#look at that bit of hair trying to fall down

[f1fantasys]

Balenciaga, Nike,and 1 with lando please and thanks youuu♥︎♥︎

BIRTHDAY BOYYYYY FIC

NB - This has nothing to do with Lando's birthday, it's just the name.

Here we go! First fic from the prompt list! Sorry for the delay! This turned out a little longer than expected, and i think i may have gone off track towards the end buuuut hope you all enjoy!

Balenciaga - swallowing his cum Nike - caught by his parents #1 - rough and filthy

3.7K words

During the summer break, at least a week was always spent with Lando's parents on their yacht - it had been a given for the last 3 years you'd been dating. And you absolutely loved it; you loved them like your own so it was always something you looked forward to.

Lando has ended the European leg of the races on a high, so everyones mood was ecstatic to say the least.

His? haha

He was ecstatic, sure, but he was also fucking horny for you every second of every day you'd been on the yacht.

On day 1, Lando had woken you up with his face between your legs, pulling and sucking at your clit as his fingers slid through your slick folds before he frantically thrust them in and out of you, making you cum twice within a matter of seconds. The night ended with him banging you hard against your cabin door, hand snaked round your throat as he pounded into you relentlessly.

You'd both been at it every day since, and to say you were sore would be an understatement, but all he had to do was give you a single look, or touch, and your body was putty in his hands, begging him for more until you were both shaking in each others arms.

Today was day 4, a lazy day for everyone just lounging around and working on a good tan.

By the time dinner was finished, everyone was exhausted from being out in the sun all day, and had retreated to their rooms.

Lando and you decided to just chill out on the decks, open another bottle of wine and spend some time together.

It started off innocently, it really did, until Lando stripped down into nothing but his boxers, saying something about needling to cool down in the pool.

Your eyes shamelessly eyed his body up and down as he took the few steps to get into the water, involuntarily squeezing your thighs together as he let his arms rest on the side, showing off his taunt arm muscles and flexing his back ones.

His own eyes stayed trained on yours, knowing very well he was leading you on and would get what he wanted sooner rather than later.

But you kept your ground, trying to focus on talking about something or the other, trying to keep yourself distracted.

He could see you fidgeting, your legs bouncing up and down. Hell, he was fucking hard as rock by just watching you do practically nothing.

''Come here, y/n'' he said, a warning edge to his tone.

You gave him a look, not saying anything, until he got out of the water, shred his boxers on the walk to you, and pulled you up, before walking hand and hand back to the water.

All you could keep your eyes on was his thick girth, lose and springing up and down, hard.

''Lan-'' you started, though he cut you off by placing a finger on your lips.

The cool water was a relief to your core, but Lando quickly manhandled you to sit up on the edge, taking his place between your legs.

You wrapped your legs around his torso as he untied your bikini strings, letting the top fall off to show off your perky boobs and pink nipples that had stiffened due to the the old as well.

Lando licked his lips as he reached forward and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Gently suckling on it and circling his tongue around it as his hand harshly tugged and pinched on your right nipple.

Your hands found his hair and pulled on his curls, breathless moans leaving your mouth as you bit down on your bottom lip, though the quietness went out the window when Lando's one hand pushed your bikini bottoms to the side and immediately plunged two fingers through your core.

''Lando, fuck!'' you hissed, jumping at his actions as you thought he was taking his sweet time with you.

He was not.

Lando kept his eyes trained on yours as he let your nipples go and spread your legs further, giving himself enough room to fit his head between you, before he devoured your cunt with his tongue, while thrusting his fingers roughly.

A series of swear words left your mouth as you leaned back and tried to give him better access, and within minutes your body was trembling, shaking violently as you came all over his mouth.

Lando made sure to swallow everything up before he helped you sit up again, pulling you down for a heated kiss that quickly had him sliding his tongue into your mouth as you moaned into him.

''Lan'' you panted, ''need-'' ''need to taste you'' you said, between kisses, sounding more desperate than you have in the past few days.

''Yeah?'' he asked, mischievous glint in his eyes when he pulled back.

''Uh huh'' you said, sliding yourself back into the water and instructing him to now sit at the edge.

He complied without fuss, because he was just as desperate to feel your lips around him.

You pumped his dick a few times, concentrating on stroking the thick vein at the side which had Lando squirming above you.

You teased him now as you pulled back completely and squeezed your one boob in your hand while the other continued to pump him, licking your lips as you saw a bead of pre cum already leaking through his slit at the top.

''Y/n, please'' he begged, and just because you were in the mood and wanted to hear him beg some more, you pulled your boobs right up to your mouth and circled your tongue around your nipple.

Lando's eyes darkened as he gawked at your actions, his dick twitching in your hands as he watched you, mouth open and in awe at the sight of you.

''Fucking hell, baby, please'' he said, already gathering your hair out of your face into a makeshift ponytail.

How could you say no to him when he asked you like that?

So you finally gave Lando what he wanted - you deep throated him straight away, gagging when hie tip brushed against the back of your throat as you bobbed your head up and down his long shaft.

You played with his balls and pumped the part of him that you couldn't fit into your mouth, tears already stinging the corners of your eyes as Lando's hold on your hair tightened, when finally he just cupped your face and held it still, fucking his dick in and out of your mouth.

''That's it, yeah, takes me to well baby, fuck'' he mumbled between breaths as you could tell he was already close with the way his cock was pulsating.

You pulled back for a second, ''cum for me Lan, let me taste you, yeah?'' you cooed before resuming your activities, and with one harsh suck later, Lando was emptying his load down the back of your throat as he let out harsh grunts and moans.

His taste was salty and warm, just the way you loved. ''So delicious Lan'' you smiled up at him, cheeks flushed and eagerly ready for more.

''Come here'' he said quickly, getting you up and pulling you out the water. Lando scooped your naked body (and his) up and rushed over to the bar.

You hissed when he placed you down on the cool counter top, body still shivering from being in the cold water.

''Gonna warm you up yeah?''

''Fuck Lando, please, need to feel you'' you said impatiently.

Lando spread your legs with his knee as his hand gave his already hard cock a few strokes, sliding his tip through your folds to gather some slick.

Eventually, he settled at your hole, pushing in with one hard thrust.

You held your breath, fingers digging into his biceps at the intrusion, while his mouth found yours and gave you a sloppy kiss.

Then he started moving, pulling out of you completely before pushing all the way in, setting a quick pace as if you were short of time, but really you just couldn't get enough of each other.

''So tight, as if i haven't fucked you enough these days'' he said, smirking at you. He knew you'd have an answer to that, so he quickly brought his hand up to your throat, giving you a few gentle squeezes as he continued to fuck in and out of you.

''Gonna come Lan'' you cooed as you felt your orgasm approaching hard and fast, and withing seconds your body was shuddering in Lando's arms, body feeling like jelly so he had to hold you up now.

''Fucking love you'' he mumbled, more to himself when he looked down to the place you were joined, your thick cum coating his cock was enough to edge him closer to his own orgasm.

You leaned forward and gave his nipples a few kitten licks, sweat dripping down his whole body. He hissed when you bit down on his left one, sending you a warning. Only your name though. ''Y/n''

Just as Lando picked up the pace even more, now chasing his high, you heard a door open, though your minds were too fucked out to even respond.

Until you heard a gasp, and Lando's mum's voice.

''Oh''

You both froze, your movements coming to a halt as you looked each other with wide eyes, Lando's dick stopping halfway on its way into your cunt. His arms snaked their way around your body to rest against your ass in an attempt to cover it.

He looked over his shoulder to see Cisca standing there with her own pair of wide eyes, mouth agape. You took this opportunity to bury your head in his chest, trying to control your breathing as his as well was going at 1000 miles per hour.

All of you too embarrassed to respond, but your mind was screaming at Cisca to walk way without saying another word.

That thought was short lived though, as suddenly the door opened and closed again and now it was Adam's voice that filled your ears.

''Cis, what are you-'' he cut himself off at the scene in front of him.

''Oh'' was all he said after.

It was all probably about 30 seconds, though it felt like 5 hours, and you gave Lando warning eyes, begging him to say something to get his parents out of here and back inside. Your body was starting to squirm at the feeling of Lando's dick softening inside of you, the moment fleeting away with each second.

Finally, he coughed, and at the same time Adam cleared his throat.

''We''ll leave you to it'' he mumbled quickly before pulling Cisca back inside behind him.

As soon as the door shut you both let out a series of swear words, your bodies finally relaxing even though you didn't know how you'd ever face his parents again.

Lando looked down and gently peeled himself out of you. He cupped your face in his hands. ''Sorry'' he said, looking shy and embarrassed at what had just happened.

'''Don't be. Serves us right for trying to fuck in a place where anyone from the family could have walked in'' you said, leaning forward to peck his nose scar.

He smiled. ''Make it up to you later?'' he asked.

''You better!'' you squealed as he helped you off the counter and threw you a towel to cover up.

Time jump

For the last few days of summer break, you and Lando had opted to spend them quietly at home before the roar of the season began again.

It was a lazy day today, Lando was streaming with Max while you were preparing dinner.

As you were waiting for the oven to be done, your mind drifted the last few weeks. It was easily the best summer break anyone could dream of - sun, sea, sand and sex, lots of sex.

You could feel yourself blushing just thinking of all the nasty you did during the holiday, and suddenly, as if you hadn't had enough, you felt your core dripping with want.

Without thinking, you switched off the oven and made a beeline for the room Lando was in, stripping and leaving a trail of clothes all the way from the kitchen.

You knew his set up, so you knew all the ways to avoid the camera, though when you opened the door and Lando looked up from his screen he had to do a literal double take, his eyes wide and mouth agape, licking his lips as you made your way into the room.

Max's voice through his headphones reminded Lando where he was and what he was doing again as he tried to get back into the stream though he was failing miserably.

''Bro what the fuck what's wrong with you?'' you heard Max ask as you crawled under the desk and sat on your knees, watching Lando through hooded eyes.

He still had his own eyes on you, one hand already snaked down into his shorts at the sight of your naked body leaning down in front of him.

''Lando!'' Max yelled.

''I, fuck'' he jolted in his seat. ''Nothing, just..nothing'' he said, trying to ignore you and get back to talking to the chat.

You giggled to yourself and gently leaned up to palm his thick girth through his shorts before pulling at the them to tell him to remove them.

He kept his eyes in the screen, not even listening to what Max was saying as he subtlety lifted himself just enough to let you slide his shorts and boxers down, springing his achingly hard dick free.

You breath couldn't help but hitch at the sight of it standing tall, red and angry, with precum already sliding down the sides.

Quickly, you pumped him a few times, your thumb swiping his tip to spread the precum. You watched how Lando held his breath, before sighing and mumbled a fuck it, before he turned his camera off, though left the mic on.

Finally he was free to look down at you, biting his lower lip and mouthing a ''dirty'' down to you as you leaned forward and have his slit a few kitten licks before letting your tongue run over the thick vein at the side.

Lando's hands found your head and roughly pulled your forward, giving you no option but to take his load into your mouth, hard and deep.

His hold on your head tightened as you watched him lean back in his chair and let out a series of silent moans.

You pumped whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth as one hand fondled with his balls, pulling and tugging at them harshly when you started gagging around Lando, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

You had spit running down your chin and dropping onto you thighs as you clenched them together, your core begging for some attention of its own.

Lando tried his best to concentrate on what ever was going on with his stream, but everytime your tongue circle his tip his mind short circuited and he had to ground himself to make sure he wouldn't moan into the mic.

You could feel his dick start to twitch uncontrollably in your mouth, knowing he was close, and within a few seconds with no warning, Lando let his cum splutter down your throat as he clenched his fists on his chair handles, biting his bottom lip agonizingly hard to keep quiet, letting out a few staggered breaths.

Your own mind forgot where you were for a second, and as soon as you got a taste of him, you moaned a little too loudly, halting your movements for a split second.

You looked up at Lando and saw him mouth ''swallow it'' to you, to which you gladly obliged because he was delicious.

Max of course, caught up to what was happening. He indirectly threw teases at Lando which luckily the chat hopefully wouldn't catch on to.

As you sucked Lando dry, you pulled back and took a few breaths.

You needed more.

Your cunt was begging you for something, anything.

You looked up at Lando again, cheeks flushed, and sent him a silent ''please'' You watched as his eyes turned shades darker.

Just one look at you like that on your knees, and he was putty in your hands.

He ended the stream with no goodbyes, no explanation, nothing.

He roughly pulled you out from under the table and carried you to the bedroom, throwing you on the bed.

''You asked for it baby'' he harshly said, hovering above you as you peeled his tshirt off.

Finally, he lowered down and attacked your lips with his own. Clashes of teeth and tongue, biting and nipping as you fought each other, spit messing your chins already.

You let your hands wander his toned body - following the outlines of his taunt muscles, eventually settling at his precious hair, pulling at it to edge him on.

Lando lowered his lips to your neck, finding your sweet spots which had you biting your own lips in anticipation of what was to come.

He hen went to your boobs, taking his sweet time tugging and suckling on your nipples, while his eyes stayed trained on yours.

Your cunt, for one, was getting impatient, clenching around air, begging for something.

''Please Lando'' you said, innocently as you could so he'd give in.

''Patience baby. Gonna ruin you tonight''

After spending a ridiculous amount of time on your boobs, Lando finally traveled further south, and thank god he didn't waste time in getting down and dirty.

He devoured your pussy that had been dripping, for him.

''So wet y/n. Wet for me, yeah?'' he asked.

You quickly nodded, wanting to boost his ego before you fucking exploded.

''All for you Lan'' you panted as he slid his tongue through your folds multiple times before starting to thrust into your hole as he held your legs apart strongly.

Your hands returned to his hair, pulling at it roughly as you very quickly felt the warmth start to build up in your stomach.

''M close'' you cooed, taking a boob into your hand and squeezing it a few times.

Lando had let his fingers find your clit, and this threw you over the edge, shaking and shuddering underneath him as you came all over his face, while you let obscene noises and moans leave your mouth, praising him for how good his fucking tongue is.

He licked up all your cum before reaching up and letting some drip straight from his mouth down into your yours - his own series of ''fucks'' leaving his mouth at the sight of you tasting yourself.

But as much as you loved when he ate you out, you loved his dick more.

So you reached down and took his thick girth into your hands, pumping it a few times before bringing it to your entrance and guiding it through you.

You gasped at the intrusion, eyes locked on Lando's as he bottomed out in you, before he started moving, thrusting out fully before slamming back into you roughly, fucking into you roughly.

''Fuck. So tight baby'' he mumbled as he leaned down to kiss you again.

''Lan please, harder. Fuck me harder, please'' you begged, needing more and more of him and your nails dug deep into the muscles of his back, surely leaving bruises.

''If i fuck you any harder I'm gonna break you'' he said breathlessly.

''Then break me'' you pressed, taking him by surprise.

He smirked, ''and this is why i fucking love you so much'' he whispered before picking up his pace even more, literally ramming his body into yours.

You shut you eyes and before you knew it your orgasm had taken over your body, cum exploding out of you as you swear you could see stars, all the while Lando's pace didn't slow one bit.

Suddenly though, he pulled out of you.

You looked down at him, confused, irritated that he'd stopped. But you mind quickly phased out as he bought his mouth to your cunt and collected as much of your cum as he could on his tongue, leaning up to engulf you in a dirty, filthy kiss. Both your cheeks and chins' were sticky and slimy but you couldn't care one bit because that was hot.

Lando manhandled your body to flip you over onto all fours, before he thrust himself through your cunt and resumed a rapid pace again, while his one hand found your throat and the other pinched your nipples.

''Lan, fuck, close. Gonna cum'' you mumbled as you felt him him you G-spot over and over and over and then your mind blanked.

You couldn't think straight. All you knew was there was liquid flying out of you left right and center, you could feel Lando's tongue, and all you ears could hear was Lando praising you for ''being the sexiest thing to grace this earth, how he's gonna make you squirt every day for the rest of your lives because fuck, there was nothing hotter than that''

Wait. What? Did he just say squirt?

Then your brain caught up, and your eyes flew open.

Lando was still ramming into you, so you looked back at him with the biggest look of embarrassment because wdym you squirted?

His whole face was wet with slick and sweat. He looked hot.

You tried to talk, but you couldn't, your body and mind a mixture of a lot of things. And with the way Lando was chasing his high now, you figured you'd let him finish before attempting to comprehend what was happening.

''I'm gonna cum y/n'' he warned. ''One day fuck a baby into this pretty cunt of your's'''he whispered, more to himself.

You clenched your walls around his throbbing dick, yet another orgasm coming over you, and within seconds he was spasmming and letting his load go deep within you, his own pornographic moans and grunts leaving his mouth.

Finally, you both fell forward, you on the bed and he on top of you, breathless and sticky, trying to calm your shaking bodies.

You could feel Lando softening inside you, and you both hissed when he slid out, your cunt extremely sensitive.

He gave you a sheepish smile before pulling you to lay on top of him.

''Please interrupt my stream more often if this is what I'll get. Squirming? Fucking sexiest shit you've ever done baby''

[billybutcherrtrash]

Throne

CW: oral (f) and fingers

You and Spencer are friends who attended at party for a mutual friend and find you have an interesting shared book fantasy.

It had been several hours since you’d arrived at the party for a mutual friend. Reid had been cautiously watching you as you talked to everyone and gave them a small amount of your time. Every so often your gazes would meet and you’d exchange a smile from a distance. Although you’d greeted him when he walked in, you’d been rushed away my another friend for some kind of emergency. Every guy you talked to made Reid anxious. He hated the idea of you walking out of this place with someone else. Anyone else but him. Finally you made your way over to him, sitting down beside him and smiling.

“Welcome back”. Spencer said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Thanks. It’s been very hectic. You’d think for a going away party it would be more fun. Instead I’m chasing down my drunk friends.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I think I saw one of my drunk friends fall off the bar earlier.” He laughed.

“I saw that. I think we’re the only two here that aren’t drinking.”

“I like to be in control of myself. I drink occasionally but in this atmosphere I don’t think it’s wise.”

“I agree. To much going on and I’m already over stimulated”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” He nodded.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and shifted closer to him. “I’m really happy you came.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, “I’m glad too. I’ll admit I was on the fence until I heard you’d be coming too.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. This isn’t my thing. Bars. Or people.”

“I would much rather be at home reading. I hate all this.” You shrugged.

“Oh, that’s reminds me I started reading this book about ancient erotica and I think -“

At that you held up your hand to stop him,“Did you just say erotica?”

Spencer nodded, “Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking of pornography. It’s rather tasteful compared to today’s idea of erotica. I’ve read a few of what is considered erotic today and I think it’s just porn on paper.”

You stared at him for a long moment. His brown eyes stared back anticipating your response.

“Porn on paper is called smut now.” You smirked.

“Yes, and it is just sexually charged writing. Ancient erotica is art. Paintings and images that are tastefully done.” Reid explained.

“I guess my bookshelf is filled with porn then.” You laughed softly.

“You read…smut?” He bit his lip.

Suddenly you felt hot. Did the temperature go up? You’d just admitted you had read spicy books.

“I-wel-…I mean…I have other kinds of books too.” You stammered. “I have biographies and nonfiction also. Fantasy.”

Spencer was enjoying watching you squirm. You were flustered now. He could see trying to save whatever semblance of a normal conversation there was left.

