#jaws is out here struggling fr

[inkblot-inc]

Jaws learning all about brewing tea because Wanda loves tea and she can taste when it’s brewed too long or the water was too hot. Who knew some dried leaves need so much? Definitely not Jaws.

"What do you mean the water can be TOO HOT?-"

See, Jaws has definitely been to tea shops with Wanda before and all the technical stuff is harder for them to grasp really, but they try to for Wanda.

Jaws has good sense when it comes to flavor profiles, ironically enough, so Wanda usually lets them choose what flavors they pick up.

Brewing tea is frustratingly involved apparently.

[itneverendshere]

pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much. 

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth. 

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink. 

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. 

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you��just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment. 

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

[shaunamilfman]

to be felled by you

pairing: shauna shipman x reader summary: What started out as a fistfight in the middle of the woods might actually manage to bring you together as you work out your differences in a more pleasurable way. note: smut but theres like fr descriptions of violence before it

“Shauna,” you snapped, jerking your arm away from her grasp as she dragged you off into the trees. You follow a step behind her as you let her lead you away, already having half an idea what this was about. If she wanted to do this, you sure as hell weren’t going to stop her. 

Shauna finally whirls around, turning to face you quickly enough that you stumble into her. You can feel both of her hands on your shoulders before she sends you stumbling backward. You hit the ground with a surprised grunt, staring up at the stars as you try to figure out how you got here. You press up with your elbows as you look up at her, slowly sitting up as Shauna glares down at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You huff, slowly making your way to your feet as you keep your eyes focused on her. You knew she was angry, and when Shauna was angry she made it everyone else’s problem. This was going to get explosive.

The two of you are locked in a standoff as you glare at each other from a few feet away. You brush the dirt off of your elbows, disgruntled and more than a little confused. You’re still not entirely sure what this is even about, but you weren’t in the best of moods to begin with. 

Hitting the dirt certainly didn’t help.

Shauna’s eyes were intense and cruel, her jaw clenched in a way that told you she was seething. Her hands were clenched tight, a slight tremble to them as she struggles to get ahold of her temper. You try to keep yourself calm, but you’re starting to realize that’s just as much of a losing battle for you as it clearly is for her.

“Is this about earlier, Shauna?” you ask, slow and cautious. “We can still talk about it. We don’t have to do this.”

You’re not sure if you could keep that promise, but it’s even more unlikely that Shauna would even go for it. It made you feel slightly better to offer it, anyway. Shauna didn’t want a calm, rational conversation, you knew. She didn’t want to talk it out with you, she just wanted to hit you. She needed the fight.

She scoffs, a bitter smile telling you what she thinks of that idea. “You always do this,” she accuses. “Acting like just talking can fix everything.” 

“What do you want, Shauna? A fight? Fine.”

“You followed me all the way out here,” she accuses. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know what it was about.”

Shauna clenches her fists, her knuckles turning white as she shifts just enough that you start to raise your guard. You slowly mirror her, muscles tense and ready as you watch her face. She’s always been so expressive, her face showing every little thought that runs through her head. It’s a wonder it doesn’t get her in trouble more, as you can tell from the set of her jaw exactly when she’s made her mind up about swinging on you.

She swings at you with a wild punch that just misses as you take a reflexive step back. Her knuckle just barely grazes your jaw, leaving her slightly off balance as you retaliate with a shove. Shauna grunts as her back hits the tree, the impact sending a shock through her body as her eyes widen. 

You watch her as she catches her breath, a wild look in her eyes as you raise your arms defensively. With a snarl she pushes off the tree, on you again in a heartbeat. You just barely manage to sidestep, scraping your arm up something fierce on the tree for your efforts as you grab her arm and twist it behind her back. 

The sound she makes is barely human, filled with rage and sending shivers down your spine. Her back is pressed flush against you for a moment, the two of you frozen in a twisted sort of embrace before she kicks back at your shin. It lands with a painful thud, nearly taking your breath away with the sudden sharp pain as you have to resist the urge to grab at your leg.

Her elbow finds your ribs, forcing you to step back as the simple act of breathing becomes painful. You lash out, landing a desperate blow against the side of her face as you create some distance to catch your breath.

Damn, could she throw a punch. Not that you ever doubted it.

Her hand slowly reaches up to her face, her eyes narrowing as her fingers come away slick with blood. Shauna looks dangerous, almost feral, as she slowly cocks her head to the side to study you. She takes a step forward, grinning as you take a step back. Her blood is dripping down into her teeth, turning the look into something nightmarish as she advances.

Springing forward out of the blue, she takes the both of you to the floor in a mess of limbs and flailing punches. Anger fuels you, overriding any hesitations you have about rolling around with her in the dirt.

You manage to pin her for a moment, your forearm pressed against her throat as she glares up at you. Her teeth snap as she tries to bite at your outstretched arm, a move that didn’t much surprise you considering just who you had beneath you.

“Is this what you wanted, Shauna?” you hissed, pressing down just lightly enough to avoid actually choking her. Her eyes flicker with something other than rage for just a second before she manages to throw you off balance with a sudden buck of her hips. 

The smell of the earth and leaves fills your nostrils, the sound of cracking sticks punctuating the air as the two of you roll through the underbrush. You cry out as she finally lands a hit, turning your head with the force of it as your vision spins. 

For a while, all you know is rage, consumed with the need to hurt her more than she hurt you. It's clear she feels the same, that her anger is the only thing holding her up as you punch her wherever is closest. 

You get a few hits to her face, more slaps than anything with how much you struggle to get any real distance to swing, before she yanks at your hair. It stings more than you thought it would, sparing only a passing thought to how fucking petty hair-pulling is before you reach up and start bending her finger away.

She lets go quickly, a muffled yelp leaving her mouth at the threat of you actually doing serious damage to her finger otherwise. You take her distraction for what it is, finally managing to get enough leverage to get up on your knees above her as you pin her wrists above her head. Breathing heavily, you look down at her, her body still twisting and thrashing as she tries to get you off of her.

Shauna’s panting heavily, the rise and fall of her chest a distracting motion that you force yourself to turn away from as you finally get a real look at her. Her hair looks messy, tangled with leaves and the remnants of broken sticks from the forest floor. Her face isn’t much better, smeared with dirt and blood as it trickles slowly down her face from her nose. 

The sight of her, bruised and battered, is more distracting than you’d anticipated. It's intoxicating having Shauna underneath you like this, pinned and unable to do anything about it. 

She's thrashing beneath you, more like a wild animal than you'd ever seen her. You're sure that she could get you back off of her if she tried hard enough, so it has to be somewhat of a deliberate choice. 

Her face is flushed with anger, and something else that you can’t quite name. There’s a flicker of something else in her eyes, just long enough for it to catch your attention.

Her face, betraying her once again. She struggles beneath you; her face just inches from yours, giving you an up close look as your heavy breaths mingle together. Your grip on her wrists loosens just the slightest as you lean closer and closer. Shauna falters as your warm breath reaches her lips, searching your face for some kind of understanding. 

You wonder if she's going to kiss you or kill you. 

You almost pull away as she leans forward, afraid she's just going to bite you. And she does, hard. But not nearly as hard as she can, not hard enough to break the skin. 

She holds your lip between her teeth, just long enough for you to understand the threat of it before she soothes it with her tongue. 

The line slowly starts to blur between you, and before you know it you’ve both leaned in. The kiss was another battle within itself, all teeth and tongues and raw anger as you fight for control. Hands that were once weapons are now used as tools, both of you intending to make the other break first. The urgency that underlies your fight has shifted, a new desire taking its place.

You're not sure what's wrong with you, why you'd kiss a girl that was just trying to hurt you. But you can't pull yourself away. 

Won't even try to. 

She’s possessive, claiming every inch of you for herself. She finally slips out of your hands, making you readjust your position as she starts feeling you up. There’s nothing gentle about her touch, all passion and hunger that borders on obsession. Shauna wants to devour you, and you’re not about to put up a fight.

The rough feeling of the forest floor beneath your knees grounds you, something painfully sharp digging into your knee and keeping you solely in the moment even as your head spins.

Shauna’s hands make their way back into your hair, not to injure, but instead to draw you closer as you slip your cold hands up Shauna’s shirt. You break apart for air, both gasping heavily once again, but this time her eyes were dark with lust instead of just anger. You come together again without a word exchanged, fight forgotten as you press tightly against each other.

The taste of blood and dirt mixes with the intensity of the kiss, but you can’t bring yourself to deny yourself for even a moment. Shauna’s hands roam your back, her fingers digging in just enough to leave marks, a physical reminder of what’s gone down. You break away with a cry of pain as she drags her nails down your back, a look of possessive glee on her face as you rest your forehead against hers.

“Watch those,” you mutter, truly not that put out about it. 

Shauna shrugs, moving her lips to your jaw in lieu of an apology. She trails hot kisses down your neck, insistent as she rolls her hips up against yours. Her teeth dig in just enough to leave a mark, leaving a trail of bruises that will be hell to hide. Shauna’s hands tangle in your hair as she tilts your head back, exposing more skin to mark up. 

Your hands roam her body with a desperation you’d never admit to, needing to memorize every curve and dip of her body. The fight has completely melted away, replaced with a need to be close, to feel her body against yours. You capture her lips again, slower this time, wanting to savor the taste of her. You can feel every inch of her against you, her shirt riding up with your hands.

The kiss is every bit as intense without the underlying anger. Shauna’s hands move to cup your face, brushing the dirt away from your cheeks as she arches up against you.

You pull away with a laugh, amused despite yourself at her impatience. The sight of her face doesn’t help much, the blood on her face now utterly unflattering now that it’s been smeared everywhere. You’re sure you look about the same as Shauna’s lips twitch in turn. 

She lets out a frustrated sigh as she glares, her head dropping back against the ground in irritation. Her eyes follow the movement of your lips, not at all appreciating the separation. She’s annoyed that you aren’t kissing her still, finally sitting up as she shrugs off her flannel. You bat her hands away as she reaches for the hem of her shirt, wanting to take it off yourself as you slowly expose the sweat-slicked skin beneath.

Shauna’s eyes follow your hands as they slowly skim her sides, feeling the curves of her torso. Her skin was warm and smooth, muscles toned from years of soccer. She lets out a ragged breath as you reach higher, the heat of her skin searing into your palms even through her bra as you cup her chest. Her eyes flutter shut as she leans into your hands, allowing you to stare unashamedly at her as she responds to your touch.

Her hands roam your back, impatient as she tugs at the fabric of your shirt. You raise your arms reluctantly, pulling away from her skin to let her pull it over your head.

It’s like she can’t get it off quick enough, almost yanking it over your shoulders in her haste to see you. She immediately narrows in on the bruise she left forming your ribs, running her fingertips lightly over it. You quickly redirect her attention as you start to lay her back down, not wanting her to get any ideas about applying pressure to it.

You hit the ground with a huff as she reverses your position, suddenly smug as she looks down at you. Her triumphant expression is infuriating, her eyes glinting with a mixture of victory and amusement. You shift uncomfortably, sitting up to brush away the rock digging into your skin that you're sure she took great care to flip you on top of. Her thighs hug one of yours, the warmth and pressure a constant reminder of her as your hands settle on her hips. 

She's got a lazy smile on her face that you know promises trouble, opening her mouth to say something you're sure is appropriately cutting before you decide to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

Shauna lets out a surprised squeak as you bite her for once, blushing so hard you can feel it against your face as you worry the skin of her neck between your teeth. A deep, shuddery breath marks the action, her hand coming up to hold you against her skin rather than push you away. Her grip is firm, possessive, a clear sign that she doesn’t want you to stop.

You can feel how excited it’s made her, her pulse thrumming beneath your teeth as you let go. She inhales sharply as you run your tongue along the length of the mark before soothing it with kisses as her fingers tighten in your hair. Her lazy smile has been wiped from her face, replaced with a look of intense desire almost bordering on awe.

There’s a deep, painful looking bruise on her neck that makes her thighs squeeze around yours as she presses her fingers against it. There would be no hiding that one, which you're sure is part of the appeal. What you wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall as she tries to explain that to Jackie Taylor. 

“Is this what you wanted, Shauna?” You repeat, your voice tinged with a mixture of desire and a lingering defiance. 

Once again, she doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she pulls you into another kiss before trailing her way down to your shoulder. Her teeth scrape over your shoulder before she bites you again; not too hard, just enough for it to show. She makes sure you can feel her there, her arms resting over your shoulders as she holds you in place, her breath hot against your skin.

You rest your hands on her hips, slowly, deliberately, rocking her onto your thigh in a move she's eager to assist with. Her body moves in sync with yours, creating an intoxicating rhythm as she rides your thigh. She kisses the mark she's left, her tongue flicking out to soothe the skin before lightly nibbling at it.

Her hands splay out against your back, fingers spread wide as they flex into your skin. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure through you both, her forehead resting against your shoulder as she moves against you. Her breath comes out in quick, shallow bursts as you drag her down harder against your thigh. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “This is what I wanted.” Her skin is slick with sweat, her muscles flexing and relaxing beneath your touch. She pauses as you pull away, taking a moment to admire the bruise forming on your skin. A little shiver of delight goes through her, a sigh following it as you’re finally out of biting range.

She starts to follow you down before reconsidering as you tug her hips forward. There’s a curious look on her face as she scoots up, her eyes widening suddenly as she realizes what you want. Her hands play at the button of her jeans before quickly agreeing, almost falling over herself in her eagerness to get out of them.

Shauna presses her hands against your chest, swinging one leg over your torso in one fluid motion as she straddles you. You gasp at the feeling of her bare against your stomach, your hands grabbing instinctively at her thighs as she rolls her hips against you. Her knees dig into your sides, a purposeful squeeze that has you short for breath.

She slowly made her way up your chest, guaranteeing she had your attention as she positioned herself. Her thighs framed your face, raising up to let you reposition yourself as she stares down at you. You squeeze her skin beneath your fingers, your thumb pressing into the muscles of her thighs appreciatively.

Your hands tighten around her thighs as she lowers herself to your face. She sighs at the first tentative touch of your tongue, groaning as you dig your fingertips in to drag her closer. The pressure of her thighs against your shoulders has you sighing against her skin, lapping at her eagerly the second she gets in reach.

Shauna gasps as your tongue delves deep inside her, making her squirm as you circle her entrance. You keep up the pace, slow and measured as you drive her wild. Her back arches as she tries to hold back the moan, quickly overwhelmed by your attention.

You think you could get addicted to this: the taste of her, the little sounds that leave her mouth, the way her muscles tremble as she struggles to keep still, the way her fingers bury themselves in your hair as her back arches. She’s so wet against your mouth, you can already feel her dripping down your face.

Shauna blushes at the wet slurping noises as you eat her out, her thighs trembling as your tongue dances around her sensitive spots.

“Fuck,” she whispers. You’re ruthlessly attentive, hands gripping her tightly to hold her in place as you devour her. You finally let go of her, only to slap her hands away as she tries to slip her hand between her thighs.

The sight of her, flushed and desperate as you look up at her from between her thighs, has you moaning into her. Her hips jerk and the sensation of your tongue brushing against her clit has her gasping, instinctively rolling her hips before she catches herself. Her nails dig into your scalp, her thighs tightening around your head as she tilts her hips up in a silent plea for more.

You tease her clit with quick, deft flicks of your tongue. Her back arches as she moans, her grip on your hair becoming painful as you taste her. She tentatively rocks her hips forward, quickly making her own rhythm at your lack of protests. 

You let her control the pace, let her dig her nails into your scalp as her body tenses. She’s achingly beautiful above you, flushed and desperate.

The sound of her need mixes with her ragged breath, a soft whine leaving her lips as she becomes more erratic. Shauna’s so close you can feel it, her body quivering as she starts to reach the edge. 

You can’t help but delight in her loss of control, the way she bites her lip to stop from crying out, the way her hands drop from your hair as you drive her wild.

She pulls your fingers away from her skin as she laces your fingers together, holding onto your hands for purchase as her hips move with your mouth. She cries out your name as she comes, her whole body shuddering as her hips stutter out her release.

Shauna collapses back on your chest, your hands pulling away from hers to support her thighs as the weight of her starts to become too much. Her thighs are still trembling as she pulls away, settling on her knees next to you as you sit up.

Her eyes are laser focused on your face, biting at her lip as she wipes her thumb across your lower face. It comes away wet, a mixture of your blood and her arousal that she slowly licks away. She leans down, sharing the taste between you as she captures your lips again.

“Please,” you mumble against her lips, holding her face ever so gently between your hands. You want more, or you want her. It's all the same thing, really. 

… 

“I’m sorry,” you say after a while, turning your head to look at her.

She turns to give you a confused look, her lips quirking into a smile. 

“I didn’t realize you liked Jackie when I was talking her up earlier.”

Shauna snorts, face turning red, before burning her face into your shoulder as she shakes with laughter. 

“You’re so stupid,” she chokes out, slapping lightly at your chest as she wheezes from how hard she’s laughing.

“What?”

“It was you, idiot.”

Oh. Oh.

“Well–”

[heyitstam]

dr. robert chase x reader - the chase itself (smut)

hi guys :D i know i haven't posted in a while, but i recently asked a VERY good friend of mine to cook me a fanfic of this very beautiful man, and HE DELIVERED. like all out jaws on the floor type delivered. i love this man fr, so i'm posting it here with his permission. it's his first fanfic ever, and in my humble professional opinion he overdelivered - so have fun reading this beautiful smut fic of reader and dr. chase <3

I. Humble Beginnings

Taking place in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, New Jersey, you are a fairly new nurse who pursued a medical career in quite a common way. The way being that it was more so your parents’ wish for you to go to medical school than your own, but you don’t necessarily hate that fact; at least it gave you a direction, so to speak.

It’s early in the morning, so there’s not a whole lot going on. You went around doing your usual checkups already and what not, therefore you decide to go on your well deserved coffee break. However, right as you are are on that, and you step out of the cubicle you are in, you glance over to an unfamiliar face through an operating room.

Some would call it love at first sight, but it really is more than that. It’s the kind of tingly sensation no one could forget. It’s almost shameful, but you can’t be bothered by that feeling right now. As if you physically couldn’t take your eyes off of them, you lose all sense of purpose, standing there, unable to think. Suddenly, someone bumps into you, which wakes you up from your total amusement. You feel the need to know more, so as you squint your eyes, you can read their name off of the shirt they are wearing.

“Dr. Robert Chase..?  I need to.. have a talk with him. I just need to.” – you think to yourself, ponderingly.

You go back to working with a saturated mind, unable to concentrate.

II. The Chase Itself

As days go by, you’re quite hesitant to reach out to him, but you seriously feel the need to. Why is that, really, you ask yourself. You ache to even have a talk with him at this point, but you long for more. Way more. You can’t think of anything else.

After contemplating for a good while, you decide to ask around to know what time he gets off from work, since you want to surprise him at the last minute. That’s the only way you see that you could have a one-on-one with him anytime soon.

With that out the way, you now know everything you needed to know. The only thing that divides you from your desire is to actually act up on it, so you gather all your courage. You look at the time, and you’re actually pretty shocked how caught up you were thinking about him. If you don’t hurry then you’re going to miss him that day entirely, so you start sprinting.

You notice him as he is turning around the corner, all dressed up, ready to leave, and you stumble right into him.

