#or slept in the same bed??? the many times we did that????

[mapsareforbraindeads]

guys i may be crushing on my straight (technically bi but said she only really wants a boyfriend) best friend who i was accused of being in a lesbian relationship with in the first grade. help.

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

Friend breakups suck but they suck so much more when you've already made amends with the fact you're not going to be friends and the other person keeps demanding apology after apology to "put their mind at ease".

If apology 1 wasn't good enough I don't think apology 2 is going to make you feel much better and by apology 3 when you're telling me what to say back to you it really just makes me start to resent you when all I wanted was for this to just be a simple parting of ways

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[slushycoookie]

I Like Your Dress ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 2.7k

✩ Content: Logan goes crazy over your dress, Domino shows up (I miss her so bad), cream pie is mentioned A LOT, Wade breaks the 4th wall, P in V, Logan does NOT wrap it up this time, MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: Reader is the same reader as the one shot I wrote. You don't have to read that one, I don't go into much detail but if you guys want to read that one, read it here

Masterlist | Commissions

The fresh smell of food made Logan awake from his slumber.

Sleepily searching for you on your side of the bed, only to discover that you weren't there. Having a sudden burst of energy, Logan got out of bed to find you. He didn’t need to go far when sees you wiggling your hips at the stove, stirring a pot.

“Hey.”

You look behind you when hearing his voice, “Hi!”

Logan pulls you close as you greet him with good morning kisses. Well, afternoon after checking the time.

“How did you sleep? I let you sleep in a little bit, you were so tired from that mission last night.”

Logan smiles, “I slept alright.”

He sees the multitude of ingredients on the counter and remembers what they're were for. Wade was throwing a potluck since Domino was coming back from a month long mission. Of course, he invited you two and you were so excited. Logan was neutral. He would've preferred to stay in bed with you all day.

You said you were making a few things, but the amount of ingredients you had made him wonder. “How many people are you planning to feed?”

“Enough.” You said, going back to your pot, which he found out was pasta. “Colossus and Peter will be there. We both know how much they like to eat.”

“Don’t push yourself.” His tone was rough but you knew it was his way of caring.

“I won't.”

Logan grabbed himself an afternoon shot of bourbon before excusing himself to get ready. Trying to prepare himself for socializing and dealing with Wade.

When he came back clean and not as rugged, you were finishing up, putting white icing on the strawberry cake. Logan swiped his finger on the cake and licked it, cream cheese on his tongue.

“That’s good.”

“Don’t lick it anymore.” You lightly threaten, smacking his hand away. “Save it for the party.”

“Fine.” Logan kisses your cheek and stands behind you to watch you finish icing the cake. In your beautiful handwriting ‘Welcome back, Domino’ in pink icing. “Would ya look at that? You should be on those baking shows.”

“Nuh uh, I'm okay with just watching videos.”

Once you were finished, he helped you place the cake in the dome, ready to go with the rest of the food. You gave him an order to not eat any of it before you ran into the bathroom to get ready. Logan gave you about five minutes before inspecting the tins. He smiled when he saw you only made a few items, a large tray of pasta salad and spinach dip. Just to make sure it wasn't poisoned, he took a swipe of each, humming at how good it tasted.

He knew you were going to be a while so he opened a window, grabbed a cigar and lounged to smoke. Logan knew you didn't like it when he smoked in the apartment, but said it was okay as long as he let in some fresh air after.

As usual, you took almost a hour getting ready, but it was well worth the wait.

When you stepped out of the room, Logan started coughing, blowing smoke out the window to make sure a lot didn't linger. His eyes trailed your outfit, a tie dye colored maxi dress with thin straps, and cute, brown sandals to match. Logan didn't care when you scolded him for obviously taking a bite of your pasta salad. His breath was stolen away.

“I like your dress.”

“You're changing the subject, but thanks.”

He steps in front of you, eyes lowered as he kept gazing at your form. The dress hugging your body while still being appropriate. Logan's hand rests on your ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

“I really like your dress.”

You avoid his lustful gaze, “Don’t you start.”

“Start what?” He steals a kiss from you, careful not to mess up your lipstick. “I can't compliment my lady?”

“You can compliment me by using your words.”

“It's not as fun that way.” He dips his head between your neck to smell you. You weren't wearing any perfume this time, but the honey scent from your lotion was enough to complete the entire package. Logan growls, squeezing your ass some more and making you giggle.

“We should go, I don't wanna be late.”

“We won't. I swear.” His hand cups the nape of your neck, putting it back so he could kiss you some more. Parting your lips to dive his tongue right in. Your moans spurring him on.

It didn't last long though.

“Logan.” You gently push him away, “We will have some time later.”

He sucked his teeth before grabbing all of the food you made.

Logan remained a scowling mess when you two arrived for the potluck.

You were the more social one out of the relationship, so you immediately flocked to the crowd who welcomed you with open arms. Even Domino, despite that this was the first time you two saw each other. Logan makes his usual rounds of saying hi before picking a corner with a drink in his hand and observing.

It was his way of enjoying himself without being easily annoyed and overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the apartment. Best of all, he could watch you socialize. Your face lighting up at the conversations while that gorgeous dress clung to your body. Logan always likes to admire you in your element, but you wearing that dress was more than enough to make him want to do things to you. His hands involuntary flexed at the idea of feeling your body through the dress.

“There’s my grumpy kitty!” Domino says to Logan, who scowled at her, but there was no malice behind it.

“Hey, Dom.”

“Wade told me that your hair was getting better and now I see why.” She motions to you talking to Peter about him getting highlights. Logan's lips curl upwards again at the sight of you. “She's cute.”

“Thanks. I heard she scheduled you an appointment?”

Domino nods, “Gonna try something new. This is getting stale.” She motions to her afro.

“Don’t you dare change it.” Wade joins in, pointing at her. “You know how I feel about change.”

“Aww.” Domino pinches his cheek, “We all gotta grow up sometime.”

“You know who you're talking to right?” Logan comments under his drink.

“Your afro was one of the reasons you were so likeable in the second movie. Now what do we have, a woman with luck powers? I still don't believe that's a thing, by the way.”

Domino shakes her head at the audacity of it all, “I missed you too.”

She excuses herself, leaving Logan and Wade together. The latter started getting a little giddy, cradling his cup, while shooting multiple glances. Logan promised you that he was going to play nice during the party and not get easily annoyed at Wade.

“What?”

“We’re having cream pie.” Wade mentions, “Do you wanna know what flavor it is?”

Logan holds back an eyeroll, “Sure.”

“It's boston cream pie. I know we have a lot of sweet things considering we also have the cake your lady made, but I really wanted some. Actually, it's been a while since you've had cream pie, right?”

“I guess.”

“Oh you'll enjoy this one. You have a bit of a sweet tooth.” There was a moment of silence between them as they watched everyone enjoy themselves. You were getting many compliments on your food, asking for the recipes to make at home. “ Vanessa and I are huge fans of cream pie. Does your lovely lady like it too?”

Logan glared at him for a second before thinking about the question, “I think so.”

“Has she had it in a while?”

“No.”

“I think she'll be very happy when she gets some-”

“Why…in the fuck do you keep talking about the damn cream pie?” He feels a slight headache coming on.

Wade shrugs before taking a sip of his drink. “I can't like pie?”

Logan growls, ready to toss him out the apartment when you inadvertently save Wade, walking over with a huge smile on your face.

“Hi.”

“Hey, sugar.”

You embrace him with arms around his neck. Your lips kissing his cheek, taking in the aftershave.

“Hi Wade.”

“Hi. Your grumpy boyfriend and I were just talking about cream pie. Do you know we're having pie later?”

Logan felt his eye twitch at the question, his hand on your hip to keep himself from punching Wade.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes light up, “What kind of pie?”

“Boston cream. One of the best pies in the world, I should say.”

“Ooh, you know what, I haven’t had cream pie in a long time.”

“Oh really?” Wade tilts his head a little, while you nod. “Well, obviously you gotta have some. I think you'll enjoy it. The author knows what I'm talking about.”

And just like that, he's gone.

Logan didn't want to acknowledge whatever that was so he pulls you amongst his body. The most handy you'll ever allow him to be in public.

“We should go.” He whispers in your ear.

“Hm? We've only been here for two hours.”

That was enough, he wanted to say. Everytime he focuses on you and that dress, he wants to forget behaving and take you back home to lavish on you all night. For those two hours, Logan was trying to keep his thoughts pure enough to get a raging hard on. He didn't know how long he could last.

“Just hang in there a bit longer, okay?” You give him a kiss for encouragement. Logan takes in the imprint of your lips as you go back to socialize. No, he wasn't going to make it.

He hangs on when everyone sits around the table, laughing and talking. You're beside him, hand on his thigh to stabilize him and keep him in the conversation. Logan wants you to go higher, feel the impending hard on.

He needs to get you alone, show you that he was failing at behaving. There weren't a lot of places where you two wouldn't be disturbed. And he didn't want to take you outside and fuck you in an alleyway.

But God answered him.

You excused yourself, making your way to the bathroom. Logan watches you go as everyone continues talking. He gives it a minute before getting up and pretending to grab another drink. Instead, he beelines to the bathroom, standing beside the door and waits. His heartbeat in his chest.

“Who wants some cream pie?” Wade asks, everyone roaring with excitement once you finally open the door.

Logan pushes you back into the bathroom, lips immediately on yours. Your surprised gasp eggs him on while he traps your body against the wall.

“This is all your fault.” He mutters, constantly stealing kisses.

“Huh? What?” You try to keep up with him as his hands are all over your body, feeling your soft curves through the dress.

“You know what. Wearing this dress, not letting me do something to you before we came here. Torturing me.”

As he spoke, his lips were everywhere. Your face and neck. Trying to wear you down and submit.

“Torturing you? That, that wasn't my intention-oh.” His teeth latched on to your shoulder, having some self control to mark you in a place no one could see.

“I need you.” Logan starts bunching up your dress.

You try to stop him by pushing his hands down, “L-Logan? Logan, baby you didn't lock the door.”

“It's gonna be quick.” You let him bunch up your dress, seeing a glimpse of your panties, which he now sees that it's the lacey blue ones he liked. The ones you mentioned reminded you of the accent colors of his suit.

Logan's jeans were getting tight when he removed them, stuffing them in his pocket. Without saying a word, you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You whimpered under his lips as he was finally able to touch you while wearing the dress. Large hands molding your breasts through the fabric, still managing to locate the nipple and pinching it. His hips rolling against you, creating a nice friction against your cunt.

You were doing so good at keeping quiet for him, only managing the occasional whimper when he hit a perfect spot. Making sure you were stable on his arm, Logan reaches down to your core. His chest rumbles when he feels how wet you're getting. Sinking one digit inside while his thumb presses on your clit. Making circular motions while he was getting you ready.

“Didn’t need to do much, huh?” He said, watching you twist and turn. “You wanted this as much as I did.”

You didn't say anything but he smelled you. His finger coated in your delectable arousal. If you two weren't on a time limit, he'd reach down to get a taste.

Once you were ready, Logan maneuvers to unzip his pants. Even though you were dazed out of your mind, you remember something.

“I left my purse out there.” Your purse had condoms and knowing Logan, he didn't bring them as you insisted on being prepared in case something like this happens. But now both of you were unprepared.

“I'll get ya plan b at the store.” He continues to unzip his jeans.

“Don’t forget…”

Logan pulls his cock out with one motion, using some of your wetness for lubrication. “I won't.”

He then slips into you. You clutch on to him for dear life, your nails digging into his shirt. Curse his healing factor. He wanted to see the marks you'd leave on him.

He keeps you stable against the wall, sinking into you completely before starting to move. Quick and sharp thrusts in and out of you. Low, wet sounds filling his ears besides your shaky sobs.

“O-Oh god…”

Logan rolls his eyes back at your desperate tone, “God's not here, honey.”

His own voice comes out strained as he's fucking you. How he wants to pull your dress up further to see your breasts move. But having you like this was much hotter. Wanting you to remember that this was the dress that made him go crazy.

“Mmh Lo’…” He almost comes right there when your hand grips the nape of his neck, pulling the hairs.

Logan grunts, picking up speed, feeling some of his cum leaking out into you. His tip pressing against your cervix that was making you croon. Goosebumps forming on your skin as he hit that spot repeatedly. Making you whine and wince under him.

“Squeeze around me, sweetheart.” He commands and you do so. Your walls molding around his cock as you silently cried out. Even at the height of your pleasure, you still managed to be quiet, mouth agape and he wanted to shut those lips with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Logan wasn't far behind, pounding into you mercilessly before shooting his cum inside you. He stilled for a moment then pumped into you a few times to make sure all of his load made it inside. You capture him in another kiss, both of you sighing against each other.

Laughter nearby caused you two to come down from the high. Logan put you down, handing you your panties. He grabbed a few paper towels to make sure no cum stained his jeans. You were checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure Logan didn't mess up your makeup. He did ended up getting some on his face, which had you quickly trying to wipe it away with your thumb.

“I'm good, I'm good.” Logan reassures you before fixing his shirt. “I'll go out first.”

“Okay.” Before parting, he gave you another kiss, completely not caring if lipstick stained his lips.

The party continued as if the two of you weren't missing for the last fifteen minutes. Logan played it cool by grabbing another drink. When you came out the bathroom, you two momentarily locked eyes, before acting like nothing happened.

“Did you enjoy the cream pie?”

Logan jumps at Wade's sudden appearance, “What the fuck? How did you know that I-?”

“The pie's right there.” Wade points to the cut up pie on the kitchen counter. Logan stares at it, a bit dumbfounded. “It's good right?”

Logan's eyes land on you as you're speaking to Domino once more, “Yeah. It was good.”

Tags: @allmyn1ghts

[wileys-russo]

in the blink of an eye (2) II a.putellas

part one in the blink of an eye (2) II a.putellas

"it has been years, time to forgive yourself."

eli's words had been playing on your mind for much longer than you cared to admit, despite the chaotic dumpster fire mess that your life was that really should have meant you were at capacity for things to overthink about.

like your mind ever listened to you though, or missed a chance to play a wonderfully wickedly cruel trick.

