#no real meaning i just liked the sound of it

[yois2aki]

wc. 4.2k

cw. fluff, smut, worshipping, caleb is head over heels for you, he calls you pipsqueak during it, use of toys, bondage, unprotected sex, edging, fingering, caleb admits to being a perv at some point

the night was quiet, the only sound in the room the soft rustling of the sheets as you shifted closer to caleb. the warmth of his body enveloped you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back a soothing rhythm. his arm was draped over your waist, his fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles against your skin, as if he needed to remind himself that you were real.

“you’re still awake,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper against your ear. it wasn’t a question—he knew you too well, could tell by the way your breathing hadn’t evened out yet.

you hummed in response, shifting so that you could turn and face him. in the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, you could just barely make out the softness in his expression, the way his gaze lingered on you as if you were the most precious thing in the universe.

his fingers brushed against your cheek, featherlight. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice full of something tender, something reverent. “do you know that?”

you felt a warmth spread through you at his words, a slow and steady burn that settled deep in your chest. “you always say that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.

“because it’s always true,” caleb countered, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles before he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “every time i look at you, it’s like i fall in love all over again.”

your breath hitched slightly at his words, at the way his voice dipped lower, softer, meant only for you. he had always been protective, always intense in the way he loved, but moments like these—where his entire world seemed to narrow down to just you—left you feeling weightless.

his hand slid down, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on the small of your back, pulling you even closer. “i love the way you fit against me,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along your temple. “like you were made just for me.”

you shivered, not from the cold, but from the way his voice wrapped around you, warm and intimate. you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. he smelled like home—like something safe, something constant.

caleb let out a quiet hum of contentment, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing along the bare skin of your spine. “i could stay like this forever,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “just holding you… feeling you against me.”

your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed closer. “me too.”

he smiled against your hair, his breath warm as he whispered, “i love the way you say that.”

you pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, a teasing glint in your eyes. “say what?”

“me too,” he repeated, his thumb stroking lazy circles against your skin. “like you mean it.” his eyes softened, his expression turning impossibly tender. “like i’m your home, the way you are mine.”

your heart clenched at his words, at the sheer devotion in them. you reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw before guiding him closer, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. he sighed against you, his grip tightening as if he never wanted to let go.

when you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers threading through your hair. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “more than anything. more than the planes in the sky, more than the air in my lungs.” he let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “god, i love you so much it terrifies me. every time i remember the things i would sacrifice for you, i get scared."

you felt a lump form in your throat at the raw honesty in his voice, the way he bared his soul to you without hesitation. “caleb…”

he shook his head, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “i don’t think you understand what you do to me,” he murmured. “how you make everything feel right, even when the world is a mess. i don’t care where we are, what happens, as long as i have you.”

your fingers tightened around his shirt, your chest aching with how much love you felt for him in that moment. “you have me,” you whispered, your voice unsteady. “always.”

his breath hitched, and for a second, he just held you there, his grip unrelenting, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “you promise?”

you reached up, cupping his face between your hands. “i swear it.”

caleb exhaled, something in him finally settling, and then he was kissing you again—slow and deep, like he wanted to memorize every inch of you. his hands traced your sides, his touch reverent, worshipful.

“i love every part of you,” he whispered against your lips. “the way you smile at me when you think i’m not looking. the way your nose scrunches up when you’re focused. the way you sigh my name when you’re falling asleep.” his voice dropped even lower, barely audible. “the way you let me love you.”

your eyes burned with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his affection. “caleb…"

he shook his head again, silencing you with another kiss. “you don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “just let me hold you.”

you nodded, burying yourself against him, and he tightened his arms around you, pressing soft kisses along your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “i’ll never stop loving you,” he whispered. “never.”

the words settled deep in your heart, filling every space with warmth. and as you lay there, wrapped in caleb’s arms, his voice a constant murmur of love and devotion, you realized that no matter what happened, no matter where life took you, you would always be safe here—in the quiet of the night, in the strength of his embrace, in the love that bound you together.

caleb’s hands moved slowly, reverently, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. his fingers traced the curve of your back, his touch featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine. the warmth of his palm pressed against your skin, grounding you, making you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

“you’re so soft,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple before trailing down to your cheek, then lower, grazing the edge of your jaw. “so perfect.”

your breath hitched as he tilted your chin up, his fingers tracing the line of your throat. his touch wasn’t hurried—it was deliberate, lingering, as if he wanted to savor every second.

you sighed as he pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “caleb…”

he hummed in response, his lips curving into a small smile. “i love the way you say my name,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion. “like it belongs to you.”

his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, pulling it from your body. “it does,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath.

his eyes darkened, something tender and intense flickering in them as he gazed at your naked torso. “yeah,” he agreed softly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “it does.”

he suddenly made you lay on your back, his position shifting to stay on top of you. hands moving to your waist, his fingers splaying out against your skin as he pulled you even closer, your bodies perfectly aligned. his touch was gentle but firm, like he wanted to hold you there forever.

the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if you had all the time in the world. he tasted like warmth, like safety, like home. every brush of his lips, every soft sigh that escaped between you, felt like a silent promise—one of love, devotion, and unwavering need.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along your back, his touch both soothing and electric. “i never want to stop touching you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

you smiled, your fingers threading through his hair, relishing the way he leaned into your touch. “then don’t.”

his breath hitched at your words, and in the next moment, he was kissing down your neck, his hands roaming your sides, holding you like you were something fragile and precious. but there was a hunger in the way he moved, a deep, aching need to be as close to you as possible and claim you as his.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. “how much i need you."

you let out a breathless laugh, your heart racing. “then show me.”

a soft, reverent groan escaped him as he pulled you even closer, his lips trailing down your collarbone, pressing slow, lingering kisses to every inch of skin he could reach.

“i plan to,” he whispered, his voice full of love, devotion, and something deeper—something that made your heart stutter and your body melt into his.

the night stretched on, filled with soft whispers, gentle touches, and endless love, as caleb made good on his promise—to hold you, to cherish you, to love you in

"relax, pipsqueak," caleb's deep voice resonated, his sulky tone adding a touch of exotic charm. his breathing sent a shiver down you spine, and you found yourself nodding, eager to surrender to his expertise.

caleb sat up, his long legs brushing against your bare thighs. you felt the warmth of his skin, and a rush of excitement coursed through your veins. his strong hands rested on your knees, and he gently caressed your skin, his touch sending sparks of pleasure up your legs. "tell me, do you trust me?" he asked, his eyes holding yours in a captivating gaze.

"yes," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "i trust you, caleb."

a slight smile played on caleb's lips, and you swore you could see the way his gaze changed. he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "good. i'm going to make you feel like the luckiest woman alive, baby." with that, he stood up, his movements graceful yet commanding. he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on, noticing the way you cringed at the sensitivity in your eyes.

you could just make out caleb's silhouette as he moved towards the dresser. he opened a drawer and retrieved a small black bag, the contents of which clinked softly as he placed it on the bed.

"you'll let me use this to make you feel good, right?" he questioned, his voice a soothing murmur in the darkness. "first, i want you to relax and let go of any inhibitions." he guided you to lie back on the pillows, his hands gently urging you into a comfortable position.

obeying his instructions, you allowed you body to melt into the soft mattress. caleb's lips traced your collarbone once again, sending shivers down your neck. his touch was firm yet gentle, and you felt yourself surrendering to his will. "breathe deeply," he instructed, his warm breath caressing your cheek. "in and out, just like that..."

caleb's hands moved down your body, his fingers, stopping just where he stared at. he felt his entire body warm, and immediately pulled his shirt off to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, revealing his muscular build.

his hands moved to your breasts, and his touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you. his fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching them gently, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan.

"that's it— fuck..., you sound so good," caleb whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "let the pleasure consume you." with that, he moved his hands lower, his fingers deftly grabbing the hem of your shorts and sliding down. you lifted your hips to aid his efforts, eager for his touch.

the cool air caressed your bare skin as caleb slowly slid your underwear down your legs, his hands brushing against your inner thighs. his breathing hitched. he'd seen you naked like this many times before, but every time it happens he genuinely thinks he's fainting. "my beautiful princess..."

you felt your wetness, a testament to your growing desire. caleb's fingers trailed along your sensitive skin, making you squirm with anticipation.

"you're so responsive," he murmured, his voice filled with approval. "i can see you're ready for more." he positioned himself between your legs, his knees pressing against your outer thighs. you felt the heat of his body, and your core throbbed with need.

caleb's hands explored you intimately, his fingers stroking your wetness, spreading your essence along your folds. "you're so wet, so ready," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "are you that desperate for me? want me to show you all my love?" he teased your clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to send waves of pleasure through your body.

as he continued to stimulate you, your breath became shallow, your moans filling the room. caleb's fingers worked their magic, bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. just as you were about to climax, he withdrew his touch, leaving you teetering on the precipice of pleasure.

"not yet, beautiful. i'm sorry," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "i'm going to draw this out, make it last." he reached into his bag and retrieved a small, sleek vibrator. "this will help us... is that okay, princess?"

as soon as you nodded, caleb positioned the vibrator against your clit, and as he turned it on, a low hum filled the room. the vibrations sent shocks of pleasure through your body, and you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. caleb cursed as he held the toy firmly, controlling the intensity, ensuring you didn't find release too soon.

"she likes that, doesn't she?" he asked, talking about your squelching pussy, his voice a low growl. "everything about her... it's so perfect. she's so desperate like this. my girls." he adjusted the vibrator, moving it lower, pressing it against your entrance. slowly, he eased it inside you, filling you with a delightful sensation.

the vibrator pulsed within your insides, and caleb's fingers worked in tandem, massaging your clit as the toy stimulated you from within. your body trembled, and your moans grew louder, echoing off the bedroom walls. caleb's control was slipping, and his hand seemed to start shaking exactly when he was to push you to the brink without letting you fall.

"please... let me come," you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes, your voice hoarse and desperate.

"pipsqueak, fuck... don't do that," he whispered, his own need aching between his legs as he sucked in a heavy breath against your ear. "i want you to beg for it. show me how much you want it."

caleb's words sent a surge of desire through you, and you arched you back, pleading for release. he increased the intensity of the vibrator, and your body shook with the effort of holding back your awaited orgasm. "please, caleb, please let me..."

"keep going, my love," he insisted, his voice firm yet laced with desire. "you're doing so great, pretty girl..."

"please, caleb, i beg you..." you whispered, your voice raw with need.

caleb's control seemed to falter at the sound of his name on your lips. still, he withdrew the vibrator, and you whimpered in protest. but he wasn't done yet. he reached into his bag once more, this time retrieving a pair of soft silk restraints.

"trust me," he whispered, securing your wrists gently to the bedposts. "i need to see you tied up for me, pipsqueak."

caleb's eyes gleamed with a mixture of protection and desire as he stood over you, his body a powerful presence in the dim light. he resumed his position between your legs, his fingers replacing the vibrator, stroking your wetness, and bringing you back to the brink of ecstasy.

"now, my love, let go," he commanded, his voice a deep, commanding rumble. "let her pleasure consume you."

his words were like a spell, and as he worked his magic, your body exploded in a cascade of sensations. you cried out, the orgasm ripping through you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over your cunt. caleb's fingers continued their relentless assault, drawing out your climax, making it last, ensuring you experienced every exquisite moment.

as your body trembled and your cries filled the room, caleb leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. he then tasted her release, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of her orgasm. you clung to him, your wrists straining against the restraints, as your body continued to convulse in aftershocks.

finally, as your orgasm subsided, caleb released your wrists, his hands moving to caress your face. "my baby, my love," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with a promise of more. "you did so good for me, my angel. you deserve a reward."

and you, breathless and sated, could only nod, your body still buzzing with the intensity of the experience.

he captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you completely. caleb’s hands continued their exploration, sliding lower and lower until he cupped your ass, squeezing the firm flesh roughly.

breaking the kiss, caleb spun you around and forced your head down into the pillows, pushing your ass up by grabbing your waist. “i've wanted to do this since the moment i came back home,” he rasped, running a hand over the smooth expanse of your backside. “got a boner just from staring at your back while you baked like a damn teenager."

you whimpered, your body aching with need. “please, caleb. i need you.”

caleb pulled down his sweatpants and stroked his hard, throbbing cock through the fabric of his undergarments.

"remember when i told you i went showering?" he sighed, throwing his head back as he got rid of his last piece of clothing. he made eye contact with you through his entire speech, as if confessing his sins. "lied through my teeth. had to bust one out real quick, otherwise i'd just take you there. insane."

"that's how much i love you, baby," he rubbed the tip against your slick entrance, teasing her mercilessly. “so beg for me, pips. beg me to fuck you. again.”

“please, caleb,” you pleaded, your voice breathy with desire. “fuck me. make me yours.”

with a growl of satisfaction, caleb opened the bag to remove the largest sized condom he could find. tearing it open with his teeth, he slid it down his shaft, something in his gaze changing.

he leaned forward and slammed into you, burying himself deep inside your tight heat. you cried out, walls contracting around him as he began to move, setting a hard, fast pace. the bed creaked beneath you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

“fuck, love,” caleb groaned, his fingers digging into the sheets as he pounded into your pussy. “you feel so fucking good. so tight and wet and perfect.”

you could only moan in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of caleb's cock filling you, stretching you, claiming her. you arched your back against the bed, meeting his thrusts with your own, desperate for more, for everything he could give you.

caleb's long fingers went to rub your clit, his touch circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. “come for me, pipsqueak,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “come all over my cock.”

your body tightened, another orgasm building with each thrust, each touch “yes, caleb,” you gasped, your head falling backwards as you teetered on the edge. “i'm going to come. i'm going to come so hard.”

“fuck, yes,” caleb growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “come for me, baby. now.”

with a scream of ecstasy, you came, your body convulsing around caleb's cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. caleb followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside your hole as he spilled his hot seed.

you collapsed onto the bed, caleb's body covering yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. after a moment, caleb pulled out, his cock slipping free of your still-quivering pussy. he slowly lowered your thighs, massaging any area of your body that had been under too much pressure and kissing you deeply.

“that was incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “i love you, baby. love you so much.”

you smiled, eyes shining with satisfaction. “i had no idea you were such a passionate man.”

caleb chuckled, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “i try my best to keep my emotions away, but with you, i find that impossible. you bring out a side of me i never knew existed.”

you reached up to touch his face, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw. “i like this side of you, love. the side that’s not afraid to take what he wants, to claim what’s his.”

caleb's eyes darkened with desire, his cock already hardening again at your words. “is that so? and what if i told you i want to claim you again, right here, right now?”

your breath hitched, body already responding to his words, to the promise in his eyes. “then i would say that i'm yours, caleb. yours to take, yours to claim, yours to fuck until neither of us can move.”

caleb growled as he took off the previous condom, tying it before throwing it somewhere. his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he lifted your hips to meet his. “my good girl,” he rasped, spreading your thighs wide.

“because i'm going to fuck you again, and again, and again, until you’re screaming my name and begging me to stop.”

you moaned, your head falling back as caleb's fingers found your clit, stroking the sensitive nub with expert precision

“yes, caleb,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. “fuck me. make me yours again and again.”

caleb didn’t need to be told twice. he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with need. he didn't care about a condom this time, and straight up slammed into her, filling you completely. you cried out, walls tightening around him as he began to move, setting a punishing pace that had the bed shaking beneath them.

“fuck,” caleb groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “you're so fucking tight. so perfect. i could fuck you forever.”

“then do it,” you panted, nails digging into the pillows as you urged him on. “fuck me forever, love. make me yours for eternity.”

caleb growled, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, deeper. he could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. “i'm going to come, baby,” he warned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “i'm going to fill you up, mark you as mine.”