“Fantasy? What kind of fantasy?” He asked.

“No sexual fantasy…I have Fourth Wing. Have you read it?”

“Dragons and thunder…I have read it and its sequel.” Reid nodded. “But may I ask…how you felt about the throne scene?”

He was torturing you now. He watched as your eyes went wide and your breathing halted just enough to notice.

“I…uh…Spence…you’re doing this on purpose.” You said softly.

“Am I? I’m just curious.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”

“Very…” He nodded.

He watched you bite your lip. The conversation had taken a sharp turn and now you were staring at each other, both quiet. You wished you knew what he was thinking about.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer finally asked.

“Yes”. You agreed.

He stood and held out his hand for you. You took it and slipped out of your seat, following him out the door. You felt anxious as you walked out into the cold air, cautiously looking up at him.

“Did you drive?” He asked, looking back.

“No…I came with (your mutual friend’s name).”

“You should probably tell her you’re leaving.” Spencer smirked.

“I can text her.” You blushed a little as you arrived at Spencer’s car.

You turned to face him as he opened the door for you. It was only now that you realized he was so much taller than you. All the time working with him at the university and you’d never noticed. He stepped closer and slid a hand around your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.

Your brained seemed to short circuit, unable to form words, so you nodded almost too enthusiastically. Spencer leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you gently. The feel of his mouth on yours was dizzying. You weren’t drunk but you felt like it. He pulled you a little closer and you welcomed the feel of his body. After a few long moments he pulled back leaving you aching his touch. He gazed at you, stroking your cheek gently.

“Still want to go home with me?” He asked.

“Yes” Was all you could managed, still seeing stars.

Spencer helped you in the car before closing the door and running to the other side. You watched him get in and start the car.

“Don’t forget to text (your friend’s name).”

“Oh, right.” You reached for your phone and sent a quick text letting them know you’d found a ride.

They sent a reply with eggplant emoji’s and water droplets. Thank God it was dark because your cheeks were red at the idea of them knowing who you’d left with. The man you’d confided in her to having a crush on from the minute he’d walked into your life. As he drove you pulled your sleeves over your hands and fidgeted with them anxiously. You couldn’t have possibly expected him to not notice. He reached over and laced his fingers with yours.

“You play with your clothes when you’re nervous.” Spencer said, glancing at your hands.

Of course he’d noticed. The many meetings you’d sat in together, the times you’d been in the elevator together alone, the time he’d come to you asking for your opinion on a case, he’d seen it every time he was near you. You looked up as you felt the car slow to a stop. He put the car in park and you both sat for a moment. Finally your eyes met his. He gave you a soft smile.

“Do you still want to come inside?” Spencer asked.

“I do.” You answered.

He nodded and got out of the car, coming around to open your door and helped you out. Her nerves were started to become more noticeable. You didn’t do this. You never went home with guys. Especially not guys you worked with. Especially not anyone with an IQ of 187 and read books on ancient erotica. Spencer took your hand and led you into his building. Once in the elevator you chewed at your lip, your fingers linked with his as he pressed the button to his floor.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, reaching up to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Spence…you need checking on me. I’m fine. I’m sure. I promise.” You said, standing on your toes to kiss him.

He cupped your neck, returning the kiss. He was gentle and soft. You could only hope he maintained that once you were in his apartment. The elevator dings upon arriving at his floor. He pulled away reluctantly and you stepped off, making your way to his front door.

“I’m slightly surprised we aren’t stumbling down your hallway, too impatient to get inside.” You joked.

Spencer slid his key in the door, “We could have been but you deserve more respect than me just trying to fuck you.”

Your jaw dropped, surprised. “Spencer Reid said fuck!” You smirked.

“I’ve been known to swear on occasion.” He replied, letting you inside.

You stepped inside the apartment, looking around. He closed the door and locked it.

“So…what now?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“Spence…we both know what’s going to happen…but can we pretend for five seconds that you’re not thinking about undressing me and be making obscene sounds shortly thereafter?” You asked, taking his hand.

“Well now that you’ve put that image in my head…it’s going to be hard not to.” He smirked.

“You mentioned you had books. I want to see the collection.”

“The lady gets what the lady wants.” He replied, leading you to his bookshelf.

It seemed to overflow with classic literature in many languages. You looked at the titles, a few familiar and many you’d never seen or heard of. Then your eyes caught a familiar gold cover. You smirked and pulled out Fourth Wing.

“You really did read it.” You smirked.

“You and Penelope wouldn’t shut up about it, I was curious what had you so worked up. It’s not my thing but it peaked my interest.” He replied. “Especially chapter 48 in Iron Flame.”

You froze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He leaned in close, his breath hot on your skin.

“My house. My chair. My woman.” He whispered.

You looked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. You had forgotten he’d mentioned the throne room scene.

“You…um…you know the exact chapter.” You stammered.

He smirked down at you. “Of course I do. You never told me how you felt about it.”

“I mean…obviously it’s hot.” You turned to face him. “What woman doesn’t want a man worshipping her on his knees on a throne.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Do you have a throne?” You asked.

“Not quite a throne, but I definitely have a chair we can pretend is a thrown.”

You licked your lips as you felt your pulse rising. You felt hot again. You knew why you’d come to his apartment and now was the time you stopped pretending it was innocent.

“Show me.”

Spencer gave a soft smile and led you to his room. It was neat, bed made and everything orderly. Your eyes fell upon a gorgeous leather chair near the window. It was the perfect reading chair, but tonight it was going to be a throne for him to worship you on. He walked you over and you admired it. You could see it was tall enough that your feet might dangle if you sat down, and the leather was soft. God forbid you dig your nails into it and mark the leather.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from behind you.

You felt his hands sliding up your arms, stroking your biceps gently. His breath was hot on your neck as you leaned back into him.

“Yes.” You said, eyes closing when he kissed your neck.

“Then sit down.”

You swallowed anxiously, turning to face him before sitting down. You could have sworn his eyes darkened just a bit as he moved to the floor. Surprisingly the chair was the perfect height for you to be face to face. You pulled him against you and kissed him. His hands ran through your hair and down your shoulders. You knew exactly want was coming. He pulled away and removed your shoes. As his hands moved to your jeans you feel your pulse racing and your breathing quicken. He pulls you to the edge of the chair and tugs them down your legs. The air conditioning sends goosebumps over your skin as Spencer looks up at you. His eyes met yours and you forgot to breathe. He didn’t look away as you placed kisses on your legs, creeping higher and higher up your thigh.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He said, stroking your opposite thigh. “God, you’re perfect.”

You bit your lip, having trouble forming words. All you wanted was for him to devour and absolutely worship you. His hand slid over your hips and to the top of your underwear. The second they were gone you knew you’d never be able to recover. You ached for him. Slowly he slid them down and you watched him carefully. Spencer’s eyes darkened even more at the sight of you bare before him. He could see the moisture pooling at your core and he was instantly rock hard.

“Last time…you want this?” He asked.

“Last time, yes.” You panted, “Please, God, just touch me.”

Begging wasn’t something you’d thought you’d be doing but you were desperate. He nodded, moving one leg to sit over the arm of the chair and the other over his shoulder. You nearly came as his tongue slid through your wet folds. You let out a loud gasp, your head falling back against the back of the chair. He swirled around your clit, toying with it gently.

“Spencer, fuck!” You moaned, nails digging into the leather.

He smiled as he continued his actions, lapping up your juices. His hands held you firmly in place and you squirmed under his.

“Don’t stop, please.” You whimpered.

Spencer watched you coming undone, enjoying every second of it. Watching your breathing catch when he licked your clit. You moaned even louder when he slid a finger into you. It was nearly enough to finish you. Your hand moved to his hair and you tugged at it, causing him to groan against you. The vibrations only added to the pleasure. He added another finger, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You panted, so close to cumming.

Spencer felt you clench around his fingers and he moved them faster. His tongue massaged your delicate folds until finally you couldnt hold on.

“Spence, oh, fuck…” You whimpered before coming undone.

He smiled, working you through it. Finally you could breathe again and you looked down at him. He was just watching you, stroking your thigh gently.

“You okay?” He asked.

“More than okay.” You blushed as you sat up.

“How was it?”

“It rivaled all the fantasies I had about being worshipped in a thrown”. You admitted.

[corroded-hellfire]

https://www.tumblr.com/corroded-hellfire/743622480481107968/reading-ayw-things-has-me-thinking-about-eddie-and

I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)

For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/

THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂

Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth

Words: 1.2k

“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”

Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas. 

“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter. 

“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”

“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.

Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.

“Hey, what is it?” he asks.

“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”

Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about. 

“The…scrunch?” he asks. 

“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”

By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.

“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”

“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”

“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”

“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”

“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away. 

“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.

Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”

“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth. 

The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan. 

“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”

Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now. 

Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you. 

“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”

“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.

Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again. 

“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.

Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.

“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.

“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles. 

“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”

“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”

Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.

“What?”

“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.

A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.

You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness. 

“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.

“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.

“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”

“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”

It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

[dumblilb]

I don’t wanna talk

Vi x Bartender!Reader

(Synopsis: Vi’s been having a hard time recently. You decide to give her a little relief.)

(Warnings: !SMUT MDNI!, lesbian sex, Sub!Vi, oral (both!r), thigh riding (vi!r), strap (vi!r), begging, mentions of alcohol, profanity, crying from overstim, a little angst but not really, kinda fluff)

(Requested: Yes)

(Word count: 2,823)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚★。*

As her newly dark hair falls over her eyes all she could think about was how angry she was. It hadn’t even quite hit her yet why. Maybe it was her bruised knuckles, and the way they made her hands look so ruff against your skin. Or the fact that the lights were blinding her eyes. But as she looked up at you over the bar counter, she knew she had one thing to be surely mad at. You were gonna probably gonna send her home.

She held your forearm with a small bit of pressure. Putting the drink you were making for your final customer of the night on pause.

“Please. I need a drink. Just one.” Vi pleads. She looks tired. Her shoulders are slightly slouched and her eyes look sullen. You can’t help but sigh. This is the third night this week you’ve denied her service. Normally you can’t help but place down another beer for a drunkerd. A few extra dollars in your pocket from some rando isn’t the worst thing in the world. But when it’s your friend that’s when it gets complicated.

“Vi, I’m off in a minute. Just let me finish making this and you can come with me back to mine. Okay?” You smile softly. Her grip on your arm loosens and she looks at you for a second, debating her answer. Did she really want you to take her home and put her to bed. Her eyes flicker to the softness in your eyes. And the way your chest moved delicately up and down while you breathed. Actually that doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now. Maybe she wasn’t that upset after all.

“Fine. Just-“ She breathes out heavy, hanging her head. “Don’t make me wait too long.” She lets up on your arm and walks over to the exit waiting for you. You can’t help but stare at her as you clean up and clock out. Her jacket is slung over her shoulder. The fabric molding to the sweat covered muscles of her back. Like an unruly child she scrapes her large leather boots across the floor back n forth. Almost in protest of you testing her level of patience.

You walk over to her and she gives you a slight tinge of a smile as she wraps her arm around your shoulders.

“You’re getting sweat on me.” You grimace. She just places a peck on your cheek with a stuck up grin.

“You love it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to give you that impression.” You roll your eyes. But the undeniable smile covering your face gives her the courage she needs for the night.

The walk home was quick since you live not too far. Which vi was pleased about. The second you unlocked the door she pulled you into your own home, leading you to your room.

“What the hell are you doing.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Nothing I just wanna talk.” She says sitting down on your bed. Discarding her boots and jacket to the floor.

“Talk?” You question. You’re used to her flirting. She’s done it her whole life. She’s never really not been a charmer. But ever since she started doing those pit fights and coming to find you at the bar afterwards, it’s been a little intense. She started coming as a way to see you. She’d buy a drink. Chat you up. Get turned down. And she’d buy another. You could tell she was just sad and lonely. So you didn’t really give the idea of it the time of day. But as the drinking became more intense you got worried. She only seemed to become more upset the more times you sent her on her way. Beer in hand. You’d started to think you definitely fucked up. And she wasn’t joking around.

“Can’t remember the last time we talked about anything other than how bad you want me.” You tease, trying to keep the energy light. Maybe just this once. You’d try and see how this goes.

“You know I’ve had a really shitty day. Lost my match. And the only thing that’s made me feel better is the sight of you. You seem to have that effect on me recently.” She states as you sit down next to her. She leans to rest her head down softly on your shoulder. You don’t quite know how to react to what she’s just said. Her breath is hitting your skin sending a shiver down your back. You go to rest your hand to her cheek bringing her to face you, but she pulls back almost like a flinch. You ease her in closer.

“I don’t think I wanna talk right now.” You whisper, leaning in slightly to close the gap. She almost gasps at the contact but finds composure and melts into the kiss. All she could think about for weeks was how you would feel against her. If your lips were soft or if your eyelashes would flutter against her cheeks. But nothing could have prepared her for how heavenly you would feel.

The softness of your lips had her entranced as she pulled you in for more. Leaning into you making you fall back on your arms, deeper into your bed. She parts for a second, taking in your face. The way your eyes dart from hers to her lips. The way they your lips stay open slightly. Like they’re inviting her back in. You take the chance and kiss her again. Guiding her body up into a sitting position. Practically straddling your hips. You place a hand to her chest, feeling up to her neck. You could feel her heart racing under your touch. Deep breaths wracked her body as you fiddled with the wraps around her torso.

“Can I?” You question and she continues to kiss you, moving down your neck.

“Please.” She exhales and you start removing them. Much too slow for her taste. She’s antsy, nipping at your skin as you work. You finally get it off and take a second to admire her. She beautiful. Her skin is pale but it glimmers with sweat as she pants. You run your fingers over her chest, caressing her softly making her look at you nervously. What if you didn’t like them. What if-

“God you’re fucking perfect.” You exclaim quietly, placing soft kisses upon them. Her head falls back as you enclose on of them in your mouth. Putting your tongue to work, rolling over her nipple gently with your other hand.

Her hand grips your thigh tightly as a way to cope with the new sensation. She runs her other over your head till you pull back. She looks at you slightly confused till you begin removing your top, making her eyes go wide. The black bra still covering your chest doesn’t keep her from gawking. She slides off your lap for a second, hastily removing her own black jeans leaving her in just a pair of boxers in front of you. Her happy trail on display. Scooting forward you grab her hand placing it on your own pants. Giving her permission to remove them.

She bends down in front of you, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. Running her fingers up your thighs she starts to spread them apart, but you urge her back onto your lap.

“You said you had a bad day? Let me make you feel good.” You breathe into her ear, teasing her boxers off with your fingertips. Which she is now eagerly ripping off. Placing her, now noticeably wet, core down on one of your thighs. You grip her hips with a bit of force. Guiding them in a back in forth motion. She lets out a soft grunt as she slowly picks up the pace. Resting her head in the crook of your neck, she sloppily places small pecks to your collar bone. Her hands gripping your waist to keep steady.

Each motion she made caused a moan to leave her lips. They started quiet but as her legs became shaky you’d remind her how good she was doing. You rock your leg up into her, making the whining become louder. Her voice barely sounding legible between gasps, as she pleads with you.

“Fuck! I- I can’t…” She lets out, whipping her head back. You just smile at her softly. You roll over onto the bed, bringing her under you. Her hair falling back out of her face, leaving you with her wide eyed expression. She’s confused as to why you stopped her from finishing, till you get down on your knees beside the bed. Pulling her legs towards you and resting them on your shoulders. Her toned thighs clenched around you in anticipation as you leave little kisses to the area.

She’s starts to get needy, grinding her hips upward towards your lips when you grip her tightly. Looking up at her flushed face. Any makeup she was wearing earlier was fully smudged off and beads of sweat dripped down her abs as her deep breaths made each one flex just a little. It makes your brain spin a little as she looks at you with softness. Eyes pleading with you. Practically begging for relief.

“Please-“ She starts to say when you run your tongue through her folds. Her whole body melts into the bed. Each dip into her making her squirm as you work your way to her clit. Tonguing it with swift motion. Loud grunts leave her lips as she grips your head trying to push you in closer. She wants more. Which is fine. You have much more to give.

Coming up for air you slightly knock her hand out of the way. You begin holding her hips up with nothing but your own strength. Her legs fully over your shoulders. She tries to help by holding herself up with her forearms. But as you begin sucking on the sensitive area she gives up. An echoing moan leaves her as her core starts to tense up. Gripping your sheets tightly, she holds her eyes closed. Almost embarrassed to face you like this. Weak and to your will.

Her hips start to twitch. And before you could even prepare she’s a mess under you. Her release covering your mouth. She lays there panting for a minute while you gently set her down. Leaving wet kisses up her body, till you’re lying against her. Bringing her lips you yours, letting her taste herself. She holds you tight as if scared you would leave. Bitting slightly at your lips. Just enough to claim her stake. Her hand falls to your underwear line and she starts to inch closer to your core. You couldn’t help but peek to see the way her tattoos flowed with her muscles at each movement.

Moving your hips forward you allow her to start softly running her fingers through your folds. A small murmur of pleasure creeps out making her smile into the kiss. Applying light pressure she moves in circular motions, moving her kisses down your neck. Nipping at it slightly. The louder you get the faster she goes. The restriction of your panties upsets her so she takes a pause to slide them off and gets right back to it.

You place your hand on hers and guide it down to your entrance. She understands quickly and moves to be more on top of you. Holding one of your thighs down slightly with her leg. Holding herself up with one of her arms, her other glides its first finger into your core gently. She hesitates for a moment before you impatiently buck your hips, letting her know it’s okay to start moving.

She starts gingerly. Nervous almost. But as you whisper words of encouragement under your breath she starts to pick up the pace. Each thrust making you squirm under her. As her speed increases you bring one of your own hands down to massage your clit. The feeling of another finger entering makes a warmth start building in your stomach. Vi grunts as she continues. Her eyes not leaving you. The way your chest moves at her motions could make her drool. She starts to curl her fingers upward inside you and your pace becomes faster. But it’s sloppy, and a lack of composure becomes apparent.

“Fuck! Vi don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” You say stern, even in your current state. Your legs start to shake under her and with a last pump the feeling in your stomach releases making your whole body tense against her. She slowly starts to remove her fingers, placing them in her mouth to lick them clean. Under heavy lids you look at her with a smirk. She liked the way you tasted. You could see it on her face. She was pussy drunk.

Sitting up you move to reach under the bed. Grabbing what you need from the box you kept there. She looks at you curious till you bring it into her view. The hot pink strap, now sitting on your lap, makes her eyes go wide.

“Do you want me too..” She starts but as you get up and start to tighten it around your hips, she understands. “Oh!”

“Is this okay?” You check walking towards her position at the edge of the bed. She nods her head rapidly making you chuckle a bit. Pink dusting over her cheeks as you stand between her legs. Cupping her face you rub your thumb across her tattoo, taking in the way she looks. Even in the dark her powder blue eyes sparkle. Her hair can’t help fall slightly in the way of her view. Which in this moment is not something she’s fond of. She wants to see you.

Leaning down, you delicately leave a kiss to her forehead. Grabbing her hand in the process. You pull her up to stand in front of you.