"i wanna pick!" speaking of.

"vale. you can pick your clothes nena, but remember it is hot outside sí?" you smiled, honestly far too exhausted from yet another sleepless night dealing with the poor three year olds endless night terrors to have the energy to argue with her over what she wanted to wear.

you knew this coffee date was important but you also knew mariposa's needs came before anything, and building up her independence was surely not a bad thing?

"posie. no!" you laughed as the girl returned, rubbing your hands down your face and shaking your head as moments later the three year old toddled back out, wrestling furiously to try and pull her head through the leg hole of a pair of jean shorts.

"you look like a wrestler." you teased, tugging the shorts off and smiling at the annoyed scowl which painted her face. "don't laugh!" the girl huffed, smacking your leg with a scowl and crossing her arms.

"we need to leave soon princesa, can i pick por favor? you can pick tomorrow, promesa!" you squatted down and held up your pinky, the three year old giving in with a nod and a grunt, locking her pinky with yours as you both leaned in and kissed the others finger.

"can't break it." the girl huffed as you nodded, her surprised giggles filling the air as you snatched her up, carrying her back into her makeshift bedroom upside down by her ankles.

"down tia! down!" the girl demanded, collapsing into a fit of giggles as you dropped her on her bed, careful she didn't land on her neck as you did so.

you smiled as posie grabbed her favorite bear, starting to sing a little tune to him as you rummaged through her wardrobe picking out an outfit. but suddenly, the singing stopped, then you heard a little sniffle and your head whipped around, features softening as you watched her tiny hand wipe away a stray tear.

"hey hey hey bebita, qué pasa?" you were sat beside her in a flash, picking her up and sitting her on your lap as her face hid itself in your chest, one of your hands cradling her head and the other gently rubbing her back.

"mami's song." the girl managed out as your heart cracked and you squeezed your own eyes shut at the emotions which poured down on you like someone had cast a storm cloud above your head.

"oh." you managed out, her little body starting to shake with an awful broken sob, her tears staining your shirt and you adjusted your position slightly, squeezing her tightly and mumbling assurances over and over in her ear.

the same words you'd repeat to her every night you'd wake up to hear her screaming, horrid wailing filling the apartment as you'd fall out of bed and sprint to be by her side, taking her in your arms and gently shushing her.

by now it was routine she just slept by your side in your bed, tiny fist curled into your shirt, grip unrelenting and desperate, night terrors always lingering just over her head like a thundercloud waiting to burst with rain.

posie had always been in your life from the very moment hers began. you were her one and only tia, your older sister your only sibling and her husband an only child who was long estranged from his parents.

when posie was a baby she could be rocked in a singular arm, your mami cooing and fussing over her just like she had when both you and your sister natalia were her own babies.

these days your mami suffered from arthritis and could hardly lift the tv remote let alone a wiggling three year old, her fingers gnarled and wrists stiff, a result of working far too many hours for far too many years just to keep a roof over your head when your father left one day to get milk and never came back.

being a tia wasn't a job you took lightly, and despite the fact you'd moved away from barcelona years ago it never stopped you making as many trips over to see her once she was born, or your sister and brother in law bringing her to madrid to see you every few weeks once she was old enough to travel.

her cheeks were always rosy, never without a bright but gummy smile plastered on her face, always giggling and babbling, desperate for any sort of attention and your sister and her husband gave it to her by the bucket load.

but when the accident happened, your role in one another's life was changed forever.

"miss her. miss mami! and papi!" posie choked out once her sobs had turned to shallow gasps and her head rested on your shoulder, tiny little fists gripping your shirt as if one wrong move and you would disappear entirely right in front of her eyes.

"i know nena, i know. i miss your mami too." you whispered out with words barely audible, swallowing a sob of your own which started to claw its way up your throat, tears banking up in the corner of your eyes and threatening to spill over as you fought to pretend they weren't there.

lips lingering on the side of her head with a few gentle kisses, you were unable to stop the small smile curling into your lips as your niece wiped her nose on your shirt a few moments later as if you were a big human tissue.

"have to see the lady?" the girl asked quietly, grip on you loosening just slightly as she wiped her nose again this time on her bear which you made a mental note to wash later.

"sí, we have to see ana. but she is nice to you, no?" you rubbed the girls back who nodded. "and, you get cake nena." you poked at her stomach softly as her smile returned, pad of your thumb tenderly and carefully wiping away the tears which had begun to crust the corner of her eye.

"when we get home tonight we can do whatever you want. dress ups, fashion show, tea party, make cookies, watch tv, anything!" you promised, slowly moving her off of your lap and gently prying off her fingers which still gripped to the shirt you now needed to change.

"watch mami and papi's video?" posie asked hopefully as you tried not to let the way your heart twisted show on your face, nodding with a pained smile, bouncing her gently in your lap.

"sí bebita, we can watch mami and papi's video." you promised, the tape of your sisters wedding that posie had stumbled across a couple of weeks ago practically living on your tv screen since the day she'd first watched.

your own mami had urged against it, warning it might bring up some feelings which were far too big for a three year old to process. but you were still learning how to say no to the small girl and when she hit you with the puppy dog eye and pout combination, you were done for.

but to everyones surprise not a single tear was shed as posie sat and watched the ceremony which wed her mother and father, a genuine smile on her face for the first time in far too long as the moment it finished she was demanding you play it again and a routine of sorts fell into place.

really both you and your therapist were certain it was a coping mechanism, but theres no real way to explain that to a three year old who had lost both of her parents in the blink of an eye.

with posie finally dressed and ready you'd packed the same blue little backpack you now knew to take everywhere with you and hoisted her up on your hip, locking the front door after you.

you smiled kindly at the older woman who stepped into the elevator after you, who wiggled her fingers at posie in greeting as the three year old hid her face shyly in your neck and the woman gave you an amused smile.

"vale. this is not rocket science idiota, you can do this." you mumbled to yourself as you strapped posie into her car seat, tugging her thumb out of her mouth every few seconds as she settled for sucking on the ear of her teddy instead.

another coping mechanism.

you sighed in relief as finally you managed to slot the lock of the belt in, the stupid thing far too complicated for a seatbelt but at least you knew there wasn't a chance posie was getting it undone with how long it took you to get it locked in.

"listo?" "sí, vamos!"

~

"-and a job?" ana asked, firmly but not unkindly as you were quick to nod, pausing to wipe posie's face with a napkin where she'd decide to smush most of the cake around her mouth rather than in it.

you glanced up apologetically as you rummaged around in the little blue backpack for the wet wipes, ana too busy scribbling something down to notice as you grabbed out the pack and yanked one out.

"tastes good!"

"how can you taste the cake if you wear it and do not eat it?" you teased causing the three year old to giggle, gently holding her head still as you wiped away the chocolate smeared around her mouth.

"lo siento ana, what did you ask?" you grabbed out a little wooden puzzle for posie to play with, a happy squeal leaving her mouth as she sat herself down by your feet to fiddle around with it.

"oye! the ground is dirty posie." you scooted your chair back and slipped your arms under her elbows, pulling her up and onto your lap, settling the puzzle down on the table in front of her as she made no move to argue but rather slumped comfortably against you.

"a job, steady income." ana reminded with a small smile as you nodded.

"sí, at a little clothing shop not far from the apartment. i know it is not much but it is three days a week and that is as much as i can organise childcare for her until we've settled in a bit, found a routine." you nervously fiddled with your rings under the table.

"hey, a start is a start. i want to work with you so that this works for her, so that she is as best looked after as she can be and stays with family." ana assured quietly as you exhaled shakily, giving her a small but uncertain nod.

"i know these normally feel stressful, and i can see you are nervous chica. but that is why i asked we meet here and not in my office, so that it felt a little bit less formal." ana gave you a kind smile as the tension in your shoulders melted away a little.

now slightly more relaxed you answered her questions with a touch more confidence, nodding and taking down your own notes as she explained what else she'd need to see before she could sign off the papers and take everything to family court.

"you said you grew up here, sí? you have family here? friends?" ana questioned as you hesitated before nodding. "some, a lot i lost touch with when i...moved." you forced a smile as ana nodded and scribbled something down.

"do you know her? she has been looking over to us for the last ten minutes." ana tilted her chin behind you as you frowned curiously and turned your head to glance over your shoulder.

though as you did and you caught the eye of your assumed spectator, your blood ran cold and your body froze, rigid and tense all over again like you were made of scrap metal.

her hair was different, longer, blonder, and tied up in a neat ponytail. she looked like she'd just come from the gym in bike shorts and an oversized shirt, yet you didn't even need to see her figure hidden beneath it so be able to draw it from memory with your eyes closed.

her face was shadowed by a faded blue nike baseball cap which was tucked on her head, and though her eyes were covered by a pair of black expensive looking sunglasses, you could feel them peering right into your soul and it had your heart hammering in your chest.

"old friend?" just as suddenly as alexia had appeared it was as if you blinked and suddenly she was gone, merely a faceless figure in the back of your mind, haunting your most tender and endearing of memories like a ghost.

only you didn't need someone to pinch you to know you hadn't been dreaming, her gaze seared into your forehead as you caught a flash of blonde hair duck around the corner and you frowned.

"sí...something like that."

~

as alexia hurried around the corner, feet smacking the pavement with hollow thumps, cursing herself both for running away and for the fact she'd done so before her coffee was ready so the entire trip was now voided useless all together.

alexia was angry, burning and boiling and seething like a wave at its peak ready to come crashing and smashing down toward shore.

no, she was upset, agonizing over what could have been, what should have been, as if someone had just grabbed her heart in their fist and squeezed as if it were a stress ball.

no, she was disappointed. gut wrenchingly, soul crushingly, undeniably, disappointed. fixated on a scene she'd imagined a million times over in her head and yet the real thing couldn't have been more different if she tried.

or was it perhaps, that she was frustrated? heartbroken? torn up? hollow? numb? jealous?

emotional, alexia was overwhelmingly emotional.

which is how she found herself pulling into a driveway which was once hers but no longer, head covered by the hood of her jacket, baseball cap tilted downward masking her face.

with her heart hammering in her chest and stomach queasy with an apprehensive sense of heightened anxiety she hurried up the driveway as if you might jump out from the bushes at any second, ready to yelp and laugh like all of this just a cruel prank or a sick joke.

with knuckles tense and ready to pound themselves against the faded blue of the front door, alexias hand curled to form a fist, however before she could even lift her arm it was swinging open.

"hermana? what-" not letting her sister finish her sentence alexia was already barreling inside with a huff, leaving the younger girl to roll her eyes at her dramatics and close the door after her, grumbling something under her breath

"mami! mami? mami!" alexia called out, eyes flickering rapidly around the room trying to spot her, spinning around on her heels as a hum sounded, the older woman staring right back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"you will never guess who i have just seen." the blonde grunted with a shake of her head, alba taking a seat at the table watching on curiously. "your ex almost fiance?" the younger girl guessed, biting into an apple as apples head swiveled so fast it should have flown on.

"eh? cómo lo supo?" alexia managed to spit out in shock as her sister chuckled. "lucky guess hermana." alba smiled taking another bite of the apple, crunch echoing around the room and making alexias eye twitch.

"qué pasa hija?" eli gained her attention again, alexia spinning back around with another huff, shaking her head and starting to pace back and forth. "here we go again." alba mumbled under her breath with a roll of her eyes.

"so she says no to marrying me, no to a family, no to a future. but then i see her and-and-and-" alexia stuttered though it was one fueled by anger, not nerves.

"-and we break up. a few months goes by and she moves away to madrid, a year and she loses my number, time passes and i do not have to see her face in front of me for nearly three years and now-" alexia paused to scoff, throwing

"-now she has done all of that which she refused me, but with another woman! she has a baby, a family, maybe she is married? quién demonios sabe!" alexia laughed in shock, dragging her hands down her face and pausing for a moment, giving the threadbare rug beneath her feet a brief pause of respite before right away resuming her furious pacing back and forth across it.

"i thought you were over her? ale it has been four years since you broke up." alba sighed, immediately falling silent at the venomous glare sent her way by the older blonde across the room, holding her hands up in surrender.

"and the other woman? la nueva mujer? she is too old for her! parece una abuela." alexia spat, eyebrows furrowed angrily as she practically threw herself down in a chair, head resting on her chin and eyes moving slowly to glare at her younger sister who bit down on her apple with yet another obnoxious crunch.

"you are jumping to a fast conclusion hija, i thought i raised you to use your head." eli chimed in when it seemed her eldest daughters rant had come to a ceasefire, alexia instead seething silently in her seat and scowling off into the distance.

"i saw her mami. i saw her. y sé lo que vi!" alexia grunted, biting the inside of her cheek and wishing as she could yank her heart from her chest and toss it as far away as possible.

alexia loathed that alba was right.

it had been almost four years and yet you never quite left her mentally the way you'd run away physically, always and forever occupying a sliver of her mind, sometimes pushed right to the back and forgotten temporarily.

then she'd see something, smell something, ignite some sort of sense and every hair on her body would stand on end, flooded with a bitter nostalgia.

if it be something as simple as a bunch of brightly colored poppies in a storefront, the melodic chime of a bell that sounded horrendously close to your laughter.

sometimes when she was alone and her mind drifted to you alexia could near feel the ghost of your touch lingering at the back of her neck.

it was as if with her eyes closed she could still imagine your slender digits raking through her hair, nails scratching ever so lightly against her scalp, a soft hum reverberating around her head where you'd have heard the snippet of a song in the elevator not quite able to place what it was.

but then reality sunk in, you weren't there, you couldn't be, and then the phantom fingertips turned cold and haunting, mocking alexia for letting her guard down, allowing a thick fog of delusion to deceive her.

humiliation seeping into the footballers bones she was shaking her head and hands about as if to ward off a bad spirit, the apparition of your false touch burning her skin with a cruel brand of what once was, and seemingly never would be again.

"i saw her too hija." eli added, focused again on chopping the peppers in front of her with a methodical precision.