“please, caleb,” you begged, body trembling beneath him. “come inside me. give me everything you have.”

with a roar of pleasure, caleb came, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her. you followed him over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you milked him for every last drop.

your collapsed together on the bed again, caleb's body covering yours as you both struggled to catch their breath. after a moment, caleb lifted his head, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“that was incredible,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “you're incredible.”

you smiled, hand coming up to cup his cheek. “i could say the same about you, caleb. i never knew sex could be so intense, so all-consuming.”

caleb chuckled, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, sweet kiss. “it's not just the sex, pipsqueak. it's you. you bring out something in me that i never knew existed. something i never knew i needed.”

your heart swelled with emotion, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “i feel the same way, caleb. i never thought i could feel this way about anyone, but with you, it’s different. it’s special.”

caleb's eyes softened, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. “you're so beautiful, you're so mine. and this is real. you're real. and i'm not going to let you go.”

your heart soared, a laugh bubbling up from your throat. “i don’t want you to let me go, caleb. i want to be with you, always. no matter what happens, no matter where life takes us.”

caleb smiled, his eyes shining with love and happiness. “i love you, baby. love you so damn much.”

you kissed him then, pouring all of your love, all of your devotion into the kiss. caleb responded in kind, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

you stayed like that for a long moment, lost in each other, in the love and passion that had blossomed between you.

[lobautumny]

Not to mention shit like the speakers that are installed in a bunch of public spaces that play extremely loud sounds at a very high pitch that are specifically designed to not be audible to adults but to be extremely uncomfortable for children, to dissuade "dangerous antisocial behaviors" like... loitering. The horror.

A bunch of shitty adults act like it's remotely surprising that kids don't go outside and hang out with their friends anymore when, like, how and when and where are they supposed to do that? This toy knows your ass is too lazy to drive your kids anywhere that isn't on the way to somewhere that you wanted to go anyways more than once per month, and nearly a century of constant "you can't trust your neighbors" propaganda (red scare, gang fearmongering, muslim fearmongering, drug fearmongering, etc.) has left a ton of adults terrified of every unattended child they see outside, as well as being increasingly unwilling to let their own kids out of their sight for anything other than going to school. Also, when a given kid does have the means to hang out with friends on a regular basis, where do they have that they can go other than each other's houses? God knows that for the last several decades, the economy's been too shit for average working-class parents to give their kids an allowance, everything is extremely expensive, and there's never been less options for places kids can simply exist and hang out at outside.

Of fucking course kids are sitting inside on they phone all the damn time. They don't have anything else to do. Adults drove them away from everything else they could be doing because allowing children to exist anywhere is just too much of a hassle for anyone to bother dealing with. I mean, fuck, kids (especially non-white kids) can't even fucking play with toys outside anymore without running the risk of a cop shooting them in the head because they thought the bright orange Nerf blaster was a real gun (treated as a simple mistake, the cop gets suspended for a couple months and then gets to return to the force like nothing happened).

The fact of the matter is that the world in which we currently live fucking hates children. Children aren't treated as people. They're treated as political pawns, scapegoats, or property at best, and active threats at worst. Their suffering doesn't matter until they die, but then when they die, it's always "a freak tragedy that we simply could not have anticipated and cannot do anything to prevent future instances of." It's all reduced to abstract numbers that adults can shake their heads at, pretend to feel bad for a while, and then proceed to do fucking nothing about while another school gets shot up every week, and we all pretend it's normal because nobody wants to fucking address the fact that the way we treat children is beyond disgusting and unhealthy. We talk all the time about the online child grooming epidemic, cleverly point out how social media algorithms massively contribute to the problem and the platforms themselves knowingly do nothing about it, and then we all collectively shrug and look the other way. "Not my problem to deal with," everyone collectively says in unison. "It's not my kid," they say, until it is their kid, at which point it's yet another fucking "freak tragedy that could not have been prevented," and so it goes.

But god forbid a kid says they're queer and receives anything other than brutal punishment and bullying for it. Then, suddenly, by magic, everyone is an activist, everyone is a fucking expert on the online grooming problem as though they aren't so tech-illiterate that they're falling for AI boomerslop on Facebook, and everyone has a PhD in biology, and everyone has Opinions and is calling up their local legislators asking for quick, decisive action to be taken against this new social contagion corrupting our youth and for kids to be ripped away from their supportive parents and put into abusive foster programs. This toy knows that it has long since left the scope of the original point, but it's just so fucking angry. Ever since it was in middle school, it's known more people who were abused as kids or otherwise have extremely strenuous relationships with the adults in their lives than people who had what most people would try to convince you was a "normal" childhood in which they developed remotely positive relationships with the adults around them and were not abused and did not develop immense trauma as the direct result of shitty actions taken by malicious, stupid, or neglectful adults in their lives.

Children deserve far better than the world we have forced them to live in.

"kids these days don't loiter or act rebellious enough any more" kids just existing in public are more criminalized and surveilled than ever. almost every western country is running a panic about youth crime and how random teens standing awkwardly are a threat to civilization, and pushing for much more punitive laws. tons of states and powerful lobbies are pushing "parental right laws" that restrict the civil rights of minors even more. policing is first and foremost targeting youths, especially from low income and majority immigrant neighbourhoods. if a kid mildly steps out of line or says something awkward online or in a public space half a dozen people can whip up their phone and start mass harassment campaigns. and tech companies are now restricting access to the internet, the last way many teens can talk to each other freely and reach out to people outside family and school.

anyhow i think people really need to start giving kids at least a tiny bit more grace instead of making smug posts about how uncool they are compared to your youth days, you fucking twats

[syluriar]

please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 2

sypnosis: the aftermath of caleb catching you on the phone to escape him.

a/n: part 2 is finally here!! i apologise that this took me awhile, i just wanted this chapter to be right and i feel good about it now. there will be a part 3 to this, not sure about part 4 but we'll see how this goes.

warnings: some angst but with comfort. caleb being possessive and genually confused why you want to leave. mc (you) finally letting your fustrations out. sylus appears. caleb gets punched :) not for caleb girlies (sorry!)

word count: 3091 (insert spongebob exhausted meme)

taglist: @eternityjune @swissschees3 @notomyrr @jilly-xox7 @mizunareader @monticarlo @leiakitty @wiiieeeeeee @lynnaredfield3383 @idrkgurr @cms399 @ladycrown109 @capribun @crimsonlittlecrow @bi-goth-energy @rik0shii @letharue @sylusjinxedpaw @mcdepressed290 @kaeyasfuturewife @magicatemyvanishingdreams @deethedolly @beautifulthingsiadore @katykibbs @futuristicdefendorfart @qinluna @lemonn015 @magpie-the-goblin-girl @beewilko @thechaoticarchivist @aikonecrosis @gianchan-de @gamergirl31201 i think that's everyone? i apologise if i forget to tag you, there was a lot of people who wanted to be tagged which makes me fell so happy - thank u!!

When was the last time you ever felt this scared?

Perhaps your first time facing a real Wanderer? That time you had a creep not taking no for an answer when you were alone in a nightclub? Or maybe that time where you were walking alone and came across a thief with a weapon? 

But you had overcome them. The Wanderer died by your pistols, the creep getting punched in the face by your fists and thrown out by security, and the thief getting it’s weapon knocked out of it’s hand by you and arrested by the police moments later. 

The adrenaline that had rushed through you pushed it all away within those moments, and it was only after you had reflected on the experience that almost had you buckle your knees and grab the nearest thing to keep you standing, your heart bounding and your thoughts and absolute mess. It had taken you a while to calm down and look back on those moments without fear, and instead of what you had accomplished.

Unlike right now.

“Still not talking?”

You hadn’t spoken a word to Caleb after he caught you ending the call with Sylus, begging him to come and save you from the man you once felt safe and secure with. 

The tracker on your wrist reminds you of anything but those feelings and more.

Caleb sighs from his seated position in the kitchen and stands, the sound of his footsteps getting closer to you fills you with dread. He seats himself on the edge of the coffee table in front of you and you instantly move back so his feet don’t touch you, your eyes finding a spot on the floor to stare at.

He chuckles. “You won't even look at me, how mean of you.”

Retorts sit on your tongue that you hold still. Your already deep in trouble, you don’t want to know what will happen if you fall more. 

By the corner of your eyes you see him angle his head to try and catch your eyes, but you look away quickly. What would you see in them? Pity? Annoyance? Anger? Even if it was soft, you wouldn’t fall for it, your not that naive anymore.

You gasp as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, his told had a certain tightness to it that could choke you in seconds - you wouldn’t put it past him to do it, though it still scares you to know that.

“There we go.” He smiles, and everything about it screams it’s not the one from the past, the warm one you remember. “Now all that's left is for you to talk, but since you won’t do that, I guess I have to play a little guessing game.”

It doesn’t matter, you think. He can guess all he likes and you won’t answer him. Let’s see how he likes to be the one ignored now.

“Now who would you be calling at this hour when everyone is asleep, like you should have been.” There’s a mocking tone in his voice that makes you want to punch him. It should have made you worried about doing such a thing to someone you saw as a friend, but all you saw in front of you was a creature that enjoyed your torture. 

“It can’t be your dear Dr. Zayne, he’s too busy and has things far too important then calling you.”

It hurt you a little to hear Caleb talking about Zayne like that, the three of you had a good friendship growing up, it had amused you of the little arguments they would get into. You knew that no matter what happened you would always have them to fall back on and pick you back up. Zayne had greatly helped you ever since you thought Caleb had died, and the thought of the three of you being back together made your heart warm when you found Caleb again. 

How unfortunate that wouldn’t happen.

“Someone the Hunters Association? Hmmm possibly. But who exactly?” Caleb tapped his chin with his other hand, your chin still firmly held by his other that it was starting to ache. “No one there can come in here and sneak you out without anyone onboard knowing, even if a team banded together. So let’s rule that out.”

He clearly underestimated your Association. You might not know everyone there, but the only reason those people have been made Hunters is because they have the power to do so, they’ve all been through the hard training it takes and passed. You remember all the training you had to do and your sure Caleb does too, as you had called him after sessions, complaining about it all and the aches and bruises on your body.

“You keep complaining about it but I never hear you say that you’re gonna leave.”

“Of course I'm not! Quitting would mean that I’m not cut out to be a Hunte. You’ve said I am so many times, do you not think it anymore?”

“Not at all. I believe in you more than anyone that you’ll pass, and become the world's greatest Hunter.”

“Ok, not that much Caleb.”

He laughed then, full of warmth and joy. “Just keep going Pip-squeak, and before you know it, you’ve passed and got your license. Just don’t forget about me when you're off saving everyone from Wanderers, ok?” 

Does he still believe in you now? Do you even want to know? You’re still surprised he hasn’t told you to leave them and just stay with him.

“I guess that only leaves one other place.” He muses, and you feel like he’s close to the answer.

Just don’t react. Don’t let him know.

“But would you really call someone from there? And who? There’s not many good people in the N109 Zone.”

Your face remains neutral as Caleb scans it for any signs and frowns when there isn’t any. You hide your pride at this, though it probably thanks to him that your learning to mask your emotions well.

“Actually, scratch that, there’s no good people in that place. Illegal dealings and filled with violence and crime, there no better than Wanderers. Infact, I bet they’re worse than Wanderers. At least those creatures were someone innocent before turning, people in the N109 Zone have been black-hearted since the start. Like true monsters.”

You swing your cuffed wrists to smack him but they’re quickly caught in his free hand, a smirk now dancing on his lips. 

“Oh, it seems like I hit a spot. So your trip to the N109 Zone did have you in contact with someone there.” He pulls you forward by your wrists, noses just barely touching. His voice was laced with demand. “Who?”

A grunt falls from your lips as you try and pull your wrists back, but Caleb’s hold on them is strong.

It tightens.

“Who?”

You stop and look at him, his eyes so dim you wonder if they’ve truly turned black. You can see anything in them other than dark feelings that create goosebumps on your skin.

You swallow, a bit of courage coming to your throat. “I guess that’s round two of your guessing game.”

A thick silence hangs in the air and your ears pick up noises you don’t remember registering. The ticking of the clock on the wall, the sound of cars driving outside and the pitter patter of rain softly hitting the windows. Mixed with Caleb before you, it was starting to become stimulating, and you pray that Sylus will be here soon.

Caleb’s frown deepens. “Why do you want to go to him, hmm? Skyhaven is much more safer and secure then the N109 Zone.” 

“I have never feared more for my life than staying here.” You reply. To hell with staying silent, that’s what you’ve done more than anything since you’ve been here. You let Caleb have his way, let him ramble on and on and speak badly about a place - about a man you wanted to go back to more than anything.

You’re done with it.

“What can he possibly give you that I can’t?” He’s not glaring but close, he’s looking at you as if he just can’t phantom the idea of you wanting to leave. “How can you want to go to him when I’m right here?”

“Because he would never treat me this way!” You scream, and the look of shock on his face makes you keep going. “He’s never locked me in and he lets me have my freedom with no complaints or bargains. He never punishes me and never makes me feel afraid of him. He’s someone who treats me like I’m someone, not a possession. He's someone I can trust and go to without fear.” Your breathing heavily, the words keep coming out and your not stopping them, too fed up with the man infront of you. “He’s the opposite of you Caleb, and as soon as he comes here I’m going with him, and you can’t stop me.”

You didn’t realise you had stood up until you saw Caleb’s eye move to look up at you, for once you had gotten power over him, had made him look at you and made him speechless. 

Adrenaline runs through your body and you know you can’t let it go, no matter what happens next.

So when the look of shock vanishes over Caleb’s face and is replaced with a glare, you lock in and quickly pull your still bound wrists free from his hold, keeping them close to your chest. When he stands you step away instantly, creating space between the two of you. 

“And what makes you think I’ll let you leave?” His voice drips with venom. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before and almost falters you.

“Because she’s her own person.” a voice breaks out, one that’s so familiar that it makes your heart race. “Because she has the right to her own freedom.”

Both of you turn to the door that’s now locked behind a tall and imposing figure, his white hair gleaming in the ceiling lights. 

“Because she wants to.” 

He steps forward and the light shines on his face, that handsome face of your saviour. “Oh, and because I’m here to help her, isn’t that right, sweetie?” His gleaming red eyes fall on you, and you smile, hope filling you. 

“Sylus…”

Caleb sucks through his teeth, irritation clear all over his face. “How did you get in unnoticed? Every member had been alerted that you would be coming.”

Sylus shrugs nonchalantly, confidence oozing off him. “And despite that I didn’t get much of a welcome party. Your fleet needs more training.” 

The comment only makes Caleb’s irritation grow, and it brings some satisfaction to you. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m taking Miss Hunter home.”

Home. The word makes your heart swell. 

“She’s not going anywhere, especially not with you.” Caleb straightens and you feel his Evol approaching, it causes goosebumps on your skin once again and you instantly look at Sylus, who just looks bored.

“Seems like you need hearing lessons as well.” His own Evol floating around his fists, ready to release.

You knew there was going to be a fight once Sylus showed up, he would avoid it if he could if that’s what you wanted, but Caleb wouldn’t let you go without a fight. Even if Caleb hadn’t caught you and you managed to sneak past him with Sylus, he would only come and get you himself and cause a ruckus wherever you went to get you back. He would see it as you being kidnapped and brainwashed to turn against him.

Caleb needs to know that you want to leave on your own free will, and not just with words. The fact that you called for help should have already planted that seed somewhere in his head.

“Stop it Caleb. Let me go.” 

He turns to you, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

You stand straight, your voice calm as you speak. “I want to leave, right here, right now. So let me go.”

He stares at you, teeth gritted and brows furrowed, but his eyes are scanning you, hoping to find something he can use to make you stay, to blind himself that this isn’t your free choice of will. But he can’t find any, and his irritation and confusion grows. “Why? Why do you want to leave me? I thought after everything we’ve been through, you’d want to stay with me forever.”