“Turn around.” You muse and she looks at you a little confused, following instructions anyways. The sight of her tattoo covering her back makes you take a deep breath. God she’s so fucking hot. You rub your hands down her back, tracing each line of ink. She shivers slightly under your touch reminding you of what you were doing in the first place. Bending her over, she places her knees and hands down onto the bed and braces herself. Climbing up to bring your pelvis to her ass, you position yourself.

Caressing her hips softly you question “ready?” And you see her nod.

Pushing the tip of the strap in slowly you let her get accustomed to the feeling. A audible moan leaves her and you place a kiss to her back. Finding yourself a rhythm you begin thrusting into her. Slow at first, not to scare her. But then she started begging for it.

“Please! Faster.” She groaned, spreading her legs a bit wider. Which allowed for you to go deeper. Your thighs hitting her ass making as slapping noise echo in the room. But it was hard to hear over the loud whines that escapes her mouth. She can’t help but curse your name as you apply some pressure to her back, making her arch deeper. Holding her hips tightly to secure the motion. Her arms give out and her torso becomes flesh with the sheets. Arms up above her head. She turns slightly back to look at you. Reaching under you start to rub her off while continuing to slam into her.

“Holy shit!” She exclaims trying to hide her face behind her arm, but you stop her.

“Pretty girl, I need you to look at me.” You smile and she moves her arm. Small tears gather in her eyes from the overstimulation on her pussy. You get concerned for a second but when her legs start to twitch a little she practically begs for you to go harder. It only takes a few more pumps before her legs give out and you can feel warmth covering your hand. Easing out of her, you pull out and remove the strap from your hips.

She lays there, body sprawled out across your bed. Her eyes are closed but she has a grin adorning her face. A slight flush on her skin apparent. Quickly placing a kiss to her shoulder, you get up to grab a damp towel. Coming back to sit next to her.

“Come here.” You bring her closer to begin wiping her down. Cleaning her off. She looks up at you with a grin. She puts a hand to your cheek, pulling your lips down to hers. The kiss is gentle and needy. She just wants to feel you. Resting her forehead to yours she sighs.

“You okay?” You question, caressing her arm softly.

“My day just got a whole lot better.”

[curlybiter]

nsfw curly headcanons

whaddup mouthwash nation i don't normally make posts but i was sick in bed thinking abt curly all day n i got inspired by other ppl's hc posts on here ☺️ so im throwing my hat in the pile.. these are kinda disorganized but the first part is curly x long-distance reader (reader doesn't work on the tulpar), second half is more general stuff.

this post features; afab reader, cunnilingus, masturbation, various other things

when he's single it's pretty easy to get in his pants but it's embarrassingly easy for him to catch feelings for ppl he sleeps w. nd once that happens it's OVER he can't even Look at anybody else bro he is Dedicated

during hauls when he can't be with u it's rlly hard for him to get u out of his mind, esp when he's working bc there's no immediate outlet .. under normal circumstances he doesn't rlly masturbate that often, but when hes away from u it's a lot more common^^; just whenever he can get some privacy alone tbh. he prob does smth rlly lame like look at a picture of u while he does it LMFAOOOOAOA

he gets rlly pent up in the week or so before he gets home especially... once he finally gets home to u he can keep himself in check in public + around others, but once u two are alone at home he's all over u for basically the rest of the night DJFKG hope u dont have work the next day

100% service top no question. nothing turns him on more than your pleasure. he's fine w piv sex if that's what u want but honestly i think he rlly prefers to give oral/handjobs/etc. he'll make sure u cum at Least once before he gets any, especially!! when he's just got back from a haul. he likes to put off his own satisfaction as long as possible bc he tends to fall asleep after he cums but he doesnt want the night to end so quickly^^;

after hes finished getting u off he likes to hold u for awhile while u calm down.. n then he'll let u do whatever u like to him^^ i think he likes when u touch him the most, but really as long as you're enjoying it he's not too picky abt how u get him off

honestly he prob cums pretty fast bc he stays turned on for so long w/o stimulation, but he likes it when u edge him a little bit (not too much tho!)

i honestly don't think he's that much of a talker, esp while receiving. he gets too into it to form coherent words. u can try dirty talking him but u won't get much more than an enthusiastic nod or a whispered "yes" .. oh but he does love saying yes to you::3

THIS MAN WHIMPERS BTW. esp if u pull his hair while he's eating u out, it drives him crazy😭

very much an oral fixation kinda guy, he likes putting your fingers in his mouth, kissing, biting, licking, marking, anywhere he can get to but mainly ur neck/chest

SAYS I LOVE YOU DURING SEX IDC‼️ he melts if u say it too..

reaaaally really likes it when u take charge n tell him what to do, he'll follow ur every word

also into body worship, both receiving and giving. he works hard on his physique! tell him he's beautiful!! (he also thinks your body is perfect and will appreciate it at any opportunity ofc)

he is addictedddd to your voice n it's a big reason why he's so into pleasing you over himself, he lives to hear you whimper n gasp and moan for him. doesn't matter if ur loud or quiet, he loves ur voice bc it's yours

he also really likes to watch your expressions to see how he's doing, and because he thinks you look beautiful writhing under him, but!!!! he'd understand if u were a shy type who gets embarrassed easily, n he'd hide his face in ur neck or vice versa so he cant see u^^ he'd prob just verbally check on u a liiiiitle more often::3

[reidmania]

slow it down | s.reid

summary; when life feels like its moving too fast and you feel like you're falling behind, spencer is there to slow it down.

warnings; i kind of feel like this is occ.. fem reader, established relationships, feeling like your falling behind in life, overwhelmed, insecurity, comforting wise spencer, i lowkey feel like this is kinda cringe but IDK.. self reflection

an; um.. so i am so sorry for neglecting you guys lately.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, fingers tracing over a stack of old photos from years that somehow feel closer and farther away than they should. The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, but you can’t seem to feel it. It’s like you’re living in fast-forward, like everyone around you has figured out the secret to living, and you’re just scrambling to catch up. There’s a constant hum in the back of your mind, a quiet sense of urgency that keeps telling you, You’re falling behind.

And then there’s Spencer. Reliable, steady, intelligent Spencer, with his endless curiosity and his warm, steady gaze. Sometimes, you think he sees the world at a slower pace. He notices the way the trees change color in the fall, the way the clouds drift lazily across the sky, the way your breathing hitches when you’re overwhelmed. You’re not sure how he does it — how he lives in a world where time is patient, gentle even.

“Hey,” his voice breaks the quiet as he steps into the room, soft but firm, pulling you back to reality. “I noticed you didn’t sleep much last night.”

You give a small shrug, brushing the hair out of your face. “Just… thinking. That’s all.”

He sits beside you, close but not overwhelming, his presence grounding. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You’re not sure where to begin. There’s so much tangled up inside — the worry about where you’re going, the guilt of not doing enough, the fear that everyone else is moving forward while you’re stuck in place. It’s all too big, too heavy, and it clings to you like a second skin.

“Sometimes,” you say, staring down at your hands, “it feels like I’m watching everyone else live their lives at this… impossible speed. Like they’re running ahead, and I’m trying so hard to keep up, but I just… can’t.”

He watches you with that familiar look of quiet understanding, as though he’s absorbing every word. “I know it feels like that. But you’re doing more than you think, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Life isn’t a race, no matter what it seems like.”

You smile a little, but it’s strained. “Easy for you to say. You’re Dr. Spencer Reid. You’ve got three Ph.D’s.” It was unfair, you knew life wasn’t easy on him. He didn’t mind, he didn’t take offence at your insecurity.

His laugh is soft, a bit self-conscious. “It’s not always about how much you’ve done, you know. It’s about… what’s meaningful to you. And the world can feel fast because it’s busy and loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s moving faster than you can handle.”

You let his words sink in, wanting to believe them. He’s always been so good at that — seeing things in a way you can’t, finding meaning in moments you’d overlook. You think back to all those quiet mornings with him, sipping coffee while he reads, or the way he’ll point out little details in the most ordinary things. He lives with intention, like every second holds something worth noticing. “Teach me how to do that,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “How to… slow down, like you do.”

He shifts a little closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “We can start now, if you’d like.”

“Here?” you ask, a little surprised.

“Why not?” He gives a small shrug, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your shoulder. “The world outside can wait a little. Right now, it’s just us.”

So, you close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his hand, the even rhythm of his breathing beside you. He begins to talk, softly, almost to himself, about the small things that make up the moment — the softness of the sheets, the faint sound of birds outside, the warmth of the sunlight coming through the window. It’s strange, hearing him describe the world like this, like a piece of poetry instead of a rush of responsibilities. And slowly, something shifts within you. You’re not sure if it’s because of his voice or his hand on your shoulder, but the weight on your chest starts to ease.

“Sometimes,” he says, “I think we get caught up in thinking life has to be monumental, or it has to mean something big. But there’s value in the small moments too, even the ones where you feel like nothing is happening.”

You open your eyes and look at him. His gaze is soft, steady, like he’s known this all along but has been waiting for you to see it too. “You really believe that?”

“More than anything,” he nods, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “And maybe if we slow down, even just a little, we can find that there’s more here than we thought.”

He suggests you both go for a walk. At first, you resist — it feels like there’s no time for that. But then you see the gentle insistence in his eyes, and you let yourself give in. Outside, the air is crisp, and the leaves are beginning to change, painting the trees in vibrant shades of red and gold. You wouldn’t have noticed it on your own, but Spencer points it out, marveling at the colors like it’s the first time he’s seen them.

The path winds through a quiet park, and he takes his time pointing out things you’d usually ignore: the sound of a squirrel rustling in the bushes, the faint smell of pine, the way the sunlight filters through the branches. You begin to feel your mind quiet, your worries slipping away as you take in each small moment.

“See?” he says, smiling as he catches you watching a butterfly flutter past. “The world doesn’t have to be rushing by. We just have to choose not to rush with it.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel yourself relax. You’re not falling behind. You’re not racing to catch up. You’re just here, in this moment, with Spencer beside you, and that’s enough.

After the walk, you both settle into a quiet cafe nearby. There’s no agenda, no rush, just the simple joy of being together. You sip your coffee slowly, tasting it in a way you usually don’t, letting each sip warm you from the inside. Across the table, Spencer is reading a book, but every now and then, he glances up, meeting your eyes with a quiet smile. It feels easy, natural, as though the world outside the cafe doesn’t even exist.

The afternoon stretches on, a lazy, unhurried thing, and you find yourself wishing that every day could be like this — free from the pressure to be something, to achieve something. Just… peaceful.

“I think I could get used to this,” you say, looking out the window, watching people stroll by without a care in the world.

“Then let’s make it a habit,” he replies softly, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “Slow days. Just us. Whenever you need it.”

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised. “Even with your job? With everything you have going on?”

He nods, his gaze steady. “Life doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I want to be there for you. To be here, with you. No matter what else is going on.”

For the first time, you feel a sense of calm settle over you, like maybe — just maybe — you don’t have to keep running to be enough. That there’s space in this world for you to slow down, to take things one step at a time. And knowing that Spencer is by your side makes it all feel possible, in a way it never has before.

You lean across the table, resting your head on his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. “Thank you, Spencer. For… reminding me.”

He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Always. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out together. One slow day at a time.

As you sit there, nestled against him, you let yourself believe that it’s true — that life doesn’t have to be a race, that you’re allowed to live at your own pace, to notice the small things, to savor each moment as it comes.

For the first time in a long time, you feel yourself slow down, the endless rush in your mind finally quieting. And in that silence, you find something you didn’t even realize you were missing: a sense of peace, of belonging, of knowing that right here, in this moment, you are exactly where you’re meant to be.

[pandapetals]

Shits and Giggles

You and Logan get drunk together and get caught by Xavier.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

“I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had,” you giggled, waving the half-empty beer bottle in your hand like it was some kind of trophy. The world felt a little off-kilter, the living room spinning just slightly as you leaned against Logan on the couch.

Logan, slouched back with his legs stretched out and another empty bottle at his feet, glanced over at you, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. “Sweetheart,” he slurred, his words tinged with a hiccup, “I think we both gave up on countin' somewhere between… hell, I don’t even know.”

You snorted, dissolving into another fit of laughter that made your shoulders shake. “Between 'hell' and 'I don’t even know,'” you echoed, the absurdity of it striking you as the funniest thing in the world. “That’s gotta be at least… five?”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for another bottle on the coffee table, nearly knocking over a half-eaten bowl of pretzels in the process. “Five? Try ten,” he shot back, popping the cap off with a quick twist of his wrist. “You’re lightweight compared to me.” He took a swig, then glanced sideways at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Remember when you tried to out-drink me that one time?”

You burst into laughter again, nearly spilling your drink. “Oh my God, yes! I thought I could handle whiskey,” you said, still giggling as you shook your head. “And then I ended up singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on the pool table.”

Logan snorted, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, you were ‘Galileo’-ing so hard, I thought you were gonna fall off.” He pointed at you with the neck of his beer bottle, his grin widening. “I’ve never seen anyone get that passionate about Freddie Mercury.”

“Well,” you said, trying to compose yourself but failing as another hiccup escaped, “Freddie Mercury is worth the passion.”

You both dissolved into another round of laughter, so loud that the quiet mansion seemed to echo with it, the kind of laughter that left your sides hurting and tears forming at the corners of your eyes. It felt like the whole world had shrunk down to just the two of you—your private little universe of bad jokes and too many drinks.

Logan wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “We gotta be the loudest drunks in history,” he murmured, his voice low and amused. “Pretty sure we just woke up half the neighborhood.”

“Hey, it’s not our fault the living room has such good acoustics,” you said, hiccuping again, then letting out a laugh that quickly turned into a snort. “Plus, if the mansion was really soundproof like Xavier claims, we’d be fine.”

As if on cue, Xavier wheeled in, looking every bit the stern headmaster despite the lateness of the hour. His brows were raised in a mixture of amusement and disapproval. “And what, may I ask, is the cause of all this ruckus?” he said, his voice calm but carrying that unmistakable tone of authority.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, trying—and failing—to stifle your laughter. “Professor!” you said, eyes wide as you tried to sit up straighter. “Uh, we were just… um…”

“Studying the effects of… alcohol on… something,” Logan added, attempting to sound serious but breaking into a grin halfway through the sentence. “Purely scientific. For… education.”

Xavier sighed, shaking his head as he looked between the two of you. “At this hour? In the middle of the living room?” His lips quirked slightly like he was fighting the urge to smile. “You do realize there are other people in this mansion who require sleep?”

You bit your lip, trying to look contrite but still giggling. “Sorry, Professor,” you said, though your voice wobbled with barely contained laughter. “We’ll keep it down. Pinky promise.” You held up your little finger as if to seal the deal.

Logan glanced at you, then back at Xavier, and without missing a beat, extended his own pinky in a solemn gesture. “Swear on it,” he said, the grin still tugging at his lips.

Xavier shook his head again, a hint of a smile breaking through his stern expression. “I suppose I’ll let it slide this time,” he said, turning his chair toward the door. “But if I hear another rendition of 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' you’ll be on kitchen duty for the rest of the month.”

As soon as he left the room, you and Logan exchanged a look before breaking into laughter all over again, doubling over as you clinked your bottles together. “Kitchen duty,” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes. “I can’t even make toast without setting off the smoke alarm.”

Logan’s deep laughter echoed through the room once more as he reached over to pull you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “Guess that’s one more reason to behave,” he said, his voice still rough with amusement. “But I gotta admit, darlin’, there’s nobody I’d rather get scolded with.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the laughter finally started to die down, leaving a warm, fuzzy contentment in its wake. “Likewise,” you murmured, your voice softened by the alcohol and the comfort of his warmth. “We really are a bad influence on each other, huh?”

Logan chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Maybe,” he said quietly, “but I’d say we’re a damn good time.”

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saving What Was Lost Part 3: You Trust Me?✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I’m so excited to bring you the next chapter! This has been one of my favorite series to write, and I have so much more in store for these two! Joel is so so soft for reader 🥹 Happy reading! I love nothing more than to read your comments on what you thought, so please consider leaving me comments and reblogs 💕

Chapter Summary: You’ve got so many reasons not to trust another man again in your life, but Joel seems to give you ten for why you should trust him. One of them being calming a panic attack in the middle of a parking lot.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 9.7k

Chapter Tags: Mentions of being trafficked, flashbacks of being abused, angst, soft and protective Joel, PTSD, no use y/n, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Joel is late 40’s), pre-outbreak au, mentions of an acoustic guitar, panic attacks at the store

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The long days seem to dwindle by with your heart still lodged deep in your throat. It doesn’t seem to matter that the calming rain patters on your foggy window, doesn’t matter that fall used to be your favorite season. You feel hollow, torn apart piece by piece with every second that brushes past your icy skin. 

   You feel broken. You are broken. And you’re not sure anything will ever fix that. 

   Every day you find something new that’s too hard to manage to get your body to do. Brushing your teeth, getting yourself dressed, making yourself eat when all you can stomach is the empty feeling inside you. You’re just so tired of fighting, so very exhausted of trying to just get by. But your body screams at you to fight. 

   Fight for yourself. Win. Get out of bed, eat, make an effort to survive. So, you do. You try because that’s all you hear ringing in the back of your mind. You have to keep going. Don’t let Angela or any of the ones that dragged you down keep you from thriving. 

   Live. 

   Today is like all the other days you fight to not let your depression win. Except today marks two weeks that you’ve been here. Two weeks that you’ve survived. And as much as you feel like giving up every second of every day, you always seem to find one tiny reason to get out of bed. Joel seems to be that reason. 

   Joel… and his warm cups of coffee. The kind that he douses in creamer and sugar and caramel just for you. Because that’s how you like it. And it never fails. Every single morning your cup is there just waiting for you, including Joel’s warm smile and soft brown eyes…

   That’s your reason for getting out of bed. Joel. 

   You discovered that Joel reported you as found to the police department a few days ago. You should feel relieved that he did that, but it didn’t matter. There was no one looking for you, so it didn’t make a damn bit of a difference. No one was coming to get you… Nobody even tried reaching out which makes you feel that much worse.

   You battle with yourself, wrestling your way to slide on a pair of black leggings, along with a long cashmere sweater that falls clear down your thighs. You fight to comb the knots from your hair, clenching your teeth with every painful drag of the brush. 

   Fight. Win. Don’t let them control you.

   Flexing your trembling hands, you squeeze a generous amount of spearmint toothpaste onto your purple toothbrush and jam it into your mouth, scraping it back and forth until you don’t taste the bitter aftertaste of almost two years in captivity. 

   Your fingers tremble beneath you with every slide of the toothbrush, every clinking noise against your teeth making you gag at the memories of you being left alone with disgusting men in a tiny bathroom against your will. It’s too much, this is too much. So you rinse your mouth and scamper out of the bathroom, closing the door until you can’t feel the goosebumps rising on your skin anymore. 

   You’re safe. They’re not here. You’re free. But you don’t feel free because those painful memories are alive in your mind, painting vivid pictures that make you instantly want to vomit and recoil into bed. But you don’t let the monsters take you back down into the darkness. You flee to sunlight and hope. You make your way to something that makes you feel lighter, where you can breathe easier, to something that gives you hope. 

   And that something is Joel.

   You smell the fresh coffee brew in the air, inhaling the rich scent as if you can already taste it. When you turn the corner you see Joel’s broad back to you, busy with the coffee machine and the daily newspaper, his large hand brushing past the blur of small-print words. 