“I need to tell you something inside, it’s.. it’s important, alright. And it might just take a while” – you tell him, struggling with your words. “Great. I was just about to leave, you know. Whatever, show me, I don’t have much time for this. Is it really that important?” – he answers abruptly, being quite impatient.

You suddenly catch a rush of excitement. This is all that you were planning for the past few days or so, to get close to him, and it looks like you’re on track.

III. An Uneasy Start

Chase swings open the door of the office he’s just been in, ushering you in and closing the door behind him, since there’s quite the commotion even late into the night, it’s a hospital after all. It’s dark inside, the only light sources being a dim lamp he accidentally left on and the Moon seeping through the closed blinds faintly. The room has a surgical bed, a cabinet behind it with all kinds of training supplies, a desk with an office chair and a hanger stand. He puts his white coat on the stand, then undoes his tie, putting it into his pants pocket in a really apathetic way, with most of it hanging out.

Seemingly being quite contempt with the situation, he sits down onto the office chair, facing you, and he seriously doesn’t look like he wants to be there.

As a last effort at trying to ease up the situation, you grab the glass of water that is sitting on the desk and you splash it at him, in a playful way.  Not surprisingly, this backfires, since he doesn’t seem too happy about, not in the slightest. He stands up from his desk and goes on to wipe off his shirt to make it slightly less messy, all without even muttering a word. You do feel pretty stupid for that.

With another attempt at getting his attention, you arousingly start to cut the strings off of a few upper buttons on your blouse with a surgical knife, as he turns back to you, giving him a snarky look.

“Was that really necessary? What was so important about any of this? Can we get to the damn point?” – he asks you with a loss of temper. “I might have lied about that important thing.” – you answer him not so bravely.

He's visibly frustrated at you, and with a change of demeanor, he stands up and is now closing distance between you in a rush, as you are backing up. He halts as he catches up to you, towering over you.

With both hands on your shoulders, clenching them hard, he asks you, in an almost belittling tone: “Is this what you wanted? “ “I don’t know, is it?” – you answer him in a pretty similar way.

Like the kind of tease you tend to be, you start gliding around your fingertip on his chest, which he.. seems to enjoy, and lets you do for a short while, for then to push you to the nearest wall.

IV. Lust

Fueled by lust, you immediately grab his chin and assertively start kissing him, which absolutely catches him off-guard. In reaction to the advancement on him, he forces your body onto his as he caresses your back. After this goes on for a bit, he grabs you by the thighs, lifts you up and tosses you onto the surgical table.

With your arms behind you, you’re sitting halfway up as your legs are pulled up. You lock eyes while he is still holding you by your thighs. He leans over, drags you closer and is now standing between your legs.

You clumsily unbutton Robert’s shirt, one by one. In contrast, he carelessly tears off a few more of your buttons, making the blouse slide off your shoulders, which then falls onto your lap, flustering you in the process.

He then puts a hand on your lower abdomen, which feels surprisingly soft, even though his hands are quite firm. Most notably, it’s warm. So warm in fact, you feel like you could melt into him, and you are all about that feeling. Starting from your thighs, continuing to your hips, he brushes his both his hands across all the way up to your chest in a painstakingly soft and throughout way, but at the same it’s quite the calm moment.

An intrigued nervousness starts to pile in you as he suddenly starts to unbuckle his belt, which was undoubtedly the loudest noise in the room so far. In the meantime, like the obedient girl you feel like you are, with each rattle, you can't wait to obey. As if you were a household maid, you’re more than ready to satisfy the head of the house, as if he shook a bell around.

He tosses aside his pants and boxers and you feel like you can’t catch up with your heavy heartbeats as he rests his rigid cock on your stomach. It all just feels so sudden, and it’s starting to grow on you in a pleasurable way. He goes onto removing your bra, while you’re simultaneously stroking him slowly and briefly, before he goes down on you again.

You can feel it throb against you, and it’s just as, if not hotter than his hand is, which he has below your stomach again. He needily grinds against you over and over, lifting your skirt up with it every time, and rubbing against your inner thighs.

He doesn’t wait around before removing your panties, which are drenched by this point, and neither does he wait to penetrate you, as he is inside you now.

“Maybe I did need this.. “ - you hear him talk out loud quietly.

At once, as he is slowly, but forcefully thrusting into you, you see him pulling out the tie out his pocket, which he puts around your neck now, instead of his own.

It’s tightened real well, and he’s gripping it by the base, close to your neck. In the meantime he’s constantly pulling on it upwards, as it’s digging into the back of your neck, scraping your chin against it’s band, making your head tilt backwards considerably. With every moan you make, he tightens more on it, leaving your neck all bruised up. As he is fucking you, you’re nails deep in the sheets. You can’t help yourself but feel pleasured.

As he’s starting to get rougher on you, you begin to develop second thoughts and try to resist him, but as you’re doing that, he immediately tugs you closer, rendering your attempt futile. As you look at him, he seems to be way too into this, as his eyes lose all focus and glare, and you can only watch as his control over himself fades, railing you without a care in the world. This creates even more neediness in you, as you cross your legs behind his back, clinging onto him.

You can barely even keep your eyes on him, and you’re not even resisting his pull on your neck anymore, so you fully commit into tilting you head back in joy. All this sexual fulfillment demands you to do so, as you are slipping out of control more by the second. You feel like you could finish at any time, and as he’s also getting close, he’s painfully grazing your stiff walls more and more, with your moans sounding pitifully more helpless.

Ejaculating with a quiet grunt, he blasts the majority into you, leaving two strings across all the way up your body, all for you to feel ecstatic about. You really do feel like you owned up to it with your services, as if it was his way of rewarding you. Not to forget about you, he pushes you over the edge too, as you’re desperately gripping his shoulders. No matter you could barely take a break after your climax, he leans closer over your stimulation filled shivering body, and goes for a deep passionate kiss. Not even bothered by the fact you are still desperately panting and gasping for air along with him.

V. Not So Aftercare

After standing up from the bed, he comfortably hugs you by your hips, to which you endearingly put your hands onto his. After romantically rocking you slightly around with his hug, he leaves his hands off of you to start dressing up. It’s getting quite late.

As he is about to button back his shirt, he looks at you still standing there, still looking a bit shocked from everything that happened so far. Deciding to help out, he steps besides you, getting your bra back from your bed, and putting it on you. He’s slowly buckling the back together, and you are simply just unable to look him in the eyes, since you're becoming increasingly shy in a sudden way, blushing like you never have before.

"You.. didn't have to, you know.." - you tell him in a higher pitch voice.

You really enjoy his care, it does fill you with joy. Then you reach out for your panties, but as you are pulling them up, he slides his hands under yours, taking the lead again, which surprises you even more. You are so overwhelmed with emotions at this point, you shake right into his hand as he pulls it all the way up, giving you a slight friendly chuckle, and blowing you a kiss right above the lining of your briefs, gaining him an immediate gasp from you. You're truly mesmerized by him.

He continues dressing himself, and as you calm down, you rush into his arms, facing his chest. He caresses and pets your face and head with one arm, for him to go onto groping your ass, and going down to your thighs. His hand lifts your skirt away from time to time, letting colder air in. After he finishes clothing up, he swings you to his other side and pushes you right to the desk.

“I need more of you. I need to feel you in more ways.” – he tells you with a shaky voice.

You almost even stumble, and with an utterly scared look on your face, you glance at him. Without precaution, he pushes you down onto the floor. You look down onto your legs. Your knees are together and your feet are far apart, completely side-tracking you. You even put your hands on your knees in a cute way, but as you lift your head, his cock gets into view, poking through his pants fly, which takes you aback.

Your first and immediate reaction is to press your lips all around him, kissing and licking his shaft as it pumps against your mouth. After growing tired and wanting more, he puts his thumb in your mouth, and with a few fingers latching onto your chin, he pushes downwards on your jaw. With closed eyes, you stick out your tongue, waiting for him to enter. He lets go off of his fingers from your face, following up with exactly what you expected. It feels way bigger than what you anticipated, leaving your mouth sore in the first minute, already. He’s being frantic with you, mouth fucking you without relent. You’re huffing for air as you whimper, but you aren’t getting any. You start to sob as he goes deeper down your throat. As you move your tongue in a swing like motion, from side to side, you circle the bottom of his shaft as he shoves himself in an out. You soak his cock with your saliva, blending with his precum. No matter how much of it you gulp down, It’s flowing out your mouth.

Resting his elbows and head above you on the desk, he looks down at the top of your head, as you suck him off. From the table, as he rocks you around, all kinds of documents fly off. Not that he cares, really.

Without even telling, he comes into your mouth, throbbing against your lips. You stomach it all as you look up to him, initiating eye contact, and smiling. After spewing out his cock, you grab it by the base and gently rub it off with a napkin. He pulls his zipper up, and kneels down. He parts your hair slightly and greets your forehead with a last smooch.

Looking back at you for the final time, he waves at you, winks in a mocking, yet sweet way and leaves though the door. You can only wish to meet soon in a similar fashion.

VI. Reflection

You’re at a loss of thoughts. He’s been so careful, yet so careless with you at the same time, and that’s just messing with your brain right now, so you lean your head against the desk, you close your eyes and give into the bliss once again.

Even after he left, you’re sitting in the dark, in the same position he left you in, with his tie still around your neck. You feel embarrassed, but you can’t help yourself as you take in the scent of his tie, pleasuring yourself through your clothes, while thinking about him. He has a hold on you, and you know that well.

[winterrrnight]

bsf!Rafe who for once gets jealous and annoyed, and it's reader's time to remind him he's still reader's favorite boy

I adore your mind anon 😭😭 jealousy is such a pretty color on rafe <3 this is fr my favourite pairing to write for at the moment so I’m literally always and forever willing to discuss thoughts on them!! <3

bsf!rafe who gets sad jealous when he sees some other guy flirt with you… <3 listen to babydoll by ari abdul, cause rafe calls reader babydoll hehe <3 cw: suggestive content (no actual smut): intimacy, tension and neck kissing, rafe gets jealous, minimal swearing, rafe calls reader babydoll once, reader is a no bullshit taking kind of person, alcohol consumption <3 for @chenslucy (I love love love you heaps anna 💚)

part of this little universe <3

you didn’t even mean to, it just happened.

he cornered you at the bar when all you wanted was to get some beer for you and rafe, and said things like he’s been looking at you since you came inside the party mansion, and thought you’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid his eyes on. you knew it’s all the alcohol in his system talking; he wasn’t even all up in your face yet you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

it took you quite some time to tear away from the conversation; after a lot of convincing from your side that you were not into him, even when he kept on flattering you more and more. you finally escaped the conversation, letting out a deep sigh as you hold two cups of beer in your hand, the next task being to find rafe in the huge crowds.

little did you know, you were under the microscopic vision of rafe. he was in a corner of the party, watching you with his hawk like eyes as the guy talked with you. he couldn’t hear a thing, but from what he saw from the distance, you were being flirted with, and he wasn’t sure you were trying to avoid him or were enjoying it.

he contemplated coming over to break the conversation off, but decided against it. he didn’t know why, but he decided to just watch it all play out, and to see how you react. but what was not helping was his burning jealousy. how can some other man talk to you that way, and even think of making you his?

with a lot of struggle, you found your way through the crowds and finally spotted rafe. you could see he’s slumped in a corner, a scowl on his face. “here you go,” you said, holding out his cup as you took a sip from your own cup. rafe didn’t even look at you, just took the cup from your hand and gulped down most of the beer in one go.

“geez calm down,” you said, furrowing your brows a bit as you watched him down his drink too quick. he still didn’t look at you, and only finished off the drink in another sip. he tossed the empty plastic cup somewhere aside on the floor, and you watched it roll off and get crunched under someone’s foot.

you looked back up to see rafe’s jaw tightened, the scowl had not left him and his eyes were narrow. he was looking anywhere but at you.

“what’s up with you?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink and peering at him from over the rim of the cup.

“nothin’,” he mumbled incoherently under his breath, still not making any sort of eye contact with you. his eyes roamed around the party almost nervously, as if examining each detail and fixing it in his mind.

you rolled your eyes at his answer. “that’s not gonna cut it, come on, out with it. what’s up?”

he grumbled something incoherently again, but this time, you were not having it at all. the lack of eye contact, the bare minimum words; you had enough.

you took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him out of the party mansion, maneuvering through the sweaty crowd of young adults. rafe got caught off guard at first, but didn’t fight and he followed your lead. you led him outside where it was much more quiet, the music a blur and maybe a person or two hanging out, but it was more or less quite silent. you both were right besides the pool, and you sat down, pulling him with you too.

“what’s wrong? speak up, now, because I’m not having that mumbling nonsense you’ve been doing,” you said, your voice a bit cold as you took a sip of your drink.

you could see rafe looking at the water in the pool, the reflections of the calm water dancing across his handsome face.

“jus’ didn’t like you flirting with that dude, ’s all,” he muttered.

you furrowed your brows at him, almost confused as to what he was referring to but catching up quickly. “I wasn’t flirting with him, he was flirting with me. and being quite forward about it too,”

“yeah but you were smiling and laughing, don’t think I didn’t catch that,” he muttered again, his gaze not leaving the pool water.

“cause I was tryna let him down easy! I didn’t want to come off extremely rude,” you said.

rafe didn’t say anything or looked up from the water. you let out a sigh at the sight and kept your cup aside, scooting closer to him.

“look at me rafe,” you mumbled, your breath dancing across his ear. he slowly turned his head, his blue eyes meeting yours under the reflections of the water; the reflections a subtle green due to the dark green tiles at the bottom of the pool.

“I don’t care about that random dude, at all,” you murmured. “I never would, okay? fuck, I didn’t even catch his name, and frankly, I’m not interested in knowing his name,”

you could see his eyes softening. the moonlight along with the green water reflections lightened his eyes to an electric blue instead of the warm blue you usually saw him with.

“yeah?” he whispered, his brain suddenly registering how close you were to him.

“mhm,” you hum, your hand coming up to rest at the side of his neck as you gently rubbed the skin with your thumb.

you could see rafe’s eyes fluttering when he felt you starting to apply some pressure at the side of his neck, almost as if the sensation was sparking the feeling of pleasure in his veins.

“why would I do that when… I’ve got you?” you whispered, your hand coming off his neck for a moment but quickly replaced by your lips, a gentle kiss delivered under the whites of the moon and the greens of the pool.

rafe let out a soft sigh at the feeling, his head involuntarily tilting back as his hands slipped around your shoulders, holding onto you for stability when your kisses became more repetitive, yet were slow and lingered on his skin for a moment each time.

“you’re my favorite boy, always and forever, and don’t you ever forget that yeah?” you whispered, your lips parting from his neck for a second before attaching themselves back again, the same slow speed carried by you.

you could feel rafe’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of your clothing, and that only prompted you to kiss him even more.

as your lips trailed up to his ear to gently press behind the delicate skin of his ear, rafe’s lips parted to let out the softest gasp, his body only craving that sensation on every inch of his skin.

“oh…” he gasped softly, tightening his hold on your shoulders.

“oh babydoll...”

— —

I think bsf!rafe’s nickname for reader would totally be babydoll, might include that more in the rest of the fics for them :p ANYWAYS I love them so so much and I would love to have any requests you may have for them ahhhh

[plooto]

⋆⁺₊⋆ the take // neteyam sully ⋆⁺₊⋆

!! genre . smut

!! warnings . not proofread , not established relationship , kisses , reader in heat , pwp , p i v , fingering , masterbating , voyeurism , multiple orgasms , squirting , creampie .

!! notes . i was kinda stuck writing this :/ might go on hiatus again after this one fr :,(

“ yn, hey! ” you tore your eyes away from neteyam’s form to look at his sister.

“ hm? ” the muscles your forehead rose as you gave kiri your full attention.

“ just go to him, your heat is coming. ” you shook your head, the embarrassing thoughts rushing up behind you.

“ no. i will not, i mean, he’s your brother, there’s no way- ” you winced as a sharp pain ran through your core.

“ told you. ” you give kiri a mean look,

“ just- tell him i’m…busy, i- ” you cried out, covering your mouth as you moved to stand, kiri following you.

“ busy? that’s what you want me to tell him? ” you pushed her shoulder but didn’t let her go as you needed her for stability in this moment,

“ whatever- just- ” another rush of pain.

“ go, yn. ” she pushed you foreward, steering you clear of the dick-thinking na’vi.

in the comfort of your hut you barely made it to your cot before you were flooded with heat. barely managing to get your loincloth out of the way before you had two fingers buried inside yourself to the last knuckle. your fingers curled, trying your hardest to finger that spot that was just only a hair away.

every fibre of neteyam’s being seemed to be on edge. jake rests his hand on his shoulder, neteyam’s head whips around, his loose braids slapping his father’s forearm.

“ hey, go take a walk, okay? clear y’head. ” neteyam nodded once, his brain somehow working hard enough to get him to his feet and walking.

“ brother! ” kiri threw her hand in the air towards her brother,

“ not now kiri. ” neteyam shook his head, falling deeper into his stride as he was determined to figure out what was placing his mind so far away.

“ it’s yn, neteyam. she couldn’t tell you herself , but she’s in heat. ” neteyam stopped and turned to his sister. his mind raced for the first time that day.

“ where is she? ” his muscles felt tight - aching, really - as he waited for his sister to reply.

“ she’s in her mauri.. it’s over- ” kiri wouldn’t finish that sentence, not before neteyam was making his way to your mauri with an urgency she hasn’t seen in a while.

too caught in your own wetness and sounds, you didn’t hear him approach. your back arched as you tried stuffing your fingers deeper inside yourself, forever cursed to not reach that sacred spot inside of you. you didn’t hear neteyam, but you did smell him - just as he did you so early in the day. it was you, the reason he couldn’t focus..the reason he knew where your marui was without being told. your head snapped to his, your eyes locking and you melted - partially from the fact that he sees you like this, but relieved because he is here.

“ look at you.. fuck you’re dripping- ” you left your fingers inside, but couldn’t find the strength to stop their twisting and turning. your eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open, as you watched his eyes dance up your flushed frame.

“ please nete… ” you felt your pupils dilate as you pouted at him. you were above begging - but in this moment, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do. your legs fell open, instinct following the pharmacies he is releasing in response to yours. through lidded eyes you saw his tail thrashing behind him as his jaw clenched and unclenched. he was trying to hold himself together.

it was not working.

he made his way over to you, broad frame casting a shadow from the dim candle light. he kneeled down next to you, a hand by your head as the other danced down your torso. a whimper left your lips and you looked up at him and neteyam swears this sight of you will be the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“ you want my help, sweet girl? ” in any other state of mind, you would have preserved your dignity, your bond with the sullys. but in this moment, you couldn’t care less. you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your fangs.