"perdón? you saw her? you knew she was back? i cannot-mami when!" alexia spluttered out in a state of shock, eli's eyes never raising to meet the hazel ones which raked over her accusingly.

"when we were at the store. mami called out to her, spoke with her." alba chimed in, apple finished now and core sat abandoned in a tissue in front of her as the girl leaned back in her seat with a sigh.

"mami? es esto verdad?" alexias head swiveled back to the older woman who nodded with a hum.

"sí, her hair has grown out. she suits the natural look more, but she has always been a pretty girl." eli spoke as if referring to an old family friend, and not the sore spot ex flame of her eldest daughter who danced through alexias subconscious more than she would ever dare to admit.

"mami!" was all the blonde could manage to splutter with a scoff of disbelief. "vimos al bebé. yours would have been cuter!" alba added in with a shrug, eli looking up this time and fixing the brunette with an evil look.

"no metas a esa niña en esto, lo sabes bien!" eli warned firmly pointing the knife in her daughters direction who mumbled an apology and suddenly excused herself to the bathroom.

"mami..." alexia sighed tiredly, dragging her hands down her face and struggling to process everything. "her eyes hija, they were sad. she looked as if she could use a friend, a real one." eli stated solemnly as alexia peeked out through her fingers with a frown.

though when the silence grew longer eli looked up again, the very slightest raise of her eyebrow all that was needed for alexia to catch onto where she was going with this.

"qué? a mí?" the blonde choked out in shock, arms falling limply by her side as eli shrugged. "an old friend." the woman turned and opened the fridge as alexias mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"an old friend? mami i asked her to marry me and she said no!" alexias body shot up from the table as her fist thumped angrily against the wood, eli sighing as she returned with an armful of vegetables.

"sí. but that was four years ago nena, and how long are you going to keep that memory locked prisoner in your head? you have been wanting closure for a long time, no?" eli questioned and not untruthfully as alexias chest tightened, hackles up and a defensive quip loaded and ready to fly from the tip of her tongue.

but then there it was, the ever so slight beat of hesitation, the pause all she needed to let the dust settle for a moment, the noisy hustle in her mind quietening down for just a second.

"you are angry, upset, confused. you have questions mija, and she will have answers." "mami, i can't." "you can't hija, or you won't?"

~

"qué hago aquí? idiota."

alexia scolded herself and exhaled shakily as the car engine shut off, silence around her somehow even noisier than the traffic just a few feet away, her limbs operating with a mind of their own as her keys slipped into her pocket, one foot hitting the asphalt.

this was beyond a dumb idea, this was borderline psychotic.

and yet, alexia moved forward, one step, two steps, three steps and then four. her feet moved again of their own accord as her car flashed and locked behind her, the warm evening air engulfing her body which felt doused in an invisible cold sweat.

five steps, six steps, seven, eight, nine, she'd crossed the road now, stood outside your old apartment building with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her hoodie.

this was a horrible idea. a terrible, no good, poorly timed, not at all thought out and overall unacceptable use of her time.

yet her feet continued on. ten steps, eleven, twelve, thirteen and fourteen and she'd reached the elevator.

her eyes darted around nervously as if she was under attack, looking for an enemy she couldn't see but knew lay in wait, silent and deadly, ready to strike the very moment a crack in her walls appeared big enough for it to slither through.

the elevator closed and suddenly so did alexia's ability to breathe. the small room grew tinier, walls closing in, a wicked voice in her head urging her forward, its much quieter more rational sibling slain and silent, corpse rotting away in the back of her head.

then, a ding, doors open, her lungs filled with air and she trembled, a cautious step forward, one more ever so slight beat of hesitation.

but then, off she went. fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and by number twenty five she was in front of your door.

well, really it could be anyones door.

this was a shot in the dark, an idea fired from a rusty old pistol which no matter which way alexia pointed it always seemed to end up trained to her own head, finger on the trigger and whatever consequence to come from pulling it hers to suffer.

you hadn't lived here in years so why was alexia so sure you were there? a mere few feet away as her shoes suddenly felt made from stone, her body rooted to the ground in front of the door she used to hold the key to, a key she kept on a chain right next to the one for your heart.

alexia wasn't sure if she'd ever returned that key, or if you still had one to hers, an invisible string tugging her feet a few inches closer and now if alexia even breathed too loudly she was terrified you'd hear from the other side.

all it would take was one second of bravery, a glimpse of courage, or perhaps...a moment of utter utter stupidity.

and yet, her knuckles rapped against the door and though meek the noise echoed around alexia's head like a gunshot, her knees suddenly wobbling and the panic button smashed in her mind, alarms blaring and neurons firing into overdrive.

leave, go, turn around, run. leave, go, turn around, run. leave, go, turn around, run. leave, go, turn around, run.

but the very moment alexia exhaled, left foot pointed ever so slightly outward and ready to back away and leave this most horrendous idea behind her, the door swung open and every last gasp of breath was snatched from her lungs.

"alexia?"

[tacticaldiary]

A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

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Part 2

(11/10/2023)

[gojonanami]

GOT YOU - SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time. (in other words, feral dub gojo had me by the throat). ☆ cw: 18+ only, dead dove, do not eat, smut, yandere!gojo, non/con (at the start), dub/con, mentions of noncon masturbation w/ clothes/in bed, manipulation, gaslighting, light choking, degradation (slut, whore), fingering (f!receiving), panty sniffing, oral (f!receiving), breeding kink, cumplay (slightly), multiple orgasms. ☆ wc: 3,132

“Got you,” a familiar voice hums in your ear, and the floor was yanked from under you - mentally and physically, because now you were pinned to the floor, looking up at the same blue eyes you had prayed you would never see again, “miss me sweetheart?” 

And he knew the answer from the wide eyes and trembling lips, but that only made him all the more eager. He leans down, pressing his lips to your soft cheek, “come on, baby, not even a hello? I’d even settle for a kiss or a smile,” he pouts, feeling your hands squirm under his grasp, as he straddled you, “trying to wave hello? Thought we were closer than that,” he hums, “don’t I deserve a warmer welcome, after all the effort I took to find you? To wait here all day for you,” 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, harsh and bitter, as bitter as the words you wished to scream at him - but you know that would get you nowhere, “how about you let me go, and I’ll give you the welcome you deserve?” And the quaver in your voice isn’t what gives you away, he knows you all too well, and you know he won’t let you go that easy. 

“Aw baby, I'd love to believe you,” he sighs dramatically, “but after I lost you for two years, I can’t risk you slipping away again,” he noses your neck, inhaling deeply, “I had to have such patience over the last few weeks, had to make sure you hadn’t picked up on my presence, and you didn’t,” he grins, as he traces a finger down your jaw, “you know how hard it was? I spent so many mornings in your bed after you went to work, slept in it, still warm from your body, and I could smell you,” his lips curled into a smile that would have been so gorgeous, if it weren’t terrifying, “made me so needy for you baby, I had to relieve myself,” he admits with a sigh, “luckily, your hamper was full of clothes with your scent, and in your bed, it made it even easier,” 

And your stomach twisted at the thought of him touching himself in your bed — and oh god, with what clothes? 

His thumb brushes against the length of your cheek, “why did you run from me, baby?” and you’re silent — he knows why you ran. 

Satoru Gojo was perfect when he was your best friend — the perfect shoulder to cry on when one of your crushes didn’t work out, when a job prospect didn’t pan out, or a friend had hurt your feelings. What you didn’t know was he was the reason none of these crushes ever had worked out, why a job prospect that took you too far from him didn’t hire you, and why these friends who hurt your feelings and took up too much of your time had left shortly after. But to you, he was your savior, his compassion limitless, his patience infinite — and so you fell for him, just as he knew you would. It was a drunken kiss one night when he knew you were vulnerable, when he knew that your feelings for him were so close to the surface, you couldn’t help but kiss him. And kissing lead to a confession, and then the two of you were together. 

It was perfect — for a while. 

Soon, you couldn’t deal with his jealousy — over coworkers, friends, even your family, and with his controlling tendencies — he wanted you to spend every waking moment with him, he even wanted you to quit your job, to let him take care of you, and you couldn’t handle his constant suspicion — the constant questions of where you were (even when you had told him) and the accusations that came along with them. 

So you tried to break it off — tried. The first few times, Satoru sweet talked his way back into your heart — and your bed — with false promises and sweet kisses. But that soon wore old when his promises remained broken and his kisses left you with a bitter taste in your mouth. And when you tried to leave for good once — your bags packed — he had grabbed you, held you down, and stared at you with the same paralyzing look he gave you now, lips twisted into a smile you had never seen before, as he whispered the same two words he said when he greeted you now, “Got you,” and then he added, “and I’m never letting you go.” 

“Are you going to answer?” the present Satoru snaps you back to reality with a gentle hand around your throat, his thumb running over the hollow, before he kisses it, “or should I make you?” 

“Satoru, please, stop—” 

“That’s what you always say, baby,” he rolls his eyes, as if he was exasperated, “and then you always end up under me, begging for more,” and he squeezes your throat lightly, “nothing but a little slut, aren’t you?” and you gasp, as he loosens his grip again, “have you whored yourself out to any of those men at work?” and he’s grazing his teeth against your jawline, “if I leave a mark, that should keep them away, right? They’ll know you have a loving boyfriend — one who’s not afraid to claim what’s his,” and he’s smiling again, “now, tell me, have you slept with anyone else?” 

And you don’t want to answer — the answer’s no, you hadn’t, but you didn’t know whether that would make it worse or better. But his hand around your throat tells you, you don’t have a choice. 

“No, I haven’t,” you confess — and his smug grin only serves to irritate you, as he sighs far too contently, parting your legs as he moves to settle between them, “please don't—” 

“I have to check, don’t I, princess?” he murmurs, and his hand is drifting up your tight skirt, “such a slutty skirt for someone who hasn’t been sleeping around. Did you wear it just for me?” and he’s raising a brow, as his fingers roll your skirt higher, fabric straining as he did, “well, I don’t want you wearing it for anyone else, so—“ and the fabric tears apart, your legs jumping as he does, and his lips press to your knee, “there’s my perfect baby,” 

Your hands are free as his hands busy themselves with spreading your leg, inhaling your scent, as his fingers trail up your inner thighs. Your hands are trying to push him away, kicking your legs helplessly, but he’s got them under his grasp. Fingers pressing into the soft flesh a little too hard, and you know he’s going to leave bruises at some point or another.  

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he hums when he finds a wet spot on your underwear, “look, you’re already ruining your underwear, and I’ve barely even started  — you’ve been wanting this too,” and your hand finds his face, trying and failing to push him away, but he only licks the space between your fingers, “now be a good girl for me or I’ll make you,” the last words a growl, “and you don’t want me to do that,” but he feels you grow more damp with your slick as his fingers press against your clit through your underwear, “or maybe you do.” 

“Satoru, please don’t do this,” you’re begging, but his crystalline gaze only grows more cold, as his lips curl as he sees hot, fat tears well in your eyes, “just let me go, I won’t run. I just don’t-“ 

“C’mon now, what’s wrong? How could I ever let you go?” He coos, as he watches the first tear roll down your cheek, as he leans down and tastes it, “I need you, baby, and now that I got you,” his two fingers sneak into the elastic of your underwear, snapping it against your skin, “I’ll never let you leave my sight again,” 

You flinch from his touch, squirming underneath him, “Please, I-I’ll do anything, just don’t—“ and his thumb pressed against your lips, as his lidded eyes and smirk only draw nearer. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, don’t you remember? You asked for this — you made me promise to never leave you,” twisting the words you had muttered to him that drunken night, whispered after your first kiss with him and now he purred them as he bent down, breath warming your lips, as he tilted your chin up, “and I always keep my promises,” 

“Now tell me,” he smiles that same smile that had caught your heart, “tell me you want this,” he’s nibbling at your neck, and you’re melting into his touch — and he knows you’re so close to submission, “tell me, baby,” 

And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your body burning from his touch, “I want you,” 

His lips curl into a wide grin, teeth flashing. 

He kisses you, lips sliding against yours, and your lips shut even as his tongue tried to slip inside. And he bites your bottom lip, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips, and his tongue plunges in, as you moan, boneless and helpless. 

And his hands slide down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, “Fuck, baby, I’m addicted to you — you taste so good,” and he’s tugging your shirt over your head, as his lips attach themselves to your jaw. You whimper as his teeth draw marks along your jaw, before trailing a path down your neck, kissing the hollow of your throat, before leaning down to the swell of your breasts right above your bra. 

His fingers press against your soaked panties, the fabric doing little to prevent the full force of his touch, thick and mean fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit, “Too fast,” you whine, back arching against the rough carpet of your living room, “too much,” your mouth falling cutely open and eyelashes fluttering, as your slick leaks through the thin material making his fingers grow sticky. 

“But your pretty cunt doesn’t agree, sweetheart,” he reaches around and unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, his teeth grazing your nipple before sucking, a grunt leaving your throat, heat blooming a trail down between your legs, “it wants me to fill you — fill you like you deserve,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs and then pulls them to his nose, “so fucking sweet,” and he’s pocketing them for later use — your cum not going to be the only thing staining it later. 

And he’s slipping down your body, kissing down your breasts, mouthing each nipple, before placing wet kisses between the valley of your chest, and down your stomach, pausing to slip his tongue into your bellybutton to make you gasp, as he hums against your skin. 

“Been dreaming of tasting this sweet pussy,” he sighs dreamily, as he settles between your thighs, his large hands spreading you open for him, fingers spreading your dripping folds, making you clench around nothing, before, not one, but two fingers slip inside with ease, making you choke on air, as he steadily begins to fuck you open, “you sure you haven’t whored yourself out baby, or do you just want my cock that badly?” and he tuts, “nah, can’t be. You’re too tight, so fucking gorgeous,” 

And you swallow thickly, hating the way his words make your resolve buckle — want seeping through the cracks, leaving only need behind — why were you weak for him like this? He knew you too well — knew where to touch, knew what to say to make you lose all sense, and he knew he could. 