   Instead of stopping to say good morning to him, you decide to venture down the hall. You haven’t been brave enough to really take in the house and explore, but now? Maybe you could try. 

   The sunlight shines through the open glass windows, making the photographs and hanging art glitter like specks of gold surrounding the black frames. Your eyes skim the family photographs, taking in Joel’s big smile in each of them. One is of him and Tommy, arms clasped around each other’s backs with a little girl standing in front of them, who you suppose is Sarah. Her dark curls spiral to her shoulders while she wraps an arm around her dad. 

   They look so happy, like a normal family who has never been broken. You wish yours looked like that. But again, it never was. You were always surrounded by screaming parents, right on the brink of a divorce while you’d stay tucked in your room with your hands covering your ears, praying for the noise to just stop. 

   But it stopped alright. It stopped the moment they crashed their car on top of a mountain and left you to fend for yourself at your uncle’s house. An uncle that never loved you. An uncle that abandoned Washington the moment you moved out at just eighteen-years-old. And then he did too…

   You keep moving, holding your composure and tears in. Even though you feel like collapsing right in this spot, right under Joel’s family picture. A family that was still together to this day while yours was nonexistent. 

   You wish you still had a family, but you never really did in the first place. Did you? No. Mom was always too busy with looking perfect, constantly obsessing with lessening her wrinkles and getting plastic surgery. And dad? Well, he was always too busy working at the law firm and hooking up with his assistant behind mom’s back. You were always left to fend for yourself, so now isn’t any different than it’s ever been. 

   You’re alone. You’ve always been alone, always just survived. Ever since you were little, that’s all you’ve known — how to be independent and just make it. So what’s different now? Now you just have to swim through the trauma and hope you don’t drown in the process. Because this right now is too much to handle, even for you. 

   It’s too fucking much.

   Choking down the held back tears, you make your way down the long hallway, your body moving on autopilot just to escape the visions that blur into muted noise. The pristine white walls clash against the polished floors, painting you a picture of hope. Something you’ve never really had before. 

   Keep fighting. Live. Make a change. Break the cycle. 

   Holding on to new hope, you keep going until you turn the corner and find a large, open room that makes you audibly gasp. All memories of broken families and internal fears are suddenly forgotten, pushed aside to take in this glorious sight. 

   Holy shit. 

   Towering mahogany bookshelves sit stacked against the white walls, the cascading windows letting in enough sunlight to reflect off the broken-in spines of each book. Two plush ivory oversized chairs sit in the corner of the room, one opposite the other. An electric fireplace sits idle against one of the bookshelves, draped in vines from the tropical plant that splays atop the bookshelf nearest the fireplace. 

   This room is… magical. Exactly what you needed. An escape from reality. An escape from your mind. 

   You trace lines against the smooth covers of the various books, feeling the cracked spines and intricate cursive letters on some of the older books. There’s genres of everything you could ever imagine. Starting from ancient history and going all the way to popular fictional books that you’d see on New York’s best seller’s lists. This room has everything. 

   You could get lost in here.

   Forgetting where you are, your hand snaps back when you hear a deep chuckle behind you. “Thought I heard you come down this mornin’. See you found one of my favorite rooms.”

   When you turn around, you see him smiling over at you, the glow of the sun making his brown eyes sparkle an almond brown honey color. If you’re being honest with yourself, it makes you feel a little lighter because his eyes are so warm. 

   He’s warm. 

   “These are all yours?” you ask with a gasp as your finger continues to trail against the golden spine of an old history book. 

   “All mine. Well, a lot of ‘em I got for Sarah. You see, she’s a bit of a bookworm, and she might’ve got me into the classics. So, now I’m jus’ as bad as her,” he laughs as he leans against the bright wall, his smile light and easy like the relaxed state he’s in now. 

   “This place, it’s incredible,” you breathe out, continuing to skim over the spotless shelves, your fingertips clashing with leather and the feel of worn pages. It smells like freedom and escape, someplace where you could stay buried for days. 

   He runs his fingers through his slicked back curls, bicep flexing against his dark blue flannel, an easy smile hanging on his lips. This might be the most relaxed you’ve seen him since you came here. He looks almost… happy the way he’s looking at you all light and carefree, like he’s enjoying the view. Like he’s happy that you’ve found something else you lost. 

   “You like it?” he asks, his eyes caramel pools that you could almost sink into. 

   “I love it,” you reply enthusiastically, your voice almost unrecognizable. 

   A warm smile spreads on his mouth, making his brown eyes sparkle that much more in the dewy sunlight. “Then it’s yours, sweetheart. Borrow anything you want, read what you want.”

   “Really?” you ask with a raised brow, sliding a book back into its place on the second shelf.

   “Really,” he nods with a smile.

   “Joel, thank you. This is… this is perfect.”

   “Jus’ glad I found someone I can share my books with again.” 

   You stay just like that for the next minute — Joel on the other end of the room, looking back at you with the warmest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes your heart flutter, makes you want to smile back, but you just give him a tight-lipped smile and look back at the cream rug covering the floor, suddenly too shaky to say anything else.

   Your eyes snap to something hidden in the corner of the room, a ray of sunlight hitting at just the right angle to make out something you missed entirely when you walked in. You guess you were too enamored by the books to notice the acoustic guitar sitting neatly on a stand right by the sheer curtain hanging over the window. 

   “Is this yours?” you ask, pointing to the acoustic guitar.

   “Oh. Yeah, s’mine.” His eyes fall to the dark wood, the body glossy and sleek as it shines against the draped curtain. A splash of sunlight makes it shimmer for just a moment, until rain clouds cover the sun and cast the guitar back in shadows.

   “You play guitar?” you question curiously as he takes a long, slow stride across the room. 

   “I used to. A long time ago.”

   You watch him make his way over to the guitar. It’s like he’s tiptoeing across glass, careful in his steps to not trip and cut his tanned skin up. That’s how it seems when he hesitantly reaches out to glide his fingertips down the tight strings, skimming his thumb meticulously against the smooth surface of the polished neck as if he’s memorizing every single particle of the instrument. Like he’s reliving something he keeps hidden away from the rest of the world to see.

   He’s quiet as he analyzes the guitar, almost like he’s reliving memories that only he can see. Were they good or bad ones? Judging by his wary stance and slow movements, you wonder if maybe they’re fragile memories.

   “Used to?” you ask quietly, careful not to disturb whatever storm’s blowing through his mind. 

   “‘S’right. Haven’t played in quite some time,” he answers defeatedly as his thumb tracks along the outline of a carved moth. He lingers there for a moment, pinching his eyebrows together as if he’s trying to fight off whatever images are haunting his mind. 

   He looks… sad. Looks as if that guitar holds years of painful memories. 

   “Why’d you stop?” you push, afraid you’ve just struck a nerve by the way his back muscles tense and his jaw clenches up. 

   His hand wraps around the neck of the guitar, veins bulging in his neck as his eyes grow a shade darker. In the flit of sunshine that creeps through the window, you see a glimmer that looks a lot like a held back tear in the center of his right eye. That in itself sends a shot of pain through your chest. 

   He clears his throat and takes a step back, just enough to where he can only graze the edge of the guitar. His dark brown eyes are in a faraway place when he replies hesitantly. “It jus’—it… I guess it’s got a few memories attached to it that makes it hard to play now.”

   When he drops his hand to his side and looks up at you, you see a man who’s hurting deep inside. You can see it in his weathered stare, in the dark circles beneath his sad brown eyes, in the way his bottom lip twitches each time his gaze falls on that acoustic guitar. 

   There’s something he lost, too. You just don’t know what. 

   Before the room gets too stifling and stuffy, he shakes off his frown and nods toward the hallway. “C’mon, I’ve got your coffee waitin’ on the counter for you. Don’t want it to get cold now.”

   “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

   He gives you a tight-lipped smile and exits the room, leaving you all alone once again. You find yourself looking back at the guitar, your eyes feeling heavy as you stare at the little moth ingrained into the smooth wood. There’s just something about it that makes your stomach drop. 

   This guitar was special to him, maybe it still is. You just wonder what can make a big, strong man like him crumble. You don’t want to see him turn to dust like you; you’ve got enough pain for the both of you. He doesn’t deserve pain. He’s too… good. And while he doesn’t technically wear his heart on his sleeve, you can see he keeps the pain hidden behind a mask. 

   Maybe one day he’ll show you his scars, too.

   When you make your way back to the kitchen, your warm cup of coffee is sitting right there on the quartz island, the steam billowing out as if he just poured it. As you slip into your chair, you notice his shoulders are more relaxed and the weathered stare he had back in that room is nearly gone. Whether he put on a mask or tucked his feelings deep inside his pockets to where you can’t see, you still notice the dark lines that edge beneath his brown eyes.

   Something hurt him, and it still haunts him to this day. 

   Slowly taking a sip of the sugary drink, your eyes snap up to him when you hear the deep timbre of his voice. “Used up the rest of the caramel this mornin’.” 

   You swallow the coffee down your throat and shift forward on the barstool. “Already?”

   He chuckles and nods his head your way. “Apparently someone who’s got a sweet tooth used it all. Can’t imagine who that was.” He winks at you, and you can feel the bright blush stain your cheeks the wider his smile gets. 

   Clearing your throat, you push a lock of hair behind your ear and try to stop the red tint from spreading any further. “Looks like you found the culprit.”

   “Looks like it,” he smiles, his lips tugging at his tanned skin, making a deep dimple press into the middle of his cheek. You can’t help yourself, so you give him a shy smile back in return. It seems to make his brown eyes sparkle that much brighter as he stares at you. 

   You take a few more sips of the caramel drink, enjoying every single drop like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Joel sets down his glass cup and bites his bottom lip, chewing nervously as he glances over at you. “I need to go pick up some things at the grocery store today. Shouldn’t take long at all, but I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come along with me?”

   You choke on a sip of coffee and struggle to find your words. You haven’t been out in the real world in a very long time. You don’t even know how to even interact, nonetheless see strangers passing by you. 

   Tapping your nails nervously against the glass cup, you fight to get the words out. “Oh. You… want me to go to the store with you?”

   “Only if you want. Figured you’d wanna pick some things out.” 

   “Umm. Okay. Sure. I can go with you,” you breathe out nervously, pushing all your fears down as you swallow back the answer you really wanted to say.

   “Alright. Well, how’s ‘bout you finish up breakfast, and we can go after you get ready?” His thumb brushes over the curve of his coffee cup, and your eyes track his movements as he slowly brings the edge to his lips. 

   And then you’re swallowing back fears again and dropping your eyes to the floor, awaiting the panic that’ll surely flood your system when you get to the store. 

   You can do this. Fight the fear. 

   Biting the bullet, you look up and give him a slight nod. “Okay, after breakfast.”

   Joel grins and turns back to the refrigerator, away from your now wide eyes. You’re suddenly regretting your choice, but you have to go through with it. You have to be brave. For yourself. 

   You can do this. 

   Light rain patters on the passenger window, sending water droplets splashing along the side mirror. It’s only sprinkling, but the thunder in the near distance makes it seem like it might pour down at any second. 

   The engine hums as the wheels roll on the pavement, green trees blurring as Joel drives along the long, straight road. An old country song seeps through the speakers as Joel’s thumb taps along to the catchy tune. It’s oddly peaceful, driving with him in his truck. It almost makes you forget the nerves crawling up your spine. 

   “Does it always rain this much in Texas? I thought it was supposed to be like a desert here,” you ask, your eyes tracking the sea of trees outside your window.

   “Usually is. Hell, we’re usually in a drought. But for some reason, we’ve been gettin’ a record amount this year. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” he says as he continues driving through the mist.

   “That’s strange.” You trace the condensation on the window and draw little lines, hoping you’ll forget you’re about to go out in public. 

   “You must’ve brought some rain from Washington.” He smiles over at you and continues tapping his thumb along to the rhythm of the upbeat song. 

   “Guess I did,” you laugh under your breath as you finish off your window art of a blooming flower.

   The music goes silent as Joel turns down the radio with the pad of his index finger. When you turn to look at him with questions in your eyes, he clears his throat and looks warily over at you. “Do you… do you miss it?”

   “Miss what?” you whisper, letting your fingers pull against the edge of your warm sweater. 

   “Washington,” he responds back, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead.

   You take a moment to envision the forest green trees, the frigid air by the edge of the sea, the cliffsides you used to hang over to stare into the deep blue ocean. And that’s when you feel a sharp pain jab inside your chest. “Sometimes… I miss the waterfalls, the salty breeze of the ocean, the beautiful nature. I’ve never seen a state as gorgeous as Washington. And how green it is? Yeah, I guess I do miss it…”

   The front of the truck grows quiet as Joel takes in your answer. His palm rakes against his dark beard slowly, brushing across his mouth like he’s thinking really hard about your answer. And just when you think he’ll drop the conversation, he says something that leaves you speechless.

   “I’ll take you back.”

   Your eyes blow wide as you repeat the sentence in your head. I’ll take you back. Why would he do that…

   “What?” you ask, jaw dropped like you just got slapped in the face. 

   He gives you a small smile and looks over at you with the softest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “When you’re ready, that is. And only if you want to go back. I could help you get your feet back on the ground, find you a nice place where you’ll be comfortable. If that’s what you want.”

   You stare at him dumbstruck, your words lodged deep in your throat with every second that ticks by. He’ll take you back. But why would he do that for you? Why would he do what no one else would? Why does he care what happens to you…

   “Joel, that’s—that’s too much. I can’t ask you to do that,” you protest, shaking your head like what he just said is impossible.

   He shakes his head, making a sandy lock of hair fall against the side of his forehead. “It’s not too much, and I’d do it in a heartbeat. S’no trouble,” he says adamantly, like he won’t hear anything else about it. It’s settled for him.

   “Thank you…” you whisper out, your voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. 

   He arches an eyebrow and looks over at you, tugging his lips into an easy smile. “Ya know, gonna have to get you your own car, too.”

   “Joel,” you warn through clenched teeth. He is not getting you a car. Absolutely no way.

   “What?” he shrugs. “You can’t get around without a car.”

   You shake your head unbelievably and open your mouth wide. “I can’t pay for a car.”

   “‘M not askin’ you to. I’ve got money.”

   And again, you can’t believe how insistent and easy-going he’s taking this. “Joel. I can’t ask you for a car. Absolutely not. And besides, I’m not ready to drive yet.”

   He flashes you a smile and gives you a nod of encouragement. “S’alright, sweetheart. You’ll get there in time. And when you do, you’ll have a car.”

   You lick your bottom lip, frustrated slightly that he’s being so kind to you. No one has ever been this nice in your entire life. Not even your parents… Why is he treating you like you’re important? You’ve never been important. So why does he act like you’re the only thing that currently matters? 

   “There’s no stopping you, is there?” you give up, your back flush to the warm seat as you stare into deep brown eyes that belong to the kindest man you’ve ever met. 

   He thinks you’re important. 

   “Not a chance,” he chuckles, his airy laugh floating through the cabin of the truck, striking another nerve in your heart. 

   He’s so kind, more than that. He genuinely wants you to thrive, to live. That takes a little weight off your heavy chest.

   It’s quiet for a moment, only the light wind and patter of raindrops taking up the space. But then he shifts uncomfortably and flicks his wandering eyes back over at you. There’s a deep crease between his thick eyebrows, and that look has you back on the edge of your seat. “Can I ask you somethin’?” he asks delicately.

   You swallow back nerves and nod your head in response. “Umm, okay. Sure.”

   “What, umm. What happened to your parents, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

   The question makes you tilt a little off your axis, throws you off just enough to where your right hand is discreetly clenched so tight around the side of the seat that you swear it turns pale white. You weren’t prepared for that question. You’re never prepared. But, you might as well just spill it. What else do you have to lose? 

   “They—they died when I was fifteen… Crashed their car on the side of a mountain, and they ended up rolling off the edge. On the very same day they were driving to get a divorce…”

   His eyes blow wide for a second and in the next he’s dragging a heavy hand over his mouth. “Oh, sweetheart. ‘M so sorry. That’s… traumatic.”

   You can’t help but to puff out a pathetic laugh from that. Your life has been nothing but traumatic; you just learn to live through it. 

   You silently nod and continue on. “After I found out, the judge decided I’d go live with my uncle. An uncle who barely talked to me. He didn’t even want me there, but I had no other options. So, I left as soon as I turned eighteen and moved into a dorm when I went to college.”

   “Is he still…”

   “He moved out of Washington as soon as I left. Last I heard, he died from a heart attack. So I’ve just kinda been on my own since I was eighteen. But really, I’ve been alone for much longer than that.”

   The inside of the truck goes completely silent, except the quiet hum of the purring engine. You don’t exactly like talking about your family drama and your awful past, but it’s easier when you already feel dead inside. Maybe if you talk enough Joel will decide to drop you off on the side of the street and leave you with a good luck wave. 

   He wouldn’t do that, though. That’s just your unhinged mind spiraling like your entire life is.  

   “That’s… fuck. No one should ever be put through that. What you did, what you had to do. M’so sorry.”

   You shrug it off and act like you’re just fine, but really you just don’t want to cry. You don’t want to show him how weak and pathetic you truly are. You used to be stronger than this… 

   Holding in a sob, you play it off like it’s nothing. “It’s alright. I mean, I’ve been through a lot worse since then. I guess I’m good at being alone…”

   It gets quiet again, only light breathing and shifting uncomfortably in your seat, trying to hide the pain that’s serenading through your body. Joel’s eyes keep flicking over to you, a pained expression masking his tanned face. He’s clenching his jaw, running his fingers through his dark locks, fisting the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. 

   His head turns to you when he’s stopped at a red light, and his eyes turn a lighter honey color, and those soft eyes nearly shatter you in your seat. “You don’t have to be. Alone. You don’t have to be alone anymore...”

   You swallow back the tears building in your eyes while your mouth drops open in awe. Before you even get the chance to say anything, he’s stepping on the gas and looking back into the fog of the rainy day. 

   You don’t have to be alone anymore. 

   The rest of the ride is silent as you contemplate his words and their meaning. You don’t have to be alone. He means you don’t have to be alone because he’s here now. He won’t let you be alone. Joel is the one person who isn't giving up on you. 

   He’s so patient, so generous, so good. He’s too good for you but here he is, wading through the rough waters to make sure your head’s above the waves. He won’t let you drown. Not today, maybe not ever…

   After a few more minutes, the truck is abruptly stopping, and Joel is cutting the engine. Your head lurches up, and you stare vacantly at the semi-busy parking lot. 

   The parking lot…

   It looks just like the one you got taken from… Rows of parked cars sit along the damp cement, empty carts are scattered ahead in the little blue cart holder, people rush to and from the store back to their cars. And then you see a man exit his white Sedan with a black baseball cap backwards on his head. The sight has you flinching, your nails digging into the leather of the seat when he turns his head and looks directly at you. It’s only for a second, but you feel those black pits searing into your skull just like that day they took you…

   “Well, here we are. A little more crowded than I thought it’d be for a Wednesday afternoon. We can jus’—.”Joel’s hand clasps the side of the driver’s door as he steps out, looking back at you with worried brown eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

   It’s like your voice is lurched deep in your throat as water consumes your entire vocal cords. You can’t swallow, can’t speak, can barely even blink as you watch the shady man cross the road, taking one look back at you until he disappears behind the clear sliding doors of the store. And it still feels like he’s watching you, planning his next move to where he can get you alone. 