“ ah-ah use your words. ” the tone he used nearly sent your brain to another world. choking down a moan, you replied with a meek, “ please help me nete.. ”

he didn’t waste another moment, his left hand pulled yours out, replacing it instantly. as you felt his fingers slide in your head fell back against the furs under your head, a soft mewl leaving your lips.

if he was any other man, he would have came just from feeling how warm and wet you were. but he���s not. he’s neteyam sully. the same man who spreads your legs to allow room for him to shift between. the same man who sucks on your clit and laps up your essence as if it was the last thing he’d do. the same man who’s hips are rocking against the floor of your mauri because he wants to take his time pleasing you. the same man who has had his eyes on you as long as he could remember.

you couldn’t stop the moans leaving your lips - not like you wanted to, you finally had him after years of pining. even if it is just for your heat.

his lips left your swollen bud, but his fingers still pressing at that spot yours could never reach. “ that’s it.. ” you felt that familiar heat pool in your stomach. back arching off the ground you were so so close.. “ that’s it yawne.. ”

and there it was. the last push you needed to take a free fall over the edge of ecstasy. neteyam didn’t waste a moment, nor waste a drop. your chest heaved as you came down from your high and neteyam rose from between your thighs, face glossed with your arousal.

neteyam crawled up to be face to face with you, forearms resting beside your head.

“ you always leave me breathless, yn. ” he affirmed, pressing kisses to your jaw and trailing lower. kisses along the column of your throat brought that heat back to your stomach. as if he knew, one of his hands slipped down between your thighs, rubbing soft circles on your clit. a sigh left your lips as your eyes finally shut. neteyam loved all of your sounds. groaning, he smashed his lips against yours, you moaned against them, allowing his tongue to slip between your bruising lips.

“ i need you neteyam…inside- please- ” you pleaded against his lips, squirming against his hand, needy for more - to be filled. your eyes opened and locked onto his golden ones. blown pupils and a smirk on his face he whispered against your cheek, “ as you wish tiyawn. ” he shed himself of his tweng, left hand leaving your clit briefly to pump his cock before pressing it against your entrance. “ breathe for me. ” he whispered, head ducking down breifly to watch his head slip past your puffed lips before returning to watch your face contort in pleasure.

fuck he was big, but the pain meant little to nothing right now. not when he fucks inch after thick inch into you. your hands found his back, scratching at it as his body came back over yours. overheating from the inside out, you pressed your face into his neck, fangs sinking into his shoulder when he bottomed out. bodies pressed against each other, pheromones dancing in the air around you, you felt neteyam’s form shaking.

“ nete- pl- ” you don’t get to finish your sentence before he is pulling out and slamming into you. your body jerks with the power of his thrusts, your voice anchoring at every rough movement of his hips.

“ think you can handle more, sweet girl? ” you nodded, the rational part of your mind wondering how-

and there it was, hips pistoning against yours in an animalistic pace. your moans knew no limit in this moment, nor the ones after. neteyam muffles your sounds of your pleasure with his lips, but that didn’t quiet the squelching of your cunt around his cock. you desperately tried to meet his thrusts, trying to help him please you, but he had it all on his own. your legs parted as neteyam sits up, pushing the back of your knees, they press against your ears.

the new position didn’t leave much room for cries, neteyam fucking you silent and hitting the deepest parts of you that nudged just past your cervix. your voice returned and out came a mantra of his name as you neared your second orgasm of the night. he knew it was coming and he smirks, pushing on your ankles to completely fold you in half. raising to his feet he pulls out nearly all the way before slamming back into you, hitting that spot he knew all too well. you didn’t get a chance to be shocked about the sudden change in position, not before your vision was filled with white hot pleasure. neteyam was on the edge, teetering on it as you clenched around him like a vice. he curses, hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“ c’mon give me one more baby. ” he growls through gritted teeth. he lets the two of you down, finger finding your clit as he feels the waves of your orgasm subside. your lips locked together, strained moans trying to fight their way out as you felt that heat in your stomach approaching way too fast.

“ ne- netey- ” your eyes fluttered open, squeezing shut before opening them again to lock with his. his cheeks were flushed, half lidded eyes looking back down at you. another shrill of pleasure fills you, watching him watch you. he gives you a lopsided grin, he had you just where he wanted you.

his hips sped up, something you didn’t think was possible as his thumb pressed harder circles on your clit. you choked out a string of curses as another orgasm hit you like a train, your body squirting onto his torso.

“ shit. ” he growls, his three fingers rubbing on your clit to prolong your orgasm as he comes right behind you. with a throaty moan, neteyam pumps you full, thoroughly coating your walls white. chests heaving and covered in sweat neteyam presses his chest and forehead against yours.

“ you’re mine, yn. mine. ” he growls, pressing gentle kisses to your eyelids. you pressed your nose into his chin, your subtle way of scenting him.

you two stayed there for a few moments, gathering your breath before neteyam’s hips begin to rock once more.

this was going to be a long few days and you were here for every moment of it.

[vhstown]

'til the breath returns

— hobie brown x gn!reader (dissociation comfort)

summary: It's hard to stay in your own body sometimes. At least Hobie's right there with you.

warnings: v self-indulgent (so may not be a very accurate depiction of dissociation erm...), dissociation / derealisation / depersonalisation (those terms are distinct but just in case :p), anxious behaviour, hurt/comfort-ish, hobie is trying his best? (he's not ur therapist but it's okay) & not proofread

word count: 1.9k

a/n: been struggling to get out of a dp/dr funk recently so. here we are! no gif lemme keep this one on the down-low fr 😭 img is of camden town from pinterest

🕸️📞🎸

"Hello? Hello...?"

The muscles in your shoulders tightened at the sound of the voice, obscurely louder than anything else around you — around you being the market, that was. Just how long had you been here?

You felt a burning ache in your eyes as you looked around, taking in the blur around you before meeting the expression of the man in front of you. The owner of the food truck, of course. He had an impatient look on his face, but it was too much detail to be anxious about.

"Sorry, uh..." you offered quietly, cut off by another loud voice behind you.

"Just hurry up and pay, mate! We haven't got all day!"

Your jaw tensed, crunching uncomfortably as you fumbled for something in your pockets. Trying to find cash of some sort, the world became still again, and you could barely register what they were saying before you put whatever you could find on the window sill of the truck.

Something that sounded unpleasant, another shout, maybe, followed behind you as you walked out into the open pavements of the market. Your hands felt funny, breath dry and head heavy and so light at the same time. It felt like you were floating, but also sinking so deep under water you were moving slow motion against the thick water. It was somewhat comforting, that image.

Maybe you should just sit down, let yourself fall backwards and sink. Maybe you'd wake up in bed, and fully be able to open your own eyes again. When was the last time you could do that? When was the last time you woke up? This morning, surely. It seemed so far away; maybe you should walk home, find home — it was somewhere near here. Where were you walking?

Why was the ground getting so close to your face—

"Hey, hey! Oi!"

Before your weight could fall forward anymore, you felt a hand move around your stomach. Tongue stinging too, you realise you'd bitten it. The urgent touch became more gentle, as the haste wore off and you were helped to your feet. You tried to pick up the sounds to form a "thank you", but all you could do was stare strangely as you met a face you could just about recognise.

"Don't mean to scare you, darling."

It was your boyfriend, is what you told yourself. Hobie.

"Didn't get your change..." He held out the coins in his hand, some of which were probably already yours . "And you're trippin' over yourself."

It would sound too weird if you tried to laugh, so you didn't bother.

"My bad, just out of it." Right, is what he must've thought.

"Been out of it for a while, huh?" He taps your cheek twice, bringing your attention to him. You hadn't realised you'd been staring dead straight into his chest — not anywhere near his face. "Your patty's all squashed, love."

His fingers moved gently between yours, prying the poor warm paper from your hand. The patty you had bought had started to singe the tips of your fingers, and the tips of your fingers had already broken apart the bread of the patty.

You didn't have much will to complain, but the corners of Hobie's mouth turned down in a frown. He took your hand, the pad of histhumb brushing the lingering heat off of your fingers

"What's going on? You hungry? Tired? Upset...?" All you could give him was a useless shrug — it'd probably be easier to fix if you could describe it; if only. "Hm..."

The back of his hand was cold against your forehead. Or maybe you were cold; he never really got cold after all.

"You wanna go home?"

"Hm?" you murmured, Hobie observing you. You weren't supposed to go home; you'd get over it. Fresh air and a walk was supposed to help, anyway — not like it was. "Thought you wanted to stay."

"We can always come back another time. You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."

His hand moved to your shoulder, brushing his lips over your forehead. It was definitely you that was cold.

"I think you should have my patty, too," he added, placing his in your hand.

Arm moving fully around your shoulder, the two of you started to walk back.

"It'll be warm out, soon," Hobie comments, as if trying to be inconspicuous. He pulls you closer to mams for a lady walking her dogs: little white lap dogs that turned their heads to look at you, or maybe Hobie. You tried to remember if the last time you saw them was today or last week.

"Ah, yeah..." you said, realising he was waiting for you to say something — something of more substance, probably.

"Sure bloody hope so," he continued, something like humour in his voice. "Been freezing my bum off for the past month."

Your steps felt big against the ground, like the ground was pushing back up, and you were going to float away if Hobie let you go. All you could do was just hope he didn't.

"It better not rain, though. I'll go mad if it does. Nothing's good in the rain, 'specially not food. Meant to have a street party soon."

Remembering the patty in your hand, you took a bite before Hobie had to remind you. It was veg — not beef like he'd usually have. In fact, he complained about the veg usually. Still, today, he'd wanted a veg patty. You held onto that fact like it was the first thing you'd ever been told, as you walked together.

As he continued talking, you had reached the riverside. It looked onwards to the canal, the water coloured by the orange sun. Everything always looked so different on the way back; the air was still, and it was evening by now.

"Mine or yours?" Hobie asks, as you reach the by-street.

"Mine, if you come with me."

"I ain't gonna leave you behind, or nothin'."

He cracks a smile, and you reach for his hand time time as you took the turn to your home. There were shops that passed by, but you didn't pay enough attention to figure out what they were.

And you weren't sure when you ended up in bed, probably after making conversation for a bit and changing, because you were now in your own bed, arms and legs and Hobie's chest encasing you in a relaxed hug. You were wearing a shirt that fit weirdly on you. It was likely his — the one shirt he had without lint on it. His head wasn't entirely on your shoulder, but he was close enough to press a kiss to your temple — it left a warm, tingling feeling, as did the rest of his weight against you.

"Is there something wrong specifically?" he asks, voice a quiet, smooth vibration next to you.

"Dunno, I just... feel weird. Mentally, I mean," you admit, turning your head to lean it against his. "I think this is helping, though."

"Yeah? You want me to do anything else?" You just wanted to keep yourself awake; you wanted to keep hearing his voice.

"Want to hear you talk more."

"As long as you talk as well." Your quiet sigh was audible enough to him, it seemed. "C'mon love, you've gotta talk, or you'll be stuck up there forever."

With your demeanor seeming to give up with you, he pressed another kiss to your face, near the corner of your mouth this time. It usually got a smile out of you, but you didn't know if you had the energy to. He lingered there, still.

"How about we start with right now?" he muttered, hand on your shoulder. "You gonna tell me about those new decorations in your room? Or all those new clothes in your closet? Or how your bathroom doesn't have the nice-tasting toothpaste anymore?"

"Hobie... What the hell..." You frowned. And then the smallest laugh escaped out of you, because you frowned, and then he laughed, because it was all he really needed.

"I'm serious, though. Let's start from the top?"

"Like... from when I was born?" That got a laugh out of him, thankfully. Your smile, though little, didn't seem to disappear just yet.

"Well, if you want," he replied, pulling his arms tighter around your sides. "I was thinking more like, this morning?"

This morning... A little worry creeped inside your stomach as you came to face how little you could really recount right now. The light brush of Hobie's thumb against your cheek kept you at bay, however, and you took in a deep breath.

"Well, today... we went to the market together," you started, taking his hand from your shoulder and holding it in your own. You toyed idly with his fingers, thumb brushing over his rings as your mind fell into blankness again.

"And it rained all morning," Hobie said, after a beat of silence, fingers gently squeezing yours.

"And... this little kid slipped in the mud," you murmured.

"Ah, he did. Rough, weren't it?"

"Mhm," you replied, and at the silence, you tried to continue. "Poor thing. His dad looked horrified."

The quiet chuckle against your back made your words seem somewhat more trustworthy, and you finally decided to just let yourself speak, about anything that came to mind.

"...And then we went to look at clothes. None of them were your size."

"Couldn't believe it..." Hobie commented, murmuring.

"And then we... got lost for a bit. Ended up in this shop that sold china."

"Oh yeah, there were those funny bird-lookin' ones."

"And then we walked around for a bit..."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was actually helping or not, but at the very least, that fuzzy look in your eyes that scared him a bit had eased

"And now we're home," you concluded, and he kissed the side of your head as if to confirm.

"Yep. Where are we?" The question was pretty straightforward, but you took the chance to answer regardless.

"In my room... On my bed." The mattress creaked just a little as you readjusted your position, moving closer against him. "And I'm still with you."

"Uh-huh. Still here."

"It's getting dark out, though." Looking out at the dimming sky through your window, you took another breath in, not as deep as you would've liked.

"I can stay," Hobie reassured. His voice gave no reason for you to doubt it.

"Could you?"

"A hundred percent. Not a second I don't wanna spend with you."

Hobie brushed his nose against yours, before pressing a momentary kiss to your lips.

"Look," he started, voice low and soft, slightly more serious. "I'm not exactly sure how to help, but whatever you need, I'll be here."

Turning to face him again, you returned his kiss, holding it a little longer to feel the warmth of his lips against yours. Hobie held you like you were the world, and everything in it; if you didn't need to, at least you wanted to.

"Can we just keep talking?" Your voice sounded different, but not strange — a bit less tense, more certain.

"We can talk about anything you want; we've got all night."

You narrowed your eyes in thought for a moment, and he looked at you as if he already knew what you were thinking.

"...Could you scratch my back too?"

Hobie grinned, and so warmly — so easily. You felt a smile tug at your lips too, breath sinking back into your chest and the ever-present weight starting to lift from your body.

"Yeah, sweetheart — of course. Want me to switch the light off?"

You decided to nod, saving your words for when you finally laid in the darkness, curled up against him. Murmuring soft, yet sure words between each other, his fingers grazed your back in a gentle back-and-forth, and as your voice faded, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, pulling you further into him and the covers.

Breath quiet and even, you inevitably drifted into sleep. His hand was still on your back, feeling each breath of yours as it came and went, like the shore lapping against the land. And he'd breathe right with you, even when you couldn't hear him — even if he'd have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Always, he promised himself, and you. Always, until your breath returned — until you returned.

🕸️📞🎸

thank you for reading urrrr never written a comfort fic before n ik this is kind of diff but hopefully some of my usual stuff soon 🙏

rbs appreciated if u liked it, atsv masterlist here!

@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups

[slut4thebroken]

Bully stepbro!Neil pt. 1

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepbro!Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | Your stepbrother likes to bully you… His all time favorite way to do that is with wedgies.

Warnings | Heavy on the humiliation lol, wedgies, lots of ‘em, that’s what the whole fic is lol, degradation, dubious consent, crying, pretend he’s actually strong enough to do this lmao

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | You guys fr need to stop encouraging me💀 Also I couldn’t decide on a gif lol since it’s not one full story but a bunch of little things, so I decided to put them at the beginning of each one :)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Give me the remote.” He said as he flopped down on the couch next to you. 

“No. My dad said I can use the tv today.” You hid the remote under the blanket, trying to keep it away from him. 

“Yeah well he’s not here is he?” You bit your lip and looked away from him with a scowl. “Give it.” He ordered, only making you more defiant. 

“No.” 

“Stop being a brat and just give it to me.” He snapped. 

“No!” You watched him let out a heavy breath through his nose as he clenched his jaw. Before you could even blink, he was lunging at you. “Stop it!” You yelled, trying to push him away. The blanket covering you and the remote fell off in the process and you kept struggling as he tried to over power you. 

Finally he grabbed your wrists and slammed you down onto the couch, making the remote fall to the floor. He let go of one of your wrists to reach for it and you brought your hand down to push at the arm holding himself up. Both of you grunted when he landed on top of you, but he kept reaching, so you used that to your advantage and rolled him off the couch, letting you have a chance to try and take it back. Part of your torso was off the couch as you tried to grab it and as soon as Neil got up from the floor, he was attacking again. 

What you didn’t expect was for his hands to go down toward your hips and grab your underwear. You screamed on the first hard pull and he did it again, this time pulling you off the couch. 

“What the hell?! Stop it!” You yelled, trying to crawl away from him, but he just got to his feet and stood over you, lightly stepping on your back to hold you in place as he got a better grip on your underwear. He started pulling again, lifting your hips off the ground as you screamed. The pain was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The burning was so bad it brought tears to your eyes that didn’t take long to fall. 

“Neil, stop!” You cried out. “I’m sorry! You can have the remote,” 

“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.” He said simply. 

“I have! Please!” Your voice was cracking now that you were crying. He continued pulling, bouncing your hips up and down, each one forcing a sound of pain out of you. When he got bored, he yanked as hard as he could one final time, then suddenly let go. You dropped onto the floor with a startled grunt and watched him bend down to pick up the remote before sitting on the couch again. Your sobs quieted a little and you started sniffling, not getting up from the floor yet. 

“Can you go cry in the other room?” He huffed, getting annoyed. 

“That hurt, Neil.” You’ve never sounded so pathetic before. 

“Good. It was supposed to.” He shrugged with a small smirk. “Go put ice on it or something— I don’t really care. But at least just shut up so I can actually watch.” 

“What are you doing?” He asked as he walked into the room. 

“Just making some lunch.” You shrugged and he hummed in response. You waited for him to say something, but he just kept staring at you. After another minute, he finally spoke. 

“How long’s it been, huh?” He asked curiously, making your brows scrunch together in confusion. 

“What?” 

“You know… Since we’ve had the whole house to ourselves.” You stiffened, worrying about where he was going with this. 

“Oh… Yeah, a while I guess.” You said nervously. 

“Well, do you want to do anything? You don’t have any friends and all of my friends think you’re weird so we could just have some brother-sister bonding time.” He suggested teasingly. If you were facing him, he probably would’ve winked. 

“I was just gonna read and catch up on some homework.” You were really hoping he’d just let this go and leave you alone… but when has he ever passed up an opportunity to mess with you? 

“God,” he groaned exaggeratedly, “this is why you don’t have any friends. I mean seriously, who does homework on a Saturday night?” 

“What do you even want to do?” You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t stop. 

“I can think of one thing…” As soon as you realized what he meant, you turned around, finding him already walking toward you. 

“No, Neil— Neil, please don’t.” You whined, but it was already too late. He turned you around to face away from him, then immediately reached in the back of your pants for your underwear and yanked them up. You cried out when he pulled hard enough to lift you off the ground for a second. “Ow! Neil, stop!” You yelled, trying to push his hands away. 

“If you don’t want to be wedgied then you shouldn’t act like a nerd.” He snickered, pulling harder. “You're lucky I don’t feel like putting in the effort to get it around your shoulders or over your head.” He gave one last yank, much harder than all of the previous ones, then let you go. You had to cling to the counter for support so that you didn’t fall. Before walking out, he grabbed the plate of food you made for yourself. “Have fun with your homework, nerd.” 

You were reaching as high as you could, trying to get something from the top shelf of the pantry, but your fingers barely brushed the shelf. 

“Need a hand?” Before you could respond he was getting a good grip on your underwear and pulling them up until your feet barely touched the ground, making you scream. “Oh come on, you still have to reach for it.” He kept bouncing you, over and over again, never giving you a proper chance to try and grab it. Tears were welling up in your eyes from the burn now, but he didn’t stop. “Come on, nerd. Reach higher.” You heard the loud tearing before you felt the intense burn, then fell to the ground. “Holy shit!” He laughed loudly, holding your ripped underwear in his hands. “How much did that hurt, huh?” He smirked. 

