren't there?

Anya approaches your door at night, knocking crisply and when you grant entrance, she stands there, the atmosphere almost palpably awkward. She takes a few steps closer, feeling flighty and desperate, eyes searching your face, whispering your name.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers, voice low in the room, nerves biting at her throat. She can't not know anymore. "But I'm... glad that you did."

"Is this.. tension between us all in my head, or, do you want me too?"

It's one thing after the next. Couplings came loose, Daisuke's homework is not up to par, the lightbulbs need to be changed but no one seems capable of doing it. It all amounts to a sort of frustration winding up in him. Swansea has enough grace not to lash out at anyone, but it's there, palpable in his tone.

By some saving grace, you're willing to help him out with his work. Passing over screwdrivers and wrenches, new copper wire as he needs it. Swansea has noticed that you're attentive and eager like that; willing to help. Sometimes, he really wished you were his intern instead of Daisuke, not that he blames the kid.

He really needs a damn beer.

Wanking out his frustrations as a teenager and young adult had really suited him just fine, and with each passing day, it becomes a far more likely possibility.

It surely does not help when every little moment with you feels charged. Knuckles brushing when you supply him with mechanic tools, or when his arm brushed against your thigh as he steadied the ladder for you.

Swansea finds his gaze lingering.. on how your uniform bunches, the sway of your walk, the excited chatter to your tone when you've launched into some spiel or other. Each look he gives you is in quiet contemplation, though perhaps not as obvious as to why.

He's long since brushed off your curious questions.

It's when Anya outright slipped and fell over an oil spill that Swansea called it quits. There's only so many small annoyances that he could take before it became a hazardous snowstorm.

After it's suitably cleaned, he tried to find a place to tuck himself away. Keyword: tried. Something else always needed to be fixed, and he had enough years under his belt to know the ins and out of everything. Leaky faucet? Hold his glass. Vaccuum given up? He's got it. Curly, goddammit, he has it.

It's so grueling to find a moment of peace, so he takes what he can. That just so happened to be in the utility room, frustrations to a boiling point.

He knows his body, knows just the right way to stroke himself, the perfect amount of pressure. Learned it long since his youthful days, since his amicable divorce from his wife. Sure, it might feel mechanic at a certain point, but to him, it was a small reprieve. A getaway that only booze came close to.

Foreskin pulled back, his head is tucked low, eyes heavily lidded, fingertips pressing under the tip of the head just like he likes.

Swansea has himself sticky with precum when the utility door rattles and open. "Swansea, I found your keys-"

His eyes track up, eyebrows raised. Whatever hasty attempt you may have made, it's blocked by the aging mechanics of the utility door. It's from an older rig, one that still uses keys instead of the security bars that the medbay and cockpit use. Which means it's faulty as shit.

He sighs, head tipped back, eyes still on you. "That's on me for not leaving a sock out there," he grumbles, voice gruff and husky. A reference to how he told you to ward off people when he caught you masturbating earlier.

Moving his hand from his cock, his gaze is surprisingly steady, arm draped against the back of the chair. "Listen, kid, I won't say shit about this if you don't. Keep it jammed tight better than a olive jar when making margaritas. But." He rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying crack run through him. "I can show ya a few things that the ole cap' or other men won't, if yer interested."

Daisuke has been, for lack of a better word, edgy around you. Hovering, then trying to create distance. He can't seem to decide how to act around you. Not when he's seen you that way, pleasuring yourself. When he wishes you'd involve him.

He's seen plenty of naked people before, got hard over them, but wow, did you take it to the next level. Even how you tilt your head or roll up your sleeves has him in an outright tizzy, straining hard in his pants.

Daisuke often has to excuse himself from your presence. Ignoring Swansea's rolling eyes and knowing scoffs is easy; ignoring you is harder.

It's during one of those mundane tasks, where you're prattling about your work to the others, his eyes glued to your form, absorbing every word that he can't take it anymore. Excusing himself, he pops right out of the room, awkwardly striking towards his bunk.

But of course that is the exact moment you decide you need to return his gameboy - or comic, or whatever he had lent you a few weeks prior.

Daisuke is completely in the groove, pants folded down, back propped to the wall, knees folded and lips parted with each heavy breath. He's always been loud, noisy and boisterous. But his saving (and falling) grace is that he's also often playing movies in his room, and what muffled sounds you may hear from the other side of the door is easily chalked up to that. (Or perhaps, you knew.)

You catch him like that, hand fisted around his lean cock, shirt ridden up over his stomach, his movements sharp and jerky. It's bad enough that you walk in on him like this - but another to hear Daisuke rattle out your name, the sound breathy and full of want coming from his lips.

He's a poor, flushed mess, eyes wide when he looks up at you - and it's so plainly obvious to the both of you that he didn't call out because he heard you come in.

"I- I can totally explain." Except he really can't, can he, when he has his dick in his hand, just moaning your name literally seconds ago.

Any attempt to backtrack out of the room will be greeted with a hasty, "Oh my god, no, pleasewait!" As he all but tries to leap from his bed, tripping over his pants in his haste to get to you. Daisuke is nothing but determined and will try to talk to you about this, even if you manage to successfully flee.

Choosing to stay has him utterly red-faced, almost ashamed as he rambles through a tirade of, "Okay, so," punctuated by repeated, stumbled phrases before he manages to get out, "So, me calling out your name just now - total accident. Unlessyoudon'twantittobe? But, like, I definitely understand if you want to leave but I'dreallyratheryoustaybecause I really can't stop thinking about you and, - oh hey, is that my gameboy? You can just set it-- that's not important! I just. Really don't want you to leave. Please."

[chibinasuu]

Ace x Reader ― reunion; kisses

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― anonymous tags: sfw, childhood friends to lovers, GN!reader, no use of y/n

“You saved my little brother’s life. He never stops talking about you.” 

Portgas D. Ace took off his hat and bowed slightly to the Captain of the Red Hair Pirates, “I just wanted to thank you in person.” 

You didn’t expect to see him here, of all places. 

He had not seen you yet, hidden among the onlookers. Your heart was hammering in a ferocious beat – it had been since the moment you saw that familiar wide-brimmed orange hat, that silky black hair, that freckled face, that cheesy smile.

God, you missed him.

He wasn’t the lanky boy you knew anymore. He was a bit taller now, and his hair was longer than it was the last time you saw him. He was also��� bigger. It was hard to see underneath that cloak he was wearing, but you were sure he had put on some muscles. 

You wanted to call out to him, to surge forward and hold him, but you held yourself back out of respect for this monumental exchange between the Super Rookie and the Emperor. 

Shanks’ frown turned into a wide grin, his laughter echoing in the dark cave, “You’re Luffy’s brother? I didn’t know he had one!”

Suddenly, Shanks turned and called out your name, “You know this guy? You used to hang around Luffy too, right?”

The crowd of Red Hair Pirates parted to let you through, and Ace’s eyes widened in disbelief as he finally noticed you. His lips formed your name though no sound came out, shell-shocked at this happenstance that was just too good to be true. 

“Is that really you?” He said when he finally found his voice. 

You felt tears of joy threatening to spill out as you grinned, “It is!”

You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you looked up at Shanks, your eyes silently asking for permission. 

Shanks sighed, smiling and giving you a nod in Ace’s direction, “Go ahead.”

You thanked him before running toward Ace and launching yourself into his arms. He caught you firmly, laughing while spinning you around a few times before setting you down gently.

“I can’t believe it’s actually you!” He exclaimed breathlessly, “What? How? What happened since I left Dawn Island?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but before you could get any word out, Shanks interrupted with a shouted order to his crew, “Prepare a feast!”

“You’re welcome here," he told Ace, giving him a friendly pat on the back. "Tell me all about your adventures.”

As the Red Hair Pirates and the Spade Pirates partied the night away, exchanging stories over shared bottles of sake, Ace found you among the crowd and dragged you outside into the quiet night.

Away from the noise, you suddenly became very much aware of Ace’s warmer-than-average hand holding your cold one. 

He found a wide, flat rock near the cave’s entrance and swiftly removed his cloak. He wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath, and you briefly – and hopefully subtly – glanced at his newly exposed torso.

Yep, he had definitely put more muscles on. 

He laid his cloak on top of the rock and sat down, patting the space next to him.

“Aren’t you cold?” You asked as you plopped down beside him.

Ace lit the tip of his index finger on fire in answer.

“Right,” you chuckled, “Sorry. Stupid question.”

“So, how did you end up with an Emperor of the Sea?”

That’s Ace, you thought. Always straight to the point. 

“Not long after you set off to sea, I booked a passage to Loguetown. I was planning to find work with some traveling merchants there, but I was attacked by a bunch of nasty pirates who wanted to rob me.” 

Ace’s brows furrowed in concern, but you continued on with your story, “Shanks happened to be in town on some business, and he saved me. He recognized me as the kid who used to play with Luffy in Windmill Village and took me in. I’ve been sailing with his crew ever since.”

“Not officially part of the crew though, I’m just tagging along.” You quickly clarified, “Being in an Emperor’s crew was never part of my plan. Shanks is just kind enough to let me stay in his ship until I figure out what’s next.”

Truthfully, you didn’t know (and didn’t want to think about) what was next.

At first, you just wanted to be a merchant – open your own business and travel island to island in the East. 

You didn’t even know why you took up on Shanks’ offer to sail with him in the first place. 

Seeing Ace again, however, had opened a tiny door in the deepest part of your heart, out of which a voice whispered that maybe, it was because you knew that going into the Grand Line was the only way you could even have the slightest chance of ever meeting Ace again. 

But whatever the reason, you had now gotten a taste of the Grand Line – of piracy and the thrill of the adventure. You weren’t sure you could go back to the little corner of the world that was the East Blue. 

Not wanting to dwell on that much longer, you turned the conversation to the man sitting beside you, “Well, how have you been? You’re a big-name pirate now! A captain of your own crew!”

“Yeah, they’re a great bunch.” He chuckled as he started telling you about his crew. He told you about how he met his first mate, Masked Deuce, who you briefly met earlier. He told you about all of his adventures, right from the moment he left Dawn Island until how he got here, at this moment. 

At the end of his story, he just stared at you silently. You shrunk bashfully as he drank you in, slowly taking inventory of what had or had not changed since you last saw each other. 

Finally, he simply said, “I really missed you.” 

You could see your breath as you let it out into the cold air, “I missed you too, Ace.”

He took your hand, stroking his thumb gently across your knuckles. He struggled with his next words, hesitating on whether or not he should say it.

“I think about that night a lot, you know.”

A shaky breath left your mouth as the memories flashed through your mind.

Of his hands, his touch, his lips.

You remembered how he had finally kissed you for the first time on that night before he set out to sea on his seventeenth birthday. How you had yelled at him because how dare he kiss you now when he’d be gone tomorrow. How you had kissed him back anyway. How he had pressed his lips to yours again and again and again until the sun rose, with a promise that he’d see you again someday. 

You looked away, unable to meet his fiery eyes as you admitted, “Me too.” 

Ace took your chin between his fingers, guiding your gaze back to him. 

When you met his eyes again, they were mere inches away from yours. 

The hand on your chin moved to cup your cheek. You didn’t realize you were also leaning in toward him – drawn by an irresistible need to be closer – until your nose bumped his. 

He was so close that you could count the freckles dotted across his face.

The rapid beat of your heart consumed your being. Your thoughts were filled with him, and only him. 

Ace sighed out your name desperately, his lips nearly brushing yours, “Can I–?“

“Yes.”

You couldn’t tell if it was you or him who finally closed the minuscule distance between you, but you couldn’t care less. You couldn’t care about anything else when his lips were on yours, filled with all of the longing and pent-up desire that only grew more intense the longer you were apart. 

His lips were as soft as you remembered, but they moved more surely, more confidently, than the last time you kissed, on that night that seemed so long ago. 

Your hand roamed his defined abs, up to his chest, before settling at the back of his neck. Ace’s arms circled your waist, dragging you in until you were practically sitting on his lap. 

The cold winter night just urged you to get closer and closer – to press your body against his and bask in the rising temperature of his bare skin. 

You gasped as his tongue flicked out to tease you, and he took advantage of your parted lips to deepen the kiss. 

You were drunk on the taste of him, sweeter and more potent than the most expensive sake you’ve ever had. 

The need for air had you panting slightly as you pulled back, sweat dotting your brows. 

“You’re so hot, Ace.” 

“Yeah?” He claimed your lips again in a short but heated kiss, “You think so?”

“No,” You said, abruptly pulling away from him, “I mean you’re literally hot.” 

He jumped up as if woken up from a trance, quickly moving away from you. It was then that you noticed that the sleeve of your coat had started catching on fire. 

Ace frantically stripped the coat off you and plunged it into the snow, but his fire had done its damage. You looked pitifully at the unsalvageable scorched sleeve. Guess you needed a new coat. 

“S-sorry!” Ace’s whole face, no, even his neck and torso, were bright red, “Sometimes that happens when I’m too, uh… excited.”

You laughed, burying your burning face in your hands, secretly pleased that you could get the mighty Fire Fist so worked up that he briefly lost control of his powers. 

“C’mere, Hotstuff.” You beckoned him closer, “You ruined my coat, now you gotta keep me warm.”

He sat back down, immediately enveloping your body with his. You sighed in pleasure as you settled into his warm embrace, laying your head on his chest. 

You never wanted to let go.

You sat together like that for minutes, or maybe hours. No words were exchanged, but it was a comfortable silence, broken only by the rustle of the trees and the whistle of the winds.

