#shes thinking how horrible it is he stained her clothes

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples, pt. 3

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

part one , part two , part four , part five , part six , part seven , part eight , part nine , part ten

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you go out with caleb but things turn south.

word count: 8.1k words

warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, sad at the end, a good mix of everything! a hint of foreplay! mentions of death! not proofread!

author's note: hi all! this is a bit on the longer side so i apologize! part four is most definitely in the works, though! i hope you enjoy the chapter! i hope i got everyone who asked to be tagged! please yell at me if i forgot you!

taglist <3 : @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexizia , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @jexizia

Seven o’clock is approaching fast and you have yet to find anything to wear. Your closet has been emptied, clothes scattered across the vinyl flooring of your apartment. Dresses, pants, and blouses fill in the blank spaces of the floor. You tip toe around the messily laid out outfits, sending pictures to your closest friend for her opinion,

It doesn’t really surprise you when she video calls you, laughing at how seriously you’re taking this dinner.

“Are you trying to impress him?” Your friend snorts. You prop your phone against a book on the counter. “I thought you didn’t like him?”

“I don’t,” your response is immediate and snappy, “I would like to have a nice dinner, though.”

“How do you know you’re actually going out to dinner? What if he’s there to kill you, you know, like some serial killer type shit.”

“He is our beloved Colonel, after all. I can’t pass up the opportunity he’s handing to me.”

“An opportunity to what? Find another military sugar daddy that wants you on his arm? Bitch, please,” Your friend rolls her eyes and shakes her head when you hold a red dress to your body. “I don’t think you should go. My expertise tells me that this is a bad idea.”

“Your expertise?” You throw your head back and laugh. “Your expertise from what? All of the true crime documentaries you’ve watched?”

“Yes, actually,” she proudly states, a ‘fuck you’ smile spreading across her face.

“I’m going,” a fake smile spreads across your face when you glance at yourself in the mirror. “It’s a free meal. I’m not going to pass it up!”

“You’re making a major mistake! You should go in sweatpants. Put in no effort whatsoever. He’s the guy you’ve been trying to forget, right?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, glancing at her face on the phone screen, “he’s kind of hard to forget, though. He’s—”

“A dreamboat? Got you a single butterfly toy when you were kids? Has the prettiest eyes? This is going to end up horribly and you know it. I’m not going to stop you…just don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart.” Your friend hangs up after that.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, eyes focused on the dress that you hold up in front of yourself. It slips out of your sight and your eyes drop down to the baggy sweatpants you have on.

They haven’t been washed in a couple days and there’s a stain from the takeout you ordered the other day when your favorite show had its season premiere.

Sweatpants, you roll your eyes with a chuckle, he’d hate that.

A slow smile spreads across your face. Maybe you will be in sweatpants and the shirt you sleep in when he shows up. You never agreed to the dinner, after all. What could Caleb possibly be expecting from you?

It’s not like this dinner is going to solve all of your problems. It’s not going to wash away the sins he’s committed against you nor will it bring you much solace even if things go well.

A black dress catches your attention from the corner of your eye. The hanger finds itself between your fingers. you slowly lift it into the air, silently examining it, before holding the dress against your body. Your steps are slow and meticulous. They’re almost hesitant to see what it looks like on you.

Your hands trail across the soft fabric of the dress. It has a box neckline, cutting low on your chest, with long sleeves, and a skirt that stops just halfway down your thigh. You squint at the dress, familiarity tingling in the back of your mind.

It couldn’t be…no…right?

The dress falls to the floor. It pools at your feet, your body shuddering. You grasp the spot over your heart, feeling the beats speed up. A faint ringing buzzes in your ears. You didn’t expect to see the black garment in your closet.

Did your mother pack it without you knowing? She was horrendously overbearing while you packed your room up. The move from Linkon to Skyhaven was brutal on her. She had almost convinced your father to follow you so she can have the peace of mind knowing that you know somebody there. Thankfully, he talked her down, but it didn’t make her maternal instincts go away.

Out of all the things she helped pack for you: did she have to pack that dress?

Grumbling obscenities under your breath, you cleaned your apartment, wasting time.

You simply weren’t going to go. Your friend was right, all this is going to do is bring back bad memories and ruin your night. With the floors now cleared and free from your disastrous attempt at fashion, you flop onto the couch, kicking your feet up onto the coffee table. The television switches on, the laughs from Skyhaven’s news anchors filling the silence of your apartment. You roll your eyes and click to the next channel. A reality show pops up with older white woman screaming at each other.

It’s trash but it works.

You grab your phone and the screen lights up. Just as fate has it, a notification pings, the banner floating at the top of the screen. You don’t recognize the number and shrug it off, swiping it away. You move to a familiar app and begin to play the game.

It only feels like a few minutes, when in actuality it’s been an hour, when there’s a knock at the door. The sound floats in the air before it comes again, much more demanding this time. You turn around, looking over the edge of the couch you have sunken into, and raise an eyebrow.

An uncomfortable silence fills the air. The knocks don’t continue nor can you hear anyone, like your landlord, calling your name. There are no alarms and no sound of chaos from the hallway.

Huh. Weird.

 You turn back to your game, groaning when your tiny character falls off the platform and into the lasers below. You chuck your phone into the other side of the couch, head rolling back and over the arm rest. You stare at the door, laughing to yourself.

That would be so fucking crazy if that were Caleb at the door. How would he even know where to find you? You definitely didn’t tell him where you live nor did you confirm this dinner he invited you on.

Life is weird though. Dead men come back to life and they suddenly pay attention to you. What’s even crazier is that the dead man wants to see you tonight.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Your body jumps from the couch, the sudden sound scaring you back to life. You land on your feet, sharp pain shooting through your ankles. You gasp and collapse back onto the couch, loudly whining.

You hear your name through the door followed by continuous knocking. Quickly making your way to the door, you swing up open and quickly dodge a balled fist that misses the door.

“Woah!” Caleb’s voice causes you to groan. “I almost got you there! Sorry about that!”

Your eyes narrow at him and that damn charming smile of his. You lean against the doorframe, pulling the door to your side to block the view of your messy apartment. Caleb’s a head taller than you, though, so your efforts are in vain as he cranes his chin up, looking inside.

“How did you find my apartment? How the fuck do you know where I live?” You ask, completely baffled by his presence.

“I may or may not have abused my power when you didn’t answer my texts,” he says it so casually that even you think that what he did was okay. You blink for a couple seconds, comprehending what he just said, when your eyes get caught on his outfit.

He wears black dress pants matched with a white dress shirt. He sports a black jacket over his arms and shoulders with no tie hanging around his neck. unconsciously, your eyes drift to the collar of his shirt. You expect to see a certain silver necklace around his neck, one that you’ve seen in countless social media photos.

It isn’t around his neck.

Hope strikes your heart, causing it to skip a beat. Your cheeks heat up.

You hate how easy it is for you to like him again. Is the bar that low that him opting not to wear a necklace has you wanting to go to dinner with him?

Fortify your mental walls, dammit! Do not give in to the temptation that is Caleb!

“I love the sweatpants look. Very classy. But you should probably change, our reservation is in thirty minutes,” his purple eyes scan the small sliver of your apartment.

It’s actually a lot different than from what he initially imagined. The couch is in the middle of the room with the television pushed up against the wall. Behind the couch is a small table with two chairs. He assumes that the kitchen is to the right of it because your bedroom is to the left. The walls are somewhat bare. Only a few pictures and decor hang from them.

At least your place feels alive and lived in compared to his.

You raise an eyebrow. He mimics you with a chuckle. You purse your lips and Caleb has to mentally tell himself to not close the distance and kiss you.

“A reservation?” He nods in response to your question. “I can’t. My heater broke I’m…waiting for maintenance to come by and fix it.”

“I can fix it,” his reply is immediate.

“No, it’s fine, really—”

“It’ll take me five minutes! You can get dressed while I fix it,” he speaks over you so casually as if this were everyday banter between you two.

It’s like that with his pipsqueak, but never you.

Caleb pushes some of his weight onto the door but you push back. He stops and looks down at down, brows furrowed.

Why won’t you let me help you? He thinks to himself.

Caleb rests a hand on the door, palm flat and fingers stretched out. He leans down and inspects your face.

You wear a large frown which is matched with a deadly glare, one that he isn’t particularly fond of since your years together in high school. Your eyes keep moving away from his, looking everywhere but at him, and he frowns.

“You’re lying to me,” Caleb states. His posture straightens, arms crossed over his chest. You match his posture, throwing him a dirty look.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes. Yes you are,” he leans down to your eye level. You get a closer look at his eyes, noticing that the gold you saw before is actually more of a bronze. Perhaps he’s never been a golden boy this whole time. Your hardened expression falters. “Go get changed. I’ll wait inside for you.”

Caleb takes a step towards you, the door creaking open. Your hand smacks against his chest, right on top of his heart. His heart thumps inside his chest. Your fingers involuntary curl into his chest, pushing him back. Your eyes remain trained on the top button of his shirt.

“No,” you say, finally looking up into his big eyes. “Stay…right here.” You swipe your foot in a line in front of your apartment door. He watches then looks back up at you. “Don’t cross this line. I’ll be right back.”

You slam the door in his face and quickly lock it. Caleb stands out in the hallway. He blinks at the door, unsure of what just happened, and turns around to face the hallway.

Progress. That’s what this is. It’s progress. Progress towards you two reigniting the spark of friendship. The Colonel hopes it turns into something more. He needs it to be more than slammed doors and tense moments in interrogation rooms and apartment hallways.

Caleb watches as people pass by in the hallway. He can’t hear you inside, most likely deep inside your bedroom getting changed.

Getting ready for him.

The thought of you getting all dolled up for him gets Caleb excited. His smile grows with every passing second. A few men walk by and Caleb makes for sure to glare at them, arms crossed, chest puffed out, asserting dominance over them.

He sighed when the last one disappeared into the elevator. The faint click of the door’s lock catches his attention and he takes a single step back, watching as you slowly open the door.

His heart pounds in his chest, ears and cheeks growing warm from the sight of you.

You look absolutely stunning in the black dress you wear. He likes how the sleeves cover your arms yet it leaves your upper chest exposed. It’s like you’re teasing him, luring him in for more. Your hair is pulled back and out of your face. Your face isn’t beaten, instead opting for a more natural and casual look, and you shrug your long purse strap over your shoulder. You’re much taller, too, and his eyes fall onto a simple pair of heels. Looking back up, Caleb smiles.

You are the image of perfection.

His eyes barely skim over the top of your head now. Maybe his neck won’t hurt as much looking down at you.

“You look…amazing.” Caleb can barely get his compliment out, fumbling over his words and growing feelings towards you. His heart swells at your small smile and nod. You turn, keys jingling in your hand. You take a second to breathe. The warmth in your cheeks irritates you.

You hate how your body constantly betrays you when he’s around. It’s a curse, not a blessing.

“Ready?” His voice quips once you turn around from locking your apartment door. You hesitantly nod, forcing a smile onto your face, but it falls once he extends his hand to you.

You stare at his fingers, which have a few scars wrapped around his skin, before looking back up at him. Caleb’s smile is so hopeful. The corners of his eyes slightly crinkle. You sigh, stepping around him, his fingers brushing against your arm.

Caleb watches as you walk down the hallway, your jacket draped over your arm, purse bouncing against your side. He releases a disappointed sigh, fingers curling back into his palm. He forces his feet to chase after you, watching as you press the elevator button.

The Colonel attaches himself to your side, making sure to keep a respectable yet close distance. It’s silent. The faint dings from the elevator grow louder. The doors slide open and you step inside, Caleb following suit.

The metal box slowly lowers. Caleb’s eyes remain on you, utterly captivated by the sight. You look forward, opting for the buffed metal door.

Caleb would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of the door.

“Where are you taking us?” You break the awkward silence of the elevator. You glance at him and your eyes meet. You slowly bat your eyelashes at him, sighing.

Please prove me wrong, you internally plead, inner voice desperate, please prove that you aren’t the same boy I knew in high school.

Before he can respond, the elevator slide open. An obnoxiously large group stands on the other side. They wear bright pink cowboy hats and sashes, their eyes half-lidded.

Oh shit. It’s a bachelorette party. That’ll be fun to listen to tonight.

They wave hi, which you and Caleb return. As they slowly pile into the elevator, their voices grow loud, causing your ears to ring.

Caleb slides in front of you, gently pushing you against the back wall. His forearm rests against your head, the man trapping you in your spot. You look around him.

The elevator is completely packed. The inhabitants push together, morphing into one big blob. Your eyes dart to Caleb’s torso, noticing that there’s a few inches of space between you.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You look up, his face hovering in front of yours.

Your lips barely graze over each other. He’s slightly hunched over, face slightly grimacing from the bachelorette party bumping into him, stepping on his feet.

You hold back a laugh, covering your mouth. Caleb turns his attention back to you, a half-amused grin tugging the corner of his lips up.

“You’re laughing? At a time like this?” Caleb whispers into your ear, leaning in. The strands of his hair tickle your forehead. He leans in closer, lips grazing against your ear. “C’mon now…cut me some slack. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

His breath is hot on your ear. Shivers run down your spine, the tingles making themselves at home in your stomach. Frozen in place, your eyes move to his shoulder.

A small speck catches your eye. Inside the small elevator, you push your arm against the pressure from the other people. Caleb’s gaze follows your hand. You breathe in sync with him, both watching as you pluck a single eyelash from his cheek, right below his eye.

Your fingertips graze against his skin, leaving electric shocks in their wake, and scoop the small eyelash from his skin. You inspect the eyelash with close eyes. Your gaze flits to his, his purple eyes staring not at your eyes but your lips.

“Make a wish,” your whisper fills the tension between your bodies. His bottom lip quivers. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, feeling them heat up.

Caleb tilts his head down. He slowly slows at the eyelash on your finger, the hair disappearing, your eyes meeting once again.

My wish is you.

His breath is cool against your skin. It brings you no relief. Instead, your body inches closer to him, burning under his gaze of desire.

The two of you don’t even realize that the elevator is now empty. There is no bachelorette party cornering you. There is no reason for you two to be so close.

You hate to admit it but you don’t want to move. Caleb doesn’t either. He can’t get enough of your perfume, the way your touch was so light and careful against his face, almost as if you were scared to get even closer to him.

Do you feel it?

Do you feel the center of gravity that is pulling us together?

You clear your throat and dip under his arm. The further you get from him, the easier it is to breathe. You don’t even look at him from over your shoulder, scurrying out of the small enclosure.

Caleb hangs behind. His fingers curl against the elevator wall, eyes closed. He grimaces, harshly biting down on his lower lip. Your perfume lingers in the air. The warmth of your affection tickling his skin. He lets out a haggard breath, his back slowly straightening. He fixes his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt, and exits the elevator, finding you outside.

You stand alone and off to the side, just hidden enough for people not to notice you but visible enough for Caleb to immediately find you. Just as the purse strap slips off your shoulder, Caleb collects it in his hand. He slips the jacket from your arms as well and eases your hand through the first sleeve, helping aim your next arm through the second.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, your breath visible in the cold night air. He nods, clearing his throat. “I think you were interrupted before.”

“Was I?” Caleb’s eyes flutter, looking down at you. You chuckle and raise an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, I was, wasn’t I?” You nod. “A colleague recommended the restaurant to me. I thought you may like it.”

“Oh?” His intention takes you by surprise.

He actually…thought of you? Wow. You didn’t know he could do that.

You don’t give it much thought, though. It’s probably due to her not being here.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

The outside of the restaurant takes you by surprise. The outside is made up of dark metal with grooves in it that imitates wood, which is a stark contrast to the rest of the Skyhaven’s white metallic look. A long window surrounds the perimeter. It’s a thin line and doesn’t take up much of the wall space. A faint, golden glow seeps into the glass.

Caleb’s long strides keep with your pace. He walks close to you, your purse acting as a boundary between your hips. You glance inside the restaurant’s window, seeing couples and semi-large parties inside the main dining room.

The Colonel opens up the business’ door, smiling down at you as you step inside, quietly thanking him.

The atmosphere is warm, the chilled air tingling away from your skin. You feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, shrugging your jacket off of your body. You watch him with an intense gaze.

His shoulders are so broad. You swear you can watch as his muscles tense then relax under the fabric as she hands over your jackets to an employee. Caleb turns to you, nodding as the hostess walks away. You swallow whatever spit you have in your mouth. You tell your feet to move, goosebumps forming across your skin when you feel his touch on the low of your back.

Caleb sticks close behind you, fingers grazing up and down your body. His eyes stare at the exposed skin of your neck, eyes drifting up to the side of your face. He smirks, watching as your lips part with a gasp, his fingers inching their way around your side. He’s unable to get a full grip of your side, though, when the hostess places menus on the table before you.

You step to your chair but Caleb is too quick for you, dragging it out. You roll your eyes at him and sit, the man pushing the chair in to meet your body. He sits at the spot in front of you, the table circular and on the smaller side, with a lit candle in the center of the table.

Taking a glance around the restaurant, you notice that you and Caleb are more towards the back. It’s like you’re hidden away so nobody can see you. Couples at other tables lean in, smiles adorned on their faces over the candle light, the dim lighting of the restaurant casting shadows over their faces.

The scenery and atmosphere is…strangely romantic.

“You look great in that dress,” Caleb’s voice brings your eyes back onto his. They drop to his arms, where his white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. Your breath gets caught in your throat. You tear your gaze away and settle back onto his eyes.

“Thanks. I haven’t worn it for a year,” you respond with a shrug.

“Yeah?” He leans forward, his smile growing, “when was the last time you wore it?”

“Your funeral.”

Oh. Well. You know…I don’t know how to respond to that, Caleb thinks to himself. He purses his lips, brows knitted together, eyes narrowed from unease.

You stare at him with your arms crossed over your chest. You raise an eyebrow at his sour reaction. He was the one who died and magically came back to life with no explanation.

He sits up in his chair, resting his hands in his lap as his piercing violet eyes tear into yours. You shift in your seat, crossing one leg over the other as he comes up with the proper words to respond.

A waiter approaches the table, their face just barely illuminated from the light. He wears all black clothing and his smile is a little too friendly, his eyes dragging across your bare chest. You suck in a breath and glance at Caleb, who glares at the waiter.

“Good evening. May I start you two off with a bottle of wine or an appetizer?” The waiter asks, looking at you, not even a second to stare at Caleb. You simper at his gaze, only feeling slightly uncomfortable, as you take the wine list from his hands.

“He’s paying, so we’ll make it an expensive bottle,” you muse with a quiet chuckle. Caleb’s eyes break from the waiter and land on you. Goosebumps litter your skin as you pretend not to notice the intensity radiating from his body. “We’ll do this one,” you point out a name on the list to the waiter.

He dips down and his putrid cologne tinges your nostrils. You lean away, wincing from how his scent burns the inside of your nose. His lips curl into a toothy grin.

“Great choice. I’ll have it out for you in a few moments.” He walks away and you watch him. You relax into your seat when he vanishes from your eye line, turning back to Caleb. 

“Could you get even closer to him?” Caleb’s raspy voice cuts through the low lighting. You raise an eyebrow, confused by his sudden possessiveness towards you.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Caleb,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, dress grazing against the table, “you’ve only been in my life for twenty four hours. You don’t get to have a say on who gets close to me.”

“Don’t I?” He matches your lean, his purple eyes glowing from the candlelight. “I was in your life for a good amount—”

“Emphasis on was,” you interrupt him. He swipes his tongue over his teeth, shaking his head ever so slightly at you.

You know you’re teetering on a very, very line and fragile line with Caleb. A small amount of payback won’t kill the man. He did lead you on for that good amount of time he was in your life for so if it’s any consolation for you, it’s deserved.

“Let’s have a nice dinner,” you sigh. His darkened expression softens, his eyebrows relaxing. Catching a glimpse of his fists, you see them relax as well, his knuckles no longer white. “However, I do think you owe me an explanation about your so-called ‘death.’” You pause, looking to the side, before rushing to get the words out, “and I don’t want to talk about her either. I…I don’t particularly have fond memories of the three of us since things ended badly. I hope you can understand that.”

Caleb’s eyes slightly widen. A part of him knew that this was coming. He had been distracted all day, sitting at his desk, ignoring all of his duties as Colonel. He went through every memory that he could remember, ones that weren’t influenced by the chip in his body, and came to realization that towards the end, you weren’t there.

In the memories that you were in, you were in the background while she took center stage. It made Caleb feel like a fool, truly. He agonized over it. Just to know that he could have caused you so much pain and emotional turmoil ripped his heart apart. He plans on repaying and making up for it until his final breath.

Even in death, Caleb will find ways to make you feel important, that you matter.

“I promise,” he breathes out, eyes never leaving yours, “to not bring her up. Consider her banished from our relationship.”

You lean into the back of the chair, putting your full weight into it. You stare at him, wondering if what he said can be trusted. You sigh and nod, forcing a small smile onto your face. He beams at you and nods, sighing from relief.