“Just give it back and leave me alone.” Your frown only encouraged him. 

“No, I think I want a trophy.” He started stuffing your underwear in his pocket and you leaned up to reach for them, but he pushed you back down by your forehead. “Once you get whatever it was you were reaching for, make me something too. All of that pulling really took a lot out of me.” He started walking out, then stopped when he was in the doorway, giving you a condescending smile. “Oh and you might try using a stool, idiot.” 

You were sitting on the couch, reading and trying to relax, but you sighed loudly when you heard his footsteps growing closer. Neil walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, throwing his feet up to lay down and almost kicking you in the process. 

“Clean my room by tonight. My mom told me to do it, but I don’t really feel like it.” He ordered casually, as he turned on the tv. The demand immediately made your blood boil— you’re sick of putting up with this. 

“No! You can clean it yourself.” You said firmly, making him turn his head to look at you. 

“Excuse me?” His tone made you falter. 

“I-I’m not your maid. You can clean your own room.” Your voice was far less confident this time. 

“Fine.” He shrugged with a smile, standing up and walking closer to you. When he grabbed you and started pulling you over the arm of the couch, you kicked and squirmed, but it was no use. As soon as your hips were resting on it, he grabbed your underwear and pulled as hard as he could. You screamed and tried to get out of his hold, but all he did was push his knee against your back to keep you against the outside of the couch, with your face almost on the floor. He let you continue kicking your legs— it barely did anything anyway. 

“Stop it! Neil!” You cried, screaming even louder. You wished at least one of your parents was home right now, but of course they just had to have a date night. 

“You need to watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking to me, nerd.” He punctuated his warning with another forceful tug. 

“Let go! You’re hurting me— let go!” You yelled as you flailed, trying to escape the pain. He ignored you and kept pulling until tears were burning your eyes. After a while, he let go and yanked you up by your hair, using the momentum to throw you backwards so you were now laying on the couch. When he sat on your chest you finally understood. “No— Neil, no! Please, don’t! I’m sorry!” Your begging fell on deaf ears. The first pull for the frontal wedgie had you screaming as your tears finally fell. 

“Stop it! Neil, I’m sorry— please stop!” You cried, voice breaking with the tears. 

“Do you ever stop talking?” He asked with annoyance and you didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. He continued with that until you were sobbing and incoherently begging him to stop. When he stood up, you thought he was finally giving you mercy, but that hope was gone in an instant as he pulled you to your feet. He grabbed the leg holes on either side of your hips and started bouncing you up and down, stretching it more and more as you cried loudly, pleading with him to stop. You’ve never felt pain like this before in your entire life. 

Once your underwear was level with your chest, he maneuvered your arms through each leg hole and pulled harder, stretching them even more so they were resting on your shoulders. When he dragged you by your hair, your crying got even more intense. He finally landed at the door to his room and shoved you inside. 

“I’m gonna watch you clean my room and you’re not going to take that off unless you want me to hang you up somewhere overnight.” 

“Neil, I’m sorry.” You whimpered through the sobs. “I’ll clean it— just please,” Neil looked around the room, picking up the first thing he saw; a pair of boxers on his bed. You had no idea if they were clean or dirty and you also had no idea what he was planning on doing with them, so you took a step away from him in fear. 

“Open up, nerd.” He walked toward you and you staggered back even more, finally understanding his plan. 

“No— I won’t say anything. Or cry. I’ll be quiet.” You begged, letting out a choked sob when he forced the fabric in your mouth anyway. He stuffed all of it past your lips, then gave you a light slap on your cheek, making you flinch. 

“Start cleaning.” He smirked, walking back over to the bed and laying propped up by his pillows, relaxing as if he was getting ready to watch his favorite film. 

You knew Neil liked films, especially old ones… but you just found them so incredibly boring. You do your best to get out of watching any with him, but this time it didn’t work. So you were sitting next to him on the couch, trying to pay attention. All the film succeeded in doing was making you even more sleepy. 

“Are you even watching?” Your eyes snapped open as soon as you heard him. 

“Y-yes. I am— I’m watching.” He scoffed, clearly not believing you. “I’m sorry, Neil. It won’t happen again.” 

“No. You know what? If you don’t want to watch, that’s fine by me.” Your stomach was already churning at just the thought of where he was going with this. Before you even had time to react he was pushing you down onto the couch and sitting on your upper back with your arms raised by your head, unable to bring them down. 

“I said I’m sorry!” You started kicking and trying to buck him off of you, but he was undeterred. “Neil, please!” Your words cut off into a scream when he used all of his strength to pull your underwear up. No matter how hard you cried or struggled, he kept pulling, leaning back and using his body weight to get more force. He only stopped once he needed more room. 

Making sure he was holding down your arms with his legs, he shuffled backwards over your head until he was sitting on the couch close enough where if you lifted your head, your face would be inches from his crotch. As soon as you tried squirming away, he yanked on your underwear again, making your body go limp from the pain as you cried. You kept your face buried in the couch, not able to move it anywhere else, but it was getting hard to breathe with how much you were sobbing. You kicked and screamed uselessly, unable to do anything other than take it. 

“Lift your head, nerd.” You kept your face firmly against the couch, which prompted him to roughly fist your hair and yank your head back. He shuffled forward because he knew that once he let go of your hair, you wouldn’t be able to put your head back down without it going in his crotch. He kept pulling and you kept crying, your sounds much louder now. 

Without any warning, he pulled hard enough to lift your hips off the couch, then put the fabric over your head, covering your forehead and eyes. 

“Stop it!” You cried, trying to pull your hands out from under him, but he wouldn’t budge. “Take it off! Please take it off,” Your sobbing intensified, making him laugh loudly. 

“You didn’t want to watch. Now you don’t have to.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“I’m sorry! Please take it off— it hurts!” 

“What hurts? This?” He leaned over you and you screamed again when his crotch pushed against your face, forcing you to smell his musk. The scream only got louder when he grabbed the underwear from above your lower back and pulled a few times. After a few seconds, he sat back down on the couch and resumed the movie. “Don’t be such a cry baby.” 

Part 2

(Part 2 will be a lil smuttier btw 😼)

Taglist (join here)

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[lincolndjarin]

A Little Mishap.

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day five - afab!reader x dark!francisco morales

prompt : hate sex [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 1.4k (sorry all of these are so short, there's so many i've been struggling to make them longer)

summary : READ ALL WARNINGS. THIS IS MY FIRST DARK FIC. you and frankie return to base camp after an unsuccessful mission, each of you blaming the other for the outcome.

warnings, etc. : dead dove do not eat, dubcon/noncon, dark!frankie, unprotected p in v, spanking, use of restraints, panty gag, painful sex, degradation, orgasm denial, creampie, ambiguous ending, probably other things lmk if i forgot any tags

a/n : a lot of my october stuff is gonna be barely edited so my apologies for that but this is my first time writing frankie but also my first time writing any sort of dark fic and i'm definitely feeling anxious about posting this but here it is uhhhh yeah. i've been finishing all of these before work this week and having this tiny little time crunch before doing a ten hour shift really wakes me the fuck up lmao.

He shoves you into the tent, both of you fuming at this point. Neither one of you speaks as you take a seat on your cot, putting your head in your hands. After a moment you can see his boots appear in front of you. 

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you.” He growls and you feel your jaw tense as you look up at him. 

“You can’t believe me?” You say incredulously. “If it weren’t for me we’d have nothing.” 

“If it weren’t for you we might have everything.” He hisses, planting a hand firmly on your shoulder as he shoves you back into the wall, you sit up quickly, kicking his knee in retaliation, watching as he slumps to the floor. 

“I did exactly what Santi would have wanted me to do in that situation.” You usually don’t physical when you two fight, (which is happening more and more often these days) but today you’re fed up with him, you’d been on that mission with just him for over a week when he’d fucked up. You could have lost everything if you’d listened to him, at least now you had half the haul. 

“La puta…” He grumbles, grabbing you by your ankles as you lean back to kick him again. “Os voy a dar una lección.” He mumbles, twisting your legs until you stop resisting. You swallow a squeak that threatens to bubble up from the pain, you’re about to swing on him when he pushes you back down, his hands swiftly yank your pants down making you freeze in shock. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest as he drags you off the cot, knocking the wind out of you as you hit the tent floor.

“Asshole!” You yelp as he pins you down with his knees, taking both your wrists in one large hand as you squirm beneath him, trying to flip him off you.

“Fucking- quit it.” He delivers a sharp slap to your jaw promptly halting your struggle as you scowl at him. You’re about to hurl another insult at him when you hear the familiar sound of his switchblade flipping open. “Don’t move.” He mumbles as you feel the cold steel against your hip and in an instant you hear a slicing, followed by the same on the other side, you squeeze your thighs together instinctively as he pulls your panties off with ease now that the sides are torn.

“Frankie!” You shriek and he takes the opportunity to shove the bunched up fabric between your teeth.

“‘Talk too damn much.” You try to kick him again as he tugs your pants the rest of the way down, bringing them up as he haphazardly flips you onto your stomach, binding your hands behind your back with one of your pant legs. You’re about to spit your panties out when you feel the steel on your throat. “You keep that smart mouth of yours stuffed or I’ll find another way to shut you up.” His blade digs into your flesh as a silent warning and you don’t dare. He gives you a minute to decide what you want to do and you choose to just stay still, trying desperately to steady your breathing. 

He digs his knee into your lower back one more time, eliciting a pained groan from you before slotting himself between your thighs. You’re dizzy from everything happening so fast and he doesn’t give you much of a chance to process any of it as he takes hold of your makeshift cuffs, dragging you upright as you kneel, his free hand wrapping around your waist to cup your mound. 

“You know how often I think about this?” He rests his temple on yours as his chin sits on your shoulder, his body heat suffocates you. 

How many times had you reluctantly thought about the same thing? Rolling to face away from him in your shared tent and shoving your hand between your legs, imagining what it would be like when he finally got sick of your shit and bent you over. You’re snapped out of your thoughts as he dips two fingers between your folds with a satisfied sigh. He slides his digits back and forth, scooping up your abundant wetness with a throaty chuckle.  

“You get off on bein’ a brat?” He dangles his fingers in front of your face before rubbing your slick onto your parted lips, forcing you to taste your own arousal. “Then I’ll treat you like a brat.” He tangles his fingers in your hair, yanking your head up as you feel him grind the front of his pants against your ass. “Fuckin’ soaking me.” He bends you over, forcing your ass up and pushing your face into the floor. He keeps one hand locked around your wrist as the other shoves his own pants down. You whine into the makeshift gag. “Maybe I’ll just fuck some obedience into you.” 

You let out a squeak as he slaps your rear. He lets his palm rest there, before roughly spreading your cheeks. You hear him spit, followed by the sensation of it dripping down your seam, you can feel him lining himself up at your entrance, all of his actions are rushed and you just can’t keep up, your body doesn’t even have time to make an attempt at defending yourself as he rams himself into you without warning. A muffled squeal falls from your lips as he beings to fuck you mercilessly, giving you no time to adjust to the sheer size of him. 

With your face pressed into the floor you can’t see him but you can certainly feel just how thick he is. The underlying pleasure does nothing to soothe the feeling of being split open by him. 

“Jesus-” He grunts out, your pussy gushing around him only spurs him on, his movements somehow becoming harsher as he bumps against your g-spot with ever slam of his hips, the combines overstimulation and pain makes your eyes water, a few tears slipping past your lash line. “Dunno how I’m gonna last in such a tight cunt.” He slaps your ass again, hard enough that you’re pretty sure you’ll have a mark, drawing a sob from you. “Fuckin’ choking my cock when I do that.” 

He spanks you again, a loud crack rings throughout the tent as your cunt involuntarily clamps down on him, his hips stuttering forward. 

“You fucking love this, don’t you?” His voice is low and dangerous as the rough denim of his jeans scratches at your thighs. “Is that why you keep squeezin’ me?” You don’t realize he expects a response until he smacks you again. “You love this?” You nod fervently, mumbling something similar to a yes into your panties. “You wanna finish on my cock?” Much to your own dismay you nod once more.

You don’t know how, but against all odds you really are close. The coil tightening in your stomach threatens to consume you as you try desperately to force yourself over that edge to no avail.

“That’s too bad, only good girls get to come.” He growls, readjusting himself so one hand is tangled in your hair and the other is gripping your wrists, keeping you hovering above the tent floor rather uncomfortably, your lurch forward with every one of his brutal thrusts. You groan something that sounds like his name but you know it’s useless to try and reason with him. With a few more long drawn out thrusts you feel him burst within you, his grip on your hair tightens and you shriek as his release begins dripping from your swollen cunt as he slips out of you.

Your tears are drying on your face and you slump forward once his hands release you. Your body continues to buzz with frustration, a small part of you is genuinely upset at your lack of an orgasm. You can hear the rest of your mission party returning as Frankie leans forward and presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, a sharp contrast to everything he just did to you. You can hear the zipper on his pants as he pulls himself together, leaving you wrecked on the floor. 

“Why don’t we see how Pope feels about your little mishap?” He whispers before you turn your head just in time to watch him lean out of the tent, calling Santiago over.

a/n : i would love any sort of feedback on this?? i've never written anything like this before so i'm a little nervous.

[midnightbabylon]

Fine

summary: Bucky Barnes is the only person in the world who ignores you. Yet you are constantly sent on mission with him. In this one you get hurt by accident and he is disturbingly nice and caring to you and that confuses you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: fluffy and soft Barnes

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Starting a new life is not always easy. After the Battle in New York City, you were faced with nothing. Your family was buried under your Manhattan apartment. An explosion had taken everything from you. Your ear rang violently and blood ran from it. You struggled through the wreckage of the streets, shaking, when it was all over. You fled the state and built a new life with the rest of your family's savings. Never again did you want to go through life without a fight. If such an attack ever happened again, you wanted to be ready for it.

"Good morning." you said as you entered the kitchen and adjoining dining room. Everyone murmured a quiet reply except Bucky. Sighing softly, you placed your cup under the coffee maker and pressed the button. Then you made yourself a sandwich and took the last seat at the other end of the table. Your ears listened to some conversations, but you did not participate in any of them. Silently you watched the morning hustle and bustle. If someone told you 6 years ago that you would be at Avengers headquarters, you wouldn't have believed them.

"Oh nice everyone is here, then I can start the meeting." Tony ate a handful of blueberries and stopped across from you. "Romanov and Clint you guys hit the jackpot. Fury will join." he handed Natasha the first file then they left. "Steve, Wilson and Wanda. Quinjet and the longest mission. Good luck." Steve took the next file. An uncomfortable feeling spread through you and inwardly you hoped he wouldn't mention you're and Bucky's names. But luck was not on your side today. "Bucky and Y/N. Warehouse in New Jersey." Frustrated, you exhaled and picked up the file. Shortly thereafter, the ghastly squeak of a chair broke the silence and Bucky stormed out of the room. You really weren't hungry anymore, so you pushed the sandwich over to Peter and stood up. "It gets better eventually." Uncertainly, you looked at Tony. "What?" you asked. "The nightmares. Friday evaluated last week's night logs for me. You can always talk to someone here Y/N." Nodding silently, you walked out of the common room to your room. As you did so, you flipped through the file.

You couldn't explain why he hated you so much. After all, you had some things in common. When you weren't on missions, you could be found in front of a good book or lost in thought in a quiet place. You especially avoided parties of any kind, simply because your social battery drained very quickly. Sam regularly tried to lure you and Bucky out of the room. It usually worked for the cold soldier, but not for you. You liked your privacy and have always been more of a loner. After freshening up and slipping into your new black suit, you came into the garage. You ran your fingers over the new fabric. Tony had completely redesigned your suit and improved it. "Took you long enough," Bucky muttered grumpily. Annoyed, you clench your jaw and stare at him for a few seconds. "Why are you always like this with me?" you blurted out. "I haven't done anything to you!" Shaking your head, you got into the car without saying another word. You slammed the door on purpose to make your point. You stared at the monitor and typed in the destination. "Are you coming already?!" you shouted out, as Bucky was still standing in the open driver's door. He mumbled something unintelligible and got behind the wheel. The drive to Jersey didn't take long, yet your mind wandered. Not that Bucky would talk to you.

"What is that?" your mother asked as she stood at the kitchen window. Darkness fell over Manhattan for a moment and you joined her. A huge crash echoed through the streets of Midtown. "Get away from the window and find your father." she said in a trembling voice. Something was wrong but you couldn't see. You almost tripped over your own feet looking for your father. As you took the stairs to the top floor, the building began to shake. "Dad!" you yell up the stairs. Staggering, you arrived at the top. Where your father's office would have been, there was a gigantic hole between the ruins and you could see the sky. It looked like an alien invasion. Your body froze into stone as you watched the giant animal-like ships glide through the air. Your father was most likely dead and you could do nothing better than watch in panic at a potential war. You always thought aliens weren't real, but like the rest of humanity, you were probably wrong. "Y/N" your mother's voice sounded from downstairs. She was standing at the foot of the stairs, eyeing you. "Come down, right now!" You had no control over your body but somehow you reached her at the bottom. "Here." she thrust a backpack into your hand and stuffed various things into it before fleeing to the flap under the carpet. She took out all the wads of bills and stuffed them into the backpack as well. "We need to get out of here, fast." She pulled on your dazed body to get to the stairwell. The building shook again and chunks of stone fell on the concrete stairs. "Dad's dead." you finally found your voice again, and it sounded raspy. "I know my darling." she said softly and you felt her hands on your cheek. "But we have to get out of here or we'll die too." Tears smeared in her eyes and you followed her downstairs. The neighbors who were still alive were also heading down to the streets, although this probably wasn't the best idea. There were burning and broken cars on the road. Parts of houses lay scattered on the asphalt. This was the greatest nightmare in the history of the world. You had never experienced anything like it before. Most people were running in one direction, but your mother was looking in the other. "We have to go that way!" You looked at her as if she was also from another planet. "Mom, are you crazy? Isn't that where everything happens?!" You pointed at the explosions and the alien ships. "And that's exactly why no one would suspect us there. We need to find a working car and get out of there. Get the hell out of New York." You nodded and followed your mother through the wreckage. She rattled some car doors, but none of them opened. "Shit," she muttered and looked across the street. "Let's try this." she pointed to the silver SUV. She looked left and right before she ran off. The only mistake your mother made was not looking up. Before she could reach the vehicle, it exploded. The wave hit and you were thrown backwards. There was a ringing in your ears and everything was spinning. Like in slow motion, you raised your head and saw your mother's lifeless body. "Mom." It was still ringing in your ear and you felt something wet flowing down your cheek. "Mom." Breathing flatly, she looked at you and raised her hand trembling.