After what felt like an eternity, Ace’s arms tightened around you, “Come with me.”

You swore your heart stopped for a second there. 

“Join my crew. Or don’t. You can just stay on my ship – I don’t care as long as you’re by my side.” Ace ranted in one breath, his anxiety on full display as he awaited your answer. 

“Ace,” you finally said, “It’s not that simple.” 

“Why can’t it be that simple?” He said softly, letting his forehead fall against yours, “I don’t think I can stand being apart from you again.”

You closed your eyes as you sighed, already feeling your walls cracking, but still refusing to let them crumble completely, “Let me think about it.”

He nodded, “I leave tomorrow morning. I’ll be waiting for you at the coast.” 

Ace draped his cloak on you, and you thanked him with one last peck on his lips. You walked towards the encampment of the Red Hair Pirates, hugging the cloak tighter to fight the freezing winds. It smelled like him. 

You let yourself imagine what it would be like to sail on Ace’s ship – to have him by your side at all times. To discover new islands and have adventures with him. To fall asleep next to him and wake him up with kisses. 

You realized that the decision had been made by your heart all along, ever since the moment you saw him, even before he extended his offer. You were a fool to think that your brain had any say in this at all.

Your feet had unwittingly carried you to Shanks’ tent, and you knew what you had to do.

“Shanks?” You called, “You awake?”

A groan from inside the tent told you that he was at least conscious. There was no telling how many barrels of alcohol he had consumed at the party. 

“Come in,” he croaked.

Shanks took one look at you and sighed. 

The Captain looked quite disheveled, but was surprisingly coherent when he said, “You’re going with him, aren’t you?” 

“Are you using future sight on me?!” 

He eyed your mussed-up hair and swollen lips, “Darling, I didn’t need to.”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment as Shanks chuckled.

“I saw how you looked at him, kid,” he added on a more serious note, “And I saw how he looked at you.” 

“I think I might love him, Shanks.” You said, surprising yourself. Your voice was barely audible even in the quiet tent. 

“I mean, I used to have a massive crush on him back when we were teenagers. But, seeing him again… it’s like everything just clicked.”

Shanks just nodded in understanding, “So this is it, isn’t it? Your ‘next’.” 

“I think it is.”

“Go. Be with him.” His eyes were soft as he smiled at you, “Be happy. You deserve it.”

You crushed him in a hug, “Thanks for everything, Shanks.”

You choked up as you felt his one arm tighten around your back.

It was not easy, packing up everything and saying goodbye to the crew that has become your family these past few years. 

But as you trudged toward the coast, you felt your heart growing bigger, making room for a new home, a new family, and a new adventure. 

For the first time, instead of dread, you felt excited for what would come next.

a/n: this event was supposed to be max 1k drabbles, but alas, i was carried away (again). this was my first time writing for ace, and i actually felt quite happy with how this turned out! i hope you all enjoyed it and pleeease let me hear your thoughts in the comments or tags <3

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[mytherapyisreading14]

Hii! Could make a smutt fic with post prison Spencer fic where the reader and Spencer are like best friends/roommates and she has a massive crush on him and he’s in her room looking for something and finds her diary with all of the dreams she’s had about him and they are like extremely kinky like spitting in her mouth and using his handcuffs on her and while he’s reading the diary she walks in on him and she gets like really embarrassed and he’s being the biggest tease to her and then they fuck. Also could you include the spit kink in the smutt part? If you’re not comfortable with that then it’s fine :). Ps I sent this request to another writer like a week ago but they said that they couldn’t do it because they were only doing blurbs.

A Dream Come True

Summary: When Spencer comes over for one of your weekly movie nights, he accidentally finds your diary and discovers your secret.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby etc.), praise kink, spit kink, choking, fingering, use of handcuffs, oral sex (f), unprotected sex (stay safe y’all), multiple orgasms, dom!spencer (If I missed any warnings, please tell me)

Word Count: 3,3k

Author’s Note: I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday and finished writing this to distract me from the pain (didn’t work though) 😩 Anyway, I hope you like it! :)

You're standing in the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies hits your nose. You decided to bake some cookies before Spencer is coming over for your weekly movie night. Baking also distracts you from the thoughts that have been consuming you more and more in the last few weeks.

You've always liked Spencer, but in the last few weeks, after he got out of prison, you've been spending even more time together. He needed a distraction and when he finally was ready for it, he also talked to you about what had happened to him.

It broke your heart when he told you what he had to go through. You're glad the team managed to get him out of there. You don't even want to think about how bad it would have been if he had to stay any longer.

You take a look at the clock, Spencer will be here soon. You can't wait, the nervousness tingles in your stomach like usual when you think about him. With a light sigh you put away the last ingredients, while your eyes keep wandering to the calendar on the wall.

You can't say exactly when they started. These... dreams. At first they were just fleeting thoughts that distracted you from the stressful everyday life, but now they are much more than that.

They are firmly imprinted in your mind, as if they are another reality taking up more and more space in your life. You shake your head, trying to compose yourself, but it doesn't work. The desire for these dreams to finally become reality gets stronger everyday, especially when you spend time with him.

You go to your room and open the diary that is still lying on your bed after your last entry this morning. A shiver runs down your spine as you read the words and the memories of your last dream come flooding back.

But the familiar ringing of the door bell snaps you out of your thoughts. Spencer is here. You quickly close the diary and shove it back under your small cupboard in your room where no one can find it.

You open the door and your heart immediately beats faster when you see him. With his messy curls falling over his face and that cute smile he never fails to blow you away. Your breath hitches for a moment as he looks at you.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks as he takes a step towards you and holds out a small bag of gummy bears. “I brought you your favorite gummy bears. They were almost sold out, but I still managed to get a package.” You can’t help but fall into his arms.

“Thank you,” you say, holding him for a moment longer than necessary. It feels so good to feel him close, to breathe in that familiar scent of him. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest. But then he breaks the moment.

“Did you bake something? I think I can smell cookies,” Spencer says and your eyes widen in shock. "Oh no! My cookies!” you shout, practically jumping out of his arms and storming into the kitchen.

You turn off the oven, take the cookies out and carefully place them on the tray to let them cool off. Spencer follows you, still grinning as he watches you. “Just in time,” you say as you run your hand through your hair. “A moment longer and they would have burned.”

“It's good that I'm not only a genius, but also have a good nose,” he jokes. “Or you’re just hungry,” you answer with a grin as you put the cookies aside. “That too. And you know they are my favorite cookies. I can't just let them burn,” he says and you laugh.

“But they have to cool down before you can eat them. If you want we can already start to watch a movie now,” you say and go over to the living room with him, grabbing a few pillows and blankets to make it even more comfortable on the couch.

"So," Spencer says as he sits down next to you and adjusts the pillows, "what movie are we watching first?" You think about it for a while, deciding whether you want to watch something romantic, funny or classic. Finally, your choice falls on Back to the Future. A movie that you both love.

When you want to turn on the television, you suddenly notice that the remote control is no longer working. “Oh no, the batteries are dead,” you mumble and take them out. “Where do you keep the new ones?” Spencer asks, leaning back and watching you. “I can go and get them while you get us something to drink.”

You nod. “They are in the bottom drawer in the small cupboard across my bed,” you tell him. “All right,” Spencer says, getting up and going to your room to get them. While he's in your bedroom, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. If only you knew what he really thinks about you...

Spencer goes into your room to get the batteries. But when he tries to open the bottom drawer like you told him, it gets stuck, which surprises him. He leans down to look what’s causing it, maybe he can fix it for you. But then he notices that there is a book lying under the cupboard.

Curious, he pulls it out and examines it for a moment. He flips through the pages, slowly, as if he can't help himself. His eyes widen when he realizes it's full of entries - entries about the two of you together specifically. It’s your diary. Full of your thoughts about him.

And not just your thoughts. You also wrote down the dreams you had about him, the wishes and desires you couldn't keep to yourself anymore. Your feelings that you never expressed. Spencer continues reading, and with each word it seems as if the world stops.

You, on the other hand, are now wondering where he is. Why doesn't he come back? You go to your room and open the door. “Spence, did you find them or should I help -” You pause, your eyes immediately falling on the book in his hand and your heart beats faster. You blush as you realize what he just discovered.

He looks at you and a grin spreads across his face. “I found a really interesting book under your cupboard. Why did you hide it from me? I would’ve love to read it sooner,” he says as he takes a step towards you. You feel like the ground is threatening to fall away from under your feet. Your pulse is pounding in your ears and you try to stay calm. “Spence…” you whisper, but you can’t say anything more. You're way too nervous.

He looks at you for another second, as if he's getting lost in your reaction, before holding the diary out to you, grinning ever wider. “You probably not only dream about me every night, but also write everything down so you can think about it again and again, right?”

You feel the blood rush to your head and you almost feel dizzy with embarrassment. "I... uh..." you stammer, "It's not what you think..." Spencer laughs. “No?” he asks as he flips the diary over to the page on which you wrote down your last dream about him.

“Well, I think it's kind of cute that you're so lost in your dreams. But you know what?” You look at him uncertainly as he slowly takes a step closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Now that I know about them, I can make them all come true,” he says quietly. For a moment his eyes are so intense you feel like you could sink into them.

Your mind is racing and you can't believe what he just said. Then he suddenly pushes you against the wall and kisses you. The kiss is not gentle, it’s full of desire and hunger. His tongue pushes between your lips, tasting you. You can feel the heat rushing through your body, pressing your thighs together.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more. “I’m going to leave you now. When I come back, I want to see you laying on the bed naked, with your legs spread apart. You’re not allowed to touch yourself. Do you understand?” he asks, his voice firm and eyes full of lust.

You nod and a shiver runs down your spine. “Yes, I… I understand,” you breathe out. He smirks before he grabs your diary and turns around to leave the room. You heart is pounding in your chest and you're shivering in excitement. You do as your told and take off your clothes to lay down on the bed, waiting for him to come back.

Spencer however sits down on the couch to read through all of your diary entries. He feels his pants getting uncomfortably tighter the more he reads and one entry particularly draws his attention. You had this dream 2 days ago.

He used his handcuffs to tie you to the bed, kissed down your body before going over to tease you by squeezing your breasts and biting down on your nipples. You begged him to touch you and when he decided that he teased you enough, he went over to eating you out and fucking you with his fingers. And then, after you came, he leaned forward and spit into your mouth.

Spencer never expected you to dream of things like this, but he is more than happy to make them come true. His cock is getting harder and he decides you waited long enough. Luckily, yesterday after you got off work, you got some take out and drove to your place to eat dinner together. He left his vest and jacket, in which he also packed his handcuffs, hanging in your apartment because he knew he would be back today anyway.

He stands up and goes over to get his handcuffs. He straps them to the back of his pants so you don’t see them right away. Then he goes into your room and opens the door. You lay on the bed, with your legs spread apart, just like he told you. He smirks and comes closer, his eyes wander over your body.

You feel extremely exposed and have to resist the urge to put your arms in front of your body to cover yourself. But then you see Spencer's tongue licking his bottom lip and his eyes darken. “You look so beautiful, baby. I can’t wait to finally touch you,” he says and gets onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you again and you run your fingers through his hair.

He kisses your neck before leaning closer to your ear again. “Do you trust me, baby?” he asks and you nod. He shakes his head. “I need words,” he says and you answer him immediately. “Yes, Spencer. I trust you.” He looks pleased. “Good. Can you close your eyes for me?”

You close your eyes and feel him shift, excited to find out what he planned to do to you. You can feel his hands reaching for yours, then you hear the clatter of metal and feel something cold close around your wrist. You know exactly what comes next and a shiver runs down your spine.

He lifts your hands over your head and ties you to the headboard. You can’t help but smile and he notices. “I see, you’re already enjoying this. You can open your eyes now. I want you to look at me when I touch you,” he says. You open your eyes and look up to Spencer above you.

“I have to admit, your dream from two nights ago surprised me. I really liked reading it. I decided to make this one come true first,” he says before he starts to slowly kiss down your neck. He goes further down around your breasts and then your stomach before he spreads your legs apart and leaves kisses between your inner thighs. When he bits down on the soft skin to leave a hickey there you can’t help but moan.

“Please, I - I need you,” you say and try to reach down to press him against you. But you forget that you’re held back by the handcuffs. Spencer chuckles when he sees you like this, helpless and desperate for more. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want,” he says and his hands wander upwards to your breasts again.

He starts to squeeze the right one and leans down to lick over your left nipple before taking it in his mouth. He bites down gently first and then he starts to suck. All the man you had before never really paid that much attention to your breasts and your surprised how good it feels with him.

When he pulls away and blows cold air on your nipple you shiver again. He turns his attention to the other one and you can’t help but moan. “More…please. I need you to fuck me,” you beg him but he just ignores you and continues his actions.

You press your legs together to relief the ache between your legs but he notices and pushes them apart again with his knee. He grabs your chin with his hand and holds you firm, looking into your eyes. “You have to be patient, baby. I want to take my time with you,” he says.

You nod but a silent cry escapes your lips. The way he’s touching your body leaves you craving him even more and after all these weeks of dreaming about this, you don't want to wait any longer. But you know it won't do any good to keep begging. Instead you focus entirely on his lips, his hands and how he touches your body.

When Spencer finally decides that he teased you enough he slowly leans down, hands running up your thighs before spreading your legs even further to get in between them. You look down and in that moment you wish you’d had an eidetic memory too because you never want to forget the way he looks at you now.

