#just one of the thought blurbs i have to write before my mind can shut down and go to sleep

[astrophileous]

HI! i love your works and writing so much!! 🩷can i make a request for spencer x fem!reader, where spencer sees reader play with children (whether it be henry or a different child) and gets turned on? later, smut with a breeding kink?🩷 FEEL FREE TO IGNORE IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO IT🫶

OKAY BUT A DISCLAIMER FIRST: smut is so fucking hard to write ISTG!!!! It took me far too long a time to finish this and now I might have just acquired a newfound level of respect for any fic writers out there who regularly whip out smut in every fic. With that said, I hope you bear with me bcs I'm new and generally inexperienced in writing smut, so I hope this is to your liking 😭😭😭 ty for the request and waiting so patiently!! ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, 18+ smut content minors dni, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, praise kink (?), talks of impregnation, profanities, this is just porn without plot tbh

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What's going on with you?" you asked as soon as the front door was shut behind your back.

Spencer turned around at your question. "What? Nothing's going on with me."

"Don't lie, Spencer. You've been awfully quiet since we left JJ's house." Your statement drove Spencer to tear his gaze away, but before he could take another step, you had seemingly transported right in front of him. "Talk to me. What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, sweetheart. Just forget it, okay?"

"No, I wanna know. Tell me."

Spencer's jaw clenched at your display of persistence. You didn't miss the way his eyes turned a few shades darker as he pinned you with his relentless stare.

"You really wanna know?" Spencer murmured.

Before you could give him a verbal answer, your fiancé suddenly pushed himself forward, trapping your body with his as your back collided against the wall. You gasped at his proximity. The atmosphere quickly shifted as you felt Spencer trailing his nose against the length of your neck.

"You wanna know what's going on? The truth is, I've been going insane," Spencer admitted against your ear. "You're driving me insane."

"Spencer, what are you talking about?"

Against what you thought was possible, Spencer propelled himself further into you, to the point where the air you breathed out became the same one he inhaled. Spencer's knee shoved itself between the apex of your thighs, making you gasp from the unexpected friction that his movement caused.

"I watched you back at JJ's. The way you acted around Henry? I can't stop thinking about it, sweetheart. It's driving me crazy."

"What?" An involuntary gasp slipped past your lips when Spencer's teeth lightly grazed your pulse point. "What are you—"

"I want us to have a baby."

The shock you felt was undoubtedly written all over your face. Spencer pulled back just the tiniest bit so he could stare right into your eyes. The gentleness in his pupils contradicted the desperation found in all of the ministrastions he pulled so far.

"I know when we talked about it in the past, it always seemed like such a distant thing. But after seeing you today—how you doted on Henry? I can't help it, sweetheart." Spencer's fingers strayed towards your cheek, tracing an invisible line until his touch met your jaw. "I want to have a family with you, and I want it to happen sooner rather than later. You own my forever, angel. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll become as amazing a mother just as you are a person."

The admission rendered you speechless. Time arrived into a screeching halt where it stayed there for seemingly thousands of years. Spencer was assessing you with worry in the consequent silence, trying to solve the cipher in your countenance that could give him a clue to what you were thinking.

Just as he was about to call out your name, you lunged forward out of the blue, claiming his lips in an earth-shattering kiss.

The two of you molded into one another like a pair of fitted puzzle pieces. Fire was raging inside your chest when you pulled away, first telltale signs of arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"I wanna have a baby with you, Spencer. Please, I love you so much."

Spencer groaned wholeheartedly at the confession before diving back to kiss you even more fervently than before. Amidst the roaming hands and pleasurable gasps, the two of you somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom you had shared together for the past couple of years. Shed clothes littered the entire path you trudged, and in the blink of an eye, you found yourself naked on the bed with Spencer hovering above you clad in only his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer mused before taking one of your nipples in his explorative mouth. You writhed in pleasure while his fingers toyed with your other breast, making sure that no inch of your beauty escaped his attention. "Can't wait to see these full of milk, sweetheart. You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my baby."

You could only mewl when Spencer's lips trailed further southward, peppering kisses beneath your navel, just a sliver to where you needed him the most.

"Spencer, please. Ah. Don't tease."

Your fiancé chuckled at the desperation he heard in your voice. If it were any other day, he would have taken the time to edge you even further for the next few hours. But Spencer could feel his boxers getting tighter by the minute, and not wanting to prolong it any further, he slid downward until he was met with the view of your glistening folds.

"Fuck. So wet and gorgeous. Wish you could see how pretty you look, angel."

The moment Spencer's mouth touched your most sensitive part, you were gone for. His tongue lapped your juices like he was a man lost in a dessert while you were his oasis. The moans fled your throat when his lips wrapped around your taut clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue until you thrashed around uncontrollably. He then used his left forearm to pin your torso down, while his other hand started prodding the entrance to your heat.

"Oh my god, Spencer—mmphh," you whined when two of Spencer's fingers were snugly sheathed inside of you, going in and out until the whole room was overpowered by the obscene sound of your squelching wetness.

"You're so wet, angel. Holy shit," Spencer marveled as he fixated onto the movements of his fingers inside of you, the digits shining from your arousal that coated them. "So warm and tight, too. This all for me?"

"For you, Spencer, only for—oh, only for you. Feels so, mmhh, so good."

Spencer knew you were getting close from how tightly your walls were gripping his fingers, along with the way you were grinding your hips against his hand as if trying to amplify the pleasure you were reeling from. But right before the coil in your belly snapped, Spencer promptly removed his hand from your heat, making you whimpered in protest from the loss of contact.

"Patience, angel," Spencer said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. "I want to be inside you and feel you around me as you cum."

He made quick work in removing his boxers, revealing his erection that was already red and leaking pre-cum on the tip. Spencer hissed when he gave himself a few lazy tugs, aware of your burning stare as you watched him with a raging want.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Spencer asked, waiting for your nod before sliding his tip in. You moaned into his neck until the entire length of his cock was snugged inside, clutching Spencer for dear life as the man cursed against your cheek. "You feel so good around me. Fuck. You alright, angel?"

You could only nod meekly in response. "Need you to move, Spence. Please, move."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He drew his hips back until the only thing engulfed by your pulsating walls was his tip, before ramming back into you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs.

In no time at all, your fiancé was moving in and out of you vigorously. The lewd sound of skin against skin echoed within the four walls of your bedroom, fueling your desire until your whole being was consumed by everything Spencer. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and vein of Spencer's cock as it slid in and out of your weeping hole, but your hazy brain would argue that it was plainly your lust talking.

"Spencer." His name came out as a gasp as you felt the imminent climax rising higher and higher. "I'm so—ah, s-so close. Please, please, please, I need to—"

"I know, sweetheart. I know you are. Can feel you squeezing around me. Shit. Milking me so good, hm? Gonna milk me, angel? Gonna milk my cock dry?"

You couldn't think of any other reply to Spencer's crude words except to moan even louder.

"I'm close, too, sweetheart. Fuck. I love being inside you like this. 'M gonna cum so much, gonna have my seed so deep inside you until your womb is filled to the brim."

Your walls fluttered at the thought of being full of Spencer's cum, and this little knowledge didn't evade your fiancé's notice as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

"You like that, huh? Like the thought of my cum in your womb? Can't wait until you're all big and round, sweetheart. You're gonna make such a beautiful mommy."

"Wanna be a mommy, Spencer, I wanna have your baby!"

"Yeah? You want that? Wanna be pregnant with my baby and make me a daddy? Have a part of me inside of you, huh? Shit. Can picture it now, sweetheart. You'll look so gorgeous pregnant. Most beautiful mommy in the world."

Spencer's hips stuttered slightly. The mental image of you pregnant and barefoot, walking around your shared home carrying his child was doing abominable things to every neuron in his brain. That thought alone, along with the way your pussy was getting tighter around him by the second, was inevitably going to push him over the edge.

Without ever abating his pace, Spencer's fingers reached down towards your clit and started rubbing as if there was no tomorrow. You let out a scream at the added sense of pleasure that Spencer's fingers sent to your belly.

"That's it, angel. Just let it go for me. Let go and I'll give you every drop of my cum."

Another powerful thrust, coupled with a delicious stimulation to your bundle of nerves, had you cumming around Spencer's cock like you had never been before. It was one of the most intense orgasms of your life, and you couldn't do anything but wail and moan as Spencer continued to move inside you through it all.

Mere seconds later, Spencer's own undoing crashed into him like a truck. You felt his cock throb before warmth flooded in, spurts of cum painting every inch of your walls until Spencer was sure there was nothing else to empty. He collapsed on top of you as soon as he was done pulling out, panting breaths and a satiated smile as he buried his face in the column of your neck.

"So—" you began once your breathing had evened out, "—we're doing this, huh?"

Spencer looked up at your face. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Definitely not. There's no one I'd rather do this with more than you, Spencer." You smiled, tucking a strand of your fiancé's overgrown curly hair behind his ear. "Although, I do have to say, I didn't expect you to be that type of guy."

"What type of guy?"

"The kind who gets territorial and borderline obsessed with the thought of impregnating their woman."

Your statement caused Spencer to laugh, crinkling eyes and head thrown back in a way that made your heart fall a little deeper for the man. You closed your eyes and sighed when his hand rose to cup your cheek.

"Can't help it, sweetheart. Any guy would be driven wild to have you as the mother of their child. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

Spencer's proclamation was sealed with a kiss to your lips. It started out innocent enough before escalating in desperation with every minute that ticked by. Spencer swallowed all of your whimpers even when his hand started to meander downward, all the way past your abdomen, and right under your navel where your arousal was beginning to awaken once again.

At the first swipe of thumb on your clit, you gasped against his lips.

"Spence, what are you—"

"Sshh, we're far from finished, sweetheart. Didn't think I'd be done with you so quickly, did you?" Spencer smirked. "I'm gonna keep fucking you through the night, however long it takes, and fill you with loads after loads of my cum to make sure you are pregnant once this is all over. Now, you just lie back, angel. 'M gonna make you feel so fucking good."

[purplecoffee13]

“Say you’re sorry.”*

Hey guys! I’ve been writing different parts of different series (new and current ones) but I’m still in the middle of all of them, so I wanted to upload this blurb in the meantime. I usually don’t add pictures to blurbs but this one was too perfect not to add, like… look at him. Anyways, hope you like it!!! xxx

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, lowkey exhibitionism, daddy kink, spanking (only once but still)

General Masterlist

Blurbs Masterlist

************************************************

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? Disobeying me, hanging up on me, driving me fucking crazy? Thought I'd taught you well... why are you being such a brat tonight?"

"Just wanted to have fun with my friends..." you protest, letting Harry drag you to his car. Your stomach bubbles in excitement, curious to see what he is going to do to you.

Tonight you had had a girls night with your two best friends, to celebrate the fact that you were all engaged or married. You had been friends since college and couldn't believe you had all come so far. However, a few hours and a bottle of wine later, you all realized: you hadn't gone out in a damn hot minute.

Naturally, the idea of going clubbing came to mind. You texted Harry, telling him you were spontaneously going clubbing, but wouldn't be home later than two (you two were flying to your mom the next day, so you didn’t want to be extremely unrested). He texted you back to go to Mercy—the club which he owned—because he had arranged VIP and a limitless tab for you there, and also reminded you to text him if you'd be home later than three so he wouldn't worry.

You agreed, and so you and your friends went to the club. However, time flew by and before you knew it was 3:30am and you were still dancing the night away. It wasn't long after that Harry showed up.

Your friends had agreed when he said he was going to take you home and let her rest a bit before getting on the flight tomorrow, and asked if they wanted to make use of the Uber he reserved for them. Since they both lived on the other side of town, he figured that would be most efficient.

It didn't take long before your friends were safely in the car paid for by Harry. Then, it was only the two of you, and your fiancé wasn't wasting any time.

"You told me you'd be home two hours ago. We have to be somewhere tomorrow." He tells you once he has escorted you back to the dark parking lot where his BMW stood between a bunch of other cars. He pulls you in between his car and another, and pushes you against the vehicle. His free hand slips under your dress and past your panties. You sigh when his fingers come in contact with your clit and start to rub.

"I lost track of time!" You whine, shutting your eyes at the pleasure of Harry's touch. A shriek leaves your mouth when Harry slaps your clit.

"I called you five fucking times, and you ignored me. You're a spoiled fucking brat." He growls in your ear, stimulating your clit further. You bite your lip, looking around to check if there is no one here. Your eyes land on a bouncer, standing in front of the back exit Harry just carried you out of. You gasp, worried that he sees you and maybe thinks the wrong thing. Harry is quick to catch on to your worries.

"Don't worry baby, he works for me, he won't think anything of it. I own that club, remember?" He says confidently, and you let out a moan. The tone of his voice has you hot and bothered for him. Your boyfriend can be so cocky, and it's so fucking hot.

"Shit… Oh my god!” you whine as your eyes roll into the back of your head. His assertiveness and stern tone had done something to you, and being a bit tipsy always made it easier for you to come, but this was extremely fast.

“You gonna come for me already? How pathetic…” Harry teases you, only increasing the speed of his fingers and positively letting you descend into heaven or wherever it is that these euphoric orgasms always seem to send you.

"Say you're sorry, baby. Say you're sorry and I'll let you come." He orders. You bite your lip, jaw slacked as you try to contain the amount of noises that threaten to leave your mouth.

"Sorry— oh f–fuck!" You squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling of his fingers rubbing harsher, interrupting your apology. "I'm sorry, daddy."

There was a part of Harry that wanted to snatch his fingers away from you and make you cry for an orgasm until your eyes were all puffy and red, and then fuck you for the rest of the night. But he knew that the flight of tomorrow was going to kill you if you didn't have at least a bit of sleep, so he cut you some slack this time.

"Alright, come on baby, come all over my fingers." His rough voice orders, and he has to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle the squeal that escapes you as your orgasm takes over your body.

There isn't much time to come down from anything, as Harry is quick to take away his hand and open the car door. You watch as he steps inside and backs up his seat, giving you enough space for what you know he wants to do. As expected, he pulls you into the car, and you climb on top of him as he closes the car door. With the car seat leaned further down, he lays down and silently observes you. The cocky raise of a brow that says 'go on' makes your cunt ache for him again, and you are quick to follow his silent orders.

You unbutton his pants and whip out his cock, mesmerized by it as always. Harry smirks at you, still delighted by how starry eyed you get over him. You line yourself up with your fiancé's cock and push him into you. A sigh of relief leaves Harry's mouth and it makes you even wetter than you thought you could be.

Nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sounds of you bouncing up and down in Harry's cock fill the car.

"Oh, daddy! You feel so good!" You whimper, attempting to increase your speed. Harry moans out at the impact with which you are impaling yourself on his dick, and his hands travel to your tits.

"Look at you, crying for my cock, like the little slut you are." He notes tauntingly. "Don't know how to apologize in any other way than bouncing yourself dumb on my cock, do you?"

"N– ah! Fuck!" You try to respond to him, but Harry thrusts up into you, and the feeling of him so deep inside of you renders you unable to speak. Tears flow down your cheeks at the intensity of his thrusts and you aren't sure how long you'll be able to hold yourself up.

"Aw, is it too much for you baby?" He asks, following his words with an extra hard thrust. You hold on to the seat beside you in order not to fall forward, moaning uncontrollably at Harry's devilishly dirty antics.

"S– so much daddy..." you manage to croak out, and a mean laugh escapes Harry's throat. Your shut eyes open for a second, knowing you will want to see the beast you've unleashed with disobeying Harry tonight.

"Well that's too bad baby, because I don't give a fuck. I'm gonna fuck you until I've had enough, and you're going to shut up and take it, understood?" He orders, and when you don't immediately respond with words, he slaps your ass.

"Fuck! Yes, yes, daddy! Anything, please, I'm sorry. I'll be so good for you..." you start blabbering, and the sound of Harry's low chuckle vibrates all the way to your core.

"Yes you will. Now, bounce on my cock sweetheart, I never told you to stop…”

[flemingsfreckles]

Grandkids

Jessie Fleming x Reader (parent fic)

Synopsis: You and Jessie catch wind that your teenage daughter might have a boyfriend. Jessie loses her mind over it.

Warnings: discussions of sex, bird and the bees type conversation

WC: 1.7k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but I’m struggling to write. This is just another short blurb that got written because I had a single thought about Jessie being a mom to teenagers and having to give her kids the birds and the bees talk.

When your children had gotten home from school that day, you and Jessie were in the office, organizing old documents. The office was just located off the kitchen where your two children had walked through the door.