And you had wanted that too. 

“I had never felt such relief when I found Caleb alive.” You tell him with a soft voice, the painful memories all coming back. “I spent night’s crying because I thought you were dead, days went past in a blur and I was always reminded to eat even the smallest thing because my mind wouldn’t register the simplest things that my body needed. All I could think about was you.” 

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t care to wipe them away, with showing Caleb your true emotions, you hope that he’ll finally understand. “Time passed and it got a little easier, but I still thought about you. I didn’t even think I would meet you here…and yet I did. I was so happy Caleb, I thought things would go back the way they were before. Always laughing and joking around, having you by my side to comfort me and give me strength…but you’ve done the exact opposite.”

Confidence flows through your veins as you take a step towards him, his figure still but has lost it’s tension. Your getting through to him. “The things I said before, about me being afraid of you, it’s all true. You keep me locked up and take away my things. You don’t let me have my freedom and even tell me when to go to sleep like I’m a child. It honestly scares me that you can’t see that your hurting me, hurting me so much that I want to escape from you.”

“I didn’t…” His aura falters, the dark and imposing man has been replaced with disbelief and confusion. “I never want you to be afraid of me, I didn’t do all those things to scare you. I want to protect you.”

“Was giving me medicine with the intention of me falling asleep protecting me?” You spat back, the memory of it still causing a shiver of unease down your spine. “I’m a Hunter Caleb, I don’t need this kind of protection. You said that you believed in me when I was doing my exams, but it looks like I’m weak to you.”

“You’re not! That’s…That’s not what I think!”

“I don’t care what you think anymore Caleb, except for the fact that I want to leave SkyHaven and I want to leave you of my own free will. That’s my choice Caleb.”

A noise leaves Caleb’s lips, something frustrated and perhaps sad. You don’t fully understand it but right now you don’t care. You take another step towards him, close enough to touch his chest if you reach out. 

You show him your bound wrists. “Take these off…please.”

He looks down at them, thousands of emotions dance through his eyes that you can’t decipher, but he waves a hand over them and you hear a click before the cuffs fall on the floor.

“Thank you Caleb…and I’m sorry.”

Before he can even respond you punch him square in the face, his body falling to the ground instantly, knocked out.

Whoops.

The slow clapping of hands erases the tense atmosphere from the room.

“An excellent performance, kitten.” Sylus smirks as he walks over. “You had him in your grasp and took matters into your own hands, just like I knew you could.”

There was something about his praise that brightens you, maybe it’s because you know he’s saying it sincerely that has your stomach filled with butterflies. You fight back the smile that threatens your lips. “I didn’t mean to knock him out..”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, sweetie. You still wanted to punch him, not that I blame you.” His eyes scan over the unconscious body of your ex best friend, frowning at the sight. “I wanted to get some in.”

“You would have killed him then.” You commented, and despite everything Caleb has put you through, you didn’t want him dead - for real this time. “I don’t think the fleet would be too happy about that.”

“I don’t mind making a few more enemies, especially the ones that hurt you.” 

Air catches in your throat as Sylus turns back at you, his eyes looking at you softly. “Are you alright?”

Maybe it was because it was said so gently, full of comfort and genuineness, laced with true worry. that has you tearing up once more. “I want to go home Sylus.”

He gathers you in his arms, holding you close to his chest that you feel his warmth that engulfs you, bringing a sense of calm to your body. “It’s ok. I’m here, and I’m taking you home.” He lifts you in his arms that you don’t protest, you don’t ever want to leave his safe arms ever again. “Luke and Kieran have cleaned your apartment ready for you to come back.”

“No Sylus,” You croak against his neck, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. Apart from Skyhaven your apartment is the last place you want to be right now, there’s no sense of security that will calm you if you return back there. 

There’s only one place you want to be.

That mansion that started out cold that is now warm with your touches; the plushies on the sofa and the blankets on the bed. The fairy lights in his study and the colourful mugs in his kitchen, your skincare and make-up products sitting neatly in his bathroom cabinet and the photobooth pictures hanging by the vanity he had bought you.

“Take us home.”

He looks at you then, surprise written across his face that it almost makes you giggle. You never really called it home to his face, even with your things scattered across the building. 

Sylus smiles, it’s not the one his enemies see or the ones the twins get when they’ve pulled a prank. It’s a smile only reserved for you, and it shines brighter than any star you have ever seen.

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

[trappolia]

── DID MY LOVE AID AND ABET YOU?

(book 7 spoilers!)

ace trappola. hearts bared and dreams unveiled, you come to terms with something that has festered in the boy you love.

"You're the most selfish person I know."

It's horrifyingly bare, Ace realises, the way he lays still beneath you. Your weight rests upon his torso, legs straddling him on either side. Both of you are clothed, of course, Deuce would be horrified to see anything else if he stirred awake from where he was still recuperating on the bed across the room.

But there is something about it. Naked, not like two lovers in sex, but as if you have dug your fingers through the hollow skin of his sternum to peel it apart, baring his heart where it thumps erratically against the cage of his ribs. He lays prone beneath you, simply staring at the visage of your face (dream-like, though certainly not a dream. Not anymore. He's woken up now, thanks to you, but by doing so, you have unearthed his deepest insecurities.)

He wonders if you’d be selfish enough to dig in deeper, to unfurl the twisting cage of his ribs to bare his heart, which has always been yours for the taking.

"More than yourself?" Ace challenges. It's delivered in a light tone, easily heard as a quip to others— but you have known him long enough to recognise a challenge, to know that he sees you too in this sense.

(The question is easy for you to translate. Are you not selfish as well? Will you not try to pry me open like a gilded treasure trove of secrets, see how much more I will give to you? You've had a taste of my true heart now, and you want more. Greedy little thing.

Ace sees it in the light furrow of your brow when you stare at him. You're still figuring out the answer that Ace already knows.

He would give anything to you if you fought him hard enough for it.)

"Takes one to know one," Ace goes on when you don't answer. He dares to reach out, brushes his fingers over the light curve of your cheekbone. "'sides, is it so bad? Being selfish, I mean. Can't imagine you've got any complaints."

"I'm not talking about your dream," you huff, hands braced on his chest. Sleep rests heavy upon your eyelids, calls for you to curl up in his bloody ribs and rest there forever. It is the sleepiness that lets you both indulge in this quiet intimacy, especially in the wake of battle.

"What, you just calling me selfish in general then?" Ace snorts, pinching your hip. You scowl, swatting him slightly.

"Yes. Yes. You're a selfish man, Ace Trappola."

"Takes one to know one," Ace echoes his prior words.

His hand trails from your face to your hip, squeezing the curve of it in his palm. You are warm and heavy and real in his hands, and he can't help the way his touch wanders like a curious child. The remnants of Malleus's magic still linger in his bones, in the deep crevices of his mind, and the way you're sitting on top of him doesn't help in the question still sitting in the back of his mind.

Is he still dreaming?

"Selfish," you say again, like a broken record.

Ace stares at your face. There's the furrow of your brow and the light downturn to your lips, the plump of the bottom jutting out slightly, as if you're about to cry. You say that you're not talking about his dream, but Ace knows better. He knows that it lingers in your mind, the thought of how he loves you enough to let you go home. The thought of how he loves you enough to let you live your own life while he learns to live without you in his.

(But he is still selfish. The line between dream and nightmare is drawn where he is sure that you would return to him, because of course you would return to him. Of course he would only accept your departure if he knew that you could somehow acquire a return ticket. You know this too.)

"Don't leave me," Ace whispers. He tries to make it sound less of a plea, less than a beg. He knows he is failing.

You swallow. "You're so selfish."

But Ace knows that you're more selfish. You are, perhaps, the most selfish one of all. It is in the searing warmth of your body, nearly burning through your clothes as you lean over him; in the cruelty of the way you press your lips against his like a prince rousing his princess from an eternal sleep, as if the two of you would ever have the blessing of living together happily forever after.

If this is a dream, Ace wishes that you would never wake him up.

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"Jealous of himself"

Pairing : I.N x fe! reader (established relationship)

Synopsis : You were fangirling over his magazine photoshoot shots only for him to ridiculously get jealous of himself because you were not paying attention to the real him.

Warning : Just pure fluff. No warning at all.

Enjoy!

........

Jeongin was sitting right next to you. Right there.

And yet, you weren’t paying him a single ounce of attention.

No, because in your hands was a magazine—a magazine that contained his latest photoshoot, and you were currently losing your mind over it.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, clutching the magazine dramatically. “Who allowed this?! This should be illegal!”

Jeongin glanced at you, completely confused. “Uh… what should be illegal?”

You ignored him, flipping to the next page. “This entire photoshoot! Are you serious?! How do you even exist looking like this?”

He blinked. “Babe, I’m… literally sitting right next to you?”

You held up the magazine in front of his face. “No, because look at this! Are you seeing what I’m seeing? The jawline? The smirk? The eyebrows? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?”

Jeongin scoffed, pulling the magazine down so he could see your face. “I gave me the right? Because, you know, that’s me?”

You ignored him again, flipping to another page. “Oh my god, you’re actually unreal. This belongs in an art museum. No—he belongs in an art museum.”

A beat of silence.

Then Jeongin squinted at you. “…Did you just refer to me as if I’m a different person?”

You waved him off, eyes still glued to the pictures. “Magazine Jeongin just hits different.”

Jeongin let out an incredulous laugh. “I—EXCUSE ME?”

You kept flipping pages, completely entranced. Meanwhile, Jeongin sat there, watching you in absolute disbelief, arms crossed, lips slightly parted like you had just personally offended him.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m sitting RIGHT HERE, but somehow I’m getting ignored in favor of… me?”

You hummed, barely registering his words. “Ugh, I just love him so much.”

Jeongin gasped. “OH, SO YOU LOVE HIM?”

You finally looked up, blinking at him. “Uh… yeah?”

His jaw dropped. “THE HIM IN THE MAGAZINE?!”

You had to press your lips together to keep from laughing. “I mean… look at him. He’s—”

“Nope.” Jeongin stood up dramatically, shaking his head. “I refuse. I REFUSE to be jealous of MYSELF.”

You finally lost it, bursting into laughter so hard you almost dropped the magazine. “Jeongin, babe, are you seriously mad right now?”

“Yes!” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Because my own girlfriend is simping for a printed version of me while ignoring the real me sitting right next to her! This is actual insanity.”

You wiped away tears from laughing so hard. “Oh, baby, are you pouting right now?”

“I am not pouting.” He was definitely pouting. His cheeks were puffed out slightly, lips pursed, eyes narrowed at you like you had personally betrayed him.

“Aw, my baby’s jealous,” you teased, setting the magazine down and reaching for him.

Jeongin took a step back, dodging your hands. “No. Go cuddle your precious magazine Jeongin.”

You gasped dramatically. “You don’t want my love anymore?”

“I do, but apparently I have competition,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And the worst part? The competition is ME.”

That sent you into another fit of laughter. “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

He huffed, still acting offended, but you could see the corners of his lips twitching. He was trying so hard not to laugh, but his own jealousy was just too funny to stay mad.

Deciding to push his buttons further, you sighed dreamily. “Honestly… I think I should frame this.” You picked up the magazine again, flipping to your favorite picture of him. “Maybe put it on my nightstand so I can look at him every night before I sleep.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Jeongin groaned, snatching the magazine right out of your hands.

“HEY—”

“You’ve lost magazine privileges,” he announced, holding it above his head where you couldn’t reach.

You whined, trying to grab it back. “Give it back!”

“Nope. You can have me instead.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Wait… so you want me to simp over you in real life?”

He smirked, tucking the magazine under his arm. “Obviously. If you’re gonna drool over me, at least let me see it in person.”

You rolled your eyes, finally giving in and wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re so dumb.”

“And yet, you love me,” he sang, letting the magazine drop onto the couch so he could pull you closer.

“Unfortunately.”

He gasped. “Unfortunately? Wow. Maybe I should let magazine Jeongin have you then—”

You shut him up with a kiss, effectively wiping the smirk off his face. When you pulled away, he was looking at you, slightly dazed, but with the biggest grin.

“Okay, fine. Real-life Jeongin wins.” you teased, poking his cheek. “Now, go get my magazine.”

“Absolutely not.”

And just like that, your ridiculous boyfriend won the dumbest battle of jealousy in history.

......

Happy belated birthday to our maknae on top 🎂

[plaidos]

...you see what i mean? 😭😭😭😭 "idk why it just feels more lesbian to say silicone penis than possibly be mistaken as referring to a (gasp) real penis...." yeah i wonder why. how do y'all not realise you sound like terfs 😭😭😭

Why do people edit stuff to say strap instead of dick or penis or whatever like what r u afraid of..

[pellucid-constellations]

Yes!! Bucky drabble pleaseeee. Soft!bucky!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 800

Warnings: Broken bones, this is just fluff and a fave trope of mine

a/n: Here's a little fun one <3

~~

“Yeah, thanks,” Bucky grunted out, bending his knees as you hung off his neck and giggled to yourself. The doctor was talking so much and you clearly needed to sit down. “I think we got it, doc. I’ll bring her back next week to check the break once the swelling’s gone down.” 

He said a few more things about pain medications and infections and Bucky fought an eye roll because there was no way in hell he’d let you get an infection. 

“Right, and how long is she going to be like… this?” Bucky asked when there was a pause in the never-ending surge of information. You gasped into his ear, standing straight up. 

“That was rude,” you chastised. You attempted to unwind yourself from him, but the cast on your arm impeded your ability to dramatically cast yourself away. 

Bucky turned from the doctor to catch your bleary, narrowed gaze. “Didn’t mean it in a bad way, honey.” 

You scoffed, bringing your hand up to his jaw. “I want a smoothie.” 

Bucky returned his gaze to the doctor, brows raised. 

“Should only be a couple of hours at most. If you get her sleeping, it will wear off faster.” 

Bucky appreciated the good news from the doctor, but as he attempted to shove you into his truck, the few-hour estimate was excruciating.

“Please. I love you, but you have to listen to me and get in the car. I can get you a smoothie once we leave, sweetheart.”

“Are you married?” you asked in an accusatory fashion, eyes once again narrowed. 

Bucky paused at that, hands on his hips as you stood your ground in front of his car. “Uh, yeah,” he answered. “My wive’s a real piece of work sometimes, I’ll tell you that much.” 

You laughed at him, the sound sardonic and curt. “I knew it. You keep calling me sweetheart and honey and you had your hands all over me.” You threw your hands up. Bucky winced as your broken one flung in the air. “I’m sure your wife wouldn’t appreciate that very much, would she? But what can I expect from a man?” 

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, his expression softening as you continued to glare at him. “Thank you for looking out for my wife. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure she would,” you seethed. 

“Yeah, I love her a whole lot. Nice to know other people appreciate her.” 

“Nice way of showing it, you creep.” 

Bucky fought back a smile, not wanting to mock your sincere anger. He stood a few feet away from you in the parking lot as you stared him down, your back pressed against his truck in defiance. You wouldn’t get in because you thought he was trying to cheat on his wife. You were his wife, but he couldn’t blame you for not making the connection. He always considered you way out of his league. 

“Do me a favor?” Bucky asked, a laugh lodging in his throat at the way you scoffed. He slid your phone from his front pocket and held it out in front of him. He didn’t miss the way you eyed his wedding band in distaste. “Call your friend for me—Wanda, I think it was. She can pick you up.” 

You ripped the phone from his hand, making a show of pressing your finger to the screen aggressively (which Bucky again flinched at because—broken arm), when you abruptly paused. You looked at your phone screen and back at Bucky several times, the disorientation more prevalent on your face without the anger taking over. 

“Is this me?” you asked, words more slurred. 

Bucky began inching forward, eager to get you in the car as your body started catching up to the mind-numbing pain medications you were currently on. He spoke as you kept your eyes glued to your phone.