“I always wanted to know what you taste like, baby,” he says and you can feel his warm breath against your pussy. Then he finally leans in and starts to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. The touch is light, teasing again and all you want is to pull him closer and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. His eyes never leave yours when he starts to devour you.

You can’t help but grind against him and this time, he gives you what you want. One hand moves up to your hip, the other one under your ass and he pulls you closer to him while his tongue continues to move in and out of you. He applies more pressure and adds two fingers, making you moan his name over and over again.

“I’m close,” you manage to breath out and Spencer flicks his tongue over your clit. “Come for me baby, come on my mouth,” he says and you let go. Your back arches off the bed when your orgasm hits you but that doesn’t stop Spencer. He just continues what he’s doing, taking everything in.

Your orgasm slowly ebbs away and Spencer comes up from between your legs, his eyes full of lust. He gently runs a finger over your lip and smirks. “Open up for me, baby,” he says and then you realize what he’s about to do. You shiver in excitement and open your mouth.

Then he leans forward and spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” You obey and keep eye contact with him the whole time. “Good girl,” he praises you and gently kisses you, holding you close to him. He gives you a minute to recover, which you gladly take before he starts to undress himself.

Your eyes widen, he’s definitely bigger than you expected. He goes back in between your legs and slowly runs his tip through your folds. “Just… just fuck me already. Please,” you beg him. “You’re so needy, baby. You want to take it all at once? Fine, then have it.” He thrusts inside of you.

You feel the pleasure rushing through your body, expanding every time he hits your g-spot while he fucks you in a restless pace. “You look so pretty like this. Tied to the bed and fucked out for me. You’re all mine now. Gonna make all your dreams come true,” he says and grabs your hips to hold you firm.

He continues to fuck you until you’re crying out his name. He comes closer and wraps a hand around your throat, before kissing your neck again, leaving more hickeys. When he starts to circle your clit again you feel like you’re going to explode from the intense pleasure.

“Spence, need to… please, please…” you whine, unable to form a complete sentence. He chuckles, clearly amused to see you so desperate for him. “Baby, I don’t understand you. You have to tell me what you want,” he teases, squeezing your throat more and slowing down for a moment.

“I - I want -“ you begin but get cut off again by a moan when he thrusts harder into you again. “Look at that, you’re a complete mess. You clearly don’t know what you want, do you? I’m afraid I have to stop then” he teases. “No!” you answer immediately, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close.

“Tell me what you want then, otherwise I can’t help you. Come on, I know you can do it,” he says. “I want to… I want to come. Please,” you finally manage to say before your eyes roll back again. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he says and releases the hand around your throat to speed up his thrusts again.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably when your orgasms hits you and Spencer fucks you through it, finishing inside you a moment later. You can feel his cum deep inside of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and giving both of you a moment to calm down.

Then he sits up, leaning forward to untie you. You immediately cuddle up to him, holding him as close as possible. “Are you okay? Do you need anything baby? Water maybe?” he asks and gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “No, please just hold me in your arms now,” you say and he pulls you even closer against him.

He runs his hands through your hair and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. After a while you look up to him, with a smile on your face. “That was even better than in my dreams,” you mumble, still exhausted. He laughs and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m glad to hear that.”

For a moment everything is quiet, you just enjoy lying in bed together and holding each other in your arms. Then Spencer shifts closer. “You know, tonight it wasn't just your dreams that came true. I wanted this - you - for a long time now too,” he admits and your heart skips a beat.

“Well then I'm happy you found my diary today. Who knows how long it would have taken us before one of us made a move,” you say and laugh. Spencer grins. “Oh definitely way too long,” he says before he leans forward to kiss you again. “I love you,” he says and you smile against his lips. “I love you too.”

[alleiwentcrazy]

“Wait,” Steve propped himself on his elbow, getting into a half-lying, half-sitting up position, “you’d do that for me?”

“Yeah man,” Eddie replied. He shimmied a little bit closer to the middle of the mattress and snuggled to his pillow. His eyebrows furrowed as he yawned. “I mean, I kind of did that already, didn’t I?”

Steve just kept on looking at him, stunned. It felt so strange to be cared for; to be remembered, known. He’d never had been, not like that—with Robin, sure, but that was different. He’d never felt like that with Nancy. With anyone. He hadn’t had to try and make out someone’s silhouette in the darkness, just to read their face and decide whether they were just selfless and nice or doing something for him. Truly for him, for the sake of doing it for him. It had never been an issue, because there had never been anyone about whom he’d had to wonder things like that. It had always been an exchange of sorts in this context.

But not with Eddie.

Steve’s head started to spin.

“Honestly I can’t wait for you to see it. You know she’s not really my type, but even I can see how fucking cool this car is. It felt a little like tuning my guitar or—”

Steve didn’t even register it when he reached for Eddie’s face, his consciousness wasn’t in the room when he lowered himself down and sank even closer to the boy who’d put his heart in a wrench. He just kissed him, and when he did – momentarily, it was a complete bliss. As long as his lips were gently pressed to Eddie’s, no matter how hard his heart was beating, it felt like he would be okay after all. Nothing else was important; he was kissing Eddie. He felt warm and cared for; he was kissing Eddie. 

Eddie.

Steve felt a finger hook at the rim of his shirt, he felt himself being pulled closer.

The panic came approximately three seconds later.

Their lips parted with the softest tsk, but Steve heard it several times louder. His senses were screaming at him, all alarms set off; the smell of Eddie’s shampoo lingered around his face, the sensation of chapped lips lingered against his, his fingers were tingling where they came in contact with Eddie’s slightest stubble.

It was curious how much Eddie reminded him of a cat at that moment. He was rigid, but ready to spring into action whenever, and his eyes were ridiculously big, almost fluorescent in the dim moonlight that was seeping through the trailer’s curtains. The longer Steve looked into those eyes, the more he felt like he might have fucked up. Bad.

“Should I—I should, I mean I…” He trailed off, getting a little further away from Eddie with every word. “I should, yeah, probably. Go.”

He practically jumped out of the bed, and it pained him how cold it was without Eddie close to him. He’d gotten so used to sleeping here, just sleeping, whenever Wayne was out and no uncomfortable questions would be asked, so that they both could feel a little less alone.

“I’ll take the van, we’ll exchange cars later today, alright?” Steve looked for his change of clothes in the darkness. They were, as usual, neatly stacked in his designated space at Eddie’s desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I mean, I did, but I’m, uh. I’m…” He trailed off, his cheeks getting embarrassingly hot and pink, he supposed, even though he couldn’t see himself in the mirror.

It felt wrong to say he was sorry. He was, obviously, he just kissed Eddie out of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. His lips were still warm. He wanted to purse them tightly to keep the memory of Eddie’s lips on his firmly in place.

“We should do it again.”

Steve froze.

“What?”

He turned back towards the bed. It was much easier to make out Eddie’s form now. He was sitting up, chewing his thumbnail, his eyes barely flickering to Steve. His hair stood out against the white-ish wall and Eddie’s gray T-shirt. The waves were quite disheveled, but still cascaded beautifully over his shoulders.

Damn, Steven.

“We should do it again. If you’re not sure, we should do it again.”

Not sure about what? Steve did not dare ask. Eddie looked so nervous, maybe even more nervous than Steve felt. Both of their breaths were coming short now, as if they’d just run a marathon.

Apprehensively, Steve sat back down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath him and he swayed a bit forward.

“We should kiss. Again?” That really was what it was, right?

Eddie nodded his head quickly. Steve’s breath hitched when the smell of Eddie’s shampoo reached his nose once again.

There were very few thoughts in Steve’s head. There was just Eddie, right in front of him, chewing his nail, nodding away. Wanting to kiss him, again, having been kissed once already. Steve was confused and more than a little queasy, but his willpower wasn’t quite strong enough to get him questioning things.

“Okay,” he mumbled. Eddie finally looked at him, lowered his hand to his lap and nodded.

Some sort of nervous sound rumbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Okay. It was okay. He leaned in—and Eddie leaned in at the same time. Warm breath tickled Steve’s lips, and he stopped just before meeting Eddie half-way.

“Are you su—”

Eddie was kissing him before the sentence got out of his mouth in its entirety. Really kissing him, not just pressing their lips together, kissing him, still incredibly stiff and distanced, but kissing him. Oh, with something more than just curiosity, Steve could tell. He let out one heavy breath through his nose and felt Eddie relax right away with him. Their lips were in perfect harmony; Steve’s chest tightened. His stomach felt heavy and full and squirmy and for some reason Steve had never felt better than in this moment, even though his eyes stung and he could barely breathe.

His hands acted on their own accord, one settling on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on his cheek, keeping him close, closer, closer still.

Their lips parted. Steve felt the loss immediately.

“I’m gonna…” Eddie whispered huskily, untangling his legs from the cover and shifting his position. It was funny how one of his knees kind of hovered over Steve’s lap in silent question – it was even funnier how long it took Steve to process that.

“Yeah, feel free, please.”

What the fuck, Steven.

Eddie straddled his lap and leaned right back for another kiss, pressing their chests together. Their hearts kept thump thump thumping loudly against their chests, and Steve was kind of actively losing his mind over that. Eddie, in his gray T-shirt and stupid plaid shorts, was straddling his lap, kissing him, making him believe that he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Was it even real? Could Steve touch him? Would it really be alright? He laid his hand on Eddie’s thigh, feeling hair and goosebumps underneath his fingers. Another conclusion from that night: Eddie was hot. Steve kissed him harder, and he reciprocated, grabbing Steve’s neck.

Steve had no idea for how long they had been kissing, until Eddie swayed dangerously close to the edge of the bed and Steve’s neck started to hurt. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was it.

For now, hopefully.

“It’s getting late,” he mumbled against Eddie’s lips, “and you’ve got to be at the shop at 8 sharp tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said and stole one more peck. “You wanna sleep?”

Fuck me if I can, Steve thought, but nodded yes.

“But let’s talk tomorrow? Okay?”

Eddie’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. His lips seemed sleek and shiny, shinier than his eyes, even.

“We must,” he replied. They both nodded. For some reason Steve’s heart started beating even faster now.

Eddie scrambled from his lap, cleared his throat and rearranged the covers, getting back into his favourite position. Steve followed suit. The gap between them seemed enormous and immediately got filled with anxious energy.

Steve reached between them hesitantly. For a few seconds his hand just lay there, empty and suddenly very cold. Eddie’s open palm touched his. He let out a big breath.

They would figure it out. For sure. Tomorrow.

[ariahmichelle]

Phoning It In- Drew Starkey x actress/reader

Part 2

You sat in the brightly lit Elle magazine studio, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you reached into the bowl of folded slips of paper.

The Phoning It In segment was straightforward—draw a prank scenario, call one of your friends, and see how they react. You’d already done two ridiculous pranks, but when you unfolded your third prompt, your excitement kicked up a notch.

The slip read: “Say you’ve been asked to go on Love Is Blind and want to put your acting career on hold for it.”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” you said, laughing to the camera. “I’m calling Drew Starkey for this one. He’s going to lose his mind.”

Fans loved speculating about you and Drew. Your friendship had been under scrutiny for months, with fans pointing out how close you were off-screen. You’d both laughed it off in interviews, but recently, your feelings for Drew had started to shift. You’d been noticing his laugh a little more, catching yourself smiling at his texts for longer than usual. So this prank? It was the perfect opportunity to see how he’d react.

You dialed his number, nerves bubbling in your chest. After a few rings, Drew picked up.

“Hey, you,” he said, his voice warm and familiar. “What’s up?

“Hey, Drew. Um… I need to talk to you about something,” you said, trying to sound hesitant.

“Oh no. This sounds serious. Did you finally get banned from craft services?”

“Drew, I’m being serious,” you said, injecting some urgency into your voice, while trying to contain your laughter.

“I just… I’ve been offered this opportunity, and I wanted to get your opinion”

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “What kind of opportunity?”

You took a deep breath, setting the stage. “I’ve been asked to go on Love Is Blind.”

There was a beat of silence before Drew burst out laughing. “Wait, wait, wait. Love Is Blind? You? Oh, this is rich. Are they doing a celebrity edition or something?”

“No, it’s the regular one,” you said, feigning seriousness. “They reached out to me, and I think it’s a sign. I mean, I’ve been so focused on my career—maybe it’s time I try something new, you know? Like, find my soulmate.”

“Your soulmate? Through a pod?!” Drew was cackling now, but when you didn’t laugh along, he hesitated. “Wait… are you serious?”

“Yes, Drew!” you said, trying to sound exasperated. “I think this could be really good for me. But it means I’d have to take a break from Outer Banks for a while.”

“No. Nope. Absolutely not,” Drew said firmly, his tone more serious now. “You can’t leave Outer Banks. Are you kidding me?”

“Why not?” you asked, pretending to sound defensive.

“Because, for one, you’re too talented to leave all of this behind for some reality show. And two…” He paused, his voice softening. “The show would be awful without you. Like, genuinely terrible. And if you’re gone, who’s going to keep me sane on set?”

“I’m sure you’d manage,” you said, fighting to keep a straight face.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Drew said, his voice growing more animated. “Okay, you know what? If it comes down to this, I’ll just marry you myself. Problem solved. No pods, no weird dates, and Outer Banks keeps you. Win-win.”

Your breath caught at his words. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Drew said, laughing but also sounding genuine. “If that’s what it takes to keep you from leaving, I’ll do it. You’re not leaving, alright? End of discussion.”

For a moment you have to mute yourself to let out a laugh while Drew continues to rant but then there’s a second of silence on the end of the line and the tone of his voice shifted slightly, quieter now. “I mean… I don’t want you to leave. I don’t think I could do this without you. Not just the show, but… everything.”