"Y/N." Blinking, you stared at your fingers. "Y/N" That didn't come from your thoughts. Fingers appeared in front of your eye and snapped. You shook yourself back to reality and Bucky looked at you. "We're here. I parked a few blocks down the street." He pulled the key out of the ignition. "Sorry." you muttered softly and got out in front of him. In your head you went through the file again. "Now I'd like Sam's drone to take a look at this warehouse first," you muttered as you stood in front of the complex. "We'll do it the old-fashioned way," Bucky said without emotion, and proceeded to climb the surrounding rooftops. "I don't have super serum in me to just crawl up walls. It's more of a super soldier or spiderman thing." He looked down at you, his Vibranium arm shining in the sun. "Then take the back door bore." You imagined seeing his mouth wrap twitch before he climbed through a window into the building. Terrified, you stared at the window. He just walked in without you. You crept along the wall to find an open door or window. When you finally found something you could already hear gasping and grunting. Bucky seemed to knock out the opponents without a problem. That's why you set out to find the capsule that Tony wanted. Actually, you didn't like stealing things, but this capsule had already been stolen from Avengers headquarters, so technically it was just a matter of getting it back. Like a cat, you tried to sneak quietly through the storage shelves. Behind a shelf filled with barrels, you looked around the corner. Jackpot. There was this stupid capsule alone in the room. Anticipated, you went to get her out of the warehouse as quickly as possible. Before you got to the capsule, two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. For a moment, you thought Bucky was playing a prank on you, but those arms were about to suffocate you. It took you a second to remember your self-defense. You rammed the guy's elbow in the side and he let you go. You immediately turned around and punched him in the face. He moaned and held his nose. "What fear of losing to a girl?" you joke. "Never" said the dark-haired guy before he pulled out a knife. "That's not fair." You could hardly finish the sentence before he came out. The first few times, you were able to dodge until he caught your rib and you hissed to the floor. "Fuck." you muttered and raised your arm at the last second to fire an electric shock at him. He turned to the ground. You were panting and crawling with the capsule behind the shelf. Thus, potential new attackers would not find you immediately. When you took your hand from the wound, your hand was dyed red. Breathing deeply, you pulled yourself up and clung to the shelf. A move to your right made you twitch and almost hit before you realized it was Bucky.

"Hey. You okay?" Nodding you turned your head to him. "I´m fine." He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Really? That looks painful." „I said I‘m fine.“ The words came out of your mouth harder and louder than you intended. Typical defense strategy. However, Bucky could probably see the tears in your eyes as you pressed your palms to the fabric. "Hey, I'm sorry okay? I really just want to know if everything is okay." "Just a scratch, all right." you swallowed the rest of the emotions down. "Let me see how deep it is." he came a few steps towards you. "We'd better get back."you just answered. "Y/N, please." he looked you right in the eyes the first time and you were amazed at the light blue. He pulled the stretchy fabric apart to see the wound. "It's really not deep, but it should be stitched anyway." his cold metal fingers stroke over your skin, making you twitch. "Come." he took your arm over his shoulder and reached for the pod. "Back to headquarters. We don't want you to die." he grinned and you looked at him in disbelief. "You don't have to be nice to me now just because I'm hurt." He stopped in front of the car and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not just being nice to you…. no." he said seriously after a moment's hesitation. "Why do you usually hate me?" Tears shimmered in your eyes. "I don't hate you, not at all Y/N." he gently lifted you into the car, trying to hurt you as little as possible. "Funny you always treat me like shit though." you tried to laugh but it hurt like hell. "Who do you think leaves books at your door at night after your nightmares." He got in and drove gracefully into traffic heading for New York City. "I always thought Sam did that." you admitted quietly. "No." he muttered. "I do. I have nightmares, too. I know what it's like and I wanted to help you." He looked at the road intently. "Thanks." you whispered, "I like you Y/N I just never knew how to tell you." Your eyes got heavy. "Funny way to express it." Your voice softened and your hand slipped from the wound. "Y/N stay awake. Please stay awake." Bucky voice got louder.

"I think she is waking up," somebody murmured. "Hey they're we've been worried sick." Natasha hovered over you and Sam who was holding your hand smiled big. "Man you scared the shit out of vibranium arm boy." Now you smiled. "Sorry." "Well leave you two alone for a minute." Natasha stood up and took Sam with her. "How you feeling?" Bucky sat down on the chair next to your bed. "I feel pretty good, thanks for the rescue." He sighed. "If I was a bit faster he wouldn't even hurt you." "It is okay Bucky. I am fine. Don't worry. Let´s talk about what you said in the car earlier." you smiled. He chuckled. "Okay darling let's have that talk. But if you tell Sam I have to kill you." He took your hand in his. "First of all I am going to tell you how you flirt in this century now. No cold hearted stares anymore and treating a girl like she's air." He nodded licking his lips. "Got it. Can in kiss you anyways?" "Cheeky bastard,"you laughed out loudly with a slight pinch of pain before his warm and soft lips came crashing onto yours.

Permanent Bucky/Sebastian Taglist:

@aya-fay @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @queenofkings1212 @lilya-petrichor @dexter99 @dystopian-dez382 @xoxoloverb @yougottalovefandoms @justalostgirl

[spyder-anon]

patching up miles after a rough day

earth42! miles / earth1610! miles (aged up!)

miles moralesxblack! female reader

summary: miles visits you late at night once again, hurt and in need of help.

a/n: here’s to my first post! not sure how I feel about it but we all start somewhere. and thank you to bestie @miokienie for giving me the idea! enjoy!

earth42!

you get so sick of this man

he’ll often come to your place when he needs patching up cause he knows uncle aaron will tear him up; not like you won’t either, tho

“come on, mamí, you know you love me.” he’d tell you and grab your waist, pulling you close and resting his thumb along your jaw.

“you got 2 seconds to let go of me before i give you smth else to patch up.”

his tricks never worked, and you scolded him the whole time you were helping him, and he pouted the whole time, too, whining and trying to get you to not be pissed with him.

“mamí~” he would sing song, giving you the most charming voice and smile he could muster. “sonríe para papi, por favor~? (smile for papí, please~?),” or “come on, mamí, don’t look at me like that,” etc. it would never work and would only piss you off more.

“shut up, boy. it’s already too late for this bull, don’t push it.”

then he’d start to get pissed that you were talking to him like that despite him trying— in his own way— to make it better. “ight, ma, you can drop the attitude. you know i gotta do what i gotta do.”

you would stop and raise an eyebrow. “i know you ain’t talkin’ to me,” you’d step back and cross your arms.

“ma, i’m bein’ fr. drop the attitude, i ain’t playin.”

“neither am i.” you’d shake your head and roll your eyes heavy at him. “you see this?,” you pointed to the bonnet on your head, “i was ready to slump— you interrupted that, but i let you cause i love you. but i will get back in that bed and let uncle aaron tear you up, but that’s up to you.”

boy he would get so pissed off when you had the upper hand on him. “ight girl, whatever, jus hurry up” he would huff and cross his arms and turn his head the other way.

he would continue to make smart comments but they didn’t phase you; you knew how he was, and right now he was just bein’ a big baby cause his girl had to put him in his place. ngl, you had to keep yourself from laughing cause it was funny to watch considering how hard he acts otherwise.

“‘mkay, you’re done.” you would stand back with your hands on your hips, sighing after your hard work. “you good, baby? or you gonna keep pouting?”

he would glare at you, angry pout still on his face; most would take that face as a warning sign, but you found it endearing. “ay, cariño.” you’d coo and plant kisses all over his face.

“aye! ma— stop! stop! you play too much!” he would protest, but you knew he liked it.

you would pull away and he’d have a playfully vengeful look on his face. “oh, so it’s like that, huh?” he’d ask, and you’d laugh at him with a grin.

next thing you know, he’s picked you up and throw you over his shoulder; you hit his legs and protest while laughing a little, but your hits do nothing against him.

he lays you down— gently— on the bed and towers over you. “my turn, mama.” he would smirk, and he’d kiss you on the lips, long, soft, and slow. it was his way to show how much he appreciated you, even if he struggled to say it out loud sometimes.

earth1610! miles

this boy would look so guilty as he stood in the middle of your room, suit ripped in different places and bleeding and bruised skin in others.

“miles!” you would fuss, “we’ve talked about this.” you spoke calmly but your tone showed the upset you felt for him. the sight of him hurt would wound you in its own manner.

he rubbed the back of his neck and avoided your gaze. “i know…things just got out of hand tonight…i’m sorry.” he’d look at you with those big brown eyes, genuine guilt swirling throughout them, and your heart would completely melt as it always would. poor boy was doing his best.

you would sigh and kiss his forehead. “its alright, mijo. let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

you would take him to your bathroom and the two of you would sit on the floor. you’d address his wounds while he would recite to you what happened; you always wanted to know if you could.

it was always rough, and your heart felt for him. you wished he didn’t have to exert himself so harshly every night. it only made you worry more about something happening to him.

when you were done, you’d look at him with loving empathy and caress his face. “ay, mi vida..” you would sigh sadly, but miles always gave you that charming, strong smile.

“don’t worry, ma, i’ll be alright. i’ll always be alright. plus,” he would smirk, “i think we make a good team like this. you can be my hot nurse.” he winked. he didn’t want you to worry at all, especially not more than you had to. he would always be okay for your sake, if not for anyone else’s.

you would cringe roll your eyes at his statement and thump his forehead playfully. then, you’d bring him in a warm embrace. “you wanna stay here tonight, hermoso?”

“yeah. yeah i’d like that.” he’d smile softly down at you, wondering how he could ever repay you for all you’ve done for him.

-thank you for being here~!

[mrsnancywheeler]

Okay I think tumblr ate this (b/c it went red :( )but we fr need to talk about how young Billys muse is. 19 is young to be swept up in this world. Like imagine after they meet for the second time they’re making out or something and Billy kinda just pulls away and is like “hold up how old are you?” And she’s like “19.” And goes back to making out.

Also being that young adds to her being shy about media (I liked the shy Drabble) so like Billy even more thinks she just wants attention cause she’s just a young brat

tumblr has been eating up my asks recently like I keep getting double messages so ik some things are getting lost 😭

but like yes, by the time it's all over she's only like 22 and billy is like around 30 when the band breaks up, even eddie is probably around 27 or so, like she's really naive to all of this. like being in a situationship with billy dunne, the lead singer of a famous band at 19, who's struggling with addiction, like that's so, so much. but like she's young and it's probably one of her first serious relationships and his allure is so new and exciting

but like totally, weeks later when she's showing up to another show and he's finally able to get his lips on hers, the thought crosses his mind about how sometimes girls definitely too young to be here sneak in and he doesn't want to be one of those guys, so he's pulling away. "wait, wait, wait, how old are you?"

and you're chasing his lips as he's pulling away because he's so intense and passionate, you've never had something like that before and it's addictive. "19" and he's nodding before his lips are back on yours. and like so quickly he's got your number and is asking you to come over all the time. so you do, and so fast it becomes what feels like a relationship but to billy is more situationship, which you don't realize until he cheats on you

going back to that blurb too, it adds a layer to how she responds and he talks to her. like he's suddenly talking down to her and laying it down and she feels like there's nothing she can do, she's young and stupid. and then she's leaving and pissed. but he's going on and on explaining to her that this is what it's like to be a groupie as she's new at this, that she's just a pretty face, that she can't be entitled and throw fits to get him back, but like then not long after he's showing up.

she's at a diner with friends and he's "accidentally" bumping into her and asks her to step outside to talk for a second. and when you do, he's instantly saying how, "need my girl with me at the studio, just been so stressful recently and need my pretty girl back at the studio. missed having you around, baby."

and no one's ever said something like that so you're falling for it with little resistance, "missed you too, billy, wanna be around you." his lips back on yours and he makes you feel like putty in his hands. and he's taking you out on dates that wow you. and writing songs about you that have your jaw dropping, so you're back in the fantasy of billy dunne.

yes and with the shy addition it just makes it so much harder.

"your daddy's fucking rich, you're in the papers all the damn time. can't throw a tantrum because I don't portray you as perfect"

you're shaking your head, "no, only if I show up with my dad somewhere, or you, or they like my clothes. this is things I said billy, people can't know that. my dad-"

"your dad, what? time to grow up, baby, you're an adult, act like one. daddy can't come and fix everything for you, sometimes there's consequences for our actions" he's so condescending, so demeaning

"what actions?" you're crying

"you knew exactly what you were getting into when you showed up to that show, you wanted to fuck the lead singer and you kept coming back. if you're a whiny and entitled, then I can write about it, it's my job."

you're shaking your head, "wanna go home. I'm going home, fuck you, billy"

"such a goddamn child, don't come back here. there's no room for spoiled little girls who want me to spoon feed them from a silver fucking platter"

he does bring you back and still releases a song about how turbulent your relationship is

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XIV.

GIF by iamasaddie

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Finally working through and talking out all the bullshit.

WORD COUNT: ~6.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: nightmare sequence at the beginning, a character throws up but it's not graphic or anything, a lot of self reflection in this chap, more angst :p but it's pretty much resolved in the end, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: the way i stayed up till 3 am the other night with my face glued to the screen while writing The Talk™... i hope it did it justice fr i was eating that shit up !!! shoutout to javi for finally doing something about his toxicity. here's a little playlist i made to help me write this chap if anyone is interested <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Paloma finds herself in the middle of that dense, eerie swamp in Louisiana. The air is thick with humidity, and a heavy fog blankets the ground, making it difficult to see. Tall cypress trees loom overhead, their gnarled roots twisting out of the murky water like skeletal fingers. The distant sounds of nocturnal creatures fill the air, a symphony of croaks, hisses, and splashes that only heighten her sense of dread.

She steps cautiously, the wet ground squelching beneath her feet. Suddenly, the earth gives way, and she plunges into the dark, stagnant water. The cold liquid envelops her, and she struggles to keep her head above the surface, feeling the pull of the mud below. Panic sets in as she flails, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees it—a massive alligator, its eyes glowing menacingly in the dim light. The beast moves silently, gliding through the water with terrifying grace. Its gaze locks onto her, and her heart pounds in her chest. She tries to swim away, but the water is thick, clinging to her limbs like a living thing. Her breaths come in ragged gasps, and she can feel the creature closing in, its powerful jaws opening wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth.

Just as she feels all hope slipping away, she spots Javier on the bank of the swamp. Relief floods through her, and she calls out to him, her voice trembling with fear. “Javier, help me! Please!” He looks at her, a moment of recognition and concern flashing across his face. He reaches out a hand, and for a brief second, she believes she is saved.

But then, his expression changes. Doubt, hesitation, and then cold indifference take over. He withdraws his hand, stepping back from the edge. “No! What are you doing?!” she screams, desperation and betrayal filling her voice. He shakes his head, backing away slowly, leaving her to her fate.

The alligator lunges, its massive jaws snapping shut just inches from her. She tries to scream, but the sound is swallowed by the swamp. The creature’s weight presses her down, and she feels herself being dragged into the depths. The water closes over her head, cold and dark, as she fights for her life, her lungs burning for air.

She wakes with a gasp, sitting up straight and immediately feeling the weight of her hangover. Pressing her palm into her eye, she blindly reaches over to grab the glass of water on her nightstand and drinks it down thirstily, some of it spilling onto her shirt.

Then she begins to hurl, a violent lurch in her stomach sending her scrambling for the bin she keeps by her desk. She grabs it just in time, retching forcefully and emptying her stomach into the container. The sounds of her heaving fill the quiet room and she feels the bitter taste of bile burn her throat.

After what feels like an eternity but is only a few minutes, the spasms subside. She pulls back, her body trembling from the exertion, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

Paloma doesn’t remember the last time she had a nightmare that felt so real. She used to have them regularly, coupled with instances of sleepwalking. Her parents would find her violently sobbing on the porch or wandering through the house.

Those terrifying episodes seemed to have faded with her teenage years, replaced by the more mundane anxieties of adult life. Surely the one she’s just awoke from was triggered by all the bullshit she’s endured as of late.

Speaking of, last night’s recollections come flooding back, but she blocks them immediately, first wanting to deal with the pounding in her head.

With a grunt, she quietly maneuvers down the hall, careful not to wake her father. The clock reads seven a.m., so he’s been home maybe an hour. He usually sleeps through the morning.

The house is still, the only sounds coming from her own shuffling feet and the soft creaks of the floorboards beneath her.

Still itching for that bath, she lets the water run while she brushes her teeth with one eye closed. She reaches for more painkillers from the medicine cabinet, shaking out two pills and swallowing them dry. She knows she shouldn’t be taking them on an empty stomach, but at this point, she doesn’t care. The throbbing in her head and the ache in her stomach demand immediate relief.

Once the tub is filled with steaming water, she sheds her clothes and sinks into the comforting heat. The water envelops her, washing away some of the lingering dread from her nightmare.

She closes her eyes, letting the warmth seep into her bones. The early morning sun filters through the nearby window, casting a soft, golden glow over her. It feels like a gentle caress, a reminder that the world outside her mind is still turning, still filled with light and promise.

She finally allows those pesky thoughts to infiltrate. Just in case she wants to drown herself in this bathtub from the sheer humiliation of it all.

She can excuse everything up until the point that Javier showed up. Her and her bad fucking habit of making a fool out of herself when he’s around.

“Why do I have to feel things?” she says out loud, the frustration evident in her voice.

All she wanted to do was drink and pretend that it’s not constantly one thing after another; each event more painful than the last.

She closes her eyes, the memory of the argument that followed her and Javi’s first hookup playing in her mind like a broken record. His cruel words hit her again, the viciousness of them something that she’ll never forget.

Then she thinks about everything that came after that—the tension, the distance between them, her relationship with August, the obliteration of her friendship with Sloane. It’s all so overwhelming. She wishes she could just get in her car and drive. Drive until Seminary is nothing more than a speck in her rearview mirror.

But she can’t. She’s stuck dealing with this, hoping she’ll get over it soon. Things like this take time, they’re not fixed overnight her conscience whispers. She just rolls her eyes in response, discouraged by the slow, grinding process that is figuring your shit out.

Is Javier really what she wants to pursue? They’re toxic, she knows it, but the pull towards him is something she can’t easily dismiss even when she tried.

Would he ever be honest? That’s all she’s wanted from him this entire time.

Last night he somewhat opened up to her. Revealing just a minuscule of the over abundant tensions that cloud his judgement. But was that enough?

Oh to rewind time to before everything blew up, when things seemed simpler, less fraught with emotional landmines.

The hours they spent getting to know each other while he followed her around town despite it annoying her since he’d been stuck on her by her father. Teasing him about his obscure knowledge of card games while he was under the hood of the car, fixing it for her. The night at the fair in its entirety. How much it had felt like a real date.

These are amongst the many mundane moments that made her fall for him. The gestures that spoke volumes about who he really is. They are fragments of happiness that remind her of the potential for something real between them.

If only she could navigate through the mess he’s made of everything.

Paloma’s forgiving nature has always been somewhat of a downfall for her, and she wonders why she finds it so hard to let go of people who hurt her. Growing up in a religious town like Seminary, she’s been taught the virtues of forgiveness and compassion. Her father’s overprotectiveness and the loss of her mother contribute to her inclination to avoid conflict and maintain peace at all costs.

She wants to hold onto her compassionate nature, but also knows she needs to protect herself from further hurt. The bathwater ripples gently as she shifts, her thoughts swirling as chaotically as her emotions. Maybe she does need a few days to really think about it.

Last night, she’d been so set on talking things through then and there; but as she reflects on the situation in its entirety now, she’s realizing just how much shit Javier has put her through.

The road ahead may be uncertain, but she’s determined to find her way, even if it means leaving him behind. She needs to make a choice that aligns with her well-being. 

The water around her grows cooler, but she stays, staring at the ceiling. She imagines the open road, the freedom of leaving everything behind.