   You remember that day all over again, just like it was yesterday. And now, all you can think of to do is panic.

   “N… no. I—.” You can’t even finish your sentence, only able to throw your seatbelt off and claw at the door handle, feeling like you’re suffocating on thick air that nearly strangles you to death. 

   You need to flee, run until your lungs collapse, but you have nowhere to go. 

   Tears well in your eyes as you fight to push out the images of the day you were taken, but they only push back harder, igniting your memories into fresh ones. You’re hyperventilating, holding your chest so tightly that you feel your heart skyrocket as you shake in your seat while your feet are planted on the wet cement of the parking lot. 

   Joel hurries around the side of the truck and throws your door open, trying his best to calm you down. “Hey, hey. It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. Breathe for me.”

   “Joel… I…”

   “Breathe,” he coaxes in a soothing bravado voice. He kneels down in front of you to where he’s looking right up at you, and he’s got those soft brown eyes — the ones that always seem to calm you down. And when you have enough courage to lift your eyes, there they are. Warm, brown, soft, soothing. He’s soothing. 

   “That’s it. Take a nice deep breath for me. Jus’ like that. Attagirl,” he praises, keeping his honey-colored eyes right on you. 

   “I—I was…” you start but like always, you can’t finish. 

   You’re pathetic.

   “S’alright, sweetheart. M’right here. Jus’ breathe for me. And when you’re ready, tell me what’s wrong.” His hand brushes past your feet, close enough to touch your exposed ankle, but he never does. Because he knows better. He knows it’ll just set off a string of catastrophic events that’ll only lead you into a deeper black hole than you already are. 

   But yet, you can’t help but want it. Because you feel how warm he is. Just like that night he carried you to the bathroom. You remember how warm and comforting you felt with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, remember his woodsy cologne drowning out your fight or flight panic, remember how gentle he was with you…

   You slowly lift your eyes up and push away the screaming voices in your mind. They seem to come to a jarring halt when you meet those soft brown eyes and a face you swear has an angelic glow about it. His fingers flex against the floorboard, just enough to where you can feel the warmth from his tanned skin, and just that motion causes your heart to still for just a beat. 

   Warm. He’s so warm. 

   After a few more seconds of steady breaths and his heavy gaze honing in on you, you get enough courage to shakily let your words out. “I was—I was taken in a parking lot just like this. In the middle of the day. And I—I guess I wasn’t quite ready to see another one.”

   He falls silent, and his face drops like he’s just seen a ghost. His eyes glaze over as a heavy hand rakes down his clipped beard, slowly dragging it over his lips as he takes in your words. “Oh. Christ, m’so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t even think ‘bout that before I brought you here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

   Shaking your head back and forth, you swallow and grimace. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t—I didn’t think I’d freak out. But then the memories hit me and I—I… it’s my fault. It’s all my—.”

   He leans into the side of the truck, careful not to touch you, but still close enough to where you can almost taste his woodsy breath. “Shh. Don’t for a second think of apologizin’, sweetheart. None of this is your fault. Not one fuckin’ bit of it.”

   He looks at you so intensely, so cautiously that you can clearly see the amber flecks that swirl under the cloudy skies, his jaw flexing back and forth as he searches for more to say, but he doesn’t have to say anything. You feel what he’s feeling. Regret, rage, sorrow. He wishes it never happened to you.

   You take a shaky breath and glance up behind him, right as an older couple with two kids clinging to their arms passes peacefully by. A car door slams shut across the way, and it makes you jump in place, remembering that very moment you were corralled into a black van as the door slammed shut behind you, warning you that you were trapped.

   As you cringe in your seat and feel your knuckles go white, you whisper, “I’m scared, Joel. I can’t—I can’t...”

   “Hey. Can you look up at me?” he asks gently, slightly brushing the pad of his thumb against the side of your shoe. When you look up with watery eyes, he gives you an encouraging nod. “There ya go.”

   Your body is trembling with every swift movement and every screeching halt of tires in the parking lot. You start to drift back into a panic, but Joel sees right through you and pulls you right back out with his chocolate brown eyes.

   “Keep your eyes on me. Right on me. That’s it. Such a brave girl,” he coos; his voice sounding like a melodic tune that vanishes all your dark thoughts from wrapping their tangled vines completely around your stirred mind. 

   As you continue to stare at those beautiful caramel eyes, you get lost in the sound of his Southern drawl. “I want you to focus on one thing. It can be anything. A scent, a color, whatever brings you comfort. And I want you to focus on that one thing until your mind starts to quiet down.”

   You look around the truck, searching the fresh leather, letting your eyes wander to a nearby green tree, focusing on some drifting stormy clouds that cover the sun. But none of that makes you feel good or even remotely calm, so you let your eyes wander to the rugged, Southern gentleman who’s kneeling right in front of you, begging with those soft brown eyes for you to get even just a semblance of a second of peace. 

   Warm. He’s so warm.

   You get lost in his cinnamon, woodsy scent, fade into his coffee-colored eyes and feel like you’re crashing right into him. You can’t seem to stop staring, almost like you’re under a lovesick spell, but really it’s just your body telling you he is what brings you comfort. Joel Miller, the man who saved you from your impending doom. 

   So, that’s what you focus on. Him and his warm brown eyes.

   “Okay,” you finally whisper out, never dropping your eyes from his.

   He looks at you a second and tilts his head, making sure he heard you right. “You got it?”

   “Mhm,” you hum back.

   A faint smile appears on his mouth and then his hand is skimming the brim of the floor, close enough for you to feel the electricity from his touch zapping your leggings. But still, he doesn’t dare touch you. He’d never do it without your permission. You know this now. 

   “Now, close your eyes and picture that one thing that’s gonna drown out everything else,” he says through the light rain pattering on the tips of his broad shoulders, right onto his soft blue flannel. 

   “Joel…” you reply back leery. 

   “You trust me?” he asks with knit together eyebrows.

   You chew your bottom lip for a second before you answer, throwing the question back and forth between your brain. “I—yes.”

   He gives you a smile and nods. “Close ‘em for me then. Jus’ for a second.” You do exactly as he says.

   When your eyes are fully shut, his Southern drawl floats through your ears. “Focus on my voice, sweetheart. Focus on how still it is; make your heart that same rhythm. Slow it down, jus’ like my words.”

   You focus on every breath he breathes, every sound of the shift of his shoulders, every whisk of the wind sweeping through his tousled curls. For this moment, every single other restless sound outside the truck is silent. For the first time, all you hear is him.

   You center your mind on him and him alone. And when that whiff of cedar trees and mahogany swirl all around you, you relax and breathe him in like he’s the last thing you’ll ever smell.

   “Now, open your eyes,” he says after you lose track of time. 

   You slowly lift your eyelids and look out beneath your lashes as those bright brown eyes send you into a cloud of serenity. And in that moment, you really do feel like you’re home. 

   “There ya go, nice and slow. Feel that? Things are a bit quieter now,” he says gently, giving you a soft smile that makes you choke back tears. 

   Nodding, you reply, “Yeah, it actually is quieter.”

   It’s quiet for a beat as you sit there, your palms on your thighs, fingers digging into your leggings, but his presence right in front of you is oddly calming. Just like taking a deep breath of Washington air in the mountains. You swear you almost smell those pine trees like you’re there, but it’s Joel you smell.

   “You feel a little better?” he asks, scratching his fingers down his greying scruff, brown eyes flicking up at you like you’re the most important thing in the room.

   “Yes,” you nod, still trying to wrap your mind around how quickly Joel was able to calm you down. 

   “See? Knew you could do it.” His smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and it makes you give him a shy smile in return. 

   When’s the last time someone was able to get you to smile? You can’t even remember. 

   “I did it because you helped me,” you confirm, wanting to make sure he knows he was the reason you had the courage to break through your panic attack.

   “That’s right, sweetheart. I helped you, but you were the one that broke the panic attack. You’re so very brave, and I hope you know that.”

   You’re so brave. He called you brave.

   The way he’s looking at you makes your heart skip a beat. All soft and gentle and warm. You’ve never been around a man like Joel. Never once knew how good a man could be. But Joel, he’s like an angel sent from Heaven’s gates just for you. Or so it seems. 

   You swore to never trust a man again, but you can trust him. 

   “Now, you think you can make it in the store?” He tilts his head in the direction of the sliding doors, just as a young couple walks in with an empty grocery basket.

   Gulping some courage down, you nod. “I—I think so.”

   “Attagirl. Now, c’mon.” He holds the door open for you and calls your name softly, giving you that jolt you need to exit the truck. “It’s alright. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya. Not while I’m here.”

   “You promise?” you ask when your feet hit the concrete, your voice shaky like you don’t quite believe him, but you do.

   “Promise,” he nods, his crow’s feet pulling at the corners of his bright eyes. It’s enough to get your legs moving.

   “Okay,” you whisper.

   You follow closely on his heels, your fingertips grazing the bottom of his flannel, close enough to grab on if you need to. Your heart is galloping a thousand miles an hour with every step you take, but his woodsy scent is just enough to quiet down the yelling in your head.

   When you get to the edge of the sliding doors, you freeze when they open to a busy grocery store. The loud noises of rustling bags and screeching wheels of carts is enough to make you want to run the opposite way.

   Joel must sense your worry because he brushes his arm next to yours and looks down at you with knitted eyebrows. “S’alright. I’m gonna be right by your side every step of the way. You can do this.”

   You can do this. 

   Looking up into his syrupy brown eyes gives you that little bit of strength to get you moving again. And when he grabs a shopping cart and beckons you to follow him, you do.

   “Thanks for believing in me, Joel,” you say graciously.

   “Always.”

   You keep right by his side, the fluorescent lights feeling like spotlights shining down on you. It’s like every single person shifts their eyes toward you, faces distorted and smiling like they’re laughing at your fear. The music that filters out of the speakers makes your ears ring. Children run rampant around a restless mother, a tall man with a backwards baseball cap reaches across a barrel full of pineapples, and it’s as if he’s reaching for your wrist. 

   Without thinking, you grab on to the end of Joel’s flannel and tug it toward you, digging your fingers into the soft cotton as if it’s a safety blanket. The smell of fresh firewood and green grass envelops your senses and for the moment, everything becomes a little more still. 

   “You keep tuggin’ on my flannel and you’re gonna pull it right off,” Joel chuckles, giving you a small smile as he looks back at you. 

   “Oh, sorry,” you apologize, dropping your fingers as if you just upset him. 

   “Don’t gotta apologize. You jus’ hang on if that’s what you need right now.”

   You slowly reach back up and flex your fingers around the blue material, peeking up hesitantly beneath your lashes. 

   “Your flannel, it smells like the forest. Reminds me of the mountains in Washington. It umm… it calms me down.”

   “Well then, it’s yours, sweetheart.” Those pools of honey liquid melt you on the spot; his warm smile takes the edge of fear off your chest for just that moment. And when that whiff of autumn from his white t-shirt floats through the air, it’s like he saved you all over again. 

   He drops his hands from the shopping cart and starts unbuttoning his flannel, carefully shrugging it off his broad shoulders as you stare blankly up at him. And then, he’s holding out the faded blue material to you.

   “No, I can’t. I’m fine. I—.” You take a step back and press a palm his way.

   “Here, put it on,” he insists, stretching his arm until you have no option but to take it.

   “Are you sure?” you squeak out, unsure of yourself.

   “Mhm. Want you to feel safe. And if this makes you feel a little calmer, want you to wear it.”

   Hesitating, you carefully pluck it from his reach and end up sliding your hand against the back of his, feeling a tingle of a spark from his worn, calloused skin.

   “Thanks, Joel,” you whisper above the monotone music playing over the store speakers.

   “Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.” He nods his head toward the produce section and smiles. “C’mon.”

   You stay right beside him, almost flush to his hip with every wavering stride you take, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. No, he just keeps his brown eyes flickering over to you every minute that ticks by, encouraging you with that kind smile of his, telling you with the curve of his lips that you’re doing so well. You can almost hear that Southern drawl sliding off his tongue. 

   I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Doin’ so good. Look at you, bein’ the bravest girl I know. 

   Even though he’s not verbally saying those things at this second, you can tell he’s thinking it with the way his doe eyes soften every time they look your way. You can tell by how warm and kind his essence is, how his smile seems to send a flicker of sunshine your way even behind a thick wall of grey clouds. 

   He’s just… safe. You feel so safe around him, and that’s something you’ve never felt in your entire life. You’ve never been safe. But with him, you just might be.

   The clicking of heels and the stare of curious eyes makes you physically cringe and tense your shoulders, thinking one of them will snatch you away yet again. You keep your mind busy by counting the threads of Joel’s blue flannel, training your eyes on his slicked back tan curls, meticulously staring at every single strand that’s wrapped in a silver glow. It seems to help, gives the impression that maybe you can do this. And you are. 

   At times when he strays too far, you reach for him unintentionally. It’s like your hand is magnetized to the feel of his cotton shirt, your fingers curling into the thick material. And again, he doesn’t seem to mind, only smiles and goes on with gathering groceries. 

   He doesn’t forget the caramel, doesn’t forget to grab a few bottles of vanilla creamer and extra sugar. In fact, those were the things he went for first. 

   He doesn’t forget things. Doesn’t forget what you wanted. And that in itself proves something. What, you’re not sure. But it proves he cares, that you do know.

   You follow him to the produce section and watch him shift his focus on picking the best meat, promising to get the best steak for dinner. You haven’t had steak in years, and you don’t doubt for one second that Joel can cook a mean one. 

   Averting your eyes from his pensive stare and flexed jaw, your gaze wanders over to the cereal aisle, and you suddenly have the biggest craving for a box of Cocoa Pebbles.  

   Saliva gathers in your mouth as you think of how sugary and good and delightful a mouthful of chocolatey goodness would taste right now. Without thinking, you pull on the end of his shirt, stretching the material mindlessly as your brain transfixes on the mountain of sugar just a few feet away. It’d be so easy to go grab a box, but your feet won’t move, your words won’t form because you’re terrified to be alone for even a second in a grocery store of all places.

   With one more slight tug on the edge of his t-shirt, he turns with a soft expression and questions, “What is it, sweetheart?” No anger or hint of annoyance in his Southern drawl, just pure warmth. 

   Your voice stays silent, your immense stare fixed on that aisle of sugar and thousands of calories you’d happily inhale. You’re sure your frail body would thank you, even if it was just junk. Joel’s eyes trace over yours, following to where yours end, and then a small chuckle leaves his lips. “You wanna go grab some?”

   “Yeah.”

   “Go on then. Why don’t you go pick some out?” He nods to the empty aisle, encouraging you on. But you stand there like your feet are cemented to the shiny floor, and you have no intention of moving. 

   Fear pulses through your blood, and anxiety is trickling down your spine. Joel takes a step forward and drawls in a low but soothing voice, “S’okay. I’ll be right here watchin’. You can do it, sweetheart.”

   You look up and see warm pools of honey staring down at you and a smile that makes your knees feel weak. He’s so fucking soft with you. 

   Nodding, you take a step forward and then another, dragging your feet toward the aisle of boxes of sugary goodness. The further you get away from him, the more anxious you get. 

   What if someone takes you, gets too close to your liking, grabs your arm and drags you away? Looking back toward Joel, he gives you a small nod, telling you it’s okay. You’re okay. 

   Turning back to your task at hand, you start scanning the shelves, your appetite suddenly stimulated as you scavenge for what you’re looking for. Saliva is coating the back of your tongue, your stomach rumbling. There’s too many choices, too many kinds you want. 

   When you finally spot a box of Cocoa Pebbles, you see two more kinds you want. Lucky Charms and Cinnamon Toast Crunch sit right next to each other, calling your name for you to take them. Gritting your teeth together, you make a choice. You want all three, so you dip into your impulses and grab them all up. Hopefully Joel doesn’t mind. 

   A middle-aged man passes you in the row, and your muscles tighten around you, making you squish the boxes together in your arms. You focus on deep breaths, telling yourself he’s not going to hurt you. Not every man is out to get you, but it certainly feels like that now. Maybe one day you’ll be able to break the cycle of thinking that. 

   Quickly passing the stranger, you prance up to Joel, all three cereal boxes shoved together in your arms, just like you’re a kid in a candy store. You hear him chuckling before you lift your eyes up to him, and then he lets out a belly-aching laugh. 

   “Look at you with three boxes. You really do have a sweet tooth, don’t ya?”

   You feel your cheeks grow warm as you set the boxes down in the cart. Nervous laughter filters out of your mouth. “I couldn’t quite decide what I wanted. I can put some back if…”

   “No. I’m jus’ teasin’, sweetheart. You get as many kinds as you want. Ain’t got a limit with me.” His wide grin and crow’s feet makes a small smile tug at the corner of your lips. 

   “Thanks,” you say shyly. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had any cereal, or really any kind of sugar. So, this is different. I’m not used to any of this.”

   Understanding hits his brown eyes and his jaw clenches as something tosses through his mind. “Well, we’re jus’ gonna have to change that, ain’t we?” 

   Pursing your lips, you nod. “Call me a work in progress.”

   He gives you a soft smile and wraps a large hand around the cart. “You’re doin’ jus’ fine, sweetheart. Makin’ plenty of progress jus’ by steppin’ foot in this store today. Proud of you.”

   He’s proud of you.

   “I wouldn’t have even made it into the store if it wasn’t for you…”

   He takes a long look at you and just stands there for a few seconds, searching for the right words to say. “It was all you, sweetheart. You jus’ needed a little push in the right direction and someone to be there for you.”

   “Thank you for being there when I needed someone, Joel…” you whisper, your eyes a little misty with emotions running rampant through your body. 

   It looks like he wants to reach out, but he just grips the handle of the shopping cart tighter and tips his head. “‘Course, sweetheart. Whenever you need me.”

   Whenever you need me. The words get stuck on repeat in your brain as you follow him through the rest of the grocery store. You think you’d follow him anywhere.

   When you’re all checked out and the bagged groceries are sitting inside the cart, you realize Joel’s flannel is still wrapped around you. You don’t want to take it off necessarily. It smells like him, and it’s so warm and cozy and basically drenched in forest air. But, it’s not yours. You slowly start to shed the warm layer, but he stops you before you can get it past your elbows. 

   “Keep it, sweetheart.” He presses a palm out, pausing you in your tracks.

   “Don’t you want it back?” you ask with knitted brows.

   “Nah, you go ahead and keep it,” he answers. Before you can walk out the door, he turns and smiles warmly at you. “Besides, it looks better on you.” And then he continues on, like he didn’t just give you a compliment. 

   It looks better on you. 

   You hug the blue flannel back against your body, breathing in the very essence of him that seems to calm every single nerve in your body. 

   He gave you his flannel.

   Once the groceries are all packed away in the back of the truck and both you and Joel are buckled up, he turns to you before driving out of the parking lot. “So, you wanna go get ice cream?” 

   “Ice cream?”

   “Mhm. Ice cream,” he confirms.

   “Whatever for?” you giggle.

   “Don’t you like ice cream?” he inquires, flicking his brown eyes over your way.