Your heart raced as Drew trailed off, his words heavy with something unspoken. You weren’t sure what’s happening but you definitely didnt want it caught on camera so you quickly unmute yourself and let out an exaggerated laugh, cutting through the tension. “Drew, oh my God! It’s a prank!”

“What?” he asked, clearly thrown off.

“I’m filming a segment for Elle,” you explained, laughing as you tried to compose yourself. “I had to prank-call someone, and you were the perfect target.”

“Are you kidding me?” Drew groaned, though you could hear him laughing on the other end. “You’re unbelievable. I just fake-proposed to you. You realize that, right?”

“Oh, I realize,” you teased. “And I’m definitely not letting you live it down.”

You’re evil,” Drew said, laughing along with you, though you could hear the tension still lingering beneath his words. “You seriously had me going. I was about to start drafting a petition to keep you on Outer Banks.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, your voice light. “But thanks for the marriage proposal. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever decide to quit acting for real.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his tone playful again. “Remind me to prank you back when you least expect it.”

When the call ended, you turned to the camera with a big smile. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you successfully prank Drew Starkey. Bonus points for the fake marriage proposal.”

Later that evening, as you were heading home, your phone buzzed with a text from Drew.

Alright, you got me good. But seriously, don’t scare me like that again. I’d miss you too much. 😅 Also, come over later? I wanna talk about something.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the message. Whatever Drew wanted to talk about, you had a feeling it wasn’t just about the prank.

——————————

Let me know what u think? Requests are also open, check who I write for before requesting! 💗

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house��� Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

[bloodlineslut]

Mad at Me | Roman Reigns

Images/GIFs aren’t mine, credits to rightful owners.

Pairings: Roman Reigns x black! Reader

Warnings: slight arguing, pent up (sexual) frustration, smut, choking, spanking

Summary: You and your husband Roman have been bumping heads a lot lately, but he has just the thing to set you straight.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This one is kinda inspired by Mad at Me by Sexyy Red. It’s just filthy. That’s it.

“Baby, you gone stop this lil’ attitude you been having.” Roman firmly tells you while he pours some Crown Royal over ice. Lord knows he needs it.

“My attitude? Nah that’s been all you.” You sassily combat his words before flipping your goddess braids over your shoulder and walking up the stairs of your 2-story lavish home. Your plan was to just come upstairs to relax and get away from the source of your attitude, but you hear his heavy footsteps not far behind you.

You smack your teeth and roll your eyes as you walk into your shared master bedroom. “Roman, I just don’t wanna talk to you right now.” Truth be told, you’re not exactly sure why you’ve been mean to him. He hasn’t done anything wrong, really. You just wish he was at home more.

You glance up from your phone to see him firmly put his drink down on the dresser. He walks up to you and quickly takes your phone out of your hands and places it on the same dresser.

“Really?” You squint your eyes, looking up at his large figure. He had on black sweatpants and a fitted, black T shirt that displayed his muscles that looked like they were trying to break free. He’s also been getting a little more grey in his beard as the years go by, and it just makes him look even more fine.

“Yes, really. Baby, I’m getting tired of your lil’ smart ass mouth.” He admits.

Your mouth parts a little, surprised that he’s arguing back at you. Usually he keeps everything in when you get like this.

“Okay well I wouldn’t have a ‘smart ass mouth’ if you didn’t make me mad.” You cross your arms across your chest, unintentionally pushing your breasts together which caught Roman’s attention for a split second.

He licked his lips, but returned back to his upset expression on his face.

“But that’s the thing! I don’t know why you’re mad!” His voice raises just a little out of frustration.

You roll your eyes and turn your head to look away from him. “I already told you why I was mad.”

There was silence in the bedroom for a bit, but it felt longer with his eyes on you, raking up and down your body.

“…I know what it is.” Roman finally says, stroking his thick beard slowly.

You say nothing, wanting to hear if he finally figured it out.

“You need some of my attention.” He tells you. You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

Ugh, he has such a big ego.

“Oh please, Roman. If I want attention, I know how to get it.” You rebut his so-called realization.

“Yeah, you sure do. I haven’t been home as much, and you just need some attention.”

He walks closer to the edge of the bed, towering over you and brings one of his large hands to your chest, gently and firmly pushing you back to lay on the king-sized bed.

You don’t even have time to let out a smart ass remark because Roman captures your soft, plump lips in his. He took the lead in the kiss, caressing your lips, and you could taste the faint presence of the brown liquor. His hands wrapped around your thighs and hooked them around his waist.

You started to bring your hands to his face, but he stopped you and pinned them both to the soft mattress, and at the same time, he softly slipped his tongue into your mouth to start sloppily kissing.

All the anger and irritation that you felt towards him just seemed to melt away in his mouth as his kisses took your breath away. You let out a whimper and breathless moan.

His soft lips left your mouth, but stayed connected to your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses down your jaw, then to your awaiting neck. He licked a hot stripe up your sweet spot, then latched his lips right there and kissed and sucked it.

You bit your swollen lips and tried to break out of the hold that his hands still had on yours, pinned to the bed.

“If I let go, are you gon’ give me any more mouth?” His voice came out deeper than normal, so turned on and horny.

You helplessly shake your head no.

He unpins his hands from yours, but for some reason you keep them there, above your head. He notices this.

“Yea, you know what? Keep ‘em up there.” His lips leave your neck, trailing over your collarbone, kissing there, and then to your breasts.

“Giving me all that damn sass and shit…” He quietly growls out before wrapping his lips around your hard nipple and swirling his tongue around it. Your back arches up from the bed and closer to his mouth.

His other hand gently kneads your other breast, rolling the nipple between his thick, strong fingers.

You moaned out at the delicious feeling. It was like the pleasure from your nipples went straight down to your core, making more of your essence leak out of you and onto your pink panties.

Roman’s lips kissed across the valley between your breasts and wrapped his lips around the other nipple. His tongue swirling around it and sucking it made your head spin.

“This what you wanted baby?” He looks you dead in your eyes before resuming his delicious attack on your sensitive nipples.

You threw your head back on the bed in pleasure, unable to answer.

His lips left your nipple and you feel both of his strong hands on your waist, flipping you over on your stomach. He grabs your hips, so your ass is in the air.

You feel the bed lighten as he gets off it, but his presence is back just as quickly as it left. He took his sweatpants and boxers off, his heavy cock very erect.

You feel his hands grab and squeeze your cheeks, before landing a spank on one, and it makes you lurch forward a little.

He pulls you right back to where you were. “Mm mm. Ain’t no running, baby. You been acting like a little brat all week. I’m ‘bout to get all that outta you.” He lands another spank on your other cheek, enjoying watching the cheeks jiggle.

Roman hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and slides them off of your ass, but only pulls them down to stop at your knees.

He pulls your plump cheeks apart, seeing that little hole glistening, dripping, and squeezing around nothing.

“Unghh, Roman…please?” Your voice comes out in a whimper.

“Oh, now you wanna be nice?” He laughs. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy will get you right.” Those were the last words you hear before you felt his tongue lick up the length of your pussy.

It invaded all of your wet folds, spreading your wetness everywhere. His large hand grabbed your ass, pulling it away from his mouth, trying to spread you out as much as possible for his tongue.

You couldn’t even think straight, it felt so good. He maneuvered his skilled tongue up and down, slowly, but reaching every part of your pussy.

He then switched between flicking your exposed clit with his tongue and sucking it between his lips to get your taste in his mouth.

“Fuck, princess. You always taste so good.” He tells you then resumes back to delicately flicking your fluttering clit. He licked up to your hole, then stuck his tongue inside your pussy.

“Oohh Roman!” The words came out of your mouth before you realized it. He then got into a motion of moving his tongue in and out of your desperate hole.

This felt too good. You started to move your hips back, fucking his tongue. That made him groan out. “Come on baby, just like that.”

You were getting closer to your orgasm just by fucking his tongue when he suddenly pulled away. You looked at him over your shoulder.

“Why’d you stop?” You desperately ask him.

He smirks and kneels on the bed behind you. “Because I want you to take this dick and come on it.” He says lowly. You feel him rub the head of his heavy cock up and down your slick folds, his other hand resting on your hip.

He does this for too long. “Roman please just put it in,” You practically beg him. He doesn’t say anything but makes your wish come true. He slowly slides his thick length inside your tight pussy. He growled lowly at the intense pleasure.

He lets you get adjusted to his size, which he can tell by you not being so tense anymore. You just let your body flop against the bed.

He kept one hand on your hip and brought the other one to your shoulder, getting leverage. The first few thrusts were gentle, making you moan out.

Roman wanted you to lose yourself a couple times.

With both hands on your waist now, he increased the strength of his thrusts, but not going too hard. Just enough to make you want to run from him because it feels too good.

“I knew you just needed some dick.” His pleasure-filled voice rang out. Your face rested against the sheets. Your mouth was hanging open, not able to form words, and spit was leaking onto the sheets just like your juices were.

“Tell Daddy how good I’m digging you out.” Roman prompted and slowed his thrusts to be achingly slow, feeling every ridge, every inch of his cock rubbing against your walls.

“Mmm—it feels so good, Daddy.” You manage to get out.

He resumed his powerful, deep thrusts while looking at how your ass jiggled with each one. He raised his hand and brought a blow to your ass amid his thrusts. “You better act right after this.” He warns you.

Every thrust makes you crave more and more, so you say anything to keep him from stopping.

“I—I will Daddy. I’ll be so g—good.” You say in between your moans of pleasure and whimpers.

“Alright. Let me hit that spot for you, princess.” He forces your back to arch more so he can rub against your G-spot.

He finds it instantly, feeling you clench tighter around him.

“Oh fuck! Yesss—right there!” You scream out. He dug you out so good it made your head want to explode.

“Yeah? Come on, princess. You taking that dick so good.” Roman kept thrusting at that exact angle. You felt your orgasm quickly building and it finally hit you.

Your legs were shaking and you screamed as more of your juices leaked out and onto Roman’s dick.

He loved feeling your pussy clamp down on his dick like that and you always creamed too.

He let you ride your high, but then he gently pulled out and switched positions so that he laid on the large bed and you were straddling him. He brought your face down to his and kissed you, while positioning his length to enter you again.

Your mouth fell open in pleasure and he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. Roman wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug and drilled up into your crying pussy.

“Oh my God, shit Roman! Yo—you fuck me so good,” You moan into his ear.

“Because you was asking for it, baby.” He released you from his arms and you sat up with his hands on your hips.

Now he was making you move up and down. Slow, but hard. The combination of different styles made you feel your orgasm start to come quicker than usual. It was so intense you wanted to cry.

Roman was looking at you, biting his lip. He brought his hand up to your neck and squeezed just the slightest.

“Come on, baby.. Fuck yourself so you can come, and I’ll come with you.” Roman just always knew what to say to push you over that edge of losing yourself.

You keep bouncing on his throbbing dick and Roman feels his balls begin to tighten.

His hips meet your bouncing, more frantic, and your eyes roll back in your head as your orgasm hits you. Your walls tighten even more on his thickness, pushing him over the edge too.

Your thighs try to close together, but Roman keeps them open, his thumb landing on your clit and rubs circles on it to help prolong your orgasm as he comes inside of you.

“Fuck…” He lowly says as his mouth hangs open also.

You both try to catch your breath, both of you thoroughly satisfied now. Roman gently raises you up off of him, and wraps his arms around you once you’re laying next to him on the bed.

He kisses your forehead and you both are silent, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, Roman asks you a question.

“Did you really just need me?” He says in your ear.

You nod. “…I just missed you. I know you have to work, but—I don’t know. I guess I just let it control me..” You admit as you shyly look at his naked chest, tracing the tribal markings on his skin.

His fingers raise your chin up to look at his eyes. “Baby, you can tell me those things.” He says with honesty. You two kiss again.

“Hey, next time I’m away, and you miss me…just call me. I always answer.” He says after breaking away from the kiss. “I’ll even talk you through it over the phone.” He winks at you, making you hit his chest playfully and you both laugh before snuggling each other, waiting to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[enwoso]

I’m actually not sure if you’ve written about this before but, would you write a lovie story where lovie has a accident during the night or something like that and feel a bit embarrassed and scared to tell Alessia?

LITTLE WORRIES | alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy universe masterlist

it was a quiet night in the russo household, the soft hum of the tv playing in alessia’s room as she did her daily late night scroll on her phone, winding down from the busy day having put you to bed hours ago.

alessia had just turned out the bedside lamp, winding down to fall asleep when she heard the faintest sound from down the hallway.

a muffled shuffle, a hiccup and then silence. she paused slightly, waiting till she heard it again. her motherly instincts tingling.

“lovie?” alessia called out gently, slipping her feet into her slippers as she wrapped her dressing gown around her body keeping her from the cool air.

at first there was no reply, then after a moment came the smallest and quietest, “yeah?”

a frown appeared on alessia’s face as she headed to your room. pushing the door open softly, and there was you standing in the middle of the room with your hands bunched nervously in the hem of your pyjama top.

your big blue eyes were wide, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a little bit behind you was a distinct wet spot on your sheets.

as soon as alessia saw it her heart melted instantly, “oh lovie,” she said softly, crouching down to your height.