Your youngest child, Riley was already interrogating at his older sister. “So what is he your boyfriend now, are you guys all gross and in love?” You paused what you were doing, listening further into the conversation.

“Stop Riley.”

“Amelia and Nick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your younger one continues to taunt his sister

“Ughhh, shut up!” Your daughter's voice begins to fade, you assume she’s walking out of the room and away from the teasing that’s going on.

“Where are you going? To call your boyfriend?” You hear Riley call after her followed shortly by the slamming of a bedroom door. Normally the door slamming would be immediate grounds for either you or Jessie to go talk with your daughter. However you and your wife both remained frozen in the office.

You hear your son grab something from the fridge and make his way to his own room before closing the door.

When you heard his bedroom door close Jessie started speaking. “Did he just say her boyfriend?”

“I think so? I don’t know?” You shrug at your wife before turning to put more papers away, no longer being distracted by the conversation between your teenagers.

“Why are you fine with this?” Jessie now standing, no longer caring to organize and shred paper. Clearly Jessie was not taking the new information well.

“Fine with what?” You look at Jessie, taking the papers in her hands to finish filing them away.

“Our daughter having a boyfriend.” She says as if it’s the most obvious answer.

“Oh right, I’m sorry, she didn’t turn out gay like us, we tried our best.” You feel the smile creeping across your face. “Maybe we should’ve let her play softball and dressed her in more flannels as a little kid.”

“Can you take something seriously for once?!” Jessie was usually a fan of your humor but it appeared that today was not the day for it. She was clearly upset.

“Jessie, first of all, Riley is 15 he might not actually know what he’s talking about, he might’ve just overheard some school gossip. Second of all, Amelia is 17, not 12, she can have a boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at your wife, seeing and hearing the panic that she was having.

“I thought we had agreed when she was born that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was 25!” Jessie was whispering yelling at you, not wanting to alert your children.

“That was a joke Jessie, I’m not controlling my kid’s romantic life until they’re 25!” You both had jokingly talked that you wouldn’t let anyone near her, she was your little girl, you both overbearing as brand new parents. You had forgotten about that, obviously realizing that she’s a human and will likely date before she’s 25.

“Well she can’t have a boyfriend.” She crosses her arms, staring at you like you’re the bad guy in this situation. You throw your arms out, not sure why Jessie is upset with you.

“She’s 17, it’s fine, we don’t even know if it’s actually a boyfriend.” You tried to reason with your wife but you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

“She’s too young to have a boyfriend, she’s too young to be having sex!” Jessie whispers the word ‘sex’ as if just saying it was going to cause a teenage pregnancy somewhere in the world. “We cannot have grandkids yet!”

“Oh my god,” you start to laugh. “You’re fully losing it over this aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s dramatic jump from a potential boyfriend to your daughter giving you grandkids in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t know why you’re so okay with our daughter having sex with a boy we’ve never even met!” Jessie is wildly waving her hands, her face has a look of panic on it.

“Alright, sit, take a deep breath.” You push Jessie’s shoulders forcing her to put her weight up against the desk, half sitting on it. She takes a deep breath and you take one with her. You keep your hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as you talk to her.

“We don’t know he’s her boyfriend. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Amelia is a smart girl, you know that.” You take her hands in yours. “If she’s determined that now is the time she wants to start dating, I think we need to understand that that’s okay. We can talk with her about it. We’ll tell her our expectations, the expectations we have for her and whoever she wants to date. It’ll be fine.”

Jessie takes her hands from yours, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a small huff. “But it’s not fine, I don’t trust him, I don’t think he has good intentions.”

“You’ve never met the kid, Jessie just because he’s a teenage boy, doesn’t mean he only wants sex from her.” You pause before you continue, knowing your wife would likely not be happy with the next few words you said. “And Jessie,” you grab her face making her look at you. “if she is dating this boy or dating anyone, and she’s curious about the physical intimacy that comes with that, I think that’s okay.”

“No its-” you hold up your hand to stop Jessie’s sentence.

“Let me finish. If she’s curious and has questions, I’d rather she feel comfortable coming to us than to the internet or her friends who don’t know and will give her terrible information. Yes, 17 is young, but she’s practically an adult Jessie. She’ll be off at school in a year, where she won’t have us to help her with these things.” You can practically see the rage building up in your wife’s face. “Now I'm not going to sit here and tell her to go have sex, but I'm not going to let our daughter be taught that sex is a sinful or scary thing, you know that. We’ve raised them to be open and honest about sex so far, we can’t become a sex-negative household now that she’s at that age where it might be a thought. We can talk with her, have an adult conversation. We’ll explain the emotional aspect that comes with it, we’ll make sure she understands all the aspects of what it means to have sex with someone. And that if,” you take a deep breath, “if she’s planning on, or has any interest in having sex, we’ll get her set with birth control or condoms, probably both.”

“She’s too young, putting her on birth control would be like offering to buy them a hotel room to do it.” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s behavior still, you thought your reasoning would’ve helped her opinion at least a little.

When you first learned you were having a girl, Jessie was admient that no one would go near your daughter until she was 30. But the two of you had done your best to raise your kids to be informed, you taught them about consent early, you taught them the anatomy of where babies come from, when your daughter turned 14, you and Jessie sat her down, giving her the full bird and the bees talk. You did most of the talking, Jessie was there but she looked just as mortified as your daughter did. You taught her sex wasn’t bad and sex wasn’t just for babies, it was for intimacy, connection, enjoyment, it was fun, it was a way to connect with another person, but that didn’t make it any less serious. Jessie had been on board before with these discussions, she didn’t always participate fully, but she was always there and you knew your daughter had gone to her to ask her some questions after to get clarification. But now that the reality of your daughter starting this part of her life was real, Jessie had done a 180.

“Jessie, she’s a teenager, teenagers have hormones. If she wants to have sex, it’s going to happen, teenagers find a way whether we like it or not. I’d rather her be having safe, informed, and protected sex, than unsafe sex in a boy’s mom’s car in a sketchy dark parking lot in the middle of nowhere just so they can avoid getting caught.”

You both sit in silence, Jessie looks at the ground and you look at her.

“I hate that you’re right.” She mumbles after a few minutes.

“I know.” You kiss her cheek with a smile. “Jessie” you grab your wife’s hand, your thumb rubbing over where her wedding band and engagement ring sat, “Let’s just go talk to her, that way we’re not sitting here guessing and making up scenarios. For all we know it’s not a boyfriend.”

“I just can’t believe she wouldn’t tell us. She’s our little girl, she used to tell us everything.” You can now see the sadness in Jessie’s eyes.

“I know, but our little girl is growing up, she’s a moody teenager now, she’s not going to want to share everything with us, and that’s okay.” You sit down next to Jessie, resting your head on her shoulder as you both stare at the door of the office.

“I want her to go back to being so little. I used to be able to hold her in one arm.”

“I know, they both used to be so little.” You and Jessie sat together, your head on her shoulder, reminiscing on the 17 years that seemed to have flown by. Thinking about how small their fingers used to be, how small their clothes were, how they’d babble at you, all of that gone, you now had two grown children.

“We did a pretty good job with them I think. They’re good people.”

“Yeah,” Jessie laughs, “just not to each other.”

“Well they’re siblings.” You respond back. You realize you’ll probably have to talk to your son too about his teasing. “Ready to go talk to her?” You ask Jessie.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to watch her grow up but I don’t think I have a choice.” Jessie says pushing herself off the desk. “Let’s go.”

[rosemaze-reveries]

Hello! I found your blog and love the writing

Here’s sit with me while I tell you my favorite idea 💡

✨So the hunters (all if possible) come back to the manor after a long match of smelling sweat and blood upon walking towards their shred room with reader they catch a scent of their lovers perfume- mind going a mile a minute with the idea of their lover being in they arms and just melting from the stress of the day ✨

Thoughts 💭

ANON. anon...... this is the kind of scenario that makes me CRAZY uegh.. when their judgment's clouded by bloodlust but inhaling your scent brings them back to their senses >>> 🤒 let me be your lighthouse home etc etc. sign me UP.

for some blurbs, this turned into a broader "hunter comes straight to you after a rough match" without the perfume bit. kind of misunderstood the assignment but either way, here's this!

🌪️✂️👘🏳️🏴🦌🐍🪞🎻🔩🐟🕯️

🌪️ Ithaqua brings an air of gloom with him into your bedroom. Driven by nothing but a searing want for you, he skips over any pleasantries to tear off his mask and shove you onto the ground. A bed of wind tries to break your fall, but his impatience gets the better of him; he pins you to the floor with such force that he disrupts his own gale from cushioning your way down. Not that you care in the moment. You’ve been waiting to have him in your arms all day. He leaves a scattering of love bites and wet kisses up your neck.

✂️ Jack has one particular tune that he hums after his worst matches. Months of living together have left you all too familiar with it. His song begins from the foot of the staircase and steadily crisps itself to your ears as he draws nearer. Afraid of the state you might find him in, you rush outside to meet him at the top of the banister. He pauses with one foot on the next step. “Curious,” he says, greeting you with a cordial smile. “It’s not often a little mouse stands in my path—not on purpose.” His blouse is soaked a shade of reddish brown, and no amount of easy banter can hide the weariness in his eye. “Well, you’ve saved me the trouble. I was on my way to ravage you next.”

👘 Michiko drags her nails along the walls of the corridor, leaving a dull streak of blood behind. She doesn’t make a sound when she slips inside your room, practised in her delicate step; you don’t even feel the dip in the mattress before she has her shoulders arched over you. Eyeing you tenderly, she rolls a warm thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m home,” she murmurs. “Your sweet scent led the way again.” She realizes she left a smear of red on your skin, and her hand jerks away, startled by the reminder of what she had been doing just minutes ago.

🏳️ Bi’an’s arms wind around the small of your back, drawing you into his chest for a slow, tender embrace. It’s the first thing he does after returning to the manor: falling straight into your arms. As his lips trail down your forehead, peppering soft kisses in their path, you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. A whisper escapes you about how out of the blue this is, and in response he brings a kiss to the corner of your eye, prompting them to flutter shut. “Let me have you, just for a little while…” Those sweet kisses he’s so good at descend your neck, growing rougher the lower he goes.

🏴 Wujiu’s arms wind around your stomach, pressing his chest flush against your back. He hasn’t uttered a word since returning from his match, aside from a tepid “Nothing worth mentioning” when asked about his day. This sudden affection takes you by surprise. You try to turn your head to face him but he catches your chin, steering your gaze back to the wall. “Don’t look at me.” Whatever is clouding his mind today is better left alone, you realize. You lay your hands on top of his, squeezing them, encouraging him to let your presence blot out everything on his mind. Warm breath fans your collarbone as he nuzzles into your neck, drinking in your scent.

🦌 Bane doesn’t like to discuss his matches. It makes no difference whether they are quick or slow, a win or a lose, they always weigh on him the same way. He sits on the edge of the bed lost in thought. You decide to break the tension first by greeting him with a hug from behind, your chin hooking over his shoulder. Bane isn’t big on physical affection. But after a while he cups a tender hand to your temple, palm taking up the entirety of your face, and presses you gently into him.

🐍 Yidhra might be the hunter most detached from the nightmares of the manor games. They provide nothing but leisure for her, and she’s never felt particularly passionate about them, win or lose. Her followers are the ones who give her the most trouble. When they resist her will, her consciousness splinters apart, some days leaving her too weak to herd them back again. These are typically the days she comes for you. You aren’t sure when she enters your room, but sometimes you catch glimpses of her tail in your peripheral, never to be seen when you’re looking on purpose. Her voice floats in the back of your mind: Mine, mine, mine, mine… There is nothing that binds you to her, yet you’re the only one who never resists her.

🪞 Mary barges into the room clumsily for someone of her poise. She struggles to prop herself against the door, muddy skirt stiff in awkward folds. “My mind is a mess,” she exclaims, voice clear but breathless at the same time. “Where are you? Come settle me.” The second she spots you, she sulks over to toss her arms around your neck, finding a seat in your lap. Clearly she isn’t concerned about observing her usual decorum today. Her dress is heavy and splotched with muck you don’t care to identify, but you don’t mind holding her as the burdens of the day ease off her shoulders.

🎻 Antonio’s fingers instinctively travel to the liquor cart by the window. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but feeling around to find nothing but an empty platter gives him pause. One resigned cluck of his tongue later, you feel tendrils of hair coil around your waist and wrists. They pluck you up from your side of the bed and present you in front of him as if you’re nothing more than a doll. “Not a drop to console me?” he complains, knowing you’ve hidden his bottles again. Then his head tilts slightly, taking in your scent. You can practically see detention’s fiery glow return to his eyes. “No, perhaps you are right—there is something more intoxicating for me here.”

🔩 Percy - “Hm...” He’s scrutinizing you with such intensity that you wonder if something’s on your face. He leans over to take an exaggerated whiff of you, and your heart sinks in offense. You have half a mind to tell him you showered just that morning, so it’s probably not you — besides, he’s the one who’s been tangoing with carcasses all day — but Percy keeps a thoughtful look about him. “You smell full of life,” he muses. “That fragrance you wear, it was popular back in the day. Transports me to the city again.” He would know better than you; you just found this perfume in the trunk of a dusty old room. When he comes closer, clasping either hand around your face, you let him lose himself in the nostalgia. Moments like these are all you have to keep yourselves sane in the manor.

🐟 Grace’s mouth is pulled into a taut frown when she flings open the door. You can see a slight quiver in her lip if you squint. Her harpoon clatters on the ground and she drops onto your bed, braid falling out, face buried in a pillow. There’s little you can do except rub a soothing hand in circles on her back. When she peeks over her arm with a gentle plea in her eyes, you wonder if she’s asking for a deeper massage—but you don’t get the chance to ask before her hand latches onto your forearm, tugging you down to lie with her.

🕯️ Philippe settles for a glass of brandy and his bundle of sketches. He’s resting on the chaise by the foot of the bed, not his work desk where he’d usually be. Rather than drafting new ideas he’s simply thumbing through the old ones, mechanically, breaking from his cycle only for a sip of his glass. It’s like your lover’s been replaced by a puppet. You feel unnerved enough to intervene: stripping him first of his glass, his sketches, then his monocle, you tip him back onto the cushion. You expect him to complain about having to get back to work, but he doesn’t protest. Tonight is for him, you decide. As his dark hair sprawls out beneath him, you straddle his thighs, and his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “I’m terribly jealous of this magic of yours,” he murmurs, faint lilt in his voice. “It’s always you who brings me back from the stars.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

plotwist: delulu reader x delulu azriel😍

” he is so inlove with me ”

” y/n he tried to kill you ”

” yeah but he tried to do it in a careful way 😍🤞 ”

” she is obsessed with me ”

” she called you an ugly bastard and punched you? ”

” i know she loves me���😍 ”

A/n: I was about to reply to this last night, but then I decided it was too funny not to write something. It's a lil blurb hehe 🤭

(Also, should I add this to my masterlist? I don't think I should...?)

•○🌑○•

Y/n bared her teeth in a sneer, glaring at the spymaster who simply stared at her.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am Mor's friend?"

She had been caught as she was trying to enter Velaris to meet up with her friend. Y/n was originally from the Winter Court, and she met Mor through Vivianne. The two of them had become the best of friends since.

Mor was always the one who came to meet Y/n in the Winter Court, and so on her birthday today, Y/n had decided to surprise Mor. She had been sneaking in when Azriel had appeared in fron of her, slashing his knives around.

The two of them had surely seen each other around, at high lords meetings a parties, but Azriel apparently didn't know that Y/n and Mor were friends.

"She'll be here in no time. We can determine then if you are a friend or not." He sneered right back, his eyes, one bruised by the punch she had delivered before being restrained by his shadows, dropping to Y/n's neck, where he'd had his knife not longer than an hour ago, nearly killing her in the process of restraining her.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "What did I even expect from an ugly bastard like you?"

His jaw clenched. "Shut your fucking mouth before I stab my dagger clean through your throat. We'll see how much you talk then."

Before Y/n couldn't retort, Mor and Cassian had appeared in the doorway to the room in which they were in.

Mor gasped, rushing up to Y/n, grinning. The Shadows holding her in place reluctantly let her go, and Y/n hugged Mor while glaring at the shadowsinger.

He rolled his eyes and walked away, iut of the room and, with a last glance at them, the general followed.

Y/n eyed the place where the Spymaster had been a moment before, and then launched into an explanation on what happened.

"Oh mother, he's so in love with me. He's always eyeing me when we see each other."

Mor stared at her incredulously. "Y/n– didn't he just try to kill you?"