   “Well, yes. But…”

   “I think brave girls deserve ice cream. Don’t you?”

   You study him, looking for any sign of lies in the crow’s feet that pull tightly around the edges of his chocolate brown eyes, but you find none. He isn’t messing with you or your mind; he’s being completely sincere when he uses the word brave. “You think I’m a brave girl?”

   “The bravest.” He smiles, his eyes twinkling like golden orbs under the grey skies, and it just confirms how warm he is. 

   You gawk at him, your lips parting as you just stare and stare at him. He thinks you’re brave, and he wants to take you for ice cream? Who even is this man? 

   “What?” He catches you staring and probably wonders why you’re just marveling over him. He must not realize you’re completely mesmerized by every single thing he does. 

   No one’s ever treated you so human. Like you’re important and matter. Joel sees you. He really sees you. Your layers and all. Just like transparent glass.

   “You just surprise me, that's all,” you answer hesitantly, eyes still focused on his tanned skin and wrinkles that line like maps across his face. Something you could trace easily. “You’re not exactly what I expected, I guess.”

   “And what’d you expect?” He quirks an eyebrow up as the engine hums under your seat, his eyes making their way back to your face.

   “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think you’d be so… kind.”

   He curls his lips into a sideways smile while he taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel, eyes still focused directly on you. “I try my best, sweetheart.”

   “You don’t even have to. You just are. Just like that first night I saw you sitting there across the room. Your eyes seemed so… kind.”

   Everything seems to quiet down for a moment, only the sound of your heart, the slow motion of the tires hitting the wet pavement, the thick tension coursing through the air, and Joel’s clear brown eyes that are smothering your insides. They speak louder than tidal waves, those deep brown irises. And right now, they’re making your heart clench in your chest.

   He clears his throat and then the tension dissipates. “So, how ‘bout that ice cream?” He wraps his large palm around the steering wheel and smiles over, making you mirror one right back to him.

   “I’d love some ice cream.”

   “Attagirl. Let’s go get you sugared up, then.” As he pulls out of the shopping center and drives down the smooth road, you giggle silently and watch the trickles of raindrops drip down the side of the passenger window. 

   “Have you ever tried espresso ice cream?” you ask, shifting your weight so you can see the question roll over his brown eyes.

   “As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

   “I think you’d like it,” you chirp.

   He turns his head and looks at you, pulling his lips into a smirk. “Reckon I would. That what you recommend?”

   “Mhm,” you hum. “Since you like coffee so much, might be your new favorite flavor.”

   He huffs out a laugh. “Well, looks like that’s what I’m gonna have to get. Let’s see what other recommendations you have for me.”

   As you lean against the window, you place the back of your hand over your mouth to cover the blush that's building in your cheeks. Who knew this is where you’d be in the middle of Wednesday afternoon this time of year? In a truck, wearing Joel’s flannel, getting ice cream, being free of your captors… And all you can smell is the fresh woodsy scent of him surrounding you.

Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra

@whxtedreams @sawymredfox @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @bitchytimetravelqueen

@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@christinamadsen @aurorawritestoescape @evolnoomym @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn

@inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @fandomdaydreamer @elliaze

@callmecath1 @kulekehe @yorkshirewench @untamedheart81

@tateypots @stylesispunk @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @mellymbee @pascalsbae

@locaparapedrito @ladyofmidlo72 @readingiskeepingmegoing @copperhalfcent @axshadows

@here-briefly @cozylittlepigeon @pastawench @keylimebeag @joelsoftie

@romanarose @captainredspade @megangovier @bishtrouille @almodovarispunk

@papipascaaaal @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @bambisweethearts @puddles221b

@valkyreally @northennlights

[stvrnioloslvt]

stripes and polo's - Matt Sturniolo

genre: fluff / t.w: none

—★—

"i don't know what to wear..." you sigh throwing your phone on the bed, your friend on speaker.

"well, why don't you take something from matt's wardrobe? you only need a shirt anyway." you look around matt's room, checking to see if he has any spare shirts on the loose. however, it seemed that he had cleaned the whole room that morning, leaving it spotless and tidy.

"i can't exactly ask him, he's streaming with chris"

"and? just take one now and tell him later. i'm sure he won't mind, he has a thing for you in his clothes"

"that's not true," you mumbled, a rosy blush tinting your cheeks. you knew that your friend wasn't wrong, but it felt so wrong admitting that your childhood best friend had some sort of interest in you...and you did too.

"yeah yeah, if that helps you sleep at night..."

you ignore her remarks, digging through matt's clothes until you found something that caught your eyes: in the middle of black t-shirts, grey sweaters and an overall basic wardrobe, there was a striped polo hidden at the back of the drawer. you pulled it out, turning it around to check for any holes or stains.

"i think i found something," you announced to your friend, putting the polo on. it didn't fit you perfectly, as it was bigger than your shirts, but you didn't mind at all. you rose your hands to your face, smelling matt's familiar scent on the shirt, relishing in the comfort of one of your favourite people.

"i'm hanging up, i'll go tell him that i took his shirt. meet you up in ten minutes, yeah?"

"sure thing, love. see you in ten," and just like that, your friend had hung up.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair with your hands. you took your phone from the bed and exited matt's room, walking up the stairs to chris's room. as you got closer, you heard loud and clear the two boys screaming at each other, laughing at something stupid chris said.

your hand grabbed the knob, pulling it and entering the room just as chris started addressing the chat again. "chat, matt's type is the who would pull off man's polo's, i'm telling you." his wholehearted laugh died as soon as you came into view, his face falling into one of pure surprise. he mirrored matt's expression, eyes wide and open mouths as you made sure that you weren't completely visible for the viewers. a little bit of the polo's sleeve was in view, enough to make the chat explode with comments.

you blushed as you realised how terribly timed your appearance was, and how badly matt's reaction had affected you. he eyed you up and down, slowly, taking in each by each of your body, mindlessly reaching out to you, pulling you closer. your heart drummed harshly against your ribcage, trying to escape its home.

"matt-" you called out anxiously, trying to pull him out of his mind, reminding him that there were thousands of viewers who were waiting for his next move, observing like hawks looking for their next prey.

"you look...good," he breathed out, smiling softly at you. behind him, chris was frantically trying to cover up the scene that was unfolding in front of everybody's eyes.

"thank you," you whispered, "do you mind if i borrow this one for the evening? i'm meeting up with a friend of mine."

"go on, sweetheart, it's all yours."

you smiled, turning to leave the room. just as you were exiting, chris read one of the comments: "someone wrote 《matt should teach us how to manifest quickly, cause that shit was crazy》 and i couldn't agree more."

"what are you talking about, that's my best friend..." but even as he tried to hide his blush, it was clear that behind his hand there was a big smile plastered on his face.

who knew, maybe in the future things would change.

©stvrnioloslvt

hello everybody! hope you liked it, let me know if you'd like a part 2. also, would y'all like a tag list?

remember that my asks/requests are always open, i'd love to get to know you guys!

thank you.

love you all,

-bree♥︎

[clos-posts]

Okay so, hear me out:

I've been on a bit of a Merlin fanfic hyperfocuse and came across another "I'm Emrys" where Merlin has to perform magic for Arthur to believe him, in front of the entire round table council, and I had a thought.

So, we all know that Merlin is magic itself, spells that seemed powerful to other sorcerers are not that powerful to Merlin and my hc is that these spells barely make his eyes turn gold, like maybe a flicker so fast the average person will miss it.

So I imagine Merlin saying he's Emrys and Arthur being all 'well then prove it' and Merlin makes a fireball (cliche I know but bear with me). Now Arthur has seen this spell and though he has a merger knowledge of magic, knows that it's quite a powerful spell and that most sorcerers eyes are practically a blinding gold, but Merlins eyes don't change. That and Merlin doesn't even speak and therefore didn't cast a spell.

Arthur, thinking that some other sorcerer helped Merlin with his self-sacrificing, kind-hearted, not wanting anyone to die personality, appear as if Merlin is this 'Emrys' and in a patience but patronizing tone tells Merlin that's is honorable to try and protect this Emrys, but his eyes didn't even change colour and therefore can not be a sorcerer.

Merlin, in a very Merlin way, huffs and proceeds to say something like 'Well duh, that was a very simple spell. Doesn't even require that much magic to perform' and the entire room goes silent.

(meanwhile Guise blood pressure has skyrocketed and is on the verge of either killing Merlin himself or having a heart attack. He hasn't decided yet.)

Arthur, absolutely baffled (and a little turn on at the casual display of apparently immense power), asks: 'What will make your eyes gold then? If you even are a sorcerer?'

Merlin, never one to back down from a challenge and already too deep into this, shrugs and says 'We would need to be outside'

And that's how the whole council ends up on the training grounds opposite Merlin waiting in anticipation as to what he will do.

There's silence so thick that no one dares break until Merlin starts to chant. At first nothing happens and Arthur is relieved (and a little disappointed), but then clouds start to gather, think dark clouds above them, and Merlin starts to get louder. Thunder claps across the sky and there electricity in the air making Arthur's hair stand on end and a shiver works its way down his spine. He looks at Merlin and though it's subtle at first, his eyes are glowing gold.

The tension builds and builds and with one final shout from Merlin, his eyes, a brilliant gold, as lightning falls all around him, clashing to the ground destroying the train field in its wake.

Arthur can do nothing but stare. Breath caught, heart hammer, and a sudden hot arousal catching him off guard. He can do nothing but stare at Merlin, his loyal manservant, standing amidst the lighting with his head thrown back and a look of contentment on his face, as if performing magic of this magnitude is comfortable, relaxing, an everyday occurrence.

When Merlins eyes meet Arthur's, there's a, small, sad smile on his lips, and then quicker then it had started the lightning stops and the clouds disappear, and the only thing that can be heard is the birds beginning to sing again.

Arthur can't think of anything to say and stupidly say 'you destroyed the training grounds'. Merlin at this point blushes, stammers out an apology before waving his hand with a few muttered words and the training field is in perfect condition once again.

Arthur and the entire council are baffled.

Then, before anyone could say anything, Arthur blurts out a command for Merlin to go to Arthur's chambers and he does. Without question. Just a shrug, and walks off. Arthur is wheeling. This powerful sorcerer, who just showed them a feat that no mortal man will ever replicate just listens to his command with nothing but a shrug!

Anyway, once Arthur has calmed the council somewhat he makes his way to his chambers. Once he enters Merlin is speaking so fast it's hard to keep up, something about coins, destiny and then shockingly how Arthur is the only person that can kill him if he uses Excalibur. What. The. Fuck.

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin!! Why would I kill you?!?

Merlin: Well, I mean, umm, I'm a sorcerer? Emery's? The strongest warlock to ever walk the Earth?

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin. However! If you do not take me to bed and absolutely ravish me in the next 10 minutes, I may have to resort to drastic measures!

Merlin, absolutely gobsmacked, face red: Wh- what measures..?

Arthur, absolutely confident, turned on beyond belief, practically gagging for it: I'll start begging.

And before he knows it Merlin pounces, and the rest is history.

That was not meant to be as long as it was... 😂

BUT!! If someone who writes fics could take this and write a fully fleshed version on this and then tag me in it I would be forever grateful. ADHD and dyslexia does not make a good writer for me unfortunately 🥲🥲🥲

OH! One last thing! I have a hc that cold iron had a natural negative field which repels energy which is why those that have learned magic have it cut off when chained in cold iron. They can't draw upon their magic from the energy around them. However, with Merlin being magic it's a little different for him.

So, I had this image of a knight, without prompting thinking he's doing what the king would want, walks up to Merlin at some point during his light show and slaps cold iron shackles on him. But, instead of the magic stopping, Merlins eyes grow brighter and bright, and the shackles start to shake and groan, because whilst cold iron does repel energy, it's a little hard to do that from both sides and can't take the pressure. At some point the shackles start to glow as the negative properties of the iron are being overwhelmed and forced into itself. Merlin looks down, looks back at the now terrified knight and says: You should probably duck. And no soon has the knight hit the ground the shackles explode, for lack of a better word. No harm done to Merlin tho.

[angelofwintersky]

snowy night - oneshot

summary: satoru and you are about to go home after your unsuccessful first date, but the car breaks down, making you stay there on a winter night, with no heat and angry glances.

tags: gojo x reader, fluff, winter fic

warnings: none, just swearing

word count: 1.7K

awkward, painful silence sat in the car as you and gojo were driving home from the unsuccessful date you two just had. outside the snow wasn't just gently falling, but pouring from the sky, clouding the windows too, the sun was setting on the horizon, pinkish light illuminating the landscape before you.

your arms were crossed, your gaze looking through the window with slightly narrowed eyes as you try to ignore the white-haired boy sitting next to you with the wheel in his hands and pout on his lips.

you barely even remembered what exactly started the arguement between you two, but you were certain that it was his fault and without an apology, the date shouldn't continue. him acting like the annoying, stubborn person he is, just continued the bickering further, not thinking it would really end the whole date.

well it did.

"going on a date together was a stupid idea to begin with" you think with a quiet huff as your grip on your coat tightens.

all your friends were nagging you to go on a date already, shoko stating that she could see the 'chemistry' between you. well it seems like she's blind, because even when you all are spending time together, you and gojo just cannot get along. never.

could he make you ever smile? yeah that happened sometimes. did you notice that sometime's he's acting like he wants to catch speifically your attention? of course you did. did some of your conversations live rent-free in your head? perhaps.

but.

does that mean that you have to go on a whole ass date just to continue the endless cycle of pushing eachothers buttons? absolutely not.

"are you thinking about how you want to apologise?" he looked at you from the corner off his eye, a suppressed smile tugging on his lips.

"are you?" you glare back. "because if one should apologise that is you and you only."

he just looked back at the road, not ready to admit defeat, but deep down knowing that maybe he shouldn't have tried to make you jealous. at least not on the first date.

"i have nothing to apologise for" he then answered with a shrug, immediately regretting the descision. why was it so hard to just apologise to you? he didn't understand.

"nothing?" you scoff. "you know-"

before you could continue on with your scolding, a loud, sudden sound comes from the front of the car, making you jump a little. the vehicle started to slow down on the snowy road until it eventually stopped, gojo pulling in over just in time.

"what happened?" you glance at him as he's trying to start the engine again, without any success whatsoever.

"no idea" comes the not so helpful answer before gojo opens his door, getting out of the car. "stay inside."

you watch him open the car hood, looking into the car. you follow him, standing next to him in the ankle-deep snow and staring at the vehicle. you place your hands on your hips and lean forward in the hope of seeing something.

"what are we looking at?" you ask.

"i told you to stay inside, it's cold here" he says grumpily, not answering your question.

"oh, so you're suddenly now worried? or just missing that waitress?" you say with a scoff which makes him grin a little.

"so you did become jealous! i knew it!"

"i did not. now stay silent and fix the car, make yourself useful!"

he hums, looking into the vehicle like he is concentrating on something, then back at you.

"i have no idea how this works" he says.

"are you telling me that we're stuck here?" you say every word slowly, frustration penting up in you.

"exactly!" a big smile spreads on his lips. "don't worry, i already told shoko to come and get us."

you narrow your eyes a little bit. the wind was blowing hard, your hair blowing in your face, you felt like you're about to become a snowman if you stand there for more than two minutes.

"then why are we even standing here gojo??"

a dramatic gasp escapes his lips, hand on his heart theatrically.

"c'mon love, not the last name!! did this date mean nothing to you?" he whines.

"you didn't answer my question!" i cross my arms, looking around. we really are in the middle of nowhere. not even street lights were around, it was starting to get dark.

"it's adorable to watch as your cheeks turn red from the cold" he finally answers, not surprising you the least.

"i can't help but feel like you're still trying so hard!"

"and the problem with that...?" his smirk widened, making you a little angrier. if he could've just apologised for flirting with the waitress, you two would be in a so so much better situation, but no that's where he draws the line!

you just leave him there before he could say anything, you get back into the car on the backseat, shivering as you already feel the temperature of the car lower drastically, windows becoming somewhat icy, the seats feeling hard and cold too.

you look around for any blankets but get interrupted by the white haired annoyance, dropping himself on the seat next to you.

a sigh of frustration leaves your lips, crossing your arms as an attempt to warm yourself up while staring outside through the window once again.

the car was pulled over in a quite pretty area, a forest covered in soft snow, the lonely branches of the trees holding the weight quietly, a few crows sitting on them before all of them opens their wings, flying away and only leaving two behind. the restaurant he brought you to was higher on the mountain, making the landscape from there even more beautiful.

of course he had to fuck it up.

the moments were slow, every second lasting decades as you two sat in silence, cold running on your body, the shivering was now undeniable.

you glanced at him, he didn't make any effort to warm himself up, he even took off his coat. suddenly unwanted thoughts started to invade your mind, talking about how warm his body must be.

"aren't you cold?" you ask after a few minutes.

gojo's blue eyes meet yours, at first, for a teeny tiny second he seems like he'll smile but then just pouted instead, his hands fiddling with his clothes. if he just held your hand in his, that would probably make the cold more bearable.

"why? you worried?"

you huff, turning your head away again. you knew that your worry was exactly what he wanted at that moment.

"you're just crazy" you answer, expecting the conversation to continue but he doesn't say another thing.

you look at him again, but as soon as you do, he wraps his black coat around you, trapping you with it and pulling you into his arms, your head against his chest, a small yelp leaving your lips.

his body felt warm, but yours started to feel a little bit warmer somehow. the stiffness leaves you seconds later, even though you try not to melt into the hug too much.

his arms were holding you close, his head rested on top of yours, his heartbeats seemed to speed up even if just a little bit.

"gojo-"

"don't even start a sentence like that" he interrupts you with an almost childish frown on his face.

"you have three seconds to say that before i push you away and drag you into that forest." your voice is threatening but somehow he still managed to hear the smile in your tone that you tried to hide with every fiber of your body.

"c'mon, don't be cruel!" gojo whined, glancing down at you.

"two..."

his grip around you slightly tightened as if he was afraid that you'd really pull away.

"one-"

"fine, i love you!!" he said as fast as he could, his gaze turned away.

your breath hitches, eyes widen at the sudden confession, you feel like you've been slapped in the face, in the best way possible.

"you what?" you ask, trying to steady your voice.

at least being cold definetly wasn't your number one problem anymore.

"isn't that what you wanted to hear??" he questions dramatically, raising his voice a little.

"i wanted a fucking apology!" disbelief in your voice as you match his tone.

a few moments of silence comes as he is just staring at you, blinking slowly. you had to admit he looked quite adorable like this, big blue eyes looking at you, a small blush creeping on his cheeks.

"oh!"

you can't help but chuckle at his reaction, a grin appearing on your face.

"so you love me?"

"and if i do?" he huffs.

"then, satoru" you start out, already seeing his expression light up when you finally say his first name. he just loved how it left your lips so effortlessly yet with so much kindness. "you're extremely lucky because i may be feeling the same way."

"i knew it!" he says smugly, trying to forget that he ever questioned it. of course you love him. "from day one."

you raise one eyebrow, glancing up at him once again.

"day one i wanted to strangle you."

he pouts again.

"and now?"