The side of your heel glides against his leg. He sucks in a breath and you bat your eyelashes at him. You take your bottom lip between your two teeth, knowing that it will drive him absolutely crazy. The Colonel shifts in his seat, his eyes taking all the liberties he wants.

His demeanor has shifted so many times within the last minute. He went from happy, to sorrowful, then his anger took over, and now the look on his face tells you that he’s feeling some form of lust. Adrenaline runs through your veins because you simply don’t know what Caleb you’re going to get next.

He licks his lips when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You turn your attention to the dining room, looking upon the other couples and groups that mingle inside. A soft chuckle shakes your body.

The waiter comes back with a bottle of white wine and two glasses in hand. He sets the glasses in front of the two of you, but neither dare to break their gaze.

Caleb’s eyebrow slightly perks up and you tilt your head to the side, a sly smirk forming on your face.

The wine is poured, the pale yellow alcohol sitting pretty inside the glass. You make the first move. The glass is cool in your hand and you swirl the wine around, bringing the glass to your glossy lips.

The first sip of the Pinot Blanc has an exceptional fresh taste to it, complimenting the dryness to the wine. The aroma is fruity with hints of apple, Caleb’s favorite, and a side taste of citrus.

You glance at the waiter, who hovers at the small table. Caleb clears his throat, glaring at the man. The waiter doesn’t pay attention to Caleb, his eyes staying on you.

“The wine is delicious, thank you,” you set the glass down, fingers resting on the base of the glass. He nods but stays in his spot. Caleb’s fists ball on top of the white cloth. He opens his mouth to speak but you’re quick to tap his knee with the tip of your high heel. You roll your eyes and take a deep breath, leaning towards the waiter. “As you can see, I’m here with him and not you. So, if you could please give us some privacy, that would be nice.”

Caleb watches you in awe. Your dominance is refreshing and is something he hasn’t experienced with her in a long time. She typically gave up after five minutes but you? You are fiery. You know what you want and you also know how to tell people to fuck off in ways he never knew how.

Has he finally met his match? Can you be the one to meet his fiery passion and loyalty?

“You can leave this here,” you reach out to the waiter, tapping the label on the wine bottle.

The waiter obeys, scrambling away. Caleb watches it as if he’s at a magic show, completely enthralled with the display you’re putting on for him.

This is a completely different side of you, one that he’s never seen before but desperately wants to get to know. If Caleb didn’t know any better, he would think that you also want to indulge in the sweetness of your blossoming love.

“Try the wine,” you grab your glass, emptying the contents into your mouth before refilling it. Caleb watches with an amused smile, tasting the wine as you said to do, and pauses. It’s…it’s delectable. It hits all of the flavor notes he’s been dying to taste in a good wine.

And you were the one who managed to find it.

“Hey,” he leans forward, capturing your attention. “Can we…start over? You know…a fresh start for us?”

Your eyes read humor and your smile is divine. You think about his proposal for a moment, tearing your gaze away, opting to look at the menu.

You know that he’s eagerly waiting for a response. Knowing Caleb, he’s impatient to know the result of your calculations. He watches you, focused on the way your foot taps against his shin and how your eyes scan the menu as if there’s anything remotely interesting on there.

Caleb is right there and he knows that he is way more interesting than the variety of food options the restaurant has to offer.

“What do you say?” He pesters. Your eyes shoot to his. Chills run down his spine.

“New life, new you, right?” You muse. Caleb can’t help but laugh, turning his head away from you.

Have you always been this funny? Your humor knows no bounds, truly. While some people would have groaned at your words, Caleb couldn’t help but see the lightheartedness behind them.

He knows that his death must have taken a large, emotional toll on you. It’s never easy losing someone you were once close to. Perhaps your humor is your way of dealing with uncomfortable and awkward situations. He can’t fault you for it. He too has been known to make light of many uncomfortable scenarios, such as failing his psych evaluation at the DAA. 

“Thank you,” he releases a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding in. You shake your head, his interest piqued.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” you bring the glass to your lips, licking them, “consider this dinner as your trial run.”

“Noted,” Caleb responds, eyes trained on your lips, wondering when he’s get a chance to taste the flavor of your lip gloss.

The dinner runs smooth, smoother than you or him could have ever anticipated. Your glasses never went empty and after a bottle or two, you could feel your tipsy giggles taking over your body as Caleb watched you with the biggest smile on his face.

Whenever you covered your face from embarrassment, he always made sure to peel them off so he can look upon your gorgeous face. He loves the way your cheeks turn a light pink color, an effect the alcohol has on you, and how your entire demeanor changes. You become light, airy.

Caleb basks in your delightful chuckles and you can’t help but feel closer to him every time he told you one of his stories from inside the Deepspace Tunnel.

The best part of it is that whenever you shared stories from your translator job, he didn’t make you feel insignificant or insufficient compared to him. Sure, you weren’t in a direct line of danger like he is. You don’t fight Wanderers nor do you patrol the Deepspace Tunnel like it’s nothing.

Your average Tuesday consists of translating, and sometimes even decrypting, secret messages and speeches that the Farspace Fleet intercept. To you, it’s a boring old desk job. To Caleb, you are one of the most integral parts of his job. Without you, his job would be much more difficult and he would be in shambles.

He always knew you were smart but your skills as a translator and linguist are truly impressive. He may be able to able to fly some of the most difficult planes and spaceships, but he’ll never be able to fully understand how to comprehend a different language.

It feels like there were no walls between you two. No angst for you to cling to and a time for Caleb to finally, and quite regrettably, get to know who you are after all these years.

To him, you’ve changed so much. You’ve broken free from your shell, one that him and her put you in, and have grown into a woman who is utterly captivating, someone who can control the room with a simple look and a voice that he never wants to stop listening to.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you breathe between quiet chuckles. You lean forward, a genuine smile on your face. “You’re telling me that you and your squad were scared of a creaking noise?”

“Yes,” Caleb leans in, slowly reaching out for your hand. His large hand lays on top of your tiny one and he is surprised that you don’t immediately pull away from him. The tips of his fingers trace the top of your hand, leaving random swirls and letters into your soft skin. His sight lowered to your hands.

It feels domestic to him, something that he never thought or imagined he would have with you. But here you are, allowing it to happen as you breathlessly laugh at his moment of stupidity while on patrol.

He loves it. He loves—

“Caleb?! Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!”

His fingers stop, eyes shooting up to you. Your posture shifts. Your back is as straight as a board, eyes dissociated from the world.

You have become an entirely different person when her voice shrilled form behind you.

You can’t bring yourself to turn and look at her. You listen for her footsteps, hearing them approach before stopping behind you.

“You forgot your necklace at home! I was worried that something happened to you. Who are you with?” She circles the table settling the space to the side of the table. Your hand retracts from his and Caleb can’t help but stare at the tears that brim in your eyes. You look to the spot around his neck, one where the necklace that dangles from her hand should be hanging. 

“I left a note for you—” Caleb begins.

“Is that who I think it is?” She says in a hushed tone to him, staring you with a look that says back off. 

Your eyes stagger to meet his. His lips part, staring at you like he’s just been caught red handed.

Of course. It was so easy to see what this is.

You tilt your chin up, finally looking up at her. She’s all dolled up, makeup absolutely flawless, elevating her natural beauty. She wears a simple blue bow in her dark hair, which travels just below her shoulders. Her outfit is pretty too, nothing that you can pull off anyways, and she radiates I’m better than you energy.

Your stomach turns on itself. You stare at the wine glasses, ears ringing, wondering why the fuck you had to drink so much. It’s because you felt comfortable with him, yes, but you should have known something like this would happen.

You’re nine years old. She feels left out so you give her a present to open. You hate sharing your birthday.

You’re twelve and sitting alone while they get ice cream together. You’re filled with disappointment when they forgot to get you something.

You’re fifteen years old again. The sting of rejection and embarrassment cuts into your skin at the sight of her when he says he can’t go to the dance.

You’re sixteen years old and watching as they leave your game, hand in hand, not even bothering to say goodbye.

You feel your inner child die. Caleb the Knight has finally slain the monstrous and rotten dragon that has done nothing but ask for love.

“How have you been? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” She beams at you.

“I’ve been fine,” you fake a smile but are unable to keep a cheery charade as your smile immediately falters, the corner of your lip twitching. Your nostrils tingle. Your throat throbs from holding back tears.

“You should have waited for me back at the apartment,” Caleb’s face never turns away from yours. A quiet gasp falls from your lips.

At the apartment? Are you sleeping with her? Are you two dating? Have I been made a fool again?

Questions flood into your mind. You’re unable to stop them, not that you want to anyways, as the realization of what’s happening weighs down on your shoulders.

This is the unmistakable feeling of dread.

You stare at him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, as your hands grip onto the skirt of your dress for dear life. Your nails dig into the palms of your hand through the fabric, stinging your skin.

“I’ve been waiting! I didn’t know you were meeting up with someone,” she turns to you and looks at the plate in front of you. “Is that salmon? I love salmon!”

Suddenly, you hate salmon.

Thinking rashly and acting off of pure instinct, you stand from your chair. The table clatters, silverware clanging into each other, when the top of your thighs hit the table.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, glass of wine tipping over, splashing onto her. It shatters on impact when it falls to the ground. Embarrassment crashes through your body like a tsunami, ears turning a bright red color from the heat you feel in your head.

“Are you okay?” Caleb jumps to your side, grabbing your arm with kindness and sincerity. You rip your lib away from him, shaking your head.

“I’m fine,” your voice shakes. You look at her, who watches with a dropped jaw. “It was…so nice seeing you again.” You push the painful words out, your throat tightening around itself. Nausea sweeps your body and you grab your purse from the back of your chair, throwing the skinny strap over your shoulder. Without thinking, you turn away from the duo, who are so clearly made for each other, and rush through the restaurant.

You accidentally bump into a hostess who leads a couple to their table. You gasp and drop to the floor, helping her up, choking out apologies to her. You hear Caleb call your name from behind, trying to keep up with you, but refuse to turn around.

You simply can’t! You can’t see the look on his face, the one every man has when he realizes that he was caught being a two timing scumbag. 

This is just like high school. This is just like the failed homecoming dance when you cried yourself to sleep. This is just like the time Caleb ditched your game because she wanted to go home and watch a movie instead.

Hot tears streak down your face. You wipe your eyes, the fabric around your hands soon becoming soaked from the salty tears. You rush to the door, everyone’s eyes on you. The employee in the coat closet stares at you with bewildered eyes. You ignore him, leaving your jacket behind, as you burst into the ice cold night air.

There’s no rain but you really hoped there would be. You’d be able to escape into the night, going unnoticed as you ran to your apartment. It’s be cinematic, yes, but in all the worst ways possible. It would have been your punishment for being so fucking stupid.

How could you have thought that this would have gone well? Did you really think that Caleb, out of all people, could actually fucking care about you? He’s a man! He could care less about your feelings! As long as he ends the night in bed next to her, he’d be fine.

It wouldn’t matter if you cried yourself to sleep that night. It wouldn’t matter if you deleted and blocked his number. It wouldn’t matter if you ended up getting hit by a car, falling into a deep coma that you’d never wake from.

The only thing that matters is that Caleb is in love with her. Not you.

Your vision is blurred. Your mascara streaks down your cheeks. The street is busy, filled with cars from the night traffic. They whizz by at top notch speeds, your dress skirt getting caught in the air. You hold your hand out, trying to hail a taxi.

“Taxi!” You yell in a pained cry. Your legs wobble. Your arms ache. Your body feels as if it’s shutting down on itself from the grief you’ve just gone through.

Caleb breaks through the restaurant door. He scans the area, chest rapidly rising and falling, and his eyes land on you, who sways back and forth right next to the curb. His heart sinks into his stomach and he leaps towards you, hand outstretched.

You feel your body tense, going still. A tear stops halfway down your cheek. Your eyes dart around, looking for someone to help you. Your name shoots from Caleb’s mouth and you let out a cry, closing your eyes.

“Leave me alone!” You sob. His evol releases you but you’re immediately pulled into his chest. His arms trap you against him, body trembling from sadness and anger, his palms flattening against your hips. “Let me go, Caleb.”

“No. Let’s talk about this,” his chin rests on your shoulder, hunched over. He presses his nose into the side of your neck, his breath only making your body hotter than it needs to be. “Let me explain, please!”

“No! You don’t — Caleb!” You throw your shoulders backward. He stumbles back but takes you with him. His arms remain frigid. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Caleb, I swear on my life that if you don’t let me go, you’ll never see me again.” Your words push through gritted teeth. Caleb stares at you, knowing that’s not true, that wherever you go, he’ll follow like a lost dog. He humors the sentiment, though, and slowly relaxes his grip.

You turn around and shove him away from you. Red eyes, ruined makeup, and a heart that has officially rotted, you stare at him. He tries to come close to you but you shove him away, using every bit of strength you can muster. He takes a step back, a sigh escaping his lips.

“I swear, it’s not what it—”

“What it what? Looks like?!” You yell at him.

People turn their heads and watch. They whisper amongst themselves, pointing and bringing their cameras out to record incase the encounter goes south. Cars honk and sirens blare in the distance.

“Please,” his voice cracks, a hand extending towards you, “this is all one big misunderstanding!”

“What could be misunderstood, Caleb? The fact that she came looking for you? Or the fact you brought me to a place that men take their mistresses to?” You turn away but he uses his evol to turn you back around. You let out a frustrated yell. He holds his hands up, shaking his head.

“Hey, hey, let’s try to calm down—”

“Calm down?!” Your screech interrupts him. You point to the restaurant behind you two. “Caleb! You made me your mistress! She literally showed up looking for you! She brought that stupid fucking necklace and asked why you weren’t home!”

“Please—”

“Shut up! Shut up!” You turn around, holding your face in your hands. Your breaths are deep, heavy, as your lungs burn from the inside, the lack of oxygen causing your body to ache. You hunch over, hand over your chest, fingers digging into your chest.

Maybe it’s the wine clouding your judgement, maybe it’s the walls you built from the constant years of betrayal and lackluster friendships, but you just want to disappear.

Anywhere but here would be better. Hell, even a date with George would have been better than this.

Caleb is quick to circle you. He drops to his knee in front of you, trying to get a look at your face, to try and have a conversation. He brushes hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“I’m so stupid,” your words are just above a whisper. Caleb shakes his head, fighting back tears of his own.

“No. No you aren’t. Don’t say that,” the words tumble from his mouth.

“Yes, I am. I thought I could trust you. I thought that things changed—”

“They did change! She’s just here on a mission and needed a place to stay, that’s all—”

“I don’t care. I don’t care,” you shake your head, lifting your head up. You take a deep breath.

You look at the chaotic street. Cars drive by and honk at each other. They don’t stop for anyone. All of the anger and sadness you once felt slips from your body. Your mind and body go numb.

“I don’t want to see you again.”

Your words shake Caleb to his core. He stands, looking down at you.

“No! No, please don’t do this to me—”

“I can’t trust you. You’ve made me look like an idiot.”

“Let me make it up top you!”

“I want nothing to do with you. Or her. I deserve better than this. Than you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“You haven’t changed. She’s always going to come between us.”

“That’s not true! I have changed!”

“You’ve broken my heart, Caleb.”

Caleb grabs hold of your shoulders. He cranes his head down so he’s at eye level with you. You stare into nothing, unable to stop the tears that roll down your cheeks. He stares into your eyes, his devotion and his everything.

That’s you. But you can’t see it.

“Caleb?” Her voice carries to the two of you. “Where are you? Let’s go home!”

You can’t help but laugh. Hysteria takes over your body. You finally come out from your dissociation, looking into Caleb’s violent and bronze eyes.

“You better hurry up or she’ll leave you too.” You shrug his hands off of your shoulders, stepping around him. You whistle and a taxi immediately pulls to the curb. You get in, the last part of your beating heart turning into outright decay, your core nothing but rotten scraps of the girl you’ve left behind.

[snowsinterlude]

🐇 - rich, stupid, dumb girl and her nerd boyfriend.

(coriolanus snow x bimbo reader)

summary: you loved your boyfriend just too much not to let him edge you in public

c.w: in public, reader is a bimbo, edging, fingering (f. recieving), oral (m. recieving), overstimulation, a bit of praising, dom coryo, at school sex, smut, nsfw, humiliation, explicit content, slightly degrading

mascara running down your eyes, lipstick kisses on his hips, abdomen and neck, your boyfriend had his hand on your head as he frowned at the pleasure and the perfect sight of having you bobbing your head on his dick.

your boyfriend was such a cute nerd, always giving you the right answers to tests that you were too stupid to answer for yourself. always kissing your lips behind the books shelves. always putting you on your knees and letting his fingers open your mouth as you looked up at him, too whiny cause he tried to get you to understand something your stupid brain couldn't bare.

you were just another stupid brain dead girl who's head was good but not in the right ways- he loved the way you eagerly sucked on his dick, getting him coated in your saliva and kissing his tip as if it was the most precious thing of your life. it was just curious to see someone so dumb using it's inteligence to reproduction purposes. of course, both of you didn't mean to reproduct, but if you were to have a son or daughter, you had to pray that he/she would be just as pretty as you- but not as inteligent.

the soft grunts he let out of his mouth were the prettiest thing you could hear. no matter how many soap operas your father made you watch, the prettiest sounds were made by his throat.

you didn't have a gag reflex. every ex boyfriend you had usually would go nuts because of it. but coryo was different.

your sweet, precious, nerdy boyfriend, was bigger than your average-sized-dick exes. you didn't care- i mean, what is a bit of gagging when his dick is hitting the back of your throat? it was delicious having the chance to taste him.

that's why you were on your knees now, under the library desk as he read (or tried) to read the books in front of him. your mouth was too eager, you seemed hungry for him, pillow plump lips with smeared lipstick engulfing all you could of his inches, every single one could fit into your throat- fuck the gag reflex. you wanted him to the brim.

your thinking was delayed by his sweet words, the sweet tone of his voice cussing you for being so good at sucking a dick but being so horrible with mathematics.

"god, you're so pretty, doll. how can you be so hungry for dick?" he asked, and you moaned against his dick, incapable of giving him any proper answers. "keep going like that, okay? once i'll cum- fuck, we'll come back to studying."

"'don't wanna" you said, muffled by his cock.

"i didn't asked if you want, baby. you will." he said, pulling you by your hair to get you away from his dick. he kissed you, lips and tongue on yours. "now, sit by my side, okay?"

and you obeyed, pouting and trying to clean the lipstick stains off your lips.

his hand went to your thigh after he put his dick back inside his clothes. "c'mon, tell me. do you know the answer to that?" he pointed to a question on the book, something about maths. your worst grades were in this one class.

"i don't." you said, pouting. "c'mon, cory! let me make you cum." you begged, cleaning off the mascara stains now. "don't be such a meanie." you said, blinking your doe eyes.

"nope. answer at least one of those." and you tried, really. but then his fingers were on your damped panties going up and down your slick and you couldn't seem to think anymore. how mean of him.

"i-i don't know, coryo- stop that, if you keep on edgin' then i won't be capable of answerin'-" you slurred, almost crying from the way he was teasing you. he knew you couldn't answer things like that. not in that state.

"c'mon, doll. you know better than that." he said, and you melted almost right away.

"i don't. i swear!" you said, feeling him pull your panties to the side so he could have a better access to you.

"well, i guess you won't be cummin' today. what a shame." he said, thrusting his fingers slowly into you, curling them inside your tight cunt.

"please don't- coryoo, let me cum, please!" you begged, awkwardly bucking against his fingers only to end up mewling into his sudden kiss.

"i kissed you just because you're too loud. you know that the library doesn't permit such lewd actions of love as to kissing."

"you're f..fingering me."

"nuh-uh, i'm trying to teach you the basics of mathematics by pushing you to an edge." he said, kissing your cheek. "but if you're not answering, then maybe i should just stop."

he threatened to pull his fingers out of you, which didn’t happen due to your relentlessly bucking to his fingers. "n-no, i'll answer it! i will!-"

"then do it." he said, his thumb on your clit. "what is the second most read book in the world?"

"d...dom quixote?" you dared, mewling into his fingers, noticing how wet you were by the sounds your pussy was making on him. he gave you a proud smile, getting quicker with his fingers and promptly taking them off you when a teacher passed close by.

he sucked on those fingers, humming about how good you tasted. "such a sweet girl, it isn't even difficult to tell that you're the sweetest in taste too." he said, adjusting your pantiesnas you breathed heavily.

he's such a meanie. spent the whole day teasing you. fingering, grinding, humping, he didn’t got quiet until he accompanied you home, and now, your hands were on the wall as he pounded into you, making sure you felt every single inch of his dick inside you.

"c-cory, you'll let me cum, right? you spent the whole day- fuck! t-teasing me, edging me!" you slurred.

he nodded, kissing your neck. "promise i'll let you, doll. just keep yourself quiet. you don't want your parents to see what a slut you are, do you?"