“Uh huh. You married me. Crazy, isn’t it?” 

“Huh,” you breathed out. “Sorry, then.” 

Bucky didn’t hide his laugh this time. He caught your waist as you started to sag further into the truck, guiding your head into his shoulder, the lovesick expression on his face only for the side view mirror to see. 

“S’alright,” he comforted. “Still mad at me?”

“Probably not. You’re my husband.” 

“Guess you can decide when you wake up.” 

You hummed in response, Bucky taking the opportunity to unlock the car and slide you into the passenger seat. Once the seatbelt was firmly across your chest, he kept his hand on the headrest and leaned closer to your mused face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek, sharing a private smile with no one as you scrunched your face up. “Sorry, sorry—forgot you just met me.” He gave your chin a soft tap and shut the door, jogging to the other side before mumbling to himself. “Married for five years but whatever.” 

[henry7931]

Billy’s College Adventure Part 3

Samuel:

“Good Morning,” says Billy to me from my body.I almost have to do a double take after seeing myself laying next to me.

“Morning,” I say with a grin.

“So it’s Saturday, what do you have planned for us Mr. Bodythief?,”

“Well you’re gonna just have to dressed to find out,” I say back.

“Booooo!!!”

I stand up and Billy tosses a pillow at me.

“Relax! I’ll tell you more, let’s just get ready,” I say winking at him.

We both get dressed and it took all of my energy not to ask him if we could hook up in the shower.

I’m starting to really like Billy but I have this weird thing about getting too attached to a guy. Especially with the assholes I’ve dated in the past. I’ve just been burned too many times although Billy seems different…

I don’t know…I just don’t want him to think I’m too clingy. Which I now realize is an oxymoron since we are literally in each other’s bodies.

Anyways enough about my feels.

Billy and I head back to my apartment.

“This place looks familiar,” says Billy sarcastically.

“It’s not much especially compared to your place but it’s my temporary home,” I say back.

“Ohhh come this isn’t bad at all!”

“Billy you’re in a full ass house,” I say rolling my eyes.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m just the rich privileged kid.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re at least aware,” I say pushing your shoulder.

“So what’s the game plan? Are we just gonna stand around in your apartment?”

“ No. I need the book that my great uncle left me.”

I head into my room and open up my closet. I grab the book from the top shelf.

“So Billy, are you ready to put your powers to test?”

“Geez, I think so.”

“Good!”

I start scrolling through the book digging for the part where it talks about the power of having to swappers.

“Here it is!”

I’d start skimming through it and get to a specific part.

I start reading aloud, “ one swapper is powerful, but their abilities can be limited… but with two swappers now that’s some real power. Rarely in our culture you will see two swappers who are capable of getting along… But if two swappers can conjoin powers together, they can do some really interesting things. For instance, swapping and creating a new reality . Two swappers have the ability to swap two individuals bodies, and change the perception of reality where both individuals think that the body they are in has always been their body. Essentially, neither one of them know that they are swapped and everyone else around them thinks that has been their body the whole time.”

I stopped reading for a second and look up a Billy to see what his thoughts were about what I just read.

“ are you gonna keep going?”

“ well yeah, what do you think though?”

“ I think that’s pretty freaking cool. I mean it could be a little bit messed up, but I’m kind of interested to try it.”

“ Really? Are you 100% sure?”

“ yeah let’s do it!”

I continue to read the rest of the page and I get through all of the instructions.

“ OK Billy, now we have to find some guinea pigs.”

“ I mean, should we start with someone we know or try it with a stranger first?”

“ Well I think I controlled environment would be best. Somewhere where we cant let them walk away and lose them immediately after the swap.”

“Smart!”

“ I’m a genius right? Also, Billy, this doesn’t have to be the first one we try.”

“Wait, what else can two swappers do?”

“Do you want me to tell you about all the other swap powers or can I jump right to the one I really want to try?”

"HOW MANY MORE ARE THERE?!?"

"Let's start with this one, third party possession. Or I like to call it-- a person puppet. Basically one of us can take over someone body without leaving the one we are in habiting. It's like two bodies at once."

"Does that person know that you or I have taken over their body?"

"No... I have read this one over a couple of times now. Basically they will be in a unaware state while one of us are in control."

"Okay, I guess that one sounds less chaotic. Who should we try it on?"

I thought about it for a minute and then I had someone in mind. I peaked out at the window to see if my neighbor was home.

"I got someone who could work," I say with a mischievous grin.

“Who?”

“My neighbor Reid, you’ll like him or at least his body lol.”

“Wait am I going to possess him?!?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it.”

“Fuck, fine! Let’s do this!!”

I grab Billy’s or I guess my hands and say, “I want you to focus. Thinking about all of your powers almost like you’re about to swap with someone, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Now close your eyes and picture a part of yourself floating out of my body, not all of yourself… just a part.”

“Okay…”

“Can you see it?”

It takes a minute for Billy to focus but then I see our hands and they start glowing a bit.

“I can see it,” he says softly.

“Great, now picture that second half of you floating out the window to the house door.”

Billy’s closed eyes move shut.

“I’m in the neighbor’s house… I can see everything inside. Wait, I hear someone… sleeping… now I’m in his room. Holy shit! I can see him!!”

“Really?!? Now Billy this is what you’re going to do next, float into him. Doesn’t matter how you do it.”

Billy’s eyes spring open and he says, “I’m in him. I feel his body… it’s so strange Sam. I’m him and I’m me.”

“Well come on over lol!”

“Okay one sec.”

A few minutes later and our front door swings open. It’s my neighbor’s body.

“What’s up you sexy fellas!!”

I turn to Billy and then back at Reid’s body as they are both grinning cheek to cheek.

I watch as Billy coordinates Reid’s body over to a chair.

“Look at these muscles Sam!,” says Reid’s body

“Fuck this is so hot! I’m watching myself control him, it’s like I can do some kind of strange role play. Wait a minute!!”

Reid’s body tugs off his tank top and then his shoes and socks.

He stares down at the giant feet and says, “they’re big.”

I watch as he picks up foot and smells it. He rubs Reid face all over his massive foot.

“This is so wrong but I’m so turned on. You’re gonna either have to watch or join us.”

Billy still in my body walks over to the giant hunk and reaches into his shorts.

They say in unison, “that feels good.”

I was starting to get hard just watching both bodies interact. Billy started running my hands over Reid’s muscles.

He pulls off Reid shorts and underwear. His dick comes out and both of us marvel at the giant cock.

“Let’s take turns with it,” he says from Reid’s body. “Shit I meant to say that from your body!”

We both laugh and I say, “All good lol, bedroom?”

“Great idea! You fellas are gonna have fun with me aren’t you? Especially this giant cock!,” says Reid’s body standing up while shaking his dick.

“Yes sir,” I say to him.

Billy picks me up in Reid’s arms and carries me to my bed.

We all three climb in and Billy asks me, “could you tend Reid’s junk.”

“Sure!!”

I grab onto the massive dick girthy dick. It’s surprising to see just how big it is.

“Are you gonna just stare it or suck it?,” says Reid’s body.

I turn to Billy down by Reid’s feet. He’s giggling and says, “sorry, I have two hard dick right now!”

I try to take as much of Reid’s I could fit in my mouth. It’s just so big. I get the entire thing wet and use a hand to work the shaft and his big hairy balls.

Billy on the other hand pulls off my pants and begins using Reid’s feet for a foot job.

Both of them moan in unison and say, “FUCK! You have no idea how amazing this feels!!”

I pump Reid’s dick faster and faster…

Both of them moan louder and louder….

Billy in my body reaches up under his ass cheeks and fondles his my body’s cock for me.

“LET ME FINISH IN MY MOUTH PLEASE SAM!,” he screams out.

I’m forcing Billy’s throat down on Reid’s dick.

Both of them scream out, “FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!”

That’s when rounds of cum squirt down my throat. It fills my throat and I can’t take anymore.

I look down at Reid’s dick and it’s still pouring more and more out.

Billy in my body cums all over Reid’s feet both of them grinning.

I fall back on the bed and both my body and Reid’s body with Billy still in control use themselves to give me every inch of pleasure.

Billy in my body climbs to my face and start making out. He twist’s his actual body’s sensitive nipples. Meanwhile Reid’s body sucking me off and tickling Billy body’s ballsack.

I can’t only take so much before I blew my load into Reid’s mouth…

All three or two… I don’t know… we just lay back cuddled up.

I turn to Billy in my body and say, “That was amazing.”

Billy grins and says, “we are definitely going to try this again!”

[wonderjanga]

idea: billy keeping Important League Stuff in miss bambis apartment for safekeeping cuz the rock of eternity has WAY too much evil stuff, and now all the magic users think that miss bambis magic-catwoman

Miss Bambi: “Billy, whats that?”

Billy: “Space cancer in a bottle!”

Miss Bambi: “Oh… I see.” *takes a drag of her cigarette* “Well, put it with the others.”

Billy: “Thanks, Miss Bambi!” *runs in and puts it with the other bottles full of space cancer*

William Joseph Batson is the World’s Mightiest Mortal. He’s also a 12-year-old boy who doesn’t have many adults in his life that he trusts. That’s why he leaves highly dangerous mission stuff with Miss Bambi. Because he trusts her. Also because he doesn’t think he should have a bunch of dangerous stuff in the Rock. Some of it should be in other places.

Anyways, other magicians who visit Fawcett all get concerned whenever they pass by a shitty apartment complex that has a bunch of evil and negative magic radiating from it. Specifically a single apartment.

This is the apartment complex I told you about.

Marvel: *staring at the building, thinking they know* “I see… and why are we here?”

Random Magician: “Wha- because there’s a bunch of evil magic practically oozing from it!”

Marvel: “And?”

Random Magician: “And what! That person could be extremely dangerous!”

Marvel: “I assure you, they’re not.”

Random Magician: “Yes they are! Magic can only become this bad through numerous evil rituals and sacrifices and spells!”

Marvel: “Look, just trust me, okay? It’s nothing.”

That magician did in fact, not trust him, and instead went to go check out the location of the source of the evil magic.

Random Magician: “Who’re you??”

Miss Bambi: “You can call me Bambi.” *looks them up and down judgmentally* “Are you one of Billy’s friends?”

Random Magician: *doesn’t know Billy is Cap* “No?”

Miss Bambi: “Oh.” *slams the door in their face*

The magic user eventually tried to suddenly ask about her and this Billy character.

Marvel: “That’s uh… My name?”

The magic user proceeded to go and tell everyone they knew because what the heck? This random, potentially very evil lady knows the champions real name? Also, the Champion’s name is Billy??

That’s how the “Oh, she must be magical Catwoman” thing cropped up.

From then on, they all had utmost respect for her cause the Champion is insanely powerful, so by stealing from the Rock of Eternity of all places that means she has to be pretty powerful herself. There’s also the fact that they can sense almost no magic from her so clearly she must be at least skilled to hide it that well.

Every single wizard that is evil is trying to curry to her favor.

Evil Magician: *looking extremely suspicious* “Mistress Bambi-”

Miss Bambi: “I told you weirdos not to call me that.”

Evil Magician: “-I have come to tell you about a special artifact that I think will interest you. It’s the eye of the Bermuda Triangle.”

Miss Bambi: *smoking, looking at them like they’re an idiot* “Yeah… Thanks…”

Evil Magician: “Your welcome, mistress-”

Miss Bambi: “Again, told you not to call me that.”

Later…

Miss Bambi: *chilling outside the apartment complex*

Billy: *jogging over so he can go inside

Miss Bambi: “Hey, Billy!”

Billy: “Yes, Miss Bambi?”

Miss Bambi: “Another one of those creeps came around and told me about some Eye of the Bermuda Triangle?”

“Another evil artifact? Dang. Well, I’ll hop to it! Thanks, Miss Bambi!”

See, the unfortunate thing is that an evil magician would tell Bambi about an evil artifact, and then Billy would go search for it and then give it to her for safekeeping. So they’d think she stole it, which would continue to feed the magical Catwoman rumors.

By the way, all the artifacts besides the ones that sound explicitly dangerous like the space cancer and a bottle, or just scattered about her apartment. Like, she has multiple evil pendants hanging from her ceiling fan because they look pretty and add to the ambience. She has an evil magic tome under one of the legs of her coffee table, so it keeps balance. She does not care.

Also, John Constantine eventually met her, and they vibe.

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 4)

The final two weeks before Agatha moves to Albany

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of sex, fluff

The following Sunday, Agatha drives you to Albany so you can look at apartments with her. She found three online that she really likes and is hoping that she can sign a lease today. 

Since her new job starts next week. 

You’ve never exactly known what she does for a living — you never really cared to ask when she was married to your dad and once you got together, she just kind of assumed that you already knew — so you have to ask about three times for what this new position entails so you can try to work it out. 

So far you’ve gotten that she advises the company on how to raise capital, financial modeling, legal and compliance issues, and general advice. She did try to explain what she does when you found her looking over a contract one night, but it went so far over your head you didn’t realize she had stopped talking until she kissed you to bring you back to earth. Agatha did say investment banker once, but even with all the job descriptions, you’re still not sure you actually understand. 

“All right, here’s the first one,” she says, squeezing your hand that’s interlocked with hers over the center console, and parallel parking on the street in front of a high-rise building with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. You peer into the lobby to take in the crystal chandelier, dark floors, and mahogany wood panels on the wall by the elevator. “See, it’s not that bad of a drive. As long as you leave pretty early Saturday morning, you should be able to get here in under two hours.” 

You look at her and shoot her a smile. Agatha’s been overly nice to you the past week, telling you how pretty you are and how lucky she is and buying you flowers and cooking you all your favorite foods, so you’re trying to just sit back and appreciate it. 

She took the job. You told her it was okay. All that’s left to do is accept it. 

“It’s really nice,” you tell her, turning back to the building. “It’s in a good area, too.”

Agatha turns the car off and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Only about ten minutes from the office, so even better. And it’s not too far from the interstate for traveling to and from here.”

Another thing she’s been doing is talking about how much you’ll be able to come visit and vice versa. It should be reassuring, but it just feels like she’s overcompensating slightly to make the move sound better than it is. 

It’s not fair to still be upset because Agatha is trying. And you are feeling good about this, you feel secure that what you two have is real and strong, and you’re going to start working on your application to the University at Albany this week. If you get in, you’ll start in January, which really only means four months of long distance, and you know you’ll both make an effort to see each other on the weekends and during breaks. 

When you put it like that, the pit in your stomach lessens. Your tendency to overthink and blow up problems in your head is definitely something you need to work on. 

The moment you step out of the car, the first thing you notice is the smell, almost like rotting plants and sewage. You wrinkle your nose and Agatha walks around to you, the same expression on her face. 

“Think you’ll ever get used to that?” you joke and she solemnly shakes her head. 

“Guess I’ll just need to bury my nose into something else until I forget it,” she says with a wink and you laugh before following her up to the glass door of the apartment complex. 

There’s a man sitting at a desk, maybe about ten years older than you and wearing a flannel shirt, typing something at his computer, and he doesn’t look up at you until Agatha clears her throat and taps her fingers on the counter. 

He raises a bushy eyebrow, unimpressed and annoyed that someone dared interrupt him. “Can I help you?” 

Agatha tosses her hair back over her shoulder and straightens up. “My name is Agatha Harkness and I made an appointment to see a two-bedroom.” 

The man sighs and taps his mouse. “Yo, Dottie,” he calls, swiveling in his chair to face an open door to the right of him, “I’ve got a ‘Harkness’ here to see the two.” Whoever Dottie is, you hope she’s friendlier than this man. Even his mustache seems to be frowning at you. 

A tall, blonde woman steps out of the room, beaming brightly at you two, wearing a brightly colored floral dress. She walks around the desk, shakes both your hands, and introduces herself. 