For now, she’ll finish her bath, dress, and face the day with the strength she’s always had but sometimes forgets.

Making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, she stops in her tracks when she sees her father, still in his uniform, sitting at the table.

Surprised to see him awake considering he’s just worked an entire overnight shift, Paloma eyes him warily as she slowly walks over to the fridge. She opens it, peering inside to see what she can concoct to rid herself of this tequila induced hangover.

With her being so flighty recently and their escalating arguments because of it, she can’t remember the last time she and her father were in the same room without some kind of tension between them.

“What are you doin’ up?” She breaks the silence first, pulling out eggs and vegetables for her breakfast.

“Just… thinkin’. Have a good night?”

“Guess you can say that.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air.

“How’s the hangover?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

So he knows.

“Expected and present,” she responds, managing a weak smile of her own.

He chuckles softly, and her shoulders relax a little, the tension easing just a bit.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His voice is gentle, tender, halting her in the middle of her food prep.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She cringes at the lack of conviction in her voice, knowing he’ll catch it immediately.

“Because you haven’t been actin’ like yourself lately.”

She knows this, yet she can’t help but ask, “What do you mean?”

He lets out a sigh, and she tenses briefly, thinking she’s just triggered something as he stands from his seat and joins her at the kitchen island.

“You really gonna stand here ‘n try to fool your old man?”

He’s right and she knows it. Their gazes meet, and he can see the myriad of emotions swimming in his daughter’s brown eyes. The sadness, the confusion, the pain—it’s all there.

She won’t tell him anything. She can’t because she doesn’t even know what to make of it.

Though, if she ever did find the right words, he’d still never understand the scope of things, especially not when they involve his dead wife.

“If you don’t wanna tell me, I respect that,” he begins, his voice softer now. “And I know I don’t ever make it any easier on you. I’m a hardass. Honestly a goddamn wonder that you haven’t totally rebelled on me yet. Know I was givin’ my own folks hell ‘round your age. Shit, since before then.”

Paloma swallows thickly, distracting herself by turning the stove on and continuing with her task. She does appreciate the fact that he’s leading this conversation right now.

“I shouldn’t be so hard on you. S’just that… well, shit, no father ever wants to let his little girl go, but me especially in these tryin’ times with the neverendin’ fuckin’ cases and a nutjob runnin’ around killin’ pretty girls. I don’t know what I’d do if somethin’ were to happen to you, honey.”

She sighs softly. “I know, Daddy. Sometimes I just… I just need you to tone it down a little. Makes me feel like I’m suffocatin’. S’why I’ve been in and out of the house so much. Tryna get some breathin’ room…”

That’s all she’ll give him, which technically isn’t a lie nor deviates from how she actually feels. He nods in understanding.

“And last night? At the bar? What was that all about? Saw your car in the lot on my way home from work, so I called Tammy ‘n she told me you were too drunk to drive home.”

She can’t blame the older woman for telling him. At least she spared him the details.

“Me ‘n Slo had a fallin’ out. Don’t think she’ll be comin’ ‘round here that much no more. Had one drink too many.”

That’s one thing she’s absolutely certain about. Paloma was already hesitant about Sloane (the whole crew, really) after her attitude in Louisiana. But when she decided to fuck Javier and then brag about it to her face, it cemented her decision. There is no doubt in her mind that she doesn’t want to continue their friendship.

Now why the fuck can’t she be as resolute when it comes to Javier?

Her father doesn’t press her about it and she appreciates that. The topic of how things have been at the house as of late isn’t brought up again; leaving them in a gray area that she doesn’t even mind being in.

She simply doesn’t have the willpower to add more to the baggage she’s currently lugging. She’ll tackle her intricate ass daddy issues another day.

He promises to take her to get her car later in the afternoon, and that’s when she notices her keys sitting on the kitchen counter. Javier must’ve left them behind after practically tucking her in last night.

Ugh, his ability to be tender at the drop of a hat. Either he’s just that bad at regulating his emotions or he’s just that committed to being the most confusing human being on the fucking planet.

Romeo dips off to finally get some rest and she messies up the kitchen making her breakfast. Feeling a little more grounded after her meal, she spends the rest of her morning wallowing in contemplation on the hammock.

Had she been too cruel in throwing his past back in his face in the middle of her angry, drunken state? She doesn’t know a goddamn thing about his life down in South America… so maybe it was wrong of her to assume the worst.

It’s just another confusing path in the labyrinth that is Javier Peña’s character.

The light morning breeze is a gentle reprieve as she swings softly, the rhythmic motion helping soothe her frazzled nerves while more thoughts begin to swarm her.

When she cuts Slo off, she’ll have to cut August off in association, and that’s another complication. Another knot in the web of her life that she decides to table for the moment.

Paloma really wants to get her shit figured out with Javier first.

All of this reflection fills her with a very indescribable feeling that she isn’t sure what to make of. What she does know, though, is that she’s definitely going to need a few more days to spend time with herself in order to get her ducks in a row.

He doesn’t hear from her for almost two weeks. He hadn’t expected the silence, especially not with how eager she was to fix things the last time they were together.

Then again, she was very drunk and off tequila too–– the worst type of drunk.

And for the first few days, he was okay with the distance. He preferred it, even. They both needed time to regroup before seeing each other again.

But then more days passed and he grew antsy. Maybe she’d already made her decision and decided to say fuck him. Cut him off cold turkey.

That’s what he deserves, after all. He really has been a giant asshole. Piece of shit. Sleazy bastard. Any derogatory term you can think of for a man.

So when he sees her sauntering out of her father’s office as he’s coming in for the night, his heart skips a beat and his entire body tenses but he plays it off, clearing his throat.

“Officer.” She greets him nonchalantly and it digs deep, for some reason.

“Miss Leighton.”

They lock eyes, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings filling the space between them. Uncertainty drowns their gaze, each second stretching into an eternity, until Romeo appears, breaking the spell.

“Alright m’out. Takin’ this one out for dinner. Nothin’ new ‘round here except for them fancy toys you ordered months ago finally arrivin’.” 

Javier nods, half-listening, his mind racing as he struggles to ignore the intense look Paloma is giving him.

“Sounds good. Enjoy your night.”

They leave, and as the door closes behind them, he releases a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of seeing her again. 

“Oh crap, forgot somethin’ in your office. Be right back!” She lies, leaving her dad waiting by his truck.

A minute, if that, passes before the door swings open again and she walks back in.

“There’s a rickety path that leads to a clearin’ behind the cemetery. Meet me there tomorrow at lunch time.” 

His fingers flex out of instinct, a nervous tick of his, as he eyes her. He genuinely wonders if she gets more beautiful by the day or if he’s just that entranced by her.

“I’m assuming you’re ready to talk things out?”

“No, Javier, I wanna go apple pickin’,” she retorts sarcastically, rolling her eyes. He has to suppress the small smile that threatens to pull at his lips at her wit. “Just… be there. Okay?” Her voice softens, fleeting vulnerability seeping through her confident exterior.

He nods. “I’ll be there.”

She’s already there when he arrives, her figure framed by the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves of the towering oak tree.

The serene backdrop of the grassy land seems at odds with the disarray that clouds over them.

“Hey,” his voice breaks the quiet hum of the chirping insects and she turns slowly to meet his gaze, offering a small nod in acknowledgment.

They stand there awkwardly, neither knowing how to begin.

“Why––”

“I’m––”

They lock eyes, and he gestures for her to speak first, he needs her to lead the conversation so he can figure out how to navigate it without fumbling it entirely.

“Why Sloane?” She blurts out, the question burning in her mind amidst all the other crap.

He sighs heavily, the sound echoing in the tense silence. Okay, so that’s where she wants to start, he thinks, scratching his jaw nervously as he searches for words that won’t sound like a feeble excuse.

“Severe lapse of judgment,” he begins, his voice tight with self-disgust. “I had a really shitty day that night I went to the bar. She was there, and I was more focused thinking with my dick than about how it would affect you. I figured you wouldn’t give a damn because of August,” his name leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, tone straining as he says it, “So I just... did it. Thought it would make me feel better—or at least give me clarity to get back to work. It always did the trick back then so why not now? But all it did was make me feel like shit.”

He doesn’t mention how he’d seen her face in the files from Rome, and that’s what sparked him to get out. How she was overshadowing every single thought in his already chaotic mind.

“Do you regret it?” Her voice is steady but her eyes betray her uncertainty.

“Absolutely,” Javier responds without hesitation, his sincerity ringing clear in his tone.

“How do I know you’re not just sayin’ that to get on my good side again?”

“You’re just going to have to take my word for it,” he replies earnestly yet lamely.

“Your word means jack shit right now. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

A bird call is heard in the distance along with the gentle hum of cicadas. 

“She meant—she means nothing to me. It was a one-time thing.” He continues after the pause.

“... Did you enjoy it?”

He swallows hard, feeling her gaze like a weight on his chest, analyzing every twitch and hesitation.

“It was just sex, Paloma,” he says finally, “Yes, I enjoyed it.”

She grimaces at the blunt honesty of his admission. It’s a bitter truth to swallow, one that she brought upon herself by asking.

More silence follows and he breaks it again. He’s never been this responsive, absolutely word vomiting and it feels out of character. But it’s for the best.

“I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you like that, cariño. For everything.”

Her heart flutters at the familiar endearment. How she’s missed hearing it.

“I wanted to avoid all of this. Wanted to avoid hurting you but my goddamn impulsivity fucked it all up. I never learn but… but, fuck,” he admits with frustration, his fingers running through his hair and taking off his aviators to rub at the bridge of his nose. 

She watches him closely, absorbing every nuance of his expression— the way his brow furrows with self-reproach, the slight tremble in his hands.

“But I want to learn. There’s nothing holding me back from trying anymore.” Nothing except himself.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? Is this even worth it anymore?” Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, but the weight of her question reverberates between them.

His pulse quickens as he grapples with his own desires and doubts. He wants to stride over to her, to cup her soft face in his calloused hands and tell her that he wants her, that he wants to be with her. But he has no idea how the fuck he’s going to make that happen amidst the mess he’s created.

All the rehearsed arguments and practiced monologues dissolve into the present moment as she waits for his response, her heart pounding in her chest. Before she can even think, her mouth opens and words spill out.

“I was all for it that night in my room and every night before then. Even if it was subconscious, I wanted nothing more than to be with you.”

He exhales slowly, his hands resting on his hips, tension evident in his posture.

“But, fuck, are you hard to deal with,” she presses on, her voice a mix of frustration and affection.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to see all this time. I’m not a good person, Paloma.”

Her eyes search his. “But you are,” she defends softly. “You just do bad things.”

He scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I can’t even explain it to myself.”

“Try to. You have to stop using that as an excuse to just get by.”

His jaw tenses. She’s hit a nerve, and he knows she’s right. He can’t keep avoiding responsibility for his actions with empty excuses.

“I’ve killed people.” It being so simply put makes the statement that more impactful. “Hurt even more. Like you said; I barely got reprimanded for it, but that doesn’t make the guilt go away. I don’t deserve half of the things I have.”

Paloma’s breath catches in her throat, stunned into silence by his stark admission. She urges him to continue with a silent look, her eyes pleading for him to share more, to let her into the depths of his turmoil.

“I’m not sayin’ that to get pity. It’s just how it is. Thought comin’ to Seminary would make things easier. That it’d help me sort through my bullshit. Then I met you.”

Her heart twists with emotion inside her chest.

“And of course like the fucking dog that I am, the first thing I thought of was how pretty you’d look under me.”

As if she hadn’t had similar thoughts upon first laying eyes on him. Her thighs rub together involuntarily. She knows the appeal of forbidden desire all too well, the magnetic pull of attraction despite rationality.

“I’m not here to fix you, Javier. You have to do that on your own.”

Her words are a poignant reminder of boundaries and self-preservation. He needs to hear this.

“Yeah, and it’s a lot fucking harder than I thought.” His scoff is laced with self-deprecation, “Sometimes I wonder if I can even be fixed.”

Paloma fights the urge to push herself off the tree and approach him, to offer comfort and reassurance. Instead, she picks at some of the loose bark on the trunk, grounding herself. Focus, girl, she tells herself. She cannot lose herself in trying to save him.

“Don’t be so pessimistic. Anyone can be fixed. S’just the process that weeds out those who mean it from those who don’t. If you genuinely want to be better, Javi, you will be. It’s all up to you. Not me, not your hookups, not your job. Just. You.”

His heart hammers against his ribcage, adam’s apple bobbing, her words penetrating deep into his soul.

“Knew I was in for somethin’ my first night here,” he mutters, slipping his sunglasses back on, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and self-doubt, gaze lowering to the toe of his boot.

Her eyebrows quirk slightly and he continues. “You know how wrong it is for someone like me to be pining after someone like you? I’m older—”

“—Not that much older.”

“—I’m older than you and your father’s subordinate. That in itself is problematic.”

“But is that really the worst thing in the world? So what if there’s an age gap? So what if you work with my daddy?”

She’s trying to make sense of it all, to understand his perspective but she’s struggling.

“It’s more than that…”

Her dumbfounded stare prompts him to continue, to untangle his thoughts.

“M’not good at romance if it isn’t just sex. I spent years in Colombia convincing myself that it’s easier to just fuck and move on. Never bothered to deal with the emotional bullshit that came along with being with someone.” Recollections of distant beds and fleeting connections cloud his mind.

The one time he almost attempted to actually give it a shot, Helena had been hurt beyond anything he could’ve fathomed because of his operation. The memory grips at his heart.

“Probably why I can’t nurture a healthy fuckin’ relationship to save my life; so I was tryin’ to spare you from all that hurt but I just ended up fucking you over ten times worse and I’m going to have to live with that.”

Karma made sure to come back and collect.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, it’s been me all along and I’m sorry for puttin’ those doubts and insecurities into your head.” He has to reassure her that she’s never, ever been the problem.

Paloma begged for honesty, and now, faced with his vulnerability and sincerity and apology, she feels her resolve wearing thin. But she knows she has to keep her backbone.

Allowing him back into her heart so easily is a dangerous game.

“Everythin’ you said that night at Abbott’s party…” She trails off, hoping he can infer what she’s asking.

“Didn’t mean any of it. I stupidly thought pushing you away and being cruel would piss you off so you’d leave on your own instead of staying and trying to convince me that we,” he motions between them, drawing closer to her, “were somethin’ worth exploring.”

“Do you actually want me?”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he looks at her, so pretty leaning against the tree with anticipation written across her face, her brown eyes glazed over.

“I do.” The admission feels heavy on his tongue, “But I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

Paloma snorts. “So that’s it then?”

He shrugs, rubbing at the tense spot at the back of his neck. The summer heat and topics of discussions cling to him uncomfortably, the curls at the nape of his neck damp with sweat.

She lets out an exasperated groan. “You are the most infuriating, confusing, enigma of a man Javier Peña.”

“And you make everything sound so easy.”

“Because it can be.”

He shakes his head. “Nothin’ about us is easy, querida.”

“Not in this moment, no, but it can be. If we actually try…” She trails off, biting down on her lower lip.

That is what he wants. To try. He just told her himself.

“Yeah so Romeo can run me out of town for foolin’ around with his daughter?”

“There you go with the excuses,” she reprimands, “My daddy would get over it. I feel like I’m finally startin’ to make progress with him. If… if this actually ends up being somethin’ then he’s just goin’ to have to deal with it. He can’t control me forever.”

Javier works his jaw, he can feel the determination that seeps from her.

He no longer has the danger of his agent job looming over him, keeping him from making the effort to live a normal life. He no longer has to worry about endangering the women he’s with. He no longer has to worry about putting anyone else in harms way.

All he has now is a woman who has weathered his storms and shortcomings with unwavering honesty. A woman who’s done nothing but be her authentic self this entire time.

“But you’ve hurt me so bad. S’gonna take some real convincin’ for me to believe that you’re actually serious about us and not usin’ me as some way to make yourself feel better.”

He’s not going to fuck this up. He’s not going to push anymore.

“I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you, cariño.” He leans his shoulder against the tree besides her, close enough to where he can smell the citrus scent of her body spray as a breeze flows by.

“Do you really mean that?” She whispers, her entire body buzzing as she turns to mimic his position.

“With my entire heart.”

She shudders, looking away from him before she melts under the sincere gaze of his sad yet beautiful brown eyes.

His stare lingers on her side profile, taking her in from this angle.

“Y’know… I hate that even after everythin’ you’ve put me through, my heart still races when you’re around ‘n all I can think about is kissin’ you all the time.”

“Paloma…”

“I’m stronger than so much… except for you. S’like you’re a magnetic force and I’m a fucking… fridge magnet, I dunno. Just attracted and stuck on ya all the time.”

His expression eases, his eyes growing tender. He feels unworthy of her attraction.

“So I get drunk ‘n pretend like I’m over it, but that’s far from the truth. I self destruct then act like a complete idiot. S’why I try not to drink as often but with… well, everythin’ recently, that’s been a battle in it of itself.”

He’s been the main driving force of all her hardships, and no apology will ever truly relay how much he regrets all of it.

Javier reaches out tentatively, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes of his desire to make things right.

Her skin tingles at the affectionate touch and she doesn’t make the effort to pull away.

“I want to be better for you, palomita. I want to be the man you deserve,” he confesses, his voice low and filled with determination, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her skin.

She looks at him, her eyes finally meeting his again, seeing the earnestness and hope reflected in his gaze. She allows herself to believe in the possibility of a future where they can navigate through the wreckage of it all, together.

“Entonces muéstrame (then show me).”

Nights pass before she sees him again. She’s crouched low to the ground, shelving some science nonfiction books about astronomy when he walks in. It’s past closing time, and he’s surprised to find the front door unlocked. The thought of her being alone in the building when anyone could just walk in when they’re not supposed to unsettles him.

He lingers at the end of the row, watching her with adoration. Despite the blazing heat outside, she’s wearing an oversized cardigan over her maxi dress. The A/C is finally working again, making the library feel like an icebox.

The dim, soft lighting casts a gentle glow around her as she works, her delicate fingers deftly placing each book in its rightful spot. He can’t help but admire the way her hair cascades down her back, the cardigan hanging off her shoulder as she moves. For a moment, he’s lost in the simple beauty of the scene.

After a few more minutes of him just admiring her, he clears his throat to announce his presence. She shoots up from her crouched position, spinning around to face him while her hand clutches at the pendant around her neck.

“Javier,” her eyes widen in surprise, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips despite her heartbeat echoing in her ears.“What are you doin’ here?”

“I was on my way home,” he replies, stepping closer. “And saw you were here. Didn’t like the idea of you being alone… and I wanted to see you.”

Her heart flutters at his concern, but she quickly steels herself, still feeling emotionally sore from his hurt. “M’fine,” she says, though her voice wavers slightly.

He notices the small tremor and it twists something inside him. “I know you are,” he affirms gently. “But I still worry.”

With every reason to. Just because there hasn’t been any activity in the realm of the ongoing homicide cases, doesn’t mean that there isn’t a deranged person out there just waiting to strike again.

“You should really keep that front door, or any door, locked after hours,” he tells her after a moment, his voice carrying a gentle reprimand.

She catches her breath once he’s closer, smoothing her palms against the fabric of her dress. “I lost track of time. I usually do lock it,” she defends herself, moving back to the almost finished cart of books.

