#its always stuff like. do you close your window/door at night. do you take off your shoes inside or outside the door. do you sleep with a

[vampmilf]

i love when polls are phrased like omg i just found out people do this super strange and freakish honestly downright despicable thing??? 😨😰 (insert very common and normal thing people do) is this true??? do you absolute degenerate freaks actually do that?? 😭😭 personally EYE would never because i think its super weird and i hope everyone who does the thing knows how freakish and gross it is but i could just neverrrrrrr 🤢🙅🚫 anyways im just asking because im curious: do you do the thing?

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[dollfacefantasy]

End of the Night

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x reader

summary: leon comes home late from a job. he finds comfort in his pregnant wife who's fast asleep.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, somnophilia, pregnancy, mentions of blood and violence and typical crime stuff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey besties. here you go. hope everyone enjoys. if you're interested, check out my ko-fi. i appreciate the support you all give me oh so much. mwah <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

Another late night. The car rumbles as it pulls into the driveway. He shuts it off and sits there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the neighborhood street. Moonlight illuminates his bruised knuckles and bloody sleeves. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, the skin beneath the dried crimson liquid turns white. A deep sigh seeps out of his lungs. 

He runs a hand through his dusty brown hair and looks in the rear view mirror, seeing his tired eyes looking back at him. He’d been meaning to get it cut, but he’d been busy as of late.

“It’s getting shaggy,” you’d tease him while scratching his scalp with your manicured nails. Then you’d lean in close and give him a big kiss on the cheek. “It looks good.”

You. His beautiful, darling wife. The greatest pride of his life. Only a few rooms apart, tucked away safe inside.

He lets out another sigh as he thinks of you, but this time it’s a breath of longing rather than exhaustion. You were why he was out here, cooling off. He’d promised himself since the day you got married those years ago, he wouldn’t let this affect you. Wouldn’t even let you get close to this side of him.

All the windows of the house are dark. He knows you’re asleep, curled up under one of the many plush blankets he’d gotten you. Face pressed into the silk pillowcase, your soft breaths drifting through the bedroom.

The mental picture brings a smile to his face instinctively. It quickly fades though as he looks down and crashes back to reality. Blood covered his suit, soaked into the fabric. He knew he’d have to just throw it away. He wouldn’t even bother asking you to wash this one.

He gets out of the car, careful to shut the door quietly. Walking up the stone path to your house, past the pristine lawn, he jams his key into the front door. The air in the house is so much warmer than the chill outside. It hits him in a rush, making his face feel numb. He slips his shoes off by the door, something you always asked him to do after one night when he had tracked remnants of some unfortunate guy all over the bedroom carpet.

Sometimes coming into the house almost made him unsettled. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it was his. That was how he felt about you too. Sure, he’d always expected to get married, but he never thought it’d be like this. Never thought he’d be happy.

He walks across the entryway and heads up the spiraling staircase, passing pictures of the two of you hung on the walls. When he reaches the bedroom, he sees exactly what he suspected. Even though he expected it, the sight of you fast asleep didn’t melt his heart any less. It filled his chest with warmth and made his head feel loopy with how much he adored you. The worst thing he could imagine was coming home and finding that bed empty. Whether you left or someone took you, he didn’t want to ever think about either. That was why he was always so careful. So that would never happen.

He pads across the room to your side of the bed and looks at your sleeping form with love in its most raw state. The kind that made him ache. He strokes your head and smooths your hair out. A light kiss lands on your forehead before he leans down and kisses your belly, swollen with his child.

More than anything on this earth, he wants to crawl into bed with you and do all that lovey dovey shit until the sun comes up. But he knew he needed to shower, not wanting to even imagine the disgust on your face if you woke up to his clothing, blotted red with blood, pressed to your skin.

He goes into the bathroom, making sure to be as close to silence as possible. He cringes when he turns the shower on, and just hopes the noise of the rushing water isn’t enough to wake you.

The next step in this little routine is taking out one of the disposable bags you now stored under the sink for nights like this. He peels off his suit and stuffs it into the plastic before dropping it in the trash. He’d take it out tomorrow.

He gives his body a once over in the mirror, looking at the stained and scarred skin before stepping into the shower. The hot water feels damn near euphoric on the taut muscles in his back. He lets out a muted groan. It sprays down on him and dampens his hair, the locks transforming from their lightened shade to a deeper brown. 

The white tile surrounding the drain turns red as the marks from work get washed away. He uses the little scrubby thing you bought him, making sure all of it is really gone. Washing his hair too, he uses some of your shampoo tonight just for your scent.

He can feel the pressure dissolving in his shoulders and the tight coils in his back beginning to unwind. He no longer feels like a live wire. The hot tension in his neck melts and rolls down his back, pooling in his belly. The heat of stress evolves into the warmth of desire.

When he’s finally done in the shower, he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. Water droplets roll down his chest as he dries his hair. He then takes care of his other getting-ready-for-bed tasks and comes into the bedroom. He pulls on some flannel pajama pants and turns to his bed, ready to finally lay with his stunning wife and hold you till he passes out.

But when he looks over at you, that warmth that collected within him starts to bubble up into a boil. You had shifted positions, kicked the covers off so that you were much more exposed. It wasn’t unusual for you. The fact that it was freezing out now didn’t stop your body from heating up like a furnace while you slept. It started when you first fell pregnant, and while it caused you great discomfort, Leon secretly enjoyed it, infatuated with the warm, soft feeling of you against him in the night.

You were wearing a baby pink nighty he’d bought for you. It barely held your breasts which had just started to fill out more a few weeks ago. The lower part of the dress bunched up around your waist just below your bump, letting him see the matching panties you had on. He nearly drools as he imagines your lush thighs around his head, locking his face against that fabric.

God, and the final straw, your sweet, precious face. So clueless, not the slightest idea that your husband was a few feet away, leering at you. Slightly parted lips, twitching lashes, those cute round cheeks. It was too much. He had to do something even if it risked disturbing your slumber.

He had already drifted to the foot of the king-sized bed in his lustful stupor. Kneeling on the mattress, he leans forward and crawls to his target. One hand scoops up one of your legs, placing it on his shoulder. The other does the same to your second leg. It was just as he’d imagined, that familiar engulfing heat against his cheeks, around his neck.

Flat on his stomach, he brings his head in. His thumbs hook on your nightgown to slide it up a little more, resting it on the peak of your bump. His lips meet your clothed pussy in a gentle kiss. He then takes a deep breath, inhaling his favorite smell.

He trails some more kisses up the fabric to the level of your clit. The cloth gathers wet splotches from his saliva. Before removing the garment, he nuzzles your center, dragging his nose upwards against the silk.

Everything about you was soft, tender. From your voice as you spoke to the way you looked at him with love pooling in your eyes. His refuge from everything else, the blood, the betrayal, the guilt.

He loops his finger under the strip of fabric that conceals your cunt from him. After tugging them down, his eyes train on your folds. He locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, smothering himself with you. Closing his eyes, he gets to work.

He delves his tongue between the velvety skin and licks stripes upward. His tongue draws skillful patterns on you and swirls around your clit before taking the sensitive bud between his lips to suck on it.

And there it is. You squirm ever so slightly. Your hips shift, but he keeps them pinned down in place. A small grunt leaves you and a smirk rises to his lips. So sweet, his innocent girl, never the wiser. 

In waking life, he wished he could keep you so blissfully unaware. Obviously, you weren’t privy to how deep the darkness of his work went. You had a basic idea though, and that was too much for his taste. You didn’t deserve to know any of that stuff even existed. He wanted to shield you from all of it. Just let you live like a princess in a castle without wondering how he could afford to give you that castle in the first place.

He shoos his concerns away by burying himself further in your cunt. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid succession, applying pressure with his gentle sucking. A sense of satisfaction comes over him as he feels your slick beginning to coat his chin. He increases his efforts and flattens his tongue on your clit before going back down and working it into your hole.

He laps every drop of you he can, groaning at the taste. His arms squeeze tighter around your thighs, and he takes a deeper breath of that heady scent. He’s so laser focused on your pussy, he doesn’t fully register the moans beginning to spill from your lips.

Finally, he perks up when he hears possibly his favorite sound in the entire world.

“Leon?” you whimper, your voice soft and shaky with arousal.

He groans again, opening his mouth now to make out with your cunt. His tongue massages you and works inside you again.

“S’ok, baby, everything’s ok. Keep having those pretty dreams,” he mumbles into the junction of your thighs.

He doubts you could even hear that at the volume he spoke it, but he’s back to work anyways. Your squirming is getting more frequent as the coils of pleasure tighten within you. Your legs shift around in a futile attempt to alleviate the disruption to your rest.

More wetness collects between your legs, mixing with his spit and making your folds slippery. It’s the best feeling ever to him, he just can’t get enough. That smooth, slick skin. Your warm, plush thighs. He’d do this all day if he could. Any stress he’d had from work was as dead as the guy who’s blood had ruined his suit.

With one particular stroke of his tongue, you rouse from sleep. Your legs tighten around his head with a few conscious whimpers. You lift your head and look down at the mop of hair working at the apex of your thighs. You lazily run your fingers through the locks.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, your voice a little whiny from the nonstop ministrations to your cunt. Your head falls back to the pillow with a soft gasp.

“I think it’s obvious what I’m doing, sweetheart,” he teases before continuing.

“Bad day?” you rasp.

“No. Now shhh. Let me make you feel good, honey,” he says simply.

While Leon loved talking to you, he couldn’t eat you out till you were trembling if he was using his mouth for anything else. He returns his full attention to your pussy, devoting all his energy to getting you to that peak.

Your moans are louder now, becoming higher pitched as sparks of ecstasy fly inside you. The sheets gather and twist around your body as you writhe on the mattress. Toes curling as moon light shines through the curtains in your bedroom, you suck in a hushed gasp as his fingers slide inside you with ease.

You’re so sensitive from your condition that it only takes a few gentle pumps and scissoring motions of his fingers to have you dangling from that pleasurable edge. Your hips try to buck, but again, his palms have you secure, right where he wants you.

“Fuck… Leon. I- I- babe, I’m gonna-” you whimper while your breathing becomes more labored.

“Come on, babydoll,” he nearly growls, “You can do it. Cum for me. All over my face.”

Strained cries rise in your throat, your hips rhythmically rolling into the pleasure he provides. Not one to ever resist him, it’s only moments later that you do as he says, the band of euphoria inside you snapping.

He works you through it, not stopping his tongue or fingers. Your moans are deep and loud. There was no reason to be concerned with volume so you let the sounds fill the bedroom and spill into the hall. Wet noises bloom from the bottom of the bed as your release coats Leon’s fingers.

Not wanting to waste anything, he laps up every drop of you that he can. His tongue makes broad strokes over your cunt, and even as you begin coming down, he doesn’t let up right away. You squeal and squirm as your high overflows. Your feet weakly kick at his shoulder to signal it’s too much.

“Leon… can’t take it… fuck,” you whine and claw at each side of the pillow behind your head.

Normally, he’d keep going. Mouth would be latched on to your pussy for the next hour at least. Swirling circles around that pretty clit until you were crying and had gone hoarse. But right now, you’re carrying his baby. Your days are hard enough, and the last thing he wants is to be the cause of any discomfort for you.

He forces himself off of you, panting as he disconnects and pushes himself up. Looking up at you, his eyes are blown out with love. You roll on to your side, stretching your sleepy limbs as you slip back into the state of relaxation you were in before he’d woken you. He watches you, adoring the way your mouth widens into a yawn as he crawls up the bed to slot himself behind you.

Curling up against your warm body, he lets out a hum of satisfaction. He places a few tender kisses on your neck and behind your ear. His fingers run through your hair and stroke it back from your face in soothing motions.

“My pretty little wife,” he whispers.

Now you hum in satisfaction. Your hand finds his which was on your belly, rubbing your bump. You gently squeeze it before lifting it to your lips and kissing each one of his bruised knuckles. It was something you’d done hundreds of times at this point in your relationship, but it was never any less special to him.

“How’re my girls tonight?” he murmurs and places more kisses on the side of your head.

“We’ve been good,” you answer softly, voice becoming sleepy again already, “Well, she has. She’s just like her dad. Been kicking ass inside my stomach all night.”

Your eyes are closed, but it’s as if you can see the grin on Leon’s face. “She can act like me all she wants as long as she’s as cute as her mother,” he breathes with a peck to your temple.

No matter how many times he’d say things like that to you, you could never fight the heat that rose to your cheeks and the smile that broke out on your face. You turn and connect his lips in one final kiss before you settle into the pillows to sleep again.

He just watches you, the best way for him to unwind at the end of the day. When he looks at you it’s easier to remember that while tomorrow’s gonna be another day in his life full of gunshots and corpses, it’s also gonna be another one he spends with you, spends waiting for that perfect baby in your belly.

[bbybaku]

BOY NEXT DOOR SHIG

i actually really like this one. like might be my fav thing I've ever posted lol. slow burn i fear. ends w smut. as always

follows the American academic calendar sorry its all i know and it'll make sense why at the end

5k ish words (sorry idk how this one got so long)

warnings: uhh slow burn, smut, multiple positions, make out, dirty talk, choking, dom shig, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism

you went to college a little over an hour away from where your parents lived.

which meant you only really went home and stayed with them on school breaks. Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas break.

You didnt think or wish to be back at your parent's house, your whole life was at college. Your friends, your stuff, your job.

That was until your parents got a new neighbor over the summer.

He was tall and kind of lanky. He had long fluffy blueish-white hair that was a little past his shoulders and always slightly in his face.

You saw him and what looked like his dad moving in.

Their new house was the one right next to your bedroom window.

Your parents went next door to introduce themselves. They came back and told you that the boy was only a year older than you and he was also in college.

You asked more questions, what school? What is his name? Does he live at home? is he on social media?

but they said they didnt know. They told you to go over and introduce yourself but you had a better idea.

You knew better then to open your bedroom window. For all you knew the new boys dad could be in the room directly next to yours.

But you did it anyway. You took down the curtains, opened the blinds and opened your window.

It was summer after all.

You never got the opportunity to talk to the boy over the summer.

You saw him in passing.

He was akward. When you saw him in the neighborhood he would give you one of those closed-mouth smiles and lift his hand in a wave. he was so hot in one of those loser-man type of ways.

You also saw him doing yard work. He never took his shirt off but he had more muscle on on than you initially thought.

Luckily, the neighbor boy also took the bedroom across from yours and he seemed to notice your open window.

Sometimes in the evenings he would open his too.

there was a little bit of distance between the houses but you could still occasionally hear the music he was listening to, you could hear him talking while he was gaming, and sometimes you would wait until he was in his bedroom with his window open to change clothes.

you hoped he would notice. maybe even take interest.

but as the summer ended and you packed up for school you knew you had to accept that it was too soon. you knew it needed time.

as the semester progressed you tried to forget the neighbor boy. you went out with you friends, you went to class, and you lived your life but he was always there in the back of your mind.

no matter where you were or what you were doing you couldn’t help but think of him. what he was doing, where he was, his long slender hands, the veins on his forearms. when you would listen to him talk to his friends. if he had a girlfriend.

obsession is a big word but you were swiftly approaching it with how often you thought about him.

when you went home for thanksgiving in mid-november you were actually ecstatic, unlike your usual sadness to have to leave your life behind. not this time, you were going to get to see him.

even if if was in passing or if it was just listing to him play video games through his window.

something was anything.

and anything was something.

just like he did over the summer he opened his window in the evening.

you tried not to stare into his house but it was much more decorated and lived in than it had been over the summer.

he had posters on his walls, better lighting, furniture arranged to be more fung shiu, and dirty clothes on the ground.

what you would do to get a hold of his dirty laundry.

he still played video games at night and listened to music.

you still changed infront off the window.

you two saw each other in passing and he did the same thing he did over the summer.

a closed mouth smile and his hand would lift up as a wave.

but now your parents and his dad were friends so they had more to tell you about him.

you had to play it cool they couldn't know that you were obsessed, no you were asking out of morbid curiosity.

your parents told you his name was tomura shigaraki. his dad adopted him, it was just the two of them, he was a year older than you and he was in computer science.

and no it did not seem like he had a girlfriend.

you had to hide your excitement.

how much did he know about you? was he even interested?

as your excitement began to dwindle and you got ready to leave home and go back to school for the last few weeks of the semester you herd someone call out your name.

you looked up and sure enough getting out of his car was the neighbor boy, tomura.