"Yeah, but he was very gentle." Y/n wiggled her brows with a shy smile.

Mor scoffed, but then she began laughing. "Oh Y/n, you're so delusional."

•○🌑○•

Azriel's pov.

It had been an hour since he left Y/n in that room with Mor, and he couldn't stop thinking about her. He and Cassian had begun their everyday training sin after the left. Note they were drinking some water.

"What's on your mind?" Cassian asked, gulping down water.

He thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell his brother about his thoughts. "Y/n."

"Mor's friend? What about her?" Cassian filled another glass of water, raising it to take a drink.

"She is obsessed with me. Everytime we see each other, she won't stop staring at me."

The water in the Cassian's mouth came spraying out. "What?! She fucking called you an ugly bastard and punched you?! What makes you think she's obsessed with you?"

"I know she loves me." Azriel smirked, staring off into the distance before he made his way to the exit, leaving Cassian to gape.

•○🌑○•

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi K, congratulations on 3.5K once again!!!! Saw you reblogging your celebration post, reminded I hadn't sent anything in yet due to a busy schedule. Anyway, I'd like to request a blurb for John with the prompt number 10. ''Look at me.''

You're awesome. And hope you have an amazing week this week :)

Thanks so much for sending this in, Merel @twvstedsouls !! I’m sorry it took me so long to write it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

I Don’t Care What They Say

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 736

Summary: John hears what he needs the most after learning about (Y/N)’s parents’ opposition of their engagement.

“Why the long face, darlin’?” John Shelby asked his fianceé a few seconds after she entered the room he’d been sitting in. He immediately nodded the downcast expression that she was wearing and wasted no time getting to the bottom of what was bothering her.

“I don’t want to talk about it, John,” she answered with a sigh as she took her coat off and hung it up by the door. “It’s nothing, really. There’s not much that can be done about it. It’ll pass over.”

“It’s not ‘nothing’ if it’s got you looking like that. So what’s wrong?” he gently prodded her for the answer.

(Y/N) finally looked in his direction, and she stood still for a few moments, thinking on whether she should share the conversation she’d just had. John had an expectant look on his face, one that told her she wasn’t getting out of this so easy. So with a sigh, she dropped her gaze to the floor. It’d be easier for her to get it out if she didn’t see his reaction.

“My parents don’t agree with our engagement.”

The breath got stuck in John’s throat. It felt like the world had stopped for a moment as her words sunk into his mind. His eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to make sense of it. “What…what did they say?” he stumbled on his words, not sure if he wanted to hear more about it or not.

“They said that you’re no good for me. That I can find someone much better than you,” she answered, her heart breaking as she watched him process what she was saying. The words left such a bad taste in her mouth, and repeating them made her recount the long lecture her parents had given her about her choice.

John blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around what her parents had said about their engagement. Thoughts started seeping in; ones telling him that he actually wasn’t good enough for her, and that she was going to heed to her parents advice. He dropped his eyes to the floor, swallowing thickly as he brought his hand up. He waved it around as he tried to think of what he wanted to say next. “And what do you say?…about our engagement,” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut for extra measure. He didn’t want to see her reaction.

If it wasn’t broken before, (Y/N)’s heart shattered at the sound of his voice as he forced his question out. She could tell that his mind was reeling; that he was fighting so hard to keep himself together. “Hey,” she called out, hoping to get his attention, but to no avail. “John. Look at me,” she continued, not wanting to say anything else without his eyes on hers. She wanted him to see how much she meant every word.

Slowly John lifted his eyes to meet hers again. He placed his hands on his knees, bracing himself for what would come next. It was in that moment that he wished he could be more like Tommy or Polly, so that he’d be able to read her expression and gain some clues from it.

After what felt like minutes of waiting, (Y/N) spoke again. “I don’t care what they say about our engagement. I’m marrying you, John Shelby,” she said, her words ringing out loud and clear. “They don’t have control over what I do. I’m old enough to make my own choices, and I choose you. I’m always going to choose you.”

“You are?” he just had to check, well aware that he sounded like a child in doing so.

“Yes,” she nodded, “I can’t wait to marry you. Nothing anyone says against it is going to change my mind.”

A breath of relief left John’s lips then, and all of the built up tension quickly resolved within seconds. “You have no idea how happy hearing you say that makes me, (Y/N),” he told her, shaking his head as a relieved smile formed on his face.

“You have no idea how happy you make me, John,” she countered, moving over to where he was sitting as a similar smile formed on her face. “Me and you…no one else matters.”

“No one else matters,” he repeated the ending of her statement, standing from his seat so that he could kiss her.

*tags in reblog so they hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

[just-some-random-blogger]

Okay so here’s my request for a blurb…💕

Think of that one scene where Tormund is talking to the hound about Brienne but instead of Brienne it’s the reader (fem Y/N). The readers a hard woman and hasn’t given in to Tormund because she’s secretly with Sandor.

So basically the hound being jealous that tormund is into his woman.

Preferably NSFW if it’s too long to get to NSFW no worries.

⭐️( PS: i love your writing for the hound, barely anyone else gets it right!)

Save Me A Bowl

"A pretty thing for a pretty thing," Tormund says, holding up a small flower, not yet bloomed. I raise my brows at the white bud, "do I look like a thing to you?"

Sandor Clegane x Reader x Tormund Giantsbane | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, jealousy, whipped!Tormund, fluff?, casually implied sex, typos, etc.

A/N: UR NOT ABOUT TO CATCH ME SLIPPIN ON MY POST STREAK. Once I post this, I'd have finished all my requests which is such a slay for this girl 🥹🫶. It has been quite a while since I got this req tho, so I hope you enjoy it nonnie 🫶 also.... I haven't actually reached this part of GoT yet HAHAHAHAHAH it's fine tho I think I know enough to write it lmao

Sandor was not very affectionate, at least not in the noticeable kind. In truth, neither was I, though I suppose it's because you don't really have the time to think about such things when there was a war at hand.

However, I would say I didn't shy from checking on him, nor from asking him to accompany me. I definitely didn't shy from going out of my way to sit next to him, nor from leaning into him when it got too cold. The same could be said about him, I think.

In my opinion, my relationship with Sandor was rather obvious, though we never spoke about it, especially on the multiple accounts I've announced I'd be heading back to my tent and have the Hound immediately follow after me. If anything, I thought it was at least crystal clear what we were up to after the fact.

This was why I turned to Brienne when Tormund began harking nonsense. She and I had been huddled by the fire, finishing a bowl of soup when he came around.

"Is he trying to seduce you?"

"Don't look at me," says Brienne in between spoonfuls, "I am not the one he directs such gaudy poetry to."

I raise my brows as I turn back to Tormund who immediately smiles at me. I find myself sparing a smile back just to get his oration over with.

Ever since then, Tormund went out of his way to tire my ear with the sound of his voice, telling me tall tales of his life and his people. To be honest, I didn't mind it. In fact, I was partially entertained by some of his stories.

Showy as he was, he was harmless for the most part, and so I just let him do what he wanted. Eventually, his yapping would earn him a bowl to head and a threat to shut his trap. It worked out for me the men had much less patience for him than I did.

Little did I know, Sandor just about lost his patience with him.

I have to stop eating so I can get a laugh out of my system. The orange haired man laughs with me and concludes his story. He sighs, "you're the only fun one on this side of the fucking wall."

I shake my head and continue eating my food, "you mistake my tolerance of you as solidarity with your humor."

"Yet you laugh," Tormund raises a thick brow.

I shrug and swallow a mouthful before replying, "because you are fool."

"Fool enough to make you laugh," he says, standing from his seat beside me. He seems to look for something in his pocket.

I barely spare him a glance as he tells me, he's forgotten something, "I'll be right back."

Just as he runs off, I see Sandor and smile at him. He seems not to notice me and sits in a spot across from me. I immediately stand and come up next to him. I sit next to him, "took you a while."

Sandor ignores me.

I nudge him when he does not respond.

He side eyes me then begins to eat.

I raise a brow at his ignorance, "has something happened?"

He grunts then snaps, "why don't you ask that ginger fuck."

I frown.

"You seem keen of his company," Sandor glare, "you even laugh at his rancid jokes."

I furrow my brows.

Just then, Tormund comes back. He looks for me a moment, then beams when he spots me.

He runs up to me and Sandor; I feel Sandor stiffen against me.

"A pretty thing for a pretty thing," Tormund says, holding up a small flower, not yet bloomed.

I raise my brows at the white bud, "do I look like a thing to you?"

"The prettiest thing in the south," Tormund grins.

I release a breath.

I look over my shoulder and realize Sandor has stopped eating in lieu of glaring at Tormund. I'm about to speak, but I'm beaten to the chase.

"Fuck off, filthy minge," Sandor growls.

Tormund turns to him. His upper lip curls, "I wasn't speaking to you, smelly mutt."

Sandor stands and the two impose upon each other.

I immediately set my bowl down and step between them. I push them both on their chests, but neither budge. I hiss, "enough."

"You heard the woman," Tormund says, "get lost."

"I-"

"She was talking about you, you yapping fuck," Sandor snarls.

Before they can jump at each other's throats, I step back and yell, "ENOUGH, I SAID."

Sandor and Tormund stare at me.

"It's been a long day," I snap, "I'm not in the mood to soothe two whining bitches."

Tormund nods, "right!"

I narrow my eyes, "Tormund-"

"Yes?" he immediately retorts.

"- fuck off."

He opens his mouth but is too taken aback to say anything.

"You've been too busy picking flowers to notice that I'm with Sandor."

Tormund stares at me blankly.

"He's the one warming my tent."

He is aghast.

Sandor's face is blank, but he seems otherwise pleased as he sits back down and continues to eat.

The ginger steps forward and reaches out, "but I-"

"Keep your fucking hands to yourself," Sandor stands again, "if you know what's good for you."

Tormund glares at Sandor.

I sigh, "I told you you were a fool."

Tormund deflates. He walks off silently.

Sandor pulls me by the arm as he sits, sitting me down next to me, "good fucking riddance. Finally some quiet."

I roll my eyes at him, "you know," I pull my arm away, "this wouldn't have happened if I-"

"Fucked you harder?" he says in between chewing, "aye. I know better now."

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Best Friends, Is That All? - Stiles Stilinski

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

•Pairing - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Just a regular ride in Stilesʼ jeep…Or it would be, if the love-struck fool could stop asking you how you feel about him. Guess someone's got a different kind of ride in mind...

•Warnings/Content - Pretty much all bases covered, they definitely fuck, tons of begging and mentions of markings and scratching, they use a condom bc SAFETY, oral oral lots of oral, TONS of petnames sorry its cheesy ik but I canʼt help it, lots of praise too bc thatʼs tasty, oh yeah and boys whimpering bc thatʼs just hot asf, they're in love so it's a little fluffier but still VERY spicy

•Word Count - 4.5k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - As always, just want to write about the spicy ideas I get from having spicy dreams, I feel like this oneʼs a little better than the last one but who knows? >_< /// (YA'LL I EXPECTED LIKE 4 LIKES ON MY SPENCER BLURB AND I GOT OVER 200 TY????? WTF???? )

•Additional Tags - they fuck in the jeep!, stiles is a whore for begging, theyʼre obsessed with eachother ffs, Switch!Stiles but mostly Sub!Stiles, he talks her through it UGH YES, CONSENT IS KEY, heʼs okay with whatever even if that means he doesnʼt get laid, Stiles is one cocky SOB with BDE and just a big dick oops, theyʼre for sure gonna fuck again before the night is over hehehe

“Do you get nervous?ˮ

The question takes me by surprise - Up until now, it had been a normal, routine drive with Stiles, albeit more fidgety than usual from his side. But once the question has left his lips, heʼs even more so, if thatʼs possible.

“Do I…yeah, definitely. Of course I do.ˮ I quirk my eyebrow at him; Heʼs avoiding my eyeline, focused far too much on the road ahead.

Something else, another question maybe, passes his lips, but itʼs far too quiet for me to catch. The poor thing is redder than a tomato, tapping his hands on the wheel as he starts to drive just a little faster unknowingly.

“Huh?ˮ

“A-About…M-mmmmm.ˮ Stiles stutters, dragging out his thought. The jeep seems to follow its driver, stuttering a bit on the road as he pushes the pedal down further.

“Sti, are you okay?ˮ

“Nervous.ˮ He repeats the word like heʼs reading it from a dictionary, not like heʼs using it as a self description. Weʼre getting further into the back roads now, and if I didnʼt know any better, Iʼd think he was bringing me out here to kill me or something.

“Pull over a sec, yeah?ˮ

He nods, bringing the jeep to a crawl along a forest road that could more accurately be called a trail, if anything. The silence is filled only by the bumping of the tires on the gravel, until we reach a stopping point, surrounded by nothing but trees for miles.

“Whatʼs eating at you, Stilinski?ˮ I turn in my seat, eyeing him in the mid-day light. Filtered through the jeepʼs dusty windows, he looks like a modern god, and my heart can hardly take it. Iʼve loved this poor boy a long time, but Iʼve never been brave enough to say it. And now, weʼre all alone in the woods for who knows what reason, and Iʼm more nervous than ever.

“Dʼyou ever get nervous…about me?ˮ He manages, his eyes squeezing shut and his fists clenching tight. He lets out a huge breath, then continues in a ramble, “God, I canʼt believe I even just asked that. Holy shit. I mean, you make me so nervous. Dʼyou know that? Youʼre my best friend, and you make me so nervous I feel like I canʼt even breathe, I want you to just reach over and break the distance between us and give in and just take me. God-ˮ

“Sti.ˮ It comes out half-choked. The lump in my throat swells - oh, my god, he likes me too? - as I scoot ever closer to him.

“Oh, of course not,ˮ He sighs, eyes still closed. He doesnʼt see me shift again, within touching distance, he just keeps on with his nervous blabber. “I mean, someone as beautiful as you with a guy like me? Come on, Stiles, get real.ˮ

“Stiles. Look at me, damn it.ˮ Hands shaking, Iʼm reaching over to touch him when he listens to me, turning and looking all in one motion.

“Oh, hi there.ˮ He blurts, flushing crimson.

“Yes, I get nervous about you, too.ˮ I can hardly believe Iʼm uttering the words. But my fear is trumped by the desperate need for him, right here and right now. I canʼt believe of all times and places, this is where itʼs gonna happen, but I donʼt quite care at the same point, either.

“You do?ˮ

“Stiles, I can barely contain myself around you. These past few months especially, I just-ˮ My reaching hands are still hanging near him, and he notices, finally, taking them in his own. I let out a shaking breath, closing my own eyes in desperate need to escape his searching gaze that sends my pulse skyrocketing. “You-Youʼre everything, do you know that? Iʼve wanted to tell you for so long, but I didnʼt think youʼd even look at me like that, I just thought-ˮ

“Best friends, nothing more?ˮ He chuckles softly, and I can sense the way his lips curl, not even needing to see it to know it. “Yeah, sounds familiar. Hey, look at me. I like you, you idiot.ˮ

My eyes open at the last few words, and seeing it straight from his mouth makes me lose myself for a moment. All I can do is blankly stare, my stomach doing flips. He likes me, he likes me, he likes me!

“Can you say something?ˮ He groans, eyes flicking between my own and down to my mouth. “Like, maybe confirm to me that you like me back? I mean, you kinda said as much, but I just really wanna hear you say it. Can you say it? Is that okay? Youʼre killing me, here-ˮ

“I like you too. Of course I do, who wouldnʼt?ˮ

“You do. For sure? Not just tryna pity me, are you?ˮ He quips, but itʼs clearly halfhearted.

“I really like you, dumbass.ˮ I move closer, dying for something to happen. Anything.

“Are you gonna kiss me now? Or am I gonna kiss you? Somebodyʼs gotta kiss somebody here, or Iʼm gonna lose it. Please, Iʼm begging you.ˮ

“Oh, youʼre begging me now?ˮ I smirk.

“Absolutely I am. If we were outside Iʼd be on my knees for you. Please, just fucking-ˮ He lets go of my hands, reaching for my waist as I grab at his collar.

We meld like itʼs second nature, lips forming together with a satisfied groan from Stiles that makes my legs weak. Somehow, I climb onto him in this cramped little jeep, bumping the steering wheel with my ass. He laughs, almost immediately going back to kissing me, a bit harder now. Itʼs clear in the way I grind my hips down to him with what I feel rising back to meet me that this is gonna take up a lot of our time together today.

I wonder for a moment if anyone will assume what weʼve gotten up to. Of course, Allison knows how I feel about Stiles, Iʼve told her a million times. I wonder if heʼs told Scott. Iʼm sure he has.