“i- i didn’t meant to,” you stammered out as your lip trembled. “i didn’t even know it happened till i woke up. i was dreaming and t-then…” you voice cracked as you looked down, ashamed filling your tiny features. “i didn’t want to tell you.”

alessia reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “hey, hey, it’s okay. mummy’s not upset with you” your mummy’s voice warm and soothing. “accidents happen baby, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about”

your chin wobbled, a slight feeling of overwhelming coming over you as you tried your best not to cry, “b..but i’m not a baby and i- i didn’t want you to think i am”

alessia smiled sadly as she pulled you into a hug, your mummy’s arms wrapping securely around your small frame and she rubbed a soothing hand up your back.

“you’re not a baby, lovie. your my big, brave girl! but even big brave girls have accidents sometimes. it doesn’t mean anything except your body had a little mix-up while you were sleeping”

“really?” you whispered into your mummy’s shoulder as you hear her hum.

“really,” your mummy’s arms wrapping said firmly, “i had accidents when i was little too. your still learning and you know what? it’s easy to clean up!”

you sniffled and nodded into your mummy’s shoulder neck, your little arms tightening around your mummy’s shoulders. “i didn’t mean to”

“i know you didn’t,” alessia smiled, standing up as she sat you on her hip like she always would when you were smaller. “how about we clean you up first then we can tackle the bed, together?”

“okay” you said, you voice soft and quiet but no longer trembling.

your mummy carried you to the bathroom, setting you down gently as she helped you into fresh pyjamas. as you washed your hands, alessia was already pulling out a new set of sheets as she hummed a tune which you recognised from bedtime.

together, you both peeled off the damp sheets. you holding one corner while alessia handled the rest. by the time you were done, the bed was fresh and clean again. the little accident forgotten about.

“see? all better” your mummy grinned, fluffing up your pillow and placing your blankets in the way you liked.

you smiled tiredly as you rubbed your eyes “thanks mummy”

your mummy kissed you on the forehead, “always lovie. now how about a quick cuddle before we go back to sleep?”

you nodded eagerly, climbing into your fresh bed as your mummy slipped in beside you. you clinging onto your mummy as she threaded her fingers through your hair.

your mummy’s arms making you feel safe and warm, “you don’t think i’m silly?” you whispered against your mummy’s chest.

“never! your the coolest girl i know!”

and with that, you closed your eyes, your embarrassment replaced by the comforting certainty of your mummy’s love.

[luveline]

I love bombshell reader. Would she ever get jealous?

Your eye is most definitely twitching. The pull and cinch of your lashes and the delicate skin of your eyelid distracts you mildly from the sight in front of you, but not for long. 

You rub at your eye with a perfectly filed nail, smudging intricate makeup all over the place. You remember your mascara only after you've mussed it and groan in annoyance. "Fucking fuck," you murmur, slipping a hand into your jacket pocket. 

"You okay?" Emily asks. 

Using your phone screen as a substandard mirror, you clean up the smudge you'd made of your make up with your pinky finger carefully. "I'm great," you say breezily. 

"You sure? You sound stressed." 

"She's jealous," Morgan says. Smugness lines his face and the otherwise handsome set of his mouth. 

You roll your eyes at him, to his bemusement, and sit back in your cold, leather-backed chair. "Sure, Morgan, I'm very jealous. Of what?" 

"Of our baby boy's new friend, obviously," he says. 

You don't give him the satisfaction of looking back at Spencer where he stands at the bar, nor do you let the practised smile you're wearing falter. Your guts an aching wound and your skin flushed with heat, you reach for the cherry coasting along the surface of your drink and pull it out by the stem, twisting it between your fingers. Unbothered on the outside, and an insecure, hurt mess on the inside. 

It really looked like Spencer was flirting with her. 

You chew your cherry for much longer than you need to for want of something to do, hot tears begging to well behind your eyes. Spencer isn't your boyfriend, you've held hands a couple times and that's that. He's allowed to want someone else. Someone prettier, smaller, she'd had a head of perfect braids and a dewy, do eyed smile. Cherry swallowed, you knock back your drink. 

"Sorry," Spencer starts, sliding into the booth next to you with another cherry sour for you and what looks like an ice cold glass of coke for himself.

You hadn't asked him for a drink and he hadn't mentioned getting you one. For a moment, the ugly weight of envy lifts from your shoulders. "Oh, thank you." 

"I just met this girl at the bar and she had something very interesting to ask me," Spencer says. 

You don't want to hear it. Morgan absolutely does, and with Emily to encourage him, they're happy happy torture you both. "Why's Penelope taking so long?" you ask, trying to change the subject too late. 

"What did she want, loverboy?" Morgan asks.

"Did you think she was pretty?" Spencer asks you.

Mortified, you stare at him. Plainly hurt, to his surprise, you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. "Why would you ask me that?" 

"Because she wants to ask you out?" Spencer's knee bumps yours. "She thinks you're, quote, intimidatingly pretty." 

Emily and Morgan laugh together gleefully. You're glad this is entertaining for them, but mostly you're relieved. You pick up your drink and take a sip, looking over Spencer's shoulder into the bar for the girl he'd been speaking with. She smiles shyly. 

"I'm assuming this is from her?" 

"What? No, that's from me." 

Your gaze flickers back to him. "Really?" 

"That's my boy," Morgan jokes, swinging his arm behind Emily's seat. She laughs approvingly. 

Firmly back on stable footing, you give Spencer your stickiest grin, looking over his pretty face greedily. He's looking at your drinks rather than you but his torso is turned your way, the backs of his fingers brushing your stocking clad thigh. "Maybe I should go let her down gently?" you murmur, shifting in your seat to turn his way too, flirting with the idea of touching his cheek. 

"You might not need to," he says. 

"How come?" you ask. 

"Well, I… I sort of implied you were taken. You know. With the drink. And I also might've said you weren't interested." 

"Yeah?" You put your hand on his shoulder, tracing a whisper of a path up the slope of it to the base of his throat. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not." 

Emily shakes the small bowl of roasted peanuts, a deviousness about her as she says, "Good for all of us. I've never seen Y/N that jealous before. For once, I thought we'd have to protect her from you." 

You could kill her. Flustered, you tilt your head to one side and look out over nothing, mumbling, "I wouldn't say I was that jealous." 

"No?" Spencer asks. "I can go tell her you've changed your mind." 

"Don't push your luck, Reid." 

[dilf-c0nn0isseur]

logan walking in on reader pleasuring themselves

logan howlett x fem!reader 18+

Logan pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and stepped out, making his way up the steps to your place. The mission he had been sent on ended earlier than expected and the first thing he wanted to do was see you, so he had hopped in his truck and drove over. He didn't bother calling to let you know. Besides, Logan was always showing up at your door unannounced, and you loved it.

He pulled out the spare key you had given him. It made him feel special that the two of you were in this phase of your relationship; him letting himself into your apartment whenever, you always being happy to see him. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, kicking his boots off as he shut it behind him.

When you didn't immediately run to the door to greet him, he ventured inside to your room, where the door was shut. He began to reach for the handle but froze just as his fingers curled around it. The sound of soft, breathy moans had caught his attention.

"Logan," the sound of his name spoken just above a whisper from inside your room made him tilt his head, a knowing smile forming on his lips. He listened to the sounds of pleasure coming from the other side of the door for a few beats longer before turning the handle slowly and stepping inside.

"Must've really missed me, huh Bub?," Logan chimed in.

The sudden, unannounced entrance of your boyfriend made you jump straight up, your fists gripping at the sheets around you. He chuckled at your shocked scream. "Holy shit, Logan!," you gasped. "You're back early." You could feel your face turn crimson; he had caught you in the act of touching yourself. Touching yourself to him, for gods sake.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, I just wanted to come see my girl, but I can see myself out and leave you to it." His playful teasing eased your previous mortification. You raised a hand to your forehead, brushing your hair out of your face with a sigh, your eyes squeezing shut for a second.

"Oh hush," you said with a sarcastic eye roll. You scooted over in your bed and gestured for him to come over.

He made his way over to you and sat down, assuming a pose of manspreading his legs and patting the spot between them on his lap. "It's so rude of me to interrupt you like that," he continued to tantalize. "So let me help you instead."

The tilt of his head, the way his eyes beckoned you to come to him, one eyebrow cocked upward and a devilish half-smile. You could've finished right there just to the sight of him. But you'd much rather cum on his fingers, so you took the invitation and moved to his lap, sitting with your back against his chest. One strong arm caged you against him while the other gently pushed your legs apart. You relaxed into him, leaning your head back against his shoulder. He planted a soft kiss in the crook of your exposed neck.

"I missed you."

His low, gravelly voice against your ear sent chills through your body. The wetness between your legs grew. "I missed you too."

"Missed me so much you were thinking of me while getting yourself off?," he quipped, his fingers gliding slowly up your thigh to your wet, aching cunt. You let out a small gasp as he slipped them between your folds.

"Fuck," you hissed. "Yes, I couldn't help it. Couldn't stop thinking about you."

Logan kissed your neck again tenderly. "I'm here to take care of you now princess."

One finger dipped inside of your pussy, followed closely by a second, letting you stretch around them. You whined quietly and reached a hand up to grip Logan's hair. He curled his fingers inside of you, stroking your g-spot. Your back arched up away from his chest in response but he pulled you back in with his arm that was wrapped firmly around your torso. "You like that?"

You were only able to manage a nod, your bottom lip bitten by your teeth.

"Better when I do it?" His fingers curled into you again.

"So much better."

He withdrew his fingers, now soaked from your pussy, and slid them up to your clit. Here, he traced delicate circles, gliding easily with your natural lubricant. His other hand that was holding you to his body grabbed your breast, mimicking the movement of his finger on your clit with your nipple.

"I missed you Logan," you whimpered.

"I'm gonna make up for being gone by making you cum, that sound good doll?"

You moaned in response, and he knew that was a yes. He continued his work on your clit and nestled into your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it. He sucked gently on several places and left faint marks to remind you he was there. His gentle, encouraging praises made your stomach drop. He felt you tense up against his body, his chest rising and falling with yours. You felt yourself approaching your climax.

"Let go for me," he urged. With his steady rhythm on your clit, you tipped over the edge, body overcome in orgasm. He pulled you tighter and let you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. "That's it, just like that."

When you finally came down from your high, you went limp on top of him. He flipped you over so that you were face to face with him. "I missed you so much," he said before pressing his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. Once you drew back, you rested your head on his firm chest. His hand held the back of your head and stroked your hair. Within minutes, you had fallen sound asleep with his body as your pillow. Logan soaked in every second, already dreading the next time he had to leave you.

[casdeans-pie]

Dean's ribs are aching.

He presses a hand against his skin, feeling the solid bones under his palm, and tries to imagine the ornate carvings running across them - remembers what the x-ray looked like. But his mind keeps getting stuck on the feeling of Cas's hand, strong and sturdy, in the center of his chest, and the pleasant burn that'd taken his breath away when he'd pressed into him.

A sensation that had been perfectly balanced on the knife-edge of pain and pleasure.

Dean lets out a shaky breath and tugs the scratchy motel sheets closer as he turns over, unable to stop being so aware of it all. A particularly loud snore from the bed next to him tells him that Sam isn't having the same problem.

It only takes another few minutes of Dean gritting his teeth and willing himself to go to sleep before he gives up with an angry sigh.

When he exits the room quietly, hoping to get some air and clear his head, he nearly walks straight into Castiel himself. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean yelps, then catches his volume, glances at the room behind him, and adds in a hissed whisper, "What are you doing here?"

Cas, for once, looks startled and a little guilty. "Hello, Dean," he says, voice rumbling quietly, "my apologies, I didn't expect anyone to leave the room until the morning."

"Yeah, that doesn't really answer my question, buddy. You were kind of loitering."

Cas shifts his weight a little in a nervous gesture that amuses Dean because it looks almost human. "I've been informed that watching over you while you sleep from your bedside is" - he squints his eyes - "creepy."

Dean can't help the huff of a laugh that escapes him. "'Cause it is."

Cas frowns. "And I can no longer sense either of you due to your sigils, so..."

(Dean presses his hand to his chest, echoes of the pleasure-pain running through his ribs.)

Cas's eyes flick down at the movement, but snap back up before Dean can put a name to the expression that passes over Cas's face. "So I have been watching over you... both of you... from outside your room instead. While I still know your current location," he adds sadly.

"Keeping tabs on us like this is still creepy Cas," Dean says, but there's no heat in it. In fact, he's surprised to realise that he really doesn't mind the idea of Cas watching over him- them.

"I can no longer sense you," Cas repeats, more upset this time.

A blue neon sign for the motel shines from above them, casting a moody blue light over Cas - catching the tips of his messy hair, and lighting up his eyes so that they're almost glowing. He's lit up in a way that reminds Dean of the Angel he really is, and it makes his ribs ache.

Dean grips the shirt over his chest in a tight fist.

Again Cas's gaze flicks down.

"What do they say?" Dean says so quietly it's nearly just a breath.

Cas must understand what Dean means, even though what he said makes no sense, because he replies, "It means you are to be kept away from all the eyes of the Angels, and none have permission to know of your location or gaze upon you." Cas reaches a hand up, suspends it in the air, and then lets it fall back to his side.

Dean feels a pulse race through his bones as he impulsively reaches for Cas's hand and places it on his chest, covering it with his own and pressing it down firmly. Warmth that feels like protection and safety rushes out from where their hands press together.

"I give you my permission," Dean says quietly, into this moment they've created, under the unnatural blue light of the motel sign, and the silent night around them.

Cas's eyes are wide and Dean feels his hand shaking. "You..." he visibly swallows and licks his lips. "You shouldn't say things like that to an Angel, Dean."