“hey! you’re (y/n) right?”

you tried to control yourself. you knew your face had to be beet red.

“oh yeah hey”

“well i just wanted to say hello" a pause. he looked around a little awkwardly, then finished his train of thought "im tomura.”

you gave a small smile “it was nice to meet you tomura, i guess ill see you around”

he did his little wave and went inside.

you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

you couldn’t get his devious little grin out of your head.

he had to be interested. you two were the same age and the same demographic. he was a loser and you were beautiful.

if you weren’t obsessed before, now there was no denying it.

the last three weeks of the semester went by agonizingly slow. even your friends noticed your distracted demeanor.

you chose not to tell them. you didn’t want to ruin the magic. and you didn’t want to sound delusional about the neighbor you’ve been stalking and only spoken to once.

when the semester finally ended you were practically already packed and ready to head home.

you spent the entire drive trying to calm yourself down. knowing you had to play it cool around the neighbor boy. around tomura.

you got home and pulled into the driveway, you noted that his car was in his driveway.

you walked in the front door and were met with not only your parents, but also tomura and his dad.

your eyes instantly met.

you dropped the bag you were carrying.

“oh hey” you said not breaking eye contact.

“uhh what’s up” he said sounding nervous but there was no denying that he was happy to see you.

your parents introduced the two of you. he awkwardly shook your hand. you could feel how clammy they were.

your mom announced that tomura and his father would be coming to their yearly holiday party that they throw every year.

you had to rein in your excitement.

“oh, I'm excited to see you guys there”

they left and you immediately went upstairs to scream into your pillow, with your window closed of course.

the holiday party's theme was to wear holiday-esc clothes, you knew who would be there so of course you wore a little black dress and a santa hat.

you saw tomura walk in but you didn't approach him, not yet.

he was wearing a collared shirt under an oversized dark green sweater with Christmas symbols on it that looked thrifted.

you helped yourself to the access of alcohol that both your parents and their guests provided.

you had left your window closed the last few days in anticipation of seeing him tonight.

you noticed he was drinking a beer. your eyes met from across the room. he was standing next to his dad, talking to a group of neighbors.

you were talking to a different neighbor, an old lady who was telling you to dress more modestly.

you risked a glance. he was checking you out. how little you left to the imagination in your little dress.

he caught your eyes and blushed, looking away instantly. he was back into the conversation as soon as he looked away and you looked back.

you excused your self for more alcohol.

you talked to your mom

felt the warm effects of the alcohol.

made eyecontact with tomura.

talked to some more of the party guests

more prolonged eye contact.

You were laying it on thick with your "fuck me eyes"

after what felt like an eternity of dancing around each other finally, your parents were talking to him and his dad.

you joined the circle, only a little motivated by the alcohol you had been drinking all night.

the alcohol that mad the blood rush between your legs a little more than usual.

your parents were asking him about college. he answered their question but was staring at you.

"- yeah I dont really have plans after graduation I'll probably just go wherever the wind takes me kind of thing"

he didnt take his eyes off you. even after he finished talking. he was a good head taller than you. his hair had gotten longer but it still looked good on him. you noticed the contrast of his light hair against his dark eyebrows. he was well-groomed. clean shaven. you wondered what he would look like first thing in the morning with stubble and no shirt on-

"Y/n?"

"Sorry?"

"they were asking about your plans after college"

"Oh um- Im also not sure yet, Ive been looking into grad school but I'm still on the fence,"

your eyes flicked to tomura, an invitation.

"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go get some water."

he took the bait, "I think im gonna get some water too"

he followed you to the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.

you poured yourself another drink.

he cracked open another beer

“so what are you drinking?”

he shrugged and took a sip

“doesn’t taste very good”

you simply nodded. you could feel the heat on your cheeks. all these months of thinking about him and now you have absolutely nothing to say.

“so you study-“

“can we quit it with the small talk?”

he stepped closer to you and wrapped his free a hand around your waist, he leaned down so that his mouth was right next to your ear.

he said it just quietly enough that only you could hear, “i don’t want to act like i haven’t been jerking off to you changing in front of your open window and you can’t act like you’re not the little slut who opens her window and gets naked for me.”

you flushed. your blood should be cold from the embarrassment but it wasn't.

it was the opposite.

you felt like you were on fire.

it felt like your excitement was pooling in your underwear.

you realized he was still holding on to you, he hadn't moved.

it was like you and tomura were the last two people on earth. your surroundings a blur,

"wanna get out of here"

"yes. yes please" you whispered.

"thats what i like to hear"

he took your hand and walked you to the back hallway of the party since so many people were blocking the front door and the stairs.

he stopped you in front of one of the doors.

you wanted him so bad that a drunk makeout next to the guest bedroom was enough.

your back was against the wall and one of his hands was leaning against the wall next to your head.

"do you ever think about me when you're away?" he whispers.

you run a hand down his chest. stomach. brush your fingers against something else.

something hard.

"all the fucking time" you whisper back.

he doesn't say anything.

he pins your back to the wall with his body. his hand runs through your hair.

his hand does it again.

youre looking down.

his hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look up him.

he inspects your face, eyes lingering on your lips,

and then he kisses you.

not a little gentle kiss.

your mouth is met by his wet open mouth.

your hands locked around his neck, one of his hands found your waist and the other was in your scalp.

you could feel his hard on.

you rubbed your sex on him and he sucked in a breath while kissing you.

his tongue was exploring your mouth, he wanted in while simultaneously sucking on your bottom lip and biting your tongue.

tomura was warm, he smelled like ocean and spice and laundry detergent. he was all you wanted and more.

he pulled away from the kiss and took a step away from you. he wiped your mouth with his sleeve and then wiped his.

an old man you recognized as one of your moms coworkers wandered back into the hallway.

you quickly understood why tomura just pulled away.

“this isn’t the bathroom” he said looking between the two of you.

you and tomura look at each other and fake a laugh.

his face was flushed, his hair a mess, and your there was a tint the color of your lipstick around his mouth.

"oh yeah we were just talking about college. the bathroom is that way." you pointed to where the party was happening

the man smiled and walked away.

once he was gone you and tomura went right back to what you were doing.

this one wasn’t like the first one though.

it was rougher. it was something more

tomura grabbed your jaw with one hand and squeezed your ass with the other, saying between passionate kisses,

“you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted this”

he pulled on your hair, forcing your head to angle up towards his face.

you can’t ignore his big strong hands, the length of his fingers, the veins on his arms just peeking out from under his rolled up sweater sleeves.

your santa hat must have fallen off a while ago.

his other hand on your ass kneaded it like it was bread dough.

he grabbed at your ass by the handful, pulling on the skin and fat and muscle before letting it go, occasionally feeling your waist, the swell of your hips, and then going right back in for your ass and repeating the process.

his tongue explored the inside of your mouth like it belonged to him. he sucked on your bottom lip, shoved his tongue in, sucked on your mouth with his entire mouth all in no particular order.

you pressed your hips into him and liked what you found.

with one arm wrapped around his neck, you other massaging his scalp and occasionally pulling his hair, a signal to him to come closer to you.

you moved back and into him again. grinding against him. he was hot and hard.

you removed your hand from his scalp and palmed his member.

he pulled off your mouth but not your body and let out a shaky breath.

“if we start with that i won’t be able to stop” he whispered into your hair.

“who said that’s a bad thing” you whipered back.

you could feel his smile against you even though you couldn’t see his face, “i never said it was bad but maybe we should find somewhere more private”

“can we sneak out to your place?”

this was when he pulled his body off of yours and you could see his smirk, “i think that’s a great idea.”

the two of you tried to tidy each other up as best as you could but there was no denying the fact the the two of you just did something. both of your cheeks were flushed, hair was ruffled, and clothes disheveled.

there was also no denying his excitement. you pulled his sweater down to help him attempt the hide the tent in his pants.

he mumbled out a "thanks" and looked away blushing.

he walked out into the party first, raising his eyebrows at you as he said to meet him outside in ten minutes.

you counted to 100 before entering the party so as not to look suspicious.

you didn’t want your parents old and nosy friends know yours and tomura’s business.

you found your parents and stood in on their conversation. casually looking around every chance you got to find him. you spotted him in the kitchen standing next to his dad talking to a woman.

he was standing with his hands in his pockets, slouching, his cheeks still pink, his lips a little swollen, and his his looked like someone had just ran their hands through it.

you noticed you were staring. then you noticed he was staring at you too. he gave you a small smile and he pointed his head toward the front door.

you gave him a small nod in agreement.

you whispered to your mom that you were going to go sit outside and to not worry about you.

she had a few drinks in her system and was more concerned about her holiday party than whatever nonsense her daughter was up to, so it was easy to slip away.

you instantly started walking towards the front door when you felt a hand grab yours. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

the next five minutes were a blur.

your hand in his.

running over to his house.

his frantic effort to unlock the front door.

instantly making out against the front door once inside.

running up the stairs with him right behind you.

hands intertwined.

barely making it to his room before, once again, aggressively making out against his closed bedroom door.

tomura peeled your desss off in one fluid motion and picked you up throwing, you on his bed.

he whipped his sweater off, and climbed on top of you.

you began to undo the buttons on his white button down but he stopped you,

"ah ah, not yet. its my turn"

he pulled one of your breasts out of your bra, nipple already hard, and put his mouth around your nipple.

his right hand finds yours, interlocking fingers and pressing you to the bed.

his left hand finds your other breast and kneads on it. pulling on your nipple, grabbing the flesh with his palm and fingers.

all while milking your other.

his mouth sucking and teeth bruising there was nothing you could do to conceal the unholy wimpers he coaxed out of you.

his eyes find yours.

“look at me” he says then resumes what he was doing.

your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts.

the only thing you could focus on was the pleasure you were experiencing at his hands.

and mouth.

your hips find his.

you could feel his rock-hard member in his pants.

your free hand finds his member between the two of you and you rub your hand up and down him over his pants.

he inhales shakily.

"mmm not yet" he whispered into your breast.

he maneuvers to switch sides, his mouth now on the opposite breast and his hand cupping the breast his mouth was just on.

your back arches and you moan as his mouth makes contact.

you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his again.

he bit your nipple in response, getting a yelp out of you.

you knew for sure by now that you were soaked through your panties.

since Tomura had taken your dress off your arousal was evident but his attention was still on your breasts.

he was holding one of your hands and the other was in his hair, nails scratching circles on his scalp and occasionally pulling on his hair.

your hips still moving against his you gave a tug on his hair for his attention.

he kept his mouth where it was but stopped what he was doing, lazily looking up.

you pet his hair and whispered "can we please?" pushing your hips into his for emphasis.

he raised his eyebrows slowly.

he removed his mouth from your nipple dramatically with a loud sucking noise.

he sat up and switched the position he was in to now hold down both of your wrists with one of his hands and to hold your hips down with the other,

"I said not yet,"

and he turned his attention to the nipple he had previously been working on.

you thought you couldn't have been more aroused but with his new found control over you? you could have come just from the sight of him.

your hips struggled against his arm, seeking any form of release as you whimpered in pleasure from the love he gave to your nipple.

you came out of your trance and realized he was still fully clothed and you were still wearing your bra and underwear.

he removed himself from you slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pushing his mane of hair out of his face.

you were breathing heavily and slightly disoriented from what he had just done.

"lets get rid of these, shall we?"

he started to pull off your underwear. and you went ahead and removed your bra.

"it cant be fair that im the only one who's naked?"

you motioned to him still being almost fully dressed save for the sweater he had been wearing over his now half unbuttoned button-down shirt.

shigaraki sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt

"I thought you preferred to be naked?" he looked up at you and smirked "or are you just a show off?"

you didnt really have a good response to his call out so all you could do was stare at him.

you watched him undress making sure to emphasize one of your signature looks, the fuck me eyes.

he definitely noticed your gaze.

he smirked back at you as he stood up and shucked off his pants.

Leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers.

your favorite.

he crawled back onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs, where you lay on your back. head propped up with pillows and still panting from what his magic mouth and fingers just did with your nipples.

he locked eyes with you, hooked his hands underneath your knees, and pulled your bottom half up to him.

he pushed your legs up, essentially folding you in half as he brought his mouth down to yours.

He kissed you sweetly and deeply. with care but also disrespect like he would stop if you asked you him to but you were pulling him closer, scratching his back, and grinding against his member.

so he squeezed your thigh, groped your boob a little tighter, and explored the cavern of your mouth a bit deeper with his tongue.

his hand previously on your tit found your throat. he choked you as his mouth pulled from yours.

the pressure of his hand caused your mouth to open, searching for air and only getting a little bit of it.

he squeezed tighter as he licked down the column of your neck and back up.

kissing your mouth lightly one last time as he released your throat and started kissing down your body.

kissing down to your soaking wet sex.

his hand stroked your face at first. he kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest, booth boobs, your navel, then he found the space between your legs. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started kissing you there too.

he kissed your clit similarly to how he kissed your mouth at first. softly. respectfully. passionately. like he was waiting for permission.

you gave it to him by grabbing a handful of hair and rubbing yourself against his face. you could feel his nose and his smirk on your sweet spot.

he took your invitation, and you could hear him inhale through his nose he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and went to work.

with his mouth on your clit you could feel him sucking on it, lapping his tongue against it, and eventually sticking two fingers into your sopping entrance.

you couldn't hold your moans in. especially once his veiny, long-fingered hand was pumping in and out.

your first orgasm didnt even build it just ripped through you, without anything you could have done to stop it.

shigaraki, satisfied enough with his handy work sat up and whipped your wet from his mouth with the back of his hand.

you could have orgasmed again from the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair in the ambient lighting of his bedroom.

"your so fucking hot" you couldn't stop yourself from saying.

his hazy eyes found yours "You should see yourself right now" he gave you that smirk after he said it.

there was no hiding his arousal. he pulled his boxers down and his member sprang free.

he was hung.

8 inches long and thick.

all you could do was stare your mouth slightly open and your blood pumping between your legs.

"you like what you see i take it," he says that fucking smirk on his face.

all you could do was nod your head.

he spits on the tip and starts pumping himself as he moves forward toward you.

he hooks his arm under your right leg and maneuvers himself between your legs.

"you ready?"

you hum in response

"mmm i need a yes"

"yes, I am ready"

"good girl, thats what i like to hear,"

he inserts himself slowly, you feel the familiar sting of being stretched out

tomura pauses, looking at you as if asking permission to continue.

your hand is covering your mouth but you nod for him to continue.

he does.

you look down to see that he is not even halfway in.

"oh my god" you whisper "its so fucking big"

he just smiles, not losing his focus on what he is doing.

once hes almost all the way in he pauses again, looking at you for permission to continue.

"can you start moving slowly?"

he doesn't acknowledge your words other than thrusting in and out as slowly as he can,

with each thrust in you couldnt with hold your whimpers.

tomura was slowly increasing speed and how deep he was going,

"is this okay" he asked his breath slightly shaking

"oh my god yea" you struggle to get out

he pushes the leg hooked. under his arm up higher and finally bottoms out in you,

you both moan.