“Youʼre thinking too much,ˮ He growls, biting my lip. I moan back. “Thatʼs a lot coming from me,ˮ Another kiss, coming down my jaw now as I catch my breath. “I know. But…what can I do to get your mind back to me, hmm?ˮ

“That. Keep doing that.ˮ My hands tangle in the back of his hair, the tousled sort-of-waves that have grown out as of late being tugged as he nips at my neck.

“You want me to keep begging for you too?ˮ He teases, his lips coming up to my ear. “Cause I can do that all day, baby.ˮ

I nod, unable to grasp words with his breath against me.

“You gonna let me take you here, right now? Itʼs killing me to feel you on me like this and not have you. Please, let me have you, I canʼt stand it.ˮ

“T-tell me what you want me to do.ˮ I grasp harder at his hair, and he lets out a whimper. Oh, my god, that.

“I want you to fuckinʼ destroy me, and Iʼll beg until you do. God, Iʼm shameless, I donʼt even care if weʼre out here all alone or not, just please for the love of fuck, ride me like nothing else matters.ˮ

I pull his lips back to mine, silencing him for a time as we continue to make our own rhythm, learning one another with moans and laughs and tension unparalleled. Itʼs great, too great-I smack my head against the jeepʼs roof, letting out a yelp.

“Oh, shit-ˮ Stiles pulls me down against him, biting his lip when I land.

“Iʼm okay. Ow.ˮ

“How about we move this to the back?ˮ He pops the door open, letting me out first. Despite his words, heʼs back on my neck the moment weʼre outside, making it hard for me to push the seat down to get into the back.

“Stiles…ˮ I sigh, fumbling with the latch.

“Sorry, just want you-god, just want you so bad.ˮ He pulls back, reaching forward and sending the seat down with a practiced grasp.

I clamber inside, watching him hyperfocus on giving us as much room as possible. Front seats pushed down and forward, clutter thrown into the front, then heʼs back on me, kissing me and tugging at my shorts.

“Can I…?ˮ He motions, and I nod, letting him pull them down. His lips come back to mine, his fingers playing at the edge of my panties.

“Please-ˮ

“Youʼre begging now?ˮ He chuckles, his voice lower and throatier. Gods, Iʼm wet as fuck just from that.

“Shamelessly.ˮ I echo his earlier words, earning another small laugh.

“You want me, baby? How bad?ˮ He teases, hand grasping at my hip.

“Real-Really bad. Want you so bad, want you to-ˮ I canʼt even finish the thought, as he presses against my clit with his thumb. I moan, bucking up against him.

“Sorry, Iʼm impatient, you know that.ˮ He amends, kissing down my jaw and pulling back. He sits me up against the door, pulling my legs up and pressing a deep kiss against my opening. “Youʼre soaking, I can tell even through these little things.ˮ

I shudder, eyeing him in between my legs. Itʼs a sight to behold, and he isnʼt even getting started yet.

“Howʼs about we take em off, huh? Donʼt need these where weʼre going.ˮ He discards the fabric, and when his eyes meet the heat pooling below my belly, his jaw goes slack. I could almost swear he was drooling.

For a moment, Iʼm self conscious, folding in on my body under his gaze. But he holds my thighs back down, shaking his head.

“Uh-uh. No shame, right, princess?ˮ He hovers over me, eyes flicking back and forth between his focus and my face. “Now, you just let me know what feels good and what doesnʼt, okay? Wanna make sure you enjoy yourself.ˮ

“Stiles, Iʼm dying here, please just touch me already.ˮ

He smirks, another shake of the head, this one with a cocky air to it.

“If you insist, sweetheart.ˮ He brings his lips down to meet my opening, licking a stripe up that sends my hands grasping at the jeepʼs seat.

“Sti-ˮ

He hums against me, his grip on my thighs tightening. A few more precise licks, and heʼs delving into my core, filling the jeep with my desperate cries. Fuck, heʼs good, and Iʼm already closer by the minute.

“Taste so good, baby…ˮ He murmurs, getting lost in the task as my hands tug at his hair. When he shifts up to suck at my clit, the noise it brings from me is almost inhuman. “Feel good?ˮ

“Yes- oh my god, yes-ˮ

“Want more? How does this feel, hmm?ˮ He presses a finger to my opening, and I push against him, wordlessly begging. He chuckles, pushing it in fluidly. One, a few motions, and clearly Iʼm still desperate so he adds in another. “Talk to me, baby. Use your words.ˮ

“You want me to talk right now?ˮ I moan, my mind spinning in the pleasure-filled void heʼs trapped me in.

“I know, itʼs just too good, huh? You donʼt have to talk, your noises are more than enough.ˮ He curls his fingers, pulling against a sweet spot that has me crying out.

“Stiles!ˮ

Back down to me with his lips now, too, I can feel the smirk that starts up hearing me say his name like that. He knows exactly where he has me, and heʼs gonna relish in it. Not only are his fingers working magic now, but along with his tongue? Iʼm gonna break, and he knows it.

“Iʼm-Oh, donʼt stop-ˮ

A hummed approval is all I get from the usually chatty lips of Stiles Stilinski, his beard that heʼs let grow in recently brushing over me while he brings me to the edge. Iʼm practically drowning in the pleasure, and heʼs the air I need. One more fluid motion, just the right one, and Iʼm spilling curses from my mouth and wetness from my heat. He laps it up heartily, a satisfied groan from the recess of his throat vibrating against me.

“You…I just…wow.ˮ He pauses for a moment to look over me with a smile beginning to tug at the corner of his lips. I flush, back to being nervous under his eye.

“Stunned you into silence, eh, Stilinski?ˮ

“Oh, Iʼm far from done. Just figured Iʼd give you a break.ˮ He quips with a smirk.

“I donʼt need one.ˮ I blurt, the words faster than my brain.

“No?ˮ He laughs. “Okay, then. Well, if thatʼs the case, Iʼm begging you to get back to being all over me.ˮ

“In what way?ˮ I smirk, looking at his coated fingers.

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Funny.ˮ Keeping up eye contact, he licks his fingers clean. He seems to enjoy the groan it elicits from me. “Like that, huh? Iʼm looking forward to finding out what else you like.ˮ

I sit up, pressing to him once again. He tastes like me, and chuckles against my kiss. The clink of undoing his belt buckle becomes the sounds of rustling fabrics, my shirt tossed, his gone. His chest to mine, warm and inviting, and his pants kicked to the side. I fumble with my bra, my cheeks red.

“I…ˮ

“Yʼknow we can stop anytime, yeah?ˮ He amends, sensing my hesitation. “Like, of course Iʼm okay with whatever, I want you in all the ways. But only if youʼre comfortable. Consentʼs important.ˮ

“Oh, I want you. I want all of you, of course I do.ˮ I sigh. “Just…real nervous about how I look.ˮ

“You?ˮ Heʼs incredulous, pulling back and sweeping my body with his gaze. “Holy shit, no way. Nuh uh. You, youʼre…God, youʼre gorgeous, are you kidding me? Every part of you fits just right with the other, promise. You donʼt have to do anything you donʼt wanna do, but you gotta know that. You gotta know Iʼm gonna love how you look. I donʼt even need to have seen it yet to know. You just…are.ˮ

Iʼve been rendered speechless, and all I can do is take it off while he rambles.

“Not to say that you gotta just cause Iʼm saying all this. You get that, right? Iʼm not saying it just to get you to-ˮ He stops cold when Iʼve tossed the bra, my hands still hiding the majority of my chest. With a gentle grasp, he reaches to uncover me. “Can I…?ˮ

“Yeah, Iʼm just nervous.ˮ

“Thatʼs okay. Me, too. Youʼre beautiful though.ˮ He lifts my cover away softly, eyeing me with precision and adoration. He pokes at the moles and freckles that adorn my upper body, smiling as his eyes meet mine again. “See? Perfect. Nothing to worry about.ˮ

“Stiles, I adore you.ˮ I blurt, tears starting to form.

“Oh, sweetie.ˮ He pulls me closer, kissing my nose. “We can stop if youʼre really too nervous. I donʼt mind. Iʼll just jack off later or something, no big.ˮ

I snort at his words. “As much as Iʼd love to watch that. No, Iʼm okay. Just needed a moment, I guess. Trust me, Iʼm still dying for you.ˮ

His face goes red. “Youʼd- huh? Wow, thatʼs an image. Maybe another time, yeah? No shortage of things to think about for that, especially now Iʼve seen you and itʼs not just my imagination spurring me on.ˮ

“Youʼll have more to go on soon, too.ˮ I pull him back down onto me, kissing him.

“Fuck, youʼre hot.ˮ He moans. “Youʼre killing me.ˮ

“Destroying you,ˮ I correct him. “Thatʼs what you wanted, isnʼt it?ˮ

“Still want it,ˮ He grasps at me, nothing but his boxers to hide that want now. “Very much still want it.ˮ

More kissing ensues, and weʼre groping at eachother like weʼre high-schoolers again. Somehow, at some point, heʼs as bare as I am now and the way weʼre pressed to one another is the most tempting thing Iʼve ever experienced in my entire life.

“Hey, so, uh- not to seem like a copycat or anything, but…ˮ He breathes against my lips, his voice catching. “Yʼknow, nervous about how I look, now that Iʼm thinking about it. Not really very manly of me, I know, whatever.ˮ

“Fuck manliness,ˮ I amend, letting him pull back. “Youʼre perfect, you…oh, how could you not be?ˮ

What a sight he is to behold, in all his naked glory. Goosebumps pepper my skin as I look him over, from the moles that adorn him across his body the same way they do across his face, to the burning red that sits underneath his pale skin…to of course what heʼs referencing concern over the most. And thereʼs certainly none needed, in my opinion. No concerns, except how Iʼm gonna need to stretch out around that. Oh, my.

“Stiles…ˮ My voice, my gaze, softens. His shoulders drop. “Youʼre stunning.ˮ

“Not just saying that, are you?ˮ He brushes non-existent dirt from his shoulder. “My ego will be sorely bruised.ˮ

“Should I tell you or should I show you?ˮ I lick my lips, gaze going between his legs and back to his face. The noise he makes would be comical in any other circumstance.

“Fuck, definitely show me.ˮ

Now, itʼs his turn to lie back, and Iʼm in control. I must have absolutely stunned him, because heʼs got nothing to say, just watching me as I lower over him. Once I begin to kiss at and lick stripes over him, though, heʼs got plenty to say - I donʼt recognize half the curses he lets fly, they must be Polish or something. But fly they do, and his hand is at my hair when I start to take him in my mouth, grasp tight.

“Oh, my god-ˮ

I keep it up until he stops me a few moments later, a funny little quirk to his brows.

“God, I donʼt ever wanna stop this, but if you keep going like that Iʼm gonna fuckinʼ bust, and I gotta know what you feel like riding me first, please?ˮ He reaches blindly around, cursing. “Fuckinʼ - just need my wallet, whereʼd my jeans go?ˮ

I laugh, pulling back to help his search. When he comes up with the item in question, I understand- protection, no shit.

“Yeah, okay, now Iʼm ready.ˮ He nods after heʼs prepared himself, sitting up against the seat. He helps position me over him, eyes locked. “Oh, my god, is this actually real? I feel like Iʼm in some kinda magical dream.ˮ

“Very real. I remember what I had for breakfast and everything.ˮ I quip, trying to ease the nerves. They wonʼt go, though, and the knot in my stomach is ever-tighter as he brushes against my opening. “Fuck, I want you inside me, now.ˮ

“Kinda up to you, there.ˮ He holds me tight around the waist, eyes pleading. “Iʼm ready when you are, though, rock my fuckinʼ world sweetheart.ˮ

“Fuuuuuck, youʼre tight.ˮ He groans. “So thatʼs how you feel. No imagination or anything my hands can do compares to that.ˮ

The need is too great to put it off any longer; I let myself push down to meet him, the entering gasps we let out mingling in the short bit of air between us. His head falls back, his hands only guides as I bring myself further down, slowly, slowly, slowly. I take a moment around the first few inches to breathe; as ridiculous as it sounds, Iʼve never had someone quite as…gifted as him.

“Iʼm only getting started,ˮ I reply. “Genuinely, in all honesty, not a joke or anything. Youʼre…a lot to take.ˮ

“Having fun strokinʼ my ego?ˮ He chuckles.

“Tilʼ you give me something else to stroke.ˮ

“Fuck, thatʼs a promise.ˮ He ruts up against me, bringing a cry from my lips. “Shit, sorry, reflex. You feel so good, I just want more of you. Did I hurt you?ˮ

“No, it felt too good.ˮ I admit. “Just taking it slow cause Iʼm not really used to anything this…ˮ

“Big?ˮ Heʼs got the widest smirk on his face now.

“Howʼs that for your precious ego?ˮ I flirt, pushing down another bit with a sharp breath. The stretching pain is worth it for the look on his face.

“My ego is just fine. Big, just like my- Oh, my god-ˮ He stutters out, his bravado going out the window when I start to rock my hips back and forth. And was that a whimper? “Oh, please donʼt stop, keep going. Oh, god-ˮ

“Long as you keep begging.ˮ

The more I move, the easier it gets to take him, until Iʼm fairly close to bottoming out. Heʼs holding me closer than ever, kissing me whenever he gets the chance to, and the noises and whimpers havenʼt stopped. It spurs me, the collision of our bodies growing ever-faster as he cries my name and begs me not to stop. I wonʼt, I canʼt, itʼs all too good and Iʼm chasing a high that I find myself soon riding out onto him. Now, Iʼll be the one saying his name, his real name.

“God, that sounds so good coming from you,ˮ He moans, “Iʼve never heard it sound so good.ˮ

“Hereʼs to many more.ˮ I stutter out between the motions weʼre making and the sounds accompanying. Heʼs less in control now, thrusting up to meet me and pushing me down to him. Heʼs made plenty of marks on me, from the hickeys littering my skin to the surefire bruising my hips will have from his grasp. I can only hope to either hide whatʼs visible or risk the teasing the pack will no doubt give us later.

“Please, take me all the way, Iʼll help you through it.ˮ He begs, kissing me again once Iʼve come down far enough. “Youʼve got this, baby, please?ˮ

No words, just a resolute nod, and his response is a repeated thanks. I push further, to the very end of him, my nails digging into his shoulders.

“Good, baby- fuck , youʼre doing good, pretty girl. So good, so good for me. There you go.ˮ He kisses my burning skin, the devouring fire weʼve made together consuming us both as I shift around under his grasp. He doesnʼt force, only guides, and makes a rhythm for me to follow with sputtered curses abounding. “God, you feel so good. Does it feel good for you? Hurt?ˮ

“Only enough to make me want it more,ˮ I moan, letting my head drop to his shoulder. “F-fuck me.ˮ

“Is that a statement or a request?ˮ He doesnʼt wait for an answer as I slow, taking the lead and snapping up into me. Once, twice, I lose count. He seems to get lost, too, senseless mumbles and moans filling the jeep as my hand streaks the fogged window. Heʼs entirely filled me up, and I want for nothing more than to go until I canʼt anymore.

He guards my head when I raise back up, making sure I wonʼt hit the roof again, and when it starts to rain in the secluded forest weʼve hidden ourselves in, itʼs not the only thing sending waves crashing down around us. Another thing I lose count of - heʼs far too good at this, and I tell him so.

“Been thinkinʼ about this for a while, so that counts as practice, yeah?ˮ The sweat sticks a bit of his hair to his forehead, and he looks about ready to tire out.

“You losing steam on me?ˮ I tease, brushing his hair back.

“Hell, no!ˮ He groans when I move my hips, sat bottomed out but doing nothing else. “Iʼm pretty close, thatʼs all. But when Iʼm done with you here Iʼm not done with you for the night, if youʼre willing.ˮ

“Well, if youʼre close…ˮ My lips curl deviously, and I bring myself back to the pace and movement that had had him howling earlier. Heʼs back to it in an instant, but his whines are more pronounced, drug out.

“Fuck, please, please donʼt stop-ˮ

“Gonna cum for me?ˮ

“Y-yes, yes-ˮ

“Good.ˮ Itʼs like a growl from me, and his cries only grow from it, until Iʼm sure at least anyone with supernatural hearing can catch onto us if theyʼre anywhere near.

“Oh- Oh, my god, Iʼm gonna-ˮ Stiles holds me tight, the most animalistic noise of it all loosing from his lips as he loads the condom full inside me. Weʼre hot, sweaty, and as close together as we possibly can be, but he still pulls me closer, taking a deep, heavy breath.