"Yeah? Well, too late. I mean it Cas. You've got my permission. And I know that means jack to symbols literally carved onto my bones, but it means you physically checking in with me if you want to know where we are - use your cellphone - and if I text you our motel room, and you're not, y’know, doing rebel Angel stuff, you can be our lookout." Dean feels silly all of a sudden and drops Cas's hand, stuffing his own into the pockets of the sweatpants he shoved on before he left the room. "And if I can't sleep, maybe we can talk outside again like tonight. Or whatever."

After a beat of pure silence the light on Cas's face from the sign seems to intensify and Dean can suddenly hear it buzzing.

The handprint on his shoulder pulses in time with the beat of his heart and the ache in his ribs.

"I would like that," Cas rumbles, a gentle smile on his lips.

Dean clears his throat and absentmindedly rubs his chest again. "Okay. Well. Good talk. I should- I should go back to bed- lots of big days coming up- world to save- goodnight, Cas." Dean doesn't want to call what he's doing running away, but he certainly does a good impression of it when he turns around and ducks back into the room.

A soft, "Goodnight, Dean," follows him inside before the door clicks shut behind him.

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hamsternella]

maybe headcanons of Bill Cipher being obsessed with us for being Ford's wife, but at first he feels jealous and gradually that changes as he finds we have equal things (e.g. we are blind, and that makes Bill start to want to get more intimate with us as he has with Ford because he finds that we have also been despised/put aside because of that difference), and maybe he wants to make a deal with us but we refuse out of loyalty to Ford and that makes Bill jealous- but now of Ford, not of us lmao sorry if that is confusing or too specific.

Are you going to write any Gravity Falls fanfic on the side? I've seen your poll and I'm very excited

HELLO, and no problem. Here it is, I hope you like it.

As for the fanfic, I do plan to write one. Actually, it's in drafts; I just need to correct what I have written. I don't know if I should make it long or cut it and put it in chapters.

PART TWO

Bill Cipher being obsessed with you [headcanon]

cw: fem!reader, non-con touching, possessed body, jealousy, maybe a bit of ooc(?

The reason Bill begins to feel his plan is threatened is because of you. As much as Ford has him on a pedestal, you are still the main reason for his early accomplishments. The special person who has been with him since his college discovery years.

You're not like McGucket; your judgment carries paramount weight in Ford's most decisive decisions. You're not a mentally dazzling woman, not like him, but your claws keep you firmly entrenched behind Sixer's back. Bill repudiates that—it makes no sense at all!

As if that weren't enough, the affair culminates with you being blind. Can there be anything much more repugnant than a romance fueled by misfortune? Ford is drawn to your sincere heart, and you support him unconditionally because beyond your husband's obsession, your love for him seems to break down the most terrifying walls. And how can you be afraid of something you can no longer see?

Bill feels he has the enemy breathing behind his back. For the first time he thinks he can't solve everything with a kick to the rock in the middle of the road.

The closest thing to a tantrum you get from him —unknowingly— are regular nightmares, a weak body and constant paranoia about unfamiliar sounds and sensations. Your home is suddenly a new world; frightening and strange. Because of this you become clumsy and unpredictable, and even your husband doesn't understand what it is that has you so off track.

Bill can't use his influence on your reality at all, but through Ford and other extensions, as well as fine print manipulations, he manages to reach you without arousing suspicion.

''I've told you many times, Bill,'' sighed Ford with his back turned, both hands placed on his journal. ''I don't think I can go through with this completely until I manage to find a way to help my wife.''

''Isn't this a sign that it's time to get her out of your way?''

"Excuse me?’’ The man turned his attention to the demon; his eyes laden with bitterness and desolation. ''What do you mean by that? I can't abandon my wife, Cipher—she would never do something like that to me.''

''Well,'' Bill chuckled, ''it's not like she's really done anything for you all this time. This project is our thing, Fordsy, and it shouldn't be interrupted by a little stumble that doesn't even belong to us. Or are you going to give up everything you've sacrificed for this?''

''You have understood me like no other, Bill; I admit that there is no person or creature existing on this planet who can do all that you have done for me,'' admitted Ford solemnly. ''But she's my wife—she's been around even before you, when I was nobody. When I had nothing. And even when I came to Gravity Falls and left everything behind she was always there. Bill, I... I can't, I'm sorry.''

Bill held back another complaint, beginning to notice that things were not working out the way he had wanted. Your clumsiness didn't kill Ford's patience or control, but what little sanity —if any— there was in him. It was humiliating; Bill Cipher losing to a human being, a random woman—blind, to make it worse.

The demon was beginning to withdraw in on himself, frustration rising to anger, when Ford's voice from the entrance to the room drew his gaze back. There was a different gleam in his companion's, and Cipher understood with annoyance where the conversation would end up now.

Your husband introduces you to the possible solution to all your problems: Mr. Cipher, a doctor and close friend of Stanford. A mysterious man with a booming voice that makes your hair stand on end, but at the end of the day a man of studies and degrees. Of course you were going to trust your husband's recommendation.

''What a coincidence that you happened to be passing by, sir! Thank you for offering to help me. That's very kind of you.''

Bill starts pretending to be your personal doctor in search of a miracle solution to your problems. It's not hard to avoid contact with you to hide the truth; Ford tries hard to keep the situation straight.

If the demon hated you before, now you better start praying.

Cipher understands that he needs to play along with Ford if he wants the project to stay on track, even if that means starting to help you heal while containing his desire to get rid of you.

Maybe if he possessed Stanford and took advantage of you during your naps.

Maybe.

But he knows better than that—Ford isn't stupid. Not stupid enough, at least.

It was humiliating to have to take care of what he himself had caused, but it's not as if Bill could afford any other way to get back on the project. Ford was all he had. Where was he going to get someone else capable enough? This had been fate; interrupted at the last minute by the appearance of a bad third. This was all your fault. Blind little rat—woman busybody with a sweet smile and giggly voice. Cipher understood why Sixer was where he was with you, on the one hand. On the other it was all the same: a whim that cost dearly. Who needed someone like you? What was the benefit? Sex, maybe? But Bill Cipher was a thousand times better than something so banal! Please…

Bill rolled his eye, snapping his fingers to undo the nightmare you were in. As soon as your dream was undone you let out an exclamation of surprise, jumping on the bed. You brought a hand to your face, feeling the sweat, and almost immediately moved your body to where he lay. Cipher held back surprise, finding himself genuinely intrigued.

''Doctor,'' you whispered hoarsely, ''good afternoon. I... Forgive me, I think I fell asleep—it was sudden, I don't know what came over me...''

''Did you know it was me here with you?''

The smile you gave him threw him off. A ''Well, yes, isn't it very obvious?'' kind of grimace.

''Does your husband know that you have these nightmares during our therapies?''

'Therapies' sounded fancy, but it was shorthand for the tortures Bill forced you to go through; a theater of supposed recovery to cover up his need to hurt you.

“He doesn't know, doctor. I haven't told him, if I'm honest,'' you replied. ''Please don't tell him anything.''

''It would be unethical!''

‘’Pretending to be a doctor is also unethical, sir,’’ you laughed. ''I am blind, not stupid.’’

Killing you was going to be the only solution to all of this—although from that day on nothing else ever happened.

Bill has to accept that you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve. You're not just any woman anymore; being Ford's wife had to have been warning enough for him.

You continue to not remind him of his charade and allow him to continue 'treating' you, while your husband resumes the plans for the portal.

Surprisingly, Bill seems to have found interest in something much more striking.

You.

The nightmares subside, your mood and judgment improve, and Cipher finds a strange pleasure in this new side of you: much more alert, more talkative and wittier. You have your charm.

But it's your husband who pulls the reins. Bill gets it right away.

Evenings with you aren't exactly revelatory like they are with Ford, who always has enough data and information to surprise everyone with. With you it's different; it's something much more intimate and almost forgotten by Bill. He knows so much that it would be impossible to be taken by surprise—but you manage to do it.

He is overcome with a nostalgic and unpleasant feeling, but which ironically keeps him alive as he decides to lie to Ford.

Bill doesn't want to let you go. It's strange. Maybe he got used to another glaring presence besides Sixer? Torturing you a little more in silence to keep you under his care should not be a stupid thing to do at all.

Cipher encounters another particular feeling: curiosity. He needs to know why you know what you know; and what it is, above all else, that keeps you here.

What keeps you with so much power over him, Bill Cipher.

''Are you saying that I have tricks up my sleeve? I don't get it, doctor...''

''Oh! Oh, please,'' Bill interrupted, thunderous laughter bouncing across the room. ''You know I'm no doctor; the title is ridiculous.''

''Should I call you 'Mr. Cipher' instead?''

Bill held back a sigh, rubbing his eye for a moment before orbiting around you. If you had noticed, you didn't say or do anything. Your eyes, white as opaque pearls, remained fixed on a corner of the room.

''Since when did you know I wasn't a doctor? No, better yet, since when did you know I wasn't human?''

''Well, it's not quite like that either,'' you replied under a soft laugh. ''You just revealed to me that you are not human. As for the doctor thing... Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think that dream therapies and transverse snoring with citrus scent induction while dipping my feet in spoiled milk is something a professional would recommend.''

Bill pretended not to be offended.

''Besides that,'' you continued, ''I know my husband very well. I know that he hides dangerous things down there, where I cannot reach by myself, just as I know everything that has been happening is not the product of chance.''

''Did you know all this time that your nightmares and fears have been my doing?''

‘’No, not really. You just confessed it to me.''

‘’Oh, come on!’’ Bill shook his fists in the air, abruptly remembering that you couldn't see him. It was strange, you seemed to know the world you inhabited even though your eyes wouldn't let you. The thought made the demon orbit around you again, returning in front of you. Opaque pearls; gaze lost in the open. "I've had a majestic revelation at this very moment! Do you want to hear it, or will your big, bold woman brain let you know in advance what I have to say?”

"I have a slight feeling you don't like me.”

“Yes or no!”

“Of course, tell me.”

"I have to assume you weren't born blind; this must be the product of an accident," Cipher began to say. "That would explain why the hell you do everything you do, and why the fuck you know where I am.”

"That's right, Mr. Cipher," you nodded. "I've had an accident, though I suppose you know that because you've infiltrated me. Either that, or my husband told you.”

"So you did know that I'm a demon?”

“You just—”

“Oh, shut up! Don't fucking say it again.”

Your coexistence with Bill becomes pleasant, despite the early revelation of his nature and his having been the cause of your misfortunes.

Cipher comes to believe that he may have been wrong; maybe you were stupid after all.

But that would be crazy! Unlike with Ford, with you the feelings are extremely nostalgic and warm. There is no trace of some kind of farce or genuine morbid interest behind your words. You believe everything you say.

Bill, who despite not sleeping or dreaming, being haunted by the memory of screams and an old distorted and flat reality, finds in your company a comfort zone that makes him delirious.

Sadly, your heart and your judgment is still tied to Sixer—as if that brainiac cared at all!

Bill begins to drive Ford crazy; he feeds him extensive knowledge, possesses him more often to enjoy the benefits, and then alters his memories, making it difficult for him to know what is truth and what is a lie.

Where he can no longer meet your needs, Bill is always there to dazzle you.

You jumped in your seat, feeling your husband's warm hands wrap around your neck. Fingers, rough from machines and dust, caressed your skin awkwardly, drawing a chuckle from you. His breath came to you from above, as if he had just sighed in delight at your reaction. When you felt him rest his hands on your shoulders, you slowly brought one of yours to caress the back of his. You felt him tremble.

''I thought you were sleeping?'' you asked with genuine interest. ''Is everything all right? All these days you've been doing the same thing.''

''Do you mind, beautiful?''

You stifled a laugh.

''No, Ford, your company would never be a bother to me... Are you smelling my hair?''

‘’I just can’t get enough of you.’’

You felt him circle your body, delineating one of the chairs near you so he could relax his body in it. You didn't last long without his hands—as soon as he resumed his seat, you felt his fingers intertwining with yours. This time it was more consistent and comfortable; not like all those days where it seemed like your husband had forgotten how to use his own body.

''Oh, dear! Seeing you with these two orbs of nerves and membrane is amazing! You look even more dazzling.''

Although the comments without any context or sense were still there.

''I'm not that great,'' you said with a small laugh. A little shy. Ford didn't used to give you so many compliments. “How's your project going?’’

‘’That thing? Good, very good. Excellent, my dear! Maybe you could see for yourself—oh, well, you can't,'' he guffawed. ''Right. Whatever! Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?''

‘’Y-Yeah, sure, honey.’’ You cleared your throat. ‘’What’s the matter?’’

''Hypothetical scenario. You're married, but you're not quite fulfilled. Suppose someone comes along who is much better than your husband,'' he explained. ''He's smart, funny, multifunctional, powerful, extra-dimensional, or very soon will be, and also very stylish!'' Silence. Moments later an exclamation. ''Do you have a favorite color? His favorite color is yellow!''

‘’I… I mean, sorry, but I actually don’t understand at all where’s the question.’’

‘’Don’t be silly! Would you leave your husband for this entity—excuse me, for this person?''

‘’What?’’

‘’The heck.’’

Another booming laugh, and though you tried to accompany it with your own, the sound that came from you was choppy and awkward. This exchange was strange.

''I can't find a reason to leave my husband for this so-called mystery person,'' you replied. ''I am supposed to have married him for a reason which should be more than enough. Ford,'' you rushed on, ''is this regarding Mr. Cipher?''

''Why?'' he asked at once. ''Why do you think of him all of a sudden? Do you feel something forbidden about him in this marriage?''

''But of course not!''

''What do you mean ‘no’?!’’