"n-no, i don't!" you answered, holding all your moans by biting your bottom lip.

"princess," he called you "you don't need to stop moaning. just be good and less louder okay?" you nodded as an answer. the moans you let out after that, were soft grunts, hard to be held as he kept on pounding into you, even harder when his hand found your cunt again, his index on your clit.

"st-stop, coryo. it's gettin' harder to-" another moan, this time due to how he pinched your clit. "s-stop!"

"oh you want me to?"

"n-no, but-"

"no but's. you know you want it. tell me, doll. what do you want?"

"c-cum. want to cum." you begged. "please."

"hm,, i don't really want to end it right now." his pace became quicker; his lips on your shoulder and his words on your ear.

"please. just this once." you tried again, your cunt tightening around him as he pounded slowly inside you.

it was torturing. you could feel your core clenching, his dick throbbing inside you and still he didn’t want to make you cum. he was taking you over the edge.

with that in mind for the next reason you would fight with him, you trembledand squirmed when his dick kissed your uterus just the right way- when he hit the sweetest spots in your cunt that just him knew about.

you cried your eyes out, bucking against him and letting him bury himself into you- it was just too good not to let him do it. and then you were ready to cum all of your pent-up sexual teasing over his dick, and that's what you did, letting his cock be coated with your cum and moaning as you felt his cum going directly into you. rope after rope, spurt after spurt, you were filled up completely by his cum, and he quickly adjusted your panties in the right direction, kissing your temple.

"be a doll and sleep with those hm? full." he said, tapping your ass and kissing you goodbye.

being stupid with those thoughts of yours, you quickly forgot about what he said, and he knew, somehow- because on the next day he fucked you and stuffed his seed into you, he made sure to not let anything leak when he shoved your panties into you.

"don't forget about it this time." and he kissed you again, this time, you oveyed promptly and slept with his cum inside your cunt..

[m0nnypie]

A thief and a Fish

Percy Jackson x Hermes!Reader

Summary: You and Percy are always at each other's throats. But maybe this time he's gone too far...

Words: 918

Warnings: a little angst

Pt 1 - Pt 2

Percy had nothing against you when he first met you, until later, he really had everything against you. You were an annoying person, and stupidly beautiful, not that he would admit something like that.

When he first saw you, you were just another person in Hermes' cabin. A face that he would probably forget soon. He just didn't expect you to invade his life, like a thief invades a house. I mean, it was ironic to say that, thinking that you were a child of Hermes.

Exactly, you were Luke's sibling, well, half-sibling. Luke always portrayed you as someone sweet, and who cared about your friends. But he didn't see it, not only as he didn't saw it, but as he lived it, every miserable day of his life.

It's not news to anyone that you're always bothering him. Whether it's with stupid pranks that he hates, or when you steal from him. He hated your face, your voice and how you could irritate him like no one else, sometimes even surpassing Clarisse.

 At that exact moment, he was leaving his cabin covered in glue and feathers stuck to him, a classic. Everyone he passed laughed and whispered stupid things. He was angry, if it were any other day he would simply ignore your existence (he says he tries), or he would complain to Luke. But not today.

He was tired of this, tired of you always tormenting him. He couldn't let you always do whatever you want with him. No way.

As he was getting close to Hermes' cabin, a familiar blonde stopped in front of him. Holding back a laugh.

"What happened to you? Did you fight with some chicken?" It was funny how Annabeth was usually someone who didn't see the pranks of Hermes' children funny, but when it came to you she always laughed. Probably because you had known each other for a long time and were extremely close.

Which he found a little strange, since you were complete opposites in Percy's opinion.  He could see in those gray eyes the huge urge she had to laugh. But he decided to ignore her and move on.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

He could hear her following him and laughing softly. As soon as he reached the cabin, he opened the door with everything. A bit dramatic he would say.

Everyone looked at him, completely quiet. Until only laughter settled in. Even Luke was hiding a laugh, and you were by his side. Laughing.

“Hey Jackson! Did you fight a chicken?” And “Wow Percy! I like your new look! Where did you get it!”

He just rolled his eyes at what everyone was saying, going straight to you. Today would be the day he would put an end to this, he was tired of it.

“Jackson! What are you doing here?” your voice was completely cynical.

“Are you serious?! You break into my cabin, then steal half of my clothes, stain them, and then get feathers all over me?! Don’t you get tired?”

“Hey! I didn’t steal your clothes! They’re all yours!” You said between laughs. He was starting to get irritated, tired of your sarcasm and jokes.

“Look, it’s not my fault you’re a horrible person and your father doesn’t give you enough attention!”

At that moment the entire cabin fell silent. You could hear a needle falling in that silence. And for the first time in a while, he saw you with an emotionless face.

“Fuck off, Jackson!”  You said, bumping into him and leaving the cabin. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Annabeth glaring at him and then leaving to go after you.

As soon as he turned to whoever was in front of him, everyone was staring at him. Most of them with a look that didn't say much, some contained anger. Even the Stoll brothers were quiet, something that never happened. But what sent shivers down his spine was the look Luke gave him.

Those unmistakable blue eyes looked at him with silent anger. Everyone always said how cool and amazing Luke was, but not when he was training. He always had a menacing look that made anyone's legs tremble when they looked at him. And before he could say anything, Luke spoke up.

"Get out of here, Percy," he said as if he was holding back his own anger, and Percy knew it. He knew he wouldn't do anything in front of so many campers. He turned to leave, he could feel every look weighing on his back.

As soon as Percy left the cabin, he felt like the biggest idiot on earth. He knew how sensitive the topic of gods parents was. Even he hated bringing it up sometimes. He decided he would go to the cabin and clean up the mess he was in, and then he would fix things.

As soon as dinner time came, everyone gathered. No one. I mean no one looked in his direction, not even Annabeth who was one of his friends, or Luke who seemed to like him a lot. Even Clarisse, who used to try to intimidate him by glaring at him 'n throwing threats, was ignoring him. He felt several shoulder shoves during dinner, with sarcastic apologies coming out of everyone's mouths.

And all the while, he tried to look for you, but there was no sign of you. You didn't show up the whole night, and that somehow worried him. Fuck. He really screwed things up this time.

FUCK. Before anyone asks why most people start ignoring Percy, I think it makes a lot of sense for this to happen. Because fuck. Luke is technically respected and feared. So I think that after someone hurt his sibling like that, people would probably take their side. Not to mention that Percy being Poseidon's son only makes things worse for him. Poor Percy lol. 'n tell me if u guys want part 22222.

[ellesreids]

hi!! i wanted to send in a request for a spencer reid x reader fic. i don’t have a particular plot in mind (or you can create headcanons, if you prefer) so you may have to get creative but i love the idea of a funky whimsical reader. like she wears fun socks and has too many plans and has bugs as pets. like an elementary school art teacher vibe yk? maybe she actually is an elementary school art teacher or maybe she works at the bau, you’re choice. i just love this concept cause everyone writes the reader so similarly to spencer, but i think he’d be really compatible with a type b creative person too :) all i ask for is loads of fluff!! i love your writing and im so excited to see what you do with this :) tysm!! sending love ✨⭐️🎀💗

I absolutely love her I already wanna write more and more about her!! thank you for requesting lovely, sending back ten times more love <3 this is basically like a backstory to how they met and got together, but I'm literally already thinking about writing a few blurbs lol.

──── ⊹☆⊹ ────

You and Spencer first met when the FBI was doing their annual school visits at the elementary school where you taught. The whole school hall was packed with children and teachers, and Spencer felt like he was minutes from fainting because he knew he was up next to present and he knew it was going to be near torture trying to explain profiling to a bunch of ten year olds.

Just before he was set to go on stage, his eyes had caught yours. It's not like you were hard to find anyway — you stuck out like a sore thumb, actually. A far cry from any average teacher, with clothes so colorful and lively and jewelry that adorned you all over. Spencer was already starstruck, and he hadn't even talked to you yet.

When you saw him, you gave him a small smile in greeting, noticing his very nervous demeanor, and somehow that alone had helped quell a bit of the firing nerves that shot through his body. The kids couldn't care less what Spencer was talking about, and much less the teachers, but you practically had your eyes glued to him, giving him encouraging nods as he sputtered his way through his fully memorised presentation.

He had tried to talk to you after his speech was over, but as all the kids were pushing their way outside of the hall and back to their respective classes, he lost you somewhere in the crowds. He thought about you for days after that encounter, and didn't get to see you again until about a week later, when you, by some miracle, walked into the bullpen of the BAU holding a huge fruit basket that had been meant to be given to the team the day of the school visit. You definitely were a spectacle, turning heads and piquing interest as you made your way through the office. Flowy skirt, crinkled, paint-stained shirt, and jiggling bangles in contrast to all the crisp, perfectly tailored suits that surrounded you.

Morgan, ever the gentleman, saw you struggling and offered to help take the gift from your hands, and you thanked him profusely. Just as you were getting ready to make your way back to school after some friendly small talk with Morgan, you noticed him, sitting at his desk seemingly completely enraptured with the file he was reading. The cute agent that had been so nervous he started turning pale. The colour had definitely returned to his face now, and he looked even cuter than before, so after politely excusing yourself, you decided to make your way over to his desk.

When Spencer saw you standing at his desk, same warm smile as before when you greated him, he was starstruck all over again, sitting there with a mouth slighty agape as you complimented his total wreck of a presentation. "I'd like to treat you to a coffee sometime to, y'know, say thank you for coming to talk to the kids." It was a horrible cover-up, but it seemed to work nevertheless, and when the doctor had gathered enough of his impressive IQ points, he managed to accept your offer in an almost incoherent mess of words.

You had since then taken him out to coffee, and naturally, a date followed, and then a few more.

And now, Spencer couldn't even believe his luck. He had almost made peace with the idea that he'd never see you again, and now you were sitting across him in the busy restaurant on your now sixth date. In many ways, you and Spencer are complete opposites. Where Spencer thrives in routine and familiarity, you're much more flexible and adaptable. You're a take it as it comes kind of person, yet he functions better the further away he can plan.

Your patience and creativity make it easy for him to see why you're a teacher as well, and Spencer swears he'd already fallen in love by the first date. He tries to reel it in, though, afraid of scaring you off with his overeagerness, but you don't seem to mind at all. You look at him with stars in your eyes every time he rambles about whatever subject he seems to have endless knowledge on, and sometimes you even counter with your own rambles. The two of you complemented each other in the most perfect way; like two opposite poles of a magnet, yet unstoppably drawn to each other.

After your date, he takes you home and walks you to the door like a gentleman, and when you ask him if he'd like to stay for a cup of tea, he accepts with a shy smile and red-tipped ears. If he thought your clothes were a perfect reflection of your personality, your house is even more so. The inside is filled with the type of warm lighting that feels nostalgic, the scent of cinnamon and bergamot permeates through the air, trinkets and paintings are scattered in every corner his eyes falls to and plants are pearched on and near every window in sight.

You take off your shoes, and he mimics you, the both of you bursting into a fit of giggles when you notice each others' socks. The two of you make your way to your living area as the kettle boils, and he's greeted by your cat, rubbing herself against his leg with a soft purr. "She likes you," you say with a happy shriek, "and she normally doesn't like anyone that fast, so you should feel honored." He does feel honored, funny enough. If it means that much to you, it means even more to him that your cat likes him.

For probably the millionth time since he's met you, he's completely enamored with you. He watches as you speak animatedly, one hand petting the cat now in your lap while the other holds your cup of tea. He winces a little when you move the cup around so seemingly neverminded, but you've managed to not spill anything yet, which he thinks is quite impressive.

His brain was going a hundred miles a minute as you. He realized he'd now had something, someone to look forward to when he returned from cases. Someone who waited for him and missed him. He had someone to share his thoughts with, someone who listened and truly cared about everything he had to say.

The realization makes his heart ache, this funny feeling that starts in his chest and spreads through his whole body like white heat. He feels a little breathless, hand absent-mindedly clutching his chest in a way that would probably seem melodramatic to anyone else watching.

"Spencer? Are you okay?" you ask, breaking him from his reverie as you place your almost empty cup on the nearby coffee table before you're feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. It was silly, but you were so used to working with kids who got sick out of the blue, and Spencer had suddenly started looking deathly pale.

"I'm fine, it's just," he hesitates, and you pull your hand away, carefully shuffling a little closer to show him he had your undivided attention. "I'm very happy we found each other," he finally says, eyes lifting from his lap to gauge your reaction.

"I'm just as happy, Spence," you smile, "you make me very happy." Without really thinking about it, you press a kiss to his cheek to reiterate your words. As soon as you're pulling away, Spencer's chasing your lips with his, and in a very uncharacteristically bold move, he kisses you in a way he hopes will reiterate his words just as perfectly. You return the kiss tenfold, hands grasping his face as you pulled him impossibly closer, kissing him until you both were breathless. Once you're pulling away, Spencer feels like his brain is steadily melting out of his ears, heart beating faster than he thinks is healthy.

That was the night you Spencer asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, his days have been brighter than ever.

[shelbgrey]

Can we maybe get some new smut for mark sloan

Too Sweet(Mark Sloan)

Paring: Mark Sloan x Wife!Reader

Summary: Mark and y/n could careless about any hospital functions and they happen to have other things on their minds.

Warnings: SMUT, quickie, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, mark trying to hide a hard on, lipstick stains, slight fingering, pantie rading, slight public sex, getting bent over a desk. Mark and y/n not giving a fuck about what they say to each other, slight mention of creepy business guys. Mark Sloan just being Mark Sloan, not edited, horrible ending.

MasterList ML2

“Do we have half to go?” y/n called out to Mark as he stood in front of her full length mirror, fixing his tie. She was in the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom, the bathroom mirror was right next to the door, giving her a view of Mark moving about their room. She was kinda dragging ass, not really feeling like getting out tonight after a long work week. Mark got her butt moving, saying they could just go and make fun of all the rich, old perverts.

“Afraid so, gorgeous. Derek would have our heads if both department heads didn't show up to his precious meeting.” Mark called back.

She stood In front of the mirror, her dress was still hanging up on the bathroom door leaving just her lace bra and pantie set to hug her curves while she put her makeup on. The hospital they worked at had this meeting/banquet thing tonight Derek was hosting and they were both expected to come since she was head of the Peds department and Mark was head of plastics

Mark stopped messing with his tie for a second and looked over, eyes gliding over her curves and the lacey undergarments she was wearing as his gaze drank her in. He walked over and leaned up against the doorframe, admiring the view as he looked at her. He couldn't help but feel a slight throb of desire run through him as his eyes raked over her form. He cleared his throat trying to keep the desire from his expression.

“It seems so pointless” y/n said, then started applying her red lipstick.

“It definitely is, but you know how Derek is” He pushed off the doorframe and stepped up behind her, sliding his body up close to hers with a smirk as his hands settled on her hips and pulled her back against him. He could feel the heat rising between them as he pressed his body up against her curves.

He couldn't stop looking at her, how her body moved as she applied the makeup, the way the black and red lace hugged her curves. He knew they were gonna be late if he didn't stop staring. “And you definitely like the attention” y/n mumbled, concentrating as she put on her mascara.

Mark chuckled and pressed a kiss behind her ear, his lips skimming along the side of her neck. His hand slipped from her hips, fingers trailing along her exposed skin as they continued to move lower down her body. He knew he shouldn't be doing this now, but he just couldn't help it. The way she was moving right now, her body pressed up against him, it was too much for him to resist. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. “Maybe we can sneak out early”

“Hmm. Well, you do owe me lots of sex for making me go to this damn thing”

“That I do” Mark smirked, nipping at the soft skin of her neck gently with his teeth. He moved his hands back up, cupping her breasts and giving them a slight squeeze as his lips continued to trail down her neck. her breath hitched, she could feel him growing harder against her ass. She felt her skin heat up and she fought the urge not to jump his bones right then and there. He could feel her body responding to his, the desire starting to take over his thoughts. He couldn't resist her, not when she was this close to him and looking like that.

Y/n turned around, leaning against the bathroom counter. She dragged her fingers up his chest, feeling his muscular frame underneath his dress clothes. “You know, I think I need some,” she grabbed his tie, pulling her closer and bent her knee up, pressing her inner thigh against his side. “motivation to go to this damn thing”

Mark's eyes flashed with desire as he looked down at her, his hands moving to grip her thigh as she pulled him closer. He captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue pushing past her lips as he pressed himself against her. “Fuck, y/n. We have to go”

“Quickie before we leave, Dr. Sloan?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

Mark groaned, his resolve weakening as Shelby's playful request sent a jolt straight to his groin. “Dammit, you're killing me, woman” Despite his words, his hands slid under her ass, lifting her easily onto the bathroom counter as she pulled him between her thighs by his tie.

Mark leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. He squeezed her ass, pulling away as she reached between them and yanked his belt open. “Quick and dirty, then we leave. Got it?”

“Yep” she said, her breathing rushed as she pushed his pants and boxers down enough to free his hardened cock. She wrapped her other leg around his hips as Mark practically ripped his suit jacket off his shoulders and threw it on the bathroom floor.

Mark growled possessively as he pulled her underwear off, stuffing the lace in his pocket. He speared into her thighs and entered with one thrust, making her gasp. She was already so wet his entry was smooth and easy. “Fuck!” He started moving, his hips slapping against hers with each thrust, his fingers digging possessively into her hips.

“Mark!” Y/n moaned, fisting his hair as he buried his face into her breasts, his facial hair scraping against her smooth skin.

“Come on, baby” He growled, nipping at her breasts softly. He knew this wasn't going to last long, not when she was making those noises and pulling his hair like that. He could feel her heels digging into his back as she pulled him closer. He picked up his pace, the bathroom filling with their loud, dirty sounds and the scent of sex.

she felt the familiar pressure build up in her lower abdomen. Her breath hitched and she fisted his white dress shirt in her fists, her toes curling behind him. “Fuck, Mark I'm gonna cum” her breath hitched.

“Fuck yes, cum for me Baby” Mark groaned against her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he thrust even harder, feeling her tighten around him. He slid one hand between them, finding her clit and rubbing firmly, pushing her over the edge.

Y/n finally reached the edge, letting all her nerves tightened as her vision became stary and almost nonexistent, her legs tightened around his hips and her nails bit into his biceps, a groan caught in Mark's throat as he watched her eyes roll back for the immense pleasure while her head fell forward against his shoulder. She wasn't used to getting things done this fast, let alone finishing so soon. Her orgasm washed over her, loud moans and profanities coming out from her mouth.

Mark groaned her name, his arms wrapping around her possessively as he held her against the counter, his hips jerking erratically as he found his own release inside her. He stayed like that for a moment, catching his breath, his face buried in her neck “Damn”

“Oh shit” she said breathlessly, carding her fingers through his messy hair.

Mark chuckled softly against her neck, his hands slowly sliding down to grip her thighs as he pulled out of her gently. He looked down at the mess between her legs and the state of his pants, shaking his head with a smirk. “God, we have to clean up and go, we're going to be late”

Y/n sighed. “fuck, I know”

Mark turned around and grabbed a towel off the rack, pressing it between her legs gently before wiping his own hips and throwing it in the hamper. He helped her off the counter and pulled up his pants, fixing his belt before running a hand through his messy hair.

“There's lipstick on your jaw too” she said, grabbing her dress and tugging it up her body.

Mark turned to the mirror, wiping at the lipstick smudge on his jaw with a smirk. He adjusted his tie and straightened his suit jacket, trying to look somewhat presentable. “I think we broke a record, that's the quickest we've ever done it”

“Well, I guess you're doing something right,” she said, smoothing her dress down then turned her back to him, her dress wide open. “zip me up, please”

Mark's eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his fingers brushing against her bare back as he slowly zipped up her dress. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder before stepping back. “There you go, all presentable again” He adjusted his cufflinks with a smirk.

“Yeah, but I'm gonna have to fix my makeup in the car” She said as she looked in the mirror, fixing her hair. She couldn't get her curls to calm back down, so she just quickly put her hair up nicely in a claw clip as Mark watched her in the mirror. He liked her like this - makeup smudged, hair slightly messy, dress back in place. He couldn't tell that she'd just been thoroughly fucked on the bathroom counter. He adjusted his watch and smirked.

Time was ticking so y/n quickly rushed to their bedroom and put her converse, as she laced them up she looked around. “And where are my panties?”

Grinning mischievously, he casually reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lacy piece of fabric. “what? These? You won't need them if I'm just gonna take them off again in a couple of hours,” He winks, then stuffs them back into his jacket pocket and slung his suit jacket over his shoulder. “Now come on, beauty queen. Hospital is a waitin’”

Y/n rolled her eyes at her husband as she grabbed her makeup bag and followed him out to the car. “you realized I'm in a dress, I need underwear” Everything was covered and the dress was extra long on her because she was short but that wasn't the point.

He ignores her protest, opening the passenger door for her with a smirk. “Too bad,” He teases, sliding into the driver's seat. “You look fine without them, trust me” He backs out of the driveway, adjusting his mirrors.