"fuck, youre so tight,"

"you youre so big"

his hand hound your face and stroked your cheek before he took your jaw in his hand,

"youre so fucking beautiful"

you could feel your heart flutter in your chest as he pounded in and out of you and an unholy speed.

"lets switch positions"

you hum in response, so fucked out that you couldn't form coherent words.

he grabs a pillow and flips you over, shoving the pillow underneath your hips.

he taps the small of your back, you spread your knees and arch your back for him, grabbing one of the other pillows to hold in your arms.

tomura grabs hold of your hips and inserts himself, going in smoother this time.

just because the entry was easier did not mean the new angle was any mind boggling.

and tomura was not holding himself back in the slightest, he moaned once he was all the way in and wasted no time in absolutely fucking the shit out of you.

you didnt know it was possible for a human being to experience pleasure like this. your second orgasm of the night rips through you with an inhuman moan.

tomura gathers up your hair and pulls you toward him,

"came again so soon? thats my girl"

he wraps one hand around your throat the other finds your shoulder to use as leverage as he continues to fuck you from behind.

his thrusts begin to stutter losing speed and consistency,

"im close i wanna see your face"

"okay" you say through breaths

he once again flips you over, pumping himself as you readjust the pillows under your head and hips,

tomura heaves your legs up and enters you one last time.

your hands find the back of his head and you pull his face up to yours as he resumes his no longer consistent pace.

his hand finds your throat and your other hand finds his bicep, squeezing at the cords of muscle,

you look up at him slowly, from the sight of his cock entering in and out of you, his muscular upper body, to his big red eyes staring down at you. watching you watch him.

one last orgasm rips through you, starting in your stomach and then spreading to your core and to the rest of your body.

tomura finishes at the same time as you, pulling out and coming all over your stomach and boobs.

the two of you just sit there for a moment. both of you breathing heavy. both of you fucked out of your minds.

tomura is the first to break the silence.

he swallows and rubs his jaw,

"do you think we should go back to the party because I kind of want to do that again?"

m.list

[baocean]

the manchester’s

spy!rafe cameron x spy!reader

your partner rafe cameron and you were on a mission for one reason, and one reason only. to take out the target. on this mission, your aliases were husband and wife, playing house for the whole night. who knew that could bring out so many truths?

warnings - violence, smoking, drinking, smut, swearing, murder ermmm

the apartment you’d been staked out in was muggy, dark, and gross.

you’d been sitting there for almost the entire day, just waiting.

you’d set up a long range camera, taking over a poor college student’s apartment, posted across the street at the hotel your target was supposed to be staying in that night.

your target was markus phelps, some middle aged man apart of a terrorist group that assassinated a foreign leader almost a year ago. he had been untraceable until agent williams found him five months ago. it was only supposed to be a capture mission. then, phelps killed her too. now, you were here for blood. you, and your partner rafe cameron. two of the best agents the CIA has to offer.

it was only speculation that phelps was attending this gala, ball type event at this hotel tonight. but, the CIA got wind of it, and you didn’t have anything going on tonight, anyway.

“anything?” rafe asked, twiddling a pen in his hand, sitting in a chair in the corner of the small apartment.

“not yet, there’s security posted out front, though. i think he’s close,” you responded, slouching back, “take over for me, please? my back is killing me.”

rafe rolled his eyes, he smiled and nodded anyway. when he stood up, you had to crane your neck to stare at him. he was almost a foot taller than you, but you used being only five or so inches over five foot to your advantage. no one expects a girl who fits right into the crowd to shoot them in the back of the head.

rafe switched places with you, getting comfy in a sniper position. he’d been an army ranger sniper for almost six years, it was probably a second nature to get his body as low as possible.

you slumped back in his old seat, letting your body relax into its cheap material.

“oh, you’re just gonna love this.” rafe started chuckling, and your content smile dropped.

“are you fucking serious?” you asked, huddling over to the window as you watched markus phelps cockily strut into the hotel lobby.

“let boss man know, and tell him i saw him.” rafe looked up at you, giving an infamous smirk, then started to pack up the gear.

you rolled your eyes, not even three years of working side by side dulled how smug rafe was. pulling out your phone, you dialed your boss’ number, the dial only ringing once.

“blake, he’s here.” you spoke into the phone, catching sight of rafe’s head tipping to the side. you made a face at him. “cameron spotted him.”

“good, you know what to do. get it done, agent.” griffin blake’s voice was gruff, powerful, steady. “you two have got a reservation under manchester.” that was all, then, he hung up on you.

“alright, let’s do this.” you shoved your phone back into your pocket, shrugging your shoulders with a smile. rafe grabbed the hard cases full of fancy cameras and guns, then his personal duffle carrying everything else, and headed to the door.

he’d always been sweet like that, only letting you carry your black duffle bag filled with whatever precautious outfits you needed for that mission, never the heavy stuff.

you two walked across the street and into the fancy hotel, glass chandeliers and butlers waiting to open the doors for you. walking up to reception, rafe threw an arm around you.

“hi there, we have a reservation for manchester.” rafe offered the employee behind the desk, offering her a warm, fake smile.

you gave her one as well, reaching your hand up to fumble with rafe’s, the one hanging off your shoulder.

“welcome to the plaza, mr. and mrs. manchester. we’re excited to have you.”

she handed you key cards, offered valet, then sent you on your way with an award winning smile.

“she was cute.” rafe mumbled in your ear, earning a elbow to the gut.

“that’s not very husband like.” you chuckled, swinging with him as you headed to the elevators.

“speaking of, we need rings.” rafe held his hand up, waving his fingers.

“make sure mine is pretty.” you said, watched as the elevator doors closed, then detached from him.

“pretty ring for a pretty lady, got it.” rafe pulled out his phone, typing a few times.

“laney says it’s all in the room. dress, suit, everything.” he said as the doors of the elevator opened.

it was true, when you walked into the hotel room, you saw the beautiful red dress and black suit hanging on the door frame of the closet. necklaces, earrings, and wedding bands were sitting on the dresser.

“two hours ‘till the party. you wanna shower first?” rafe dropped his cases on the bed, turning to you. you were already closing the bathroom door, making rafe chuckle.

twenty minutes later, you were out of the shower and in the complimentary hotel robe, staring at yourself in the mirror as you blow dried your hair.

rafe’s head peaked out from behind the shower curtain and you saw the shampoo you used earlier in his hair, made you laugh.

“so how do we wanna do this?” he asked. you shrugged. “we could pull the ‘my husband doesn’t have to know’ card. and i’m sitting here waiting for him when you get back here.”

you turned to him, groaning. “why does it always have to be me?”

“i know i’m gorgeous, honey, but i don’t think phelps swings that way.” rafe grinned at you, you tilted your head in annoyance.

“fine.” was all you said, turning around and putting down the hair dryer, then plugging in the curling iron.

“hey, throw me a towel, wife?” rafe called from behind the shower curtain as the water turned off, and you pushed your hand behind the curtain, him grabbing the white towel from you.

he stepped out of the bath, towel hung low around his waist. “should i shave?” he leaned over the counter, hands running over his jaw.

he truly was gorgeous, in every way. it wasn’t something you were denying. there’d been several times where you’d think ‘one time won’t hurt anyone’, but you couldn’t possibly risk it, right?

“no, like you better that way.” you clipped your hair up, started curling your hair. rafe looked at you through the mirror, shamelessly admiring you.

he left you in the bathroom, taking time through his routine, then pulling on his suit

you’d taken almost an hour to get ready, perfectly crafting your makeup, then forcing rafe to zip your dress.

“okay, so i’m noah. you’re scarlett.” rafe looked over the packet as you strapped the beretta nato micro to your upper thigh.

“scarlett? seriously?” you laughed, pulling your dress back down into position. it was a dark red color, perfectly suiting your skin tone.

“feels like they’re running out of ideas. remember when i was james ford? that was the best one, yet.” rafe grinned, grabbing his glock and pushing it into his holster.

you nodded, laughing, fixing last minute touches before grabbing the ring on the dresser and slipping it on. rafe’s eyes watched the motion, leaning to grab his ring as well.

“we’re so domestic. the manchester’s, ladies and gentlemen.” rafe laughed, throwing an arm around you as you walked out of your hotel room.

the lobby was filled with people in fancy get ups and holding champagne flutes. the two of you followed them to the ball room, the sound of jazz music slowly rising.

it was easy to spot phelps, the guy was dressed in a bright orange blazer. you rolled your eyes.

“look at that idiot. can’t wait to kill him.” rafe leaned in, mumbling in your ear before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

you giggled, the two of you separating to mingle with the other guests, rafe leaving you with a, “see you later, mrs. manchester.”

it was too easy, because you caught phelps attention almost immediately. you kept finding him staring at you, looking at you up and down.

it’d been an hour of talking to the wives of powerful men, sharing secret glances with rafe, checking in on each other, and watching phelps practically eye fuck you.

you were mid conversation with two women, listening along to their inappropriate jokes about the hot man with no woman on his arm.

“who are you talking about?” you inquired, searching around the room for who they could possibly be reviewing.

“him.” one girl pointed a perfectly manicured finger over your right shoulder, and you turned to see rafe. you groaned, of course.

he was walking right for you, smiling at you like you were the light of his life.

“hi ladies, noah manchester. don’t mind if i steal my beautiful wife away from you for a moment, do ya?” rafe tucked an arm on your waist, leaving the women you were standing with absolutely speechless.

“bye, girls.” you smiled politely, turning away with rafe.

you walked out of the ballroom, sharing one single glance with phelps. tucking into an empty coat closet, rafe slotted you between the wall and him.

“we are so in. have you seen the way he’s looking at you?” rafe shaking his head, laughing.

“i know, unbelievable.” you laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear. rafe’s eyes shot up to watch.

“try to bring him up to the room within the hour,” he looked down at his watch, “i’ll go up right now, give me like ten minutes, then go talk to him. i’ll be waiting there.”

you nodded, going to say something when the coat closet’s door knob started to jiggle.

“shit, uh,” rafe trailed off, pulling you in by your neck and kissing you. you didn’t have time to process it before the door opened and you were being yelled at.

rafe pulled away from you, some of your lipstick stuck onto his lips. he looked at the guy yelling at you two, smirking. “what, i can’t kiss my wife?”

“get out of here, you two.” the guy barked, rafe turning back to you and giving you another chaste kiss before stepping past the guy, pulling you out with him.

he nodded at you once, then headed towards the elevators.

you stood there shocked for a few beats, before shaking it off. you went back into the ballroom, smiling at some people.

you sat down at the bar, ordering a drink and patiently waiting.

it was only five or so minutes when phelps slotted in next to you, reaking of smelly cologne and cigarettes.

“hi, gorgeous.” he spoke, all grainy and brittle. you turned to him, giving him a smile.

“hi.”

“i’m markus phelps.” he stuck a hand out to shake yours.

“scarlett, nice to meet you.” you fluttered your eyelids, worked your charm. phelps looked down, clocking your ring when you met his hand.

“ah, you’re married.” phelps nodded his head, testing you.

“we’re getting a divorce.” you shrugged. phelps seemed to like that answer, because he leaned in closer.

fifteen minutes later, you were letting phelps feel you up in the elevator, waist up of course, given you had a gun strapped to your thigh.

you led him to your room, hand in hand, heart beating out of your chest in excitement. the CIA has been waiting for this moment for five months, and tonight was the night.

you unlocked the door, pushing phelps into the dark room with an excessive amount of force.

kissing him, you pulled him to the bed, letting him from you and fall back onto it.

“hey markus,” rafe turned on the lamp, sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, a glock 43 shifting around in his right hand, “how’re you doing?”

“oh, what the fuck is this?” phelps shot up as you backed away from him, leaning on the dresser.

“what do you think it is, dumbass?” you scrunched your face.

“let me tell you, phelps. you made it pretty fucking easy for us.” rafe chuckled, standing up to come and stand next to you. “trust me man, i know she’s stunning, but didn’t your mother teach you anything about strangers?”

phelps looked scared shitless, giving you a satisfactory tingle in your chest.

you turned to rafe, “pretty smart move kissing me earlier, by the way.”

“thanks, been wanting to do that forever.” he smirked, never looking away from phelps.

“who are you? who are you with?” phelps shook, not daring to stand up from the bed.

you contemplated, shrugging your shoulders. “i guess we could tell him, he’s not leaving this hotel room unless it’s in a body bag.”

“CIA. you remember that agent you killed five months ago?” rafe asked, staring down at his gun as he raised it.

phelps couldn’t speak, a guilty, evil look painting his greasy features.

“this is for her.” rafe pulled the trigger, the silencer making a ‘pop’ sound ring through the hotel room.

rafe sighed, watching phelp’s body go limp on the hotel bed.

“call the boss man.” he shrugged, looking at you before releasing the magazine from the gun and into his hand, turning away from you.

only two or three hours later, rafe and you were in the private jet sending you back to headquarters in virginia.

he was staring out the window, hand holding his chin up. after the first odd year or so, you realized rafe always needed some time to think after he killed someone.

he’d been silent for almost half an hour before you spoke.

“did you really mean what you said back there? that you’ve wanted to kiss me forever?” you asked him, he turned to you, sighing.

“yeah.” he shrugged, his lips tipping up into something almost a smile.

you hummed, not exactly sure what to say. if it had been a target, you would know. but these were real feelings, and your partner you were dealing with.

“i can’t tell what you’re thinking. incredible poker face, by the way.” rafe chucked awkwardly.

“well, seven years of socom will do that to you.” you tipped your head in a smile.

straight out of high school, just like rafe, you joined the military. only difference was, you went to special operations command and rafe went to sniper school.

after seven years, you were done, but socom had trained you well.

“right. always forget you’re an operator.” rafe nodded, looking at the floor between you two.

“i’m thinking that this would be a little too complicated to kiss for real.” you sighed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

“one time wouldn’t hurt anyone.” rafe shrugged, looking out the window, then peaking a glance at you to size your reaction.

your eyes popped open, shocked in what he had just said. then, you started laughing. “i always say that.”

“about us?” rafe smirked, leaning back. you nodded, rolling your eyes and smiling.

the two of you stared at each other, both of you daring the other that would lead to a conversation about you two.

“i’ll be right back.” you mumbled, standing up and heading to the back of the plane. you locked yourself in the bathroom, playing with your hair.

making yourself busy, all so you could catch your breath, you washed your hands, checked your clothes.

when you opened the door, rafe was standing there, leaning on the wall.

you just looked at each other for a second, watching as his eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, then back down to your lips.

“one time won’t hurt?” rafe muttered. your breath hitched, rafe noticing the action.

“one time won’t hurt.” you said barely above a whisper, pulling him by his t-shirt into the small bathroom.

your lips connected, and you were finally able to enjoy the kiss, memorize it. the way his lips moved against yours, his hands lying gently on your hips. you wanted to remember everything.

he pushed you up against the wall of the bathroom, grabbing your jaw to pepper kisses down your neck.

wasting no time at all, he’d removed clothing and tossed it to the side.

rafe wasn’t hiding the fact that he was mesmerized. sure, he’d seen you in swimsuits, your body turned away while you hastily changed into a different cover outfit, he’d seen pieces of your naked skin plenty of times.

but this was different, this was completely, truly all for him.

you smiled up at him, grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss.

he dropped to his knees, grabbing your leg and pushing it up to spread you apart.

his breath fanned against you, giving you goosebumps in return.

“god, i hope we get to play mr. and mrs. manchester again soon.” rafe chuckled, kissing the inner parts of your thigh.

you laughed, your heading falling back. “why?”