And he would do it too. 

Soon enough, he’s pulling his digits from you, only the tips pressed inside as he spreads you, his mouth leaning do to press a sloppy kiss to your weeping cunt, “this pretty thing was made f’me, wasn’t it, princess?” and his hot tongue dragging your release up and down your pussy, before his fingers sink again for a hot minute, deeper than they had until they find that spot that has you seeing stars, making you moan louder, “Ah, this is where you’re weak, right, pretty baby?” And his mouth latches to your clit, sucking as his fingers bully your walls, “fuck, you’re so wet f’me, practically leaking all over your carpet, now what will your guests think?” he hums, a grin on his lips, “maybe after I fuck you, I’ll make you lick it all up f’me, clean up your mess,” 

And his words drive you over the edge, making you cum all over his fingers, your slick slipping onto his palm, as he pulls his fingers from you as you moan wantonly, his tongue darting out to lick and clean his fingers clean, pressing his digits into his mouth, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, baby,” and he’s parting you again with the tips of his fingers, before his tongue slips in. 

And his tongue parts your cunt, beginning to fuck you in earnest now, as his jaw aches as he does, hot and warm muscle reaching depths you didn’t know were possible. He’s licking, prodding, and sucking, and your soft grunts and moans only made him even harder, straining in his pants, “g’nna make me cum in my pants baby from your taste and sounds alone,” and you’re already so close, too close — your first orgasm making you so sensitive, but right as you give that telltale clench,  he’s pulling away a moment, to watch your chest rise and fall with half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, pretty, pretty cunt quivering from the lack of sensation, and a long whine leaving your lips. 

“Want you to cum on my cock this time, baby, not in my mouth,” he says, lips and chin glossy with your slick, “we have time for that later,” and now you’re growing desparate as he just watches you, cleaning up your release from his mouth, tongue darting out to lick what he could, before using the back of his hand to wipe away what he couldn’t. 

And the plea leaves your mouth before you realize it, “Please,” you swallow thickly, your words weak and broken, “Satoru, please,” 

“Please, what?” he teases, as he pulls his shirt cover his head, your eyes raking over his abs and lingering on the v-line as his sweatpants rode low, doing very little to hide the large bulge that your eyes were glued to, “want me to split you open with my cock?” and he wanted nothing more, as he slips his pants and boxers off with ease, his dick nearly slapping against his stomach as he did, a pearly white bead of pre-cum resting on the flushed red tip, his hand grasping it, as he pumped it slowly to spread his release, “gonna have to use your words baby, don’t care if they’ve been fucked out of that little brain of yours,” 

You pout so beautifully, bottom lip quivering, all of your resistance and fear eroded away by lust and need, “I want you, need you to fuck me, please, Toru,” you squirm, thighs parting for him, “need you inside me, please,” 

It doesn’t take more than a second before the tip of his dick is pressed to your folds, “Look at you now, baby — you were begging me to leave, and now you’re begging for this cock,” and you’re moaning as he feeds your insides his dick, inch by inch, “fuck, practically swallowing me up — want to be fucked that bad baby?” And finally he’s inside you, fully seated in your sweet cunt, “or maybe, you want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to breed this pretty pussy, sweetheart? Make me a daddy?”

And he’s starts to fuck you, hips snapping against yours — and he was unrelenting in his pace, cock breaching and bullying your insides, brushing against your sweet spot again and again. Your teeth bared down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back your noises, but he can’t have that, can he? 

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “Wanna hear every pretty sound, sweetheart, wanna hear you scream my name as I fuck you,” and he begins to fuck you even harder, hips slapping against you, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching from his cock, your sweet moans of his names, and lust glazed over gaze was almost too much for him. 

But it only made him more desperate to fuck you harder, until all you could feel was him between your legs for the next month, as he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, making himself sink even deeper, deeper, deeper. 

And it was too much, too much for you, as you came around his cock for the first time in two years, and god, it was the most beautiful thing Satoru had seen. Your mouth parted in ecstasy as your release slicked up his cock, as he fucked your cum back into you, as your princess cunt clamped down on him hard, again and again.

You were moaning his name again and again, the only word you knew now, mouth parted open as he fucked you through your orgasm, “Yeah, baby, cum on my cock, pretty pussy was made just for that. Gonna make you cum again and again, until you can’t live without my cock between your legs. You’d like that, huh? Make you walk around with my cum inside you, even when I get you pregnant, I’ll fuck you again and again, until you’re leaking with me.” 

And you’re just moaning, nodding and broken, lost to the pleasure, as he grits his teeth, cock twitching at the sight before him, watching his dick slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release around the base of his cock. 

It wasn’t much longer, until he notched his cock as deep as he could, holding himself as he gave only shallow thrusts, his hot release pumping into you, continuing to fuck it deeper, “gotta make sure it sticks, don’t we, sweetheart” he murmurs with a smile, as he captures your lips in a kiss, cock still stuffed inside of you, “can’t let you get away from me now. It’d be much harder with a baby, won’t it?” 

And he’s easing himself out, groaning as he watches your mixed releases beginning to trickle out as the tip of his cock slaps against your weeping cunt. He pools the cum on his fingers, pushing it back in, making you flinch and moan, utterly blissed out, eyes fluttering as you gazed up at him. 

He only smiles the same way he always did, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” 

☆ a/n: i usually don't write things like this (i.e. non/con), but the dub feral gojo lines lived rent free in my head, until i wrote this (they still do, it's fine) I also don't post fics this often, but I am writing a lot of fics.

☆ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @miss-nightray

[ghostboneswrites2]

Virgin

Summary: Reader is a virgin. Daryl might as well be.

Alexandria // pre-Negan era ; established but unlabeled relationship

Super mild corruption kink vibes (if you squint) on both sides. Reader is a nervous wreck, Daryl is kinda clueless but charming, skilled, and smooth as ever.

This is long and I'm not sorry about it.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: slight age gap, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p-in-v, generally embarrassingly graphic and descriptive smut, drinking (not drunk sex), loss of virginity, profanity

        Your hands shook as you filled two glasses with whiskey. Daryl would be over any minute. You had this date planned all week. Daryl was typically pretty busy with his bike or recruiting with Aaron, but he always made time for you when he could. Neither of you ever put a label to it -- boyfriend, girlfriend, partners, lovers -- it was all the same and those words never uttered from either of your lips. It just was what it was, and it made you both happy, whatever that meant. You did, however, often wonder what you really were to him. You liked to think he'd always choose you, but how could you know? You never would, not until it came down to an issue where you were a choice over something else. 

        You replayed your conversation with Rosita in your head all day, pacing nervously in your shared home with Rosita and Tara as you tried to rationalize how you would move forward with this newfound information.

        "So, spill! How is it with Daryl?" Rosita asked curiously, drawing out Daryl's name with a sultry, mocking tone.

        "Oh, things are good! He's coming over tonight, actually." You smiled softly to yourself.

        "No, dummy!" She giggled, slapping your arm playfully. "I mean in bed! Is he rough? Tender? Does he have any weird fetishes? Is he a boob guy or an ass guy? I peg him for an ass guy but I could be wrong."

        "Uh -- What?" You were stunned? In bed? You really never thought about that.

        "Come on, don't be greedy! Share the details!" Rosita practically begged.

        "Details.. Right. Well, there aren't any, really." You said slowly.

        "What?" She gasped. "Don't tell me he's the vanilla missionary type."

        "Vanilla what? No, I just mean we haven't really.."

        "You haven't had sex?!" She gawked at you. "(Y/N), stop right now."

        "Is that a bad thing?"

        "Men have needs, (Y/N). And so do we! It's the end of the world!" She shook your shoulders. "You gotta get your rocks off!"

        Rocks off? What did that even mean? You weren't really that much younger than him. You were twenty when the dead began to roam the earth. But, you were a virgin then, and you were still one now. You never liked anyone enough to get so vulnerable with them. You heard the rumors at school when girls would give it up 'too easily,' or when the guys at your jobs would be snickering about a girl they slept with. What her boobs were like, how she sounded, all the flaws they found with her body. You just thought it would be so foolish to put yourself out there like that, to be one of those girls they were talking about. How could you ever trust someone enough to see and feel every part of you after all of that?

        It wasn't that you didn't get turned on. You did, as much as anyone else. You  just took care of yourself. Plus, it wasn't like the apocalypse provided many opportunities for your first time.. Or did it? Had you been missing signals? Passing by your chances to get naked with someone? Did he even want that? How would you approach it?

        A knock at the door yanked you out of your thoughts. Oh god, was he there already? Was it time to get your rocks off?

        "Hey!" You grinned anxiously at Daryl as you swung the door open. He noticed your nerves right away. He raised an eyebrow.

        "Hey." He greeted. "Y'alright?"

        "Huh? Oh! Yeah." You waved him off. 

        "Well, uh, can I come in?" He asked. You realized you were standing there, blocking his entry, which you never did. You always threw the door open and walked away, allowing him to enter on his own accord and make himself comfortable. You internally facepalmed. 

        "Oh, duh." You chuckled as you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "I poured us some drinks."

        "Cool." He nodded, stepping over to the table where two equally filled glasses stood waiting. He grabbed one and took a sip.

        You glanced him over. Clean clothes, no sweaty smell; he bathed for you. His eyes scanned you just as quick. He was a little surprised at your dress. It wasn't extravagant, just a floral sundress that fit you in all the right places,but you never wore dresses unless Rosita and Tara forced you for an event. You were more of a jeans and a tee kind of gal.

        "Pretty dress." He complimented.

        "Thanks." You blushed, smoothing your hands over it.

        "Rosita make ya wear that for me?" He wondered as he took another sip.

        "Oh! No. I just-- Uh.." You stuttered. God, why were you so nervous? He had to know something was up. You never struggled to talk to him. He was you dearest companion.

        "Just wanted to look pretty for me." He concluded with a smirk. Your face felt like it was melting right off the bone.

        You chuckled nervously and grabbed your own glass, taking a gulp, hoping to calm your nerves.

        "Sure you're alright?" He asked again.

        "Mm-hm!" You hummed with an eager nod. "I'm fine!"

        He shook his head and swirled the liquid around in his glass. 

        "You, uh.. Find us a movie for tonight?" 

        "A movie..? Oh! Right! Yes." You hurried over to the coffee table where a copy of School of Rock sat idly. "Do you like Jack Black?"

        "Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Think I've seen his stuff before."

        "Oh! He's funny. My brother used to watch all of his movies. Did you know he had a band?" You rambled.

        "Nah." He shook his head. "Didn't know."

        "It started with a T I think. I can't remember what they were called." You went on as you bent over to set the disc in the tray and get the movie ready. When you turned around you nearly dropped your glass. He was standing right behind you. "Oh.." You breathed. "You scared me."

        She studied your every feature, trying to figure you out. You were never a mystery to him. He liked that. You never seemed to be keeping anything from him, never had an ulterior motive. You were always a raw person. He never had to try and decipher you like he felt he had to with most girls he liked in the past.

        "Why you actin' weird?" He asked in a low husk.

        "Weird?" You squeaked. "I'm not--"

        "Ya are." He argued. "Real weird. And you never wear dresses."

        "I do wear dresses sometimes--"

        "Only when someone makes ya.You don't ever gotta dress up for me. Ya know that." 

        "W-- I know, I just.."

        "Then why?" He catechized you mercilessly. Your knees felt weak under the weight of this burden of nerves and unsureness.

        "I just..." You were at a loss. How could you play this off? You decided to try your best with whatever your brain could muster for an excuse. You straightened up and crossed your arms. "I just thought it'd be nice to look good for you, Daryl Dixon. Is that a problem?"

        He smirked a little, finding amusement in your sad excuse for confidence. He shook his head. "Nah, no problem at all."

        "Good. Now, excuse me so I can get out movie started."

----

        About a half hour into the movie and you were still imploding. Was it time to make the move? How could you do that when you couldn't even bare to look at him? Hell, you two had never even kissed. You just... Watched movies, sat close enough to be touching, snuck off on forest strolls, you know, normal things. Or was that not normal? Were you supposed to have initiated something more by now?

        He had been sneaking little glances at you the whole time, registering your faint expressions of worry. What was on your mind that had you so riled up? Had he done something? He doubted it. So what was it?

        His arm that was outstretched on the back of the couch behind you twitched a little. He moved to play with your hair but you stood up abruptly. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." 

        You sped off to the upstairs bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your internal battles were written all over your face. He had to know something was up. Actually, you knew he did, because he asked you what was wrong like three times before the movie began. Shit, what now?

        You took a breath and splashed some cold water over your face in efforts to ground yourself, patting it dry with a hand towel. Okay, (Y/N). It's time. Get over your fears and just make the move. As soon as you figure out what the move is, anyways.

        Maybe you could just kiss him and he'd initiate the rest. That's how it works in the movies sometimes, right? Right. Exactly. You got this. Just go down there, and kiss him. No questions asked.

        So, you marched down the stairs, strode to the couch, and froze, staring down at him with wide eyes as he sat there with a questioning gaze. Shit, what were you doing again?

        "Everything alright?" He finally broke the silence that was somehow louder than the audio from the movie.

        "What?" You asked, stunned, forgetting you had just stomped all the way down stairs and right over to him and then froze, blocking his view of the movie. "Oh, uh--"

        He stood up just then, piercing blue eyes beaming into you.

        "Y'gon' tell me what the hell's got your panties all in a wad or what?" He asked impatiently. "You're freakin' me out."

        "I am?" You mumbled. "I just.."

        Oh, screw it. You're backed into a corner, now. You only have one option. As quick as you could, you tippy-toed up and pecked him on the lips. You face turned red immediately. A small, amused smile crept up at the corners of his lips.

        "All that just to kiss me?" He chuckled. "Didn't have to dress up for that."

        "What? Uh -- Oh. Well, I.." You stumbled and tripped over your thoughts. It wasn't just to kiss him, and his reaction was not what you anticipated. Where was the movie moment? The fireworks and explosions? Wasn't he supposed to grab you by the cheeks and kiss you passionately and carry you to bed? What the hell?