“So…how was I?ˮ

His laugh is quick, choked.

“Are you serious? Fuck, that was amazing. Iʼd just as soon do it again, but Iʼm…a little depleted at the moment.ˮ He eyes where we meet with an eyebrow wiggle. “Hey, we just had sex.ˮ

“That we did.ˮ I laugh.

“You and me, best friends. Just had sex. Well, we might wanna rethink that whole just best friends idea, huh?ˮ He kisses my cheek, letting out a content sigh. “No rush on that, Iʼm just talking. You know how I get. Just…excited that this happened. That it is happening. And…Iʼd be okay with calling you something more than my best friend. If youʼre into that.ˮ

“Very much into that.ˮ

“So…girlfriend?ˮ

“Shit, I was gonna say fiancee or wife. Or soulmate.ˮ

His eyes bug for a moment, then he starts to laugh.

“Youʼre fuckinʼ with me. Youʼre hilarious. Alright, girlfriend-future-fiancee-wife-soulmate-whatever-you-want, howʼs that sound?ˮ

“A little long, if Iʼm being honest.ˮ

“Long didnʼt seem to bother you just a moment ago.ˮ

“Mieczyslaw!ˮ

“Still sounds beautiful cominʼ from you. Like…ˮ He catches my glare, and smirks. “Nevermind. Letʼs get this cleaned up and head back, huh? Thereʼs a pizza about to be made with our names on it.ˮ

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Kakashi x book store reader

2250 words

♦️mentions smut but nothing actually happens

“Hey Kakashi, how was your last mission?” You rest your head in your palm as you lean against the counter. The bookshop was empty except for the white haired avid reader who would always stop in between missions to get some new reading material.

“Uneventful. It was mostly traveling so I was able to finish the last book you recommended.” He bashfully scratched his cheek as he avoided eye contact. “Did any more icha icha books come out yet?.”

“Not yet, but rumor has it he's supposed to be releasing another one soon. When I get one in you'll be the first to know.” You push off the counter and grab a small paper bag from the shelf behind you. Sliding the bag over to Kakashi, he looks interested but doesn't say anything. “In the meantime I think you'll like this book.”

He opened the bag and inspected the small book carefully. There was no description on the back and the cover simply had the title ‘wayward travelers’ printed on the front. Looking inside there wasn't even an ‘about the author’ blurb. “Hmmm? Well this certainly looks mysterious.”

“It's by a new author who hasn't even decided on a pen name yet, but the story itself is pretty good. Try it out and if you don't like it I'll do a full refund.” You say nonchalantly.

“No need for the trouble. You've given good recommendations before and I'm sure this one will be fine too.” You smile as he puts some coins on the counter and heads towards the door. “I'm heading out for my next mission but I'll let you know about the book when I get back.”

You wave as he leaves but once he's out of sight you clutch your chest as soon as the door bell rings shut. Heart thundering like a war drum you struggle to calm your nerves. You gave him the book and you kept a solid poker face while you did it. Everything will be fine, it'll be fine…it has to be. Now all that's left to do is calm your racing anxieties and wait for him to come back.

The next week was worse than torture. Thoughts constantly drifting back to Kakashi and the fear of how he would react to the book. It's far from the first time you have given him smut, actually that's mostly what he reads, but what would he think if he found out you wrote it?! You tried to shake the thought from your head but it kept creeping back into your skull. No, you're sure he didn't see your nervousness when you gave it to him, there's no way he can find out.

Not being able to take the book back was the biggest issue. Would he be able to tell that you were the one who wrote it? What if the writing was bad? What if the kinks you put in he doesn't like! Insecurities clawed at the back of your mind like a beast digging at a cage.

Suddenly, you're dragged out of your thoughts from the bell chiming above the door.

Putting on your best customer service smile you turn and greet whoever came in. “Welcome to the book stop, let me know if you have any questions.” an older woman thanked you and made her way to the back of the store. Before the thoughts of your book could return the bell rang again. You had to swallow the lump in your throat when you saw the handsome silver haired shinobi approaching the counter. “W-welcome back. How was the mission?” You mentally kick yourself for the stutter, but grateful for the recovery.

“It was easy. Honestly it could have been handled by a chunin, I don't know why they sent a full jounin team.” He slips the book from his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “Gave me a good opportunity to read the book though.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Ah, well… what did you think of it?” You tried so hard to maintain a casual air but you struggled to look him in the eye.

“It was pretty good, some scenes could have been worded better, but for a new author I'd say it's good. I definitely enjoyed it.” Something flashed in his eye. The same look a cat might give to a mouse. It made your heart race just a little faster. Your mouth went a little dry and thankfully Kakashi took your silence as a sign to continue. “You know a lot of authors tend to put a bit of themselves into their characters.” He opened the book and started thumbing through the pages. “Makes me curious about the love interest in this book…”

“Oh really?” You had to fight to keep your voice steady. “What about them?”

Even without looking at him you can feel his dark eye sizing you up. “Not much about their personality, but the way they talk is familiar.” he let out a low hum. “It made me think about who the author took inspiration from.”

Kakashi goes into a full analysis about the character's personalities and how that relates to the author's own personality and experience. The more he talked the more sweaty your palms became. You feared if he leaned over the counter than he'd be able to hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest, pounding at your ribs and making it hard to breathe. Despite everything you still did a good job of keeping a cool demeanor. At least you thought you did.

You were only granted a moment of relief from kakashi's author analysis when the old woman who came in before approached the counter to buy a recipe book. He politely stood off to the side watching you work as you put the woman's book in a bag and sent her on her way with a smile and a wave.

When you turn your attention back to Kakashi you can see his cheeks are raised and you can only imagine the Cheshire smile that he has stretched across his lips. How many hours have you fantasized about what they actually look like?

“Y’know as a Shinobi I don't just read books, in fact I'm quite skilled at reading people too. It's always so easy to tell when someone's keeping a secret from me~” His cool relaxed voice turned into something more melodic and teasing. He returns to leaning against the counter, ever so slightly closing the distance between you two.

“And what exactly do you think I'm keeping from you?” You say with an even and cautious tone.

“The author.”

A chill ran up your spine the moment you heard his words. “And why would you think that I'm the author?” the words fell out of your mouth a little more exasperated than you wanted.

“I never said you were.” Your face went pale as you realized you gave yourself away, and in the stupidest way possible.

“Well I'm not.” You try to sound dignified but the slight wave in your voice makes it obvious to him and yourself that you're lying, and doing a poor job at it.

Kakashi lets out a slight chuckle. “It really was a good book. Honestly if I didn't spend so much time talking to you I don't think I would have picked up on the nuances. You write like how you talk, almost like you are telling the story yourself.” He leans over the counter and tilts his head. A look that any under any other circumstances would have been cute but now only makes you feel more vulnerable.

It was getting harder to maintain eye contact with how flustered you'd become. “Okay you figured out it was me. You can go let me die of embarrassment in peace now.” You tried to save what little dignity you felt you had left and buried your face in your hands.

You begrudgingly moved your hands when you heard his siren call of a laugh. “Next time you want to write smut about a ‘hot rogue shinobi’ how about you name him Sukea.”

“Oh, so now you want to write my characters?” you can't help but laugh a little as you return some of his playfulness. Exasperation pushed your embarrassment to the back of your mind temporarily.

“Not at all” He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I just think if I'm going to be the inspiration then I should give you something to work with. Don't you think~” again that look flashes in his eye. Something predatory and mischievous at the same time. A single look that's enough to send goosebumps across your skin.

“What did you have in mind?” Again under his gaze your confidence wavered. He didn't seem to mind though as he started walking around the counter, slowly creeping up on you.

“hmmm~ How about a weary shinobi returns from his long, hard mission… finally back in the comfort of his village he finds the one person he's had his eye on for years but still hasn't said anything to them. Nothing romantic at least.” Slowly he keeps moving forward until he's practically on top of you. One more step and you step back, your back pressed against the wall. “Eventually, our hero works up the courage to ask his favorite shop keep to go to a public hot spring with him. Somewhere he can relax after his mission.” Your bodies are now pressed against each other. You can feel his body heat radiating off of him. You're actually close enough to see the smallest tint of pink dusting his cheeks right above his mask. “But of course we need a plot twist. The bath house is full so there's nothing else to do but get a private bath just for the two of them.” His hands made their way to your waist and slid back to barely ghost over your ass before going to rest just above your thighs. A light squeeze before his hands explore just a little more.

You are so caught up in the moment that you never realized how much faster your heartbeat was, how ragged your breathing had become, or how you simply stared at his eye, totally mesmerized by his words.

Your heart leaps into your throat as the doorbell chimed again. Quickly you turn to see who came in and two young boys noisily made their way to the comic section without giving you a second glance. Your head whips back to look at Kakashi only to see that he's gone.

In the blink of an eye Kakashi was back on the customer side of the counter and the book you wrote laid on the floor where he was just standing. Finally, without the presence of Kakashi's body heat against you, you became painfully aware of just how hot your face was. You were met with a masked shinobi giving you what you assume is a closed eye smile, and he looked just as cool and composed as he always did. Fuck, your heart was ready to bust out of your chest.

“How does that sound for inspiration?” His smooth voice brought you right back to the butterflies in your stomach. What you wouldn't give to go back in time and lock the door before anybody could come in and disturb you. “Maybe you'd like some real experience for reference?” His voice was a little less teasing then his expression showed. Perhaps this was actually a genuine question from him.

It took only a moment for you to find your voice again. “I close the shop at 7.”

Kakashi sat up a little straighter. “Great! I'll meet you outside at 7:30 then.”

“Sounds like a date?” the statement came out more like a question and you intended, but you were just glad that your voice didn't crack. Hope was not something you were used to, especially not in the romance department.

“It sure does~” Your chest suddenly felt lighter, a huge weight being lifted from your shoulders. He pushed himself off the counter and headed towards the door. “See ya later.”

Just as he reached for the doorknob he stopped in his tracks. “Oh, I don't like writing in books, but I left a few notes for the ‘author’. Take a look when you get a chance.” and with that he was gone. The door chimed behind him and you were left alone with your thoughts again.

Finally your body catches up with your brain. You bend down to pick up the book he left behind. Your book. The simple object that started this whole wonderful mess. Once opened your eyes widened on just how many little notes were wedged between the pages. Quotes transcribed with little faces next to them. His opinions on different scenes that you wrote, things he thought were cute or funny. Once again he managed to make your face go bright red when you got halfway through the notes and he described in glorious detail exactly how the sex scenes made him feel. Some of the notes you could tell the penmanship was shaky. A small detail that gave you a bit of a deeper glimpse into how he was feeling. A small detail that made your heart race a little faster.

Perhaps your favorite note that he left was the one that simply said ‘I would love to try this with you, if you'd let me.’.

[avatar-anna]

Hiii can you please write a blurb where its hockey player h getting jealous? It can be at a party or maybe at one of figure skater y/ns competitions?

i did that thing where i took an ask in a different direction, so if this was your request, message me and i'll do an actual jealous fic! i apologize, i was feeling angsty, protective boyfriendrry🤭🤭

trigger warnings: light depictions of sa, coping with sa

i don't pretend to know what it's like to be a victim/survivor or sexual assault, so if there is something that you may find offensive or unrealistic or glorified, please know that was not my intention. feel free to message me if you take issue with this fic, and i'll take it down.

all the love💕💕

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

You were quick to shake your head, stepping away from the guy you'd been talking to. It was just a conversation, nothing more, one you didn't even really want to be having in the first place. But the guy had cornered you in the fraternity's kitchen, and you were looking for a polite way out.

"Uh...no. I'm actually here with my boyfriend," you said.

You hoped that would be the end of it, but instead of backing off he stepped closer. "You don't have to play hard to get, Y/n. I'm already into you, so come on."

Dread started to fill your belly. Peeking over the guy's shoulder, you saw that you were the only ones in the kitchen, and with the loud music playing throughout the house, no one would hear you if you needed to call for help. You hoped you wouldn't need to, but it was all you could think about as he leaned in.

"No," you said, trying to sound firm despite your trembling voice. "I said no, so if you'll excuse me—Get off m—!"

His hand was on your wrists and pushed you roughly into the wall hard enough to hurt. While you were still in a daze from being shoved, he made his move. His mouth, which was not at all like Harry's, was on yours before you could say anything. The guy tasted like stale beer, and his tongue kept trying to push past your tightly closed lips. Your skin crawled every place he touched—under your shirt and skirt, the inside of your thigh—and every time he whispered in your ear and his breath unfurled across your neck. You wanted to call out or push him off but you couldn't. You never thought you would be in this position, and now you were, and you just...froze.

When his lips moved to your neck, you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping if you stayed still enough your mind might drift elsewhere. "Please," you whimpered one last time, willing yourself to push back, but you couldn't make yourself move.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Harry's voice, that was Harry's voice. For a moment, you thought his angry tone was pointed at you, that he thought he'd caught you cheating.

"Nothing, man, leave us alone. We're—"

Things were a blur after that, but all you knew was the guy wasn't on you anymore and you felt exposed. The skirt you had carefully tucked into your skirt at the start of the evening was rucked up, the neckline pulled down. You kept your eyes closed, tears slipping out as you listened to the sound of a fight, of someone getting shoved against a wall and plates or cups crashing and fists connecting with skin. You didn't want to cry, you felt stupid for crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"Harry, please."

"Shut up!"

Your eyes stayed squeezed shut, but you could hear the altercation coming to an end as more people came into the kitchen, most likely pulling Harry and the other guy apart. Feeling someone crowd your space again, you tensed and shook your head, completely terrified.

"Hey, it's just me. It's just me, love. Can you open your eyes for me?" Harry said, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, more tears spilling out. "I promise I didn't—"

"None of that, baby. I know what happened. You don't have to explain," he said. Harry reached out to gently push a strand of hair out of your face, but you flinched. "Sorry. I—Should I get Kate? She's here somewhere. I'll—Let me text her."

Kate came in minutes, and she quickly ushered you out of the party and into her car. Everything felt like white noise, and you were seeing without really seeing. You knew Harry was there and keeping his distance, but you just wanted to go home, be alone. So Kate drove you, got you into bed and slept on the couch in the living room, making sure to lock the door when you started to cry and hyperventilate because she'd forgotten.

The next morning you felt marginally better, but not great, and the day after that was more of the same. On the third day, you felt comfortable enough to get out of bed, to shower and scrub at your skin until it was rubbed raw. You were shaken up, but you felt like you were back in your body again. That night you did everything in your power to not be where you were mentally. A few days later, you were more aware once again, not so scared or skittish, but that only meant the memories and the feelings you were keeping at bay returned in full force.

"Harry's at the door. Wants to check in," Kate said, poking your head into your room. You'd been up for a couple hours, watching TV on your laptop after you finally stepped out of the shower, but you hadn't come out of your room yet, hadn't said a word to anyone. Hadn't spoken to Harry since the party. "He's been coming here for the last three days, and I've been holding him off, but—He's worried about you."

You knew he was worried. He called and texted until your phone died, and then he resorted to emails. Harry hardly even checked his email unless he had to message a professor about a late assignment, but he'd been emailing you relentlessly when you didn't answer your phone.

"Did he...hit that guy?" you asked, recalling bits and pieces from that night.

"Did a little more than just hit him, but well-deserved in my opinion," Kate muttered. "Was like one of those brawls he gets into on the ice at games except he had a good center of gravity. That piece of shit didn't stand a chance."

You didn't know how to feel about that. You were well aware that Harry got into fights at his hockey games, you always rolled your eyes when he got sent to the penalty box after shoving a player into plexiglass or taking a swing when she should've skated back to his position. And he was the jealous type, you were well aware of that. Sometimes Harry would glare or kiss your neck when he thought guys stared too long. He was protective and jealous, but a sweetheart on the inside, and part of you liked how strongly he felt for you and that he wasn't afraid to show it. Now...you didn't know how to feel.

"He...He can come in."

Kate nodded and left your room. A minute later, she was back with Harry. He had a split lip and dark bags under his eyes, but other than that, he looked fine. Kate was right, Harry seemed to take care of that guy without much trouble.

"Hi," he said, stepping inside your bedroom. Kate closed the door once he did, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hi."

"How—How are you?" he asked then frowned. "That was a stupid question. Sorry, I—"

"I'm okay. Not okay, but better, I guess."

"Good. That's—That's good. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep."

Harry's hands were tucked into his back pockets as he leaned back and forth on his heels, his eyes struggling to pick something to focus on. He was nervous, you realized.