“mmm, just brings something inside me out.” rafe mumbled, placing a kiss on your clit that had you gasping.

he pushed a finger into you, watching your reaction. he smiled when your eyes fell closed and your mouth opened.

he pumped his finger, adding a second one only moments later.

you’d thought this was the best it could get, with a man literally on his knees in front of you, giving you the best feeling ever.

then, rafe’s mouth connected with your clit, and a sound fell from your lips so suddenly you were unsure of who it actually came from.

rafe couldn’t get enough, he’d been waiting for this for three years, not sure if he had just fallen asleep in his chair back in the cabin. either way, he was going to make this the best he possibly could.

he popped up from his knees, earning a comment and a whine from you, before he lined himself up with your entrance.

he pushed into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of it.

rafe didn’t let you adjust before he was pulling out and slamming back into you, panting with each thrust.

“shit, baby, you feel so good.” rafe mumbled, barely above a whisper.

he was grabbing at you everywhere, running his hands over your cheek and hair, pinching at your tits, gripping your hips to keep you in place.

his hand fell down to your thigh, pushing it up farther towards your chest, making you cry out.

his hand flew to your mouth, the size of his hand taking up nearly half of his face.

“i’m flattered, honey, but can’t have the pilot hearing us now, right?” rafe smirked, taking away his hand replace it with a kiss.

“but the thrill of getting caught is so fun.” you drawled out, dipping your head to bite and kiss at his neck.

“jesus, woman.” rafe sighed happily, twitched inside of you.

his pace quickened, making you go silent with bliss, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth.

his hand fell back down to your clit, making you fall over the edge.

your orgasm hit you, hard. you were pretty sure you were seeing stars, head falling back as your mouth opened.

rafe took the opportunity to stick two fingers in your mouth, your lips wrapping around them to muffle your moans.

he continued his ruthless pace, his head going fuzzy with the feeling of you clenching around him and your warm mouth around his fingers.

you reached up to grab rafe’s wrist, his eyes catching on the shiny diamond on your ring finger.

his breath hitched, plenty of impossible and unrealistic thoughts blazing in his mind.

the simple thought of you being his, your name followed by ‘cameron’, coming home from missions to a shared home and maybe a cute dog, too.

his eyes screwed shut, thrusts getting sloppy as his head fell into your shoulder, finishing inside you.

once he slowed to a stop, his hands left you and landed on the sink your back was leaning on.

“holy shit.” you mumbled, laughing.

“yeah, i know.” rafe laughed along with you, his head still hung low.

you put your hands on his shoulder, catching your breath in the process.

rafe looked up at you, a genuine look in his eye as he pushed some of your hair stuck to your face out of the way.

“same time, next mission?” a cocky smile painting his features, his hand settling on your cheek.

“i thought we agreed on one time?” you tilted your head, tongue poking out to lick your lips.

“i don’t think i could live with only one time after that.” rafe chuckled, leaning in for another kiss.

a/n - i’ll keep it so for real with you men in black inspired me to make this fic, then i realized this is so mr. and mrs. smith, so thank you for the inspo simon kinberg! ☺️

[finkinthisfrew]

TEACHER'S PET (Pt.5)

cw: 18+, teacher/student, teasing, taunting, daddy, praise kink, other stuff, v inappropriate :)

You follow Professor Healy up to his office, hands shaking in anticipation, unsure of what to expect next.

“Sit,” he commands as he steps through the door. You enter the room, obediently walking over to the chair facing his desk. 

“No,” he says authoritatively as you move to sit, causing you to freeze where you stand. “Edge of the desk. Facing the window.”

Confused, but too anxious to question him, you step behind his desk, hopping up on its edge as you hear the door close shut behind you. Another click- the lock. You sit quietly, heart pounding, eyes glued to your Professors chair, oblivious to the wall of colorful leaves behind it, branches dancing in powerful fall winds as you listen to the sound of his footsteps approaching.

“Miss Thompson,” he starts quietly, though the authority in his voice is unwavering as he continues. “You seem to think indecency on an Ivy League campus is not only appropriate, but worth flaunting,” he says as he steps into your view, eyes looking down at his busied hands. His fingers work at the cuffs of his dress shirt, then he rolls his sleeves up meticulously, exposing his veiny tattooed forearms one at a time. You raise your eyebrows at him, tilting your nose up snootily as you open your mouth to protest.

“”Well maybe if y-“ you start hotly, but he cuts you off immediately, disinterested in whatever you have to say.

“That wasn’t a question- it was a statement. And if you could spend more than two seconds listening to me instead of thinking about my cock all day long then maybe you would realize that, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Thompson?” He asks, towering over you with eyes so dark they look nearly black as he steps towards you.

“W-well, I,” you stutter, cheeks flushing, but he continues like you haven’t spoken as he bends down towards you, placing his hands on either side of you on the desk.

“You spend class after class sitting there in your absurdly tiny skirts, biting your little lip until it’s raw and squeezing your thighs together like I won’t notice, desperate to appease me when called upon in class… yet the moment class is done, you become a tyrant. A good student should always be good- not just when she chooses to be…” he says, his tone displeased as his eyes bear down on you. You desperately want to please him, reaching your hand out to take his tie, dangling before you like bait.

“I want to be good for you,” you say quietly, gripping his tie with both hands and pulling on it gently- pleading as you look up into his dark eyes. “Let me be good for you.” You tug, tilting your lips up towards his, searching for approval. 

He looks down at you thoughtfully, mulling something over in his mind as his eyes wander your face. Abruptly, he brushes your hands off his tie, turns, and sits down in his chair, crossing his arms as his eyes travel slowly, greedily up your body, finally piercing through your soul once more before speaking.

“Show me your homework,” he commands.

“What?” You ask, caught off guard.

“You heard me,” he says, his voice low, thick like molasses. “I’d like to grade your work,” he says darkly, face dripping with lust as his eyes wander down your chest to your skirt, making you squeeze your legs together without realizing. 

“Spread.”

You spread your already slick legs automatically, the sight of your Professor sitting back in his chair lazily as he watches you spread your legs only exciting you more.

“Ah-ah-“ he tuts, lifting his chin as he watches. “Wider… That’s it,” he says approvingly as you spread your legs as far as you can, exposing yourself entirely to him. “Good girl,” he says, mouth remaining slightly open, slack as he watches your juices drip onto his desk where he was to grade papers later that night.

A moan slips from your lips, his praise sending a shiver of pleasure through your core. 

“How do you already look so fucked out?” He says quietly to himself in disbelief. “I’m not even touching you and you’re already moaning,” he says, a smug smile teasing his lips. You nod innocently at him as you run your fingers up the inside of your thigh.

“I like pleasing you,” you said softly as your fingers meet your wetness. You slowly drag them up your dripping slit, making your stomach quake with pleasure. Your finger finds your clit and you begin to rub tight circles into it, moaning a bit louder this time as he watches your fingers intently, eyes flitting back up to yours periodically as you work.

“A little slower- there you go,” he directs you. You slow your speed, whimpering as you scan his face, the memory of his lip in your mouth screaming at you, demanding to be relived once more. But you want to be obedient- you want nothing more than to please him. Heat builds inside you as you watch the corner of your Professors mouth twitch up a your whimpers. The coil inside you tightens more than usual, much deeper than it has before, but it’s still not enough, so you pout in frustration. 

He stands up slowly, his eyes penetrating yours as he cocks his head to one side, taking a step towards you as he slips his hands in his pockets.

“Does it feel like it’s not enough?” He taunts with a small smile. You nod your head rapidly as you watch him approach you.

“It’s never enough,” you whisper, your eyebrows creasing in pained frustration.

“How many times have you tried? Enough?” He asks, his tone dripping with lust as he takes another step. He’s now standing between your open legs, looking down at your hand, then back up into your eyes, his pupils dilated with desire. You nod your head, pushing your lower lip out even further as your frustration builds.

He shakes his still cocked head faintly in disappointment as he slips one hand from his pocket, reaching it up to your face

“Words, Miss Thompson,” he breathes as he looks down at you, taking your chin delicately in his hand. His thumb caresses your bottom lip and you whine at his touch, watching the corners of his mouth turn into a greedy smile through your hazy eyes.

“Too many,” you pant quietly, but your answer isn’t enough for Professor Healy, who gives you another warning look as his hand sharply tips your head up to him. “Every day after class. Every night before bed. Every morning when I wake up. Sometimes even between classes,” you list between moans, panting as you speak.

“And what do you think about?” He asks, dropping his hand from your face to your lap, trailing a single finger down the top of your thigh towards your knee. The rough finger against your hyper-sensitive skin sends a wave of electricity through you, causing another breathy whine to escape your lips.

“You,” you breathe as you close your eyes and slip two fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, a new pleasure blooming within you. But the sensation is too dull- your fingers too small, too gentle to satisfy your need for fullness. It’s not enough. You push them in anyways, fumbling somewhat rhythmically- desperate to relieve that burning need for release.

“Well, naturally,” your Professor agrees in a pleased tone. “And you’ve been doing this every day, multiple times a day, and you’re still not satisfied?” He asks in both curiosity and awe. You open your eyes halfway as you press the heel of your palm into your clit.

“No, it never feels right,” you groan in frustration at the feeling. “I need your help,” you whine. “I need you, Professor.”

“Ahhh,” he says in understanding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He reaches his hand up to your breast, cupping it just barely as he swipes your hardened nipple through the thin material of your shirt with his thumb, making you gasp at the shock of pleasure. He cocks his head to one side, enthralled by your physical reaction to his touch. You look up at him with renewed fire in your eyes, and he lowers his other hand to your thigh, trailing it slowly back up your bare skin as his eyes pierce through you. “You need some tutoring,” he breathes darkly as he pushes your hand away, replacing it with his own. You gasp at his touch, missing the shudder of pleasure that rolls through your Professor’s body at your erotic moans.

His fingers find your clit first and you groan- loudly- gripping the table with fingers like vices. His calloused thumb rubs wave after wave of pleasure into your clit as you mewl, watching his expert thumb work. His fingers are much longer, much thicker, and much rougher than yours. You want them inside you now.

“Fuck,” you whine, chest heaving as he picks up his speed on your clit.

“Are you taking notes?” He rasps, his own breath growing ragged as his other hand slips up the hem of your shirt, his weathered skin leaving tingles in its wake as it travels back up to your breast, cupping the warm, soft mound of skin.

“More,” you complain in a low whine. “I need you- to fill me,” you say as you bite back another moan. You reach your hand out to his buckle, pulling him closer to you and begin to fumble at the clasp. Suddenly his hand leaves your clit, gently gripping your wrist as he tuts once more. You whimper.

“I’m not done, yet, darling,” he coos as he leans into your ear. “I have to check your work first.” You groan as you feel his hand between your legs once more, his fingers toying lightly at your entrance, teasing you as your hips reach out desperately for more. You feel his other hand trail lightly round your neck, his thumb lingering on your throat for a moments before reaching around, taking a handful of your hair in his grip. He pulls, tilting your head back as he dips a single finger into you, no more than an inch. You groan and whine as you try to push your hips forward, but he keeps his finger just out of reach. 

“Look at you, writhing around all desperate for me,” he says, voice gravelly in your ear. “So eager… Do you want more, baby?”

“Yesss,” you plead, turning your head in his grasp to place your lips on the closest part of him to you- reaching desperately for his jaw, thirsting for a taste of him. 

“Of course you do,” he says as he lets you nip at his jaw, smiling as he withdraws his finger, slowly replacing it with two as he pushes them in a bit further, stretching you wide. You throw your hands around his neck, anchoring yourself in the sea of pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing around you as you dig your nails into your Professors skin. 

“My best student,” he praises, placing a gentle kiss on your temple as you whine loudly in his ear. He pushes his fingers in the rest of the way, all the way up to his knuckles. His two fingers are thicker than three of yours, their roughness only adding to the whirlwind of pleasure building within you as he begins to pump his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, every stroke against your G-spot earning a moan from you.

“Is this what you needed? To be filled up a bit?” He taunts you sweetly. “All those performances and tantrums you threw for me, and all you needed was for me to fill you a little?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe, the word slipping from you naturally before you can catch yourself. Your heart stops as you feel his fingers pause.

“Ohhh, I see,” he says with a smile, lifting his face to look down on you. His fingers resume fucking you, picking up speed, just barely, making you mewl frantically. “Had I known every time you said Professor you meant daddy…” his voice trails off as he looks down at his fingers. You watch him lick his lip, then bite it slightly as he watches in devilish fascination as your hips buck uncontrollably against his hand. “Very good girl,” he says, almost to himself. You groan in pleasure, his praise like its own toy, sending a shiver of satisfaction up your spine, escaping your lips with a shudder.

“Do you want my cock, baby? Is that what you need? Not full enough?” He coos sweetly.

“Yes- fuck, yes,” you reply exasperatedly.

“Yes, what?” He says, raising his eyebrows at you expectantly. You groan through clenched teeth, his mutual need for the word sexier than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper as he smiles, pumping his fingers even faster inside of you, a burning ball of pleasure building steadily in your core. “I need you to,” you add in a choke as you watch the vein in his forearm strain against his skin as his fingers curl, every stroke pushing you closer.

“Well I have some unfortunate news for you,” he whispers in your ear. “You see, you’ve been very bad,” he growls, lips grazing the skin of your neck, teasing you with their touch. “Traipsing around campus in this little getup, flaunting your ass to everyone like it doesn’t belong to me.”

You can’t help but groan at his possessive words- all you’ve wanted was to be his.

“Trying to tease me- trying to tempt me,” he continues, pressing his thumb harder into your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Hazel… And bad girls don’t get the privilege of being filled and fucked till they scream,” he taunts as you whimper in frustration. “They don’t get to be pounded till they can’t walk anymore- till they can’t think anymore,” he says, nipping your burning skin at the base of your neck between his words. “You haven’t earned that privilege, Miss Thompson,” he said, his mouth finally planting itself above your collarbone, warm tongue swirling against your skin before harshly sucking on it, making you moan loudly in euphoria. 

“How do I earn it?” You beg desperately through panting breath.

“Ohoho, my darling…” you hear him chuckle below you, his face lifting up to look at you with a devilish smile. His mouth hovers above yours as he looks up at you with wide blackened eyes in pity, warm breath taunting you as it washes over your tender lips- bitten raw from countless bitten back screams. “Did you fuck yourself one too many times for me this weekend?” He asks in a mocking tone as he pouts. “You’ve already forgotten what I said? Too cock-drunk for daddy to remember what he told you?” He pushes you down to your elbows, then grinds his hips into yours, his fingers pulsing rapidly within you. He presses his forehead into yours, nostrils flaring, pupils blown-out as he growls into you, “You’re not going to touch my cock- you’re not going to feel my cock- you’re not even going to so much as see my cock for the next four years. I hope that little grab you tried earlier in my trousers will be enough to tide you over until graduation, because you’re going to spend the rest of your Masters Degree replaying it- replaying this- the time you came so close to getting fucked by your Professor- night after night all alone in your bed, until you it drives you mad. I’ll be surprised if you don’t start touching yourself in classes after this… you’ll spend the next four years crawling at the thought of getting to feel my cock inside of you. That’s a decent enough punishment, don’t you agree?” He says menacingly, your clit burning with pleasure under his thumb as he coaxes your orgasm closer.

You shake your head furiously, your need to be fucked by him clouding your mind in such a thick haze of lust you can’t seem to think straight as you ride the high of pleasure.

“No? You don’t agree?” He asks threateningly. Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you whimpering, shaking against him, the overwhelming emptiness leaving you feeling deranged. You nod desperately- anything to get his fingers back inside you.