        "Ya what? Were ya that nervous? Thought I'd bite or somethin'?" He joked.

        Bite? Is that a sex thing?

        It was all too much. You were in way over your head. You had no idea how this was supposed to work. You felt nauseous, your face was numb, and suddenly you felt it rising from your gut to your throat. Was it vomit? Yes, but not the material kind.

`        "Rosita said we should have sex!"You blurted, eyes wide like saucers as you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep anything else from escaping.

        Word vomit.

        Daryl was stunned completely. It took him a minute to process what you had said. He blinked.

        "Rosita said what?" He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't listen to that. Don't gotta do that  just 'cause she said. We can do that when ya want to, not when someone tells ya."

        He turned around and took his empty glass back to the kitchen, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. It was admittedly adorable that the thought of going to bed with him would mess you up so bad all night. 

        You were still frozen solid with your hand over your mouth as he grabbed the bottle of whisky. You dropped your hand to your side and looked around for your glass. You picked it up off the coffee table and gulped down the last half of it. Just as he was starting to pour is second serving, you spoke up.

        "I do want to."

        He paused, peering up at you through his eyelashes without actually moving his head up to show you his face. He set the bottle down and thought for a moment.

        "Uh, sex -- I mean." You clarified. Again, he tried not to laugh. There was no need for clarification. His deductive reasoning was very much adequate to handle such a statement.

        He shook his head and poured his glass before he walked back over to you.

        "Do ya now?" He asked quietly, eyeing you intensely as he took a swig. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Why did you feel so dry all of a sudden? He seemed to read your mind as he offered you a sip from his glass, which you gladly took.

        "I do." You said unsteadily, failing to feign confidence.

        "Ya sure?"

        "Why wouldn't I be?" You raised a brow, crossing your arms. He took the glass out of your hand and set it on the coffee table.

        "Ya been drinkin'."

        "I'm not drunk."

        "But it wasn't your idea to begin with." He pointed out. "Le'me ask ya.. If Rosita never said nothin', would ya even be considerin' this right now?"

        You didn't respond. He had a point.

        "Exactly." He confirmed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "We don't gotta rush into nothin' like that."

        "I've thought about it." You blurted. Blurting was quickly becoming a habit of yours, you were learning. You gulped.

        "Have ya now?" He smirked. He knew that already. Of course you did, just like he had plenty of times. You were both adults with desires. He wasn't blind to that.

        "Uh-huh." You nodded slowly. "Every time I--"

        Your hand slapped over your mouth again. What were you doing? Were you really about to admit that you fantasized about him every time you touched yourself?

        "Every time ya what?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "Played with yourself? That's okay." He shrugged. "Everybody does that and if they say they don't, they're lyin'. What're you supposed to think about? Ya supposed to count the cracks in the ceilin' or somethin?"

        While he enjoyed the way you squirmed under the pressure of this conversation, he still wanted to make light of it. He joked to make it easier for you.

        "Do you think about it?" You asked quietly. His face lit up a little. It was much more amusing when the spotlight was on you. 

        "I mean," he shrugged. "What else would I think about?"

        You blushed. He thinks about you when he touches himself too?

        "I dunno.." You shrugged sheepishly. "I just..." You realized how foolish and childlike you must have looked to him right there. You straightened up and held your head high. "Well, I want to."

        "I don't think ya mean that."

        "I do." You insisted.

        He looked you over. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, but he was nervous. He had no idea what kind of experience a pretty girl like you would have over his drunken one nighters and failed attempts at relationships in the past. You never told him you were a virgin. After all, it never came up.

        "Okay." He nodded. "Wha'd'ya wanna do, then?"

        You faltered. What?

        "What?"

        "Wha'd'ya wanna do?" He asked again. 

        "Uh..." You glanced around the room. What did he mean? How many ways were there to... What? "I wanna... have.. sex?" You said, more as a question than a definitive. 

        "Uh-huh. But there's lots o' ways to have sex." 

        He plopped back down on the couch, glancing at the movie credits rolling behind you. He had a feeling you'd back out when you realized that you were in over your head.

        "Um, I want to..." You waded through the marshy wetland of thoughts and memories inside your head, trying to recall every piece of erotic information you had ever known. What was it Rosita had said? "Vanilla missionary?"

        He stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah? That's all?"

        Well, shit, man. What the hell else did he want from you?"

        "And..." You trailed off. 

        "Y'ain't ready for all that yet." He spoke up for you.

        "I am too!" 

    ��   "No, y'ain't." He shook his head, still clearly amused.

        "I am! I just.... I need you to teach me." You said.

        "Teach ya what?"

        "I'm... I'm a virgin." You said just above a whisper. Wow, that was embarrassing to say out loud. He nearly choked. He was not expecting that. At least it meant you wouldn't have high expectations that he couldn't meet or something.

        "Really?" 

        "Yeah." You nodded. "But, I'm an adult and I know what I want. So, show me." You demanded.

----

        After a long battle to get him there, you finally had him in  your room. Both of you just standing there awkwardly in the dim light of a small lamp beside your bed.

        "So." You began.

        "Mm." He hummed, stepping closer to you, running a finger over your shoulder to brush  the hair off of it.

        "Do you... Wanna kiss me?" You asked. A small smile just barely spread on his lips. Of course he did. He just hoped he could make it as tender and special as you deserved.

        He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips against yours, hovering there for a moment before he connected with them fully. Slow, sweet rhythm was what he aimed for. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but when he went to pull back and you followed him like a magnet, he figured he was doing okay.

        He kissed you a little longer, hands resting gently on your sides to keep you steady as you swooned for him. If he hadn't been so sure he had to be the lead in this whole scenario, he would have melted into a puddle. Your lips were so soft, and you were just so damn sweet. He loved how eager you were for him. He just couldn't imagine taking advantage of you, which was why he made you walk in a straight line before he brought you up to your room. Just in case you had more to drink than he thought.

        When he pulled away for real this time, you were desperate for more.

        "Why'd you stop?" You pouted under your breath. He let out a soft chuckle.

        "All in time, darlin'." He said as he guided you back to the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down.

        "Now what?" You asked. He considered your question.

        "Lay down." He instructed softly.  You did. 

        He crawled over you. Your heart began to pound. Was this it?

        He leaned down into your neck and started planting small kisses along the length of it. You gasped quietly. It tickled in the best way. Your hands naturally gravitated to his chest, resting them against him. He trailed his lips down to your collarbone as his finger slid the spaghetti strap of your dress down over your shoulder to keep it out of the way. His kisses lined over your collarbone and all over your chest, at least the upper half. You laid your hands on his shoulders.

        He hadn't even touched you anywhere significant but your panties were absolutely soaked. Your eyelids fluttered a little. Why did this feel so good already?

        He went to tug your dress down to expose your breasts but he paused. He looked up at you. "This okay?" He whispered as his finger hooked the dress. You nodded. He slid it down and took a moment to admire the sight beneath him. You were braless. Your nipples hardened with the cold air. Goosebumps peppered over your supple flesh.

        He leaned down and went back to kissing softly around the mounds of breast, one hand gripping gently as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. You gasped audibly at the sensation, reminding him that he was doing things right. Your hips twitched as the sensitive nerves shot tingles all the way down to your your pussy. Your walls twitched.

        He worked his way to the other nipple, earning the same reaction. He bravely nibbled ever so gently on the second one, pulling the tiniest whine right out of your throat. He smirked a little. So reactive, you were. He almost felt guilty, like he was taking some kind of innocence away from you. Something you could never get back, not that you'd want to.

        His hands slid up your outer thighs. He looked at you again for permission. You nodded. He slid the dress up over your hips and started kissing and nibbling your inner thighs. You twitched and exhaled at the more sensitive spots, and when he got as close as he could to your panties without actually touching them, he pulled back and looked up at you. You were flushed and eager, and it was killing him inside. He smirked again and placed a quick little kiss over your panties, right where he guessed your clit would be. You gasped and jerked at the sudden pressure. He hooked his finger under the waistline of your jeans, again, glancing up at you for permission. You didn't nod this time.

        "Please.." You whispered. 

        He was on top of the world. Hell, he owned the universe. You were begging him for something he had dreamt of giving you.

        He slid your panties down your thighs and over your feet, tossing them to the side somewhere. He stared down at your glistening slit. You were already dripping.

        He traced a single finger over the front of your pelvis, feeling the smooth, freshly shaved skin beneath his callous.

        "Ya didn't have to shave for me." He whispered. You blushed.

        "I just--"

        "Shh. It's okay." He cooed, gently running that same finger down your slit with painful gentleness. Your mouth gaped immediately, eyebrows pressed together. You had touched yourself plenty, but it felt so different when he did it. So new. "All this for me?" He teased, holding up his finger coated in your wetness. You blushed again. He raised his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. You watched, helplessly infatuated with the dreamy sight below. Dreamy. Were you dreaming?

        He lowered his face down, kissing softly over your lips before he finally swiped his tongue through your slit. You jerked and gasped, as you did for the next few seconds as he started to acclimate you to the sensation of his tongue.

        "Relax." She whispered. You gasped again when his tongue glided flatly over your cunt, but you let out a shaky exhale and did as he said. You relaxed. When he felt you melt down into the bed, that was when he really got to work, flicking his tongue over and around your clit until he found a rhythm that you responded to. Your breaths and inhales slowly blended into a pattern of moans and tiny whines. He had you now, exactly how he needed you. Comfortable in bliss.

        He slowed his pace then sped it up a few times, memorizing every reaction your body had to offer. When he stopped licking and started sucking on your clit, he slid a single finger inside you. If you were a virgin he was gonna have to loosen you up and get you ready. He wasn't one to gloat, but he was probably thicker than most, so he knew you'd need as much help as you could get.

        You let out a moan as his digit slid inside you. That paired with the ache in your clit as he sucked at it was giving you visions of stars.

        He got back to licking in little circles over your clit, slow at first, but then he sped up. He slipped another finger in, massaging your insides as your legs began to shake around his shoulders. 

        "Oh god."  You breathed. You felt a buzz in your lower half, a warm feeling building in your lower abdomen. You were getting close, and he could tell. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you to be as eager for his cock as you were for his mouth. However, he wasn't entirely sure he'd last that long. You were so tight around his fingers, convulsing and pulsating, and he hadn't felt the inside of a woman in a long time.

        So, he took you all the way. He kept his pace with his tongue and fingers as he built you up, brick by brick, until you crumbled. It didn't take long at all. You shuddered and let out a loud moan, hips rocking against his face as you trembled and whined and rode out your orgasm. 

        It was more than you could have ever anticipated. Your fingers were nothing compared to what he had just done to you. You didn't think you'd ever recover.

        He slowed down, just barely gliding his tongue over your clit and twitching his fingers inside you to ensure you rode out the full length of your high, only pulling away and slipping out when he was sure you were overstimulated enough.

        Your chest was rising and dropping as you stared down at him and his wet mess of a chin. Your lids were heavy. He climbed back up to your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before he stood up off the bed and began to strip.

        Oh, right, the sex part. You had forgotten entirely. Your eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers. They grew wide when he slid those off, too, and the sight of his bare cock hit you. It was long and thick, and you had no idea how you were going to take all that. He didn't expect you to, though. He'd try of course, but he'd be carefully monitoring for any signs of pain.

        When he climbed back on top of you, you stared up at him nervously. He leaned down and left little kisses along your jaw before finally resting his lips on yours. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back.

        "Ya still want this?" He mumbled against you.

        "Yes." You whispered. 

        He took your approval and looked down and guided his tip to your entrance. You bit your lip with anticipation when you felt the hard pressure of his head against you. He looked at you. You nodded. With that final gesture, he pushed the tip in. Your face contorted. He watched you as he pushed in a little more, and a little more, stopping when you whimpered.

        "Y'alright?"

        "Uh-huh." You squeaked.

        "Y'sure?"

        "Yeah. Keep going. I want you to." You insisted. Well, if you insisted.

        He pushed in further, achingly slow until he bottomed out. When the base of his shaft connected with your pelvis, your eyes widened. You let out a deep moan. Your own fingers could neve stretch you that way, could never reach that far inside you. It was an entirely new feeling. You couldn't tell how you liked it just yet.

        When you didn't protest, he pulled out and pumped back in, slowly at first, soft strokes, until your body relaxed and you were visibly acclimated. 

        When he was confident you could take it, that was when he sped up, fucking you harder and  faster by the minute. Your body tensed up around him. He could feel your walls clench and pulsate around his cock. He was starting to think you might cum again.

        He leaned into your ear.

        "Can ya cum again for me?"

        Your eyes glazed over, lids falling lazily over the majority of your vision. Between your moans and whimpering you managed to choke out the words; "I-- I think so.."

        "Mm." He growled lowly. You gripped his arms tightly, tuning out every thought as you pictured his cock pumping in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you had no idea existed until that moment. A familiar warmth washed over you. Tension in your stomach built and built, until finally.

        "Yes!" You gasped, as if answering his question again.

        "C'mon, girl.." He panted. He was also terrifyingly close, teetering on the edge. He only held back in hopes he'd squeeze another orgasm out of you first.

        A high pitched whine escaped you as your body buzzed, shivers crawling over you as you came. If your sounds weren't enough, he could feel the pulsation around his cock and he knew he was almost in the clear. He clenched his jaw, trying as hard as he could to hold it back while he fucked you through your climax. Eventually he just couldn't take it anymore. 

        He pulled out as fast as he could, groaning as he stroked and milked hot cum out onto your stomach. You were breathless and sex drunk as you laid limp on the bed, watching him. When he caught his breath, he leaned down and grabbed your panties. He used them to wipe you clean of your own juices and his, before doing the same for himself.

        "Ya gon' make it?" He teased you in your incapacitated state.

        "Yep." You said lazily. "'Cause I'm gonna need  more."

        He chuckled. "I need time to--"

        "I meant tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day." 

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[amiableness]

Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can't tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you'd like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy's eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him. But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night. 

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn't spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them. 

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction. 

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy. 