He follows her down the row, the cart between them as he watches her do her job. His presence is brooding in the small space, the scent of cigarette smoke and musk of his cologne lingering around him. It throws her off just slightly.

She’s asked him to show her that he’s trying for them, and now he’s here, doing just that. Seeing him actually making an effort has her knees weakening and stomach erupting in nervous butterflies.

“I also figured you’d be the person to ask for some book recommendations,” he tries to sound casual. Flirting isn’t usually this awkward for him.

He just has to get used to being around her like this again.

She laughs, a light and genuine sound that makes his lips quirk up into a small smile. “Right, right. If I remember correctly, you’re into spy novels.” She continues her task, movements quick and practiced.

“Give or take, yeah,” he replies, licking his lips and eyeing the shelves around them.

“Don’t ya get tired with all the real-life mysteries you deal with? Gotta read ‘bout ‘em too?” She asks with a hint of teasing curiosity.

“Which is why I’m coming to you for some new material.”

“Huh— Okay. Got anythin’ specific in mind?” She questions, her eyes meeting his.

He’s absolutely bullshitting, so he grabs the first book he sees at the top of her cart. “Yeah, something like this.”

Night Sky: A Field Guide to the Constellations

“Oh really? You into stars and planets now?” She humors him, her tone playful.

“Told you I was looking for somethin’ new.”

She pauses and looks at him, amusement dancing in her gaze. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Trying not to be, actually.”

She playfully rolls her eyes as he mindlessly flips through the pages. “See, there’s a lot of interesting information in here.”

“Well, there’s a lotta interestin’ information about space. It’s just like the ocean. So vast. Unfathomable, sometimes.”

She blushes slightly at the way he’s looking at her, reaching for the book in his hand.

“Well, let me try to make some sense of it to help you get a better understanding.” He pulls it out of her reach, and she raises a brow at him, retreating.

That’d actually be kind of sweet, for him to genuinely get into a topic he couldn’t care less for just for her.

“Ha, yeah, okay. I know you were just messin’ around. Now let me put that where it goes so I can get home. Gotta get up early to help get things together for the barbecue.”

Fourth of July is this upcoming weekend, and as they always do, the sisters from the bar host the annual barbecue down at their lake house that’s tucked away deep in the woods that surround town.

The turn out is always great. It’s sort of become the unofficial way of celebrating the holiday here in Seminary.

Lots of activities to pass the day, hella fireworks, good food and even better company. Her only apprehension comes from running into Mayor Jonah Abbott and his perpetual attempts at trying to court her.

“Maybe I was, but I’m into it now,” he shrugs and she lets it be. “Tammy and Kristy both called begging me to go to that.”

“Are you?”

“Kinda have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay then, I want to. I offered to help set up.”

She finishes putting away the last book on her cart. “Guess I’ll see ya there.” Now she’s a little more excited about it. The prospect of spending some lighthearted time with him making her feel giddy but she won’t show it so easily.

Paloma begins to make her way to the circulation desk and he follows behind her.

“Are you actually serious about the book or is this a long con?” She teases as he leans forward against the desk, handing it over to her.

“I’m serious about it.”

She narrows her gaze just a bit before going through the checkout process.

His eyes trace her countenance, mentally doting on her beauty marks and freckles. The plump flesh of her lips and how he wants to kiss and nip at them.

Then his gaze falls on the intricate detailing of her necklace. It shares some similarities to one he saw amidst the chaos in the Rome files.

But every crucifix necklace looks the same to him.

“All set. Enjoy your reading. Remember, it’s due back in two weeks. If you need any assistance or want to extend your borrowing period, feel free to ask.”

She goes through the typical script, just as she would with any other patron, but there’s a subtle flirtatious lilt to it. It snaps him out of his observance.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Let me walk you out to your car.”

She nods, telling him to wait here as she finishes closing up. He watches her as if she’s the most fascinating thing in the world, his eyes following her every movement as she gathers her things. They head out together, the library’s lights dimming behind them as they step out into the night.

The air is cool, the only sound is the soft crunch of their footsteps on the gravel as they cross the parking lot. When they reach her car, he steps forward to open the door for her. She pauses, looking up at him, her heart fluttering.

“Thanks for walkin’ me out,” she tells him softly, eyes reflecting the dim glow of the parking lot lights.

“Anytime,” he replies, his voice matching her timbre.

They lock gazes, weaving a wordless conversation that only they can understand. 

“I’ll see you this weekend,” she slides into the driver’s seat, feeling the warmth of his eyes on her. 

He nods in acknowledgement and closes the door carefully, lingering for a moment as she starts the car. Paloma glances at him one last time, and he gives her a small, reassuring smile, the book held tightly in his grasp as he watches her drive away.

[cherriesncinnamon]

hope you're okay / ethan landry x fem!reader

synopsis: following an unbearable breakup, ethan sees the girl he made the mistake of losing, and he's not willing to make the same one twice.

warnings/tags: pre ghostface, mentions of underage drinking.

word count: 1.5k.

a/n: omg not smut for once! what a shock. but fr, this is a once in a lifetime event.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"i hope you're okay." she says, periodically breaking eye contact, unable to bring herself to look into ethan's doe eyes, heart filled with grief. it was mutual, they say, not strong enough to string everything into words.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

university house parties were never her thing, it would always end with one of her best friends throwing up, or some creep trying to hit on her, so, it was always her and ethan at home, happy to be alone for once. in the absence of him, mindy managed to convince her to tag along, despite her reluctancy at the off chance that he would be there too. it had been well over a month, and the feelings she had numbed were slowly calming. although the thought of his sweet face stung, it was for the best, she thought, unconvinced of her own feeble attempt at reassurance.

ethan enters the bustling house, following behind chad like a lost puppy, as awkward as ever. he couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach, nervous that he would struggle to conceal his pain if someone let her name slip from their mouth, or even worse, she was there herself. chad nudges ethan's arm, inconvenienced by his continuous dismay. chad is ready to forget her, and is urgent to force the memory of her out of his roommate's mind. still, ethan isn't ready to move on, the sensation of her lips against his, and the warmth of her comfort lingering on his skin.

he sees her first, across the living room among the abundance of drunk students, sipping carefully at a can of cherry coke, her favourite. instantaneously, his heart palpitates at the sheer sight of her. she looks even more beautiful than the day he last saw her, something he thought wasn't possible. her hair is lightly draped to one side, strands darkened under the lights. ethan stopped in his tracks, chad tries to snap him out of his trance, yet he cannot look away.

it's not long before she feels a familiar demeanour in her presence, not to mention the omniscient feeling of eyes fixed on her. she meets his gaze, breath drawing back immediately when she’s given what she has missed so dearly. she doesn’t move an inch, observing as he's taken away from her sight, chad dragging him by his bicep, and into the packed kitchen.

she places her hand on her warm chest to calm herself, pulse vibrating against her palm, heart rate showing no signs of slowing down. anika and mindy are too busy downing tequila shots to notice her distressed state, her peace ruined by a single gaze. the relentless critical voice in her mind shuns her dramatics in response to ethan’s attendance, but it’s as if there’s a force he has over her that she crumbles under.

“what’s up with you? you went quiet all of a sudden. c’mon, let’s get a drink.” anika speaks, taking her hand, and stumbling drunkly into the packed hallway before she can even speak a word of resistance.

in the kitchen, ethan’s holding a cold beer, not taking any sips because of the tightness in his throat, his jaw muscles clenching his teeth to relieve his anxiety. he stands silently, smiling weakly at the people around him who bounce to the beat of music. dissociating, ethan stares out into the crowd, thoughts filled with nothing but her.

"you need to get over her, man, it's been over a month. plus, there's plenty of girls who would wanna piece of you!" chad assures, pointing to a group of beautiful girls standing near the drinks. ethan looks over to them for a moment, feeling no satisfaction at the sight of their short skirts, and dolled-up faces. they were futile in comparison to her.

"okay, here, loosen up! m'gonna go and see tara, she's coming in now. be right back." anika hands her a plastic red cup of punch, quickly running off in a drunk energy rush to tara's aid. the syrupy cocktail of alcohol meets with her lips, the burning sensation in her throat following not long after. she fears that ethan would be standing in her eyeline when she turns her back to leave the room, though she's brave enough to do it, trying to lie to herself that she truly is over him.

and of course, like some cosmic joke, there he was, already having his eyes set on her. warm lights shine directly above him, brightening his cinnamon brown eyes staring back at her. their breakup left no fury, or hatred, and therefore they had no reason to be vengeful to one another, so her lips upturn into a smile; a sign of respect. it was mutual, they say, but is it really mutual if neither one desired it?

"hey." ethan walks up to her, breaking a month long silence between them with one single word, conflicted to say another. her eyes widen, and she clears her throat, replying hey in a soft tone.

"can we talk?" he questions, biting the insides of his cheeks in apprehension. she contemplates, ultimately deciding that some closure will be beneficial for actually moving on.

"sure. we could go upstairs if you want?" she proposes, to his nod of agreement. ethan follows behind her up the stairs, and along the corridors, looking through doorways to find a vacant room. finally, a bathroom opens up.

once they're inside, she locks the door behind her before perching herself on the edge of the bathtub in some random guy's guest bath. ethan remains standing, lower back resting on the sink. they sit in complete silence for way too long, not knowing where to start, or what to say.

"how've you been?" ethan eventually asks, hoping she was going be completely honest with him.

"fine. i mean, as fine as you can be with university assignments. how have you been?" she laughs as she talks, hiding her genuine state of mind. she was not fine, if anything, the complete opposite. tortured, for use of a better word.

"yeah, me too. fine." he doesn't elaborate on why he needs to speak with her, just glad to be in her presence after their separation. she fixes her dress so that it covers more of her thighs, insecure under his eyes, shy to expose any inch of skin in front of the one person who has seen it all. it's a foreign emotion, and she's overwhelmed, the sounds of music and chatter outside of the door only worsening the overstimulation.

"i hope you're okay." she says, periodically breaking eye contact, unable to bring herself to look into ethan's doe eyes, heart filled with grief. it was mutual, they say, not strong enough to string everything into words.

"i hope you're okay, too." ethan reciprocates, pretty smile showing, despite the dim lighting in the small bathroom. the dryness in his mouth chokes him, and the fastness of his pulse rate starts increasing once again. her eyes can't help but fill with salty tears, dropping down onto her blushed cheeks like water on a bonfire. ethan stares at the floor, concealing his pain, not noticing when she stands up to make her way towards him, to comfort him. he jolts his head up when he feels contact, her hand sitting lightly on his shoulder.

"we'll be okay." she promises, moving his tousled brown curls away from his face, his breathing now stopping altogether. ethan places his hands on her waist, pulling her slightly closer to his body. under painted lashes, she looks up at him, eyes glistened over with tears. his forehead rests against hers, the fast paces of their hearts on each other's skin through layers of fabric. their lips barely graze, so close yet so far from sweet release. they both know they have to pull away and leave, but they're like two magnets of opposite poles; they'll always attract.

with their lips frustratingly close, ethan gives in to his desperation and joins his with hers, sighing into her mouth in relief, tasting the remnants of fruity alcohol on her tongue. she's quick to retaliate, fingertips losing themselves in his hair, snaking down to his neck to deepen their kiss. he's allowing his hands to wander up her back, wrapping around her torso to spin her around, setting her on the counter. he takes a moment to appreciate her enchanting eyes, and everything intoxicating about her that has him hooked like an addict.

"please don't leave me again." ethan begs, looking down at her flustered face. mistake or not, kissing him set her nerves alight, and she wasn't willing to let that go for a second time, and neither was he. the lips of another never seemed appealing, it was him, and always would be. she smiles in response, sinking into his touch.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 17 | SR

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Spencer receives a surprise visitor right when he needs it’s the most. The two of you grow closer and Spencer starts to feel something akin to normal.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - talk of weight gain, talk of drug addiction, Spencer starts to piece his memories together, swearing, public sex?, fingering, oral (fem and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

WC - 5.5k

Chapter 17 - Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

When Spencer got back to his room after his call with Cat, he wasn’t in the least bit surprised to find you gone. He wrote in his journal for a while, unable to stop himself recounting in graphic detail his evening spent with you. 

He was sure it wasn’t all in his head. It couldn’t have been in his head, surely? But sadly Spencer didn’t trust his own brain anymore. 

He had a dreamless sleep that night and felt somewhat invigorated the next morning, ready to throw himself head first into his recovery and put all thoughts of Cat Adam’s behind him once and for all. 

He carried his chip in his pocket everywhere he went and when he was struggling he would hold it in his palm and squeeze as a reminder of his sobriety. 

The evening rolled around and Spencer waited for his visitor in the library. He stretched out in the chair before drumming his fingers on the wooden table. He glanced up at the clock again. Whoever was coming was late and it was grating on Spencer’s patience. 

He took his chip out of his pocket and rolled it around on the table. Spencer preferred to keep busy, it helped keep his mind occupied. Waiting around like this caused him to think about drugs. 

His leg bounced up and down and the sound of the coin rolling back and forth across the wood was one of few sounds to be heard. There were only two other people in the library and one of those was the librarian, so it was deathly quiet. 

He huffed out a breath as his leg continued to jiggle. On the far side of the library he heard the door open and if this wasn’t his visitor, Spencer was leaving. He had better things to do with his time. Like spend it with you. 

He heard footsteps heading his way and he trained his eyes on the sound just like the FBI trained him to do. When someone came into view, Spencer dropped the chip on the table, jaw hanging open as he glared wide eyed at his visitor. 

The man smiled brightly the second he saw Spencer and stopped in tracks, holding his arms open. 

“Pretty boy,” Morgan beamed at him. “Get over here!” 

Spencer leapt up from his chair and darted as fast as his leg would allow towards his friend and fell into his arms. Tears he hadn’t realised had sprung to his eyes started cascading down his cheeks as he buried his head into Morgan’s shoulder. 

“Morgan, you’re here.” He wrapped his arms tightly around the other man, practically squeezing the life from him. 

Morgan chuckled, patting the younger man’s back. 

“Of course I am. I’m here, Spencer, don’t worry.” Morgan held him while he sobbed for a few minutes. 

Spencer hadn’t realised how much he’d missed Morgan until right now. He felt overwhelmed that Morgan would come all this way to see him in his time of need. 

Eventually his tears started to slow and he stepped back from Morgan’s hold and wiped his eyes on his sweater sleeve. Morgan motioned him back towards the table where they sat on opposite sides. 

“Penelope called me. She’s worried about you. Everyone is.” Morgan removed his baseball cap and set it on the table next to Spencer’s chip. 

“I know. I’m sorry you had to come all this way.” Spencer pouted.

“Nuh uh. Don’t you dare apologise to me, kid.” Morgan shook his head, his voice that strange combination of calm and stern that was just so typically Morgan.

“I can’t help it.” Spencer ran his fingers over the face of the chip. “You shouldn’t have had to come all this way just for me. You’ve got Savannah and Hank to worry about, you don’t need me adding to that.” 

“Lucky for you, I’ve always been good at juggling many plates.” Morgan’s lips twitched up at the corner in a small smile. “So, you look better than I expected you to.”

Spencer smiled, picking up the coin and rolling it into his palm.

“I’ve put some weight back on. I’m still not back to where I was but I’m certainly more healthy than I was when I was admitted. And the withdrawals have mostly let up now. I still have moments where I feel like I’m going to die, but they are few and far between now.” he admitted.

“Are you getting your memories back? I heard you lost a large chunk of time?” Morgan leant his elbows on the table.

“Not really. I’m not sure they will ever come back to be honest. But I guess things are becoming clearer in a way.”

“How so?” 

“My last coherent memory before I woke up here was buying cocaine for the first time. I can now clearly see that was a long time ago, probably eighteen months ago or so. The combination of the dilaudid and the cocaine is what scrambled my brain and caused me to lose so much time. I also had what I thought was a dream before waking up here and I think now it might have been real.” He mused out loud. 

“What happened in it?” Morgan narrowed his eyes on him.

Spencer heaved a weighted sigh, clutching the chip tightly in his hand.

“It’s not strange for me to dream about faces from my past, but this was different. I think I passed out somewhere, overdosed. And I thought the people trying to help me were these people from my past. Cat was there but I think she was an innocent bystander trying to stop the bleeding in my leg wound. I attacked someone I thought was Mr Scratch but I think he was really a paramedic. Foyet was probably a doctor trying to help me and Lindsay Vaughn was likely just a nurse. 

I think that’s when I was admitted to the hospital before I ended up here. I think I remember it but my recollections are hazy due to the drugs. They probably always will be.” 

“Maybe that’s for the best. I know it’s probably scary not remembering but it might be your brain's way of protecting you.” Morgan offered a small smile.

“You’re probably right. I’m not sure I really want to know what I got up to.” Spencer chuckled dryly. “There’s one memory I would like to be able to ascertain whether or not it’s real though.”

“Care to share, pretty Ricky?” 

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Y/N and the relationship I created in my mind.” Spencer sighed as he spoke, sitting back in his chair. 

The look on Morgan’s face told him he knew all about that particular occurrence.

“Yeah, Prentiss told me.” he spoke a little guiltily. 

“I think I remember the first night I met her, like, really met her. But I don’t trust my brain anymore so I have no idea if it’s just part of this fantasy I’ve created. The only difference is that Tara thinks she saw us together. Y/N always wore this bracelet and Tara was sure she saw me with a woman who was wearing it some two years ago.” Spencer rolled up his sleeve a little to show Morgan the purple and gold woven band he hadn’t taken off since the night in the pool. 

Morgan looked from the bracelet back to Spencer’s face. 

“Prentiss said she’s a patient here? Have you asked her about it?” 

“Not yet. I probably should.” he rolled his sleeve back down. 

“What is it you remember from that night?” 

Morgan watched as Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red and he coiled his neck slightly into his sweater in embarrassment.

“I…I don’t want to talk about it.” Spencer gnawed on his lip.

A smile burst onto Morgan’s face and a soft chuckle left his lips at the younger man’s embarrassment. 

“You don’t want to tell me about your sex life, pretty boy?” Morgan laughed, trying to keep as quiet as possible given the setting. 

“I really don’t want to tell you about my sex life.” Spencer confirmed. 

“You should talk to her. It might help to know if it's a real memory or not.” Morgan thankfully changed the subject.

“I’m scared it’s just another false memory. I’m not sure if I want to know the truth or not. I don’t know if I can cope with anymore disappointment.” He was playing with the chip in his hand when Morgan reached across the table and placed his hand on Spencer’s wrist.

Spencer stilled his movements and the look in Morgan’s eyes told him to open his palm, which he did. Morgan plucked the chip from his open hand and held it up to look at it.

It had been a golden colour once but now was more of a bronze. The words “To Thine Own Self Be True” were embellished around the outside and a little scuffed. In the centre was a triangle with the number one in the middle which was a little worn away where Spencer had repeatedly rubbed his thumb over the surface. Along each edge of the triangle were three words. Unity. Service. Recovery.

It was clear it had been handled frequently which wasn’t a surprise. Morgan could clearly remember the times he’d noticed Spencer rubbing it between his fingers during particularly bad cases when he was struggling the most.

“I remember how proud you were when you got this.” Morgan mused with a slightly dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” Spencer questioned.

“Yeah and you had every right to be. It was a huge achievement, kid. You were practically beaming from ear to ear the first time you showed me.” he gently placed the coin back in Spencer’s still open hand. 