"i still want to strangle you" you say. "but now with a little affection."

he chuckles, pulling you so close that you're basically sitting on his lap at this point. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, his hair in his face, arms around your body as he is still trying to warm you up.

big snowflakes started to fall from the sky, the storm quieting down. all you could feel was his body hugging yours warmly, his scent filling your mind, fogging your rational thoughts as you melt into his embrace.

time slowed down but you couldn't been happier.

"say it" he mumbled eventually.

you sigh, eyes closing while a smile is spreading on your lips.

"i love you too."

after those words, you slowly start to feel like your eyelids are becoming heavier, all the adrenaline from the frustration leaving your body. your breathing becomes relaxed and before you drift into sleep, you have to admit, maybe shoko was right about this whole thing after all. maybe it could work out.

haii!! i hope you had a good time reading this, it's the first fanfic i've ever written so sorry if it's not that good! also, english is not my first language so if i made a mistake feel free to correct me (^-^)

[redrose10]

This was a request for fake dating with Jungkook and prompt #40 I think I have always been in love with you for @yoongznme. I hope you like it!

< Lemonade >

Warnings: Hints of body insecurities

#40 “I think, I have always been in love with you.”

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

“I’m sorry what?”, you asked them to repeat themselves for the third time still not believing what you were hearing. When your boss asked to have a word with you about a promotion you thought it would include a few extra responsibilities and hopefully a much needed raise because being a makeup artist for an award winning kpop group did not really pay as well as you’d think.

You never expected to be told that you would be pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend though. It was some crazy plan that the company’s PR team came up with after he had recently gotten some bad press over something dumb and out of his control but at the end of the day it was still bad press effecting numbers which effected profit.

They thought that it would be a good idea to make it look like he was a loving, sweet, devoted boyfriend who could do no wrong. Somehow or another your name got thrown in the mix because you yourself were nice, polite, and you had this kind of the good girl next door thing that they were looking for.

You were nervous to say the least. Jungkook was attractive, no one would deny that. He was also always very kind and thoughtful when you interacted and you definitely had a small crush on him but you were a professional and knew not to let your emotions get in the way of your work plus there’s no way a global superstar would ever actually want to date a struggling makeup artist.

However you agreed, though you had the suspicion you really didn’t have a choice anyways if you wanted to stay employed, and they told you to be back at the building tomorrow night at 8pm.

So you did just that. You were in the dress one of the stylist left for you and you’d done your makeup and hair. Jungkook was styled perfectly as usual and he smelled so warm and comforting as he gave you a hug, “You look really nice Y/N.”

“Thank you.”, you whispered hoping he couldn’t see you blush.

The plan was to drive over to a very well known hotspot for dinner. Idols frequented the place constantly so there was also a stream of paparazzi and fans trying to catch a glimpse.

When you arrived the amount of people shocked you. As soon as Jungkook appeared there were earth shattering screams and so many flashes of light you couldn’t see a foot in front of you.

“Y/N, just stay close behind me.”, he said taking your hand and helping you out of the car while making sure to block the view of the cameras so you could get out comfortably in your dress.

Once you were in view the screams got even louder although maybe angrier. The camera flashes definitely increased though giving you a headache. The bodyguards began to push through the crowd with Jungkook close behind, his hand tightly gripping yours as you tried to keep up.

Inside, the restaurant was significantly calmer which you appreciated. Jungkook sipped on his beer while you stuck to a lemonade.

“I’m sorry the company is making you go through this.”, he said finally after a bout of silence.

“It’s okay. They’re paying me quite a bit so it’s worth it.”, you chuckled not noticing the slight grimace on his face.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Jungkook was a great guest and you relaxed enjoyed hearing about his travels and all the funny stories he had, especially the one about Yoongi tripping and falling face first into a cake that Namjoon had decided to leave sitting on the living room floor for some strange reason. He showed you a picture of Yoongi’s face covered in frosting and you couldn’t wait to tease him about it when you saw him next.

After dinner the crowd outside had died down a little bit was still enough that you had to put on an act. Jungkook pulled you close against him as he took you outside and right into the waiting vehicle where he continued to hold you against him even as the car sped off. It sent a wave of emotions through you so you made sure to create a little bit of space between you both just to remind yourself that none of this was real.

It looked like the plan was working perfectly because the next morning there were several headlines questioning who was the cute woman Jungkook was photographed with last night. The fans were also loosing their minds over it, posting over and over about speculations and rumors. You did your best to try and avoid most of them because while a good chunk were generally in favor of the relationship there were still many, mostly fans, that were not happy about Jungkook possibly being in a relationship. This resulted in you seeing some hurtful words about yourself m before deciding to log out of all of your social medias.

The next several weeks were filled with much of the same. Various stages photo ops took place so that fans and photographers could catch moments between you both. When the rumors finally started to become out of hand the company released an official statement confirming the relationship between Jungkook and you, a sweet, down to earth makeup artist that he had fallen madly in love with. The media and fans lost their minds.

You went into this whole thing thinking it would be easy. You were getting a big payday to basically hangout with Jungkook and let your photo get taken. You didn’t expect for your crush to grow into being full on in love with him but it was hard not to fall. He was so incredibly thoughtful and sweet. He was always ordering you lunch or bringing you a coffee even when the cameras weren’t around. When your cat needed an unexpected emergency surgery he paid for it in full after overhearing you cry to one of your friends about how you couldn’t afford it. He was always telling you how pretty you looked or complimenting your clothes with a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. When you were visiting a friend and missed the last bus and you called him as a last resort hoping he could ask the company to send a car he drove over an hour at 2am to personally pick you up himself while staying on the phone with you the whole time so that you wouldn’t be scared.

After a few months of this it was getting harder and harder to remind yourself this wasn’t real.

Up until this point things were going great. Your relationship was doing exactly what the PR team had hoped. People pretty much completely forgot about his previous scandal and were focused on how he was a sweet and generous boyfriend. His image had never been better.

Then there was an incident. Jungkook was very protective always keeping you close to him. Even when the bodyguards reminded him that they were there for your protection as well he still insisted on personally seeing to your safety.

So one morning you were set to board a flight to New York. Of course the entrance to the air port was packed full of paparazzi and fans all screaming and trying to get photos and videos of you two. The airport had put up barriers but with the amount of people all pushing and shoving some of the barriers got knocked down allowing the crowd to surge in.

Security did their best to surround you guys and get you through the crowd but they were greatly outnumbered.

Thanks to the loud noises and flashing lights and amount of people surrounding you it all became too much and you began to panic. You held onto Jungkook, squeezing his hand that was interlocked with yours to try and ground yourself and remind yourself that you were okay.

“It’s okay Y/N. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this.”, he said trying to comfort you.

The crowd surged forward again. Thanks to your blurry vision and panic you aren’t sure exactly what happened but somehow you tripped ending up on the floor. You were trying to get up fast before you got trampled on but you kept getting pushed and shoved down until you felt someone grab your waist and pull you up. Instantly you recognized the familiar cologne and tucked your face into Jungkook’s shoulder as he quickly pulled you through the rest of the airport.

On the plane where it was quiet and safe you started full on crying. You felt so silly but you couldn’t hold it in any more.The fear and anxiety became too much.

Jungkook came over handing you a bottle of water and some ice for your bruised knee. He rubbed soothing circles on your back as the plane took off, “It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”, you whispered starting to feel a little better.

After a while you managed to fall asleep and take a small nap. When you woke up Jungkook was still sitting next to you. He was staring intently at your face.

“Stop looking at me. I’m always so ugly when I wake up.”, you chuckled feeling much better than earlier.

“Impossible. You are never ugly Y/N.”, he whispered.

He was fidgeting with his shoe lace. Something you had picked up on being a nervous habit of his.

“Hey Kook, is there something on your mind?”, you asked.

He waited a moment before nodding, “When we get back from New York I’m going to tell the company that we need to end this fake dating thing. I can’t do it any more.”

You felt like you wanted to cry again but you swallowed it down because maybe he thought you were too weak or why would he want to be with the girl who tripped an embarrassed herself and himself, “O-Okay. It’s up to you.”

“I just…I’m so selfish”, he chuckled, “I’m not going to keep putting you in danger though. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N, especially if it was my fault. What happened back at the airport…that was a wake up call. I’m sorry I ever suggested this.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion., “What do you mean you suggested this?” You were under the impression this was all the companys PR team but now it seems like he had a part of it.

His cheeks turned a bright red before he ran a hand through his already messy hair, “Well I guess I might as well come clean now.”, he turned his body to look at you fully, “Y/N when the company suggested this fake dating thing I was against it at first. But then…then I thought maybe I could use it as an excuse to spend more time with you. I’ve always thought you were really cute and sweet and kind and I had a bit of a crush on you. So I convinced them to get you to be the woman I fake dated. I was too shy to ask you to hang out so I thought it was a way to spend time with you and get to know you better.”, he made eye contact with you for a brief moment and you could see the fear in them. He continued, “I think I have always been in love with you. I love you more and more every day.”, your heart was practically beating out of your chest at his confession. You tried to stop him but he continued, “And that’s why we have to end this. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. You don’t deserve this.”

He looked as if he was about to cry and it made you want to just cuddle him and make everything go away. Instead you chose to grab his hand and hold it on your lap, “Jungkook I love you too. I have for quite a while. Honestly, I didn’t think you would ever see me like that so I thought this was all your company’s idea.”, his shoulders seemed to relax a little at your words so you went on, “I know that dating you comes with lots of hardships but I think the positives greatly outweigh those negatives and I don’t mind going through them. If…if you want to I would like to continue to date you, but maybe actually date and not fake date anymore.”, you chuckled.

That got a big smile out of him too which warmed your heart. “I would love to keep dating you Y/N.”, he nodded. You cuddled in closer to him spending the rest of the flight talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s presence.

When the plane landed he had already arranged for a car to pick you up straight from the tarmac so that you wouldn’t have to endure the stress of walking through the airport with him again.

When he finally made it out front and jumped into the car he smiled at seeing your face, “I missed you Y/N.”, he then leaned in and kissed you like it was nothing new. “You already got into the lemonade didn’t you.”, he chuckled after tasting it on your lips.

“Kook we were only separated for like ten minutes and of course I did. You know lemonade is my favorite.”, you giggled.

He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, “Doesn’t matter. It was ten minutes too long.”

You gave the top of his head a kiss as the car sped off to your new destination.

[muffinsin]

i just read this post

https://www.tumblr.com/muffinsin/739024633405308928/anon-here-my-fav-is-bela-though-i-totally-get

about gp! dimi sisters giving reader just the tip and i loved it!!! so if it’s okay and if not already done, could you do one for donna if you write gp for her?

i love all your stuff btw!

Absolutely, hon!🙇‍♀️ Some more Donna in our lives never hurts XP! Other parts here

Let’s get into it!🙌

Masterlists

With a flushed face and a racing heart you look up at her, finding her dark eye at last. She’s hovering just mere inches above you, her breasts pushing down against you, her eye set on you, her thighs brushing against you and her cock- no, only her tip- pushed into you.

You squirm, helpless to do anything else due to the ribbons tying your wrists together. Already, you regret your actions, wishing you had been good instead. Now, you pay the price, all your pleads and whimpers falling onto deaf ears. You want- no, need her. Need all of her.

Alas, your punishment for today is obvious, clear as day to you, and so bittersweet.

You whine, your eyes wide. “Please, my love”, you plead.

“Please, just a little more, my love! I’ll be good now! Just…just a little more, a little…a little more!”, you whine, squirming to try and get her deeper inside. Stopping this abruptly, you gasp when she grabs your hips, her grip strong, her strong, skilled fingers pressing into your flesh.

“Now, Tesoro, I thought you said you’d be good this morning already…”, she coos, her voice low and seductive, enough to make your head spin.

Using her free hand she reaches down, and you can only whine as she begins to jerk herself off, thrusting her hand and occasionally sliding her fingers across her balls. And still, it’s only her tip that she grants you.

Feeling utterly edged and sensitive, you cry and squirm, little pleas slipping from your lips like water from a waterfall.

“Please, my love!”

“I’m sorry, Fiore!”

“Please, just a little bit! Just halfway in, my love!”

“I’ve learned my lesson!”, you insist, flushing when she laughs lowly and merely jerks herself off a little faster.

“Oh…tesoro, mi fai divertire”

You begin to feel more and more flustered, your body held down and in place, your arms restrained, her tip just barely inside of you. Still, you feel precum drool from her, feel how warm and wet she is. You drool, thinking of how she could just push herself inside fully at any time.

Alas, she isn’t, she doesn’t, and she won’t. Not until she feels you have learned your lesson. And you know, Donna is unfortunately, at least in this instance, very, very patient.

You gasp when she leans down, her tongue trailing along your neck, her hair tickling your skin gently.

“I have told you what would happen when you don’t behave, Tesoro”, she whispers, scolding playfully. Yes, she has. Punishment- but she never clarified it would be this, this..this agony! You can only squirm and try to roll your hips to no avail. You’re sure, you could cum instantly if she just pushed herself inside already!

“This isn’t…fair!”, you whine, feeling so terribly needy. Before this, you thought edging was the worst thing she could do, or denying you an orgasm all together. This is worse: this way, you don’t even feel her inside properly, can barely feel her head push and pulse inside of you, drooling precum inside.

She chuckles, the sound low and breathless, a sign she’s getting closer to an orgasm, too.

“Would you like me to pull out entirely, love?”, she asks, then, her voice a little lighter. Oh, she’s teasing you, and you’re helpless in the face of her dominance. You quickly shake your head, begging her not to. You don’t know why, but you just can’t bear to lose the tip, too, you desperately need more of her.

“Please…my love…I need it…!”, you plead instead, trying a different approach.

You gasp when her hand trails up to your neck, then, whereas the other works faster between her own legs, pulling moans and grunts from her.

“Then tell me how bad you need it, my doll”, she coos, arousal pooling in her dark eye.

Oh, and you do.

You moan, you plead, you whine and whimper all about just how bad you want it, how bad you need it.

You squirm and cry out for her, spread your legs, so utterly eager to accept more of her inside. But Donna, teasing as she is, merely continues jerking herself off for a painful while longer.

A little more, a little more.

More moans and grunts come from her that have your body heat up and tingle in anticipation.

You want it.

You need it.

And then,

you get it.

When she pushes herself inside, only to cum, it’s almost beautifully overwhelming. You moan and shriek, crying out for her, rolling your hips, eager to receive all of her. She fills you perfectly, paints your insides white and slick.

And then, just before you get your pleasure, you feel her pull out to the tip again.

“Beg again, little one”

[the-moons-tears]

Scaramouche x reader (Spiderman au)

GUYS GUYS SPIDER-MAN SCARA BRAINROT EIFJEJDCKKEFM gods i CANT

Hot emo spider boy grrr

Not very spicy (a bit at the end) this is pretty much just a plot that I enjoyed writing about

Preview:

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind."

Blues, greens, whites, and reds zoomed by the eye coverings on your mask. Noises from the city and its traffic flared up in your ears and ended as soon as they came. The sharp wind whipping your hair around, and the feeling of your suit moving with your body made you feel alive.

Your hands moved methodically in a pull up, release, and shoot cycle. The strong webbing that was naturally formed in your body shot out through a tiny slit in your wrist, and the cut in your suit fabric made it easy to shoot out of.

The ground seemed so far away every time you launched yourself up into the night air, but became almost touchable when you let gravity take you back down. Your lungs took in large amounts of air and released heavily through the mask fabric.

When you arrived at a certain large skyscraper, you began your ascent. The webbing that flew out hit the glass panels which you used to propel you upwards. The noises from the city below grew quieter as you neared the top roof with the internet tower sitting in the middle.

Your hand grasped the edge of the building and used your upward force to swing over the ledge onto the roof surface. Standing upright, the wind hit you and blew your hair away from your face showing you the view that you never got tired of. The city looked so small from there. Leaning over where you just came from, this was definitely the tallest building in your city.

Planes overhead made their presence known by the blinking lights that were flashing from their bodies. Above them lay the stars, although you couldn't see them because of the light pollution. The silence, even though so many things were happening, was always strange. It just showed how high up you were. The wind was your only company with its occasional howl coming from any direction.

Although, your solitude didn't last long. A cold sensation ran down your spine and an instinctual alert inside your mind told you something was coming. A figure, black as the night above came so fast at you, you didn't have time to react.

In a tangle of arms and at the speed of the impact, you and the figure crashed into the part of the roof that led to stairs to the floors below. A loud grunt came from the figure beside you when their head hit the wall.

Your own body had slammed into the stone pretty hard. Obviously it was much worse for you since the impact sent you into the wall first. A strangled gasp for air escaped your lungs after it had been knocked out and you fell to your side with your vision spinning. Rough hands turned you over, ripped off your mask from your face, and grabbed you over your mouth. The other hand held your shoulder to the ground.

Above you, the figure, who you figured was a male, was breathing hard. The hand over your mouth gripped hard, and your attempts to speak failed. In your panic, you shot webbing onto his face with your free hand and kicked him back once you got a leg up from underneath him.

Immediately once you had enough free space, you made a dash for the edge so you could jump off. Alarms went off in your mind again, making you duck in time to see a web shooting overhead at what would have been your neck. The next one, however, you couldn't dodge in time.

White webbing caught your ribs and pulled you to the man again. Before you could blink, you were wrapped in web that was holding you in all directions. You couldn't move, and your mask that protected your identity lay away from you on the ground. When you finally were still, you could see clearly who he was.

Short violet hair moved in the wind revealing a black mask with purple and blue iridescent web looking designs interlacing it. The body suit also had the same design. The person's mask ended at their hairline, letting the bangs that were there fall over it. Everyone had seen him, he was quite famous although no one knew his real identity. The savior of teyvat city, spiderman.

He ran a hand through his hair rubbing the spot that hit the wall and let out a long sigh. "I really wanted an easy night tonight..." the man ran his hands down his face and walked toward you. Without gentleness, he grabbed you face again and tilted it how he pleased.

"What the hell-do you always treat people this way?"

"Well most people I come across that have any sort of power aren't exactly wishing the city a merry Christmas."

Fair. From what you had seen, every time he made an appearance was when a supernatural threat was in the city, like that one battle with a giant lizard you saw on YouTube. You'd seen what he was capable of, and that he probably didn't have any intention other than protecting the city, so you decided to be compliant.

For a bit, he was silent. He brought a hand up that had your webbing that was on his face on it, and his silver eyes on his mask narrowed.

"I watched you swing up here from a distance before attacking you. You shot this from your wrist."

"Yeah, I'm guessing you want a backstory?"

"Normally I wouldn't care, but your web is the same make as mine. It's not coincidental." He then waved his hand for you to speak.

You simplified the story as needed in your head, and begin to tell about your spider experience.

...

You were in college enjoying your student life when it happened. With your university being so close to ILDOTTORE Inc., a lot of students came to study in the sciences, you being one of them.

In one of your leisurely afternoons at the campus park, you were sitting on a bench just looking at the wind blow through the trees when you felt a sharp pain on your hand. The pain continued to spike when you pulled your hand up and shook it. Looking at your palm, sitting there was an iridescent spider that had its fangs lodged in your skin.

It looked abnormal for sure. Its eyes were bigger and it's legs were longer. A strange symbol was marked on its back, almost like an experimental number you would put on test subjects. Without a thought you immediately slapped the spider.

When it didn't come off the first hit, you took off your shoe and pressed it to your hand, not caring about the dirt because the bite hurt. When you got the spider off your hand, you relaxed thinking you'd definitely killed it.