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. 

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud. 

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you're off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed. 

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you've been on my mind for months—years, if I'm being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. So much closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door."

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

“Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[withahappyrefrain]

“Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!”

Forced proximity with best friend Bob?

A chance to do friends to lovers with Bob? Say no more!

"Remind me to never let Javy book the Air B&B again."

Bob chuckled at your comment, despite agreeing, "Well at least we have an actual bed. Reuben and Mickey have bunk beds."

"So all the single people have to suffer?" You scoffed, continuing to shuffle through your luggage.

The annual lake trip was going well, until the room arrangements were revealed. It wasn't that you minded sharing a room with Bob.

It was the lack of a second bed.

Twenty years ago, when you were both eight, this wouldn't have been a problem. But then puberty, high school, and base camp occurred, which brought to light the crush you had been harboring on your best friend.

"We'll make it work. And if it's that bad, I can take the floor," he offered, always the considerate one. It was one of the many traits you adored about Bob.

"Robert James Floyd, absolutely not!" You scolded, eliciting a chuckle out of him. It was deep and low, just like his voice and you didn't want to admit how it made your knees nearly shake.

"I've slept in barracks before, it's the same thing."

The comment would have gotten a laugh out of you. In fact, you would have even made a remark back, probably about how you've also slept in truck beds and underneath a wide open sky.

But then Bob Floyd took his shirt off.

It wasn't even your first time seeing him shirtless, far from it. But now he had filled out, with muscle and a dusting of hair that trailed down from his chest, past his stomach.

God, was he always this hot? Had to be and somehow you just didn't notice it until later. Perhaps that was the worst part; you fell for him because of who he was. It wasn't as if he had some type of glowup over summer break, like you'd see so often in those stupid teen movies you'd watch to feel better about yourself. No, Bob Floyd was always a beautiful soul, inside and out.

And he wasn't yours. Couldn't be. The risk of him not reciprocating was too high. Plus, your family was friends with his'. That meant Thanksgiving, Christmas, Fourth of July, hell, even fucking Memorial Day gatherings would be tainted. All thanks to you.

The pressure was too high, the risk was too great.

But you could look, right?

"Sunshine?"

Bob's childhood now turned adult nickname for you broke the spell. Your wide eyes met his oceanic's. His hair, which had gotten darker over the years and now had threads of early greys, was mussed from taking off his shirt, some curls over the front of his forehead, others to the side. White shirt in hand, highlighting how massive they were when clutching the alabaster fabric. Brow's knitted together, combined with his narrow eyes and titled head created a downright adorable look of confusion.

"You,,,," he briefly turned around, to see if there was something on the wall behind him and that's why you wouldn't look at him, "You okay?"

You nodded eagerly, probably too eagerly, "Yeah sorry....I uh spaced out. Probably thinking of ways to get back at Javy."

Bob smiled, despite it never reaching his eyes when he nodded. You had turned around so quickly, unable to make such an observation.

"I'm going to go take a shower," grabbing the top and bottom you could find the quickest in your suitcase. You avoided eye contact with him, too busy feeling shame for getting caught doing something so lewd.

Rushing, you turned the water on in the showers. Focusing on ensuring you grabbed the correct products. Get the water to the perfect temperature and pressure, it exists, it has to exist because if it doesn't then you'll think about the dark body hair that went past the waistband of his jeans.

For about twenty minutes, it worked. You did your skincare routine, brushed your teeth for nearly two minutes, even blow dried your hair. Applied a lip mask, that stupid lash and brow serum the worker at Sephora conned you into buying. Moisturize every inch of your body, even though it was the dead of summer and you would sweat it all off before sunrise. That stupid reusable eye mask that you got because it was on clearance. Have you done the Wordle today, you should do the Wordle. You should do anything other than thinking about sharing a bed with your shirtless best friend.

It worked. Even put on some music, not too loud, just enough to hear and hum along.

It worked. For a while. But then you had used nearly every product in your cosmetics bag and it was time to get dressed.

Fuck.

You could never match a pair of socks, not even if your life depended on it. But tonight, fucking tonight of all nights, you had to grab a whole matching set.

The pale pink lace trimmed cami, paired with joggers. An oversized T-shirt that went further down than the pair of matching satin shorts.

You had brought the set when you were talking to a guy and thought you would be able to move on from the wonder that is Bob Floyd. What a fucking joke.

Maybe you could wear them, run back out to grab something else and run back in to change. No, why would anyone do that? If anything, it'll just make it more obvious that you didn't want to wear it in front of him. But what if you didn't change and Bob thought you had worn essentially casual lingerie on purpose? What if he found that weird? What if-

"You okay in there Sunny?" His voice always calmed you, always able to break you out of whatever self inflicted spiral you were on.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded despite Bob being unable to see you, "Yeah, I'm good. Just developed a more extensive skincare routine."

A short burst of laughter was released on the other side of the door, "You don't need all that. Already pretty."

"Bob Floyd, you are....." Charming. Amazing. Too good to be true. The love of my life,

"....too kind."

"Just telling the truth," his feet audibly stepped away. The butterflies in your chest were still exploding from his words. He made you feel safe, that this was Bob you were talking about. He'd never think you'd do something lewd or negative on purpose. Bob knew your intentions to be good. After all, he was your Bobby.

Just not in the way you want.

Your head cleared long enough to walk out the door, into the well lit bedroom. When he first made eye contact with you, you didn't even falter, simply smiling at him.

But Bob didn't say anything at first. Usually he'd make a teasing but well meaning comment about you taking so long. His thin pink lips parted, yet no words came through.

"Are you okay Bobby?"

The concern in your voice broke the trance. His features soften, his lips quirking into a half smile, "Yeah, I'm good. Just gonna shower and then head to bed."

Tension had left the room. Flopping down onto the bed, you scrolled through social media, watching all the videos and photos the squad had posted today.

"Uh, Sunshine?" You turned and lost your breath. Bob's hair was freshly washed, ends beginning to curl. A white shirt that was barely translucent and grey sweatpants that hung low on his lithe hips.

Bob Floyd had downright slutty hips.

"I don't think the bed is big enough for both of us to lay down."

Your brow crumpled in confusion, "Javy said this was a queen."

"Javy thinks anything that isn't a single is a Queen." Bob explained, not phased at all by this mistake.

Clearly it wasn't the first time. But you were still going to kill Javy Machado tomorrow morning.

"Here, if we both sleep on our sides, it'll be good."

"Like spooning?"

"Uh yeah," a hand came up to rub the back of his neck, "That's one way to think about it."

You supposed it was better than feeling his ass against yours, "Alright, well....come on in, the water's fine."

It took some time to figure out the arrangement. What was one supposed to do with their other hand? The final agreement consisted of your hips flushed against Bob's, his arm slung over your waist.

Zero awkwardness in the air. It felt....natural.

"Night Bobby."

"Night Sunshine."

Things were looking up. There was no way this would change your friendship or threaten to reveal your well kept secret. Sleep was well within your reach.

Then Bob moved. And kept moving. Due to his closeness, you felt every maneuver, no matter how subtle.

"Floyd, do you mind?"

His movements continued, as if he was trying to avoid your body while somehow simultaneously hang onto it.

A loud huff left your lips, "Stop wiggling around, I'm trying to sleep! Wait, what's that...."

Oh.

Your hips were flushed against his, your ass perfectly fitting the space formed by his thigh meeting his hip. Right against his hardened groin.

The sweatpants were thin. He didn't have anything underneath. Thanks to the flimsy fabric of your shorts, you could feel him greatly.

You were in bed with Bob Floyd. Bob Floyd was in bed with you, rocking an erection. You were being held by Bob Floyd, in bed. Bob Floyd had a huge cock, a grower.

Silence filled the room, tension thick enough to be cut with a butter knife. Neither one wanting to move, for fear of making it worse.

He let out a shaky breath. He developed a rhythm, almost imitating one sleeping.

You shifted, just enough for your thigh to rise, but subtle enough to play off as nothing.

His breath hitched.

Inch by inch, your hips began to gyrate, rubbing against his clothed cock.

"B-Bobby," you were panting, as if having run a marathon. His fingers sank into your hips, gripping the plush flesh as he flipped you onto your back, towering over you.

You moved to sit on your elbows, to raise yourself up to argue. From years of play fighting, he was fast as lightning, pinning your hands above your head.

Bob slowly lowered himself down until his nose brushed against your, his soft hair brushing your forehead.

"Twelve years." Was all he said, gritting through his teeth, squeezing your hands in hopes it would tethered him to Earth.

All that came out of your mouth was a hum of confusion. In the moonlit light, you searched for his eyes, trying to read them.

"Stuart Hendricks asked you to prom. You had been hoping all month he would ask you. Hell, I even helped him. Told him your favorite musical and which song to sing. I was excited for ya. And then you said yes to him and I wanted to punch him. I never had thought about fighting someone until then. Took me a week to realize why I was so angry."

Oh my God.

"Eight to ten years ago," you confessed. It was Bob's turn to knit his eyebrows together.

"Eight to ten?" He repeated, "Why is there a range?"

"I remember feeling....funny when you came back from boot camp. You had filled out a bit and had on those adorable military issued glasses. But it took me some time to accept what I was feeling," you explained.

How you found those glasses endearing was beyond Bob's understanding. But it didn't agitate him, it was just one of the many things he loved about you.

"That's a lot of time lost," his voice was barely a whisper.

You nodded, "Can we.....can we start making up for it?"

"Yes," he nodded, dropping his head lower, "one hundred percent yes."

His lips were like heaven. He molded his body to yours, chests flushed together, limbs tangled within one another. A hand that spanned the entirety of his neck, his thumb guiding your chin upwards so he could deeper explore your mouth.

"Heard you singing....and it just felt....felt like we were living together," he confessed in between kisses, "felt so right, like that's what it's supposed to be like."

Nodding feverishly, your hands found purchase in his thick hair. Tugging on the sun kissed locks, earning a groan from Bob that made your thighs clench.

"Can....can I touch you?" Always the gentlemen, your Bobby.

"As long as you don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it sunshine," his mouth latched onto your neck, leaving open mouth kisses along the side, teeth gently grazing your sensitive skin. A hand grabbed your leg, hitching it to wrap around his waist.

Bob Floyd was fucking heaven.

[munsonsmixtapes]

i’m wondering if i could put in a request about a fic with insecure! reader with eddie munson?? and it’s reader like hating how her body looks and she refuses to have sex with eddie with her top off and eddie starts to notice all these little things and he realizes what’s going on and he just worships her body😇😇

Eddie Munson x insecure!fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) nipple play, oral (f receiving) body worshipping, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, reader gets a hickey, wee bit of dom!Eddie

The door to the room you and Eddie shared bursted open as you both stepped into it, in the midst of a make out session. You had been going at it since you both stepped through the door and had absolutely no plans of stopping anytime soon.

Your hands found the buckle of his belt and he clanked as his tongue swiped back and forth along the seem of your lips. You let him inside as you continued to work on his belt before he removed his pants.

His shirt came off too along with his underwear while you just got rid of your jeans, making sure that your body was still covered. As many times as you had slept together, you still felt nervous to get completely naked around Eddie. He hadn’t said anything about it, but he had become worried about you. Worried that you were feeling too insecure to show what you looked like.

He didn’t care if you kept your shirt on, but he just wanted you to be comfortable. Wanted you to feel good. You were always enthusiastic when it came to sex, but he could tell there was still some underlying insecurity that always found a way to seep through.

It was in the way you would always close your eyes when he looked at you. The way they would shut tight like you were in pain and not the good kind. The way your shirts had gotten bigger as you were desperately trying to hide what your body looked like. How did you think he wouldn’t notice? He noticed everything about you.

“Hey,” he said, breaking apart from you, his Bambi eyes boring into yours. “What’s going on, doll?” He asked as his finger began to stroke your neck, something he always did when he was trying to comfort you.

“Nothing,” you replied, avoiding his eye contact, not quite ready to confess the truth.

“Hey, eyes on me,” he grabbed you by your chin so gently and forced you to look him in the eyes. “What’s going on, hon. You just don’t seem like yourself.”

“I’m fine, Eddie. I swear.”

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m here when you want to talk. I’m more than happy to pick up where we left off, but I feel like we need to have a discussion first.” He let go of you then passed you to sit on the edge of the bed.

You kept your back to him, looking over your shoulder ever so slightly to see what he was doing. He was looking directly at you, that same warm smile on his lips. The one that was always reserved for you.

He patted his lap and you went over to him, sitting to his left instead. You didn’t want to put your weight on him. That was why you were always afraid to get on top when he offered.

“I-I always keep my shirt on because I’m afraid to show you my body,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. Admitting the words out loud just made them more true.

“Oh, honey,” Eddie replied, quick to take your hands in his. “I love you no matter what you look like.” You knew he was telling the truth but couldn’t help but feel like he was just saying that just to make you feel better.

“Really? So if I took off my shirt right now, you’d be satisfied with what you see?”

“Of course I would. And you know it’s the inside that counts,” he said, his pointer finger touching the spot where your heart was beating rapidly.

“Oh please! You’re just saying that!” Now you were getting angry with him and feel guilty for feeling that way because you knew that Eddie was just trying to help you navigate through a difficult time.

“I swear, I’m not. If you want to show me, show me. If you don’t, fine. It’s okay.”

“Fine, here,” you said, getting exasperated. You quickly pulled off your top, your body naked except for your panties. Eddie’s eyes widened as he looked at you. He had seen your body so many times before, but he hadn’t seen it in a while since you started wearing those big shirt all those weeks ago.

“Fuck, doll,” he said through a breath. “You’re just as beautiful as I remember. Maybe even more so.”

“You’re lying.”

“What do I have to do to get you to believe me?” He asked, standing from the bed. “Is this not enough for you?” He pointed to his rock hard cock that was tenting in his boxers. “I’m more than happy to worship every inch of your body until you believe me.”

Eddie took your bare hips in his hands, letting them run along your skin until they pressed against your back, pushing your body closer to his.