"You can sit down," you said, bringing your knees up to your chest so he could have space to sit on your bed.

"Right thanks."

He approached the bed, sitting down on the very edge. His hands stayed in his lap, foot tapping rapidly. Your eyes narrowed, a hand reaching out to take one of his hands in yours before you could think much of it. Harry's knuckles were cut up, reddish-purple bruises covering his skin. Ever so gently, you ran a finger over the bruises.

"It looks worse than it feels," he said, probably lying. "I know how you feel about fighting, but I couldn't let him get away with that. He—I saw red, and—Sorry, we don't need to talk about me."

"I didn't think anyone would come," you said. "We were just talking, and then all of a sudden we were alone and the music was so loud. I—I didn't think anyone would've heard me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I went to the bathroom and went looking for you, I—I should've—"

"I don't blame you for not being there," you said. "You were there. I was just so scared, and I—I froze, I couldn't move, and I was so—"

"Hey, it's okay," he said. Harry tried to reach for you, but you pulled back. "I'm sorry I don't want to make you uncomfortable by touching you. I can go—"

"I have bruises on my wrists," you said, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over your hands. "And I don't want to feel ashamed, and I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but—but I do. I feel ashamed of what happened."

When you began to sniffle, Harry looked like he wanted to come closer, but he stayed put. "Can I?"

You gave him a small nod, and he gently took your left wrist in his hands. His touch was so delicate, you didn't even think he was capable of being that gentle. Harry pushed your sweatshirt back, and you quickly turned your head to the side, not wanting to see the bruised fingerprints on your wrists. You felt his thumb brush over the skin, and when your skin began to crawl, your shoulders tensed, and his thumb stopped.

"I went to the school board," he said. "The dean, or whatever. I told them what happened. I—I didn't mention your name, but I told them what happened so that...he could get expelled or reprimanded or something."

Your head had been resting on your knees, but at that, you looked at him. "You did?"

"Yeah, I—I'm sorry if I overstepped, but I couldn't just let him get away with it," he said.

You didn't know what to say. You'd been officially dating for a few weeks now, a little over a month, and things were still new, still fresh. But you liked this new relationship, and you didn't want what happened at the party to get in the way of something so good with Harry.

"I don't feel great, and I may have taken like a hundred showers since, but I think I just want...I think I could use a hug."

"I love hugs," Harry said, a small smile on his face.

You pushed the corner of your bedspread back to let him in, and Harry was quick to kick off his shoes and join you. His body was warm, the smell of his clothes perfect, his cheek against yours perfect. He was perfect. You felt comfortable in your own skin again with him next to you.

"And I could use a movie buddy," you said, opening your laptop again, firing up a rom-com.

"You've been pestering me to watch this with you," he mumbled against your temple. "But I'll watch anything if it means I get to hold you like this."

You blushed and squeezed his hand tight. Harry hissed a little, which made you mumble an apology before gently kissing his knuckles.

"I do hate when you fight," you mumbled, opening up your laptop again. "But this time it was deserved. If I have bruises, so should he. And I'm—I'm glad you told someone. Thank you."

"I wish I had been there," he said quietly, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist gently. "I should have been there."

You knew both of you could go around in circles about hypotheticals about that night, but it would be no use. Something horrible happened, and you wouldn't forget it, and neither would he. But the bruises would fade soon, and Harry was there for you, and so was Kate, and you would be okay. When he kissed your wrist, your shoulders tensed, but your skin didn't crawl, and when he rested his arm on your waist, you felt safe, not trapped, and when he asked if you wanted to get dinner when the credits of the movie rolled, you found yourself saying yes.

"This might be everything that happened and my emotions might be all over the place, so take this with a grain of salt. In the nicest way," you said. "But I think I might be in love with you."

Harry chuckled and helped you out of bed, waiting by the door as you slipped into a pair of sneakers. You didn't bother changing out of your sweats, even though you had to hike up the sweatpants you were wearing every few seconds because they were Harry's. Both of you were more than familiar with walking around in comfy clothes after practice or a training session. You were probably headed to McDonald's and back to your apartment for another movie anyway.

"Then I'll wait to tell you I'm in love with you in a month when we're on a proper date. Until then, shall we?"

"I don't want to feel like this."

"I know."

"I shouldn't feel like this," you said, pulling Harry's covers up to your chest.

"You're allowed to have all the feelings you want, Y/n," Harry said softly, careful to keep his distance on the narrow bed. "We can wait. I don't mind just laying next to you."

"Yeah?" you asked, getting teary eyed for an entirely different reason.

"However long it takes."

You sniffled and reached for his hand, which he took. "Sorry about the uh... unfinished business."

"That? Can't even feel it," he said.

"Liar," you said, laughing a little. "But it makes you a reeeaaly good boyfriend."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "And it'll be reeeaaly worth the wait."

You laughed even louder, even fuller, this time, flicking him on the nose. "Pig."

Harry teased and joked with you, but on the inside, he felt relief. You'd come out of your room and gone back to class the last couple weeks, but you weren't quite yourself. You stayed covered up from head to toe, you stayed home on the weekends, and your heart wasn't in your training. You went and you were brilliant, but Harry could tell. He'd watched you enough to know if your heart was in it, and it wasn't.

So he learned when to be a shoulder to cry on and when to make jokes to make you laugh and when to put on your favorite movie. Harry had never been in this position before, he never thought he would ever be in this position before. But he didn't imagine you did either, so he tried his best.

He wasn't worried, though. You were in therapy and going to class and getting good grades and you didn't flinch anymore when people tried to touch you. Friends, anyway, sometimes strangers startled you. Progress was progress, though. Some areas were better than others, though. Since the party, you and Harry hadn't had sex, hadn't even kissed on the lips. You held hands and Harry kissed your head and cuddled on the couch or a bed, but it didn't go much further than that. And you were fully clothed each time.

But he was more than willing to wait. Harry knew taking time was important and he hadn't put pressure on you to do anything. It was you who wanted to do more tonight. You thought you were ready, you insisted that you were ready, but when Harry tried to take your top off, you pushed him away, feeling sick to your stomach.

"You'll get there. We'll get there," Harry promised, going over to his dresser to get a shirt. He tossed it to you, wanting you to be as comfortable in a t-shirt instead of the top you'd worn out tonight. He grabbed one for himself and was halfway into it when you stopped him.

"Could you maybe just—"

"What?" He asked, coming over to the bed where you were still covered up.

"It's stupid," you said.

"I can promise you it's not."

Blowing out a large sigh, you looked at him. "Could you maybe just not wear a shirt?"

"Of course," Harry said immediately. He shrugged out of the one he just put on and slid into bed next to you. "Not stupid at all."

"I just want...to feel you, but I don't want—"

"To do anything more. I understand."

So Harry let you position him just how you wanted on his bed, making sure not to accidentally lean or lay on your hair. Your hands were feather-light on him, like you were barely touching him at all.

Sometimes, late at night when you were fast asleep, Harry would feel inexplicably angry. Not at you, never at you. At that guy for hurting you the way he did, for violating you in a way that was still affecting you when he probably hadn't thought about it since. Harry could tell you looked for him when you were on campus together. Your eyes flitted to each face that passed you by, squeezing Harry's hand when you saw similar hair or frame. You were terrified to see him again, and seeing the panicked look on your face when you thought you did enraged Harry even more.

But there wasn't much he could do except wait. Wait for you to heal, wait for the storm to pass, wait to kiss you again. All of it was worth it, you were worth it, but sometimes he thought there was something he could've done to prevent all of this.

"You can stop beating yourself up, you know," you said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Don't think I don't know that look, Harry," you said, leaning up on your elbow to look at him. "I have never blamed you for what happened."

"I just wish I could help," he said, feeling his shoulders release tension they'd been holding since that night.

"You are. I don't know how to explain it, but I promise you are," you said, and that relaxed something in Harry too.

He was about to put on another movie when an idea came to him. "Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. I have an idea," he said, slipping back into his t-shirt and a hoodie.

Curious, you followed his lead, putting on shoes and letting him lead you to your car. "The rink," he said quietly, and even though you knew it was closed for the night, you went anyway. Harry didn't say anything, but you weren't really up for conversation anyway. You felt bad that you'd become a burden to Harry, that instead of a girlfriend he got...you. You wanted to be okay again, you wanted him to kiss you and feel you, you wanted to do more than just fall asleep next to him. But you just couldn't get his touch out of your head. You felt dirty and overexposed, and you weren't sure if you'd ever not feel that way again. You weren't sure if you should be selfish and keep Harry shackled to you while you found out.

"Come on," he said when you parked in the empty lot. It was almost midnight, which meant there were no more practices, no more games or private training sessions. It was just you and Harry.

He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, taking you by surprise when one slid into the lock with ease. The front door to the rink opened, cold air immediately hitting you as you stepped inside.

"Why do you have keys to the rink?"

"Being captain of the hockey team has its perks," Harry said with a shrug. "Come on, I want to show you something."

You followed him back to the boy's locker rooms, and past that to where the rink stored the equipment they rented out to local teams or families who wanted to start training their kids but didn't know what to buy yet. Harry grabbed a hockey stick, not quite as big as the one he used, and then a bigger one, and a few pucks.

"Do you have spare skates in your locker?"

"Of course."

"They'll do. We're not gonna actually play," he said, but he wasn't looking at you as he pulled out small nets from the back of the storage room.

When he had everything, he told you to grab yours and his skates while he set up the rink, not giving you a chance to respond. You did as he asked, using the combination he gave you before leaving the locker room to cross over to the girl's. Your spares were old, and the blades could've used a tune up, but they were comfortable and would hopefully work for whatever Harry had planned.

You quickly got into your skates and got on the ice, handing Harry's over once you reached him. "I think you need to get angry, and I think you need a way to just let it all out," he said as he laced up his own skates, which were much clunkier than yours. "So I'm gonna teach you how to shoot, and we'll go from there, okay?"

"Harry, I don't think—"

"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking at you like he wasn't actually sure if you did.

"Yes," you said almost immediately.

"Then let me help you do this."

So you did.

Harry showed you the basics of shooting a hockey puck at the net. He made it look so easy, so effortless, but when it was your turn, you hardly made the puck move. But Harry was patient, quietly telling you what you did wrong and helping you adjust your stance. Eventually, you got the hang of it, and when you hit the first puck with force, you didn't stop.

Harry had been right, you needed an outlet for everything you were feeling, and each swing of the hockey stick had you feeling more than just uncomfortable in your own skin or scared or sorry for yourself. You were furious that this happened to you, that you couldn't do anything to stop it, that this person left you feeling weak and broken. All of that anger went into your movements, and everything else fell away, including Harry, who hadn't said a word since you got the hang of it.

You didn't know how long you stayed on the rink, all you knew was the stick in your hand and the ice beneath your skates. It wasn't until Harry tapped you on the shoulder that you finally stopped. Your cheeks felt flushed and you were breathing heavily, but you felt good, and you hadn't felt good since that night.

"Your arms are gonna be sore tomorrow," Harry explained, taking the hockey stick before skating around to gather up the other equipment. When he made his way back to you, you were still huffing and puffing. Gently, Harry reached out and brushed a thumb across your cheek, then the other. You didn't even realize you'd been crying. "How do you feel?"

"Different," you said. "Like I could sleep forever."

Grinning, Harry said, "Then let's get you back."

Harry had been right, your arms were already starting to feel like jello. You were worn out, but in a good way. You and Harry walked back to the car in silence, though when you looked over at him, he had a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just the way you were hitting the puck," he said, shaking his head, curls falling into his eyes. He hadn't gotten a haircut recently, and now his hair curled past his ears and touched the collar of his shirt.

"What? Do I play like a girl?" you teased.

"No, but, like, you're really graceful about it. It's not a bad thing, just different."

"Well, maybe I could teach you a thing or two about grace," you said, leaning into his side. The rest of the walk to the car was quiet, like both of you were stuck in your own heads. But when you started the car to go back to his place, you said, "Thank you. You've been...more patient than other people might've been, I think."

"You don't have to thank me for being a good friend," Harry said. "You would've done the same for me."

He was right. If something traumatic happened to him, you would've been bending over backwards to help him. Somewhere down the line, you cared enough about him that you would be devastated if he was hurt in any way. It would've hurt you to see him hurt.

"When I'm ready...you're in for a treat," you said, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't want to feel like you were shrouded by a dark cloud anymore. "

Almost like he knew what you were trying to do, Harry played along. "Oh yeah? What can I expect?"

"That would ruin the surprise."

You saw Harry shake his head in your periphery, but it was an amused shake.

This felt right, the teasing and flirting. It felt normal. You weren't one hundred percent okay, but for the first time since that night, you believed that you would be, and Harry knew it too.

[takamimami]

takamimami Celebrates 100 Followers!!

EVENT CLOSED: RULES AND PROMPTS UNDER CUT (event end Oct 11th)

What better way to celebrate a milestone than with these three goofballs?!

Seriously though, I want to thank everyone who has liked, followed, reblogged, and interacted with any of my works I've posted on this blog. Let me start off by actually introducing myself:

Hi! My name is Tia/Angel/Princess/any pet name you want to call me :3 - I am a 27-year-old loser who shamelessly obsesses over people I will never meet. I pride myself in trying to be an open book, so I am always open to chatting about anything from anime, video games, music, books - but I need to come with my own CW because I am unhinged 87% of the time (srynotsry). I once saw this post that said something like 'Create pieces that you are the target audience for' and that is 100% my motto when it comes to writing, so the fact that anyone enjoys what I create is amazing bc it means I'm not as crazy or alone as I once thought I was <3 (ew that was oddly sappy). This blog is technically a side blog where I post my writings, so if you really wanna be friends, consider following/interacting with me on my main page @limitlesstildil

EVENT RULES UNDER THE CUT - PLEASE CONSIDER LIKING/REBLOGGING THIS POST TO SPREAD THE LOVE :3

Supernova Captains 100 Follower Event:

RULES:

The rules are pretty easy: submit an ask here and choose a prompt from the lists below, and then let me know which of our lovely captains you want me to write about for you!! ALL WILL BE WRITTEN AS X READER FICS - SO PLEASE SPECIFY IF YOU PREFER F!READER, M!READER, OR G/N!READER!!

Be mindful of what prompt you are choosing - Smut prompts will be NSFW - Fluff Prompts will be SFW - and Angst will be SFW unless you request otherwise :3 NOTE: you can select choose for me to write a prompt for all three captains, but the blurbs will be smaller (5-600 words each) than if you just choose one of them. Single character pieces will be roughly 1.5k words - give or take (and also depending on my self control :3) ALSO: please feel free to include any ideas/pet names/headcanons you would like me to include/lean into - I want to personalize them for whoever is asking as much as possible so do not hold back when it comes to letting me know what you're in the mood for :3 HAPPY REQUESTING <3

PROMPT LIST:

SMUT 🔞

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.”

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment.”

“Your hand feels so much better than mine.”

“Your moans will wake everyone up and I’m oddly fine with that.”

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

“How about we get really dirty before we shower, so that it’s actually worth the effort?”

“Oh, you’re such a tease!”

“Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?”

“I want to ruin you.”

Our bodies fit so well together.”

“Make me shut up then.”

FLUFF🍬

“How come you always end up under my blanket?”

“Have I told you I love you today?”

“I would like my good morning kiss now.”

“You getting so flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

“I think I know what that smile means.”

“You give the best hugs.”

“You’re enough for me.”

“Wait, we have a few more minutes.”

“You’re just the cutest.” “You’re the only one who is allowed to say that.”

“Do you think they will like it?”

“Sweet of you to think of me.” “I always think of you.”

“You make me a better person.”

“Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

ANGST🥀

“I shouldn’t have left.”

"Please don't talk about yourself like that."

“No, this can’t be real!”

“We tried our best.”

“Please, let me in.”

“Can’t you understand why that hurts me?”

“I asked you not do this, but you did it anyway.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“I’ve always been alone.”

“It hurts, but I’ll live.”

“Please, tell me you're ok.”

“Sleep doesn’t come that easy without you.”

“I don’t really care anymore.”

“No, I’m actually not ok.”

“You just can’t help it, can you?”

[justagirlwholikesadam]

"How can I prove it?"

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SFW Blurb

Young Severus Snape x fem! Hufflepuff Reader

A/n: My obsession with Harry Potter, came back after I was sick for a week and I binged all the movies. I forgot how much of a crush I had on Professor Snape that I just had to let it out and do some writing. I do have a few things in mind but if people like this short blurb I’ll continue on. By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense just ignore it or stop reading. :) Enjoy - L

Summary: After being forced to watch a quidditch game, Severus found out that his friends are pushing him to make the next move on a certain Hufflepuff girl.