“That’s my smart girl,” he coos sweetly. You feel his fingers pushing back inside you, the relief almost sending tears to your eyes as your elbows give out. Your Professor catches you with his other hand, holding you up as he pumps his fingers faster. “That’s my smart girl. Yes baby, you’re right,” he says as he kisses your forehead tenderly. “You earned your punishment and you’re taking it so well for daddy.”

He places slow gentle kisses on your face, your voice emitting an endless stream of moans and whining, teetering so closely to the edge of your climax, you don’t think you could remember your name if he asked you.

“Shhh, you don’t need to worry about that now. Right now you need to come for daddy. Can you do that for me baby girl? That’s it, you sound so beautiful when you scream, my angel. Moan for me just like that, there you go,” he says as you buck your hips uncontrollably against his relentless fingers, unravelling in his grasp. “Do you need daddy to fuck you a little harder with his fingers? Is that it? Such a needy girl…” he taunts with a smile, your climax only seconds away as the pleasure begins to overflow inside of you. “Are you ready to cum for daddy? Yes? Yes, I think so too, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. All over my fingers. Ah- that’s it. Good girl, just like that. Perfect… My perfect girl…” he mutters the last few words into your skin as your orgasm bursts through your core, spreading through your body to your fingertips and toes, electric waves of pleasure splintering you from within as you scream. You shudder in his grip, legs shaking against his hips as your eyes roll back into your head. Pleasure explodes and pulses within you as his fingers slow with the settling of your body, leaving you limp in the strong grasp of his arm. The pleasure envelops you, slowly bringing you back to consciousness as you catch your breath from the release, relief flooding your body after weeks of aching. You eventually open your eyes only to find your Professor looking down at his hand, still between your legs.

“Look at this pretty little mess you made for me,” he says, tilting his head as admires the juices coating his dripping hand. He moves his fingers around inside you curiously, pulling them in and out as he plays with your wetness, periodically looking up to watch you as you jerk and jolt at his movements, too sensitive to be played with after such a strong climax, but too drained to stop him. 

“Feel that? Do you feel my fingers inside you?” He asks you softly. You shiver as he cradles you closer to him, his fingers still toying with you, then manage to nod your head twice. “Memorize that. Because you’re not going to feel them for a very. Long. Time.”

You can’t help the whimpers that escape your lips as he withdraws his fingers. He looks down at you with an indecipherable look as his eyes travel over your face. Then, he leans down, placing a single gentle kiss on your lips, his mouth moving carefully and purposefully as a new kind of flutter awakens in your core. When your lips finally part, you watch as he steps away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the juices from his hand.

“You’re forgiven for your behavior,” he starts quietly, wiping each finger meticulously. “But if you try to tempt me like that again, I promise the next punishment won’t be nearly as pleasant for you,” he says without looking at you. “You’re dismissed.”

You stand up in a daze, furrowing your brow in confusion as you walk towards the door obediently, too fucked-out to do much more than simply follow his command. You open the door, glancing back at your teacher once more, his back now facing you as he looks out the window of his office before you leave, closing the door behind you. You lean against it, the click of the lock a minute later causing you to flinch. You rest your head back against the glass window of the door, catching your breath as you play through what just happened, the wet mess between your legs becoming more noticeable outside the steamy haze of the office.

It didn’t make sense. Why didn’t he fuck you? Did he not want to? That wouldn’t make sense. He didn’t have to touch you, and yet he went out of his way to make you cum anyways? Eagerly cooing every sweet nothing you could have possibly wanted into your ear when he could have just sent you home…  That only made the mystery of him not fucking you even more confusing. He had every opportunity to fuck you just now, and yet he didn’t even so much as stroke himself. Maybe your sexual desire wasn’t as mutual as you’d thought it was… 

A sudden sound shakes you from your spiral. You scan the empty hall, waiting for the sound to repeat itself in the hopes of identifying it. You stand there quietly, ears perked. You hear it again, realizing the sound was coming from behind you.

A whimper.

You turn, then reach as high as you can on your tiptoes to the tiny sliver of glass that hadn’t been covered in newspaper.

Just barely, you see him. The two fingers that had just been inside you, the same one’s he’d just cleaned in front of you now in his mouth, his eyes closed as he sucks on them. You can’t see his other hand, hidden behind the desk, but you slowly piece together what he’s doing, the rapid rhythmic movement in his lap paired with his soft whimpers finally clicking in your mind. You catch yourself as your hand drifts back down between your legs, clenching it into a tight fist before you could do anything crazy. You can’t get caught out here- another teacher could walk by at any moment and see you straining on your toes to spy on your teacher in his private quarters. No, this you’d have to enjoy later. You let yourself watch him pump himself a another minute longer, taking extra care to memorize every whimper before promptly running down the hall, desperate to get home so you could replay the look on his face when he caught his bottom lip with his teeth and chewed it, hair bouncing with the speed of his hand before looking down with a pained expression at the small crumpled pile of black lace on his desk…

[saebyeokbliss]

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART IX.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do?

warnings: angst, death, swearing, yelling, more stress HAHA

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

The hospital always felt colder than it should. The sterile white walls and the faint smell of antiseptic clung to you like a second skin every time you walked through those doors. It was the kind of place that drained the warmth out of you, leaving only a gnawing sense of dread in its wake.

You hated being there. But you hated what it meant to not be there even more.

When you entered Veda’s room, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor greeted you, a sound you had come to associate with her continued survival. She was propped up in the hospital bed, her small frame swallowed by the too-big sheets. Her face was pale, and the bruises from the accident had faded to a sickly yellow, but when her eyes met yours, she gave you a tired smile.

“Hey, Vee,” you said softly, setting your bag down on the chair by the bed.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice weak but steady.

You pulled up a chair beside her, reaching out to take her hand. Her fingers were cold, and they trembled slightly as she squeezed your hand back. You’d been careful to hide your own exhaustion from her—she didn’t need to know about the sleepless nights, the eviction notice, or the constant weight of your parents’ demands. She had enough to deal with without worrying about you.

“How are you feeling today?” you asked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her forehead.

“Better,” she said, though the effort it took her to speak made it clear she was lying. “The nurses said I might be able to start walking again soon. Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “That’s great.”

She studied your face for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “You look tired.”

You laughed softly, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just busy, you know? Work, school, all that fun stuff.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press you. Instead, she leaned back against the pillows, her gaze drifting to the window. “Do you think I’ll ever get out of here?” she asked quietly.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Of course you will,” you said finally, your voice firm. “You’re going to get better, Vee. I promise.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way her lips curved into a faint smile told you that she wanted to believe you.

The two of you talked for a while, about nothing and everything all at once. You told her about the diner, about your coworkers, about the funny things customers said that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. She told you about the books she’d been reading, about the nurses who were kind to her, and about the dreams she had of being anywhere but there.

For a little while, it felt almost normal. Like the hospital walls weren’t closing in, and the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on your shoulders. But then, without warning, everything changed.

“Vee?” you said, noticing how her eyelids started to droop and her grip on your hand loosened. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond.

“Vee,” you said again, your voice rising slightly as panic began to creep in.

Her head lolled to the side, and the faint smile that had been on her lips was gone. The beeping of the heart monitor that had been your constant companion suddenly turned sharp and erratic, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

“Veda!” you shouted, standing up so fast that the chair toppled over behind you. Her chest wasn’t moving. Her lips were turning blue.

The room dissolved into chaos as alarms blared and nurses rushed in, pushing you back as they surrounded her bed. Someone was shouting something—maybe it was you—but you couldn’t hear it over the deafening roar in your ears.

You watched helplessly as they worked on her, their movements frantic and precise. The minutes stretched on forever, each one more agonizing than the last. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The heart monitor flatlined, the steady drone filling the room like a death knell. One of the nurses looked up at the clock, her expression grim. “Time of death: 3:47 PM.”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Veda was gone.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, numb and shaking, before your parents arrived. The moment your mother stepped into the room, her eyes went straight to you. Her face twisted in grief, but beneath it, there was something else—something sharp and accusatory.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “What did you do?”

You stared at her, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to find the words. “I—I didn’t—”

“She was fine this morning!” your mother shouted, tears streaming down her face. “She was fine, and now she’s—she’s—” She broke off, sobbing, as your father stepped forward, his expression hard.

“This is your fault,” he said, his voice cold and final. “You should’ve been watching her. You should’ve done something.”

Something inside you snapped.

“My fault?” you said, your voice rising as you stood up, fury coursing through you like wildfire. “You’re blaming me for this? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Don't curse at your parents! Who else is there to blame?” your father shot back. “You were here! You were supposed to be taking care of her!”

“I have been taking care of her!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I’ve been taking care of everything! While you sit at home doing nothing, I’ve been working myself to death to pay for her medical bills, to keep a roof over your heads, to make sure she had a chance! And now you’re going to stand there and blame me?”

Your mother’s sobs grew louder, but she didn’t say anything. Your father opened his mouth to argue, but you didn’t let him.

“I’ve lost everything because of you!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. “My house, my money, my future—everything! And for what? So you could sit there and tell me I’m not doing enough? I’ve been breaking myself apart for you, and it’s still not enough, is it? It’s never enough!”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the anger and grief swirling inside you like a storm.

Your father didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, while your mother cried into her hands. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t care what they thought. You didn’t care about their guilt trips or their accusations. You were done.

The walk back to your apartment felt endless, each step heavier than the last. The cold night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was a storm of emotions—grief, anger, guilt—each one pulling you in a different direction until you felt like you were going to burst. Veda was gone. The words echoed in your head, hollow and cruel. She was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

By the time you reached your building, your legs felt like they might give out beneath you. You climbed the stairs slowly, every breath a struggle, until you reached your door. The eviction notice was gone—it was stuffed in your bag, forgotten for now—but the weight of it still lingered, a constant reminder that tomorrow would be your last day here.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quiet of the apartment almost deafening. The single-room space, small and cluttered as it was, had never felt emptier. The air was cold, stagnant, and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the lights. You dropped your bag on the floor and sank into the sofa, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.

For a long time, you just sat there, the sobs wracking your body as the events of the day crashed over you like a wave. You cried for Veda, for the life she’d never get to live. You cried for yourself, for the weight you’d been carrying for so long. And you cried for the anger you felt toward your parents, for the guilt that came with it, and for the fact that, deep down, you still wanted to make them proud.

When the tears finally slowed, leaving you hollow and shaking, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to get some water. That’s when you saw it.

An envelope sat on the counter, stark white against the dark surface. Your brow furrowed as you approached it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your name scrawled on the front in hurried, slanted handwriting. You recognized it instantly.

Sae-byeok.

Your hands trembled as you picked up the envelope, dread and confusion swirling in your chest. You tore it open carefully, your breath catching when you saw the contents.

Money. More money than you’d ever seen in your life.

You dumped the stack of bills onto the counter, your chest tightening as you tried to process what you were seeing. It couldn’t be real—there was no way—but the weight of the cash in your hands told you otherwise. And then, tucked beneath the last stack of bills, you found the note.

“You need it more than me.”

That was all it said. Short, simple, and so Sae-byeok that it made your head spin.

Your emotions swung wildly from confusion to disbelief to anger, the grief you’d been drowning in now replaced by a white-hot rage. You stared at the money, your hands curling into fists as the words of the note burned into your mind.

You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want this.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the envelope, stuffed the money back inside, and stormed out the door.

The diner was quiet when you arrived, the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of dishes the only sounds. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed open the door, your steps quick and purposeful as you made your way to the break room. You didn’t care that your shift wasn’t for hours or that barging in like this was bound to cause a scene. You needed to see her.

Sae-byeok was sitting at the small table in the break room, unbothered as she sipped from a mug of coffee. She looked up when you entered, her expression unreadable as her dark eyes flicked to the envelope in your hand.

“What the hell is this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with anger as you slammed the envelope onto the table.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she set her mug down and leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to buy me off,” you snapped, your voice rising. “Do you think this fixes anything? Do you think throwing money at me is going to make everything better?”

“It’s not about fixing anything,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about helping.”

“I don’t need your help!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I don’t need your money, I don’t need your pity, and I sure as hell don’t need you swooping in like some savior to save me from my own damn life!”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger beneath her calm exterior. “You’re so full of shit,” she said, her voice cold.

Your breath caught in your throat, but she didn’t give you a chance to respond.

“You’re drowning, and you know it,” she continued, her voice rising as she stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “You’re working yourself to death, losing your home, grieving your sister, and still trying to act like you’ve got it all under control. Well, guess what? You don’t. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t stop.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to struggle?” she said, her voice sharp and cutting. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything, to feel like the world is crushing you under its weight? I’ve been there. I’ve lived that. And I’m still living it.”

Her voice softened slightly, but the intensity in her eyes didn’t waver. “This isn’t about pity. It’s about survival. And whether you want to admit it or not, you need this money more than I do.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving as her words sank in. The anger that had been fueling you began to waver, replaced by something else—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t want to face.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you need it.”

The room fell silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, your emotions a tangled mess as you stared down at the envelope on the table.

Finally, you shook your head, grabbing the envelope and shoving it back into your bag. “I don’t… I can’t…”

Sae-byeok didn’t respond, her expression unreadable as she watched you turn and leave the break room.

You didn’t stop walking until you were outside, the cold night air biting at your skin as you leaned against the side of the building. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap of your bag, the weight of the money inside pressing down on you like a physical thing.

You hated her for doing this. You hated her for making you feel small and weak and exposed. But more than that, you hated the part of you that was grateful—grateful for the money, for the gesture, for the fact that, even in her cold and unrelenting way, she cared.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

taglist: @monroesturnns@everly-summers-solace@holyshtimgay@knfthxv@delfinadolphin@madebysae@jetaimeeeee@m0rtifiedg0th@katieschry1@erika-mon2-blog@tcvazq not taking anymore taglist additions!! sorry!!

[leiawritesstories]

Best Dream Ever

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 3: Idiots in Love @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol, ridiculous amounts of fluff

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell is someone knocking on my door at eight p.m.? Aelin grumbled to herself as she reluctantly walked to her front door, wine glass in hand. It had been a heck of a work week, and she was a grown woman who was entitled to her post-work drink. She rose up onto her tiptoes to look through the glass panes near the top of the door and did a double take when she found her neighbor from down the street standing on her porch, looking for all the world like he was about to bolt. 

“Rowan?” She opened the door. “You alright?” 

He ducked into her house, pushed the door closed, and looked frantically out the window, chest heaving like he was afraid for his life. “I am now, I think.” 

She raised a brow. “Look, I know we’re neighbors and friends and all that, but seriously. What the hell?” 

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Ae, I really am. I texted you like fifteen times.” 

“Ah, shit.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and waved it in front of him. “Dead, I’m sorry. Ran out of battery on the way home from work and honestly haven’t wanted to charge it.” 

“Fair enough.” He walked beside her down the hallway to her living room and flopped down on the couch he liked, groaning in relief when his head hit the throw pillows. 

“Long week for you too?” 

He grumbled something incomprehensible and moved the pillow off of his face. “Have you ever had six adult men show up at your door armed with gods-only-know how much booze and zero warning and proceed to set up shop in your house?” 

“Can’t say I have,” she drawled. 

“Wouldn’t recommend.” He raked his hands through his messy, pale hair. “I made the mistake of telling the guys that I got that deal with the MLB team, and they apparently decided that this was their sign to come into town and crash my weekend. Seems like I ‘don’t celebrate right,’ whatever the fuck that means.” 

Aelin hid her smile behind her wine. “Which one of the twins said that?” 

“Fen, of fucking course,” Rowan said dryly. “Who else d’you think could convince all the guys to drop everything and converge on my house for a weekend? We’re not in college anymore, not like he understands that.” 

“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Aelin offered. “For now, though, you know you always have a place here. Just…you don’t need to crash for the night, do you?” 