“Mhm” she rolled her eyes as she pulled down the passenger visor and used the mirror on it to start fixing her makeup.

He watches her try to fix her smoky eye from the corner of his eye. He knew that dress was doing crazy things to her curves - it was tight around her breasts and flowy everywhere else. He adjusted his pants slightly and smirked as she applied a new layer of red lipstick.

“Red lipstick on you should be illegal” He murmurs his hand moves to her thigh, giving it a possessive squeeze as he kept his other hand on the wheel.

“You really shouldn't be touching me there right now” she mumbled, putting on her mascara.

He chuckles, his hand lingering on her thigh for a moment longer before moving back to the wheel. “Can't help it. You look too damn good” He glances at her, his eyes darkening with desire as he watches her from the corner of his eye.

Y/n rolled her eyes as Mark's dropped to her legs. The dress was long but it rode up slightly when she sat, showing off a bit of thigh. He swallowed hard and adjusted his pants again. He was getting hard again - this woman was unhinged. He smirked slightly.

“Eyes on the road, buster” Y/n said, quickly brushing on some blush on her cheeks then quickly packed everything up in her makeup bag then tossed it in the back seat.

“Yes ma'am,” He mocks with a smirk, keeping his eyes on the road. He stole a glance at her though - legs crossed, hair up in that sexy as hell clip, makeup fixed. He realized something, “You know what?”

“Hm?”

“You're really fucking pretty,” He said it so nonchalantly, like it was just another comment. He turned the car into the hospital parking lot and found a spot. “I'm a lucky guy”

“Damn right you are” She smirked. Mark was usually the cocky one, the one to tease, but every once in a while she'd get a jab in too.

Mark laughed, turning off the engine. He got out of the car and walked over to her side, opening the door for her. He offered his hand to help her out, his eyes roaming over her body appreciatively. “Come on, princess. Let's go be social and shit”

Y/n groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes as she got out of the car then smoothed out her dress. Mark chuckles, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her into the hospital. He nodded and smiled at the familiar faces, his other hand resting on her hip possessively. He was showing off - showing the whole hospital that he had the prettiest wife and the best life.

“God, this sucks”

Mark leaned down and his lips brushed against her ear, whispering as his front pressed against her back. “You know what else sucks?” His hand gives her hip a gentle squeeze “I'm still fucking hard”

“Don't you dare start pitching a tent”

He let out a soft, husky laugh. “Baby, with you in that fucking dress? I'm basically walking around with a constant boner,” He whispered low enough that only she could hear, his fingers tracing small circles on her hip. “And that fucking lipstick”

“Behave yourself” y/n whispered back, looking over her shoulder at him as he pressed himself against her, hiding the growing problems in his pants.

Mark nuzzles the crook of her neck, hiding his face. He was getting harder- she always did this to him. He growled softly, his hands dropping to grip her hips possessively. He was sure no one could tell he was semi-hard right now. “okay, we shouldn't have done that fucking quickie”

“Frustrated, honey?” she teased him.

“You're fucking telling me,” He muttered darkly, his fingers squeezing her hips. “We should've just stayed home and fucked all night instead of coming to this stupid party” He rested his forehead against her shoulder, letting out a soft, annoyed grunt.

Y/n rolled her eyes, holding back the 'I was right' hassle. She was thankful they were in the back, away from other hospital board members that were invited. “You need to pull yourself together” she whispered to him, not admitting she was just as frustrated as he was.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get his body to calm down. He looked around, making sure no one was paying attention to them. He was acting like a teenager with a constant boner. “Fine, fine” He muttered, adjusting himself discreetly.

Y/n gave him a few seconds to fix himself while she stayed standing in front of him with her back facing him. “Are you good?”

He let out a soft sigh of relief when his pants felt a bit more comfortable. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder. “Yeah, I'm good” He murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Good, cause we need to go mingle”

He sighs dramatically, straightening up and adjusting his pants discreetly. He takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers as he leads her towards the group of doctors and nurses gathered around the buffet table. “Alright, alright. Let's go schmooze with these losers.”

Mark leans in to whisper as they approach the group, “Remember, smile and nod. That's all you need to do. I'll handle the rest of the bullshit” He teased her, getting her back for what she was doing to him. He flashed a charming smile at the doctors who were already starting to notice them.

“Wow, now you make me sound like a trophy wife” she joked. They both knew she wasn't, but Mark also knew she didn't like crowds despite being a doctor.

He chuckles, pulling her a bit closer to his side. He knew she hated crowds and socializing, but he also knew she was a great doctor and deserved the recognition. He leaned down to whisper in her ear again. “You're no trophy, you're a fucking queen”

“Damn right”

Mark was about ready to convince y/n to go somewhere private, preferably her office. Unfortunately Derek waved them over, he was with one of the board members from Seattle press. “this is Mark Sloan, head of plastics and Y/n Sloan, head of Peds” Derek said as Mark shook the man's hand, trying to keep his cool.

“Yes, I read your guys' article about your Treacher Collins case. Very impressive” the man said, his eyes lingering on y/n a bit too long. Y/n forced a smile, being polite as possible.

Mark's jaw clenched slightly as he noticed the man's gaze lingering on y/n. He wrapped an arm around her waist possessively, his hand splaying across her hip. “Thank you, we're quite proud of it” He replied curtly, his tone a bit colder than necessary.

Eventually Derek and the man walked away, Y/n rolled her eyes. Mark watched, his arm still around Y/n's waist. He turned to her, his voice low and irritated. “Can you believe that guy? Staring at you like that?” He rolled his eyes dramatically, his jealousy barely contained. “Asshole”

“What? Jealous?” she smirked.

Mark scoffed, his face turning slightly red. He pulled her closer, his face inches from hers. “Of course I'm fucking jealous. You're my wife, and he was staring at you like you were a piece of meat” He growled softly, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

Y/n bit her lip, suppressing a giggle. “You're sexy when you're jealous” she teased, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer.

Mark's heart rate picked up at her teasing, his hands squeezing her hips possessively. “Fuck, stop saying shit like that,” He muttered darkly, his face buried in her neck. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “We need to go to your office”

Y/n quickly nodded and Mark looked around quickly, making sure no one was paying attention to them. He took her hand and led her towards the elevator, his grip firm. Once the elevator doors closed, he had her pressed against the wall, his mouth crashing against hers.

Y/n gasped against his lips as her back hit the elevator wall, the cold metal nipped at the exposed skin on her back. She carded her fingers through his hair. She hadn't realized how fired up she still was from the quickie. She grabbed his belt, pulling him closer to her by it as she tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss, her red lipstick smudging.

Mark growled low in his throat, his hands gripping one of her thighs and hiked it against his hip. He ground himself against her core, his mouth messy and aggressive. “Jesus christ” He muttered against her lips.

she moaned desperately against his lips as her dress rode up her thigh, cashing goosebumps to cover her skin. Then his hand trailed down between her legs. Mark's fingers slipped under her dress, she was still bare from early. He groaned when he was immediately met with how wet she already was, or still was. His fingers slipped against her folds, teasing her gently before sliding it inside. “Fucking hell, Baby” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n gasped, gripping his biceps. She hadn't realized how desperate she really was till now, she was too busy teasing him. “M-mark, not here” She whispered against his ear, smudging his jaw with what was left of her lipstick.

Mark's breath hitched at her whisper, his fingers curling inside her. He knew they were in a public place, but the thought of taking her right there in the elevator was incredibly tempting. He pulled his fingers out slowly, making Y/n gasp again before he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean. He pressed his hips against hers, letting her feel just how hard he was for her. The elevator dinged, signaling they were on the Peds floor where y/n's office was.

The elevator doors opened and Mark grabbed y/n’s hand, leading her out of the elevator and down the hall to her office. He quickly pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind them. “Lock it”

She quickly locked it then grabbed the front of his belt, pulling him against her. He let out a low growl, his hands immediately going to her hips. “Jesus, Y/n” he muttered, his mouth crashing down on hers in a hungry kiss. His hands moved to her ass, lifting her slightly so she could feel his hardness against her core.

Y/n gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist, Mark let out a low groan, the feeling of her bare pussy against his cloth covered dick almost too much to handle. He broke the kiss, burying his face in her neck as he started to walk towards her desk. “Fuck, you're so wet”

“Mark,” she panted “Fuck me”

He growled possessively, sitting her down on the desk. He unbuckled his belt quickly, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. He spread her legs wider, teasing her buy rubbing his tip up and down her soaked slit, “you want me to Fuck you?” His voice hoarse.

“Y-yes” she whimpered desperately, gripping his dress shirt in her fists. She lifted her hips off her desk slightly, trying to grind against him. She needed friction so bad, but he pulled away. “Dammit, Mark”

“Not so fast, princess,” he teased, enjoying her desperation too much. He continued to tease her with just the tip, running it against her clit but never fully pushing in. “You've been teasing me all fucking day”

“that was justifiable” y/n groaned.

“Mhmm,” He murmured, snapping his hips slightly, making her moan. He slowly moved away from her entrance. He knew she was desperate, her body was covered in goosebumps and she was making small needy noises.

“P-please”

He smirked against her neck, his hands squeezing her thighs possessively. “Please what, Baby?” He asked, his voice low and mocking. He grabbed her hips and bent her over her desk suddenly, making her gasp. “You want me to fuck you on your desk?”

“Y-yes!”

Without another word, he finally slammed into her, making her cry out loudly. He started to pound into her relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with their moans and cries. “Fuck, you're so tight,” He groaned, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Look at you taking my cock so perfectly, baby” he groaned, speeding up his pace. The sound of her office supplies rattling with each thrust was incredibly sexy. He leaned over her back, one hand trailing up to grab her hair.

“Mark!” She gasped desperately, gripping the sides of her desk for Leverage. She rutted her hips back, pressing her ass against him.

He loved the way she was trying to pull him deeper, his long length hitting all the right spots inside her. He wrapped her hair around his fist, gently tugging her head back so he could nuzzle his face against her neck. “You like this baby?”

“Fuck, yes!” she cried out, reaching behind her to grab his hips.

“That's it, take my cock like a good girl,” he growled, his hips slapping against her ass. He let go of her hair, his hand moving to her shoulder to hold her in place as he pounded into her harder. “You feel so fucking good, Y/n”

She moaned louder. “Oh, fuck. right there” she said breathlessly.

Mark groaned, feeling her tighten around him. “Right there, baby?” he asked, hitting that spot over and over again. He could feel his orgasm building, but he wanted to make sure she came first. He reached around with one hand and found her clit, rubbing it in slow circles.

Mark growled, continuing his relentless thrusts while focusing pressure on her clit. The office supplies were now fully scattered across her desk, the sound of them clattering mixed with their heavy breathing and moans. “H-harder” y/n gasped.

He growled, his hips moving like a machine as he pounded into her harder, his fingers pressing against her clit harder. “Baby, come on my dick,” he growled, his own release barreling down on him. “I can't hold back much longer”

“Oh fuck, I'm cumming!” she gasped as she finally reached the edge. Her body tensed from the immense pleasure as her forehead pressed against the desk. Her orgasm hit her like a train, loud moans and pants coming out from her mouth.

Mark couldn't hold back as he felt her tight pussy clamp around his cock, her orgasm triggering his own. He slammed into her one last time with a loud groan, burying himself deep as rope after rope of cum shot inside her. His grip on her hips tightened, fingertips digging into her soft flesh.

“S-shit”

Breathing heavily, he continued to throb inside her, slowly pulling out carefully. “Fuck Y/n, that was-” he trailed off, grabbing some tissues from her desk to clean up. His hands slightly shaky from the intense orgasm. He pulled up his pants but left the belt undone. She grabbed his face in her hands, crashing her lips against his.

“That was perfect” She said softly, catching her breath.

“Damn right,” Mark could see the desperation and satisfaction in her eyes, a mix that made his cock twitch despite having just come. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against hers. He chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “God, you're going to be the death of me” he murmured before stealing another quick kiss. He gently pulled away, straightening up his clothes as he glanced around the messy office.

“yeah, I'll deal with it Monday” y/n Sighed.

“mhm” Mark kissed the side of her forehead. “we're getting you home, I'm far from finished with you”

[loverangels]

somethin' stupid

pairings: laurie laurence x fem!reader

synopsis: you had watched the boy you loved run after another girl your whole life, yet when he falls back to you as his second option you have to make a heartbreaking decision.

a/n: literally all angst 😭, use of (name), mention of drinking

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

Through foggy windows and layers of love, you had watched Laurie Laurence devote his adoration to jo march. Despite being there as a friend to step back on, despite the comforting moments where you were a shoulder to cry on, and despite the fact that you were utterly and profoundly in love with the boy, it didn't seem to change anything.

Moments were hard, watching Laurie and your best friend Jo during the times where the three of you hung out, watching Jo being her carefree self not needing to try to get Laurie's attention, the alternative to you, whilst Laurie chased her around and danced with his feelings around her.

And then there was you.

Jo had confided to you of her fears of the laurence boys feelings, and Laurie confided to you his feelings for Jo.

'i just don't know what to do!' Jo exclaimed 'i love Laurie I do but...not the way he loves me. My love is as strong, it just comes from a different place'

'i love her and I think...I think if I showed her how much I love her she'll tell me loves me just as much' Laurie sighed leaning his head on your shoulder. 'shes the only one for me'

and you? well you were just there.

a witness to the horrible testimony despite your shattered heart.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

You knew what had taken place the moment you had watched Laurie out of your window, almost somberly walk back, home his head hung down, hands stuffed in his pockets and tears stained down his cheeks.

You knew Jo had refused him.

You should have felt a relief, the cold rush over your body as though you had just taken a refreshing gulp of air.

You felt almost cleansed and you were ashamed of yourself for that.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

Four years.

You had never thought how lonely you would be, every night it seemed as though you cursed yourself for ever wishing such a horrible thing upon Laurie because now...now it had been four years since you had seen him.

Your mother had passed away not too long after Laurie had left for Europe.

Not only were you dealing with the grief for the boy who you loved, but also for the turning point of losing a mother.

With the some of the last money you had, you arranged a nice small ceremony for her, inviting the marchs' and Laurie.

However it seemed as though Laurie hadn't cared enough to arrive back.

The marchs' gave their condolences comforting you, yet it seemed as though the one person who you needed the most didn't need you.

At the end of the first year you decided to go abroad. To Italy. You packed all the last possesions you owned and rented your small home out to a family whilst you were abroad.

Landing in Italy you had opened a tailor shop selling plain dresses and mending old belongings. As you made a name for yourself and gathered more money you had made a wider range of clothing and now luxurious elegant gowns.

So that's what you did.

Rich women with rich needs would come to you to stitch together a gown of their dreams, and you would make quite a good living out of it.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

It had been years and you were thriving, you had a fiancé who had quite some money and was a thoughtful man, you yourself had made yourself a name and money and you had some friends.

And now you were here dragged by Amy to some sort of party in paris.

How you ended up there was beyond you.

The room was buzzing with excited chatter and flirty glances, the floor lit with somber lighting, shirts loosened and curls detangled.

Engaging happily with Amy about Aaron, your fiancé, a glass in your hand as you swirled the remains of your drink.

"...and we're to get married in summer," you continue, your voice carrying a practiced cheerfulness. "Aaron and I were debating on May, but having it in the summer seemed perfect—" You pause mid-sentence, noticing Amy's gaze shift behind you. Her eyes widen, darting nervously between you and whatever—or whoever—she sees.

Your heart begins to race, dread and curiosity mingling as you slowly turn to follow her line of sight. And there he is. Laurie. Theodore Laurence, strewn across a couch in the midst of a lively crowd, his drunken smile and magnetic presence exactly as you remember—and yet entirely unfamiliar. For a moment, the world tilts, the din of laughter and clinking glasses fading into silence. It’s been four years. Four years since you last saw him, four years since you tucked your feelings for him into the quiet corner of your heart, convinced he’d never look at you the way you wished he would.

And yet, here he is, thrown casually on the arm of a velvet couch, a charming grin aimed at the young women beside him.

Your chest tightens as the sight of him threatens to undo you. He looks so at ease, so... content. You force yourself to breathe, but the air feels heavy, laden with emotions you thought you'd buried long ago. Your fingers tighten around the stem of your glass as he glances up—and for the briefest moment, your eyes meet.

Air caught in your throat as you swallow the lump weighing down on your heart, as you tear your eyes away, whipping back around to Amy almost at a loss for breath.

Shaken you excuse yourself from Amy and her pitiful eyes when she gives your hand a squeeze, as you walk past and outside onto the porch, letting your eyes close as the cool breeze softens your muscles.

After a few minutes of regulating your breathing, you turned around, your fingers brushing the ornate railing of the Parisian railing of the poarch. as you hear the soft click of the door opening behind you. The distant hum of party chatter and laughter carried on the breeze, but it was his voice, low and familiar, that pierced through it all.

'(name)'

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you froze. You hadn’t heard him say your name in years, not like this—gentle, hesitant, almost uncertain. It sounded older, heavier somehow, as if he bore the weight of those four years just as you did.

You turn slowly, the soft glow of the garden lamps casting faint shadows across his face. He was still Laurie—blacken hair and sharp-featured—but his boyishness had given way to something sharper, something a little more tired. He stepped towards you, and you instinctively took a step back, gripping the railing tighter.

"You followed me out here?" Your voice cold, more so than you intended, but the storm of emotions building in your chest left little room for restraint.

He stopped short, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. "I had to."

"Had to?" you echoed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "That’s funny, because you didn’t have to—" you bit the words off, closing her eyes briefly, as if reining in your anger. When you opened them again, your gaze was sharp and unyielding. "You didn’t have to come to my mother’s funeral. Or write. Or even—" you shook your head, your voice cracking slightly. "You didn’t have to do anything, did you, Laurie?"

He flinched, and for the first time, you saw the guilt etched into his features. "I—"

"Where were you?" The question came out like a whisper, but it hit him like a blow. "Where were you when I needed you most?"

Laurie looked down at his hands, as if searching for an answer there, before finally meeting your gaze. "I was a coward," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "When Jo said no, I ran. I didn’t know how to stay. Not with you, not with anyone. I thought—" He took a shaky breath. "I thought I was doing you a favor by staying away."

"A favor?" You repeat, incredulous. "You thought abandoning me—when I lost the only family I had left—was a favor?"

"I didn’t know what to say!" he burst out, his voice rising. "I didn’t know how to look you in the eye and face what I’d done. And I ruined it. I ruined everything."

"You didn’t ruin it," you said finally, your voice trembling. "You just… left. And you broke me, Laurie. You broke me."

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, broken only by the faint strains of music drifting out from the party inside. He looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I’m sorry," he said.

But sorry wasn’t enough.

You turn your back to him, gripping the railing as you stare out into the garden. "You can’t just show up here and expect everything to go back to the way it was," you say quietly. "I’ve spent years putting myself back together. And I don’t even know if I want—" you stopped, shaking your head.

"If you want me in your life," Laurie finished for her, his voice soft. He stepped closer, but this time, he didn’t try to reach for you. "I understand. I don’t deserve it. But I’d like to try, if you’ll let me."

You turn to face him again, eyes searching his for something—anything—that would make this easier. What you saw there wasn’t the boy you fallen in love with. It was someone else entirely. Someone older. Someone who had suffered in his own way.

"Small steps," you said at last, voice steady but firm. "If we’re going to fix this… it’s going to take time."

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he nodded. "Small steps," he repeated.

The faint trace of a smile tugged at your lips, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Good."

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

Over the span of a few weeks, you and Laurie had spent many occasions together, slowly constructing back the fondness you both held for each other. Tension was still palpable and strained at times, yet often you found yourself grinning and laughing at him.

Right now Laurie had arrived outside of the hotel you were residing in and you agreed to let him tag along.

As you shopped for a wedding dress.

When you told Laurie you were engaged you were too busy avoiding his gaze, and acting as though you were indifferent to his opinion, than to notice his crestfallen look and clenched jaw as you told him about Aaron.

Now, with the same bitter taste on his tongue, laurie was trailing along you as you busied yourself with the racks of dresses.

'you havent told me when the wedding is' Laurie spoke as you picked a certain dress that had caught your eye.

'oh' you simply remark 'its taking place in Rome in June'

And that's the last thing you say before you walk into the dressing room, dress in your hand, leaving laurie drowning in the words that threaten to leave his tongue.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

The silk glided over your skin as you stepped out of the dressing room, your breath catching at the sight in the mirror. The gown clung and flowed in all the right places, the corset cinching your waist perfectly while the long, flowy sleeves cascaded like a whisper of elegance. Tiny pink roses and green leaves embroidered on the fabric seemed to bloom in the soft light of the shop, each detail a testament to the craftsmanship. The bow at the small of your back tied it all together, making you feel—for the first time in a long while—utterly beautiful.

You turned slightly, running your fingers over the delicate embroidery, your reflection almost unrecognizable. "It’s perfect," you murmured to yourself, a small smile tugging at your lips.