Warning: SFW, Severus being his emo self, lots of low self-esteem, curse words.

Word Count: 2.7K

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He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from cursing as another harsh wind blew causing his long dark hair to get into his face again. He didn’t want to be here. It's not like he dislikes quidditch. He found it a bit entertaining but he would rather spend his weekend reading in the comfort of his bed but he was pulled from his bed by Mulciber and Avery.

“I'm not in the mood to see one of your pranks?” Severus said as they walked towards the field. He was used to watching Mulciber and Avery pull their stupid and mean pranks on the younger students. 

“No pranks.” Avery said looking over his shoulder with a smile. Severus didn't trust that smile. He was thinking if he was fast enough he could cast a spell to freeze them so he can go back to his bed. 

“Our House isn’t playing. Why are we even here?” Severus said, shooting them a glare as they made their way up to the stand. He can see the players, blue and yellow uniforms everywhere. He sighs as they sit down, he had managed to take one of his books before they pushed him out of the room.  He didn't want to leave without one, there was no point in watching this game. His house wasn't playing so why waste his attention on it. 

“Don’t be like that. We must support your girl.” Severus took a minute to realize they didn’t mean Lily but they meant you.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Severus mumbles at them trying to ignore the tips of his ears burning. There was no way a girl like you would be with him. You were his potion partner and nothing else. He had mistakenly let out to Mulciber and Avery that he found you attractive and kind. He was always focused in potion class but now every once in a while he would glance over at you. The way your lips curled up when smiling, your eyes were bright whenever you stirred the cauldron. You always tried to get him to talk about himself. Asking him about shows and food but he kept his mouth shut. How can someone like you be interested in what he likes?  Deep in thought thinking about you he felt a slight push to his right side making his book slip out of his hands. 

Severus was about to snap at whoever sat next to him, making him drop his book and the worst thing happened, he lost the page he was at. He looks over and notices platinum hair. It was Lucius Malfoy, he was surprised that the eldest students of House Slytherin was in a Hufflepuff Quidditch match and sitting next to him. Nods and greetings were usually what Severus received from him. They weren't close friends but Lucius knew about Severus. 

“Which number is your girl?” Lucius asked him. Severus looks over at Mulciber and Avery who shrugged their shoulders at him. They didn’t mention you to Lucius, Severus made them swore to keep it a secret. 

Severus shook his head and cleared his throat. Lucius and him watched as the players flew around. “I don't have a girlfriend.” 

Lucius chuckled as he crossed his legs and looked up at one of the girls. “That's funny.” 

Severus frowned. “What's funny about that?” 

“Because of the way both of you look at each other.” He tensed up when Lucius draped an arm over his shoulders and pointed at the sky with his left index finger. Severus follows his gaze at you. 

“She has a pretty face. Nice body. That smile.” Lucius whispered as they looked at you flying with your team. Severus agreed with the older boy. You were smiling as you flew with another girl who just scored a goal. 

“How did you manage to get the prettiest Hufflepuff? Fuck- if I was you, I would just bend her-” Severus was about to cut him off when Narcissa walked up the steps to where Lucius and Severus were sitting. He quickly removed his arm from Severus.  

“Hey, love. Hey, Severus.” Narcissa said, sitting next to Lucius who kissed her cheek. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Severus looks away from them. He wanted to leave, what a mistake it was to come here. He ignored the looks the crowd gave him. The two richest and popular students were sitting next to him and talking to him. 

“Love, you know Y/n Y/L?” Severus' eyes practically pop out of his head when he hears Lucius. He grips his book in his hands tightly thinking of any excuse to leave. He didn't want the world to think he had a crush on you. He would get bullied even more. 

Sure, you were kind and pretty to him. You barely made him feel like a freak when you worked with him. He sometimes ignore you whenever you waved at him during lunch or when walking down the halls.The other male students would glare at him whenever you spoke to him. Severus knew what they were thinking. How can the prettiest girl be talking to skinny, pale, Snivellus? 

“Yeah, I do. She’s the seeker for Hufflepuff. She asked me about Severus.” 

Severus dropped the book in his hand once more and turned to face Narcissa. “What?” He asked, ignoring the hoots from Avery and Mulciber behind his back. Why would you ask her for him, he didn't understand it.

“She asked me if you were dating anyone. I said no.” Narcissa said nonchalantly as she looked down at her nails. 

“This has to be a joke.” He groans at her but Avery places a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her out. She’s probably waiting for you to say something.” 

“Fuck.” Severus mumbles as he leans down to get his book. He didn't notice the look Lucius had when he looked over at Avery and Mulciber. 

“HEY! Y/N!” Lucius yelled. Severus had a horrified face when he grabbed his book. He looked to his right and saw Lucius standing up from his seat. His wand pointed at his throat to make his voice loud. 

“Stop that! You can’t just call someone in the middle of a match. Especially a seeker.” Severus said standing up. He clutched his book against his chest. He had enough of this. He was going back to his room and never leaving until Monday. He should have never come here. He damned Avery and Mulciber for bringing him here and Lucius along with his girlfriend. 

Severus froze when a gust of wind passed him. He can see a yellow cape by his side. 

“What’s up?” 

He didn’t know if he should be angry at the fact that you actually came or the fact that Lucius greeted you with one of his charming smiles. 

“You know my friend here, right?” Severus let out a yelp when Lucius grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned against him acting like they had been friends for years. Severus was too shy to look at you. He wanted the world to swallow him whole. 

“I do. Hey, Sev.” He finally manages to look at you and his heart is flipping inside his chest. You were smiling at him while you're in the air riding your broomstick. He can hear your teammates calling out for you and such but you didn’t turn around. 

“Hey, Y/n.” Severus smiles back before looking down at his feet. 

“He wants to go out with you. Do you want to go out with him?” Severus right then there would have given his soul for the stand to collapse. 

“Yes!” Severus looks at you surprised. “If you want to. I wasn’t sure if you-“ 

“Look, I’m sorry if he made you do this as a joke but I’m leaving now. Continue on with your match.” Severus has had enough he was going back to his room. He quickly starts leaving, ignoring his friends calling out for him.

“Wait!” He flinched at the sudden gust of wind and saw you had followed him. 

“I’m serious. I really do want to.” Severus saw you looking over your shoulder when your teammates started yelling at you to hurry up. 

“How can I prove it?” You asked him. Severus didn't want to believe it. How could he, he's been bullied so many times. The only girl he liked was Lily. Now she doesn't want anything to do with him. The word dare came to his mind, were you paid by Potter to go out with him? Did someone put you up to this? 

“Severus?” He hears you call out for him. He can see the seeker of House Ravenclaw flying by you but you didn't take your eyes from him. He didn't want you to lose the game because of him. 

“Get the golden snitch if you're serious.” He said. He was waiting for you to laugh at him and reveal your true nature. He waited for the words, ‘Idiot, I don't really want to date you.’

Instead you smiled at him before nodding. “Pick me up outside of the Hufflepuff common room at 6.” 

You didn't let Severus respond, you quickly flew away back to the game leaving him in the stand shocked. Severus made his way back to his seat, he rolled his eyes at the sight of Avery, Mulciber and Lucius smiling at him. 

“Went well?” Lucius asked as Narcissa cuddled next to him. Severus looks at him with a frown. “Why help me?” He asked, not understanding. 

“Us, Slytherins have to stick together.” Severus was not satisfied with his answer. 

“Merlin, Severus!” Lucius said laughing as he looked at Severus who had a deadpan expression. 

“Oh! Shit!” Mulciber yelled as he rose up from his seat and pointed at the sky. 

Severus saw  the ravenclaw seeker and you head to head flying up to the sky. He saw the golden snitch gliding across the field. He frowned when he saw the ravenclaw seeker pushing you with his shoulder. Lucius let out a laugh when the ravenclaw seeker fell off his broom when you pushed him right back advancing to get the golden snitch. 

Severus without realizing had stood up trying to get a better view of you. He held his book against his chest as he watched you reach your hand out flying towards the golden snitch. A huge smile broke out on his pale face when the horns blew and the announcer of the game roared with happiness. 

“Y/N L/N just caught the golden snitch! HOUSE HUFFLEPUFF WINS!” 

---

He was standing in front of the Hufflepuff common room. He can hear cheering and music playing inside. He was nervous that perhaps you had completely forgotten about the date. He stood a foot away from the doorway, he began to fiddle with his slender fingers. He decided to wear his “nice” muggle clothes, none of them had any holes. He had even charmed them to fit his frame right and even brushed his hair. 

He was going to speak to you after the game but your teammates had carried you out of the field as they cheered your name. He let out a sigh as he looked over at the clock hanging on the wall. It was 6:03 now and you haven’t come out of your room. He shook his head, calling himself an idiot. He shouldn’t have believed that you were interested in him. Turning around to head back to his room, he heard the door open. Music and people chattering were loud, he ignored it until his name was called out. He halts when he hears someone running behind him. 

“Hey!” He looked behind when he felt someone grab his arm. It’s you. You have changed into muggle clothes as well. His dark eyes went straight to your lips, they were shiny. Your lashes are darker and longer, he then realized you got all dolled for him. Maybe you did want to go out with him, he thought to himself. 

“Hey, I didn’t think you-“ you shook your head, cutting him off. 

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Your answer caught him off guard. 

“Congratulations.” He said looking back at the door where your house was celebrating their win. 

“Wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you.” He lets out a shy chuckle. You gave him a smile when he looked down in embarrassment. 

“It’s true. Gave me the right push.” Severus notices you grabbing your shoulder bag and lifting the flap to get something inside. He looks at you with his brows raised when you hand him a book. 

“Dark Arts VIII.” Is written in silver on the black leather cover. It’s old, and Severus saw it before in the library but never had the chance to read it. He wondered how you managed to get it. 

“This is for you.” Severus does a double take looking at you and at the book. 

“Me.” He whispered. You nod at him. 

“I asked Narcissa about you. She told me you like the Dark Arts. I know you like potions but that’s all I know.” Severus knew it was his fault for that. Every time you tried to get near him outside of the classroom he would go the other way. You would offer him a hello but as soon you wanted to get near him, he would disappear. 

“I wanted to know more about you.” Severus runs his fingers on the bind of the book before looking back at you. 

“Thank you for this. I feel horrible for not giving you anything.” 

Avery and Mulciber were behind a pillar watching the scene in front of them. They thought the castle would crumble when Severus smiled down at you. They watched the pair laugh before walking down the hall. 

“You’re stepping on my fucking leg.” The Slytherin looked at each other thinking it was one of them speaking. 

“Shit! My bad.”  Avery and Mulciber looked behind to see the door to the HufflePuff commoner half open, four heads stuck out. The fourth one gasped and disappeared when making eye contact with the Slytherin. 

“Hey!” The first head was a blonde girl, she greeted them. 

“You’re his friend?” Avery nodded and the third head who was a brunette smiled. 

“We are Y/n’s friends. Wanted to make sure she's okay with your friend.” 

“He does something and I’ll hurt him and you guys.” A voice came out, the door was pushed open completely. Mulciber’s eyes widened when a tall blonde came walking out into the hall. 

“Severus isn’t that type of guy.” Avery said, then looked at Mulciber for some kind of help. Mulciber was so busy looking at the blonde that he didn't notice Avery. Mulciber let out a wince when Avery hit him in the gut. 

“Yes, that’s right. Severus wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” Mulciber told the blond guy. 

The Hufflepuff's students looked at the pair of Slytherin for a moment. “Fine.” The tall blonde said then looked down to the hall. They all did, Severus and you were long gone. 

“She’s our friend. Just want to make sure she’s fine.” The brunette spoke as she slipped out of the door and stood next to the blonde man. They all seemed to know about Severus and his reputation.  

“Our friend too. He’s a good lad. People are just assholes.” Mulciber commented. 

“Yeah, Potter and that guy with the last name Black? We heard about them.”  The blonde said, rolling his eyes. Mulciber and Avery looked at each other not sure how to get the fuck out of here. 

“We should be heading back.” Mulciber said as he took a step back to walk to the Slytherin's common room. 

“Why not join us?” The brunette asked, looking back to the room then at them. 

“We got music and food.” The blonde man said. “Herbs.” Mulicher’s eyes widened when he saw a girl coming out of the common room with a blunt between her fingers. 

“Sure, a couple of hours won’t hurt.” Avery heard Mulciber say. The students of House Hufflepuff smile at them as they welcome them inside. 

[alaskan-wallflower]

Can you do a blurb about the conversation that Darry and Sodapop would have after Ponyboy ran away

i’m not much for writing fanfiction but i could dip my toes into it lol-this is dogshut, i don’t write fanfic but ugh-i’ll try!

“Don’t you talk to him like that!” Pony had yelled out. Darry wasn’t one to lose his temper physically. He wasn’t. He would rather take a knife to the chest than lay a hand on either of his baby brothers. However, all the emotions-the stress of Pony being out and not being able to call the police, the anger towards his brother for talking back to him, the pulsing fear running through his veins…before h e knew it, he had blacked out. Pony was on the ground, a hand on his cheek, staring at him. So many emotions were crossing the fourteen year old’s fragile features. Betrayal, anger, confusion and the one that stuck out to Darry the most. Fear. It was like everything was running in slow motion as Pony turned his head and clenched his cheek. Soda was beside him, reaching out desperately, albeit too late. The damage was done.

“Pony, I-“

Before he could finish, Pony sprinted out the door. The running off wasn’t what struck him the most. What took Darry’s heart and cut it up were the hot tears running down Pony’s face. Tears he had inflicted. He. Darry. The person who was supposed to be his older brother.

“Pony’ Pony, I didn’t mean it!” he started off after Pony before Soda sprinted and blocked the door and slammed it shut.

“-rry-Da-GOD DAMNIT, DARRY!” Soda’s voice cut through the anxiety careening through Darry’s mind. He was shaking, he felt like he was floating form the lack of oxygen entering his lungs. Soda looked angry…angry, but also scared.

“What were you thinkin’?!” Sosa yelled at him. He deserved it. He wasn’t about to yell back. “Hittin’ him like that, teh hell prompted you to do that?!” Soda was shaking just as hard as Darry was, but he noticed the look. That dang look. The look of sheer desperation melting through the normal coldness of his eyes. The desperation he held when the police made him identify his parents bodies. The same pleading look he wore at their funeral, the same pleading look he was giving Soda, begging him to move…he was torn. Torn between letting Darry go after Pony, and torn between being beyond angry at Darry and never speaking to him again. However, that desperate look made Soda’s angry one falter.

“Darry-“

The brunet fell to his knees, the stress of the day-no, the last eight goddamn months finally breaking him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t fucking THINK-

But it went quiet. Distant and desperate breathing somewhere. His own. Being supported by Soda.

“Darry, shit! Darry, you have to breathe, man!”

Darry didn’t even know how to verbalize it. He hadn’t meant to hit Ponyboy. He hadn’t. He’d been holding everything in since his twentieth birthday, and the thought of losing Pony and Soda because the damn cops would’ve taken them away from him…he couldn’t excuse it. He couldn’t. And here he was, the strong older brother, panicking like a dang baby in his little brother’s arms.

Soda had so much he wanted to say. He couldn’t believe Darry had done that. But he also knew that Darry was absolutely shattered, and he couldn’t bear to hear it.

“He’ll come back, Dar.” Soda tried calming his older brother down. “But when he does, you absolutely cannot do that again or so help me-“ he cut himself off as Darry let out a desperate sound. He’d never heard any sort of noise from his brother akin to that one.

So many thoughts were coursing through Darry’s veins. What if the police came? What if Pony never came home? What if Soda now hated him too? What if-

“Darry.”

The one word alone made him look up, still unable to breathe properly.

“You need to listen to me. Pony will come home. Pony will be okay. As soon as he gets home you need to apologize to him, but he will come home.”

It took a while, but the initial panic faded away, it faded into shame. Shame for losing his temper like that. Shame for breaking down in front of his other brother like a dang child…

“…go upstairs.” Darry said brokenly, trying to pull hisself up.

“Darry-“

“Go!” he snapped, bracing himself against the wall with one hand and immediately turned around with the most guilty look on his face. “..please…” his voice wavered and cracked in ways that Darry Curtis’ voice shouldn’t have. After a few moments of internal debating, Soda retreated upstairs, half not being able to stand looking at his brother, and half because he didn’t want to fight.

Darry was alone now, unable to hold himself up. He couldn’t even keep them down, the hot tears streaking down his face as he slumped against the wall, utterly ashamed.