“Wonderful, wonderful,” she claps her hands together and you wince at the loud sound in the otherwise-silent lobby, “let me get the keys and then I’ll show you and your daughter the model apartment on the seventh floor and then the one that’s open, which could be yours! We also have some specials on leases if you sign one within twenty-four hours of your tour, which I’ll go over after this.” 

Dottie waves you along and you catch Agatha’s eye behind her back, mouthing your daughter? at her with an amused smirk. Agatha playfully rolls her eyes and swats your arm. 

You still remember the first time she took you out in the spring, when the waitress had assumed you were a couple. You had choked and almost died from coughing so hard, flabbergasted at the thought that anyone would look at you two and see anything other than a mother and her daughter, even if she was your step-mom. 

But now, it kind of bugs you that someone does see you that way. You’re almost tempted to see what Dottie would say if you kissed Agatha or if Agatha squeezed your ass. 

Dottie’s rambling about the safety features of the elevator as she presses the button and you stare at the reflection of yourselves in the bronze doors, blurring the sound of her voice out. You watch Agatha nodding attentively and you probably should be paying attention, but you just can’t. 

Something about looking for apartments with Agatha seems so surreal. You had helped her pick out the one in Westview and it felt like you were picking out a place for the two of you, even knowing you were going to live at the dorms. 

But now, you’re picking it out for her and she’s breaking her lease on the apartment you shared. 

It’ll be back to being both of yours in January, you remind yourself. 

The elevator doors slide open and the three of you step into it, the tile a fancy black marble with gold cracks and the walls a dark wood with the top half covered in mirrors. Dottie touches the fob to a pad and then presses the button for seven. 

“It only lets you get to the floor that you live on, and the roof for the pool and the game room. We take our security very seriously,” she explains and Agatha hums before looking at you for your approval and you nod like you’ve been paying attention this whole time. 

She takes you down the hall and pauses in front of a door, fumbling with the key ring and then finally inserting one into the lock. She pushes it open and lets you and Agatha step in first. 

The floor is a cool gray color, all white walls except for the blue accent in the living room, and it’s pretty spacious. The kitchen has an island with quartz countertops that match the other counters against the wall, all stainless steel appliances, a double oven, and a hood over the stove. The backsplash is green and blue and gray tiles. There’s a deep sink and three pendant lights over the island.  You have to admit it looks really good.

“Wow,” Agatha says, tracing her fingers over the countertop and crossing the threshold into the living room, where the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city of Albany. It’s the model, so there’s comfortable-looking couches around a coffee table and a rug, facing a television on an entertainment center. Even with all the furniture, it’s easy to imagine exactly where Agatha’s stuff would go. 

You follow her into the first bedroom, the bigger one. It has the same windows as the living room and your only thought is that Agatha will certainly need to invest in some curtains if she picks this place. It’s a huge room; Dottie tells you that the bed in there is king-sized and there is still plenty of space for the nightstands and lamps and dressers. The walk-in closet is probably half the size of your dorm room right now, and there’s a standalone shower next to a tub across from the double vanity in the bathroom. 

“This is nice,” Agatha whistles and you nod your head in agreement. 

“Let me show you the other bedroom,” Dottie says and leads you to the other half of the apartment. “This door closes off the hallway to the second bed and bath, so plenty of privacy. Will your daughter be living with you?” 

It’s hard not to laugh when you and Agatha glance at each other out of the corner of your eyes. “Um, no, I go to college in New Jersey. But I’ll be visiting a lot,” you answer, and then, just for the fun of it, add: “How thick are the walls, though? Like, apartment to apartment.” 

Agatha stifles a laugh that turns into a cough and Dottie looks back over her shoulder. “We don’t get a lot of noise complaints. If you’re worried about the TV being too loud, it shouldn’t be a problem because the living room is in the middle of the two bedrooms. But if you’re watching something in either bedroom, there’s a chance a neighbor might be able to hear a bit of it.” 

“That’s exactly what I was worried about,” you mumble and Agatha nudges you, even though she’s smirking too. 

The second bedroom is a bit smaller than the other, but still a good size. This one has a window-sill and only one long window and the closet is only about half as big. The bathroom has an alcove tub and matching countertops to the other bathroom and a lot of cabinet space. 

Dottie also shows you the three extra closets for extra storage and then takes you to the empty apartment on the ninth floor. 

Agatha walks around, gesturing wildly with her hands and pointing out where things could go, while you trail after her like a lost puppy, occasionally adding a yeah and I like that and I think that’ll look really good. 

Seeing her plan the space feels like a hammer in your gut going it’s happening it’s happening it’s happening over and over again until it almost overwhelms you, but Agatha is so engaged in it that she doesn’t even notice. You’re being completely irrational. Everything is fine.

“So, what do you guys think?” Dottie asks when Agatha finally stops and comes to stand next to you as you’re leaning on the island and picking at your fingernails. She puts a hand on your lower back and you stiffen, eyes darting up to look at Agatha, who’s looking back at you inquisitively. 

“Could you give us a second, Dottie?” It’s clear from Agatha’s tone that it’s not a question and Dottie gives you both a tight smile before leaving the apartment. 

You rub your forehead, trying to stave off a headache you can feel slowly budding, and walk over to the windows. Her footsteps are soft and then she’s wrapping an arm around you to pull you into her and kiss your head. 

“You know what I’m thinking about?” she asks and you hum inquisitively. “Fucking you against these windows so anyone down below could look up and see how well you take me. See how good of a girl you are for me.” 

A burst of heat flashes through you but you smirk, not being able to pass up the opportunity to make a joke. “That’s quite an inappropriate thing to say to your daughter.” 

Agatha snorts. “Good thing Dottie isn’t here.” And then she softens against you. “Do you like this place?” 

You shrug. “It’s pretty nice. Aren’t we going to go look at the other places though?” It’s a stupid thing, but you feel like it’s not real until she signs a lease. And maybe you just want to keep it not real for a little bit longer. 

She makes an equivocal sound. “This one did look the nicest online. And honestly, I really like it. I can definitely see myself living here. I can see us living here.” 

“Okay,” you say softly, melting on the inside. As long as she’s picturing you here with her, you’d be good with anywhere. “I think this is the place, then. Let’s go tell Dottie, mommy.” You go to move but instead, she turns you by the shoulders and grabs your cheeks, pulling you in for a long kiss and then gives you another one for good measure. 

“You are so perfect,” she says against your lips. “I l—” 

The door opens and you jump back from Agatha and whirl to find Dottie standing there. Your cheeks heat up, but she doesn't look scandalized so you’re guessing she didn’t see anything. “How’s it going in here, ladies?” 

Agatha gives you one last look-over, giving you all the time in the world to object, but you just swallow hard and nod. “Dottie, we’ll take it,” she says and you plaster a smile onto your face when Dottie gasps and exclaims excitedly. 

She ushers you back to the lobby and leaves you sitting at a desk while she runs off to go print out papers. You’re tapping your foot impatiently when your phone buzzes. 

Thinking it’s just one of your parents — you didn’t actually tell either of them that you were going to New York — you pull it out of your pocket. 

Hey, it’s Carol. Want to get dinner tonight? You vaguely remember giving her your number the night of the party last week. You’ve only seen her once or twice since then and the first time, she asked how you were feeling, and the second time, she shot a finger gun at you. 

“Who’s Carol?” Agatha murmurs, having leaned over your shoulder. You fight the instinct to turn your screen and type back, Sorry, out of town tonight. Rain check? before slipping it back into your pocket. 

“Just this girl that lives in the dorms. She was the one who drove me to your place when I was hammered last Sunday.” 

“Ah.” She’s opening her mouth to say something else when Dottie comes back over and plops down a thick packet and starts rattling off the rules of the complex, the extra fees, and where to sign. Dottie says because you’re not living here full-time, you don’t have to fill anything out and you inwardly sigh in relief. 

Agatha barely looks at the papers before signing her name in big cursive letters and you can’t help but long for that kind of financial security and stability, where you don’t even have to worry about the cost of rent. When you do transfer and if you do end up living with her at any point, you know she won’t let you pay for anything, but you make a mental note to start looking at jobs, maybe even just part-time, so you can buy her things with your own money. 

“Perfect, let me just run a quick background check on you, make sure your credit is good, and then I’ll get back with you. And you want to move in…?” 

“Next Saturday would be great,” Agatha says and your foot starts bouncing even more erratically. Dottie leaves to go back into the office and Agatha’s head drops back to look up at the ceiling. “That means I need to set up electricity, water, internet, I need to schedule movers, I need to talk to my complex.” She groans and sits back normally, rubbing her face with her hands. 

You’ve done the whole moving thing a few times and it absolutely sucks so you reach over to pat her leg. It’s the first time you’ve seen her even the slightest bit overwhelmed with all this and it’s honestly refreshing. “I’m here. Anything you need, I want to help.” 

She gratefully smiles and leans across her chair to give you a kiss on the head. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Um, you married my dad.” Agatha wrinkles her nose but laughs anyway, resting a hand on top of yours that’s still on her thigh. It’s an anchor for both of you and neither of you move until Dottie comes back about five minutes later. 

“All right, you guys are all good! We will see you next week. Any more questions?” 

Agatha stands up and shakes Dottie’s hand. “I think we’re okay. Thank you so much for all your help.” 

The drive back to Westview is filled with mindless chatter and no mention of the move. You make plans for the week — you’ll stay with Agatha every night, she’ll cook dinner, movie night on Tuesday, picnic in the park on Thursday. She knows that school is starting to pick up for you, so it goes unspoken that you’ll be doing homework with her. 

“And of course, plenty of sex,” you add when she asks you if there’s anything else to plan for. 

“Oh, sorry, was that not implied?” Agatha simpers and her hand sneaks its way into your lap, dipping under the seat belt to play with the elastic of your leggings. 

You let her slide inside and let out a small moan when she brushes a finger against your clit through your underwear. “Better keep your eyes on the road, mommy,” you say tightly.

“I can multitask.” 

She rubs your clit and you shift in your seat to give her easier access to you. It’s an odd angle — her wrist is bent in a way that is surely uncomfortable — but Agatha is determined to make it work. She teases you slowly and before long, you can feel how wet you’ve become. Your breathing has deepened, cheeks hot, and you start to roll your hips to get more stimulation. 

“Mommy, please,” you beg, and she looks over at you to say something when the car in front of her stops suddenly. Your stomach lurches. “Watch out!” 

Agatha slams on the brakes, sending you both flying forward, the seat belt putting an immense amount of pressure on you, and she yanks her hand out of your pants to put her arm in front of you. 

The car screeches to a halt about two feet from the one in front of you. You’re both panting and Agatha tosses her hair back before assessing you. 

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. You nod, still gripped by a cold sweat. She takes a deep breath and puts both hands on the steering wheel when the cars begin to move again. “I think we’ll save car sex for another time.”

You huff out a laugh in agreement. “It went pretty well that one time. But we were in a parking lot on the way to get pizza in rural New Jersey, not on an interstate in New York.” 

“Who would’ve thought there’s a big difference,” Agatha quips and the tension from almost getting into a wreck lifts the more she drives. You’re back to giggling and talking in no time, although you both keep your hands to yourself. 

The rest of the day passes quickly, with Agatha busy setting up everything she needs for her new apartment while you finish up some homework for the upcoming week. 

On Tuesday, you’re leaving your dorm after your third class of the day to go to Agatha’s for the night when you run into Carol. She brightens when you see her and you give her a quick smile, determined to keep moving. 

“Hey, where are you off to? You still owe me that dinner,” she says, catching you by the arm. 

“Yeah, sorry, this week is going to be a little tough,” you tell her apologetically. “My…girlfriend is moving on Saturday so I'm just trying to spend as much time with her as I can.” You’ve never really had to define your relationship with Agatha, but it seems natural to call her that. 

A stormy look flits across her face before she’s back to normal. “The same girlfriend who broke up with you?” 

You hadn’t exactly found the time to fill her in on the whole story. “Turns out she wasn’t cheating, it was me jumping to conclusions. She had a job interview in Albany and she got it! So she starts next Monday.” 

“Be careful with long distance,” Carol warns, instead of being happy for you like you thought she would be. You raise an eyebrow. “It always starts out so nice and happy and everything is okay…but then the distance sets in. Texting and calling aren’t the same as just being able to see them and talk to them in person. Traveling becomes exhausting. The traffic makes you mad and then you’re in a bad mood and you can only think about the drive back and—”

“Stop,” you snap, stepping away from her. This is possibly the worst thing you could hear right now and you can’t take it any longer. “That’s not how this is going to go, okay? Agatha and I are different. We’re solid. And besides, it’s probably only going to be like this for a few months. She trusts me and I trust her. We’re going to be fine.” 

Carol scoffs, a cold look in her eyes. “You trust her? Is that why you were so quick to believe she was cheating on you?” 

The blow knocks the wind out of you and you just stare at her blankly. Who the fuck does she think she is? 

She softens, realizing that she cut deeper than she intended to. “Shit, I’m sorry. This is your relationship and I should’ve stayed out of it — I’m sure you’re right, okay? You guys will be fine.” 

But you don’t want to hear anymore from her, so you turn on your heel and walk to your car. The rest of the night, you’re a bit out of it and you can’t stop cursing Carol for putting those thoughts in your head. 

The next few days fly by in a blur with classes and homework and avoiding Carol around campus, but your evenings are absolutely perfect with Agatha.

She keeps the light low in the kitchen while she cooks for you each night while you sit at the table and ramble on about whatever you’re learning. She hums at all the right times, but when you take a break to look up at her, she’s staring at you with a fondness in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

Each time it happens, you think it must be what love looks like. 

Growing up with parents that should’ve been divorced, you never had a good model for what love was. You used to think that everyone’s parents were like yours — cold, didn’t actually like each other, and just stayed together for their children. You thought that love meant complacency, or even that maybe there was no such thing as it. 

You weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to fall in love and be loved back. But with Agatha, there’s an intimacy your parents never had. You didn’t know what that was like until her. 

And you know that you love her more than anything in the entire world, and when she gives you that look, you think she might feel the same. 

The three words are constantly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you just can’t say them again. You don’t even say it when she makes you cum, which is a lot of times over the week. 

She bends you over the countertop and fingers you. She shoves you against the wall after you get back from your picnic on Thursday, gets on her knees, and eats you out. She makes you sit on her strap while you finish your essay and then pushes you onto all-fours and pounds into your pussy until you’re crying. She fucks you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the hallway, in the living room — even in her car and your car. Both while you’re safely parked in an abandoned lot, of course. 

It’s like she’s determined to give you as many orgasms as she can before she moves, and she’s doing an excellent job of it. 

Saturday, after everything gets moved into the new apartment and you’re finally done unpacking most of the stuff, Agatha takes you to a fancy Italian steakhouse in Albany. The atmosphere is romantic, with classical music playing softly and candles lit at every table. Agatha looks absolutely stunning in a tight black dress and curly hair, and you’re wearing your best outfit as well. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” she asks and your cheeks heat up as your head ducks down shyly. 

“Once or twice,” you answer coyly, finally meeting her gaze again. 

She holds out her hand across the table and you take it, feeling the normal electricity that her skin on yours always gives you. “We’re going to be okay, you know that, right? I know you’re more worried than you’re letting on. I know how you’re feeling — I know how easy it is to get swept away with doubts. But I really appreciate you telling me to take this job and I promise we’ll be okay. I care about you far too much to let anything happen to this.” 

You nod and squeeze her hand. “I do know. I feel the same.” 

“Oh — that reminds me. I got you something,” she says and digs around in her purse before pulling out a small black box with a red bow neatly wrapped around it and handing it to you. “You might want to open it beneath the table. Might be embarrassing if someone sees it.” 

Brows furrowing in confusion, you dip the box under the white tablecloth and undo the bow quickly before lifting off the lid. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shoot up to meet hers. 