The sound of footsteps made you glance toward the door, and there he was. Laurie.

He froze the moment he saw you. His hand still on the door, his lips parted slightly, as though he’d forgotten how to breathe. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, drinking in every detail as if he was committing it to memory—the softness of the silk, the curve of the corset, the gentle blush of the embroidery, the way the gown moved with you like it was made for no one else.

"You—" he began, his voice catching. He stepped closer, his expression shifting into something almost reverent. "You look… breathtaking."

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you ducked your head slightly, a laugh escaping despite yourself. "You’re being dramatic."

"I’m not," he said quickly, almost too quickly. His voice was softer now, his eyes locked on you. "I mean it. You look… like a dream."

You felt the compliment settle in your chest, warm and fluttering, as though it had been a long time since someone looked at you quite like that. You smoothed the fabric of the dress nervously, glancing back at your reflection. "Do you think Aaron will like it?"

The words hung in the air like a crack of thunder.

Laurie’s expression changed instantly, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something harder, sharper. His jaw tightened, and he took a step back as if the name physically pushed him away.

"Don’t marry him," he said suddenly, his voice low and urgent.

You blinked, stunned. "What?"

"Don’t marry him," he repeated, louder this time, his eyes searching yours. There was a desperation in his voice, an almost frantic edge. "I can’t— I won’t let you."

Anger flared in your chest, your heart pounding as you turned to face him fully. "What are you talking about? You won’t let me? Laurie, what—"

"I love you," he interrupted, the words tumbling out as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his voice breaking. "I love you, (name). I have for so long, and I was too stupid to see it, to admit it. But I see it now, and it’s not too late—"

"Not too late?" you cut him off, your voice rising. "Not too late?" Emotion surged through you, hot and overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, the words poured out. "Laurie, I loved you from the moment I met you. It was always you, me, and Jo. And I waited for you. I waited even after you left, even after my mother died, even after you didn’t come back. And now—" Your voice cracked, your eyes stinging with tears. "Now, when I’ve finally moved on, when I’ve built a life for myself, this is when you tell me you love me?"

"(name)—" he began, stepping toward you, but you held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"No," you said, shaking your head, your voice trembling with frustration. "I won’t be your second choice, Laurie."

"You’re not—"

"Really?" you snapped, your eyes blazing as the tears spilled over. "Jo didn’t marry you, so now you fall back to the person you know would? That’s cruel. It’s mean, and I won’t give you the satisfaction."

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you heavy with words unsaid. Laurie’s face crumpled, his shoulders slumping as if your words had struck him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

You turned sharply, retreating to the dressing room, your hands trembling as you pulled at the laces of the corset. The dress that had made you feel so beautiful minutes ago now felt suffocating, the silk clinging too tightly to your skin. You slipped back into your regular clothes, blinking back tears as you tried to steady your breathing.

When you stepped out, the shop was quiet. Too quiet. Laurie was gone.

The woman behind the counter gave you a sympathetic look, her hands clasped in front of her. "He paid for the dress," she said softly, as if afraid her words might shatter you completely.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and forced yourself to smile. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you left the shop, the weight of everything pressed down on you, but you held your head high, determined not to let the tears fall. Not here. Not now.

[reverieblondie]

Taste so Sweet

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Oral (fem receiving), Cum eating, Horn pulling, Spit kink, Eludes to addiction, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (Please wrap before you tap) and Biting.

Summary: After a passionate make out session you find you just can't stop thinking of Rolan, and how sweet he taste.

A/N: So I have had this on the back burner for months! and though it is not for everyone I really enjoyed writing it and hope people find it as hot as I do. Enjoy!

Word count: 6,377

Maybe it was the final straw that caused this? Or maybe it was that tightening in your chest you feel when you stand near him. Everything seems to draw you in closer to him, from his refreshing musk to his voice with that accented lisp that slips when he relaxes and those golden eyes that glitter like distant stars. Perhaps, and more accurately, it was the classic case of liquor encouragement that often turns people to slip their truths. Though you had hidden the truth of your deep desires in your sultry lie…

“Just one kiss…friends can kiss when it comes to the swings of celebration…” you cooed to him with your wine-stained lips. 

His keen eyes study you…he knows you are feeling tipsy, but so is he…Your eyes stay on his lips as he drinks from his goblet in contemplation; the drink left on his lips quickly licked away from the sharp points of his forked tongue. One of his infernal traits you were never privy to before your time as the Gates savior. Through sheer luck, both your lives still managed to always be intertwined, leading to your friendship blooming further. Rolan’s eyes are slightly cloudy but still that brilliant hue of gold you could make out even in the greatest depths of darkness. 

“Just one kiss, huh? You sure about that, Tav?” - Gods… does his voice get richer by the day? Is it the drink, or has he always been this alluring and downright cocky? 

You place your hand on his knee, feeling the heat that radiates from underneath the cloth of his pants. Your smile is all desire, and your taunts, “Well, unless you beg me for more…” 

Rolan’s smile widens before he looks over his shoulder to see Lia dancing with Karlach and Shadowheart while Cal plays with the braids in Lae’zels hair as she speaks of her last adventure. Rolan turns back to you, his hand coming over yours. He tries to mask his grin but fails horribly. 

“Well, let’s find somewhere more…private perhaps…” 

It’s then you tug his hand, having him follow your swaying trail, as you two make your way to a dark closet located in the back of the tavern…

You practically push him into the isolated room and shut the door behind you; Rolan manages a laugh before he grabs your face and pulls you closer to crash into his soft lips. Rolan guides your body to press against his, and you can’t help but gasp at the seer heat of him; every part feels so good, and his body is so warm. His knee slips between your legs, and he gathers a fist full of your hair in his clawed hands, nothing to hurt but just to feel the want burning through him. While he’s casually adjusting you to straddle his knee, a stray thought crosses your mind, he’s…good at this?

Then his other hand drops down to your hip, and he starts leading you to a slow grind on his knee that makes you gasp from the friction to your wet sex. He’s really good at this? Rolan chuckles slightly before swiping his tongue over your smooth lips. Slipping his tongue through so you finally get a taste of him, your toes curl, and your hands cling to his robes tighter. The sweetest taste you have ever had sends sparks over your taste buds, his tongue expertly gliding over yours to make you feel every motion of him. It tastes so sweet, and you feel your body heat rise, and your nipples perk the more you drink him in. Your body yearns; nothing else matters to you now other than him: to feel, taste, and want him. Your chest starts to burn from the lack of air, but your panties get wetter with your arousal as you grind yourself on him. Feeling his chest vibrate with a groan the more you slowly roll yourself on his leg. 

Rolans forked tongue slips out of your swollen lips, and you whine at the loss. You hear Rolan laugh at you, but you’re too lost in your panting for breath and neediness for more. What’s happening? You have never felt this need for someone else before, but your mind is filled with Rolan and the need to taste him, your need to feel him, to fuck him. This desire burning in you outweighs your need to breathe in your mind; you’re drunk off of him. Through a sliver of light escaping from the closed door cracks, you see a glimmering trail of his saliva connecting your lips to him; it’s too irresistible to resist as you chase to lick more. Your lips crash against his hungrier this time, and Rolan is more than willing to oblige. Bodys melting together, and you’re feeling a sheen of sweat starting to cover your body; you’re hot and needy, and need him now is all your brain can focus on. Rolan leans into you more and pushes you against the wall, your head hitting one of the closet shelves, but you can’t care right now as you feel his forked tongue rubbing against yours, your moans slipping out along with his. His hands find your breast as you find his belt.

“Can…may I?” he asks between breaths, and you’re already a slew of yeses as you’re undoing his pants.   

Rolan doesn’t miss a beat as he’s undoing your shirt as you’re desperate to release his cock. Every part of your body is uncomfortable in your clothes as your cunt aches for him; it’s practically painful how swollen your clit is. You need him fucking you now!  In a cry, you’re trying to get your pants down to feel his fingers, cock, tail, anything! Looking down, you see his arm moving as he pumps his cock for you, fuck, it’s happening! You’re practically in tears from the overwhelming want, and you moan for him, letting him lick and suck against your neck. 

“Rolan?! Has anyone seen Rolan?” -no…

Rolan pauses and groans, lifting his head towards the closed door, “Zurgan… They have the worst timing…” -no, no, no!

Rolan steps back from you and starts helping your reput on yours and his clothes as he adjusts himself back into his pants. “I guess we got a little caught up… but if I don’t get out there, they will start tearing this place apart.” 

Your body is burning, and your stomach feels like it’s sinking. You don’t want him to go…you want him to stay… Rolan turns back to you and presses his forehead to yours, his hand on your cheek. God, his skin touching yours feels so good. Why does it feel so good? 

Roaln leans down and gives you a quick kiss on your lips, “If you… want to try again… or… you know where to find me.” 

With that, Rolan gives you a kind smile and leaves the closet; you hear muffled sounds that might be him grumbling at his siblings… but all you can think about is that sweet taste on your tongue… and how you’re already craving more…

“I knew you would come back…so needy, aren’t you…”

“So needy…” the words come out of your mouth before you can even stop it. What’s happened to you? You feel consumed…

Rolan lifts your legs further up towards your head; the stretch makes you moan before you can stop yourself. Rolan smiles down at you, his golden eyes glimmering like before, and then you feel your mouth start to water as you look at his tongue sliding over his lip…

Rolan’s cock teases your slit, the hot tip tracing over you slowly, leaving his pre cum drooling on you, the feeling of its stickiness making your back arch. You can’t help how your mouth hangs open, your tongue lolling out, begging to taste him again. Rolan’s lips curl into a smirk, 

“You’re addicted, aren’t you? Do you want it? Are you ready?” -fuck yes, you want it! You burn for it!

You can’t bring yourself to say yes, so you nod frantically, slightly whimpering in the process, your hips buckling against his cock, feeling the ridges tease against your soft folds. Rolan can’t keep you in anticipation any longer, so with a roll of his tongue and his lips pressed in a tight seam, he gathers his saliva before leaning down and dropping the wad into your eager mouth. Your tongue catches it, and you let it sit against your tongue for a moment while the sweetness coats your taste buds. Fuck, it’s what you have been craving…

Finally, you swallow and reveal your now empty mouth to him, your nipples harder now, your body sweating, your pussy wetter and quivering with an insatiable need. 

Rolan smiles down at you, “Good girl…” 

He purrs, as his cock ruts faster against you, “Do you feel no shame? Getting off on my spit? So naughty…” 

You’re not sure if it really is his spit or his taunting words, but you’re needing it, burning for it…

“Rolan… Pl- Please…” 

Rolan caresses your cheek, “I know… I know…” 

As he is coming down to you, he starts to slip in the tip very slowly… the feeling of the stretch makes your whole body curl, and Rolan still pours honeyed words into your ear as he sinks deeper…. Though his words get hazier, and your mouth gets thirstier. It’s like you have gone days without water, and as you look up at his concentrated eyes, freckled cheeks, and slightly parted lips, you know that drinking him in is the only way you will ever be satisfied… Your… craving him and his addictive sweet taste….

In a flash, you’re sitting up straight with a groan, your body is in a cold sweat, your throat dry, and your tongue needy. -shit. 

It’s been days of this madness… since you and Rolan had your hot and heavy makeout session, and two things have happened since that day.  You have a wild craving for sweets, having restless, sweat-inducing dreams that have been soaking your sheets, and your thoughts have been filled with him. Part of you wonders if that wizard put a hex on you or…if you’re in love…

With your head in your hands, you roll yourself out of bed and walk over to your nightstand where the jar of candy you bought waits; you had thought that you just needed some sweets, but no matter how much you’re eating, you can’t get this craving, this inch out of you. But it’s not like you can say anything or ask anyone about this new development! Especially Rolan, Rolan is a busy man… with lots of responsibility. You can’t be bothering him with your girlish fantasy of him or humiliate yourself by asking if he did something… not that he would have? Rolans is not the type, but then why? Why the hell does he taste so sweet? And why can’t you stop thinking about it?!

Whatever, you can’t focus on this now. You have to meet up with Lae’zel, Karlach, Wyll, and Astarion for tonight’s job, and you know better than to keep your companions waiting…  

Everything has gone off mainly without a hitch; your cravings are still driving you mad and proving even while you are fighting to still be in your thoughts. During your fight, you find yourself more hot-blooded and restless to get your opponent down and broken; you’re unsure if the craving is to blame… but with how restless and irritated you have been, you wouldn’t doubt it. Now, here you sit by the fire surrounded by your companions, still trying to relax… but you’re finding it impossible! Your body is fidgeting, your blood boiling as you suck and roll your tongue on the hard candy like a vise like it’s finally going to help you get over this craving for that haughty wizard.

Astarion must sense your distress because before you know it, he is sliding up to your side with an insolent smirk, “Evening, love. Is everything alright? You seem… shaky?” 

You roll your eyes and bounce your foot, trying to ignore his question. Karlach is next to go to your aid, though where Astarion is taunting you, having his own ideas about what is driving you mad, Karlach is actually full of concern. 

“I have noticed that too, Tav; you seem out? Soldier, is something going on?” 

You wave your hand, trying to brush them off. “Nothing, nothing. I just… haven’t been able to rest well like I have wanted… but hopefully, I will get over it soon…”

Wyll chimes in next with sympathetic eyes, “What seems to be the issue? Bad dreams?” 

You grimace… more like wet ones…. You look up to your friends, who are anxiously awaiting your response. What could you even say?

“I, it’s complicated… I don’t even fully understand it myself.”

“Well, why not pull the ears of your friends? No matter what it is, we will try to understand and try to help you in any way we can!” Oh, well… always so optimistic…

You look to your companions whose eager faces look at you bathed in the golden fire light… you have known them for a while now and have been through a life-or-death scenario together… why not tell them about your plaguing horny thoughts… okay maybe not everything, but definitely not the full detail.  

“Well, have you ever… craved something?” They all look at each other, confused. 

Astrion laughs, “Cravings? And what is that supposed to mean? You’re hungry? I can’t say I haven’t had a desperate craving before… but what are you craving exactly?” 

Rolans forked tongue in your mouth, sliding against yours while his nails tear your clothes open, devouring you, body and soul… oh Gods…

“Uhhhh… just… something sweet…”

Lae’zel tsk, finally contributing to the conversation, “This is stupid; just eat something sweet.” 

“That… hasn’t been working. It’s a specific sweet…” As you think about it, you feel your mouth filling with saliva that you’re quick to swallow back down. If they knew…. If anyone did… 

Karlach tilts her head, “Like from a shop? Can’t you go and buy it?” 

The image of you giving Rolan a piece of gold to spit in your mouth fills your mind, and you shrivel into yourself. Why are you thinking like this! 

“No! I…. this is so embarrassing…” 

Astarion and Karlach look at each other and smile. “What are you craving, Tav?” they say in unison…

“I think it’s more… who are you craving Tav…” Lae’zel cuts in with a rare smile of her own. 

Wyll gasped, and the other two bounced excitedly at the accusation, and you? You are visibly sweating bullets… but you can’t deny it much longer… 

“Is that even possible to… crave someone? Their taste? Their smell?” your thighs tighten at the thought of Rolan sandalwood and paper sent with the lights hint of musk… fuck you want to drown in it… “their touch?” you say with a shiver…

You look up at the four pairs of eyes, looking at you intently with slight blushes on their faces. With a smirk, Astarion waves his hand toward you. “No, no, don’t pause… please continue, darling…” Astarion teases. 

You throw your head in your hands, ‘I can’t believe I’m confessing to this… I just don’t know what to do? The hunger is getting worse! The dreams are getting more real…” 

Karlach leans in, “Ohhh, there’s dreams? Tell us more…” 

You shake your head in disapproval, “No, I’m already embarrassed; you don’t need to know more…” 

Wyll says, “This might be off limits, but… who is it? Maybe if we knew we could give you some advice? A plan!”

They all agree in unison. Part of you wants to tell them it’s Rolan, but… though you don’t mind the teasing, you’re unsure if Rolan could handle it… and you don’t want to put him on the spot. Gods knows, as soon as Karlach and Wyll find out it’s Rolan, they will be planning your spring wedding… 

“I…-” 

“I know who it is…” lae’zel says casually, catching everyone by surprise. 

You look at her with wide eyes… every perspective… of course, she would have found out…or maybe she saw you two? 

Karlach, supposedly catching your inner turmoil, places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “You don’t have to tell us who if you’re not ready, but I think that whoever this is has done a number on you,” 

Astarion chimes in, “This is true. You have been sucking on those sweets like your life depends on it. If this person is so delicious, I think you go and get yourself another taste…” 

Karlach agrees, “Maybe you will find they have been craving you just as much!” 

Wyll adds, “It could be romantic, confessing your want, getting vulnerable to them. And if they don’t reciprocate for some reason, we can all go out and find you something way more satisfying.” Wyll gives you a wink, making you laugh. 

Then your eyes go to Lae’zel, who is just looking at you with a smirk. You give her a look, and he just laughs, “I don’t think she needs to worry about unreciprocated affections… though… I could be wrong….” 

Uhhggg, lae’zel has been with Cal too much; she is picking up on his teasing… 

It’s funny how desire can so easily cloud the mind. Now, here you are… going against your better judgment and giving in to the temptation to at least see him again. Part of you thought that seeing him would ease the carving..... but you knew deep down that it wouldn’t, so the torture continues.

Rolan hasn’t noticed you walk in, or if he has, he’s too involved in his work to look up from his sales book to greet you. Not that he has to; despite how much you enjoy looking into his brilliant eyes, there is something about. watching him in his own little world, however. Seeing him so concentrated, writing diligently with what you are sure is immaculate handwriting. In his focused state, you observe that he has a habit of chewing the inside of his cheek, forcing his lips to perk as his mind is elsewhere.

As you watch, familiar feelings boil forth, and so do familiar cravings....

The urge to go and just touch him, to feel his warmth again. You want to grab him from behind and, bury your head in between his shoulder blades and breathe in as much of him as you can, letting your senses be overflowed with him. You want to hear his nervous laugh, feel him hold you back, and feel his breath against your skin..... To watch his tongue move as he talks…

A rush of heat grips your body, causing you to pause and shiver in want. Tingling rushes through your skin, and your saliva starts to pool, the desire..... the craving... the addiction. Perhaps coming here won’t dull your hunger but worsen it…

Quickly, you retrieve a piece of candy from your pocket to dull it—just chew and leave. As you head for the exit, you can’t help the part of you that needs another look. Turning, you see Rolan taking a drink. As he lowers his cup, a small droplet of liquid lingers on his lips, quickly licked away by the tips of his forked tongue…That tongue... his taste. You want him. No, you need him!

Your body is reacting before your mind can fully process. You’re walking towards him. When you’re finally noticed, Rolan seems surprised to see you, but the smile starting

to form on his lips is unmistakable. However, as soon as you grab a handful of his robes and drag him off, his smile falls into furrowed confusion as he tries to ask what you’re doing. Rolans. Words, however, fall on deaf ears because the only thing you can hear is the sound of your racing heart....

With Rolan in a firm grasp, you drag him up the staircase and through the portal, the need to be alone with him completely overtaking your mind. Once you two are alone in the tower, you finally let go of Rolan’s clothes. Rolan looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind... you feel as if you truly have. Rolan studies you briefly before his confusion hits an irritating peak, “What’s wrong.. Why are you-”

“What did you do to me !?”

Rolan’s head jerks back from your louder, more cutting question.

“What? Excuse me! I haven’t done anything?”

Even When he’s irritated, he’s irresistible! You just want to grab him and kiss him, but now you two are on the verge of another argument; it feels like back when you were on the road running into him over and over ... Can you be honest? Can you tell him that you genuinely don’t want to fight but want to be wrapped in his arms? Not only do you crave for his taste you crave to feel affection from him?

Rolan steps closer, studying you, his golden, ardent eyes tracing over your fevered body. You know you must look like a wreck right now, but it can’t be helped. You want to just collide into his embrace and  tremble within his arms, 

“What’s going on? Why are you dragging me from the shop and throwing accusations at me!”

What can you even say? I think you put some crazy spell on me to make me crazy for you? Now that you think about it more, Rolan wouldn’t do that… is this just your feelings coming to fruition after finally getting to kiss him? AHH! The uncertainty is driving you mad! You suck on the candy more to help, but it’s not working…

Your eyes are locked with his lips, and you know it’s time to just confess, “I’m…. Craving you… my mind has been consumed with thoughts of you. I don’t know if this is a spell or a curse, but… I can’t get the thought of your taste out of my mind… my thoughts that have stirred with you have become more potent… more lustful. I have a desire for you that not even the sweetest of candies can satiate…” 

You look back up from your speech to see Rolan’s eyes now as wide. 

“Craving me… what have you been craving exactly?”

You bite your lip, “Your tongue… dripping spit into my mouth… while you rut into me…” 

As soon as you say it, you feel your whole body catch on fire; at least, that’s how it feels. You’re so embarrassed and can’t believe you just admitted it! Turning to hide your shame, you feel yourself wanting to run, but two arms wrap around you before you can take the first step.