“I never thought I would make it a year. I was proud of myself.” he closed his palm and squeezed tightly. 

“You know you’ll get there again, don’t you? I have absolutely no doubt that you will make it again. Hell, you’ll make it to ten years again. Twenty even.” Morgan grinned at him, in a knowing kind of way.

When he looked at Spencer like that, it was hard for Spencer not to believe him. Morgan might not have an IQ like Spencer’s but he always seemed to just know things. Sometimes Spencer thought Morgan might be able to see into the future or something, because he always seemed to know what was going to happen.

“I hope you’re right.” Spencer nodded. 

“When have you known me to be wrong?” Morgan smirked at him. 

“Plenty of times but I don’t want to make you feel bad by listing them all.” Spencer teased him, slipping the chip back in his pocket. “Thank you for coming to see me Morgan, I really needed this.”

“You are more than welcome, pretty boy. Want to take a walk?” 

“Sure.” Spencer nodded, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet.

Morgan stood too and replaced his baseball cap, motioning for Spencer to lead the way. The two of them spent the next hour or so wandering around the institute and talking about everything and nothing all at once. And it was the closest Spencer felt to normal in months, maybe even years. 

That night, Spencer slept extremely well, feeling surprisingly peaceful after his evening spent with Morgan. It was amazing what seeing his best friend could do to his mood. 

***

He was pleased to find it carried over to the next day and he was more open in his group therapy than he had been since arriving here. He spoke at great lengths about his friendship with Morgan and how seeing him yesterday had invigorated him. 

Between therapies and meals, he spent his free time scouring the institute for you and continuously coming up empty. He had no idea how you managed to avoid him so well, whether it was deliberate or not. 

After dinner he wandered the courtyard and his feet instinctively carried him towards the rose garden where you’d been reading the first time he saw you at the institute. His heart practically soared when he spotted you sitting in the grass surrounded by rose bushes, your nose buried deep in a book.

You looked so peaceful as you read, with your hair falling slighting in your face, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth as you focused on the words on the page. Spencer watched you for a moment or two, enraptured by your exquisite beauty. It was no wonder you’d stuck in his mind the way you had, it wasn’t a surprise his brain has chosen you to create a fantasy life with. 

One look at you and all the air left his lungs. You rendered him dumb when you were near. 

You were so wrapped up in your book you didn’t even seem to notice him watching you. He could have stared at you all day and never got tired of it. But he had an urge to do a whole lot more than just stare at you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

Your eyes snapped up from the book in your lap and met Spencer’s as he approached you. You smiled softly at him and closed your book. 

“I’ve been around.” You watched him cross through the rose bushes and come closer to you. 

Once he was in front of you he cautiously lowered himself to the grass, trying to avoid too much strain on his still healing leg. You had your legs crossed and wore a skimpy sundress which gave Spencer the most perfect view of your thighs. It really wouldn’t be difficult for him at all to look right up your skirt. 

Maybe that had been your plan. 

“My eyes are up here, Spencer.” You giggled when he wouldn’t take his eyes off of your legs. 

When he looked up to meet your gaze, his pupils were blown out. 

“Is this for my benefit?” 

“Not especially. It’s a hot day.” 

“It just got a whole lot hotter.” He shuffled closer to you, his large hands finding your shins and tugged your legs out of their crossed position. 

You let him manoeuvre you like a rag doll until your legs were straight and parted enough for Spencer to kneel between them. He cupped your face in his hands and smiled darkly at you. 

“What are you doing?” Your voice was low and breathy. 

“Finishing what we started.” With that he kissed you, quickly laying you back in the grass and pressing his body down on top of yours.

You moaned against his lips, feeling his erection pushing against you. 

“Anyone could catch us. You heard what that nurse said. We could get in trouble.” You panted as his lips moved down to your neck. 

Spencer sucked on your flesh, causing your back to arch and your hips to grind against him. He chuckled against your skin.

“No one comes around here. It’s probably safer here than in our rooms.” 

He was probably right. And even if he wasn’t his lips were now casting across your collarbones and his hand was wandering your thigh so even if he wasn’t it didn’t matter. You were already too far gone. 

His hand worked under your dress and his fingers ran along your sheathed core. Even through your panties it was clear how wet you were already. 

“You want me to stop?” He laughed against your collarbones, fingers dancing over the fabric of your panties.

“N-no.” You whimpered and you were rewarded with the feeling of Spencer moving your panties aside. 

A rush of cool air shot between your legs but you didn’t have long to focus on it as Spencer’s fingers were running through your folds.

“Fuck you’re so wet, angel.” He placed a kiss on your jaw. 

“I k-know.” 

Spencer chuckled as two of his long, nimble fingers entered your waiting cunt and he growled against your skin at the way you felt. His other hand pushed the top of your dress down to expose your breasts and he wasted no time in taking one of your nipples in his mouth. 

You clamped your hand over your own mouth to stifle your moans as his teeth nibbled your sensitive bud. His fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, brushing against your cervix and causing your body to shake beneath him. 

He swapped over and gave the same attention to your other nipple, using his fingers to stretch you in anticipation of his cock. You rocked a little against his fingers, and Spencer laughed at your eagerness. 

You closed your eyes and let the waves of pleasure consume you so you didn’t notice he was moving lower down your body. When you felt his breath between your legs your eyes snapped back open and you stared down at him. 

He smirked up at you, eyes practically black as he withdrew his fingers, making you whimper. You watched him take his digits to his mouth and sucked them clean of your arousal.

“Fuck angel, you taste so good.” He moaned around his fingers. 

“F-fuck, Spencer.” You panted. 

“Not enough. Need more.” He growled as he bowed his head between your legs and under your dress. 

When his tongue lapped over your clit for the first time, your body spasmed in the grass, barely able to contain the loud moan that erupted from your lungs. Spencer buried his face between your legs, focusing his ministrations on your clit as your thighs clamped around his head. 

He could hear your soft moans behind your hand and wished he could hear you screaming at the top of your lungs but he knew you both needed to be quiet. Your moans were like the sexiest lullaby to his ears and he wanted to bottle them so he could listen to them any time he liked. 

His cock was throbbing inside his pants and he had to free himself to relieve some pressure. He lapped his tongue through your legs to collect your slickness on his tongue and palmed his shaft once it was out of his pants. 

He wrapped his hand around the base and squeezed in an attempt to stop himself coming just from the way you tasted. He settled back on your clit, sucking and lapping over it vigorously while you writhed in the grass. His free hand found its way back between your legs and his two fingers entered you suddenly again, causing you to yelp. 

Spencer moaned against you, feeling light headed from his own arousal. He buried his face into you completely, scissoring your cunt and feeling your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“Fucking hell, angel.” He spoke against your core, sending vibrations through your whole body. “I could spend the rest of my life between your beautiful legs.” 

You moaned behind your hand, your other one going to his hair and embedding your fingers in the roots. 

“Spence, that feels so fucking good.” You whined, squeezing your thighs against his face. 

He smirked, diving his fingers as deep inside you as he possibly could. Your body trembled beneath him and you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Without meaning to he’d started stroking his cock, his precome leaking all over his hand. He was dangerously close to coming but he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. 

“Are you close?” He spoke into you, tongue working hard to push you to the brink. 

It felt like he was writing love songs between your legs, his tongue deft and experienced.

“Hmm.” You mumbled, clenching around his fingers. 

His tongue picked up speed whilst his fingers dove deeper. He felt the coil in his stomach, the tell tale tightening that he was close himself. 

He flattened his tongue against you and thrust his fingers harder inside of you. You whined, legs tightening around his face and tugging at the roots of his hair. 

“F-fuck, Spence! I’m g-gonna come!” Your body shook violently and Spencer fought to keep you still the best he could while he continued to work you through your orgasm. 

Your walls clenched around his fingers and the thought of feeling it around his cock was all it took to push him over the edge. He moaned against your clit as his cock throbbed in his hand and he shot streaks of come over the grass. 

He withdrew his fingers from inside of you and held you down by your thighs, lapping up your arousal. You were whining and writhing and trying to push him away from your overly sensitive bud but Spencer insisted on cleaning up between your legs with his tongue. 

“P-please!” You whined, tears sneaking out of your eyes. “S’too much.” 

Still holding his now limp dick he sat back on his haunches and wiped his hand over his mouth. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him. His stubbly jaw was glistening with your slick and his lips were red and puffy. 

Your eyes trailed down his body to his softened cock. 

“Y-you…you?” 

“Yes, I came too.” He chuckled, laying down in the grass next to you and pulling you close for a kiss. 

You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, so delirious you barely noticed him wrap his arms around you and roll you on top of him. He kissed you deeply whilst fondling your breasts which were still out of the top of your dress. You rolled your hips against his and Spencer knew it would be no time at all before he grew hard again. 

“That’s it sweetheart, grind yourself on me. Get me nice and hard again.” He nibbled your bottom lip whilst tweaking your nipples between his fingers. 

You did as you were told, lifting your dress a little so you could grind your panty covered core against his cock. Spencer growled at the friction, giving your nipples a harsh tug. But the pleasurable growl that left your lips at the sensation spurred him on to do it again. 

You felt him start to grow hard against you so grinded on him harder, sitting back so you could look down on him. His hands fell to his sides and he watched the way your glorious tits moved as you rocked against him. It reminded him so much of that vague dream of a night he may or may not have spent with you. 

Once he was completely erect once more he took hold of your hips and lifted you over his dick. You lifted your dress again and moved your panties aside for him. His head pressed against your entrance, so heavy and thick you knew it was going to burn when he entered you but you couldn’t wait. 

You placed your hands flush on his sweater covered chest and lowered yourself slowly. Spencer’s mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head as his cock started to inch inside of you. Your face contorted a little at the swell of pain between your legs as he stretched you out inch by inch. But it was the most incredible kind of pain. 

You were slow in your movements, letting him fill you up gradually, allowing yourself to steadily get used to his large length filling you up. 

Spencer’s blunt nails dug into your hips as he patiently waited for you to get comfortable. He stretched you out, your walls fluttering against his shaft as they accommodated every inch of him. When he bottomed out inside of you, he looked up at you in wide eyed awe.

“You have no idea how fucking incredible that feels, angel.” 

“You’re so fucking big.” You whined, involuntarily clenching around him. 

“I know.” He smirked at you, rolling his hips to tell you to move. 

You were slow to start off with, rocking your hips and back and forth a little while you got used to the way his heavy cock felt inside of you. You gradually started moving a little more, raising yourself up before taking him all the way again and having him crash against your cervix each time. 

Spencer was smiling encouragingly at you, holding your hips to help keep you steady. Once the pain in your eyes became replaced with pleasure, he dared to start bucking his hips up to meet your movements. 

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the moans that wanted to erupt from your chest. You moved lazily around him while Spencer took over control, setting the pace and snapping his hips up to slam inside of you repeatedly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes again as you muttered his name beneath your breath. 

He kept his eyes on your heaving breasts, hypnotised by the way they moved when he snapped up inside of you. 

“Fuck, angel you feel so good.” He praised you after a particularly hard thrust that caused your tears to overflow. 

“You’re so…you’re so…fuck Spence!” You whined, head flopping forward to your chest. You looked like a rag doll above him, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

The burn between your legs from the way he stretched you only added to your pleasure and it was making you feel delirious. Tears rolled down your cheeks as he kept thrusting inside of you, picking up his pace. 

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was the only sounds that could be heard in the rose garden aside from your stifled moans and Spencer’s heavy breathing. His hands left your hips and soon found purchase on your breasts. He rolled your nipples between his fingers as you rocked back and forth on him. 

He could feel you tightening around him and it was making him dizzy. It had been such a long time since he’d had sex while sober and he’d forgotten what it felt like. Spencer always thought having sex while high was the most amazing feeling in the world. But the drugs had a way of numbing the body and the pleasure he was feeling now was nothing compared to how it felt when he was high.

He could feel every little movement. Every flutter of your cunt around his cock, every dip and curve of your body beneath his fingers. Every one of his nerve endings was on fire. The drugs didn’t allow him to feel every little sensation this way. Maybe there was something to be said about a sober lifestyle. 

Suddenly you went rigid on top of him, your previously limp body trembling and your walls clamped down around him. 

“F-f-fuck!” You screamed in shock as your second orgasm snuck up on you, the surprise was written all over your face. 

You moaned languidly as you came around him, causing Spencer’s own cock to twitch at the sensation, knowing he wouldn’t be far behind. But he wasn’t an idiot and you hadn’t discussed birth control.

He held himself back from the brink while you rode out your orgasm, going limp once more. He helped your shaking body off of him and laid you back to the grass. You whined at the empty feeling, tears still rolling down your cheeks. He knelt over your still form with a dark smirk. 

“Think you can swallow my load, princess?” He gripped the back of your neck and pulled your face close to his cock. 

You whimpered and nodded pathetically, parting your lips for him. He cupped your jaw gently which was a stark comparison to the way he roughly thrust inside your waiting mouth. 

Spencer did all the work, fucking your mouth while holding you steady. Your eyes rolled back in your head feeling completely used up. But in the best possible way. His balls slapped against you as he pounded into your mouth and he didn’t warn you before he came. His hot streaks of come hit the back of your throat making you splutter and cough but you swallowed every last drop. 

Spencer slowed his movements, rocking a little in your mouth until he’d completely expelled himself. Eventually he pulled back and withdrew from your mouth. A string of saliva and come trailed from the head of his cock to your chin. He delicately wiped it with his hand before wiping it on his slacks. He cupped your jaw again and brought you close for a slightly messy kiss. 

Once he let you go, you collapsed back to the grass. Spencer smiled to himself as he tucked his softening dick back in his pants. He pulled your dress down to cover your panties and helped you get your breasts covered again. 

He laid down next to you and wrapped your still trembling body in his arms, pulling your head to rest on his chest. His heart beat erratically beneath your ear and you imagined yours was much the same. You closed your eyes and focused on the sound. 

Sex had never felt like that before. You’d never felt so connected to another human being before in your whole life. It felt as though you and Spencer became one when he was inside of you. It was like his body became an extension of your own when he fucked you. Sex with Spencer was its own drug, one you never wanted to quit. 

There was only one other time in your life you could remember feeling so tethered to a person you’d slept with but that was so long ago now, barely a distant memory…

…your eyes shot open and you shuffled in Spencer’s arms so you could look at him. Your eyebrows were knitted together in a confused frown and noticing your expression, he mirrored it.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, stroking your hair back off your face. 

“We…I…” you swallowed. “We’ve done that before.” 

Spencer’s features softened into a small smile.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or not.” 

“You didn’t. We’ve definitely done that before.” 

“I’m so glad I didn’t make that up.” Spencer breathed a sigh of relief and you saw something flicker on his eyes. 

You sat up a little on your elbows so you could look at him properly. 

“Why do you always think you’re imagining things?” 

You saw the flicker in his eyes again as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.” He sighed, crossing his legs in the grass. 

You softly placed your hand on his knee. 

“All the best people are.” You gave him a wry smile. 

“The drugs they…did they ever cause you to create false memories?” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“I’m not sure.” You frowned a little. “There’s certainly things I don’t remember. And things I have trouble discerning whether they are real or a dream.” 

“Ok.” He nodded. “Well the drugs caused me to create an entirely alternate universe in my head, one which I’ve only just come to realise wasn’t real. We must have met when we were high, apparently slept together, and somewhere in my mind it all got fucking twisted.” 

“Twisted how?” You looked at him curiously. 

“I was convinced we were together, like a couple. I created these memories in my brain of you being an FBI Agent and us meeting through work. I have these really vivid recollections of you meeting my friends and us going on dates and falling in love. When I saw you here the first time, I thought you were my ex-girlfriend who came to visit me. 

And I know now that none of it was real, I do know that. But it felt so fucking real and these images are so clear in my mind it’s hard to really believe it. I have an IQ of one hundred and eighty seven. I am a provable genius. My brain has always been the one thing I could rely on when everything else in my life went to shit. And it terrifies me that I can no longer trust my greatest asset.” 

“Tell me what it was like.” You whispered, moving to lay your head in his lap. “Us falling in love.” 

Spencer stroked your hair and breathed a sigh of relief that at the very least you didn’t think he was utterly insane. He recounted his manufactured memories to you in as much detail as he could. He told you every single one of his brain's creations of a life the two of you never really had together. 

And somewhere along the way he realised he wasn’t just in love with a fake memory of you. Spencer knew as he told you those stories while you laid in his lap that he would be in love with any incarnation of you. 

But his main focus was the version of you willing to listen to the made up stories of a drug addict about a life never lived. His only concern in that moment was how in love he was with the rose garden iteration of you. 

And whatever variant you were tomorrow, he’d be in love with her too. 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28 @academiareid

[broodsys]

actually just gonna drop some info:

soft toothbrushes only unless you've been told otherwise by ur dentist

do not brush hard. ik it's tempting, but please don't do it

enamel erosion can be repaired over time - erosion of the underlying layer (dentin) cannot

little circles slightly angled towards your gums is an excellent brushing technique fr

electric toothbrushes can be a very good investment, and there are affordable brands. however, it is very important to make sure you are not brushing too hard. do not apply pressure to your teeth, let the toothbrush do the work.

i get being low on spoons and having hygiene issues come from that; if at all possible, do not give up brushing and flossing. prioritize those two things

if you really can't do both, then doing them irregularly is better than doing them not at all

you don't need to floss only with the regular floss! floss picks, waterpiks, etc - these are all useful

(note on waterpiks: if you get the kind that don't have a wide range of pressures, it is going to hurt and you are going to bleed if you haven't been flossing much before. but if you stick it out, it'll get better. ik it can be freaky and painful though)

avoid whitening toothpastes. they increase sensitivity and no one has white teeth anyway.

otherwise, most toothpastes are similar - sensodyne has been my favorite for sensitivity, but if you hate it, use something else! using toothpaste meant for kids is fine, too. get a flavor you like and will use. there's no need to stick to convention here if it's not working for you

speaking of, toothbrushes meant for kids can be helpful if you have a smaller mouth

chewing sugarfree gum after eating/drinking (esp acidic or sugary things like coffee or soda) is useful and fairly simple. i tend to chew half a stick of gum at a time so i don't have to buy more gum as often lmao. still works!

gag reflexes suck. mine is super sensitive. i just do the best i can. try to find angles that trigger it less

ACT mouthwash is well respected in the dental profession, but any anticavity mouthwash is good if you can't tolerate the flavor of ACT.

check if your area has fluoride in the water - mine does not, and as such i have to prioritize fluoride toothpaste and mouthwash

regular dental appointments are important, both checkups and cleanings, but i understand the fear around them and the fact that they are unaffordable for a lot of people

if it's unaffordable, local colleges that offer dental training may have student clinics like mine did. these are a lot more affordable and still good-quality care

if it's frightening, speak to your dentist, assistant, and hygienist about your fear. if they're shitty or dismissive and you are able to get a new one, do so.

if the sound of the instruments bothers you, most clinics are fine with you wearing earbuds and listening to music

if you struggle with keeping your mouth open, tell them! they have bite blocks which they can put in and you can rest your jaw.

please don't bite your dentist, assistant, or hygienist. yes this happens.

and finally:

having issues with your teeth, your oral health, having plaque or gingivitis, having yellowed, missing, or crooked teeth... none of these make you a bad person