“Agatha,” you hiss, flushing. 

Resting on stretched out cotton in the box is a small, purple vibrator, curved to be able to rest on your clit while also vibrating against your g-spot, with a gold engraving along the side that goes inside you: Mommy’s cunt. Your clit throbs.

She holds up what looks like a small key fob and presses a button and the toy starts vibrating. You drop the box into your lap while gaping at her and she smirks triumphantly. “Works from anywhere in the world,” she says casually and your stomach sears with heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” you rasp. You’re suddenly feeling very excited about this move. Something about the distance, about the anticipation and the teasing and the pining that it will bring, doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

Suddenly, the food can’t come fast enough and then you’re both in the car, Agatha speeding while you sit on your hands so you don’t distract her, and then she throws the car into park and you both race into her apartment. 

Her mouth finds yours the moment you step through the door, pushing you against the wall as a muffled oomph slips out of you, and she sucks on your tongue and then bites your bottom lip and then kisses her way down your neck. Your brain is going foggy and your underwear is soaked and you quickly tug her into the bedroom. 

Agatha tears off her dress and then pounces on you, knocking you onto your back on the bed, hands coming up to cup your breasts and you keen. 

“God, Agatha,” you groan and she scrapes her teeth against your neck. It’s so good, but it’s also your last night before everything changes. “Wait, fuck, stop.” 

She jumps back like she’s been burned. “What — is everything okay?” 

You nod, panting, and run your hands up and down her hips. “Yeah, everything’s great. I just…can we just cuddle tonight? I just want to be close to you.” 

Agatha runs her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes going glassy for a moment before she blinks, and she chokes out, “Of course, honey. Whatever you want.” 

Smiling gratefully, you take off your clothes and slide under the covers next to her so you can feel all of her warm skin against yours before she tucks an arm around you. You nuzzle into her body and your face twitches with restrained emotion. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you say softly and she presses a kiss to your head. “I know it’ll be okay though. I’m almost done with my application to the University at Albany.” 

She hums and kisses you again before breathing in your scent deeply like she’s making sure she doesn’t forget it. “I have no doubt you’ll get in. And then it’ll be us in our own little world.” 

“That’s right.” 

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, and eventually, Agatha’s breathing starts to even out. A quick glance up at her face confirms that she fell asleep. 

You know you should too, but you’re reluctant to let this moment go. Right now, it feels like you’re frozen in time, just the two of you. 

So you stay up as late as you can, just soaking in the feeling of her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg @m1vfs

[littleindulgences]

Your day was going pretty good for once, all things considered—you woke up feeling rested, it was your day off, you even finally managed to finish the errands you were forced to put off all week!

…Then you get home. Your fridge is dead.

Of course it is.

You stand in front of the open door with one hand on your hip, the other on your chin, contemplating when the fuck, how the fuck, this could have happened. Your fresh groceries sit on the counter behind you, stuff you just went out to get because you assumed your fridge would still be operational when you returned. It’s your fault, really, for putting the bar so high.

Finally, after a whole three minutes of bemoaning your luck, you resolve to pull out the old cooler you shoved into your closet and put everything that would turn into a food poisoning nightmare on ice. Once you get everything put away, and the puddles of water mopped up, you put in a maintenance order and pray the landlord actually sends someone this time.

You leave the cooler in the corner, crack open a bottle of wine, and mourn the loss of your good day.

A couple days pass and you forget all about the work order. You figured out the next morning that the fridge wasn’t dead after all, it just got unplugged…somehow. Just added fuel to your “the building is haunted” fire. You simply plugged the fridge back in and went about your life, no biggie.

It was a big biggie.

You’re just out fetching the mail when it happens.

“Hello? Maintenance! Is anyone home?” The gruff, deep voice carries easily down the hall. You don’t register it at first, flicking through your mail, until the voice calls out again: “Hello? Maintenance, comin’ in!”

Wait. Maintenance.

The fucking fridge!

You dash down the hall, practically skidding to a stop in front of your apartment where two large—and you mean large, damn—men hover.

You avoid looking them directly in the eye as your pulse throbs in your throat, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. You’re sure the whole hall must’ve heard them, fuck.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, awkwardly pushing yourself between the biggest man and your doorway. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing actually wrong, I fixed it already! There was nothing wrong with the fridge, it just came unplugged.” You force a laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. You still don’t look at them.

“‘S alrigh’ ma’am, no problem at all,” says the man, and wow his voice is nice—

“It’s just, there wasn’t a way for me to cancel the work order,” you explain. “I’m so sorry you had to come all the way up here.”

Oh God, what if they try to come inside to double check? You’re cursing yourself for picking today to go out in your house clothes—short shorts and a tank that doesn’t completely cover your stomach—but the building was always so hot and you would’ve melted if you stayed in your work uniform—

“It’s okay, ma’am, really,” he’s saying again, “We’re glad there’s not an issue. You live on the second floor with no elevators, we didn’t want to bring a new fridge up anyway.” You giggle for real this time.

Then you risk glancing up at them.

Oh God…

They’re fucking beautiful. The man in front of you—his name tag reads John—is an absolute bear. Thick and broad, covered with hair, smiling gently at you like he really doesn’t blame you for your mix-up. And the guy behind him, you think his tag says Kyle, could be a supermodel: smooth, dark skin, a little leaner than John but still mouthwatering. The lopsided grin he’s giving you makes your heart race. The cap he wears makes him look almost boyish.

“Right,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as breathless as you feel. “Sorry again.”

Kyle absently licks his lips and you think you might pass out.

“Here. In case something else happens, you can reach me directly.” John hands you a crisp business card, lingering just slightly when your fingers brush his. They’re rough. Makes sense.

“Thanks,” you breathe. Kyle looks at you like he’s suppressing a laugh, then taps John on the shoulder, signaling him to leave.

“Take care, love.” John turns away from you with a wink, and you watch his arm flex as he hoists his toolbag and follows Kyle to the staircase. Kyle waves cheekily back at you before he descends.

Once you’re safely inside the apartment, you bury your face in your hands with a deep groan. And if you already begin brainstorming other things that might mysteriously break in the near future, well, that’s your business.

@beloveds-embrace ✨

[sincerelybubbles]

the team noticing how comfortable shy bau reader has gotten with hotch and they all find it very sweet

Slipping Into the Light warnings: brief mentions of cannon typical violence paring: hotch x shy!bau!reader

||||

The bullpen is its usual brand of chaos—agents moving between desks, papers shuffling, the hum of conversation filling the air. It’s comfortable, routine. Nothing out of the ordinary.

At least, until she walks in.

The team barely notices at first, too caught up in their morning tasks, but then—then, something odd happens.

She walks past Hotch’s office, and without a second of hesitation, she reaches out and knocks twice against the open doorframe—light, quick, easy.

Hotch glances up from his paperwork, and instead of his usual curt nod or unreadable gaze, something soft crosses his face. It’s barely there, a flicker of warmth before he schools his expression. But it’s real.

And then—then—she says, “Morning, Hotch,” like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal.

Not Good morning, sir. Not a quiet, hesitant nod in passing. No, just Morning, Hotch, said with the kind of familiarity that suggests it isn’t the first time.

He returns it with a quiet, “Morning,” like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And that’s when the team starts paying attention.

Morgan’s head tilts up first, brows knitting together. Emily, mid-sip of her coffee, pauses with the cup just short of her lips. Reid frowns at the exchange like it’s a puzzle he hasn’t figured out yet. Rossi just smirks.

The door to Hotch’s office closes a moment later, and she moves toward her desk, entirely unaware of the looks being exchanged across the room.

Emily recovers first, setting her coffee down and leaning toward Morgan. “Morning, Hotch?”

Morgan shakes his head, almost in disbelief. “That’s not normal, right? She doesn’t talk to anyone like that. Not even me,” he points out, sounding offended. “And I’ve been workin’ on breaking her out of that shell for years.”

Reid blinks, clearly running through past conversations in his head. “She’s never greeted me like that before, either.”

“Or me,” Emily agrees, before throwing a glance toward Rossi. “You?”

Rossi just takes a slow sip of his coffee, unreadable.

“Something’s up,” Morgan mutters.

Emily hums in agreement. “Something.”

||||

It happens again the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

Each time, it’s something small—something easily overlooked if you aren’t paying attention. But they are paying attention. Because once profilers start noticing something, it’s impossible to stop. It becomes a game between Emily and Morgan, noticing the small ways you've warmed up to Hotch.

Easier smiles, passing him in the plane when you would usually wait for a larger gap, conversations continued when he walks into the room rather than screeching to a halt like before.

It's nothing massive to the untrained eye but, well, they are trained to notice breaks in patterns, to see when things change and how they do.

Like today.

Hotch walks into the bullpen, coffee in hand, heading straight for his office. Nothing unusual there. But as he passes by her desk, she glances up from her file, eyes flicking toward his cup.

“Did you eat?” she asks, casually—too casually.

Hotch slows just a fraction, just enough for the team to catch it. “Not yet.”

She hums, glancing at the time. “Bagel shop’s still open. They have fresh bread until nine.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hotch assures, but he lingers. Just for a second.

She gives him a pointed look before returning to her file. “Mm.”

That’s it. That’s the whole exchange. And yet—

Morgan immediately turns toward Emily. “You seein' this?”

Emily nods, hiding a grin behind her coffee. “Oh, I’m seeing it.”

Reid, who has been diligently pretending not to be part of this entire conspiracy, clears his throat. “I mean, she could just be concerned about his health?”

Morgan gives him a look as Emily snorts. “She’s never told us to eat.”

“She’s never told anyone to eat,” Morgan mutters, shaking his head. “Except Hotch, apparently.”

Spencer frowns slightly, watching as Hotch disappears into his office. Then he looks back at her, catching the way she glances one more time at the closed door before focusing back on her file.

“Okay,” he admits. “That was weird.”

“Thank you,” Emily says, throwing her hands up.

Morgan shakes his head, settling back into his chair. “I’m just saying, that’s not nothing.”

||||

It happens again later that evening, this time in the briefing room.

They’ve wrapped the case, a particularly grueling one, and now it’s the slow process of debriefing, paperwork, and waiting for the jet to be refueled in case they actually need it tomorrow - they've been able to help over the phone today but everyone is certain tomorrow will bring a tragedy the necessitates travel tomorrow or the day after. The team is scattered around the table—some flipping through reports, others making half-hearted attempts at conversation, everyone running on fumes.

She's tucked into the corner of the room, curled over a file, her pen tapping absently against the paper. If she stops moving, she’ll fall asleep. And she doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed about that.

The door opens, and Hotch steps in. The conversation dulls, but only slightly—it’s always like that when he walks in. Not because they’re afraid of him, but because his presence naturally shifts the atmosphere.

She barely looks up. “Coffee?” she asks, already moving to stand.

Hotch shakes his head. “I got it.”

She pauses, then settles back down, flipping a page. “Okay.”

That’s it. No hesitation, no stammering, no overthinking the fact that she offered in the first place. Just easy.

And that is very interesting.

Morgan narrows his eyes slightly, tilting his head as he watches her. It’s subtle—probably something even she hasn’t noticed—but there’s no way in hell he’s imagining it now.

The old her would’ve never spoken to Hotch without being spoken to first. Would’ve never offered him something so casually, so easily, like it was second nature.

And Hotch—

Hotch, who usually doesn’t acknowledge small gestures like this, doesn’t even bat an eye. Doesn’t make a comment, doesn’t pause, doesn’t do anything other than react without thought.

Which means this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

Emily catches Morgan’s look and raises a brow. You seeing this?

Morgan smirks. Oh, I’m seeing it.

They share a knowing glance, and then—just to test the waters—Emily leans forward, setting her elbows on the table.

“Hey, Hotch,” she says casually. “Since you’re already up, can you grab me one too?”

Hotch glances at her, then at Morgan, who looks far too interested in his answer. He exhales sharply, amused but unamused, and turns toward the door.

“No.”

Morgan barks out a laugh, and Emily grins, triumphant.

And in the corner, she remains blissfully unaware, still flipping through her file, still tapping her pen, still completely oblivious to the way the entire team is slowly piecing this together.

||||

The next moment happens in Rossi’s office.

She hadn’t meant to end up here. It’s late, past the point of pretending she’s being productive, but she told herself she’d finish one more report before heading home. Somewhere along the way, she’d wandered, coffee in hand, and now she’s leaning against Rossi’s doorway, blinking sluggishly at him as he flips through a leather-bound journal.

“Long day?” he asks without looking up.

She nods, then remembers he’s not looking. “Yeah.”

He hums, setting the journal aside. “And yet, you’re still here instead of going home. Or is it that you don’t want to go home?”

“I was going home,” she argues, though they both know she’s lying. “I just… got distracted.”

Rossi leans back, eyeing her with the kind of gaze that makes it impossible to lie. Not that she’s in the habit of lying to him—especially since he’s usually at least five steps ahead of her anyway.

She glances at the clock. 10:42 PM. She exhales through her nose, rolling her lips together.

“You should get some sleep,” he says, but there’s something else in his tone. A lilt. An implication.

She squints at him. “Why do you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you know something.”

Rossi shrugs. “I know a lot of things.”

“Right,” she mutters, narrowing her eyes.

He’s enjoying this. That much is clear. She doesn’t know what he’s enjoying yet, but she’s sure he’ll make her figure it out on her own.

And then—

“Oh.” She blinks. “Wait. No.”

Rossi smirks.

Her stomach flips. “You know?”

He doesn’t answer, just reaches for his glass of scotch, taking a slow, measured sip.

She feels heat creep up her neck, spreading across her cheeks.

He knows.

Which means Hotch told him.

Which means Hotch talked about it.

Which means—

“Relax,” Rossi drawls, interrupting her impending spiral. “It’s not like he gave me a play-by-play. He just mentioned you two had dinner.” He pauses, then grins. “And that it went well.”

She shifts her weight, suddenly too aware of herself. Oh.

It’s not that she thought Hotch would keep it a secret forever, but hearing that he’d told Rossi, that he’d spoken about it in any capacity, makes it feel… real.

More real than the way her heart stuttered when Hotch had smoothed a hand over hers at dinner. More real than the quiet, steady confidence he’d had in their them-ness while she was still fumbling over the weight of it.

Rossi watches her carefully, still amused but softer now. “You okay?”

She nods, pressing her lips together. “Yeah. I just—”

She gestures vaguely, words failing her.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Go home,” he says again, more insistent this time. “And tell Aaron I said you’re welcome.”

She sputters, eyes wide, and Rossi just laughs, already reaching for his journal again.

She doesn’t know if she’s embarrassed or endeared, but as she slips out of his office, warmth tucked into her chest, she thinks maybe it’s a little bit of both.

||||

The moment is small. Blink and you’d miss it.

Hotch is standing by the coffee maker in the break room, pouring himself a cup. She wanders in a moment later, her movements unhurried, her posture looser than usual. The case they’d just wrapped had been rough, but the team was back home, safe, and exhaustion was settling in around all of them like a thick fog.

She steps beside him, reaching for the sugar, only to find his hand already on it.

She blinks up at him.

Hotch smirks, just barely. “You were going to put in two scoops.”

Her eyes narrow. “And?”

He hands her the spoon, ignoring the way the corner of his mouth twitches. “And you always complain that it makes the coffee too sweet.”

She exhales, glaring at him for being right, and scoops one spoonful instead.

“You should get your own coffee if you’re just going to judge mine.”

“I was here first,” he reminds her. "Making my own coffee, not yours."

“I was letting you make mine for me.”

The words are out before she fully registers them, her lips parting slightly at the realization.

Across the room, Morgan and JJ freeze mid-conversation.