“Want me to show you how fucking hot I think you are?” His eyes were now filled with fire and you wouldn’t dare diffuse the flame.

“Please,” was all you needed to say before Eddie’s lips were in yours. It was a slow kiss, something that didn’t really happen often between the two of you. They were quick and messy as you tried to get each other to your climaxes since you always seemed to need to fuck each other in places that were public.

He turned you around so that you were facing the bed then backed you up to it, your calves hitting edge of it.

“Lie down,” he said softly and helped you do so, one of his hands holding your back while the other cradled your head. Once you were on the mattress, he lowered himself on top of you, his lips colliding with yours as he intertwined your fingers.

“Your lips are so soft,” he mumbled against them. “And I love how you always wear that chapstick that you know I love the taste of.” He pressed one more kiss to your lips then moved on to your cheek.

“I could kiss these all day,” he said. “Love how they feel underneath my lips. How they get so warm. Love when you blush for me, doll.”

You realized what he was doing then. He was kissing a spot on your body and telling you what he liked about it. He was so sweet that sometimes you didn’t think you deserved him.

Eddie then moved to your neck, peppering the spot with kisses, taking his time to really love on it. He then began to suck lightly, wanting to give it special attention to return the favor since that always seemed to be the spot on him that you gravitated to.

“And this. God, you smell so good. What is that?”

“You know what it is,” you replied, a smirk on your face even though he couldn’t see it.

“I do,” he took another whiff. “Wonder if you taste as good. Bet you do.”

You let out a gasp as he continued to suck on the skin, his teeth gliding across the spot, causing a moan to fall from your lips. He chuckled and continued, wanting you to make that sound again and again until you reached your orgasm. And then he’d go in for more until you orgasmed as many times as possible until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He licked and sucked and nibbled in your skin, eating up every single sound that fell from your lips. The way you were responding was exactly what he was wanting, hearing how much you were enjoying yourself.

Eddie then pulled back, a pretty bruise forming on your neck accompanied by his shin that was shining along the mark. He was hoping that you wouldn’t cover it up so everyone could see it, but completely understood if you wanted to.

He then got lower, nipping and sucking on your collarbone, his lips colliding with some metal as he did so. He pulled away from you just to see the little capital “E” hanging from your neck, smiling to himself.

“Still wearing this little thing, huh?”

“I always wear it, Eddie,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do. So that way you always have me there wherever you go.”

“You’re so fucking cheesy.”

“But you love it,” he nipped at your bottom lip then moved back down, pressing kisses to one of your tits before taking your nipple into his mouth, licking back and forth across it before giving it a rough suck.

“God, I’ve been dreaming about doing this for weeks. Want you to feel good, doll. Do you feel good?”

“Yes,” the word came out like a moan and he swore it was the hottest thing he had ever hear. He then followed up by grazing your nipple with his teeth, biting down, causing an even louder moan to fall from your mouth.

He continued, biting down harder and you seemed to like that even more, your hands sliding into his hair and giving it a tug at his scalp. He gave one more bite before moving onto your other nipple, giving it the same attention. You were now screaming, wanting him to know just how good he was making you feel already.

Once you had come down from your orgasm, Eddie kissed all the way down your torso until he got to the spot right above your panties. He then spread your legs wide, draping your legs over his shoulders as he lowered himself onto the floor so the both of you would be more comfortable.

“You’re absolutely soaked,” he told you with a devilish grin. “But don’t worry, I’ll clean you up.” He then leaned down, his lips pressing against the fabric of your panties licking at the slick that had leaked onto it. He mouthed at it, his tongue doing pretty much all the work and he could feel you fidgeting under him, wanting him to get to it already.

But Eddie knew that this was your favorite thing that he did so he was going to make you beg for it. Even though this was all about you, he was still going to make you beg a little bit.

“Eddie, please,” you whined.

“Just a minute, sweetheart. Let me finish my work.” He continued to lick and suck on your underwear, wanting you to feel what was happening so you’d beg a little more. God did he love when you begged for him.

“Eddie,” you whined again and he pulled away. He always was a pushover. Especially when it came to you, so it really didn’t take much begging for him to completely give in to you. And that even went for things outside the bedroom.

He removed your legs from him then pulled your panties down slowly, watching you whine for him as he did so. If there was one thing Eddie loved, it was putting on a show. He got your underwear down your legs then tossed it to the side before draping your legs back over his shoulders.

He then grabbed hold of one leg and pressed kisses from your ankle, all the way to the spot on your thigh they was right next to your cunt. He took his time, wanting to love on you even more, whispering to you how much he loved your legs, how he loved when your wore anything short so he had an excuse to stare at them, wanting to place his head between them and make you feel so good that the practically crushed his head.

And then without warning, he buried his face into your cunt, going straight for your clit, sucking on it, but not as much as you were wanting. Just when you were about to whine for him, he went it with more force than he ever had before.

“Oh my god,” you whined and your hands found their way into his hair once again, giving it another tug and he licked and sucked on your clit, your ankles locking at the back of his neck.

“Just like that,” you urged and he did just that, moving lower to your slit, flattening his tongue against it as he licked a long stripe along it.

He then took his time there, doing the exact same thing to that spot, wanting to give it the same attention. But he went slower this time, wanting you to enjoy your favorite part of having sex with him.

Once he felt you yank his hair once more, he went on to the finale, sticking his tongue inside you and he could feel your thighs clenching around his head, another loud moan falling from your lips.

He swirled his tongue around and found just the right spot that made you scream, your back arching as you did so. He curved his tongue to encourage you even more and it did just the trick, another loud scream falling from your lips in the form of his name.

Eddie then pulled his tongue out of you, using it to lick up every last possible drop of your slick that he could, not wanting all of that good stuff to go to waste.

He then pulled away, licking off what he could from his face before using the bottom of his shirt to wipe up the rest.

Eddie collapsed onto the bed beside you and pulled you on top of him, pressing yet another kiss to your lips, this one more quick and messy than the others. His hand gripped the back of your neck as his tongue slid into your mouth, making you moan into his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his hands sliding to your ass, giving it a squeeze which made you yelp. He then had you roll off of him as he got out from underneath you, taking off his own clothes and sliding underneath the blanket.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” you slurred.

“Considering your state, darling, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he pulled you to his chest before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Ask me again in the morning.” He then rested his head on top of yours and the two of you fell asleep peacefully as you finally got the hint that he really did love you as much as he claimed to.

[hotyanderedaddies]

Spending the Night with Your Yandere Vampire Boyfriend

[Yandere! Vampire x Human! GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You've been with your new boyfriend for a few weeks by now, and things were developing really quickly. Much faster than any of your previous relationships.

Your new boyfriend, whom you playfully call Daddy, recently revealed to you that he's a vampire which was a total shock to you.

Well, maybe you should've caught on when he'd only come around at night when the sun was down, you never saw him eat any food, he seemed to avoid garlic at all costs, and he was super pale... and he had vampire fangs.

A total surprise.

Either way, you weren't too scared when Daddy revealed his "secret" to you.

Daddy is perfect boyfriend, honestly.

Daddy knows all of your likes and dislikes, and even loves all of your hobbies. The two of you share the same interests in books, movies, video games-- everything!

And you better since he spent such a long time following you around, studying your every move. Watching. Waiting.

Daddy is a pure gentleman, always treating you with the upmost respect. He virtually worships the ground you walk on, treating you like you're his precious treasure.

Because you are his. All his. And only his.

Daddy really seemed to walk straight out of a daydream, rescuing you from such a dreary life of working retail and attending boring college classes. He really helped to lift you up, especially after so many of your personal relationships seemed to have tapered off once you'd started college.

He only got rid of those who would try to take you away from him. Honest. He did it all for your relationship.

So when the two of you were on one of your dates at Daddy's house, he suggested that you stay the night (well, the morning). He had some sleep aid that he could give you to help you fall asleep during the day; although, dating a vampire was kind of throwing your sleep schedule out of whack.

At first, you were a little nervous since the two of you hadn't done anything past making out, but with one look at the eager face Daddy had, you melted.

"Sure, Daddy," you smiled.

Daddy's smile stretched out his handsome face, and his vampire fangs even poked out.

He grabbed you by the hand, his cool fingers interlocking with yours, as he led you up the stairs to the bedroom. You've never been up to his bedroom since the two of you almost never made it past the couch, so you were a little excited--

The bedroom door swung open and in the middle of the room was the "bed".

"A c-coffin?" you stuttered, your stomach falling to the floor.

"Of course, Darling," Daddy chuckled, dragging you closer to the coffin. "I'm a vampire after all. What did you think I slept in?"

"A bed...?"

"But then how would I keep the sunlight off me?"

...oh.

The coffin seemed to be standard-sized (you've been to one or two funerals, so they weren't completely unfamiliar to you), and it was lined with a clean, white satin that looked incredibly soft to the touch.

But it was a coffin!

And your frantic human brain couldn't help but associate it with death! Hell no, you weren't getting in that thing!

"Um, Daddy?" you mumbled, uncertainty drenching your small voice. "M-maybe we could rush to my apartment to use my bed and I'll put up some curtains?"

Daddy's smile disappeared, quickly being replaced with a deep frown. He narrowed his red eyes in your direction, tightening the grip he had on your hand.

"We won't make it before the sun rises," he growled, his voice deep and curt. "Now, get in our coffin."

When you hesitated, Daddy lost his patience, wrapping both of his steel arms around you. The vampire was much stronger than you are, so he had absolutely no problem forcing you into the tight confines of the small coffin.

Daddy crawled inside right after you, grabbing the lid and slamming it down with a bang. An audible click sounded out, and you were trapped in the dark coffin.

You couldn't see a thing thanks to how dark it was.

The coffin was so compact that you could feel multiple sides-- the back pressed against you and was rather soft, but you could also feel the one of the sides and the top touching you. It was enclosed all around you, trapping you, leaving almost no room for you to even move or wiggle around.

You could barely move.

You could barely breathe.

But there was a cold, hard feature inside the coffin with you, and it snaked both of its large arms around you and roughly yanked you into it.

Daddy buried his nose in your air and moaned loudly as he inhaled your scent.

"Calm down, Darling," he cooed. "Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."

Your heart raced in your chest and you felt dizzy from your panicked hyperventilating.

"It's okay, my sweet darling," Daddy continued to whisper into your ear, keeping you trapped against him. "I know it's a bit of an adjustment, but it'll be worth it, I promise."

He pressed his cool lips against your forehead.

You tried to squirm away, but he was tight against your front and the side of the coffin was tight against your back.

There was no room to move away.

At all.

You're trapped.

"Get some sleep, Darling," Daddy yawned. "I love you."

[generalsmemories]

Unwanted reunion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event

✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death

✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.

NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.

Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.

The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.

But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.

"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."

"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.

"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.

You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.

"It's my duty-"

"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."

Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"

"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.

Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.

"... You know what my answer is."

Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.

Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.

"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.

"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.

"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.

"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.

"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.

"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.

"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."

[monzamash]

★ bargain bin — lando norris

coming clean part II lando norris x you —no warnings, just angst (the spice will be back next time, i promise) read part I here requested by anon; "sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside"

“you can only come in if you promise we’re not going to fight.”

lando nodded, eyes soft. he looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. you didn't know that he had only flown home from a triple header yesterday, you swore once the break up happened that you wouldn't worry about him anymore. but of course you did, secretly checking the race results, betrayed by your curiosity.

“the last thing i want is to fight with you,” he replied, barely above a whisper as you took a step to the side and allowed him into your apartment. 

he was dripping wet from the storm outside, immediately ditching the bomber jacket hanging from his shoulders and kicking off the boots covered in your freshly cut lawn. he was apologetic about bringing the rain into your quaint apartment — he felt safer here than in his own place in monaco. he hated it there now, without you, swearing up and down that nothing but resentment and pain lived in those hallowed walls. 

seeing him in the flesh felt different to what you expected. your heart clenched as he leaned against your couch, hands stuffed into his hoodie and dishevelled curls sweeping across his furrowed forehead. being in the same room for the first time in months changed everything, all the fears you’d built up in your mind melted away and the deep regret of letting go of someone so kind and generous churned in your stomach. 

“you look tired, lan.” 

the nickname caught his attention, eyes locking in on your expression to see how genuine you were — hoping to god you were giving him the same look you gave when you were together. 

“i don’t even know how i managed to drive over here to be honest — just can’t sleep anymore,” lando grumbled, feet shuffling on your carpet. 

“then we should go to bed…” 

his eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion, “wha- are you… are you sure?” 

you nodded and reached out for his hand, “come on.” 

lando followed closely behind, heart thumping in his chest as you closed the bedroom door and walked to your closet, “i still have some of your clothes here,” you whispered, handing him a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts.

“thank you…” he managed to squeak out, tears slightly forming in his eyes, “you always look after me better than anyone else.” 

“i know you’d do the same for me if i was struggling,” you stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you exited the bathroom in your pyjamas. 

lando sighed and held his tongue. all he wanted to do was tell you how beautiful you looked and how much he appreciated your caring nature. instead, he crawled into bed beside you and rested his weary head on the pillow. the sound of the thundering storm outside your window would have been enough to lull him to sleep, especially with the warmth of your body so close to his. but he didn’t want to sleep, not with so many thoughts swirling around his busy mind.

“how have you been?” he asked, causing you to look over at him with a chuckle.

“i thought you were tired…”

lando shrugged and attempted to disguise his small smile, “i was but like i said in my text — i miss you a lot. miss talking to you and hearing your voice…”

“sounds like you’re down bad.”

“so bad.” he quipped back, shuffling closer to you like a magnet. 

you shook your head and turned onto your side to face him completely, “i miss you too.” 

“yeah?” he almost sounded shocked, playfully so but there was a hint of genuine scepticism in his cracking voice.

“yeah. miss a lot of things about you…”

“like what?” he taunted. 