Feeling something moving on your thigh, you looked down and jumped from your sitting position with your hand swatting at your thigh. The spider, with one less leg now, was crawling up your leg until you swat it off.

"Oh hell no, die hoe." You took the shoe that was still off and put it quickly back on your foot. As the spider was speeding away, you chased it a couple of steps from the bench and stomped on it like you'd never put your foot on the ground before. After twisting your foot back and forth on the spider, you took your shoe off an examined if it was really dead.

It twitched only once even though it was completely crushed, but that was enough to smush it again until you were only looking at a black smudge on the concrete path.

Ever since that day, you had to stay in your apartment with a sick excuse because of the changes your body was undergoing. The pain was blaring. Your hands would stick to things randomly, and your vision would shift from regular to being able to see through walls. You felt feather light, could move faster, and jump higher.

The strangest parts were the fact that you could shoot webbing from openings in your wrists, and that you would get a strange feeling when something was about to happen. Your reaction time had heightened and your body molded itself into being fitter.

After days of change and determining that the spider gave you those powers, you found ways to control your new abilities. You even made yourself a suit from your webbing. After school days, you would practice in a remote alleyway what all you could do. Swinging around and climbing walls wasn't as hard as you thought. Watching videos of Spider-Man's fights also gave you some tips on how to move well. You were around one month into your new experience before this incident.

...

"So that's where it went...And you made sure 100% that you killed the spider?"

"The only thing left was a blot on the ground. Pretty sure it's dead."

"Great. My two problems have been cut to one."

You wondered if the problem he was referring to was you and the spider. You were correct.

"So can you let me out now?" You wiggled the only movable thing your body, which was your hands. Spider-Man laughed sarcastically and stepped backwards to sit onto the edge of the building. The wind picked up swaying his hair, and his eye pieces on his mask moved in a gleeful expression that you knew had a teasing glint in them.

"Nah, you can get out yourself. You're the same as me right?"

The same? You huffed and looked around you spotting the places his web connected to other structures that held you in place. Angling your hands in the direction of the connection, you shot a web and held on to the end. Your web connected to the place his was stuck on and you pulled with your hand as far away as you could.

His web snapped off, letting one arm loose. From there you broke yourself free from all the webbing. Walking with your back turned to him, you picked your mask up off the ground, moved your hair out of your face, and put it back on.

Suddenly, you felt a web come in contact with your back. Turning around, you saw that spiderman wasn't there anymore. A long web was quickly sliding down off the edge, and you noticed too late that the web was connected to you.

With a scream, you were yanked forward and launched off the building. Looking down, you spotted Spider-Man diving down with the web that held you in one of his hands. When his fall had reached around half of the buildings height, we shot a web from his free hand and began a swing.

"You better shoot a web, I'm gonna let go!" Although most of his words got lost in the wind, you got the message. As soon as you shot a string, the web on your back became loose. You quickly yanked it off your back and swung with your other hand to catch up to him.

You synced up your swing timing to match his, but as soon as you did he changed direction. you caught up to him stopping on a building top where he hung off the side waiting for you.

"You're slow." Indigo hair blew in the wind and his head tilted. His arm hung out in the wind beside him while he held onto the edge with his other.

"Well maybe I would have caught up faster if someone didn't pull me off the tallest building in the city. Secondly, I'm still knew to this whole thing." You landed a bit below him with a web holding you to the building. The man above you laughed and spoke in a haughty tone,

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind." His hand left the edge letting gravity take him. Diving after him, you followed him through narrow alleyways and under highways. It was hard to see him because his suit was so dark, but the iridescent colors on his chest guided you.

You didn't know why you were following him, or better yet why he was indirectly telling you to. Chasing him around in sporadic movements soon became easier. It almost felt like he was training you.

At one point, he disappeared from your vision. Coming to a stop in a dark street where no cars were coming, you looked around. A sharp zing went off in your head, making you turn around in time to see a web come in contact with your face. The mask attached came off and your hand shot up to cover your face.

"Hey! You don't know who's around here, and there may be cameras in this area!" You yelled out in the direction the web came from with your hands over your whole face.

"If you can't block a simple thing like that, and by the way that wasn't even an attack, you're not going to survive fights or the media." A sultry voice spoke near your left ear.

You turned pretending to not be surprised by his sudden closeness. "What are you even talking about-"

"You think you can go back to normal society with these powers? You're already all over the media from swinging around tonight with me."

Spider-Man shoved your mask on your hands that cover yourself and you quickly put the mask back on. When you remove your hands, the first thing you see is a phone screen reading,

Another spider joins Spider-Man? Two swinging figures seen around teyvat city tonight, watch the video footage!

With narrowed 'I'm-not-having-it' eyes, you looked at him behind the phone, "you did this on purpose didn't you."

"The point is, you're now obligated to protecting the city whether you want to or not. It would be better if I trained you so you don't end up wasting your abilities by dying early."

My gods. Everything was happening so fast. Your hand came up to rub your temple through the mask because of the headache that rose.

Your hands went out in a calm down motion. "Ok ok give me a minute. I'm in college and I do have a lot of time, but how am I going to balance these two things? And how on earth are we going to meet up, to quote you, train?"

"Well I make it work with my classes. We can set a schedule for you to meet me at the building we first came in contact."

You mean the place you nearly busted my head open you thought to yourself before you caught an important detail in his words.

"You're in college?" You pause and look at Spider-Man who has his arms crossed. Silence before he spoke,

"No-"

"Oh wow you're younger than everyone thinks. I thought you were like 30 or something."

"Do I sound anything like thirty?" He said aggravated as he shot another web in your face making you take a couple steps back and struggle to get it off.

From that spot, you both worked out a plan to meet up three times a week on the tallest building roof. The first few weeks were rough, and they made you realize how tasking his job was. His training was rigorous, but you caught on fairly well. There were a couple times you went to grab his mask in hand to hand combat, only for you to fail and for him to flick your forehead. You tried making conversation, to which he didn't necessarily ignore you, but he kept his answers short and vague.

"So what major are you in since you won't answer which college you're at?" You poked his shoulder from where you were both sitting on the edge of the building.

"I'm an art student..."

"Actually?" You leaned forward and peered into the eyes on his mask. He nodded and went on staring out at the city. "What kind of medium do you like to use?"

"Charcoal most of the time. Occasional graphite or spray paint."

"I'll have to see some of your work sometime when we're not training. I really enjoy art."

"hmm..."

Over the next few times you two met, Spider-Man would let himself be more carefree with you in your now frequent conversations after training on top of the building. On one of your more tiring training sessions, a thought came into your head. This is merely training, what about real fights. Getting beaten and bruised with the media filming all of it. Was it ever lonely or stressful all by himself?

When you both sat down on the edge, you asked the question.

"It is lonely, being the only one in this position? Saving the city all by yourself?"

"It...was lonely, but now I'm too preoccupied dealing with your annoying ass to be like that."

"Aww, did my 'annoying ass' fill the void in your heart?" You exaggerated the last bit and poked his shoulder.

"Pshh." He pushed your poking hand off of him and tried to shoot a web at you again, but you dodged it. When his hand shot the web, you took the opportunity to try to grab his mask again. It had honestly become a thing to tease him with.

This time however, was different. He just seemed to sit there and let your hand wrap around the edges of his mask, taking it off and exposing his face. His hair whipped around in the wind, the violet bangs brushing his forehead. Long eyelashes and eyes that blinked slowly, almost teasingly so. His irises, like the color on his suit, but with depth and a color you could only describe as mesmerizing. Skin soft and a rosy pair of lips that parted slightly as you took the mask away. You almost reached out to touch him.

"Your eye pieces are wide open, what's the matter~?" His hand extends a bit and closes your slightly open mouth. He doesn't even bother to take the mask back from you, and instead just leans back on the ledge and throws his head back. Adam's apple moving as he swallows slightly.

"Uh-" you cleared your throat and tried looking at him again to speak, but when you did his eyes were locked with yours making your lungs close up.

"Scaramouche."

His voice brought you back. "What? Like Bohemian rhapso-"

"My name dumbass. You can use that instead of Spider-Man. Of course, not in public..."

You took off your own mask and set it beside his that now lay between you both. The wind felt good on your face, you hadn't taken it off in a while up there. There was a silence that hung from that point. You both rested there in your seated positions, and scaramouche could have sworn he heard you try out his name on your tongue.

...

The next month was peaceful. Winter break had begun, so you were able to rest at your apartment and spend more time with scaramouche. He actually started letting you into his life. You learned where he went to college and got to see a lot of his art projects in his own living space, although he kept some of them hidden from you for reasons unknown to you. Of course, you couldn't leave him alone about them and would always be trying to search for them when he wasn't looking.

"Hey, what do you say to getting a drink at- what the hell do you have in your hand?"

You stood there at his sketching desk, with papers that made your eyes wide. On the parchment, were graphite sketches of...you. The way the details on your face were so accurate made you blush furiously. All those times he would just seem to stare at you when your mask was off, was he looking so intently so he could draw you? The answer was right in front of your face.

Gods you were in deep. Not only did you develop feelings for him when you started training, but seeing this made you realize it was probably not one-sided.

Quick footsteps came behind you and a hand reached out to take the papers from you. Turning to him, you were surprised to see scaramouche's face close to yours with glaring eyes and a red that reached his ears.

"Did I not say that you weren't allowed to see those?"

Nothing came out your mouth. Your lips only parted to try and give an apology, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flicked down to your parted mouth. His eyes said so much, but you could see there was a fear in them as well.

...

After that incident, not much was said between you. The very next day you met on the tallest building once more. It was the day that you two would spar, like every other time right?

Wrong. You were both distracted. Every grab on your arm shot electricity through your soul, more than before. The same could be said for him. The distraction caused an accidental blow to the face, which knocked your mask off.

"Ah shit, are you al-" his voice cut short. You were leaning back against the wall behind you that he first encountered you on. Your chest was heaving and visible breath from the temperature came from your mouth. You looked too good to him in that moment, so he let his desires take over.

"Yeah I'm good...it just knocked my mask off-" a strong grip pushed you against the wall.

"Hey what-" Looking up at him, you saw his hand reach up and rip off his mask, his violet hair messily flowing around. He threw it to the floor before grabbing your face and smashing his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively grabbed his suit turtleneck collar and pulled him into you. He wasted no time pushing his tongue past your lips and putting his body flush against yours. Surprised sounds left you as you could barely breath. He was desperate, hungry, and could no longer hold himself back.

The drawings were his only cope to deal with the feelings. Gods he was scared, scared that you would want to end the whole partner thing if you knew. Now all those doubts dissipated when he felt you meld your lips back with his when he tried to part your mouths.

Hands ran down your ribs and to your waist. His fingers were gripping you with need, and his mouth kissed you with abandon. Scaramouche never wanted to take his lips of yours, not after he'd waited so long gazing at you, watching the way you tried to do what he did, and feeling your covered skin when you fought.

Neither of you needed to breathe. You believed you could be sustained solely by each other's lips.

Only after several minutes of pure bliss in each other's mouths did you break apart for much needed air. You gasped and panted, and scaramouche did the same. He rested his head on your shoulder in the aftermath, just feeling your warmth that enveloped him despite the cold winds.

"Want to head to my apartment? We can um...continue there if you also want to-"

"Yes.”

You blushed when his hands wrapped around you and his face turned to kiss your jaw.

"I wonder if the media would like to know that Spider-Man is a romantic."

"Shut up..." He gave a slight laugh and slowly drew away from you. His eyes were clearly glazed over with a need for more, but he'd save it for when you were both warmer in your home. After picking up your masks off the ground, you both quickly made your way to your home where you couldn't stop scaramouche from starting to kiss your nape and skin before you even got into your apartment room.

[nakylvr]

dani x tmasc reader smut?

KILLING MYSELF. just kidding, obviously. thank you anon for requesting this cause i was too nervous to make it myself 😭 i think i got a bit carried away i apologize (not really)🙏

— STAR SHOPPING 🛡️

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, tmasc!reader, dom!reader, sub!dani, strap on, papi kink (sorry not sorry the latino in me came out), degradation, mirror sex

minors dni

it's not often that you get jealous. with the reassuring words dani would give you whenever she could tell you were, it was difficult for you to get jealous to the point you were actually upset. except for today, that was.

"fuck, baby, look at you,"

you have dani on her knees in front of you, her hair in one of your hands to keep her looking at the mirror in front of you with your other hand at the base of the faux cock, sliding it up and down her folds. you occasionally push just the tip in before pulling out again, watching her whimper as you kept doing it.

"yn, please," daniela is already near the point of begging, your teasing for the past twenty minutes having that become her final resort.

"you trying to beg? you can do better than that," you scoff. "if you want it so bad, you should beg a lot more."

a curse leaves dani's mouth under her breath at your response, looking at you through the mirror and seeing the look on your face that has her knowing you're serious. "please, yn, i need you so bad. please fuck me, papi," she knows exactly what she's doing by calling you that, it was one of the easiest ways to get what she wanted. and judging by the way your eyes changed the second it left her mouth, it worked.

without saying a word, you swiftly push all the way inside her, the wetness of her making it easy for you to slide in and instantly build a rough pace. a surprised gasp leaves her mouth at your sudden actions, her head falling down until you yank on her hair to have her look in the mirror again. "uh-uh," you shake your head. "you're gonna watch me fuck you like the slut you are, and you're gonna fuckin' enjoy it, understand? keep your eyes open," you hiss.

the second you start roughly fucking her, loud moans begin coming from dani as she tries to nod her head to your words. "ye-yes,"

"yes, who?" you pry, pulling on her hair again eliciting a whine from her.

"yes, papi," she whines. "god, you fuck me so good," she struggles to keep her eyes open and looking in the mirror, the sight of seeing you take her like this having her moans getting needier. "har-harder, fuck, pl-please,"

another scoff leaves your mouth at her plea, rolling your eyes and smacking her ass roughly, eliciting a moan from her as you snap your hips against hers harder. "you're such a fuckin' slut, you know that? begging me to fuck you like this, you did that shit on purpose, didn't you?"

"n-no," dani shakes her head as best as she can. but the way she's pushing herself back onto your cock every time you slam into her says otherwise, which you notice. "i wouldn't- 'm not-" she struggles to form words past her moans that get louder when you yank on her hair again seeing her eyes start to close.

a chuckle leaves your mouth as she struggles to respond, pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and yanking on it. "no? hm, that's funny. considering the way you're basically fucking yourself on my cock like one," your voice is dripping with venom as you speak, smiling at the way her jaw falls open when you hit her g-spot.

"fuck!" she gasps at the feeling of the tip hitting the special spot inside her, her jaw slack as she doesn't even try to contain the noises coming from her. "oh my god, 'm gonna cum!" she whines.

"already?" you're practically grinning at this point as you release your grip on her hair, your hands moving to her waist and pushing down causing her to arch, thrusting deeper inside her. "you wanna cum? fine then, just know that this is just beginning, baby."

the new angle has dani shoving her face into the sheets beneath her as strings of loud moans fall from her lips. "f-fuck, please papi, l-let me cum, please," her whining gets needier the closer she gets to cumming. you don't respond, instead just pounding into her waiting for her to cum. within a minute, a long whine comes from her as her body shakes, cumming on your cock.

a whimper escapes her lips as you slow down but don't completely stop, keeping the strap buried deep inside her as you grab her hair and pull on it to have her look at you through the mirror again.

"what did i say, baby? we're just getting started."

[tsumey]

fem. reader, not proofread, 815 words

miya atsumu has a problem.

well, multiple problems. but all his problems boil down to the teacher’s assistant in his physiology class.

it was annoying how she’d always hold him back after lectures to remind him of his deadlines, how she’s always up his ass about his test scores, and how she’d never fail to mention tutoring for him.

he doesn't need a tutor, his grades are average! and besides, he didn’t get a scholarship to be a star student, he was asked to be there to play volleyball, dammit.

his friends tease him about his academic performance, which further annoys him because again, he is not failing! he’s only missed like….five deadlines..but he still managed to submit them after a week!

he doubts he’s the only one falling behind in class, so why does that damn ta always single him out?

“i don’t know why you’re complainin’ so much ‘bout her. it sounds like you’re her problem more than anything.” atsumu pouts at this, his stupid brother doesn’t know anything.

“you don't understand. she definitely has it out for me. i don’t remember doin’ anything to her but she definitely has a grudge against me.”

sunarin chimes in, “y/n? sweet little y/n? grudge isn’t in her vocabulary, you’re just stupid.”

“and how would you know? you friends with her or somethin’?” atsumu rolls his eyes at his friend. god, even when she wasn't around, she still manages to put a sneer on his face.

“nah, we’re just cool like that. we were in a group project for biochem.” 

“let me guess, she was all strict n uptight about your part.” he has a smirk on his face, confident that y/n was as bad to suna as she was with him.

“easiest person to work on a project with.” suna counters atsumu’s smug look with his own. 

atsumu reacts to this by groaning loudly and frustratedly pulling his hair while osamu and suna snicker.

“remember, midterms are next week!” the professor’s reminder gets drowned by the noise of students’ chatter as they go bustling out of the lecture hall. atsumu scurries out with the rest, already dreading the coming week. his eyes narrow as he nears the exit, spotting his biggest headache by the doors, seemingly waiting for him. 

he lets out a loud sigh when he hears you call out his name before he could even try to blend in with the other students. he quickly wipes off his irked expression and mustered up a polite smile. 

“hey atsumu, sorry for holding you up again. i just wanted to talk to you about something.” you gave him a smile that looked sweet, and he wasn’t used to sweet.

atsumu raises a brow at this. now why in the world are you smiling like that when you’re probably just going to scold him again for his missing work?

“what did you want to ask?” he couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive, this was certainly not how he expected you to greet him, all smiley and upbeat, a stark contrast to your usual serious attitude towards him.

“so as you know, midterms are coming up,” atsumu internally sighs and braces himself for the usual words that were going to come out of your lips, “and i was wondering if you’d like to study together.”

now this. this is definitely not what he was expecting at all. his brows shot up at what he heard, “you mean you wanna tutor me?”

“no, not like that!” you chuckled, “just studying, but like, with the two of us.” you awkwardly explained.

is she asking me out on a date? a study date? is what atsumu thought, because his mind was so boggled that you, the annoying ta, was asking him, miya atsumu, if he wanted to study for midterms together.

“uh yer askin’ me?” his accent accidentally slips out, a telltale sign of just how puzzled he was. “i mean, yer askin’ me ‘cuz of my shit grades, right?”

your smile gets wider, perhaps too wide, but atsumu’s not surprised any more so than he already was. he watches as you erupt into a fit of giggles at his question. it’s cute, he thinks. you’re cute, when you’re not bugging him about school. he could finally see your charm, now that he actually looked at you with his mind quiet of disgruntled thoughts of you.

“no no, you’re actually doing very well recently. i know we have some classes together so i just, y’know, thought i’d ask.” atsumu sees your wide smile ease into a more bashful one. just when he thought you couldn’t get prettier. you really are full of surprises, and atsumu is so pleasantly surprised.

atsumu releases an amused breath and flashes you his famous grin, “sure, i’d like that.”

“meet me in the library later?”

“great, its a study date.”