His hands let go of yours. The chair in front of you seemed to be dragged, the wood against the floor squeaking with the sudden friction. The movement had taken you by surprise.

‘’Ford?’’

''Why are you so happy? Why, huh?'' he sighed, frustrated. ''Haven't I abandoned you every night in a freezing bed, while I prefer the company of machines? Cipher has been very kind to you and kept you company!''

''Ford, what are you—wait. Wait a moment... Bill, is this you?'' You covered your mouth, terrified at the discovery. Your companion didn't respond and you simply let out a shaky breath. ''Are you possessing my husband?’’

‘’Damn, that was fast.’’

‘’That’s awful!’’

"There was full consent!" added Bill with a chuckle. "This is a man-to-man thing, my pretty little fleshbag. Something between colleagues, plain and simple. You needn't fear—Bill Cipher is taking care of everything.”

"But it's horrendous anyway!" you exclaimed with your voice splitting. "It all makes sense now... The words, the touches, the way you acted—it was all a sham! You were using my husband!”

"Oh, please, little one. Wasn't it you who dreamed of being able to touch me?”

"You, not a substitute class using Stanford's body! Have you two been doing these kinds of exchanges all along?”

"It's just that there was a change of plans!”

“A change? What—”

“I mean, I tried to kill you; but it's not that easy now,” he laughed.

You tried to calm your breathing. Your heart was beating painfully against your chest, and your whole body was trembling. This wasn't right, obviously. It was like a vivid nightmare.

“Not that I want to do it, of course.”

“Why?” you asked after a long silence.

You felt the presence of your husband's body very close to you. A pair of hands rested on your cheeks, caressing them with his fingers very softly; the touches getting lost under the trembling of your figure when you heard again a sigh of delight. Something was up.

“You know,” he whispered, “I think we could make a deal. A little, pretty one, and just for you.”

“A deal? A deal with a demon, you mean. No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on! It will be fun!”

“And it makes no sense.”

Bill turned away from you, returning to his chair to take a seat across from your body.

"What exactly is it that Ford gives you that I can't manage to satisfy? Because very soon the little project will be complete, and I will have full disposal of many wonderful tricks to take care of you, my dear," he continued. "An eternity together! We'll be able to create and tell thousands of new stories; to travel across the world and let you experience hundreds of new sensations. We'll be unstoppable! Incomparable!”

"That's not the way things work, Bill…”

"Things work because of the strongest. I will soon be the only one with that title.”

"What will happen to Ford?" you asked haltingly. "What will you do to my husband?”

"He's my co-worker, dear.”

"You're hiding something from me.”

"So what if it is? He doesn't matter here! It's our time... You're mine.”

The way your husband's voice was beginning to distort sent a shiver through your body. You loved Ford—you missed him. The idea that you had been kissing the lips of a man possessed a couple of days ago was turning your stomach. Your silence seemed to feed something inside the demon; his voice thundered, totally changed, across the room.

"A few weeks ago you said you missed the stars," added Bill. "The last time you saw them was when you were a teenager. I miss the stars too—the ones I saw with a different eye. It's not the same anymore. Nothing is, since..." Silence. You didn't dare interrupt the creature who seemed to be drowning in bitter memory. It took him a while to pull himself together; a split laugh piercing your ears like an arrow. "Oh, the misery! I thought it repulsive the way you two looked so united over something so pathetic. Anyway, what does the past matter now, what does misery matter! There's no such thing being with Bill Cipher. You'll want for nothing.”

"I refuse, Bill.”

"And I refuse too," he laughed. "See? We can play the same game, silly. I don't recommend testing my patience, though.”

The touch of palms against the warm skin of your neck took you by surprise. The roughness of those fingers you loved so much were now forbidding you to breathe; the softness of moist lips pressing against yours, taking advantage of the way you parted yours to find a sliver of air. You soon struggled against your husband's body, desperate to deny the foreign tongue that flicked unseemly and inexperienced inside you. Bill was drowning in an unfamiliar feeling that felt too good. You were soft, fragile. Your flesh was tender and warm, quivering like an animal about to die—he was going to devour it to the bone. Was this what Ford had been doing with you? You liked it?

He could kill you. He could end your life when the portal was complete; he could take advantage of Ford, as he had been doing all this time, and keep the prize all to himself. Why was it so hard? What was it you had done to him? Was Ford a victim too? The thought burned like a fierce fury at the back of his mind—jealousy once again. The need to own even the crumbs. Ford wouldn't have the right to be your victim anymore. This feeling was too good for that brainiac to understand, surely he never did.

But Bill understood everything. He was incomparable. He could dominate your life and hold the reins as well as Ford had been doing. No. Cipher was going to do better! Did you miss your husband's domination? Bill would be your ruler; he would destroy obstacles and build better ones to keep you in check. Maybe a little training and you'd become a beautiful little bag of flesh and muscle—tight, warm and obedient. And who knows if you'd end up exceeding his expectations! Who knows if a little gift occupying your orbs would give you the chance to enjoy the same star-studded sky together.

"Don't think too much," whispered Bill pantingly. "There's plenty of other things to do than something as dull as that. Don't worry your pretty little head.”

You shook your head, surrendered to crying. Your husband's hands had left your neck, but now they wrapped around your wet cheeks, offering shy caresses.

"From now on you're going to use it when I say so. Everything will be that way, and you know why?”

A crooked laugh vibrated against his chest, reaching you through his hands.

"Because now you will be my new pet. A special one! The best of them all… You could say ‘muse’, even. Isn't that beautiful, dear?”

A cold kiss. The last one.

“Aren't you, above all, beautiful too?”

[littlesparklight]

Pissed off I had to get an idea and had to write it down. Anyway, something something about Odysseus, the Hesiodic children by Kalypso, and what he might be pushed to contemplate in the direst of straits.

He was content to merely recover, at first.

Seventeen days tossed at sea, starving and thirsting, had been hard, and Kalypso's cave was well-appointed, the goddess-nymph herself welcoming and soft. A respite after such despair. A soothing of both mind and body, in food, in sleep, in her soft arms.

But a year passed, and unlike with Kirke, he didn't need Polites to urge him to ask Kirke to aid them in leaving. Kalypso, however, ignored him. She might well have missed his musing at first, spoken in half-sleep desire against her breast one night; he had been distracted, and so, perhaps, had she. But when he presented the request days later at breakfast, she blinked, staring at him with large, luminous eyes, blue-gray like the storming sea, and then put a cup of wine in his hands.

A full year later many more requests voiced, her stomach was curving under his hand.

He left her cave for the day for the first time, refusing intending to stay away.

But while her island was a gentle respite, and he had seen many bushes and nut-bearing trees, and a fair few rabbits earlier (they were providing the meat she served at meals; there were no other animals aside from birds and fish in the shoals around the shores), when he went looking to make himself a meal near sunset, he could find nothing. The next morning, nothing, either.

The third day, he went back to Kalypso, and she welcomed him like he hadn't been gone.

He left the next morning, but unwilling to suffer an empty stomach and carving away at his strength, he comes back at night. To her table, and, even though he doesn't want to any longer, her bed.

There was a winter storm tearing at the cold, gray sea, not yet into the third year, when Kalypso gave birth.

"Your son, my Odysseus," she proclaimed as she came into the main room of the cave, tired but practically singing, a glow about her as she handed a swaddled bundle over. "Nausinous."

The infant was an infant, small in his arms. He didn't look like Telemachos, Odysseus was sure, but memory was a little fuzzy on the matter. He sat there, staring down at the sleeping boy, until dark lashes fluttered open. Huge, luminous blue-gray eyes meet his with the unfocused wont of babies, and Odysseus was relieved. The boy really didn't look like Telemachos.

That was what he told himself, anyway, as the months passed.

As he saw - though he tried to ignore him and Kalypso, but he had to go back in the evenings after the weather and season turned and he could flee for the day outside once more - the infant grow, past the age he'd last seen Telemachos. Those luminous eyes remained, declaring firmly who the child's mother was, and that made it - easier. But Nausinous had thick, curling dark hair and chubby cheeks and---

"Papa!"

The delighted cry cut through the air, and Odysseus stormed out of the cave to avoid his tottering infant son attempting to walk to him.

He had never gotten to see Telemachos try to walk. He'd just about begun to crawl when the second muster was called.

Hunger and a comfortable place to sleep ever drew him back to Kalypso's cave, no matter his attempts at avoiding the cave's inhabitants. He could not avoid the child in truth, and it was hard to ignore him, to harden his heart against those huge eyes and chubby little fingers whenever they shared a table. Nausinous was quickly put in his own chair in preference of his mother's lap (he'd made it himself, Kalypso seemingly not realizing the boy couldn't sit in a regular chair just yet and growing impatient with the boy), and he was the one to dry off child-sticky chins and cheeks, he was the one to have to put the boy to bed. Odysseus knew Kalypso was partially forcing him into doing this by ignoring the child intentionally - he knew she wanted him to spend time with their son - but she also seemed to have lost interest quite quickly, as Nausinous grew out of his first few months and into his first year.

He could not imagine that happening with Penelope, and after that there would also be Eurykleia. But here there was only he and Kalypso, and Nausinous couldn't take care of himself.

"Hi."

Odysseus choked on a wet, half-groaning sob, dragging a hand down his face. Nausinous plopped himself down on the sand beside him, chubby, not-yet-five year old legs stretched out in front of him. He hadn't expected the boy to come all the way over here, but he was a stubborn child. And maybe he was realizing his mother didn't have much patience for him; those huge eyes seemed to be everywhere, Nausinous more quiet than he talked, watching. Odysseus didn't want to think it, but it reminded him of how both Eurykleia and his mother had described him as a child.

Had Telemachos been like that at Nausinous' age? Was he still so? Was his nature something else entirely?

"You should go back," he managed, sucked in a breath through his nose. It pushed back the tears. Kalypso was pregnant again. She'd told him this very morning. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Papa's here," the little boy said, patting the sand into a vague tower, but they were too far up on the beach for it to hold shape. "Why?"

"… I'm missing home."

"Home?" Nausinous looked up, those huge, luminous eyes impossibly piercing for a child not quite yet five, and this was an infant, a child, yet Odysseus' heart quavered under the stare, reminding far too much of his mother.

"I came from elsewhere, before you were born," he said shortly, because he wasn't going to sit here and talk to a little child about what he missed, of Ithaka, Penelope and his son; what he was missing as the years passed - Nausinous' growing an aching reminder of that fact, and Kalypso's not-yet showing second pregnancy.

Kalypso named their second son Nausithous.

Odysseus felt like he was drowning though he was breathing sweet, clear air, ever salty with the sting from the sea. He ended up shouting at Nausinous the once, to leave him alone; to get back home, and then he regretted it as he watched the child grow pale, his eyes even larger, and try to hold back swimming tears. Regretted it even as he resented not knowing if Telemachos had ever looked like that, resented it even as he caught up with the sobbing boy and lifted him up in his arms - he was getting heavy. Regretted it, because it's not Nausinous' fault he was here, that either of them were were. If anything, it was his fault the boy was here, caught between a father weeping on the beach and a divine mother growing ever more distant as she cooed over the babe-in-arms.

And then Kalypso said she was letting him go.

He didn't believe it at first. Made her swear an oath, but she swore it willingly and gave him everything he needed to build a raft and hope sung in his breast for the first time in years.

At least until Nausinous came to watch, standing there quietly for a long while, intently watching, before he spoke up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going home," Odysseus said, then regretted that too, watching the luminous eyes grow hooded in the edge of his vision. Of course Nausinous would understand what he was saying out of what he wasn't saying. But he couldn't take the boy with him. Kalypso's distant face as she watched Nausinous play with a toy horse he'd carved for their son intruded on his mind. Odysseus closed his eyes. "Do you want to help? I can tell you about Ithaka."

He wasn't sure what he was doing, but distracting Nausinous with tales of home got them through three days without tears, got them through his own indecision. It wasn't a good idea, not knowing what he'd do when - if - they both came to Ithaka unscated, but he couldn't imagine leaving Nausinous here. Kalypso could keep Nausithous - at a couple months, the infant barely knew more than his mother's breast, anyway.

And surely now that she'd had one child she might be more ready to deal with her second. Not that Odysseus had ever considered it possible a woman wouldn't want her own children, whether she had a nurse for them or not. But Kalypso was a goddess-nymph - what did he know of the workings of divine women?

The raft was packed, he was half a breath from stepping onto it, and turned around.

Kalypso caught her breath, her eyes shining, but Odysseus held a hand out to his five year old son.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Yes!"

The boy flew over, colliding with his legs and Odysseus could only hope this wasn't a mistake. Could only push down the sour resentment over never having had Telemachos do something like this to him, forcing him to try to catch his balance.

"Well," Kalypso said, her voice tight, a storm in her eyes. "If you're taking the one, you can take the other, too."

Odysseus didn't get a chance to say anything as she shoved their baby son at him, and the wind pushed him and Nausinous onto the raft, as well as the raft out into the water.

It went… fine, at first. Despite that he had an armful of baby and a five year old with him.

Then came the storm. Odysseus wasn't sure how he survived that, even less how he still had both children with him, Nausithous against his chest and Nausinous clinging to the mast with him. Especially when he'd had to tear both his and the boy's clothes off to ensure they weren't too heavy and got dragged down.