Pink tinged Rowan’s cheeks, and he slipped his backpack off of his shoulders. “Well, now that you mention it…” 

She laughed and stood up. “You know where the spare room is, Ro. Want a beer or something?” 

“Sounds fuckin’ amazing.” He went down the hall to drop off his bag in her spare room and returned a few minutes later in sweatpants and an old university t-shirt. Gratefully, he took the beer bottle from her hand and tipped half its contents down his throat. “Fuck, that’s good.” 

“It’s from the case of ‘good stuff’ you dumped in my garage three weeks ago,” Aelin said, pairing her words with a poke to his side. “Quit using me as your beer overflow, Whitethorn.” 

“Who else could I trust not to drink it?” he grinned, slinging one arm around her shoulders. “If I let one of the guys keep it at their place, it’d be gone in a day, never mind that it’s a small batch craft brew that needs at least thirty-two hours of chilling before you can really get the tasting notes.” 

“Snob,” she teased, turquoise eyes sparkling with laughter. 

He smirked. “It’s called good taste, Ae, and you—” 

A fist thudded rapidly against Aelin’s front door. 

She looked at Rowan, and he looked back at her, eyes wide. “Please don’t let them in,” he whispered, and he took off down the hall to hide in the spare room. 

“Men,” she sighed. She strolled down the hallway, peered out the window, and cracked open her door just a few inches. “What the hell do you want, Moon Moon?” 

Grinning broadly and probably tipsily, Fenrys tried to lean on her doorframe and stumbled sideways before regaining his balance. “Where’s Rowie?” 

Aelin fixed the blonde man with a flat, unimpressed look. “Ask me in normal-people words, Fenny boy.” 

Fenrys inhaled dramatically. “My dear darling Aelin, have you seen Rowan lately? We came to his place to celebrate him getting the MLB deal, but we’d barely been there for an hour before he said he needed to grab something from the store. Haven’t seen the guy since.” 

“Does this look like the store, Moon Moon?” she deadpanned. 

“Nobody thought he was actually going to the store!” Fen protested. He tried to push open her door, but she clicked her tongue and fixed him with a look that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Fen, you’re a good friend, but this is my first work-free weekend in months, and if I have to miss any more of 10 Things I Hate About You, I will eviscerate you with my work heels. Okay?” 

“Leaving!” he yelped. “Text us if you know where Rowan is, though, yeah?” 

“You’re the ones at his place, you can text him,” she returned. “Goodnight, Moon Moon. Don’t fall off any rooftops again.” 

“It was one time!” he yelled, but she’d already closed the door. 

Aelin went back down to her living room, plopped onto the couch, and grumbled something rather unpleasant about the amount of men who banged on her door at all hours of the day. “Coast is clear, Whitethorn,” she called. 

He came back into the living room a minute later. “Thanks for handling him, Ae.” 

“Anything for a little bit of peace, right?” His huff of a laugh tugged at a thread low in her stomach, but she ignored the odd sensation. “Let me know if you need anything that you can’t find. I’m gonna go upstairs and watch brain-rotting chick flicks until I fall asleep, but you’re more than free to watch one of those docuseries you have such a hard-on for.” 

“Aelin!” Rowan’s face reddened, and he choked out her name in a shocked, strangled cough. “Gods, why’d you have to say it like that?” 

“Because you’re too cute when you’re all flustered, buzzard,” she laughed. “G’night!” She headed upstairs to her bathroom, and after a very long shower and a solid half hour of carefully applying her skincare, she tugged one of her favorite nightgowns over her head and rolled into her bed. She could pick up the faint sounds of water running in the guest bathroom down the hall, and coupled with the soft whir of her ceiling fan, she was soon asleep. 

Only to pop awake not quite three hours later. 

Groaning, she rolled onto her other side and closed her eyes, taking deep steady breaths to try and encourage her restless mind to quiet down. As soon as she managed to quiet her roiling mind, though, her stomach rumbled. 

Traitor. 

Aelin flopped onto her stomach and ignored the growly rumble it emitted in protest, but the more she tried to fall back asleep, the more her body resisted. Finally, in defeat, she muttered a string of curses under her breath and rolled out of bed. She pushed her feet into her slippers, flicked on her bedside lamp, and crept out of her room and down the hall. She took the stairs slowly, because at least half of them creaked loud enough to wake the whole street if stepped on too firmly, but she eventually made it out to the kitchen. The glowing numbers on the oven clock flashed 1:55, taunting her with the ridiculous hour. 

Quietly, Aelin pulled open the pantry door, scanning the shelves quickly and finding nothing that sounded particularly good. She moved over to the fridge and glanced inside, huffing in irritation when she didn’t immediately think of anything quick to grab. After a few minutes, she gave up and opened the freezer, her fingers closing around the pint carton of ice cream tucked into the door shelf. She got a spoon from the drawer and sat down at one of the barstools at the high-top counter, not bothering with a bowl. 

She was only a few bites into the deliciously rich triple chocolate when heavier footsteps creaked on the stairs and a very sleepy, very mussed Rowan half-stumbled into the kitchen. 

His bleary gaze wandered around the kitchen, skipping over her once before snapping back to where she sat with her ice cream. The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he mumbled unintelligibly to himself. “Don’t fall over,” she heard him mumble, and he slid his hand along the countertop to guide his steps as he crossed the kitchen. Straight over to her. 

“Hey, you.” She couldn’t be entirely sure whether he was awake or sleepwalking, so she left her spoon in the carton of ice cream and stood up. “Having a good dream, Ro?” 

“’Bout to get even better.” His arms looped around her waist, and he dipped his head and kissed her. A soft hitched gasp broke from her lips, and she slid one hand up the back of his neck into his messy hair and angled his face so she could kiss him properly. It was a long, drawn-out moment before he pulled back, head tilted back to catch a gulping breath, and his eyes snapped back to hers, clear and aware. “Best dream ever.” 

She blinked slowly. “Ro, are you asleep?” 

“I gotta be.” He passed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “It’s the only time I get to kiss you like this, Ae.” 

“Rowan,” she breathed, heart skipping in her chest. “I…I’m awake.” 

His jaw went slack, and he impulsively grabbed her hand. “Pinch me.” 

“What?” 

“Pinch me, Ae. Gotta know if I’m still dreaming.” Obligingly, she pinched the skin at the crease of his elbow, and he let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak. “Fuck, that—am I awake?” 

“I’d imagine so.” Her eyes traveled slowly downwards, until they landed on their linked hands. “This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came down for midnight ice cream.” Uncertainty clouded his face, and she squeezed his hand. “It’s better.” 

Hope, bright and buoyant, broke free in his grin. “Really?” 

“Really.” She closed the distance between them, rolled up onto her tiptoes to meet his lips. “I think I’ve had this dream before, but it’s better in real life.” And she kissed him.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[ratisangy]

Realities Of RV Living

I feel this needs to be discussed as sadly it may become more of an option for many people as the cost of living increases. I want to provide a realistic look into this life. Unless you are well off with a luxury RV, what you typically see on social media is not even close to reality.

Traveling and Long Term RV Parks

Ask about rates monthly and compare multiple parks. Make sure to ask if the rate is the same all year long. Also, ask if utilities are included. You can save a lot of money by not having to pay electricity. Some parks don't have one of the main hookups, so make sure eletricity, water and septic are all available.

This is only good when you have a new properly functioning RV. When you live in something older and in bad shape, it means a broken part, packing up your entire life, and finding a new park friendly to long-term stay. I've moved 3 times in 2 and a half years.

The first RV park was $750 a month plus electricity ($100 in summer $200 in winter) and had multiple times were we were without power or had no use of our septic. Many of the times without power it was single digits or in the negatives. We got 120 inches of snow and had to make a homemade rv skirt of a tarp and pack the snow like an igloo around the rv to stay warm.

The second RV park was $350 plus electricity ($150 summer). This park was more affordable but had a lot more issues. Our neighbor had frequent septic issues and we often had it leak onto our rv space. We also were next to the septic for the whole park. So basically the smell of shit was ever present. It got to 110 F here and we basically ran the AC until it broke as heat exhaustion always felt right around the corner.

Third park arguably the nicest park is $550 utilities included only catch is $1200 a month in summer months. (No I don't live in a high value area either most of the town and houses are literally abandoned). It's a franchise park and the owner isn't even supposed to offer long term but deals with it for the insane price he gets in summer. I haven't had issues with electricity or other people's sewage here. Basically one good employment place here and my fiancé gets retirement, so that made it worth the move.

Extreme cold

Frozen septic and frozen water lines are a huge and common issue, especially in older, less insulated models. You can put insulation around the pipes and drip water all you want its going to happen if it's cold enough. So get comfortable with the idea of taking warm buckets of water and a rag to your septic pipe and pouring warm water down into your septic. A smell you will never forget ❤️.

Insulating the rv is very important from being almost 3 years in. Here's the best way to avoid hypothermia. Get R-tech insulation board and stuff it into your windows then cover it up with a blanket. Put this behind your pillows as well so heat can stay in the bed area. Find pre-owned carpets and cut them to fit in your rv so the floor remains warmer. Get socks or cozy slippers to wear most of winter. Your floor will most likely never be a comfortable warm and you may be at risk of hypothermia depending on tempature. Dress in layers put on two pants a shirt and a sweater and socks and slippers. If you need to gloves and a hat as well. Put a blanket over your door. Making a rv skirt out of a tarp and super gluing velcro to the tarp and rv can be useful. Use concrete blocks to hold down the ends. Depending on wind speed this can be hard to keep in place though.

As much as this may sound like a joke it's currently saving me. Xbox 360 consoles make ALOT of heat if you run a DVD that replays itself in the background all night it will warm your sleeping area. If I die I will fade out to the Do The Mario theme song I guess 🥲.

Extreme Heat

Just pump up your AC and have alot of ice packs and cold water. This is going to suck and may kill your AC. The smell oh god the smell will make you want to die. Your septic will boil in the heat and make BAD soup. Less things will break on your RV than extreme cold.

Mail

If your RV park doesn't allow you to get mail at the park its going to suck ass. PO Boxes are the most annoying things on earth. UPS and certain FedEx mail will not deliver to them. Most companies will not ship to them. Even if they say they do. You will often get packages shipped all the way to your post office only for them to be rejected and sent back to the seller. The crapiness is exemplified if you live in a very rural area like I do. Just ship to a family member and pay them to ship it to you in a USPS box only!

RV Common Issues

Too high of water pressure

Get a pressure gage/regulator a park with to high of pressure can cause your lines to burst

Electricity Surges

Get a surge protector a bad surge with no protector can permanently fry your eletricial system. The protector saved me on a bad surge that literally set my plug on fire 🔥.

Eletricity Constriants

Older 30 amps don't have much power. Depending on the appliances you may have to choose to use one at a time. Want to use the heater and your Ninja to cook? Well, enjoy tripping your breaker. In fact just get comfortable with your breaker you'll be spending alot of time with it as you figure out what appliances aren't friends.

Septic

You will spend way to much time with your septic. Whether it be unfreezing, unclogging, general emptying or trying to find a product that doesn't harm it but keeps the smell down during hot summers. Get Scott thousand ply tiolet paper or just cheap thin tiolet paper. It's very similar to the rv specific tiolet paper and way less money.

Water

Pex pipes are cool and easy to repair replace your lines with them. With cold your water lines of course have the chance to freeze or burst. Keep them insulated and use the warm water wash cloth method to unfreeze. Just make sure not to leave wash cloths on the pipes for to long or they will also freeze.

Propane

Please please please check your models history with propane if you plan on using it. Some were built with manufacturing issues that cause them to blow up. There's not many left of my model due to this. It also means I have no central heating or use of the oven.

Laundry

If your park has a laundry mat awesome but this not usually the case. Locate your nearest laundry mat and take that into consideration when looking for a park.

[st4rgzer]

NOW PLAYING…

↳ WELCOME TO NEW YORK (1980 TV) MATT STURNIOLO

genre: fluff, with a touch of angst

cw!: cursing, fem pronouns

summary: in which the reader is, half ready, to move to new york after booking her first major gig

a/n: this is the first track and i hope ill release one every weekend, maybe more, thank you for reading!

after 7 years, no, all my life working my ass off, going to every audition I can get my hands on, reading too many scripts a day, I finally got an audition.

And the best thing, it wasn’t because of the triplets! me being friends with them, and dating one, had made it incredibly difficult to make my own image, be my own person, even though I love them, I want people to know me for me, not know me as “matt’s girlfriend” or, “that girl that hangs out with the triplets”.

The only problem about getting a major gig, it’s in New York, and it’s going to be a pretty long time rolling, so I’d have to move there, at least for a year. That means leaving thee triplets at home. Leaving Matt home, and its not like NY is next to LA or Boston, 5 hours on plane. And it´s already difficult when they have leave for LA.

“babe, c’mon, just, come, spend the night here and in the morning we can drive you to the airport” Matt wined, pulling me towards him on the sofa, he had been trying to convince me not to leave early all day, and that they were closer to the airport so they could be the ones to take me there.

“well…maybe…” I sighed, the airport anxiety making me doubt wether or not to stay tonight, well, they are closer to the airport than me…fine, I sleep better with him anyways.

“yes! see i always win” he says lifting his arms up in victory, earning a laugh from me, he may be very persistent but it was sweet to see how he celebrated when he finally won.

He tugged me towards him and I laid my head on his chest, closing my eyes in a moment of peace before I had to worry about the move.

I nearly fell asleep when his hands started caressing my hair and detangling all the knots, slowly putting me in a trance, then I came to the realization that my bags were still in my house, and sighed, taking his hand away from my hair gently and sitting up.

“I just remembered my suitcase is still in my house, we have to go get it before anything” I kneaded my forehead and breathed deep, then I felt Matt’s hand on my back.

“relax ok, I can take us there in a minute, don’t worry about anything, the important things are already being shipped to your flat and the flight leaves at 10 am, enough time to sleep in a bit or have breakfast.” he said stroking my shoulder reassuringly, I grabbed his hand and placed it on mine, sighing as I backed myself against his chest once again, grateful I had an organized boyfriend opposed to the mess I was with this kind of stuff.

We pulled up to my driveway, I fiddled with the keys before finally opening the door. I went up to my room to get my big suitcase, them I realized a staircase and a big suitcase wasn’t a good match for me, I yelled Matt’s name but I saw him already going up the stairs, probably cause he knows me too well.

“thank you” I said with a sly smile. Grabbing the other end of the suitcase to at least help a bit, though he took all the weight.

We got into the car, the sun was setting and the weather was perfect for reminiscing and being nostalgic.

I laid my head against the damp car window , I started to think if this gig was going to be my big break. Even though I’ve wanted to be an actress since I was a young child, I never liked change, I despised it even.

This was going to be a big change, I had the last month to think about it and get used to the idea, but still, the thought of me and Matt breaking up because of long distance…

I felt a hand be placed on my knee, snapping me out of my thoughts, my mouth curved up into a slight smile, I placed his hand in mine, he rubbed small circles on my knuckles, and pulled it closer to him, placing a soft kiss to them.

“I’m so happy for you, do you know that?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me with genuine joy. I tilted me head slightly and pursed my lips together.

“Do you think we’ll- survive the long distance…?” I looked down, guilt lingering in my voice, It was my fault I was moving to NY, I took the job, if the relationship went down the drain…I wouldn’t help to think it was my doing.

“What? That’s stupid, of course we will, Its not like you’re moving to a whole other country, phones exist, planes do as well” He insisted, tilting my head up to meet my line of view.

“trust me, okay? I’m a professional at the whole moving stuff…” He saw I was still unsure.