Hotch stills, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around the handle of his mug. He watches her, slow and appraising, and then—

He leans in. Not much, but just enough. “You've got me there. Here." Slowly, he places the cup in her hand, a spoonful and a half of sugar poured in, slowly curling her fingers around the mug for her. Pleased at the reaction he so easily brings forth.

And then he walks out, leaving her standing there, fingers curled around her coffee cup, ears burning.

Morgan lets out a low whistle. “Damn.”

JJ, still wide-eyed, elbows him. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Morgan mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did you see that? She flirted back.”

JJ presses her lips together, fighting a grin. "Still, not our business." She insists, despite the way warmth curls in her stomach at the thought.

||||

The jet hums beneath them, a steady, soothing vibration. The case had been long and brutal, but it was over, and they were finally on their way home. The team was scattered around the cabin—Morgan and Emily playing cards, JJ half-dozing with her headphones in, and Rossi nursing a glass of something dark.

And her?

She was sitting stiffly in her seat, her arm propped awkwardly against her side, doing a terrible job of pretending she wasn’t in pain.

The gash on her ribs wasn’t deep. She’d already been patched up at the local hospital—stitched, bandaged, and thoroughly instructed to take it easy. But “take it easy” apparently translated to everyone treating her like she was made of glass.

Emily had tried to grab her go-bag for her earlier.

Morgan had asked if she wanted him to get her a drink—when had he ever done that before?

Even Spencer had hovered like a worried sibling, his gaze flicking toward her every few minutes like he was expecting her to keel over.

She could deal with that. What was harder to deal with was the fact that Hotch hadn’t said anything at all.

Not until now.

“You need to rest,” his voice cut through the low hum of conversation, steady, sure.

She looked up from her untouched cup of tea to see him standing in front of her, arms crossed, expression unreadable to anyone who wasn’t her.

She sighed. “I’m fine, Hotch.”

“You’re in pain,” he countered, not unkindly.

“I’m always in pain after a case,” she pointed out, arching a brow.

His lips twitched in a way that was almost—but not quite—a smile. “This is different.”

He knew. Of course, he knew. She should have expected that.

Her shoulders eased just a little. “I just don’t want everyone fussing over me.”

“They’re only fussing because they care.”

She couldn’t argue with that. But still, she rolled her eyes, shifting slightly in her seat—only to wince when the movement tugged at her stitches.

Hotch sighed and sat beside her. “Case in point.”

She huffed, tilting her head back against the headrest, aware of the small, knowing glances being exchanged around the cabin. No one said a word, but she felt it—the way the energy shifted.

Like they were all watching something unfold, something inevitable.

She kept her gaze on Hotch. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.” His voice softened just enough to make her chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with her injury.

And despite the pain, despite the exhaustion pressing down on her limbs, she found herself... warm.

Because he knew her. Knew when to push and when to step back. Knew how much she hated being coddled, but also knew exactly when she needed to be told to stop pretending she was fine.

It wasn’t suffocating.

It was steady.

It was him.

||||

The bar was too loud, too dimly lit, too full of bodies swaying and pressing together in a way that made her head ache.

She’d never wanted to come, not really. But Morgan had a way of making things sound like a good idea until she was already in them, halfway slumped over a sticky bar top, nursing a drink she barely had the energy to lift.

"You look like you’re about to pass out," Morgan teased, leaning his elbow against the bar beside her.

"Probably," she murmured, not even pretending to refute it.

She was wrecked. The case had been long and grueling, every hour stretching into the next with little more than caffeine and sheer willpower keeping her upright. When Morgan had invited her out, she hadn’t been sure why she said yes—maybe just to avoid thinking too hard about things.

But now, with exhaustion weighing her down and the music pounding too loudly in her ears, she wished she’d just gone home.

Morgan nudged her shoulder. "Alright, lightweight. You eat anything today?"

The question barely registered before she answered, too tired to filter her words. "I had dinner in Hotch's office."

It was out before she could stop it.

Morgan blinked. Then grinned.

"Ohhhh," he drawled, sitting up straighter, eyes lighting up in that way that meant trouble. "That’s why you two have been acting different lately."

She frowned, sluggish. "What?"

"Come on, don’t play coy now. Dinner? With Hotch? In his office? That’s why you’ve been all up in each other’s space. I knew something was up!"

Oh, God.

Her stomach plummeted, warmth flooding her face so fast she thought she might actually faint. "Morgan," she hissed, suddenly far more awake. "I—I didn’t mean—"

"You totally meant," he cut in, smug as hell.

She buried her face in her hands, groaning. "You tricked me into coming here. I’m too tired for this interrogation."

"You’re too tired to lie," he countered, tapping the bar. "And that’s the best time to get the truth."

She let out a long, slow breath, willing herself to cool down, to deflect, to not make this worse. But Morgan was already grinning like he’d won something, like he had all the confirmation he needed.

He leaned in conspiratorially. "So, how was dinner?"

She didn’t even bother answering. Instead, she waved down the bartender. "Two shots, please."

Morgan laughed, clinking his glass against hers when they arrived. "Now that is an answer."

||||

"I'm so sorry," she groans, squeezing her eyes closed against the admission.

Hotch has the nerve to laugh, covering his face with his hand. Red peers up and over his palm where it covers his expression. "I'm not mad," he insists, "just very amused."

"How is this amusing?" She asks, exasperated, turning to pace across his office.

"I've been opening flirting with you for months, almost a year. It's been a running joke, darling. It's amusing because you're only just now getting the heat for it. For reciprocating it."

"Reciprocating!" She exclaims, injust.

"Oh, are you not? Should I clear my calendar for tomorrow, then, cook for just me and Jack?"

She scowls, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "No," she pouts, voice near a whine. "I just thought you didn't want the team to know anything was up."

"Oh, so something's up between us now?"

Leave it to him to use this moment to tease you, of course. When she first joined the team, Hotch was broody and withdrawn. It hadn't taken long for her to see his exterior crack, the flaws shining beneath.

He appears as a rule follower, a stickler for what's right and just, but he constantly bends for his team, for the victims, for children. And now, for you, he bends so far from that rigid form people perceive him in she has difficulties seeing his stiffness anymore.

Still, moments like these shock her. Aaron Hotchner is a flirt and an expert one at that.

"Maybe!" She concedes, too flustered to wiggle her way out of his trap. "That's not the point."

"I think that's exactly the point." Hotch catches her wrist, halting her pacing. "But it's okay. I don't mind the others knowing that 'something's up' with us."

"Oh my god," she groans, heat in her face nearly as brilliant as her smile.

[luvst4rc0r3]

Loser!Jinx x Reader Headcanons

Jinx wasn’t just a loser—she was the loser. The kind who sat in the back of the class doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes, who always had a random bruise from doing something stupid, and who somehow had a negative GPA but could explain the entire plot of an obscure 90s anime no one had ever heard of.

She wasn’t exactly hated at school, but she was weird, loud, and unpredictable, which made people avoid her. Except for Vi, who was always yelling at her to “Get your shit together, Powder,” and Sevika, who only tolerated her because Vi forced her to.

Then there was you.

The first time Jinx saw you, she short-circuited. She was just trying to make it through another miserable day of Algebra when you walked into the classroom, and suddenly, math didn’t exist anymore. All she could think was:

“Oh no.”

You were effortlessly cool—new to school, good at everything Jinx wasn’t, and way out of her league. But you were nice. Too nice. The kind of nice that made Jinx go home and kick her feet while screaming into her pillow because why would you ever talk to her unless you were planning to ruin her life?

- The first time you talk to her, it’s because you sit next to her in Algebra.

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, panicking: “Wh—uh—I—yeah—no—I mean—” (frantically digs through her backpack, pulls out a crayon).

You: “…Thanks?”

Jinx: “Yeah! Totally! I only use crayons, actually. Pencils are a government conspiracy.”

You: “Oh? Tell me more.”

She thinks you’re messing with her. But you don’t laugh. You actually listen. And when she rants about whatever nonsense is currently living rent-free in her head, you just nod along like she’s making sense.

She falls in love immediately.

- Jinx is the type of loser who spends all her time online, plays obscure indie games, and has a concerning amount of conspiracy theories about random things (like why the school vending machine is always out of strawberry soda).

- She is hopelessly, painfully, pathetically in love with you. Like, full-blown kicking her feet and giggling into her pillow kind of crush. She doesn’t even try to be normal about it.

- If you so much as glance in her direction, her brain short-circuits. Immediate blue screen of death. Malfunctioning Jinx noises.

- She swears she’s being subtle, but the entire school knows she’s down horrendously bad for you. Like, it’s embarrassing. Vi has tried to stage an intervention. Sevika has bet money on how long it’ll take before she faints in front of you.

- If you actually talk to her? Oh, she’s done for. Stammering, tripping over her words, probably dropping whatever she’s holding. You could ask her the simplest question, and she’d be like:

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, sweating bullets: “Uh—uh—uh—uh—I—pen—yes—no—I mean—I do? Maybe? What’s a pencil?”

- She definitely stalks your social media. She has your entire posting schedule memorized, knows all your interests, and tries to bring them up in conversation to impress you—but it just makes her sound insane.

Jinx: “Soooo… I heard you like frogs.”

You: “What?”

Jinx: “Uh. Frogs. Y’know. Ribbit.”

- If you compliment her, even as a joke, she will take it to her grave. Like, you could say, “Hey, cool jacket,” and she’ll wear that same jacket every day for a month straight.

- One time you called her cute. She has not recovered.

- She tries to act cool around you, but she’s the type of loser who fumbles everything. Drops her phone. Walks into doors. Trips over air. It’s a miracle she hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

- If you so much as smile at her, she’s writing about it in her diary like it’s the most life-changing event to ever happen.

“FEBRUARY 8TH, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N SMILED AT ME. I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.”

or

“February 8th, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N TOUCHED MY ARM. I CAN NEVER WASH IT AGAIN.”

- Jinx, in her head, planning out all the ways she could confess to you: Writing you a love letter? Making a mixtape? A grand, romantic gesture?

- Jinx, in reality: “I like your face.”

- If you start liking her back? Oh, she’s doomed. Malfunctioning. Exploding. Game over.

People still don’t understand how you two work, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You and Jinx are in your own little world, and honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

- You keep hanging out with her. At first, just in class, but then at lunch, after school, texting late at night. She stops feeling like a loser when she’s with you. She starts hoping.

- The first time you realize you like her back, it’s because of something dumb.

You’re at lunch, sitting with her, Vi, and Sevika. Jinx, being a disaster, spills her drink all over herself. Instead of being embarrassed, she just goes, “Guess I’m drinking it the hard way.”

And something about the way she owns her weirdness makes your heart do a stupid little flip.

- The first time you flirt with her, she malfunctions.

- The first time she realizes you like her back, it breaks her brain.

It happens after school. You’re both walking home together when you grab her hand, lacing your fingers through hers like it’s nothing.

She nearly trips over her own feet. You just laugh and squeeze her hand tighter.

Oh no, she thinks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She’s never going to recover from this.

(She doesn’t want to.)

Random Cute Couple Things:

- Jinx is the kind of girlfriend who will 100% steal your clothes.

Not just hoodies—everything. She once showed up wearing your jacket, your socks, and your backpack, and when you pointed it out, she just went, “Yeah, and?”

The worst part? She looks stupidly cute in your clothes, so you can’t even be mad.

(You started “accidentally” leaving extra hoodies at her place just so she’d always have one of yours to wear.)

- She gets insanely clingy when she’s sleepy.

Jinx isn’t really a cuddler during the day—she’s always bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble, dragging you into her weird ideas. But the second she gets tired?

Good luck getting up.

She’ll wrap herself around you like a human koala, mumbling something about how “you’re warm and smell good” and refusing to let go.

(You’ve accepted your fate. You live here now.)

- She makes the dumbest bets just to get kisses.

• “Bet you can’t solve this riddle. If you lose, I get a kiss.

• “If I make this paper ball into the trash can, you have to kiss me.”

• “Okay, rock-paper-scissors, best out of three—winner gets a kiss.”

You caught on pretty quickly and just started kissing her before she could suggest a bet. It completely breaks her brain every time.

(She still tries, though.)

- She doodles all over your stuff.

If you lend Jinx a pen, it’s over—your notebooks, your arms, even your homework will be covered in little scribbles.

Sometimes they’re just random sketches. Other times, you’ll find little hearts with your name inside them.

(She denies drawing them. But the blush on her face says otherwise.)

- She absolutely loves when you play with her hair.

She pretends she doesn’t care at first—shrugs it off, acts like it’s whatever. But the second you start running your fingers through her hair, she literally melts.

(If you braid it, she’ll leave it in all day, even if it looks ridiculous.)

- She’s always touching you.

• Holding your hand? Obviously.

• Leaning against you when you’re sitting together? Yup.

• Linking pinkies just because she can? Of course.

It’s like she needs to be physically connected to you at all times.

(If you ever pull away too soon, she’ll dramatically gasp and go, “What, you don’t love me anymore?!”)

- She makes up the dumbest excuses just to hang out with you.

“Babe, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love Jinx

I want sleep

[cheeseatlantic]

i want his ass

MDNI!! (photo creds to @ave661)

OVERDRIVE

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem reader

The night is still electric, the lingering scent of fuel and asphalt mixing with the crisp air. Your body hums with adrenaline, muscles tight from gripping him too hard during the ride, thighs still buzzing from where they pressed against the sleek body of the motorcycle. Ghost killed the engine minutes ago, but the rush hasn’t faded—not from him, not from you.

And judging by the way he’s looking at you now? It won’t.

He’s still breathing hard, chest rising and falling beneath his leather jacket, but it’s not from the ride. It’s from you. From the way you’ve been teasing him all night, pressing too close, whispering filth in his ear through the helmet, running your hands over his thighs while he was going over a hundred miles an hour.

“You think that shit was funny?” His voice is low, dark, dangerous—the kind that makes you shiver. “Tryna get me to crash?”

You smirk, biting your lip as you lean back against the bike, feigning innocence. “Didn’t crash though, did you?”

His eyes darken, and suddenly he’s on you, all heat and power, pressing you against the still-warm metal. His gloved hand wraps around your throat, fingers firm but teasing, his breath hot against your lips.

“You got a real fuckin’ mouth on you,” he mutters, voice thick with restraint. “You like testing me, don’t you?”

The answer is obvious, but you don’t get a chance to say it—his lips crash into yours, raw and demanding, teeth scraping, tongue forcing its way inside like he owns it. He does own it. Owns you, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You moan against him, and he swallows the sound, pressing in harder, caging you in like you’re not going anywhere. His free hand yanks at your jacket, peeling it off with a rough tug, and it hits the pavement like it means nothing to him.

“Keep pushin’ me,” he breathes against your mouth. “See what happens.”

Your stomach flips at the promise in his voice, but you don’t even get the chance to push him further—he’s already losing patience. Already done pretending he has an ounce of self-control.

He spins you around, forcing your chest against the bike, the cold metal biting through your thin shirt. His hands waste no time—one pressing firm against your back, keeping you in place, the other yanking at your waistband.

“Simon—”

“You knew what you were doin’,” he growls. “Whole ride, grindin’ against me, actin’ all fuckin’ innocent—”

You gasp as he drags his hand between your thighs, teasing, barely giving you what you need.

“—like I wouldn’t pull over and ruin you.”

You whimper, arching back against him, but he doesn’t let up. His grip on you is iron, his breathing ragged as he keeps you pinned right where he wants you. He presses against you, lets you feel how hard he is, how much restraint it’s taking for him not to just take what he wants.

“You gonna beg for it?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Or you gonna keep runnin’ that mouth?”

Your head is spinning, heart pounding, thighs clenching around nothing because fuck, you want him so bad it hurts.

“Please,” you whisper, barely more than a breath.