The warmth… the feel of his body… his smell… Rolan…

 You fight the urge to lean into him… but fail. 

Rolan’s lips come to your ear, “I am so sorry… but then again, if I’m being honest, I’m also not…” 

You’re confused by his comment, “Wha-“

“My infernal heritage… is related to incubus… so it doesn’t happen often, but… if I really like  someone… my saliva… turns into an aphrodisiac… usually the effects are not so potent, but… the more you like me in turn,… the more the want lingers…” 

Rolan pulls you against him closer, his voice whispered and laced with seduction, “You must really want me, Tav…”

You’re trying to muster up any kind of words, but nothing seems right… You do want him… so much it’s consuming you! A hummed yes is all you can muster as your face flushes further. Rolan, pleased by your bashful hum, gently turns to you; his long fingers caress your jaw and tilt it so you’re forced to be further entranced by him. Gods… you just want to  

“You have to ask me.” 

It’s not rare for Rolan to have a slight smirk and a cocky attitude… but his confidence right now is… making you hot.

Rolan leans into you further, “Ask me to help you… to kiss you… to take you…” Rolan’s grin shows his sharp teeth off, making your insides scream. “You didn’t get this clammed up at the tavern… you nervous?” 

More impatient. 

“Rolan, help me in every way you can.” 

“By?” his breath fans over your lips, so mouth-watering close as you faintly taste his breath.

“Kissing me, t-taking me…till this burning ache subsides… then, do it all over again and again.” 

Rolan laughs, “Well, greedy aren’t you?” 

You want to push him and argue back, but you pull him closer by his shirt, “Please, this craving… it’s borderline painful, you ass…” 

Satisfied, Rolan finally eases your ache by pressing his firm lips to yours. As you feel his lips on yours, the blood rushes in your veins, feeling like a rushing wave of a refreshing excited ocean. Feeling your body shiver, Rolan tightens his grip, causing his nails to bite into your soft skin; it only proves to excite you more. Rolan’s nostrils flare as he smells your arousal, ruining your panties, and he can’t hold it back anymore; his own cravings for you are starting to consume him. Rolan parts your decadent lips with his tongue, and you finally get that taste as his tongue softly dances against yours. It’s oh so sweet taste that maddeningly sets your whole body aflame. 

Your tongue eagerly slides against his as you take in as much of his taste as you can. Hands digging into him, a small part of you scared that if you let go, he would disappear, and this would all be another one of your dreams. Roalns lips smile against yours at your clinging parting. He wants to tease you for soft whines, but he eases you with his hand on your cheek. Muttering a quick incantation, you can hardly hear from your buzzing ears, he suddenly snaps his fingers, and a portal appears behind you. You feel the whirling buzz of its magic, but your eyes stay on his. Rolan’s lips find yours again effortlessly, and his large hands rest on your hips as he gently guides you back. You two don’t part from each other until the sensation of you falling back onto a soft mattress startles you. 

Looking around, you see elaborate drapes and long curtains all around the room, paired with the soft glow of candles. Books in tall piles and other immaculate things tell you you’re in his room. You look at him with an excited grin, and that’s when you are met with his golden eyes racking over you as he undoes his collar. Your eyes drink in every inch of his rose-colored skin as he strips down for you. Your eyes trace over the raised arches that decorate his body; as his shirt drops to the floor, you watch as his hands go over his abs to start working the buckle and laces of his pants. Every movement he makes causes your heart to race further. 

Watching your thighs tighten, and your mouth water, Rolan relishes in your want; with a smile showing off his sharp teeth, he nods his head toward you.  

“Strip” 

With a swallow, you nod eagerly and start undoing your shirt as Rolan watches in silent excitement. With your shirt off, you quickly kick off your pants, and before you can roll down your underwear, Rolan’s voice pauses you.

“Spread your legs,” he says cooly, almost casually.

Why is he so good at this? Just like in the Elf Song, what you thought was a nerdy wizard is proving to be way more suave, than you thought…. And you love every moment of it…

All the blood in your body rushes to your face and to your clit; you think you’re already seeing stars, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Moving your hands away from your underwear, you lounge back on your elbows and spread your legs. Rolan’s pupils as he looks at the wet spot seeping through the thin fabric. He can’t help himself anymore, and in an instant, he is in between your legs, driving his nose into your clothed cunt. His heat on you makes your legs quiver, and a whine rips from your throat as he sniffs and takes you in; then, you feel his tongue, and you let out a scream. 

Rolan’s tongue slides against the cloth, forcing the material to rub against your sensitive skin, making your hips want to roll and grind against him. The teasing is making your blood boil with need, and then pushing you further to the edge, his tongue finds your swollen clit, and he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You tighten your thighs around his head as you chant his name, feeling your slit quiver with need. Though before you can start to beg, you feel Rolan pulling away with your panties between his lips. With a quick movement, Rolan rips your panties off, leaving the delicate material draping from his teeth. The sight and sudden cold air make you moan and spread your legs wider. You’re done waiting. You need him.

Quickly discarding the rest of your underwear, your eyes meet his completely nude for now. Rolans once confident demeanor seems to have slightly faltered as he looks down at you. Painties are gone from his teeth, and he looks at you as if you were a goddess coming down to bless him with unimaginable cardinal pleasure. Rolan drops his underwear down to his ankles. He quickly kicks away before crawling on top of you. 

Rolan lips stay on yours as he slowly runs his hands down your body, sliding his warm hands from the soft mounds of your breast to tracing your sides with his nails, causing your body to arch closer to him. His hand slips to your hips to your thigh, where he carefully brings one of your legs up to spread you wider and wrap around his hips. Your heart races at the feeling of being so exposed and feeling his heat so close to your core. You would beg for him to finally ease your ache by fucking you. If you weren’t so busy with his tongue in your mouth, you’re not willing to stop licking up that addictive taste right from the source.  

Rolan, though, has to break away for a breath, and as you two pant over each other, looking into each other’s blown-out eyes, you can’t help but feel complete bliss. His smile is charming and tender as he leans down to give you a chaste kiss. “Are you sure you want this?” 

You groan in frustration, “Please don’t make me beg!”

Rolan rests his forehead against yours, silencing you.

“No, no begging. I just want to make sure this is more than lust..” 

“I have always liked you…even when we didn’t get along, I have always been ensnared by you. Your kiss just made me need to show you” 

Rolan smiles, and you feel him getting warmer and his cheeks a shade redder, “Good…”   

Rolan against his hips and thanks when you feel his rigged length sliding open your smooth folds. The head alone burns you as it splits you open; as he sinks in deeper, your toes curl further. Rolan does his best to go slow, but the urge to slam into you is wanting to overtake him. But with how your body twitches and your face contorts with every inch of his cock sinking into you. He knows he has to stretch you open slowly, so to help ease you, Rolan licks his thumb before he brings it down to your clit and rolls slow circles. You preen and throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. He eagerly nuzzles into it, leaving kisses and soft bites in his wake. 

Rolan buckles his hips into your fluttering cunt, groaning and growling at how your body sucks and clamps down on his girth in an insatiable need. With another roll of his hips, he sinks down all the way, his warm tip nudging on your g stop so deep it makes your eyes roll and your voice to cry his name in a broken moan. Rolan licks against your neck, his sweet saliva seeming to tingle your skin at the contact. He hums against you, 

“Gods, I’ve been waiting for this, to feel your dripping cunt around me, so soft and greedy for it.”

Rolan rolls his hips, pulling to the tip before forcing back into you in a mind-numbing rush, “All mine…” 

Rolan continues to rut his hips in and out, every ridge catching against your sensitive flesh, feeling exquisite as you can’t help but let out shuddering moans as Rolan’s cock rams against your insides. Your mouth falls open as you stare at Rolan’s lidded eyes, your breath heavy, and your hands desperately clinging to his back as you are fucked on his cock, bouncing up and down on his length at a building pace. 

“Please….” you say breathlessly, making Rolan smile as he approaches your face. 

“Please, what?” he says with a rough roll that makes your legs shake. You can’t find the words. All you can do is loll out your tongue in a whine, hoping Rolan is smart enough to understand. 

Rolan grins at your silent plea, “You sure?”

You whine at the taunt, but you’re addicted. You need it, so you eagerly nod, keeping your mouth open for him. Rolan rolls his hips slower as his eyes watch yours, completely dilated with lust; with a nod of his head, you know he’s ready, and with a parting of his lips, you’re catching his sweet spit and swallowing eagerly, relishing in how it instantly makes your body more sensitive to everything your feeling. Rolan groans as you clamp down on him, and your body grows hotter. He picks up his pace, wrapping his tail tightly around your other leg and pulling you down onto his with every thrust. 

Rolan buries his head into the side of your neck once more, his lips on your sweating neck as his breath is the only thing to cool your body in this heated passion, “fuck…so soft…tight, ah and mine…” 

Rolan’s teeth slide along your skin as he thrusts in tandem with his growls of, “Mine, mine, Mine!”

All you can do is hold on and moan your yeses; you’re his, you have always been his, and you always will be. 

His nails dig into you, and his words slip to that of infernal as he continues to build you to that peak. Your pussy clamps down on him harder, making him whine and furrow his brows as his hips start to lose their rhythm to now reckless abandon. It’s all so hot and consuming, you are completely his, and all you can think of now is the man ramming into you and how his cock is consistently ramming on your sweet spot. Finally, you wrap your legs around his hips and bury your hands into his soft hair, softly pulling as you hold on; it’s enough to bring him to his peak, and as he bites down on your neck, feeling your hot blood against his teeth dripping onto his tongue your screaming his name as you clamp and squirt on his cock. 

Rolan’s nostrils flare at the smell of your sweet release covering his cock and thighs, and he groans into your neck as he continues to rut like a desperate madman. The feeling of his cock on your sensitive skin as you writhing around in overstimulation. But Rolan just growls, and he pins you down in a strength you have never been privy to, And finally, you feel his burning cock twitch. As Rolan stills, you feel his hot cum flooding inside of you, it feels so overwhelming, and your body shakes as the feeling of being so full of him makes every part of you aflame, and you can’t help in relishing in the feeling of wanting him to burn you like this always. 

After a moment, Rolan releases his mouth from your neck in a soft, whispered sorry. You are so fucked out of your mind you can only mutter something along the lines of an “Okay…” 

As Rolan pulls out, you let out a whine as he slips from your used sex. You lean up to give Rolan a smile and perhaps some praise, and as you do, you see Rolan’s luminescent eyes glued to your sex. Rolan watches as his seed drools out; Rolan groans as he takes his thumb and gathers the mixing of both your releases on his digit and brings it to his mouth, licking it up and moaning at the taste. Your breath catches at the sight, and before you can say anything, your legs are spread and hooked over Rolans shoulders. His breath is so desperate as he watches your glistening sex drool. 

You bite your lip and raise your hips closer to his waiting mouth; Rolan moans before his eyes flicking to yours, “It’s all yours…” 

Rolan smiles as he licks a long strip up your sex, gathering the taste on his tongue. It only spurs him on more, and as he keeps eating both your releases from within you, moaning and purring as his tongue slips in and out. You squirm as your second high fastly approaches, but Rolan only responds to your whines by digging his nails into your ass to help you grind on his face as you hold on his horns like a lifeline. 

It all reaches a peak as you’re cumming in a blinding passion, as Rolan drinks and slurps it all from you till there’s nothing left and your voice is raw. Rolan leans back up and licks his lips. 

“I think I’m going to be the one who is addicted to your sweet taste…” 

All you can do is laugh as he comes up, and again so, he’s holding you closely to his chest.

“I think we are just addicted to each other…”  

Rolan smiles as he buries his nose into your hair, holding you even tighter, “I think you’re right.”

[barefoothighlander]

could you do ghost being with someone on the team who’s just so innocent and naive it makes him wonder why they chose the job she has, like her callsign is angel, she puts her hair in braids when she’s allowed to, she puts little bows in her hair sometimes, she’s respectful etc

of course :) here's a quick little drabble I hope it fits what you had in mind

warnings: fluff, description of violence, mention of alcohol, mention of blood

The team got called in around midnight, everyone making their way to the base as quickly as possible, Ghost and you got there around 12:13, your appearances as a stark contrast to each other. He's drenched in black, face hidden from prying eyes behind the skull, looming and feared, you, on the other hand, showed up with your hair pulled back into french braids that ended in small buns behind your ears, a tank top covering your chest that had a small bow sitting between your breasts.

The two of you made your way into the conference room, Ghost finding his usual spot on the back wall while you greeted the team.

"G'mornin Angel" Soap greets, purposely avoiding Ghost's glare while he shamelessly eyes your form, "Little frilly for the field no?" He says pointing toward your top, you playfully push at his shoulder as you find your seats.

Price had given your mission assignments, a small hideout in the States was housing illegal weapons and you had to reclaim them.

You changed into your tactical gear and got into the plane, sitting between Ghost and Soap, fortunately, Soap liked to talk so the ride went quickly, the two of you chatting about your home life, Soap had recently gotten a dog and you were completely jealous, Simon designating your home pet free for the time being.

You landed and got started on the mission, following as Ghost took lead, clearing the building without a hitch while you followed behind, shooting down anyone in your sights. There were a few more enemies than you expected, having to use your knife on a few, effectively covering your gear in blood.

You completed the mission, boarding back onto the plane to return home, Ghost stares at you, the spatter of blood covering your soft cheek, it always confused him, why you decided to join the force, you were so soft, delicate when you were with him, he trusted your capability in the field, your skill saving his life a few times, but off the field, you wouldn't hurt a fly.

Touching down on base you decide to take a shower before going home, not wanting the dirt and blood on you to stain or transfer onto anything. You step out a few minutes later noticing Ghost sitting on one of the benches in the locker room.

"You know you can't be in here"

"Wanted to make sure you were okay"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs, turning and handing you a bag of clothes, you grab it and begin dressing yourself, brightly coloured sweats tugged onto your body before you cover your chest with a lace-trimmed tank top.

"That's why"

You furrow your brows in question.

"You're just very, innocent"

"Innocent?"

"I've seen you take out a room of men without breaking a sweat yet when we're home, everything is daisies and bows, it confuses me how you can be so kind and warm with a job like this"

You think about his words,

"It confuses me how somehow as nice as you would want to be with someone like me"

"Simon,"

You move forward to hold his face in your hands, a soft smile on your face, "My job is bloody and violent, and that's exactly why I am the way I am, it's nice to be - what'd you call it? Soft - it lets me forget about all the horrible things out in the world"

You reach down to kiss him, "And in regards to you, you aren't a dark person, you're thoughtful, generous, funny" You emphasize each word with a kiss.

"I just don't want them to take advantage of you," He says

"I doubt they'll even try when you're five feet away from me"

He huffs a laugh before the two of you make your way into the hall, greeted by the rest of the 141

"We're all going to the pub, care to join lovebirds"

Ghost grimaces at Soaps term,

"Of course," You say

You spend a few hours in the bar, the men all sipping on variations of whiskey while you sit with some fruity concoction between your hands.

"So what's with the bows," Soap asks, his words slurred

A small huh comes from you,

He gestures his hand in your direction, "Last week, you showed up with wee bows in your hair"

"Oh, um, I just thought they looked nice," You say suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

"They were cute lass"

A small smile creeps onto your face, "Well thank you"

"Can't have them in the field" Price says

"Of course Captain" You nod at him, trying to be serious but a small fit of giggles overtakes you, your laughter transferring to Soap and Gaz as they start laughing.

"I'm serious, your callsign might be Angel but you can't be skipping around on a mission"

You nod at him, feeling Ghost's hand on the small of your back while he leans into you,

"I think it's time we head home," He says, turning to look at the team now getting tired, you nod at him.

"We're gonna head out, see you all tomorrow" Your words are met with boos from Soap and Gaz,

"C'mon lass we've barely started"

"Johnny you're half asleep"

"Am not LT"

You giggle at the exchange, Ghost's arm snaking around your waist before pulling you out,

"G'night Angel!" Soap yells and Ghost lets a small grunt leave his mouth,

"Be nice Simon"

"I'll knock that stupid haircut off his head if he keeps flirting with you"

You laugh at his words, resting your head against his form while the two of you make your way home.

[sebastianswallows]

Nobody's Darling — 5. The Morning

— PAIRING: Benny Cross x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel.

— WARNINGS: just fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

— TAGGING: @confessionbrain-writings @fleurdemers

— A/N: Continuation of Part 4.

She was sleeping. Then at one point she became aware that she was sleeping. Her body was pleasantly sore, her feet a little swollen but cooled by the morning air that slipped into the room, and beneath her was the softest, warmest blanket — only, as she slowly woke she realised it wasn’t a blanket. Her eyes opened to the bleary morning light and the sight of honeyed flesh. Oh… She wanted to get up but her back still ached, and as soon as she braced her arm against the mattress she remembered why she’d opted to sleep on top of Benny instead. The springs squeaked painfully loud.

“Mmmmh… G’mornin’,” he muttered, breathing in and stretching his long body.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry,” she muttered, blushing as the events of last night came back to her.

“No, don’t worry,” he sighed, wrapping an arm more around her shoulder and pulling her back down on top of him. “Sleep well?”

“I think so…”

Benny looked down at her, his eyes quickly losing the haziness of sleep and finally gaining some focus. “You alright?” he asked, his voice sounding fearful of the answer.

“Yeah… Yeah.”

He said nothing, instead merely rubbing his thumb against her shoulder in a way meant to soothe her — or perhaps himself. The timid chirping of the birds outside and the gusts of wind were a stark backdrop to how sad he seemed.

She almost felt sorry for him. He’d been so happy when they went to sleep together, or if not happy… something. It was difficult to remember now between the high waves of her pleasure crashing down, distorting memories, sensations, time itself. Perhaps he thought she’d be the same person when she woke up as the one he knew last night, or maybe he’d forgotten who he invited to his bed, or maybe… Maybe it was useless to wonder what he thought. And she certainly didn’t have the courage to ask in what manner precisely she’d disappointed him in the few minutes they were both awake.

“I should, erm, get up,” she said.

“Yeah. Sure.”

She looked down at the two of them, covered in the meagre blanket grey with stains, and underneath she felt his naked body moving along hers. Strong legs, narrow hips, the softness of his muscled arm behind her… She lay cradled in his embrace and cuddling with him was like sleeping with a radiator. It made her want to fall asleep all over again, and Benny certainly made no move to leave. She blushed and didn’t know whether to get up quickly or take the time to find something first to cover herself with, but as her body slowly woke and caught up with her mind she realised she didn’t really want to go. She felt comfortable and safe, and the thought of returning to her white and cold apartment, to her boring job filled with meaningless little problems every day, and urgent issues, and measly internal politics, made her sick to her stomach. Benny heard her sigh and laid his broad palm flat over her shoulder, and then she felt him nuzzle his face into her hair.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked. He must’ve thought she was upset with him…

“I just don’t feel…”

“How?”

“Like leaving.”

She could tell his body stilled as he thought through what she said. He must’ve doubted her, or himself, because it took a while for him to speak again.

“Want me to go to your room and fetch your clothes?”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, maybe you should,” she chuckled, “but that’s not what I meant.”

“Feeling real’ comfy in this dusty ol’ motel room, are you?” he chuckled.

“Hmm… no. It’s horrible,” she laughed. “It’s probably the worst bed I’ve ever slept in… And the best.”

He turned his head to look at her, to catch her eyes and figure out what she meant, but she only buried her face deeper into his chest.

“Is that right…?” he asked.

“It is,” she mumbled.

“You mean it?” he asked after a few moments. “You really mean it, doll?”

She nodded, her damp cheek rubbing against his skin. It was as if his body melted, covering hers even more, and then he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and the only thing she could do was wrap her arms more tightly around his waist, and curl her leg around his, and let her body sink into the warmth he made for her beneath those threadbare sheets.

Thoughts kept coming back about what happened the night before and how it made her feel. How it shattered her to her core — not necessarily to have a man there with her, naked, with her exposed and vulnerable beneath a bulk of sweaty skin and bulging muscles, but to be with someone who looked at her and really saw her, and liked every little part, even those she’d never considered showing. And then he kissed her, and loved her, and held her, and loved her still in the morning after the flush of passion had long passed.

Benny, meanwhile, kept thinking of what she said. He’d fully expected her to get up and leave as quickly and discretely as possible like he was some mangy mutt she might catch fleas from. He didn’t like it, but he’d expected it, and already had prepared a little corner of his heart to bury that night in. And then she went and turned everything upside down and now he had to hold himself back from going a mile too far and asking her to stay with him forever. She was timid, sure, just like he could be sometimes, but he too easily mistook that for disdain and it didn’t help that she kept hiding her face away from him when he most wanted to see it, to read in her eyes what it was she really thought.

He gently grabbed her chin and eased her face upwards. Her forehead was still a little damp with sweat, her lashes matted, and her cheeks were framed by the wild mane of her hair, but those were the same eyes that had looked at him last night with wonder and with love. He bent to press his lips against hers in a little kiss.