[3terna15unshin3]

desperately need a blurb about matty showing este one of the (many) songs he wrote about her, maybe it’s the first one he writes for her! But he’s all nervous and she’s in shock all like “it’s about me??” And bc of her love for literature she’s like delving into the lyrics and falling in love with him and his mind all over again!!!!! could be cute!

Who Else?

a/n: cj!! suuuuch a cute concept thank u for the request💌 it’s kinda implied in the fic that Then Because She Goes is the first song he writes about Este but because it’s so lofty and the lyrics are so buried and vague, i thought it might be more fun to focus on a different (underrated imo) one :))) i hope u like it !!!!!

this another instalment of este and matty as always, read the full fic here <3

—

The first test pressing of Being Funny finally sits in Este’s excited hands. She always looks forward to spinning Matty’s work and being able to hold it physically before anyone else. Luckily, it came in a sample sleeve of what the final product would look like—unlike most test pressings that come in boring and generic packaging—so Este is able to admire and study its charming design. Matty watches, thrilled to see her reaction. 

Her eyes scan over the sleeves with the lyrics printed over them, picking out her favourites and smiling when she reads them. Knowing how truly earnest Matty had decided to be with his lyrics on this project, she can’t help but blush at the overtly romantic phrases and the fact that they could have been written with her in mind. 

“So who’s this one about?” Este poses sarcastically, pointing at All I Need To Hear and giggling in the process. She watches Matty lightly roll his eyes and the corners of his mouth pin up into a grin. 

“George, actually,” He jokes. 

He’s only just lowered the needle onto the black vinyl, so a couple of seconds afterwards, the two of them hear the telltale piano chords of the opening track. Matty steps back to let it play, taking a seat in the chair that sat next to their sofa. Este follows suit and lightly settles onto his lap, lyric sleeve still in hand. 

“Shut up,” she replies, continuing to read away. “I actually can’t think about that song too hard or else I’ll, like, fully weep.”

Matty chuckles, pulling her legs to the left so they dangle off the side and so he can see her face. He sets his arm across her thighs to hold her tight and clasps his hands together around her waist. 

“I mean every word, you know.” He says quietly. 

Este feels her nose get fizzy with emotion as she reads more of the lyrics. 

'Cause I don't need music in my ears

I don't need the crowds and the cheers

Oh, just tell me you love me

'Cause that's all that I need to hear

She thought about how punctuated by music Matty’s life had been; how it was the only way he can make sense of the world. How deeply it made him feel and know himself. And how it brought him the most important connection he’s built—his audience and the mark he’s left on them. 

Then, her mind wandered to the way he somehow unabashedly declares that her love is set above all of that; through the song. It’s the ultimate exclamation of love and devotion.

He wrote that about you, Este thinks to herself. Her nose goes fizzy again. She blinks away the tears that rise. 

Her fingers find their way around the nape of Matty’s neck, and she caresses the skin there gently. “I’m serious, love. I’ll snot on you.” Este warns. 

They laugh together for a second, then hear the record switch over to Happiness. Matty studies the way her foot begins tapping to the beat and how her lips move ever so slightly, to mouth the words to herself. 

“God, this is the best song ever,” Este gushes as the needle scraping along the vinyl helps remind her of how much she loves it. He shrugs, raising his heel along to the song making her bounce up and down. She laughed at how nonchalant he was attempting to be. “Don’t be humble. It is.”

He looks at the floor and then up at her. “Another one written about you.” He says, kissing her shoulder.

She looks down at him, setting down the record sleeve. “Would you really go blind just to see me?”

Matty nods slightly. The brown in his eyes glows with admiration. “I’d go too far just to have you near, too,” he teases. 

There’s a shyness in his voice that Este can hear buried beneath the light sarcasm. It makes her heart flutter while Waughy’s saxophone blares through the speakers with charisma.

“Do you always think about me when writing love songs?”

It’s a question she ponders quite often. She’s not sure why she does; but she struggles to conceptualise being the subject of art she loves so dearly. Though Este can tell it’s second nature to him. 

“Course. Who else?” Matty answers, like it’s obvious, because it is. 

Este shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe the ones before me.” 

“Can’t even remember their names, now that you’ve come along.” He says casually. 

As they continue to listen, Este eventually gets up to flip it to the next side. But as she does, the conversation they share reminds her of one of the first times Matty admitted to writing about her, and how precious it was. 

Este has a clear memory of Matty being on tour in 2019 and sending her messages about Then Because She Goes, when it was a work in progress. She thinks it was easier for him to hint and imply the lyrics were about her—how their times together felt so indulgent even though the pain of parting ways came along with that—because he didn’t have to do it to her face. He had sent her voice memos of it while he was halfway across the world and Este witnessed the song grow from an idea to a fully fleshed moment of splendour on the record. It was such a special experience.

But, when she managed to learn that there was more (quite a few more, Matty would later reveal) on Notes that had an undertone of Este-ness, his admittance was much more timid. 

It was after the release of the album was pushed back a few times, a period of time she would frequently find Matty hunched over his laptop screen with stress. The final touches of mixing and mastering were occurring. Track by track, things were being perfected, and Este grew more and more eager to hear the project as a whole.

Finally, Matty asked her to join him for a front-to-back listen-through of the album. They sat down together and shared his pair of Airpods, the left for him and the right for her, and pressed play on his files.

Because of its sporadic final weeks of creation, there were some songs that sounded different to when Este had first heard them, and even a few she hadn’t heard at all. One that was new to her had been a last minute addition that George composed of a rogue idea sitting in Matty’s notes app. It ended up being a favourite of hers.

“You hadn’t shown me Bagsy Not In Net,” Este pointed out when the album was over and she had spilled enough praise.

“We made it so spontaneously. Towards the end. I guess it just never came up,” he explained, picking at the skin on his fingers. “Do you like it? I really like it.”

She furiously nodded. “That’s why I brought it up. It really stood out to me.”

Matty clicked randomly around on his laptop and refused to meet her eyes as he said, “I’m glad Bagsy stands out. I was nervous you wouldn’t like it.”

Este’s brows furrowed.

“Since when do you care about whether anyone likes your work besides you?” She said playfully.

“Are you kidding?! I always care about you liking my—”

Este giggled, putting her finger over his lips to muffle his sentence and end it abruptly. “Okay, okay. You do care. But I feel like you’re never nervous. Like, with every other song—”

“I was nervous because Bagsy Not In Net is about wanting to die with you.” 

Her mouth remained agape as Matty interrupted. It came out of his mouth with impulse and haste as if it had been sitting behind his teeth begging to be heard. 

All the while, his eyes stayed glued to his laptop screen. He was afraid of it being too bold of a concept, or that she wouldn’t feel the same way—given the fact that it had barely been three months since they’d gotten back together. It was easy as ever to write about her and send her little messages through a screen that hinted at him doing so; but having Este’s real and living gaze burn into his face while admitting something so raw was not the walk in the park he hoped it would be. His heart began racing, and he didn’t know when it would stop.

“It’s about me? Are you sure?” Este spluttered. 

Matty eventually peeled his eyes away and met hers. 

“Who else?”

Later, after a long night, the two of them whispered quiet words to one another in bed before turning over and shutting their eyes. Este had another idea, though, and turned her phone back on. She slipped on her headphones, and opened the audio file sitting in her notes. 

Este begged Matty to Airdrop a copy of Bagsy Not In Net over to her so that she could listen to it again. Sure, she was addicted to the charming orchestral introduction and how it pulsated alongside the beat as the song progressed. But really she was just desperate to hear the lyrics again.

She closed her eyes as she listened, taking in each word.

This feeling, it's something when you call me

I'm dealing in death and being lonely

Try it, don't like it

And leaving you here is the thing that I fear, so I fight it

Her heart panged at the idea of Matty being afraid of the end. Then Because She Goes was almost an anthem of hope, or of reassurance, that their time apart would at least be temporary. But this—these lyrics—hit Este in such a different way. It was desperate and stark and honest. Matty was begging for her to agree that they were all or nothing. That even death is something they ought to do as a pair. Este couldn’t possibly make sense of how huge the sentiment was, and how beautifully it came together with the instrumental. 

The song looped a couple of times before she finally pressed pause. Este shrugged the headphones off of her head and set them back onto her bedside table. The noise of her headphones made Matty open his eyes, realising that she was still awake.

Her back was turned to him, so he peered over her shoulder to see the glowing screen of her phone. He watched Este open the notes app on her phone, and slowly type, “Do you want to leave at the same time?” into a new file. He sleepily smiled. 

She didn’t label it, or type anything further. Copying the line heard over and over in her new favourite song was the only objective. She was hoping that making note of it would help her remember it forever, even though she probably would anyway.

[radiant-reid]

Hi cate, i rlly love your writing. I was wondering if you could di a blurb in virgin!reader relentlessly teasing Spence about how he probably isn’t even that good at sex and is probably small and he proves her wrong pls pls pls its been on my mind for so long😵‍💫

THIS !! but it's him ^^ because his short fuse is 10/10 also i didn't write this as virgin reader, because i wanted it to be rough, I hope that's okay <3

By the time truth or dare is being played, you're drunk, with enough shots and cocktails in your system that you're bold enough to say just about anything.

You're standing around a high table, holding the bench to avoid swaying too much, when Luke suggests truth or dare. Tara jumps in on it, and before anyone can stop to think about consequences or too much personal information being shared about co-workers, all of you are playing.

"Spencer, truth or dare?" Luke asks him, a few rounds in.

"Truth." He takes the seemingly easier option.

"What's your body count?" He asks with a grin, mostly because it earns a giggle from Penelope.

Spencer frowns. "Like people I've killed?" He clarifies.

"People you've slept with." JJ corrects after all of you laugh.

"Oh, like five. Wait, six." He counts, less concentrated after some whiskey.

You snort loudly, only aware you have a varying opinion from everyone else when all eyes are on you. "What? Do you guys seriously think he's had sex with more than one person?" You stare at him, profiling him. "Maybe two, tops."

"Damn, kid," Rossi speaks first, everyone else too gobsmacked to say anything. "You don't pull any punches."

Luke hoots with laughter. "She's calling you out, man."

When you brave a glance at Spencer, he doesn't look embarrassed. He just looks pissed, jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed, and you're not going to deny it, but it's attractive.

You're determined to push him further. "It's probably small too." You add, holding up your hands two inches apart.

That only increases the volume of everyone howling with laughter, and it gives Spencer the chance to lean down and whisper in your ear. "Second door on the left of the right hallway, five minutes." He says abruptly, voice lower than usual.

You're too stunned to say anything, and something about how magnetic he is attracts you to go. So in four minutes, you're excusing yourself to the bathroom.

He's already in the bedroom when you get there, arms crossed over his chest. Clearly, his anger didn't dissipate.

"Hey, Spence." You greet him casually, closing the door behind you. "Bring me in here to prove to me that it's tiny?"

"Shut up." He tells you, stepping closer until your toes are almost touching. "Just shut the fuck up."

The next words out of your mouth surprise you more than they surprise him. He is a profiler, after all. "Make me." You say.

His lips are so close to you that it takes a millisecond for him to be kissing you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat. His hands are all over your face, pulling you closer to him with his large fingers wrapped around the base of your neck. It's sloppy and wet, and really fucking hot.

It's a flurry to get your clothes off, both of you pulling apart after a long, passionate kiss, your thoughts tracking to the same place. They lay discarded on the floor as he pushes you onto the mattress, wasting no time getting inside you.

"Fuck, you must have watched some porn because you know what you're doing." You tease, made a little bit more difficult with his deep thrusts.

He growls against your neck. "Real-life experience, sweetheart." He whispers before biting at your skin.

"Don't- fuck- believe you." You retort.

"Can't even argue with me without moaning, huh?" Spencer asks before tutting, "pathetic." You wiggle closer, rolling your hits with him. "Like right now, I can tell you need more."

You scoff, but it's more of a moan. "Are you going to give it to me then?"

Spencer picks your thighs up, wrapping them over his shoulder and thrusting even deeper inside of you. "God, if I knew it would be this easy to shut you up, I would have done this a long time ago."

"You just never had the balls." You tell him.

"Got them now, don't I?" He reminds you, slamming into you. You can feel yourself getting closer, and he knows it too by your clenching around him. "Want to cum?" He offers.

You nod frantically. "Please." You babble. It's desperate, but when he fucks you so well, you can't help it.

"Tell me it's big." He demands.

"Fuck, Spencer, it's big. I'm sorry, it's so big, and you're really good at this." You say quickly, not wanting him to move the goalpost on your orgasm.

His fingers quickly circle your clit, and you're coming in no time, triggering his release on your stomach when he pulls out.

"So?" He asks once he's flopped down on the bed next to you. "Was it actually okay?"

"Phenomenal." You assure him, dragging your finger through his cum on your skin. "I'm eating my words."

He chuckles at your idiom. "You're cute, you know?" He tells you sincerely and affectionately. "I can make you eat more of your words if you like."

You nod. "I would like that."

[ifimdreaming]

loved the story you wrote about johnny, could you maybe write something more. maybe about getting married or something domestic?

blurb!

i love you more

john marino x reader || fluff

summary: you are feeling super anxious at yuors and johns engagemtn dinner (cw: anxiety!)

authors note: this isnt exactly what was requested but i felt like it fits johns personality sm

word count: 0.8k

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“Ok! Ok everyone!” your best friend says as she begins standing up from the dinner table, clinking her glass with a fork as everyone silences.

“I just want to say a quick cheers to the most adorable couple ever! and congratulations on their engagement, i am sincerely so so excited for the both of them and i cannot wait to celebrate their love with them on their wedding day! cheers!” she says smiling at you and john, and you begin to turn red with all the attention on you before everyone begins to clap, finally downing the champagne from their glasses. 

It was not your idea to have an engagement party in the first place but john was so excited when your sister brought up the idea of hosting a dinner that you just couldnt say no to him. you hated having so much attention on yourself, but at the same time, its good practice for your actual wedding day.

there seemed to be a lot more people here who you didnt know very well. which you were not expecting. but your sister did plan this party in its entirety, down to the guest list. And although you were grateful for that, you definitely would be the one approving the guest list for your wedding day.

the napkin that lays on your lap begins to slip to the side because of how much you are bouncing your legs up and down unknowingly.

“you doing ok?” john whispers as he picks your napkin up before it falls, 

 you were doing so well at the beginning of the night that you didn't even notice how much your anxiousness progressed until john points it out.

“I think i just need a moment, ill be right back.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” he places a hand sofly against your back, standing up with you

“Its alright, ill only be a minute” you say trying not to worry him to much, but deep down you couldnt wait for the party to be over 

you made your way upstairs to your childhood bedroom and laid on the bed feeling so much relief just being inthe quiet room by yourself.

 In this moment you were so thankful your mom and sister planned this dinner at your parents house. Your mind was racing with anxious thoughts, and having the freedom to just lie down in your old bed gave you so much comfort.

a knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts, “hunny? Can i come in?” john says softly and you are so thankful that its him at the door

“yep, come on in” you say as you sit up, your legs hanging off the end of the bed.

“hi my love. how are you?” he shuts the door behind him and makes his towards you, crouching in between your legs as he places his hands on your thighs, slowly moving his hands along them.

“Im ok.” 

“i told everyone we’re heading out soon, so your family is starting on the dishes. and i think some people are starting to leave” he says and you smile with relief.

you hated to be the one to tell everyone you were leaving, even if it was getting late you felt bad having to kick everyone out. but john knew exactly how to take care of you. Its so relieving to not have to apologize for or hide your anxiety from him, unlike previous relationships youve been in.

“thank you johnny. c-can we go back to your place?” 

“yeah of course” he says as he leans up and places a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“anything you want baby” he says after pulling away for a moment and stroking his thumb over your face. He is always extra gentle with you when you felt anxious. It made you feel so lucky to have him.

“thanks johnny” you repeat and he just stares at you. A soft giggle leaving his mouth.

“why are you staring at me?”

“i cannot wait to marry you baby.” he starts and you roll your eyes at his cheesiness. 

“cant wait to take you home with me every single night and take care of you every single day.” he says as he plays with th engagement ring on your finger, making you smile at the thought of finally living in the same house together. and having him by your side in moments like this forever.

“Me too jj. I love you so much”

“I love you moreee” he says as you place your hands on his shoulders, giving him a peck on the lips.

he moves his hands from your legs over onto the bed, bracing himself as he pushes you down on the bed with his face against yours. 

you giggle into the kiss and he just attacks you with kisses all over your face, making your laughter grow and your anxiousness finally let up.

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