“baby I wouldn’t care if you moved to a whole other continent, I’d still book the flight every weekend to come see you” He said, gently moving a strand of hair out of my face, he wanted me to look at him, and I did. I half-smiled at him, feeling a bit more sure about the move thanks to his pep talk.

I realized I didn’t recognize where we were heading to, turning confused to Matt as he kept his eyes on the rode.

“Matt, where are we going? As far as I know, your house isn’t in a forest” I shook my head when he didn’t respond, scoffing as I laid back into the carseat.

As we parked in a rocky spot, he got out and went ‘round the car to open my door, what a gentlemen.

“What? are you gonna murder me out here or…?” I laughed as I got out of the vehicle, closing the door behind me. I was shut up as he placed a hand on my cheek, pulling me closer, and planting a sweet kiss onto my lips.

“oh?” I grinned, resting my hands over his shoulders, he grabbed one gently and led me in front of the car.

“ok, so, you know how I decorated my room all foresty?” He finally spoke, turning so he could make eye contact with me, I nodded.

“well, that’s cause the woods, mountains, they help calm me down, ease my anxiety and worries about things. After our first argument I came here, to clear my head. I come here a lot, and…I thought maybe it would help you a little? at least give you some peace of mind for while…”

He said, sweet words spewing from his mouth, I could’ve melted then and there. God, he was thoughtful. I smiled at him so widely, pecking his lips gently, I then peppered his cheeks and forehead with some more, he was right, this WAS giving me peace of mind. There was a slight fog surrounding the trees, and a soft breeze.

“thank you, Matt, this means a lot, like, really” I sighed as he opened his arms and held me, I closed my eyes at the smell of his cologne and the soft fabric of his plaid flannel.

“anything for you, lovely. I just wanted to give you a good afternoon to end with before the exhausting week that awaits you” He said kissing the top of my head and resting his chin there.

Hours passed. We were crossed legged, sat on the ground, watching the sky get darker and darker, contemplating as the stars slowly appeared.

My head was rested on his shoulder, his arm intertwined with mine, and his head laid back on the front of the car. It was simple and sweet, but better than anything I could’ve asked for.

It was silent, the comfort of our company being enough substitute for meaningless conversation. He sighed, contempt, we both knew the night was coming to an end, as I still wanted to get in at least 9 hours of sleep.

“do you think we should go now? its getting a bit late” he said stroking the palm of my hand.

“mhm, it is” I hummed, I gave him one more kiss before getting up and grabbing the makeshift blanket beneath us.

We drove to the car humming songs on the radio, his hands always resting either on my knee, my thigh, or my hand.

As the car pulled into the garage, Nick and Chris’s voices were heard, I think they were screaming something along the lines of “fucking finally”

We both looked at each other and sighed, holding in a laugh as he turned the doorknob, we were greeted with an angry blonde haired boy and a hyperactive Chris.

“where the fuck were you guys?! we wanted to do a going away movie party for tonight!” Nick yelled, he breathed and tried to calm himself, me and Matt were delighted watching the scene unfold.

“I took y/n somewhere.” he smirked slyly at him. Nick scoffed, he wasn’t too mad, after all, they were going to see me just next week.

After some more banter and such, Matt and I headed up to his room. He had his hand intertwined with mine and wasn’t dropping it anytime soon.

“m’lady” he said with a country accent, that always earned a chuckle out of me, opening the door for me, following behind. I sighed, letting myself fall onto the soft sheets of his bed.

He laid down next to me, as routine, I placed my head on his chest, he wrapped his arm languidly around my waist, pulling me close.

“im tired” I yawned and felt the vibrations from his chest as he laughed.

“of course you are, we’ve had a busy day, huh? He said kissing my hair softly, rubbing small shapes on the exposed skin of my waist.

I nodded, closing my eyes, sighing, I grew more tired every heartbeat of his I felt from his chest, the lullaby of his heart clearing my mind.

He felt I drifted off, he kissed the top of my head once again and whispered goodnight.

“I love you.”

“i love you too” I mumbled.

I recounted the previous moments in our day, everything from the starbucks he bought me when picking me up, to watching the sun set in his favorite place, with his favorite person.

Im scared of new beginnings, but New York can’t be so bad, right?

…

‘welcome to New York’ The big sign I was met with read, people were hustling and seemed like they had somewhere to go, I could here sirens blaring and people yelling “taxi!” I smiled. Everyone here wants something more. I guess I maybe could get used to this.

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @hedgehogperalta @iloveneilperry @stvrni0lo @sturniolol @stvrniolo @sturniololoverr @oneirophobic (nicole idk if you wanna be added or not, tell me if you want me to take you off😭) @gaytoadwithapopsicle (same for you)

reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[queenofbaws]

Hello fellow chilly queen!! I’m sorry I’ve been MIA, have been recovering from surgery (wisdom teeth). Doooo you think I could get some jossam, anything of your choice 👀👀👀? I hope you’re doing well and this week was better for you than it was me lol <3

catch me catching up on some prompts! ;)c

She could still hear the party going on. Doors closed, windows shut, the breeze in her ears, and...yeah. Yup. Mhm. That was definitely the bassline of Mike's (questionable) music choices making the hum under her butt. The whole point of slipping out for a little fresh air had been to, well, get away, but even so, Sam had to smile. Shake her head.

As long as everyone was having fun, what was the harm, right?

It was always cold up on the mountain - freezing, more often than not - but tonight, bundled up as she was, the chill barely bothered her. In fact, she shut her eyes, tipped her head back, and took in the deepest, deepest breath she could, filling her lungs with the crisp scent of pine. Not the artificial stuff either, the real deal, baby, roots and all. In her mind's eye, she saw her exhale plume out in front of her, a cloud of her worries pushed out of her and carried up, up, and away to join the ones in the sky, and when she opened her eyes for real, she...

Actually screamed.

"Wow," Josh snorted, deftly rocking to one side to avoid any punches she might've considered throwing. "A 'hello' would've sufficed."

When her fight-or-flight registered he was not, in fact, some crazed mountain man come to chop her into a billion little pieces, Sam fell flat onto her back, pressing her hands to her heart in an attempt to calm it down. "That...was incredibly mean, what you just did."

Because he'd sat himself beside her, she had the perfect vantage point to watch his face contort. No regret, she noted, not even a teeny-tiny sliver. Plenty of self-satisfaction, though. Lots of pretending like he wasn't laughing his ass off, inside his head. "Sitting on my own deck, huh? Punishable offense now, I guess."

"The sneaking, Josh."

"Who said I was sneaking, Sam?"

"Me. I do. The one whose eyes were closed."

"Have you ever considered...not dropping your guard while in a big, scary cabin in the middle of the dark, spooky woods?" He glanced down to meet her eyes, then raised his beer in a silent toast before taking a drink. "The killer always goes for the ones who split off from the rest of the group, Giddings. C'mon, you know this."

"The killer," she began, pushing herself up with her elbows, waving his hand away when he offered to help, "can try. I might not look like it, but I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I've caught on to that," he nodded. For a second she thought he might say something else...but then he simply looked out towards the woods and nodded, taking another drink. "I've caught on."

Her pulse dropped back to its usual resting beat, and so she resumed her earlier position, legs crisscrossed and hands at her sides, her mittened palms flush against the deck itself. She tried not to look at him directly (not right away), instead rolling her eyes at the faint snow-angel she'd left in her panic. Snow-amoeba, really. There hadn't been a lot of snowfall since she'd gone out, only enough to barely dust the deck, but if the clouds on the horizon were any sign, they'd be getting more any minute now.

The song inside the lodge ended. A new one began. Beneath them, a different bassline began to thump. One of the windows rattled in its frame.

"You're not being a very good host," she said after a while, shooting him a sidelong look. Despite the scare he'd given her, she couldn't help smirking when their eyes met. He was good at that, Josh - making her forget things like that, smoothing them over without doing anything at all. It was a dangerous skill to have.

"Or I'm the best host," he argued, "rushing out into the night to make sure all my guests are having a good time."

She heard the unspoken question in it, figured maybe that was what she was good at - cutting through his crap. Another dangerous skill, that, just...in a different direction. "I'm having a good time."

"Mmm. Glad to hear it."

"Yup."

It was funny, really, how well she knew him. Maybe not funny in the laugh-out-loud kind of way, maybe funny more in the whacking-your-elbow kind of way, but funny all the same. In her head, Sam counted one, two, three...and then he turned to her again, keeping his bottle close to his mouth the way he did when he was trying to seem unbothered.

"Let's say, hypothetically of course, that you weren't having a good time. You'd tell me, right?"

She turned to him. Nodded. "I would tell you."

"And if, still entirely hypothetically, someone had said or done something to piss you off to such a degree that you had to flee the party..."

Her eyes rolled so hard that they brought the rest of her body with them. "Josh," she said, scooting so she was fully facing him, "I'm fine. Seriously. Things just got a little loud in there, that's all. A little crazy. I know you don't get this, but sometimes I like to just sit out in nature - " she spread her arms wide, gesturing to the mountain and its snowy trees, the stars above, the shimmering ribbon of aurora in the sky, " - so I can think my thoughts to myself. My quiet thoughts. Just so happens that I've...got a few of those, tonight. That's all."

After another drink, he set his beer down on the deck, copying her so they were facing each other, their postures mirrored. He wasn't wearing mittens, though, so she had to figure his hands were freezing. If they were, he didn't seem to care.

"Anything you want to share with the class?" he asked, and again the word appeared in her head: dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.

What she needed to say was no, that there wasn't anything in particular on her mind, that she'd simply wanted a moment to herself. That would've been the smart thing to do, the safe thing to do, but...well. Those warning sirens in her head, they weren't just for his actions, now, were they?

She sniffed from the cold, giving her nose a numb little wiggle, then did something significantly more dangerous than splitting off from the rest of the group, something more dangerous than sitting with her eyes shut and her guard down in the middle of nowhere, something that, as Josh had pointed out himself, she knew better than to do.

She told him the truth.

"Just thinking about how absolutely furious Hannah and Beth would be if I told them I think I have a crush on their brother," she said, measuring her words carefully, watching his face more carefully still. "Between you and me? I kinda feel like they might eat me alive."

[loverslodge]

I just finished “very discreet” & they are the sweetest little couple! 🥰

Now that all of the Avengers know, what’s their life like at the tower?

Maybe they get pregnant & have to figure out how to tell the team…

They’re all always in their business bc they feel like they missed so much, but The Barneses like to have things just for themselves. 🥰

I’m sure they’d all fight over who will be the favorite aunt/uncle, but of course it’s Stevie, their day 1! ♥️

I don’t know that’s just what I was thinking but of course, whatever your creative mind decides.

Thank You!

love the idea! and this Bucky gif lives in my heart . lets talk about him.

OMG! YES! because obviously Sam and Tony are nosy af! Nat enjoys dragging Doll away to 'girls night' where she and Wanda inquire about your life with Bucky. But you ain't saying shit.

Bucky is so grumpy about this new development. He actually beats Steve to exhaustion one training day because it was his idea to tell the truth and now Bucky is regretting it.

So, Bucky finds a way to have alone time with Doll. He would ask Steve's help to look for a tiny apartment near his place and Doll and Bucky would have some stuff there. They would pretend in front of the Avengers that they are in their room but they would sneak off to their new place for few days of peace and quiet because you like it that way.

Sam actually tried to send Redwing to follow them one day but Bucky caught on to his plan and that day Barneses spent day on the compound.

Tony actually wanted to throw them a 'coming out' party (which he received a smack in the head for) and renamed the party. Steve actually, reluctantly, took over the guest list and party style to make Bucky and Doll feel more comfortable. But Tony is Tony and he ended up making it such a huge deal about it that party turned into PARTY.

Bucky does get irritated about their constant intervention during his date nights with you but its you who calms him down by suggestively sitting on his lap. He knows if he behaves well, he will get rewarded later.

You are actually nervous to talk about wanting children but you still muster the courage and talk to Bucky about it. He gets excited thinking you are actually pregnant but then you calm him down and tell him that it is something you have been thinking about. He likes it. The way you are being so soft and considerate about his feelings.

He agrees to start trying with you but before that you suggest getting yourself and Bucky checked out for health and stuff (obgyn things). You both are happy to learn that you both are healthy and so you both start trying.

Mind you, it is not a secret anymore. everyone in the compound knows y'all trying for a baby. Sam actually brought Bucky a 'health supplement' to make him 'fertile'. Bucky has never thrown a shit out of compound window this hard.

Bucky does not mind Wanda because all she is doing is helping you meditate. But its Nat he's wary of. Nat would hover around you asking you intimate questions for shits and giggles because she likes annoying Bucky. She knows you are never gonna say anything.

Tony keeps on bringing pregnancy tests every weekend to you. Steve had to physically stop Bucky from doing the same thing he did to the supplements.

And when you are finally pregnant!!! omg! the entire compound knows before Bucky. He was out with Steve when Nat and Wanda pestered you into taking the test Tony brought. Sam and Tony were waiting outside the door. Bruce was trying to steer clear but he got roped into this as well (poor guy).

You still go to the secret apartment with Bucky but after the news of pregnancy, you know privacy is going to be hard. So you tell Bucky its ok to stay at the compound. They also threw you a baby shower and argued about who would be the godfather and godmother of your child (or is it children?). Steve is being smug about it because you had already asked him and his wife and he knows whatever you say goes in Barnes household. Wanda came in close second though. And surprisingly, Bucky agreed that Sam would close second too.

All in all, lives of the Barneses is very loud now that everything is out. Wanda tries to help get you privacy sometimes but she is not always successful and same goes with Steve. But in a way, you are happy that so many people love Bucky and his future with you.

[siren-in-the-shadow]

Hello! One of your newer fans (yes, FAN) and... I am curious... This is just a question and you don't have to write something specific for it... How do you think Cazador would act towards an s/o (whom he fell in love with, probably not by choice but the heart is fickle) with like... A very very sweet and kind person. Like... basically the mom-friend type. Not nagging, but also the sort who would quietly just kinda tend to his comfort? Someone who will always talk to him with absolute respect and kindness without needing to be prompted, because they are just... like that™. Someone who is basically very much an acts of service kinda person. The castle is chilly? Suddenly he has a blanket on his shoulders as he's sitting at his desk, doing important stuff™. One of his favourite jackets somehow ended up unravelling at the sleeves? He finds it the next day, fixed. Had a horrible day and he is in a sour mood? He gets a gentle hug, no words needing to be spoken just... quietude and emotional safety.

Hiii !

Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?💕

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words—it truly means a lot to me that you’d call yourself a fan 🥹 

I’m so grateful for your support, and it makes me so happy to know my writing has resonated with you 🥰

I think Cazador being with someone kind and nurturing would be fascinating. At first, he’d likely be skeptical or even unnerved by their kindness since it’s so unlike what he’s used to! But over time, I imagine he’d reluctantly come to cherish their acts of service, even if he struggled to show it….you know one day he’d end up adoring it slyly

Its always easier for me to write when someone wants something specific, my original stories are taking time because I have so many thoughts on the plot…amongst other things lol 

I've written you a little moment ! Enjoy :) 

Cazador X Sweet Reader !

The castle was silent, save for the faint scratching of Cazador’s quill against parchment. He sat at his desk in his dimly lit study, the only illumination coming from a few flickering candelabras on the table. 

The night outside was cold, the frost on the windows thick enough to distort the view of the darkened city below. Despite the fire crackling in the hearth behind him, there was a distinct chill in the room—one he stubbornly ignored. 

The door creaked open softly, and he didn’t bother looking up- knowing exactly who it would be. 

"I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to be disturbed," he said, his voice sharp, yet unconsciously quieter than how he'd speak to anyone else.

"I know," her voice answered, warm and soft as honey.