The problem, in the end, wasn't the storm or the rough sea; there was land so very close by. The problem was that the storm refused to abate, the sea refusing to calm, and he was only a single man with two arms. Nausinous eyes were so very huge, even larger in his tired, pale face. There was no way he'd be able to hold on, and the mast wasn't really large enough to support both of them easily. It kept dipping at the ends, in the middle, with each and every wave. If it sank, they were both lost. And the baby in his arms made it harder to both cling to the mast himself, as well as keep Nausinous from slipping off the mast and into the waters.

Odysseus stared at the distant, yet so very close shore. Stared at his sons, one beside him, one against his chest.

It'd be so much easier if he was alone.

It wouldn't guarantee he would survive, but it would be easier, and neither of these two children were Telemachos.

Nausinous cried out, choking on sea water, as a wave slammed over and into them. Odysseus, heart hammeing in his chest - guilt, anger, frustration - shoved his hand under the surface and caught his son by the hair, yanking him up and holding him there until he was clinging to the wet, water-swollen wood again.

It would've been so easy to not snatch him back.

It would have been so much simpler and easier to let Telemachos die to the plough, too; it would've kept him home for these decades, would've kept him away from the sea, away from all of this. That had been unthinkable then, and he still couldn't imagine doing that to Telemachos now. Odysseus glanced down once more, to the baby and the five year old beside him.

He was so tired.

He had done what he had to, with Iphigenia. And he had done what had seemed necessary, when it came to the son of Hektor; they were, after all, killing all the men of Troy, and letting the son of the man who'd been so troublesome, the heir to king Priam himself escape merely because some had sympathy to his wife, who undoubtedly was a worthy, stalwart woman and mother was foolish. Not safe. He would do what he had to, to ensure Troy could never retaliate.

Others' children, that.

And now, if he only had both arms, he could keep himself as well as Nausinous on the mast more easily. If there was only him, he wouldn't have to worry about the weight on the mast being too much. If he---

"Unhappy man!"

Odysseus almost drowned himself in his surprise when a goddess rose from the sea.

He did not need to follow his line of thought to the end, or his growing willingness to do so for his own sake. Not even when Poseidon sent yet more waves at them; the veil Leucothea gave him helped keep the boys safe and his strength sure enough, even when struggling until the nearby river god at his plea stilled the waters close to his outflow. And as he staggered onto the shore, both children still with him, Odysseus ignored the guilty weight in his heart with grim determination, for he needed to see both to himself and the boys, and could not linger on the revelation that in the end, it wasn't just other's children he might have been willing to sacrifice.

[ryescapades]

Togame Jo + sfw + “Can I sleep with you—like next to you? Is that weird to ask…?” :]

→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: “can i sleep with you— like next to you? is that weird to ask…?” characters: togame jo (wbk) x gn!reader contents: fluff, reader has trouble sleeping, they’re still kinda new in the rs? soft bf!togame <3 wc ~ 1k (not proofread)

a/n: tried to mino-insert but erm togame aside, what if this is ooc mino.. /sniff

“you sure you wanna sit this one out?”

togame’s skepticism sounds from one corner of the living room, and you turn your head to look at him. his tall frame stands by the window, long fingers peeking through the blinds at the tempest raging outside. he throws you a questioning glance when you take a second too long to reply, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“yeah, i’m sure. i got stuff to do tomorrow so it’s best that i get home by tonight,” you answer, mentally reprimanding yourself for openly staring at him. togame hums and nods slowly, though you can still see the wariness seeping in his emerald gaze.

the end credit of the movie the two of you had been watching prior to the storm is still rolling, faint music playing in the background along with the occasional thunder booming from the outside as you let the silence stretch.

togame wants to object, he really does. ain’t no way he’s letting you go back home in such terrible weather with only yourself as company. much like the thunderstorms just outside the window, he can feel an uproar of emotions rolling inside him; the doubts clouding his decisions, the flashes of worst case scenarios in his mind and the spews of protests that he wants rain down on you.

togame had initially arranged this movie date to give you the rest that you deserve. he’d long noticed the exhaustion in your eyes the past few days, something that you’d always brush off as trivial when he’d ask about it.

he had put on that boring ass movie for a reason, wanting to get you to doze off on him so that you could catch up on the sleep that you’d been missing. even a short nap would do but unfortunately for him, you stayed awake throughout the entire movie.

alas, he only brings up the notion he’s been holding in this whole time. “i don’t mind you staying over, though.”

from the couch you’re sitting on, you regard him wordlessly with a curious look marred over your face. “i didn’t bring anything to change into,” you reason, and yet it holds no weight considering your current circumstance.

his lips widen into a smile, one so tender you’d always find yourself distractedly gazing at it as he returns to his rightful place beside you, one leg folded on the couch while the other resting on the soft carpet below. “you can wear my clothes,” he simply says.

your pulse jumps then, swallowing tentatively at the suggestion. the tv has finally quietened down, the space now only filled with the sound of nature in turbulence.

togame swears he could’ve sagged down like a kicked dog the longer you stay silent. he had only realized the breath he’s been holding when he feels the way his chest relaxes, with you finally opening your mouth to speak. “...okay.”

another rush of emotions courses through him when he sees you draped in his shirt and shorts moments later, this time it’s in a heap of endearment, infatuation, satisfaction and a mild possessiveness piling together in a pair of saturated emeralds.

you’ve always been a sight for him to behold, but when you’re wearing his clothes? togame jo thinks he might’ve fallen in love with you all over again.

“how are we…?” your voice breaks him out of his trance, noticing how your gaze keeps bouncing between him and the bed. he clenches his jaw, the blood pumping in his veins heating up at the thought of sleeping in one bed with you.

“take the bed,” he firmly insists, leaving no argument to the matter as he nods his chin towards the mess of pillows and blankets. he walks towards the wardrobe to change himself, not caring that you’re there to look at him doing so (he hopes you do).

from the corner of his eyes, togame watches as you settle in the bed, patting the pillows to fluff them up and making yourself a temporary home under his blankets. he watches as you adjust and readjust your head where you lay, and he watches as you start tossing and turning to get yourself in a more comfortable position.

it’s only when he finishes his nightly routine, going so far as taking his sweet time in the bathroom and finding out that you’re still not asleep that he decides to try and put a stop to this predicament.

“hey,” he softly calls out, watching as the smooth curve of your back stiffens slightly at his voice. you crane your neck to peer back at him, and he can feel the tug on his heartstrings at the sight of your bright, unblinking eyes. the mattress dips under his weight when he props a knee onto it, a flash of lightning from between the curtains further illuminating the intent in his actions.

“can i…” he licks his lips in a moment of hesitation. “can i sleep with you— like, next to you?” his raspy baritone sends a trail of shivers down your back. halfway onto the bed, there’s a clear room for you to push him away lest you ever decide to say no to his advance. “is that weird to ask…?”

you purse your lips slightly, forehead creasing at the question. you’ve certainly cuddled together before so why should this be any different? so no, it’s not weird at all, and it never will be.

you express your thoughts by turning to face him, flipping the blankets open on his side. togame’s slow exhale melts into a smile as he accepts the invitation, taking the space beside you before he lifts an arm, returning an invite to you.

it feels like a proper home, being in togame’s embrace. his hold on you is firm and secure, cocooning you in his warmth as his familiar scent floods your senses. he pulls you closer against his chest and tangles his legs with yours as if trying to meld your bodies together, burying his nose into your hair as your heart steadily beats in sync with his.

it takes quite a while, a few hours maybe, but for the first time in so long, you close your eyes and fall asleep.

chat would he actually have a routine before bed? need opinions and thoughts🎤 anw ty for participating mino heh gives u the biggest fattest wettest(?) smooch

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[hyuckiefluff]

Pretty Boy

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers wc : 1.2k + summary: you are determined to convince your roommate to let you put mascara on his pretty eyelashes but things escalate when playful touches become more intimate. a/n: this is a short story that i wrote in like an hour sorry if it’s kind of all over the place lol. it has an open ending so possible part 2 if it doesn’t flop?? tysm for reading &lt;33

part 2

"Jaemin, come here!!" you followed him out of the room as he escaped.

"Nope! Not a chance!" Jaemin retorted.

"C'mon, you're being so dramatic,"

"I'm not the one trying to poke your eyeballs with a strange object," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he walked away, keeping a safe distance from you.

"Please, it's just mascara. I'm trying to see how it looks on you," you said, practically sprinting after him across the shared department.

"When I agreed to room with you, I didn't know I was signing up to become your little experiment," he grumbled, effortlessly leaping over the couch and assuming a defensive stance. "Why do you even want to put mascara on me?"

"Like I said, you're being dramatic. And you have the prettiest eyelashes I've ever seen, so I must see what they look like all done,"

He rolled his eyes, having had this conversation with you before. You had always pointed out the unfairness of him having such long lashes but never doing anything to them.

"I'm not letting you come close to my eyes with that thing," he firmly stated, causing you to let out a sigh of frustration.

“Wait, what’s that behind you?” While you didn't expect him to actually fall for it, he momentarily looked over his shoulder, and in that split second, you swiftly jumped over the couch, landing right on top of him with a victorious war cry.

"C'mooon," he protested, but his hands instinctively found their place on your hips, keeping you in place.

"I'm just going to apply a little bit," you said innocently, moving closer to his face. He remained silent, which caught you off guard, considering how vehemently he had opposed the idea just moments ago.

His gaze was fixed on you, and you took it as an opportunity to concentrate on your task. You were so focused on not accidentally poking his eyes that you failed to notice what his hands were doing. He started slowly caressing your hips, it seemed like he was doing it unconsciously at first but then he started gently pinching and groping and it was getting harder for you to keep your hand steady.

"Does it usually take you this long to do this?" he asked, looking upwards as you worked the mascara brush on his lashes.

"Well, excuse me, but you're distracting me," you responded, pausing for a moment to give him an accusing look. When he met your gaze, you almost dropped the brush because of how absurdly beautiful he looked. His eyes appeared larger, framed by the now even longer and darker lashes. Despite his frown and occasional uncomfortable blinking, he looked mesmerizing.

You brought the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to hide the smile threatening to escape. However, he caught your gesture and gently took your hand, placing a kiss on it. "What are you smiling at? Do I look that ridiculous?" he asked, his voice lowering in tone.

"No," you replied, your voice slightly faltering. "You look good." If he hadn't already sensed your flustered state from the way your voice trembled, he certainly did when you flinched in response to his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you down closer to him.

"Really? Show me then," he said, his gaze fixed on you. For a moment, you were confused, dazed by the way he was looking at you. Then it clicked, and you understood what he meant. Without hesitation, you pulled out your phone to take a picture of him.

As you captured the shot, you couldn't help but bite your lip at how intimate it looked. He was looking up at you through his eyelashes, a slight smile playing on his lips. The image clearly showed the fact that you were straddling him, his hands resting on your thighs. You knew you'd have to delete this picture after showing him because your best friends were notoriously nosy, and the last thing you wanted was for them to stumble upon a photo of you practically riding your roommate.

"Are you gonna show me or..." his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you cleared your throat, handing him the phone. You would have gotten off his lap by now if it weren't for his hand still holding you firmly in place.

"Mhmm..." he hummed approvingly as he looked at the picture. "I like it. I'm sending it to myself."

"What? No, no," you panicked, attempting to grab your phone, but he held it out of reach, lifting it over his head. Retrieving it would mean getting even closer to him. Instead, you gave him a death stare and an expression that clearly said, 'Seriously dude?'

"If you like it so much, I can just take another one of just you," you pleaded.

"But I like this one because you're in it too," he responded, raising an eyebrow.

Your stomach dropped, and before you could form a coherent response, Jaemin propped himself up on his elbows, your phone abandoned somewhere behind him. His face was now incredibly close to yours, his minty breath filling the space between you. You couldn't move away, and if you're honest with yourself, you wouldn't even if you could. After two years of being roommates with Jaemin, you had grown used to him being clingy and affectionate, and while you had found yourself on his lap on previous occasions, it had never escalated to this level of intensity.

Unconsciously, you bit your lip, a nervous habit of yours, catching Jaemin's attention. He lifted his hand and gently caressed your bottom lip with his thumb, causing you to cease the biting. Now his focus was entirely on your lips, and perhaps it was your imagination, but he seemed to be getting closer. "Don't bite these pretty lips; you'll roughen them up," he whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Sorry..." you murmured instinctively, your voice sounding small and vulnerable. It was a clear indication that he was flustering you.

There were so many alarms going off in your head, warning you of the dangerous territory you were about to venture into. If you were smart, you would heed those warnings and run away.

"Okay, well, I'm done here, so..." you began to say, your voice trailing off.

"Are you? But there's a space here that needs taking care of," he pointed towards his eye, and as you leaned closer, you struggled to see anything out of the ordinary.

"What? Whe-" Your words were abruptly swallowed by his lips as they pressed against yours, catching you completely off guard. A whimper escaped your lips, met with a low grunt from him, as he skillfully moved his lips against yours. His hands found their way up from your hips to your waist, exploring the exposed skin revealed by your riding-up shirt. The kiss started off gentle but quickly escalated, his lips and hands working their way up your body. It was you who deepened the kiss, prodding him with your tongue, silently asking for entry. He sighed contently, granting you access, and the kiss grew wetter and more intense as your tongues danced together. His hips began to buck up, creating a delicious friction between your cores, eliciting moans from both of you.

There was no turning back now. You were well aware of it, and Jaemin seemed to understand too, as he pulled away from the kiss, suggesting, "Maybe we should move to the bed."

The implications made your lower stomach churn with a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you nodded, a smile playing on your lips.

"Let's go, pretty boy," you said teasingly, before darting away, Jaemin hot on your heels, eagerly chasing after you.

part 2

feedback is greatly appreciated! <3