“Want me to fetch you breakfast?” he asked, partly to distract himself from the speed his thoughts were driving at. “I’ll go downstairs and get something…”

“Won’t you eat breakfast too?”

“Ah, I’m… not hungry,” he said, his elbows already braced against the bed as he heaved himself up. “Not really used to it.”

“You mean you don’t — Of course you don’t have breakfast,” she sighed, shaking her head like a disapproving mother. “Well, you’re having it today.”

He rolled his eyes but would’ve lied if he said it didn’t make something warm and soft flutter in his stomach.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pressed another kiss to her temple, and then he hopped off the bed with more energy than he usually had at that hour.

She curled up and held the pillow to her chest, partly to cover herself, partly to have his warmth and scent about her a little longer, and looked over her shoulder as he bent for his briefs and socks and the rest of his clothes. Her face heated up again as she traced the length and breadth of his back, the muscles bulging in his thighs, and the soft golden hairs sprinkled across that smooth young skin. When her gaze caught the blushing bulge of his sac hanging soft and silky beneath his sculpted ass she buried her face into the sweet-smelling pillow with a moan.

“Damn, it’s eight thirty-five, can you believe it?” he said as he put his watch back on.

“It’s… what!? Oh no! I have work at nine! I…” She’d never make it home and to the office in time.

Benny had just finished looping his belt around, but that sad and worried look was back in his eyes. “Want me to take you back?” he quietly asked.

She held the blanket around her as she sat up in the bed, one hand trying distractedly to untangle her ruffled hair. She looked at him, standing there all still and quiet, waiting for her, then around them at the room as if she could find an answer among the crooked furniture, the sunken cushions of the armchair, the tilted framed photos on the wall, the bathroom door that wouldn’t close, all of it bathed in an uneven light with the carefree song of birds and lazy traffic seeping from outside. It was, in every way, a beautiful morning.

“No,” she said at last, her voice sounding calmer than it should have.

She looked up at Benny, his fingers slowly fiddling with his white tank top, looking in many ways like a little boy waiting to be kicked out of his parents’ bedroom. She couldn’t place what she felt at the sight of him, this mix of strength and frailty. She wanted to protect him and get lost in his strong arms again, and the more she thought about both options the more distant the prospect of going back to work became.

“No, let’s have breakfast,” she said with a faint smile.

He eyed her warily as if he didn’t expect this change of priorities to last, but he put on the tank top and got his wallet before she could change her mind.

She didn’t even want to think of how it must’ve looked downstairs when he got there half-dressed to fetch breakfast for two, but as she buried her face in the pillow again the shame bloomed into something sweet at the pit of her tummy. She eventually managed to roll out of bed and dress herself in yesterday’s slip, by now wrinkled and stained, but the brief reflections she caught of herself in the dark glass of the windows made her feel more sexy than ever.

“I’m back, darlin’,” he said as he walked through the door backwards, an old silver plate in his arms. “A full gourmet breakfast.”

“Anything is fine,” she chuckled as she took it from his arms to lay it on the bed. “I’m not fussy.”

“Yeah, well, you deserve to be.”

Once her arms were free, she got up on her tiptoes and wrapped him in a loose embrace. Out of some primordial instinct, he had his arms around her waist that very second and leaned down for a kiss. His lips were sweet and salty with an aftertaste of yesterday’s cigarettes and she couldn’t think of anything that tasted better. His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her up a little, while the other went up to cup her head, fingers tangling in the hair she’d barely managed to tame.

“You sure you want to stay?” he warmly asked, and this time he seemed less scared of what her answer would be.

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“What about your work?”

“If they fire me for missing one day, well…”

“Yeah, screw ‘em.”

“Exactly.”

“So what do you wanna do today, then?”

She looked up into his eyes, and her first instinct was to wonder what he thought. What did he want to do? What did he usually do? And what answer did he expect when he —

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he added, cutting her thoughts short. “I asked you ‘cause I wanna know.”

A big smile threatened to bloom on her face, just from the notion that he cared for something as small as her whims. After all, she never cared a great deal about what she felt like doing from one moment to the next. Those impulses came and went, and she usually had better things to do than what she felt like doing. But he struck her as the sort of person who placed great value on his impulses — and, seemingly now, on hers as well. She bit her lip to temper the warm and pleasant feeling.

“Well… I want to eat this breakfast with you,” she started.

“Mhm…”

“And then I want to take a nice, hot shower…”

“So then, you can’t do that here,” he chuckled. “Maybe back in your room.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do it in my room either.”

“What was it you said? Not fussy, are you?”

“And I thought you said that I deserve to be,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“That’s right,” Benny purred, leaning down to kiss her again.

The coffee cooled on the bed beside them, butter melted on the toast, and the scant jam he’d dug up in one of Tex’s drawers was starting to slide right off. They kissed as if nothing was around them, and neither the scent of breakfast nor the singing birds outside could pull them from the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

“Come home with me,” she whispered against his lips. “You don’t have to stay for long if you don’t want…”

“You sure,” he asked, rubbing a thumb against her cheekbone. “I don’t wanna be a pest.”

“You’re not a pest. You rescued me.”

“That’s just cause you were pretty,” he grinned.

“I don’t think so,” she said with an easy smile. “You didn’t see what I looked like when you started slowing down. I think you’d have stopped for just about anybody.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, swaying her gently in his arms. “But I’m glad that it was you.”

She threaded her fingers gently through his hair, the soft strand sliding through like honey, like sunlight, like golden threads in the most delicate tapestry.

“Come home with me,” she asked again. “Don’t say no. Unless… unless you don’t really want to.”

“Oh, I want to,” he sighed, tightening his arms around her with a possessiveness that frightened her in the best possible way. “Just… tell me when you want me to leave.”

“I’ll tell you right now,” she grinned. “Never.”

[monotonesmile]

Jaime Reyes x reader

Like the story can be like Jaime trying to surprise his girlfriend, the reader on their anniversary

Mission Failed…Successfully?

Jaime Reyes X Fem!Reader

[Word Count: 1,428]

——————————————————

Jaime is doing his best to cook his girlfriend’s favorite meal but he’s never been the best cook, despite his mother trying to help him. He’s in a mild panic, he wants their anniversary to be perfect because he loves his girlfriend a lot, but the damn bug on his back is continuing to make his life hell by just straight up insulting his capabilities to not only cook but also as a boyfriend, well, “mate” as Khaji-Da calls them.

“You are horrible at this, Jaime Reyes,” Khaji-Da states bluntly from within his mind, once again insulting the boy. “You have an hour before your mate arrives and you have accomplished nothing in the day you’ve had to prepare.”

Jaime groans at Khaji-Da’s words, tossing another failed attempt at the dish into the trash, his hair is a mess and his hoodie is covered in stains, plus, the kitchen is a mess due to his many failed attempts at cooking. He sits down in one of the kitchen chairs, head in his hands, he just wants this day to be perfect but he’s failed at that too.

“You’re an asshole, Khaji-Da…” Jaime mutters into his hands before running a hand through his hair as he slouches down in the chair, what does he do now? She’ll be here in an hour, less than an hour now, and he’s a mess.

“Get up, why are you just giving up now? Find something else your mate enjoys.” Khaji-Da encourages from within his mind, he doubts she just enjoys food, Jaime just has to try and think of something else she’ll enjoy.

“What else?” Jaime murmurs to himself, going over ideas in his head. So cooking something is out of the question, so maybe they can go out to eat? It’d be a bit more expensive but it should work, maybe they can watch a movie afterwards too! Just where do they go out to eat and what movie should they watch?

“Your mate enjoys that cafe downtown, take her there, Jaime Reyes.” Khaji-Da suggests with a very obvious amount of annoyance in his tone, mainly because he can’t believe Jaime forgot such simple things about his own girlfriend.

How in the world did he forget that? Well, at least he has a somewhat decent plan, take her to the little cafe downtown, then come home and watch a movie! It’s not as perfect as he would like, which does hurt slightly, because he doesn’t know how she’ll feel about this, but it’s the best thing he’s got. Now he just needs to get ready…mainly taking a shower and getting a new shirt.

“Right…my clothes.” Jaime mutters, looking down at his stained hoodie and shirt. He will have to take a shower before she arrives at his house, then he can freshen up and hopefully look a little better than he does now when they go out.

He sighs, getting up from the chair, grimacing at the mess that’s in the kitchen before slowly walking out of the kitchen, he’ll clean up later, he has a date.

————————————————

Jaime is drying his hair with a towel after his shower, in a rush because his girlfriend will be here soon, and Khaji-Da is not helping him, telling him to hurry up and just rush so he’s not late or unprepared when she gets here.

He grumbles to himself while the bug on his back continues to pester him, throwing on a black shirt and jeans, he quickly grabs a clean hoodie, zipping it up halfway as a knock on his door echoed through his room.

“I’m coming, hold on!” Jaime stumbles over himself before righting himself before opening his bedroom door to find his girlfriend smirking and trying not to laugh, clearly, she had heard his stumbling.

“What, did I interrupt something, Jaime?” She chuckles, a small grin on her face as she covers her mouth slightly to hide her giggles, her words are lighthearted though, she’s teasing him. She gives him a hug though, just wanting to hug him cause she could.

“No, uh, I thought maybe we’d head down to the cafe downtown…” Jaime chuckles, hugging her back with a small smile, a soft blush on his cheeks, when he releases her, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly with a small grin.

“Alrighty then, let’s go, buggy.” She smiles happily, taking his hand into hers, pulling him along with her as they head out of his house.

“Always gotta call me that…” Jaime muttered to himself with a small, adoring smile as she grabbed his hand, he heard a small laugh come from her as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Simp.” Khaji-Da states really bluntly in his mind. It definitely caught Jaime off guard but when he pushed to know where the scarab learned that from the only response he got was, “The Impulse.”, which made Jaime groan quietly to himself, his grip on her hand tightened slightly.

The two walk along the sidewalk, talking and laughing together while holding hands, it’s an adorable sight to see, they’re absolutely in love, Jaime blushing softly when she chuckles at something he says, Khaji-Da is oddly quiet while they walk, as if letting them have their little loving moment without interruption.

Soon, the small cozy cafe comes into view as they turn the corner. It's a cute cafe, the building is similar to the cottagecore style many like. She smiles as she pulls Jaime along with her, who is smiling as he watches her light up at the sight of her favorite cafe.

Once they enter the smell of freshly made coffee invades their senses, it’s a comforting scent, making the already soft environment even more appealing to the young couple. The sound of quiet music fills their ears as they walk over to the cashier, hand in hand, ordering their usuals whenever they come here to hang out. After they get their orders they wander over to a small table, sitting down as they continue their conversation, both adorned with soft smiles and loving eyes.

As they say, time flies when you’re having fun. The two had gotten so into their time together that they hadn’t noticed the dark clouds rolling over the town until they had gotten up to leave, the sound of rain hitting the windows drowns out the quiet music inside the quaint cafe.

“Oh, it’s raining…” She murmurs, looking up at the sky as she holds her hand out, letting the rain hit the palm of her hand.

Due to neither of them expecting rain, none bothered to bring an umbrella, they’ll have to walk back to his place through the rain unfortunately. Yet, she doesn’t seem to be upset, still smiling as they head out of the cafe and into the rain. Jaime is still holding her hand, feeling bad that they’re both getting soaked from the rain after having such a fun time at the cafe but seeing her smiling still makes his heart just a bit warmer, a small smile spreading onto his face.

————————————————

“Ah…I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you thought our anniversary would be like…” Jaime mutters sheepishly as he unlocks the front door of his family’s house, letting themselves inside. He helps her with her now very soaked coat, placing it off to the side so it can dry. “If you want, you can borrow some of my clothes so you’re not just wearing wet clothes.” He blushed slightly when he offered his clothes to her.

“It was perfect, Jaime, I love just being with you, I had a great time…” She smiles softly at him, reassuring his worries as she brushes some of his wet hair from his face, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss on his wet lips. “And I’ll be taking that offer of dry clothes by the way.” She chuckles as pulls away, walking up the stairs to head to his room to pillage his closet for one of his hoodies.

The chaste kiss made his blush grow darker as he watched her walk off with the most dorky and loving expression he’s ever made towards anyone.

“She’s too good for you, Jaime Reyes.” Khaji-Da mumbles from within his mind after a moment, breaking his oddly long silence, noticing how the short kiss made Jaime smile and his worries melted away, as well as how it made his heart rate spike.

“Shut up, dude.” Jaime sighs before going to join his girlfriend so they can watch that movie he suggested back at the cafe.

——————————————————

(IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I GOT WRITERS BLOCK IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING, I HOPE THIS IS STILL OF DECENT QUALITY FOR YOU!!!)

[minihotdog]

Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You didn't take the tea)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, Somnophilia, poor foreplay, possessiveness

Word Count: 1k

Previous part

“You want some tea, love?”

***

You’re inclined to accept but don’t want to be too demanding while he’s so kind to let you sleep on his couch. 

You put on your best smile, “I’m alright, thank you.”

”I thought I’d offer, keep your head up, yeah?” He says sympathetically before heading off down the hallway. You turn off the floor lamp at the other end of the couch and scroll through your phone, mentally scolding yourself every time you think about going to your ex’s socials to see if he’d posted any pictures of him and your ex-best friend. Your heart pangs with sadness. You dared to open yourself up to two people and got humiliated twice over. You bite back tears, throwing your phone down and trying your best to fall asleep despite the gaping hole in your chest. 

Simon struggled with sleep usually. It wasn’t something he shared with just anyone. He tosses and turns all night and when he does finally find the slumber he’s chasing he’ll jerk awake at the scenes of horrible memories that weigh heavily on his mind. But tonight was different.

The ‘intel girl’ was finally within reach. The boys at work would go quiet every time she would walk by and once she disappeared they talked about their various plans to be the one to chat her up.

He lies awake with his thoughts racing, thinking of her. Thinking of the way she looked at him when he opened his door to her. The way her tank top clung to her, the supple flesh of her breasts outlined perfectly, and the image burned into his mind of when she leaned over the couch, her shorts riding up her toned thighs and the curve of her ass… He felt as if he was running a fever.

He throws the covers to the side letting the cool air hit his overheated skin. He readjusts his sweats, setting his manhood free. He strokes himself to mental images of you to no avail. It’s not enough for him after having you so close. He yearns to feel your skin against his, the need eats away at him. 

His mind begins to tell him that you need him, heartbroken and so needy. Why else would you show up looking the way you did? What if getting locked out of your room was just a scheme to get near him?

He knows you’re attracted to him. The sly glances you always send his way when the two of you pass each other. The flustered look you get when he speaks to you, no matter how brief. It had all been a call to him, of all the men hunting for you, you’d already chosen him.

Before he knows it, he’s opening his bedroom door and standing over your sleeping body. You lie on your side, one palm resting atop the other. So soft in your sleep, unbothered. He wants to reach out and run his fingers over your tear-stained cheeks. 

He climbs over you and carefully lodges himself between you and the backrest. He slowly wraps his arms around you and breathes in your scent. He wonders for a moment if this is the best way to let you know the feeling is mutual, but he knows he won’t have the courage to let you know any other way.

He leaves soft kisses on your shoulder, leading them to your neck. He restrains himself from biting the skin, leaving his mark on you, afraid that it’ll wake you too soon. His rough hands squeeze your breasts, caressing them over your clothing. You stir slightly in your sleep causing him to halt for a moment. He continues his scheme and trails down your stomach slipping his hand beneath your shorts. He moves his thigh in between yours to give himself room.

The pads of his fingers rub slow circles into your clit as he lies there breathing you in. You whine in your sleep. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your delicate neck, speeding up the pace he was toying your clit with. You fuss in your sleep, the foreign feeling disrupting your dreams. Your absentminded moans spur him on. He presses his bulge against your backside, sighing into your neck.

”Simon?” You half slur half moan. He shushes you, working your clit in tight circles. Your hand grips his forearm weakly. 

“S’alright, doll. I’ve got you.”

He runs a finger over your slit feeling the drip from your cunt. He can’t contain himself any longer, needing to feel you, hear you cry out for him.

”I’m sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.” You barely comprehend what he says. He feels bad for not preparing you properly but the blood rushing to his cock has left him painfully hard. You unknowingly contributed to the unbearable ache.

He yanks your shorts off and places your leg over his, spreading you wide open. He wraps his hand around his throbbing length and runs his leaking tip over your folds, lubricating it before he pushes into you.

The resistance forces a gasp from you, stilling your body as he carefully thrusts himself into you. You dig your nails into his thigh trying to push yourself away.

”Easy, easy.” He coos at you, caressing your back with his lips. His arms wrap around your waist, your arm trapped under his heavy biceps. He continues with his shallow thrusts until he’s almost fully in.

”I’ll stop here, love. Deep breath for me.” He speaks so lovingly between his own ragged breaths, as if he hadn’t woken you up with his hand down your shorts. You finally suck in a breath and he pulls out. He waits for you to exhale and shoves himself back in. You squeak, the friction mixes with pleasure. Your brain is still recovering from the fog and unsure if this is actually happening. He gives you a few slow thrusts before his stride increases. 

You whine loudly, not prepared for his hurried movements. He apologizes in your ear repeatedly, gasping and groaning at your tightness. 

“Fuck, I needed you so bad, love. I hope you understand.” He loses his self-restraint, littering you with bite marks, wanting it to be known that you were taken. You cry out in pain as it shoots through your neck and shoulder, his teeth digging into you. He licks the wounds, soothing your irritated skin.

He rams into your cervix and you shutter in his arms.

”Too deep!” You cry out once more. 

“Forgive me.” He brings two of his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them down once more to run frantic circles into your clit.

Your uneven gasps turn to moans and your eyes shut tightly. His thrusts are still violent and overbearing, but the tingles running through you once his fingers slip over the nub, paired together make you drool onto the pillow below you. 

His hard thrusts jolt you upwards. He growls into your neck sending shivers through your spine. 

“Simon!” You whimper. His eyes nearly roll back hearing you call out his name. 

“That’s right, doll. Say my name. Let everyone hear you.” He growls. His unoccupied hand wraps firmly around your neck. He forces your back into an arch. Taking advantage of the new angle he pounds into you, the pleasure that rolls through you is dizzying. Your legs try to close but he forces them open. Your mouth hangs but you can’t bring yourself to make a single sound.

“You look so fucking beautiful. So gorgeous.” He breathes out. Your eyebrows once furrowed from the shocks running through you with each thrust now furrow in confusion.

”Look at yourself, look how beautiful you look getting fucked by me.”

You open your eyes, looking around trying to figure out what he meant. He forces your head in the right direction and your eyes land on the reflection of the two of you off the window. 

It was hard to make out, fuzzy but from where you lied you could see your faces. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his lips parted briefly before his jaw clenched, your mouth still hanging open, legs wide. Your pussy clamps down on him when you see his hand between your legs and his cock disappearing into you. He moans and you watch as he nips your shoulder and then nudges his nose into your hair.

”Squeezin’ the life out of me, darlin’.”

The sight is so pornographic a new wave of wetness comes over you. He slips in and out of you with a delicious slickness. 

Without warning you begin spasming around him. The first one comes and the second takes a moment. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, his fingers work you through the whole thing as your deep convulsions let you feel him fully.

He cries out behind you, his deep moans fuel your release further on. You chant his name and he falls over the edge spilling inside you. He slows his movements, thrusting his cum into you. He twitches inside of you repeatedly, giving you months of pent-up lust.

He slows to a stopping point while kissing your marked skin. He holds you for a while until his breathing stabilizes itself.

 He lowers your leg and slides out from behind you, climbing over your spent body and disappearing for a moment. He returns with a wet rag, cleaning you up before himself. He rounds up the soiled rag in the discarded blanket that somehow got into the mess of fluids. 

He slides your shorts over your legs letting his fingers run along your heated skin before lifting your limp body off the couch and carrying you into his bedroom.

”You’re sleepin’ here for the rest of the night.”

You barely acknowledge the change in location already falling asleep in his arms.

He places you on his soft bed and takes his place next to you. 

The warm covers and his arms are the last thing you feel before falling into a deep sleep. 

He tangles his body with yours giving you one last kiss.

You had no idea, but from that moment on you were his. Only his.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

How do you think Chris (pre getting together) would have comforted her on a bad mental health day or on a day where she’s sad?

I’m in my feels rn and am in need of some wolfie comfort immediately 😤😤😤

P.S - Love you, Rhythm! Hope you’re doing well always! 🩷

- N. 💄

sorry i held onto this one for so long! i just really wanted to write something for it. here's how i think that would go...

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~2k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · roomies idiots to ??? · fluff · hurt/comfort · pre-relationship scenario

minors do not interact.

Fridays were supposed to be the days to unwind. They were supposed to be the day in which you could let loose and forget about work for the next forty-eight hours. At least, you figured they were supposed to be like that for most people.