He paused, the tip of his quill hovering above the parchment. He didn’t turn, though his posture stiffened slightly as she approached. He heard the soft rustle of fabric and the faintest of footsteps, and then—without a word—a thick, velvety blanket was draped across his shoulders.

His first instinct was to shrug it off, to lash out at the presumptuous act, but her fingers lingered lightly on the edge of the fabric, grounding him. He waited to see if there was more she was there for.

"You’ve been working for hours," she said gently while brushing a strand of his hair softly. "It’s cold tonight."

The warmth of the blanket was almost immediate, but the touch of her kindness burned brighter. Another unsettling thought he knew he’d one day have to acknowledge. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, gripping the quill tighter to steady himself.

"I didn’t ask for this," he muttered, the edge in his tone softer than he intended.

"I know," she replied, with no trace of offense or hesitation. "But you deserve it anyway." She softly rubbed his arm before her hands slipped away, leaving only the weight of the blanket and her words behind. 

He finally turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of her retreating figure as she headed toward the door.

She paused there, glancing back at him with a gentle smile. "Goodnight, Cazador."

For a long moment, he stared at the door after it closed, the quiet of the study feeling heavier now.

His fingers brushed the edge of the blanket, where her soft hand once was. It wasn’t just the warmth he noticed—it was the faint, calming scent of vanilla woven into the fabric, a detail he knew she must have added just for him.

He let out a slow breath and turned back to his work. The words before him blurred, the image of her smile lingering in his mind like an echo he couldn’t shake. Frustrated, he slammed the quill down, the sound sharp in the quiet room. His hands clenched into fists, the tension in his fingers a reflection of the turmoil inside him. 

Though he didn’t say it aloud—he didn’t dare—he couldn’t deny the truth of it: for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the cold didn’t feel so suffocating. 

“Damn her,” he muttered, his voice low and venomous, though it faltered at the edges. “Damn her for this... for me.”

Yet even as the words left his lips, his fingers strayed to the edge of the blanket, tracing its soft fabric. The gesture betrayed him—lingering, hesitant, as if seeking comfort he could not name.

_________________________________________________________

siren xo

[aristotlecoyote]

Oh that's awesome, I was thinking something with pedro pascal x ftm reader where reader is also in media (any form of it you like) and pedro sees reader playing/holding one of his friends baby, he had always thought of starting a family but held back not knowing reader's reaction but he brings it up and reader reacts to it positively but is nervous. (And then if you want you can have like little time skips to show the progress and then they have the kid/s) you can totally ignore this if it made you uncomfortable or if you don't feel like writing it :)

-🦝(also can I be this anon if it's not already taken)

Here you go Raccoonon!

Pedro and baby make three Warnings: Pregnancy, children It was an uneventful interview. The questions were on topic. The interviewer was nice but she had her kid with her. You had never been that good with children but the little tot was fussing in their parent's arms so much that you offered to hold them. You knew this person well enough, you met them at every con, every red carpet, every event, they were there with their hard hitting questions.

“They have always been fussy.” The interviewer said handing the child to you with gentle hands. “Ever sine they were born.”

You chuckled as the kid started to settle on your lap. Playing with your necklace and microphone as they babbled through the questions with you.

“Quite the talker! Do you interview them at home?” You asked “Oh wait sorry. You are asking the questions here.”

The two of you laughed. The next question confused you but the little guy was quick to answer. You bounced them up and down on your knee, let them hold your finger as you tried to come up with something that didnt let any spoilers through the cracks.

But other then that, the interview went off without a hitch.

You stepped off the little set piece and through a door to your loving boyfriend, Pedro. He had been watching through a tiny window in the door and it looked like he was almost about to cry.

“What's wrong, babe?” You tilt your head to the side and watch him melt as he pulls you close.

“Nothing, just thinking about some stuff”

The “stuff” wasnt brought up until the two of you were safe at home. Away from the cameras, away from the questions.

“Have you...” Pedro turned away from you for a second, his face flushing. “Have you ever thought of having a kid?”

You are taken a back by the question. You hadn't but that was mostly because of you dysphoria clouding your view as you got into the spot light.

“Well, no I haven't” You hesitate “Why?”

Pedro shifted, he took your hand and squeezed “I was just watching that interview and you looked so happy entertaining that little guy. I just started thinking... Would you like to have a kid some day?”

“With you?” You asked. It earned you a nod as his brown eyes turn back to look into yours. “I think I would love a little Pedro running around.”

After that night, you and pedro tried and tried for a baby. You talked to doctors about safely going off your hormones and taking different ones that would help you concieve.

It took a few years but eventually you were hunched over the bathroom sink with two cups with pregnancy tests turn into them. You waited. You stared with bated breath hoping that maybe this time it would come back positive. Pedro was off on a shoot. You had taken time off from filming so the stress wouldn't hurt your chances but the stress of so many failed tests didn't seem to help either.

You buried your head in your hands as the timer clicked down. What if it was negative again? Its been two years, maybe you should just give up on the dream of having a child with Pedro because you couldn't handle the sad look in his eyes again.

Bling Bling Bling

Swiping the timer off, you take the first test out of its cup and shook the liquid off. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then turned it over and opened your eyes.

Positive!

In a rush of excitement you take the other one out. Its positive too.

“Ah. Oh my god!” You cheer into the empty apartment.

You wash your hands then dial Pedro for a video call.

He answers after a few rings. His tone soft as he tried to get the camera on his face. “Hey babe. We are kind of in the middle of a— Is that?”

All he could see the was positive test. He cheered “ARE YOU SERIOUS!”

He got shushed by everyone on the set. Pedro mouthed “Sorry” then rushed to leave the soundstage

“ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” he repeated.

“Yes! We're having a baby!”

[vlad-theimplier]

WIP Wednesday: Custos Custodium

This week, the Neuromancer influences get dialed up (briefly) as Jensen visits the Red Light district. Then it gets kind of Warhammer 40K: I had to resist having Allison say, "From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me," and so forth. Attain the strength and certainty of steel for yourself here.

The holographic crimson strippers lining the cobbled streets made for a lurid welcoming committee to the Red Light District. They gyrated obscenely in mid-air, some dancing without props, some working an insubstantial pole, beckoning and blowing kisses as their sensors picked up passers-by. Jensen sniffed. Tourist stuff, and to someone who’d seen the holo setup underneath Picus’ Montreal headquarters, little better than a low-res Playboy pinup downloaded one pixel at a time over shrieking nineties dial-up.

The Red Queen dominated the District’s central plaza, its décor a panoply of playing cards. Real women and men twirled and beckoned in the second-floor windows. One twitched her curtains closed as he watched, a moment after he saw the door behind her emit a sliver of light. He bypassed it and made a beeline for the comparatively tame signage of the Irish Stool.

Inside, it was blessedly quiet, the thumping bass of the clubs muted by thick glass windows. The patrons here knew what they liked, and what they liked was a beer and a bit of elbow room. Authentic indeed. He’d have to come by some time when he wasn’t working a case. Idly, he wondered whether they shipped in a morose fiddler, too, to complete the ambiance, then spotted a stool and a mic stand in the corner. He must have missed live music night. And maybe Stanek, too—no sign of him on the ground floor. He headed downstairs.

The cavernous basement area was even quieter. Jensen looked around and spotted Stanek at once, nursing a pint at a two-top. Montañez slouched at the table nearest the stairs, ass hooked on the edge of a seat, and Riley sketched a salute from the bar itself. Jensen nodded to him and bumped elbows with Montañez as he strolled past. Riley was pretending to drink something red. Jensen appropriated it ruthlessly and plopped down at Stanek’s table.

The watchmaker’s face brightened as he sat, then closed, then grew curious. “Na někoho čekám,” he said. “I’m expecting someone… Wait a minute. I know you. You’ve been in my shop. What’s going on?”

“You have some things to answer for, Mister Stanek. We have evidence linking you and your shop to the train station bombing.”

“Bombing…? No! I would never—I wouldn’t even know where to start! You have the wrong man. And I don’t have a staff. It’s only a small shop, you know that, don’t you, Mister… Jensen, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. Think, Mister Stanek. Is there anyone else who would have access to your shop? Or your tools, or components?”

Stanek shook his head slowly. “No… no, there is only me and my—” He cut himself off abruptly.

“Your daughter?”

“No! No, not—” Creeping horror gave way to determination on his square face, his eyebrows meeting over his nose and his jaw setting. “Look, take me in. I am the one you are looking for. I—I have made bombs for them.”

“Uh-huh.”

“They tricked me!” Stanek improvised, transparently. “They had me make the timers, but they never told me what they were for!”

“I don’t think so. Protecting your daughter is admirable, Mister Stanek. But you’re not doing her any good by taking the blame. You need to tell me what you know. That’s the only way to help her.”

Stanek held out for another moment, then sighed heavily and took a drink. “You are right, I know. Allison was in the military. She always wanted to belong, to be part of something greater than herself. She was such a beautiful child. Gifted.” He paused in reminiscence.

“What happened?” Jensen prompted.

“After the Incident, she met… some people. They said they were her friends, but I could see they only wanted to use her. Parasites!” he snarled abruptly. “And now—now they have taken her. You must help! She is not to blame for this. She has been coerced!”

“Calm down. I hear you. What do you mean, they’ve taken her?”

“I invited her here tonight, to try to make her see reason. But one of them came by instead, spewing curses about ‘Fleshers’ and ‘Naturals.’ He—he gave me a message from her. She was saying goodbye,” he said, in a very small voice. Then he shook himself. “But she would never leave me all alone! They used her, and now they intend to make her disappear!”

“Who are they, these people?”

“Eh, I don’t know, other than they were Augmented. Not like you, though—zealots. Fire in their eyes. They kept talking about ‘the Ascension,’ whatever that is.”

Definitely Machine Cultists. They had a church in Překážka. He could start there. “Does Allison have the expertise to do something like this?”

Stanek hung his head. “Much more than I do. In the military, she was with Pyrotechnici, eh, bomb… people.”

“Bomb squad? Explosive Ordnance Disposal?”

“Yes, yes. She was happy there. They rebuilt her, after the accident. Rebuilt her to make her better at what she did. But when the Incident happened, she was sent away, dismissed without honor. She was lost.”

“And these friends found her.”

“Bah! They exploited her, and now they plan to discard her.”

Jensen drained his glass and stood, signaling the other agents. “Thank you, Mister Stanek. I’m afraid I have bad news. Your apartment was trapped by the Dvali. Did you owe them protection money?”

“Who, Radich? Mister Nikoladze? No, no—I make him watches, for a discount. After what happened to Allison, Radich knew I needed money. And I think he liked to have the exclusive arrangement. He likes to control things, people. But if someone made him a better offer… Friendship means nothing to a thug.”

“I see. Well, you’ll have to go with these agents for now. For your own protection, and they’ll have some more questions for you.” Montañez and Riley sidled up.

Stanek looked around wildly. “No! I have to go—I have to help her! She’s all I have!” The agents put their hands on his shoulders, though, and he wilted. As they led him away up the stairs, he implored Jensen in a fierce and desperate undertone, “Find my daughter, or I will!”

Jensen paid Stanek’s tab. He figured it was the least he could do.

[love-and-greta]

Namaste

I’m not completely sold on this one shot, but hopefully you all enjoy it! Also, can I just say I am so freaking excited for this new album era?? It’s giving me inspiration to write some new stuff!

Summary: y/n and Josh desperately want some much needed alone time

Warnings: none, just fluff (per usual)

Much love!

____________________________________________

It wasn’t often lately that you got a full day together with Josh. The band was right in the middle of recording their fourth album, and between studio time, song writing, and creating album concepts, you and Josh barely had any one on one time.

However, today was a different story. Josh somehow landed an entire day off and the two of you were ecstatic. Knowing Josh was exhausted from working so hard and so often, you planned on spending the day at home watching movies or relaxing outside in the garden and ending the day with a date night out at your favorite restaurant. For all you cared, you two could just stay in bed all day and you would be happy. Just to be in his company was more than enough for you. But Josh had made it very clear that he wanted to treat you to a nice evening out, especially since date nights were a rarity these days.

“Birdie, you’ve been so patient and supportive of me this past month and I don’t know what I would do without you. Let me take you out and show you how much I appreciate you baby,” Josh had pleaded. You could never resist him and had quickly agreed.

You decided to start the day off early, getting your morning mediation and yoga done with while letting Josh sleep in. The quiet and stillness of the early morning was extremely cathartic for you and you didn’t want to miss out on today’s sunrise. Mediation and yoga had been your saving grace this past month while missing Josh. It helped to calm your mind and keep your soul at peace.

As the sun began its ascent into the sky, its rays warming your skin through your living room window, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. During your exhale, there was a shift on your yoga mat from behind and you felt two arms slowly snaking their way around your waist. You smiled to yourself knowing Josh had decided to join you. He straddled his legs around you and began kissing up your neck to your jawline.

“Good morning to you too J,” you giggled softly, leaning into him.

“Mmm, morning babe,” he murmured against your cheek. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed so I had to come see what you were doing.”

“Oh you know, I’m just getting my zen on,” you joked, making Josh chuckle into your neck.

Just then, Josh’s phone began to ring from the bedroom.

“Who’s calling you this early?“ you asked.

“The only person who would call at this time is Jake, or management. Lemme go check, and you can finish getting your zen on,” Josh replied with a smirk and a quick peck to your lips.

Definitely not in the zone anymore now that your mind was on Josh, you decided to step outside into the backyard and fill your lungs with the crisp morning air. The birds had begun chirping and you could see the bees and butterflies starting to flutter around your garden beds. This truly was your favorite time of day. The start of a new day, a new beginning. Josh was a night owl, but he always made sure to wake up early with you on occasion to share moments like these with you, knowing how much you loved them.

The sliding glass door slowly sliding open pulled you out of your revelry and you turned to see a grief stricken Josh.

“Is everything okay, J?” You asked hesitantly.

“Apparently management decided to schedule a meeting today with that artist I was telling you about for the album cover…I’m so sorry Birdie,” Josh spoke quietly, his eyes becoming glassy.

“Oh…”, was all you could manage to say back.

“And dumbass Jake decided he wanted to continue recording since we would all be at the studio anyways,” Josh huffed, steadily growing angrier. “All I wanted was to spend time with you, uninterrupted, and they can’t fucking even give me that.” He aggressively wiped at his eyes knowing tears were threatening to fall.

Seeing Josh in distress quickly brought tears to your own eyes and you hurried over to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Your disappointment in the situation left you speechless and Josh kept repeating how sorry he was that this had happened. You both knew it would be a while before you had the chance to have a full day together again. The two of you clung on to each other, patiently awaiting for each other to steady your breathing and dry your tears.

Eventually you pulled back to look into Josh’s eyes. “This fucking sucks, but I’m going to be the bigger person and say that I understand and that it’s going to be okay,” you finally announced. Staring back at you, Josh held up one finger to signal you to give him a second. He pulled out his phone, rapidly bringing it to his ear.

“I’m not coming in until 10 this morning. I have a prior engagement that I’m not willing to miss,” Josh quickly spoke and hung up the phone. “Alright Birdie, we have two and a half hours and I’m not breaking my promise to take you out on a proper date. Only this time it will be for breakfast.”

Josh flashed you a wide grin and hastily pulled you in for a deep kiss. You smiled into his lips and thanked the universe for this quick turn of events. Josh began pulling you in closer, one hand around your waist and the other tangling itself into your hair. Knowing things usually progressed quickly from this point, you pulled away slightly and asked, “Are you taking me to bed, or out to breakfast?”

“How about both?” Josh grinned, beginning to walk you backwards into the house.

“I think we could manage that,” you quipped, in between kisses.

“God I fucking love you,” Josh sighed, finally reaching the bedroom.

Oh it was going to be a good morning indeed.