Ghost exhales sharply, a dark chuckle vibrating in his chest. “That’s more like it.”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

His hands are rough, demanding, yanking down your clothes just enough to give him access, fingers teasing through the slick mess he caused. His breath stutters against your neck when he feels how ready you are for him, and his fingers tighten against your hip.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Knew you liked it rough, slut.”

Then he’s pressing inside, slow at first just to make you feel it, just to let you adjust to the way he stretches you open. A strangled moan leaves your lips, fingers gripping the bike for balance, and he groans at the way you squeeze around him.

“So fuckin’ tight—” His voice is already breaking, but he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow down.

Ghost moves like he drives—fast, reckless, skilled. He fucks into you with deep, brutal strokes, pressing you down against the bike, making sure you take every inch. His hands grip your hips so hard you know you’ll bruise, but you don’t care. Not when it feels like this. Not when he’s making you see fucking stars.

“Keep makin’ those pretty lil’ noises, yeah?” he pants against your neck, voice wrecked. “Love hearin’ how fuckin’ desperate you are for me.”

You whine, and his hand slides back up your throat, tilting your chin so he can kiss you—messy, sloppy, needy.

“You take me so fuckin’ well,” he groans, thrusts growing erratic. “Like you were made for me.”

You are. You know you are.

The coil in your stomach tightens, pleasure mounting so fast it makes your head spin. He feels it—feels the way your body clenches around him, the way you’re barely holding on.

“C’mon, love,” he rasps. “Come for me. Be a good girl ‘f me.”

And fuck, you do. You fall apart around him, body shuddering, fingers gripping onto whatever you can as you break. He curses, voice rough, movements turning messy as he chases his own release.

Then—fuck. He buries himself deep, hips stuttering, a strangled groan leaving his lips as he comes undone.

The world slows. The air is thick with heat and the scent of sweat and sex. Ghost leans against you for a second, chest rising and falling, hands still gripping your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

Then he chuckles, low and breathless, lips brushing your ear.

“Still think you can handle the speed, dove?”

get his ass in jail for reckless driving smh.

[arc-misadventures]

The... Golem?

Jaune: This... She! She is a golem... right?

Pietro: Yes! She's an artificial life form I have created!

Ren: And... her name is...?

Pietro: Her name is, Penny!

JR: Penny?

Penny:

Ren: Hmm...?

Jaune: Huw...?

Ren: A metallic spine, and ribs...?

Jaune: A housing structure for the gelatinous for to be help give it's it's form, and shape?

Ren: And, the slime body?

Jaune: The slime mimics the softness often found in humanoid flesh. As well as being capable of generating warmth; The warm of flesh, to indicate life as it were.

Ren: Ohh, so it makes her seem more... human than if she was made for more inorganic components, such as metals?

Jaune: I would assume so. Are we correct in our assumptions, Dr. Polendina?

Pietro: Yes indeed! You two are quite the pair of intelligent adventurers!

Jaune: Thank you!

Ren: These are just our guesses from our observations

Jaune: But, we do have one question.

Pietro: And, what is that my lad?

JR: Why does she have a human head?

Ren: I would assume her head would have a metal skull, and a slime skin formed around it. But, it's human.

Jaune: It is human, right?

Pietro: It is actually slime!

JR: Slime?!

Pietro: Yes, Penny's head is made from a very rare slime capable of mimicking human form that makes it almost indistinguishable to the human form, both in it's appearance, and texture. Even her hair is actually a slime!

Jaune: Oh... That's good to know. I was worried it was an... actual head.

Ren: Yeah, it's so real I thought it was real.

Jaune: Same. One last question: Why the mask?

Penny: I haVe YeT tO MasTEr sPeakiNg iN a NoRmaL HuMAn VoiCE. T-tHe maSk heLpS to EMulAte It.

JR: Ohhh...

Ren: You sound like a human who's recovering from a neck injury

Jaune: It may sound off, but I'm sure you will be able to speak with a lovely voice one day!

Penny: T-THaNk yOu.

Jaune: Well, after knowing all of this, I've come to a decision?

Ren: A decision?

Jaune: A decision about, Penny!

Ren: Oh!

Ren: What kind of decision?

Jaune: Smash!

Ren: WHAT?!

Jaune: You heard me.

Ren: You want to have sex with a... a metal, slime girl golem...?

Pietro: S-S-Sex?!

Jaune: Yeah.

Ren: She's a slime?!

Jaune: You clearly don't know what the pleasures of being with a slime girl are like.

Ren: ...?!

Ren: Y-You've been with a slime girl before...?

Jaune: Remember, Neo?

Ren: Yeah, I remember her. She kept us stuck in that town for a month, because of that quest you two were working on.

Jaune: ...?

Ren: You weren't working on a quest were you...?

Jaune: At first, but Neo wanted to show me how... flexible she is.

Ren: ...

Ren: You're a massive slut, Jaune.

Jaune: Says the blushing virgin.

Penny: i'M soRRy tO inTErupT. BuT... mR. ARc?

Jaune: Yes?

Penny: ...

Penny: SNu snU?

Jaune: It will be my pleasure, my Lady~!

Penny: S-SenSAstiOnAl!

Ren: ...

Pietro: ...

Pietro: Isn't your companion a paladin?

Ren: Of the Summer Maiden... The fertility goddess...

Pietro: Oh... Does that mean he might...?

Ren: I don't want to talk about it!

Pietro: Okay.

[sxdisteez]

☸ Dorm Series: Part-Five | 최산

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✦ summary: an innocent date night spent watching anime quickly turns into a steamy and passionate "session" between you and san. ✦ pairings: idol! boyfriend san x fem! reader ✦ genre: smut!, idol boyfriend au ✦ word count: 2.1k ✦ warnings: smut!, passionate san, fem reader initiates sex, lots of kissing, dry humping, breast play, nipple! play, biting, clothed orgasm, praise kink, pet/nick name (angel, sannie), rough! sex, sensual sex, thick dick! san, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, cum eating, multiple orgasms, lots of love!

this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a realistic representation of any of the real people mentioned.

nsfw content below. 18+ - mdni

Today was date night for you and San. Instead of going out and finding a secluded place to spend time; a date you both didn’t even truly enjoy fully because it was filled with cautiously looking around at every sound and ultimately being hidden from everyone. You both decided it was best to create date night in a comfortable space, so here you were binge watching anime at San’s dorms, which was perfect since the members would be busy with their individual schedules. Both you and San were avid Hunter x Hunter fans so it was a no brainer that it would be up for selection.

“I know Hunter x Hunter is mainly about Gon but I can’t help but wish Killua or Kurapika had their own show and not just an arc. You get what I’m saying?” San questions tone laced in excitement watching the tv screen. 

You hum in agreement, “I get you.” 

Snuggling into Sans embrace more, you enjoy the way his body encompassed yours from behind. You dearly cherished moments like these because you both could comfortably be with each other with no restrictions. Dating an idol was not easy and many would not be able to give up on doing what most couples had the freedom to do. You wouldn’t trade San for anything though, he was sweet, goofy, thoughtful, mature, and overall the best boyfriend you’d ever had.

Turning around to face him, you peer up at him enjoying the look of amazement plastered across his face as he continues to watch the anime. You found it hilarious that from the outside people assumed your boyfriend was intimidating and mean but deep down he was the softest most gentlest man ever. Your heart swelled in admiration at the thought, your mind filled with only San at the moment.

Wrapping your arms around him loosely you begin laying light kisses on his chest, earning a slight squeeze from San. Making your way up to his neck you continue to kiss him gently until you’re face to face with him. He stared at you eyes dilated with love, a small smile forming on his lips.

“What are you up to sweetheart?” He asks, quirking his eyebrow up.

“Just appreciating you.”  you say, staring back at him, eyes equally dilated.

You lean in, placing a small peck on his lips, then another, then another. Pulling back you smile at San, his lips slightly parted eyes closed anticipating more. You lean in deciding to be serious lips connecting with San’s in a sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, lost in the way his soft lips moved perfectly in sync with yours. San lets out a small moan, his hands finding your hips, giving it a slight squeeze.

Never breaking the kiss, you move to straddle San’s lap wanting to feel even closer to him than before. You suck in a breath feeling his slightly erect member touch your heat. 

“Someone’s excited.” You whisper against his lips. Breathing heavily, San can only release a low whine, his bottom lip sticking out in cute pout at the loss of your lips. You playfully lick against his jutted lips smiling at how he whines even more under you.

“I’m not in the mood for games.” He groans, grasping your face into his palm before pulling you down to connect your lips again. 

His tongue swipes at your lips asking for access which you grant immediately, lost in the taste of him. San places his hands on your hips again, holding you down on his lap as he thrust up. You sigh into his mouth at the friction, the feelings of his clothed cock rubbing against your clad and already sensitive clit. Thrusting up more, San guided your hips back and forward your movement matching his perfect. You both moan into each other's mouths, the shared tension causing your arousal to heighten. Breaking the kiss you sit up, removing your shirt exposing your plump breast. 

“Shit-“ San mumbles, eyes pitch black with lust. 

He reaches up to palm both breasts as you continue grinding into him. He juggles them in both hands before giving them a slight squeeze. His fingers skate over your nipples, a strained whimper escaping past your lips. San leans up slightly before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, attending to the other with his hands. His mouth worked skillfully over your sensitive buds licking, sucking, and softly biting them knowing just how sensitive your nipples were. You messily grind into his lap at a faster pace, tension growing between your legs as your orgasm nears.

“Oh fuck.” You moan out loud already feeling lost in the pleasure you were receiving. “Are you gonna cum for me angel?” San looks up at you, eyes hooded as he takes in how gorgeous you looked desperately getting off on him. You let out a small groan, your head falling back as you feel the warmth expand in your belly. Shaking slightly your movements slow down as you ride out your orgasm.

“You look so pretty when you cum for me.” San groans flipping you over, his arms caging you underneath him. He grounds his cock into your obviously soaked panties, watching the way you squirm underneath him.

“I’m gonna make you feel even better angel.” He whispers, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. San kneels between your legs, hooking his finger beneath the waistband of your underwear he slides them down, mouth watering at the slick that coated your folds. Laying down between your legs, San holds your legs wide, licking his lips at the sight of your juicy pussy. He gives one tiny kitten lick to your clit, holding you down firmly as you buck your hips at the contact feeling overstimulated from your first orgasm. He gives another kick to your hole collecting your juices and cum into his mouth. You both moan, you at the way his tongue skillfully moved and him at the taste of you. San takes your clit into his mouth sucking gently at the sensitive bud relishing in the little whines you release. 

“Sannie.” You moan out, desperately wanting to grind your pussy against his tongue. He moans back at you, tongue circling around your clit as if he was searching for hidden treasure.

“You’re gonna make me cum again.” You cry out, your senses heightening again. San inserts a finger inside of you, curling his finger achingly slow before massaging your sweet spot. His mouth encloses on your clit, sucking greedily at your nub as he pumps into your heat. His fingers move skillfully and swiftly inside of you, the sounds of your slick filling your ears. The familiar tension reaches its peak crashing down on you like a truck. “I’m coming!” You moan, your body spasming as San continues, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“You taste so good. My perfect angel.” San coos removing his fingers from your cunt, inserting them into his mouth savoring the taste of your essence. You moan at the sight, loving the erotic nature of his actions. San slides his pants off, his thick cock slapping against his belly with a slight thud. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped passed your lips at the sight of his god-like body. Lean muscles, defined abs and the part you loved the most his perfectly muscular pecs flexing slightly as he stroked his cock.

“Like what you see?” He smirks watching the way you gawk at his appearance.

“Always.” You breathe out feeling no shame in how you stared at him. He was all yours after all.

Towering over you, San locks your lips into a deep kiss, his cock rubbing at your hole before sliding in slowly. Moaning into each other's mouth from the shared feeling of your cunt swallowing his cock. “Fuck-“ San mutters over your lips, finally bottoming out fully in you.

He enclose you in between his arms, holding himself up above you finally pulling out from your cunt achingly slow before thrusting in abruptly. Your mouth falls agape, your breath caught in your throat at the sudden action. San keeps his motion steady, each thrust taking your breath away on impact. You reach up tightly squeezing his arms in an attempt to brace yourself from the impact. San evens out his movement, pumping inside of your throbbing pussy with need. Your moans finally escape, pleasure consuming your body in its entirety.

“Yes, Sannie. Fuck me just like that baby.” You cry out, hands gripping even tighter around his arms. He grinds into your cunt, movements swift and fluid, his thick cock stroking your walls perfectly. You clasp your legs around San’s waist pulling him flush against your body wanting to feel his closeness.

“You feel so good.” You whine into his ear, clutching on to him as if he was your lifeline. San trails kisses on your neck, biting and sucking at the soft skin leaving behind his presence. San never failed to put some kind of marking on your body, wanting people to know you were taken. He groans feeling your pussy clench tightly around him straining his once fluid movements. Your nails rake down his smooth back, clawing at him in desperation.  “Shit-” He hisses out, intoxicated with lust and love.

San finds your lips, hastily kissing you as he begins to pound into your aching cunt. You release a muffled moan at his ruthless actions, unable to ignore the sound of skin slapping permeating the room. 

“Sannnnn!” A voice calls out, before bursting into the room. San still’s his movements looking up, his eyes meet Yeosang then Wooyoung’s staring back at him, puzzled looks plastered on their faces. He shields your body from their view with his own body making sure you are completely protected. You bite your lip stifling any noise, unable to silence your quick breaths.

“Oh you’re- ohhhhh.” Wooyoung says, eyes widening as realization strikes him on what’s happening. Yeosang looks back and forth between the two in confusion. His mouth falls open once he finally takes in the state of the room and San whose face was flushed and sweaty. They quickly make a beeline out of the door without another word leaving you and San in silence.

Your shallow breaths fill the room not knowing how to react in such a situation. San lifts off of you, his amused eyes finding yours as he releases a small chuckle. “That was close.” He sighs, shaking his head. You stare back at him stunned at what just happened, not knowing how to react. “We have to be quiet now.” You whisper more so for yourself because you knew quiet sex and San did not mix together ever.

“We’ll see how long that lasts.” San states smugly, resuming his movements. He ruts his cock into you, watching your face twist in pleasure again. A smile graces his face, basking in how beautiful you looked being fucked by him. He pulls back, leaving his tip in before slamming back into your pussy resuming his wild strokes. You cover your mouth releasing a deafening moan leaving both you and San wide eyed. 

“Well that was short lived.” He laughed carelessly, continuing as if nothing happened. 

You reach for a pillow, biting down harshly at the soft cushion in an attempt to muffle your screams. The assault on your pussy leaving you dazed, unable to control yourself and you liked it. San whimpers at the vice grip your pussy had around his member, feeling his orgasm creeping up. He hooks his hands under your knees, placing your legs on his shoulders. Reaching out he removes the pillow from your clenched teeth. Leaning  forward he connects your lips in a sensual kiss, slowing down the pace of  his thrusts. He relishes in the breathy moans you release into his mouth, swallowing every sound. 

“Right there baby.” You whimper, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He moans low locking eyes with you, love and passion swirling in his black orbs. You stroke his cheek gently enjoying the shared intimate moment. 

“I’m close angel.” He whispers, movements slowly turning sloppy. “Cum inside of me.” You plead, grinding your hips up to match his thrusts, your own orgasm looming. “Fuck angel.“ San moans gazing lovingly at you, bringing his lips to yours again he slips his tongue past your lips. His hips erratic and messy he groans into your mouth, cock jerking wildly as his seed spurts deeply inside of you, the feeling coaxing your own orgasm to follow. San continues helping you ride out the last wave of your orgasm before pulling out.

“I love you.” San says forehead resting on yours. “I love you.” You reply, placing a small kiss to his lips.

—taglist: @spicxbnny @dawn-iscozy @levisforgottentea @nopension @ateezswonderland @jiminssluttyminx @sunnysidesins

be on the look out for part-six with mingi coming soon!

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