“just shut up and kiss me, you dork.”

lando didn’t need to be told twice as he closed the small space between you, scooping your waist into his arms and holding you tight. your noses bumped before your lips made contact, making your both giggle as he kissed you into the mountain of pillows.

a loud crack of lightning outside your window made you jump, instinctively pulling him even closer than humanely possible as his lips travelled down your neck — the rumbling of thunder murmured in sync with your heart beat. it felt like the first time you’d met all those years ago, so young and stupidly in love. 

“i love being with you during storms like this… makes me feel safe.”

“i’ve got you and i’m not going anywhere.” he reassured sweetly in a whisper.  you sighed in relief, relaxing into his touch while bringing his face up to yours with shaky hands. there was a nervous surge of energy when you looked into his sparkling green eyes, slightly darkened by the dimly lit room— you believed every word he had said that night and sealed it with a kiss, slowly melting into the covers as he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

a/n — very rarely does this happen but the spice would not come to me for this one. i feel like the vibe just felt different and honestly, i don't know how to feel about it hahaha i realised a long time ago that writing angst doesn't come naturally even though i'm a moody bitch - maybe it's because writing is my escapism lol #end of (f1) season sale!! —see what other customers are buying ✨

[asapeveryday]

A LITTLE BREAK?★彡

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Academic Weapon Reader (as per request)

Warnings: smut (fingering)

Summary: You’ve been so focused on your work, and Paige thinks she needs to show you how to take a break.

A/n: thanku to the anon who requested this 💗 hope I did it sum justice

WHEN you felt her arms wrap around you the first thing you wanted to do was melt into her touch. That’s how it usually was with Paige, her words would make you stumble and the warmth of her body was an immediate distraction.

Not at the moment though. When it came to school, almost nothing could break your focus. Studying is the only thing you have full control over in your life, and as a college student going into a competitive field while dating an extremely sought after and socially successful basketball player there was already many things in your life that were beyond trying to control.

Paige usually understood how important your academics were to you. She was a good student too— perhaps not to the same extent, but she related to the value you put into results.

Her hands grip your body as she nuzzles her face into your neck, her crimped blonde hair tickling your face. She smelt like fresh laundry.

Leaning your head into hers, you sigh and force yourself to shrug her off.

“Not right now, Paigey.”

“Don’t shake me off.” She pouts, faking hurt. “You’ve been working for so fuckin’ long, I’m bored.”

You know the past week hasn’t been the best for the two of you. She’d always had a busy schedule but Paige had been managing sports, school and social life since she was little. You just weren’t on that level of time management yet, so Paige had been slightly neglected. “I know, I know. Just let me finish up and we can go get something to eat.” You mumble, not even thinking. You don’t look up from your work, but you can feel Paige’s cold eyes staring at your back.

“We’re not going out,” she says. “do you even know what time it is?”

When you don’t respond she physically spins you in your chair to face her, effectively breaking your concentration and annoying you. “Bro seriously just let me get this shit done. I already said we’d do something after. You know I need to do well on this.” You snap.

“Who’re you calling bro?” Paige sneers, crossing her arms. “Didn’t you hear me? We’re not doing shit after you study, it’s literally eleven already.”

Eleven? You turn to check the time on your phone and are unhappy to see that she’s right. The screen reads 11:05pm, meaning you’ve been working for hours thinking you’d have the evening free, but you lost track of time and now it was well past curfew. You don’t even bother to respond to Paige, who was looking at you now with an unreadable expression.

You just rest your face in your hands for a moment. You’re so, so tired and yet there’s still so much to be done. Plus, you honestly missed Paige’s company. You hadn’t been pressed against her in days.

“I’m sorry.” You finally say into your hands. “I just…I have so much to do.”

Paige pulls your hands away from your face and holds them in her own. You love when she stands over you like this, it’s never failed to send shivers down your spine at how you have to look up at her. She offers a soft smile.

“I know, baby. Don’t be sorry. I’ve been missing you, you know?”

“I know.” You respond, finally taking her in.

Paige had slept in braids the night before and taken them it before coming to see you, her light hair now beachy waves down her shoulders. She wore a black zip up and grey sweats that hung low on her hips, sometimes revealing the band of her boxer shorts.

“Oh, so you’re gonna ignore me all day and then check me out?” She quips, bring you back to reality.

“Shut up.” You laugh, getting up from the desk and wrapping your arms around her. “I guess I’ve just missed you too.”

“Want me to help you study for a bit?” She asks, stepping back and sitting on your bed.

“Sure.” You reply, but what you really want to say is “I don’t deserve you.”

-

“Ask me the fourth one again”

“Aight.” Paige says, getting out one of your flash cards and scrunching her face up as she reads what you’ve written.

“What are the traits of an organism with P-Pateu’s syndrome? The fuck is that?”

“It means they have an extra 13th autosomal chromosome.” You laugh. She just shakes her head. “You’re not even speaking English right now.”

Before you can even answer the question she whips out another card. “Wait, answer this one. Guess what Paige Bueckers thinks you should do right now?”

“You think you’re so funny.” You roll your eyes. “Paige c’mon, just finish the flash cards and then you have me all night.”

“Baby I think it’s time to take a break.” She says, tossing the cards away. Paige crawls towards you before slowly kissing your lips. Her chapstick is sweet and minty, you can’t help but chase her mouth after she pulls away. “Plus I don’t wanna wait anymore. I want you now.”

She’s eyeing you down so intensely, and suddenly you don’t care about biology right now. You want to see what she does when she wants you, it’s been so long you’ve almost forgotten.

“I guess I can take a little break.” You murmur, feeling your stomach tighten when her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

In a moment you’re caged under her arms, laughing as your head hits your soft pillows. Paige bares a smile so bright it warms your heart, her hair tickling your skin as she plants soft kisses to your face.

“Arms up.” She tuts, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and letting out a satisfied noise at the sight of your bra-less torso. Her hands meet your breasts as she kisses you softly and you shiver at the feeling of her calloused palms against your skin. She’s usually rough when handling you, but today she is beautifully gentle.

You gasp when she pinches your nipples, which gives her easy access to slip her tongue in your mouth. Paige kisses languidly, her lips are soft and she smirks against your own every time you break from her.

Paige loves speed, aggression and pressure. Sex with her was always exhilarating and exhausting, by the end of nights with her you two were quick to pass out. You enjoyed this, she brought a different kind of rush into your life that way. This slower pace was new to you.

“What’s going on, P?” You manage to get out in between kisses. Maybe she wasn’t going to fuck you, maybe kissing and touching was all for tonight…though it usually wasn’t.

“Don’t wanna stress you out, baby.” She pulls away from you, lips pink and eyes hooded. You recognize the look on her face, it’s more then desire, it’s determination. “Lemme take your mind off of things for a bit.”

Her fingers graze your stomach as they play with the band of your pyjama shorts and she’s eyeing you with a questioning look. When you nod okay to her she slips them down your legs, leaving you topless with your cotton underwear on.

“You’re so cute.” She bites her lip as she unzips her sweater, leaving her in sweats and a black sports bra, her silver chain shining against her skin. You want to scoff at the comment but it ultimately makes you blush and hide your face, to which she lets out a chuckle.

Her fingers are agonizingly soft against the material of your underwear, rubbing the slowest, most teasing circles you’ve ever felt in your life. Her head is buried in your neck, sucking dark hickeys into your skin. “Paige.” You whine. “C’mon now, just touch me for real.”

“So impatient.” She quips, finally taking your last article of clothing off. “Look at you, all wet for me.”

“I missed you Paigey.” You say quietly, opening your legs for her. You can feel her smile against your neck, and you let out a sigh as her finger meets your clit.

You feel yourself melt into a world of pleasure as her hands please you, Paige knows exactly what to do to get you going, except this time with a softness that you’re starting to love. She’s so passionate as she praises you; licking your skin, kissing your lips and pressing her forehead to yours while subtly upping the pressure on your bud, before ultimately slipping her fingers inside of you.

“I love how focused you are all the time.” She murmurs, her hands slowly pumping in and out of you. “It’s so hard for me to stand back and let you do your thing, I just want to be on you all the time.”

You attempt to squeeze your legs shut but her hand roughly pries you open, though the moment of aggression is gone when when she continues to say “Do you know how many times I thought of you this week? So many times. Fuck, every night I thought of having you like this, spread wide open for me.”

“Oh, Paige, oh my god.” You whine, her fingers are quickening now. The noises from your slick and her loud kisses are so lewd it’s driving you insane. Her breath is warm on your skin as she whispers her heart out to you. Paige’s voice was low and almost raspy, almost enough to make you cum on its own.

“I just want you to take it easy when you’re with me, alright?” She says, meeting your eyes. You try your hardest to hold her gaze but it’s so hard when she’s in you like this, her blue eyes staring through you with intensity. You nod at her, but it’s not enough.

“Say it.” She tilts her head, curling her fingers inside of you. “Say you’ll take breaks baby.”

“I-I’ll take breaks P, I’ll take it easy.” You manage to get out, voice wavering. You’re feeling that familiar pressure in your abdomen now as her fingers passionately pump into you, your back arching and legs twitching.

“You promise?” Paige asks. Her hands are going fast now, the sight of her veiny arms between you, her digits disappearing inside of your pussy, it was driving you to the edge.

“I promise, Paige. Please, please.” You throw your head back with pleasure. She keeps up her pace while kissing you sweetly, taking your moans into her mouth and murmuring “yeah, just like that.” until you cum all over her fingers.

She sombrely pulls her hand out from you and presents it to your lips, and you eagerly suck on her fingers. Her gaze is tantalizing, she can’t look away from you even when you’re finished tasting yourself.

You bring your hands to your face and sigh, basking in the post-nut clarity. It felt so rejuvenating to be laying beneath her on your bed, lights low and warm and body buzzing from climax. You weren’t even tired, you just felt amazingly clear headed.

Paige allows her self to put her body weight on you, laying her head on your chest and wrapping her muscular arms around you. “How was that?” She asks, and her tone almost makes you laugh. She’s confident, but always giddy to please you.

“So good.” You smile. “Different, but good. Exactly what I needed.”

Paige just laughs and squeezes you. The feeling of her heart beating by yours, her eyelashes blinking against your skin. You can’t help but feel like this is all you’ll ever truly need.

“You’re not still planning on studying…right?” Paige grumbles, and you let out a heartily chuckle.

“Fuck no, that’s done for the day. I’m all yours.”

[sadplaguedoctor]

grief

⤷ silco x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been taking silco’s death rather hard and found yourself doing almost anything to remember him, even if that means masturbating in his chair.

tags: solo masturbation, referenced major character death, scent kink, grief, angst, hurt no comfort, you are going slightly mad

It’s been two months. Two whole months since Silco had gone and died and left you here alone to fend for yourself— something you had gotten used to not having to do after so many years of being with him.

His office was quieter than before, and cold. So very cold. You no longer had the option of pushing yourself up next to him despite his grumbles about “distraction” and “important business”. You no longer felt his arms wrapped around your body late at night. The rise and fall of his chest was now forgotten.

Though, you were determined to keep him alive in any way you could. You slept in his bed, wore some old jewelry of his, wrapped yourself up in the clothes he had gifted you time and time again. Even sprayed yourself with his cologne— just a bit, making sure to get it mostly on his clothes that were saved for bedtime.

His pillows still faintly smelled of him. The amount of times you had turned your head to shove your nose into the fabric all while burying your fingers within yourself was lost to you.

Sometimes, you would cry. Cry because your fingers weren’t his and would never be his again. They didn’t reach the areas that he touched with so much grace, nor were they as rough. It was a reminder of the empty husk he had left you to wallow in.

“I still feel your presence,” you spoke quietly, talking to a figment of the past as you dragged your fingertips across Silco’s desk. “I still see you. In the dark, in our bed.”

There was no doubt that your sanity had been slipping ever since the incident. You would hear his voice speaking to you and guiding you throughout your day. Sometimes, you’d see him duck behind alleys or stand silently in the corner of his bedroom. You often found yourself fighting the urge to follow these hallucinations, but then with one simple blink, he disappeared.

“Jinx tells me I’m going crazy, but I see it in her eyes. She feels the same. We all do.”

It broke you to see the distant look in Jinx’s eyes when she thought no one was looking— but it hurt even more to see the rabid, pure unadulterated fury in them. Sure, you both got to see and feel different versions of Silco, but the pain of loosing him was similar. It was sorrow, it was dejection, it was rage.

But, truly, what good did crying do? It wouldn’t bring him back. No matter how many times you screamed into his pillow, begging for one little sign that he was still watching over you. You remained cold.

His chair still felt the same against your body, the softness of the plush leather stuck to your skin the same way it used to. It kept you warm during nights spent staring off into space, reminiscing on old memories you could never experience again.

Though, you were weak. You could only spend so much time inhaling his scent without becoming eager and internally frustrated.

One arm rest dug into your back as your legs draped over the other— head turned so your nose could press against the back of the chair, taking in as much of his lingering scent as you could without having to gasp for air.

Jeans pooled at your ankles and your legs shook, fingers hurriedly pumping in and out of your cunt while you wriggled and writhed on the leather.

“You were always so desperate with me. I must say, I’m quite pleased to see that spark never dulled.”

You could hear him. His voice echoed in your mind like his lips hovered by your ear, taunting you.

“Damn you,” you whispered, closing your mouth quickly after to muffle any sounds of pleasure that dared to escape you. “Damn you for leaving me.”

A jolt shot through your body and your thighs clenched tightly around your wrist, head thrown back as you choked on your own breath. Your movements were feral, unhinged and like he said, desperate. So were the tears that cascaded down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your lips which began to part and make way for broken sobs and groans.

When you came, you kept your fingers tucked inside you— not ready to get rid of that stretch, that sensation of being full and his. Silco’s name bubbled up in your throat and died on your tongue, the taste sour and grey.

“Good girl,” he whispered once more, a light pressure pushing against your temple. You clung to that. Clung to the phantom kiss that would fuel your desires and delusions for days to come.

He was gone, you knew that. But the figure that vanished the moment you opened your eyes, promised otherwise.

Even in death, he haunted you.

i wrote this the very moment i woke up this morning and posted it an hour after. this wasn’t the first and will not be the last time i wake up to the thought of silco.