This Friday particularly, though, had been absolute hell. The whole week had felt like you’d been impersonating Sisyphus and work had been your boulder. You supposed some weeks just… were like that. 

Tonight, all you wanted to do was sit in your room, in the dark–preferably in complete silence and just be nothing. If anyone else came to you and so much as muttered a word you were sure you’d break down and start weeping right then and there. 

Which was why, as soon as you found yourself in your flat, you went straight to your room. There was no energy left for showers or baths. All you did was take off your clothes and bury yourself under the covers.

You had a total of ten minutes of complete silence before the front door practically burst open and boisterous voices filled your home. It kick-started a twitch in your left eye, it had frustration tears pooling on your waterline, but you couldn’t just… ruin their fun. 

You supposed this was the downside of having a roommate. And not only was he a roommate, but he also happened to be the alpha of a pack of wolves, which meant that more often than not your friends and neighbours made themselves at home.

It was fine. That was fine. You loved your friends, you loved to hang out with them and joke and have little parties in your flat. You loved them all, you knew it very well. But, tonight, every little noise they made made you absolutely furious, which made you feel worse because, logically, you shouldn’t be feeling furious at something like this.

Dealing with these conflicting feelings was hard, so you tried your best to just… tune everything out. With your pillow over your head to muffle any sound as best as you could, you laid on your bed, fully naked, probably leaving mascara stains on your pillowcase, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to care.

You managed to mute all background noise… the downside was that you’d done so by replaying events of the week over and over again in your head. How you dropped your coffee mug in the middle of the lunch room on Tuesday, that very passive aggressive email one of your colleagues sent you, how you’d stumbled over your words in a meeting today… 

It felt like your heart was preparing itself for a marathon with how fast it was beating, but for the most part, you were trying to ignore it. You were trying to ignore everything.

At least, until you heard a knock on your door.

“You up, pretty girl?”

Your roommate’s voice was slightly muffled, but you heard him well. Any other day, you would’ve probably felt your mood immediately lift at the sound of his gentle voice and the pet name he often used to refer to you. But, today, you couldn’t even find it in you to answer.

Eventually, you heard him walking away, and it was honestly like a weight had been lifted off of your chest. 

Which, again, made you feel horrible.

You loved your friends, and your roommate was no exception. Although, you weren’t sure if it was fair to compare the feelings you had for your friends to the ones you had for him… 

Regardless, the fact that you felt relieved that you didn’t have to talk to him made you feel terrible. The rational part of your brain knew that this was all due to your exhaustion, but even that couldn’t push away the feeling that you were a horrible friend because you were annoyed by his presence.

Your phone vibrated next to your head, and you immediately sighed in response. 

You were tired and cranky… but you were also chronically nosy. So you picked up your phone and read the notification on the screen.

> Xtopher 🐺: hey pretty > were gonna watch an episode of that series Felix likes > feel free to join us if you want :]

You figured it was easy for your roommate, Chris, to know you were home. You’d left your shoes at the entrance, and, considering his supernatural senses, you were pretty sure he could always hear and smell whenever you were here.

You genuinely appreciated that Chris took the time to send you a text, it somehow reminded you that he wouldn’t just hate you all of the sudden because you didn’t respond to him when he knocked on your door–it probably wasn’t even the first time you’d done that, anyway.

Sleep wasn’t going to claim you anytime soon, and you were out of spoons for the day, but you’d be damned if you slept without removing your make-up. So you spent the next hour rummaging the metaphorical drawer that was your brain, just so you could hopefully find that last emergency spoon you knew would be buried under the events of the week.

By the time you’d found it, a while had passed since you’d heard your neighbours saying their goodbyes, and your roommate going in and out of the shower.

You had to do this now. If you didn’t stand up from this bed right now, you’d break your one and only self-care rule. You couldn’t let the mean part of your brain win, you just couldn’t… Your week had already been bad enough, you had to have at least one win.

So you stood up from your bed, threw on the first sleeping gown you found, and left your room. 

Cleaning your face was honestly a blur. You tried to do it as fast and efficiently as possible. While you did, you debated on whether or not you had enough energy to even eat tonight, but, ultimately, you really didn’t. You weren’t even hungry, just zero appetite. 

So you made it back into your room as soon as your face was clean so you could put moisturiser on your face–there was no energy left for any fancy skin care routines, so moisturiser it was. If you had to put on any extra products you’d start crying for real…

“Hey”.

“Jesus!” You whipped your head towards the door, with your hands still on your cheeks where they’d been rubbing in your moisturiser.

Chris stood at your door looking at you, wide-eyed, dressed in nothing but his lounging shorts. Any other day, the sight of his bare chest would’ve agitated the critters that had been living rent-free in your belly lately. 

As it was right now, you were starting to feel genuine distress in his presence. Which, once again, made you feel like a horrible friend. Distress wasn’t an emotion that you would’ve associated with Chris in normal circumstances, but you figured this week had gone backwards enough for it to be today.

You swallowed, and turned back to look at yourself in the mirror, focusing on finishing tonight’s pathetic excuse of a skin care routine.

“You alright?” Chris’ tone was… tentative. Almost like he knew you were, in fact, not alright. 

You lied anyway.

“M’fine…”

When you finished with your face, you walked right past Chris and into the bathroom to wash your hands. ‘Spread what’s left on your hands to moisturise them, too…’ you could hear your mother’s voice ringing in the back of your mind, but, honestly? If you had to deal with the feeling of cream on your hands for a second longer you’d commit crimes.

As you washed your hands, you felt Chris’ presence behind you, right outside the bathroom. 

“You sure?”

“Positive”, you were, clearly, not fine. But you didn’t want to continue this conversation further, if you did, you feared what might come out of your mouth.

“Y’know you can talk to me, ri–”

“Yes! Yes, I know. I know, Chris. I really do, but I don’t want to do that, you know? I don’t wanna talk, don’t wanna hear, don’t wanna really exist for what’s left of the day, okay?! Maybe it’s better if you mind your own business instead!”

God, you were the worst person on the planet… Here he was, worrying about you like he always did, offering comfort and support, and you weren’t even capable of keeping the annoyance out of your voice, you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying things you didn’t really mean. Why did you let it escalate so quickly? Another one for the tally of Stupid Things I Did This Week that you can sulk over later…

Chris stared at you for a moment, with his eyebrows high on his forehead, opening and closing his mouth for a bit.

A knot started to form in your throat, and no matter how hard you tried to swallow it and ignore its presence, you just… couldn’t.

“My God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you…” You sighed deeply, pressing your fingertips on your eye sockets. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m just so, so exhausted, and I just… I need some silence, okay? I appreciate you asking, but I really need to just… be quiet. I need you to know it’s not you, this is completely on me, but please would you just… not talk to me?”

You really felt like you wanted to cry, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole… Especially because Chris wasn’t saying anything. Which was a very stupid reaction to have when you had just asked him to not talk to you.

When you removed your fingers from your face, you jolted on the spot at the sight in front of you. 

You knew Chris was a werewolf. Hell, you’d seen him in his wolf form numerous times already, but sometimes it was hard not to be startled by it.

Chris sat on the floor of the hall, right outside the bathroom, looking you right in the eyes while his tail swished from side to side on the tiles.

You wondered if he’d even fit through the doorway. He was so… big. So big, and so… so cute.

The logical reaction would’ve been to be at least a bit intimidated. He was pretty much at eye-level with you, he was stronger than you, he could very well hurt you with a snap of his jaw, but his eyes were just the same. Gentle, comforting… You were sure that if there’d been twenty more wolves next to him, you would’ve been able to tell him apart from the rest just by his eyes.

Chris whined, and he stomped on the floor with his paw to get your attention. You blinked at him for a bit, and only then did you notice you had actually started to tear up.

Chris whined again, and then huffed. That seemed to be enough to snap you out of it. You could feel your lower lip wobble, but you still walked closer to him, leaving the bathroom to stand in the hall with him.

As soon as you were out of the bathroom he stood on his four legs, and walked further into your space to nudge your hand with his nose. It was odd, really, but looking at him like this seemed to ease some of that squeezing sensation in your chest.

The realisation that he wouldn’t be able to talk to you while in his wolf form was steadily helping you calm down, or, maybe… It was more so the fact that he was trying to respect your wishes, while also not leaving you completely on your own. 

“M’sorry…” You apologised again, because you truly were sorry.

There was a small part of you that always worried that days like these would make him suddenly realise you were the worst roommate on the planet, that maybe you were a horrible friend. But, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you. That was just the type of man Chris was.

With a minute shake of your head, you placed a hand under his jaw to support his head, and the other on top so you could scratch him behind the ears. Just because you could.

Even if Chris wouldn’t outright admit it to you, you knew he liked it. His wagging tail was more than proof of that.

“Are you my emotional support animal now?” You mumbled, tears were still running down your cheeks, but only sporadically now.

Chris just huffed, and if you looked hard enough, you could’ve sworn there was amusement in his eyes.

He removed himself from your space and turned in circles a couple of times before he was gently taking your wrist in his mouth. You could feel his teeth barely poke your skin, but you could tell he was being very careful.

He pulled a bit. You figured it was his way of telling you to follow him, so you started to walk. Only then did Chris let go of your wrist to start making his way down the hall.

Wiping the tears on your face–ignoring both the discarded lounge shorts by the bathroom door and the fact that you most definitely ruined tonight’s minimal skin care with your tears–you followed Chris to the living room.

As soon as he was in front of the sofa, he nudged the coffee table away with his head, and grabbed one of the blankets you left in a basket nearby to throw it on the floor. He spun on the spot a couple of times, before he plopped down and started pawing at the floor, looking right at you.

You wanted to cry again, but this time, it wasn’t because you were overwhelmed or frustrated. It was just the fact that Chris was… offering comfort cuddles. In his wolf form… in a form that’d make it so he not only wouldn’t talk, but would just be essentially a heated pile of fluff.

And you really, really appreciated it. Mostly because it made you feel like less of a failure, like you weren’t such a horrible friend after all.

Ignoring the fluttering in your heart, you made your way to where he was, took another blanket from the basket, and laid down.

With your head leaning on him, feeling him breathing steadily under you, you simply stared at the ceiling. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that you were laying on the floor, or just his warmth, but after a while, you started to calm down.

Your eyelids felt heavy, you could barely hear anything that wasn’t Chris’ quiet huffs. Eventually, he moved. You lowered your head to the floor for a moment while he took a cushion from the sofa and dropped it next to you, which you took as a sign to use it as a pillow.

Once you were comfortably laying down again with your cushion and your blanket, he simply curled around your body, keeping you warm.

You felt your heart swell, maybe even beat a bit faster against your ribcage, and as you cuddled closer to the big lump of fluff that was your roommate, you couldn’t help but mumble a quiet ‘Thank you…’ right before you fell asleep.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

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[aggro-my-beloved]

Prom? (Shaw Pack x Listeners Imagine)

note: I just made an A03 to post my works on as well, please feel free to follow and interact with my stuff there if that's more comfortable for you! (@aggro_my_beloved)--I also realize it's not prom season, but I never got to go to mine and am simply coping. TLDR: let me live :)

pairings: miloxdarlin' (non-canon), asherxarden (non-canon), davidxasher? (non-canon) davidxangel, miloxsweetheart, samxdarlin', asherxbabe

warning(s): mentions of childhood trauma, gambling addictions, alcohol addictions, sex addictions, an overall depiction of a horrible father.

summary: The pack reminisces about Dahlia High's prom night, and Marie may have overshared a little too much about hers.

word count: 2.2k

estimated read time: 10.5 mins

2010

Marie drew back to admire her son, donning a crooked cotton tie, his father’s black leather loafers scuffed to hell and loose on his feet, as well as a toothy smile. The improvisations of his wear are minor faults, hardly noticeable to the naked eye with thanks to his mother’s stitchwork. The three-piece suit tunic that once hung to his lower thighs, and pants that skirted the floor now fit him like he was born in it. 

“Look how handsome you are,” Marie clasped her hands and guided them to shield her face. It may hide her gummy smile but does little for her eyes prickling with tears. 

“Ma, please don’t cry.” Milo’s plea proved fruitless, as the interlocked fingers separated to wipe desperately at the dark circles beneath her eyes. Perhaps it was the endless nights the woman spent hunching over a sewing machine or the number of times Mrs. Chen, who owned the dry cleaner on 3rd, sent the old suit through the cycle. The stench of cigarette smoke was seemingly embedded into the fabric no matter what she tried. “Like bad tattoo, Miss Greer—it cannot be undone!” 

Milo didn’t mind the lingering smell, for he’s had years of training his nose not to curl in the backseat for fear of his dad’s scornful gaze clocking him in the rearview mirror. One particular coughing fit from his younger years resulted in the boy being sent to his room for being disrespectful—but he heard his father explaining to his mother amidst his tramping down the hall that the glaze over his eyes and reddening cheeks was “simply hay fever.” 

He hoped that, for the sake of his date, he could mask the smell with enough cologne to go somewhat undetected.

 

“You don’t think Dad will be upset about his clothes missing, do ya?” Milo’s nervous chuckle hangs in the air.

“When he waltzes in the door from this week’s business trip, I doubt he’ll be awake enough to notice.” Marie’s copious euphemisms for Colm and his dangerous compulsions did not go unnoticed by Milo at age seven. The ten years added to his belt only gave him time to decode them. Awake really means sober. Business trips are in reference to casinos, bars, or brothels—a very flexible term, to the boy’s surprise. He wants to applaud the front he’d seen through like glass since childhood.

 

“Besides,” her hand occupies itself with the navy tie, still askew, and aligns the windsor to perch evenly below his folded collar, “this is your night. You deserve to feel special, and so does this date of yours.”

 

Milo scoffs, fighting his eyes not to roll up to the popcorn ceiling. Facing his mother’s curiosity was no harder than the water stain from the upstairs neighbor’s dishwasher.

 

“How’d I know this would come up?” 

“Come on, I’m your mother. I deserve to know who my little boy’s become so smitten for.” 

“You’ll see them one day, ma. Patience is a virtue, after all.” It’s Marie’s turn to scoff and turn her cheek.

“Please, I only said that to get you to wait till Christmas for your Xbox.” She eyes the clock on the wall, reading six-thirty. 

“You said the gang would be here to pick you up by now, right?” Milo also cocks his head to see the time. 

“With Ash driving, they’ll be lucky to make it here alive.” His mother’s eyes are boring into his instantly, with furrowed brows and a frown to complement them. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” Another nervous chuckle filled the space before it was cut off by a gasp. Milo’s hands pat around his jacket pockets, eyes flying around the room frantically. “Shit, I forgot-“

“No, you didn’t.” Marie shuffles to Milo’s desk, opening a lower compartment where she’d stowed away his boutonnière and his date’s corsage. “I figured this would be a spot you never check. You said their favorite color is—“

“Yes, yes oh this is perfect! Thank you, ma.” Milo leans forward to kiss her cheek and envelope her petite body into a hug. 

“Still don’t know this person’s name, don’t you think that’s kinda odd?” A series of knocks resound on the front door, cueing Milo to sigh and extend an offer he knew his mother couldn’t refuse. 

“Would you like to meet them, ma?” 

Marie raced him down the hall before he could finish his question. There’s an untimed beating in his chest that he can’t stop. Is it from the excitement of tonight, or who he’d be spending it with? 

“Hi there, I’m M-“ 

“Hey, Mrs. Greer.” The figure lowered their head to the ground and dug the toe of their shoe into the concrete outside. Their hair appeared silky to the touch, skin looking just as soft as it glistened in the setting sun. The jewel tone of their wear complemented their complexion—comparable to a god(dess), their aura was all beauty and grace. 

“Tank?!” Marie gasps. “Oh my gosh, please don’t tell Milo I called you that. He isn’t supposed to know I still eavesdrop on his conversations. You know what, let’s pretend this conversation never happened.” 

“What never happened?” Milo tried not to choke on the cologne he’d spritzed on himself before dashing to find his mother. 

Marie and Tank exchange a knowing look and suspicious smiles. They reply in unison, “Nothing.” 

He squints his eyes, emitting a skeptical hum. “Already keeping secrets from me, huh?” He folds his arms defensively. “I expect this from you, but you…” His finger wags back and forth from his date to his mother.

“Consider it a trust exercise, babe.” Tank steps inside fully to clutch Milo’s hand with a shy smile. 

“Babe,” Marie whispers, “so that means…you two?” 

“Oh c’mon Mrs. G, it was only a matter of time.” Blonde, spiked hair, and sunglasses peek around the corner of the door, and Asher’s dazzling smile introduces itself to the three. “Who knows, maybe there will come a day you realize what you’ve been looking for has been here that whole time.” He lifted the sunglasses to shoot Marie a wink. 

“Oh god, please ignore him. He’s on his third redbull and feeling extra bold.” Tank explains with a shake of her head. “Keep dreaming, Asher.” They add.

“And feel free to not wake up.” Milo chides, urging the two to giggle. “You look good, by the way.” He and Tank lock eyes.

“Thanks,” their eyes flicker up and down to take in their date. They add in a low voice, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

“You don’t have a date, Asher?” Inquires Marie. Silence falls between the three teens before they’re all laughing wildly at the parent’s cluelessness. 

“What’s so funny? Asher’s…” The boy’s eyes grow big, awaiting Marie’s words of flattery and reassurance. His ego deflates when she starts over. “He could have a date if he wanted to.” 

“He does.” Milo squeaks through his laughter. “Well, in a way.” 

“If you can call it that.” A low, rough voice disrupted everyone’s laughter as David marched into the room. 

“David. Oh! Wait, you two…huh, strangely that makes more sense than I thought.” Marie hums, shrugging her shoulders.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m confused.”

Marie opens and closes her mouth, unsure of how to respond. “Wait, you two aren’t...?”

“I’m going with Arden. She and I agreed that if we couldn’t find dates by this weekend, we would go together.” 

“Pity date.” Tank coughs into their elbow. 

“Where is Arden? Is she hiding back there?” Marie cranes her neck for a better angle at the apartment’s threshold.

“Waiting in the car with Chrissy and Amanda. And it’s still a date.” Asher argues, sparing a glance towards his fellow pack member. “That’s more than big guy over here can say.” Asher juts a thumb toward David’s looming body in the back. 

“Awe, David, why aren’t you going with anybody?” Growing a few inches this past summer (in several places) along with enough facial hair for a 5 o’clock shadow promised David enough street cred for a few romantic ventures. His pack mates went as far as placing bets on which of their peers would win their friend over enough to accompany him to the dance but were all left in shock as he turned every choice of theirs down. Marie’s question didn’t faze David. He’d explained it a million times to his friends and father this past week. 

“Going stag. It’s just a personal choice.” The mom snorts at this.

“I remember when I went to my senior prom. It was the same night your father and I got together. Nobody had asked me, and he was planning to “go stag” as well. A couple of drinks of punch and one slow dance later, we were in the locker rooms just—“Four pairs of eyes were on Marie now, who realized she’d gotten too caught up in reminiscing. 

“Uh, forget about it. The end’s not that important.” She waves off with darkening cheeks and a sheepish smile.

“I think it’s kind of interesting. I bet the songs and outfits were so much different years ago.” Tank interjects with a smile. 

“Yeah, how long ago was your prom, Ma?” Adds Milo, who takes the opportunity to snake his arm around Tank’s waist. They sidle up closer to him as a result.

“How old are you?” 

_________________________________________

Present Day

“I can’t believe how long ago that was.” The four friends peer down at the photo of them gussied up and taken by Marie. Asher was still in his sunglasses and throwing up a "rock on" sign with his tongue out, David had his arms crossed and was rolling his eyes at the ridiculous pose. Tank and Milo stood back to back, finger guns held under their chins and against their chests with goofy smiles. Fourteen years of the developed picture left it with sun spots and wrinkled corners, but the memories of that night still felt new to each of them. 

“We look sick as hell!” Asher nods. “Well, except David. He just looked sick of us.” 

“Some things never change.” Angel pipes up, daring to bring a finger to the corner of their mate’s mouth and lift it. 

“I think it was just you that he was sick of, Ash. There’s only so much pop music this stick-in-the-mud can handle.” Tank points. 

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea to play Taylor Swift the whole car ride there! You’re pointing fingers at the wrong guy.” Asher raises his hands defensively. 

“Well, it wasn’t me either. Only Amanda and Arden listened to her.” 

“Didn’t Christian request the DJ to play Paper Rings at our wedding?” Babe tilts their head in wonder, breaking their concentration away from the photo. 

“I’d love to see you in that getup now, darlin’.” Sam chuckles against Tank’s ear.

“You’ll have to dig in my closet for it. I’m not even sure I still own that.” They laugh to themselves, suddenly nostalgic for their high school days. 

“I have a question: whatever happened between you two?” Sweetheart inquires, looking between the past couple. There wasn’t a trace of jealousy in their voice, their aura, just pure curiosity. 

“I think it was just a summer fling. By the time graduation came around, neither of us felt that mate connection with each other. So what was the point of pursuing it, you know?” Tank nods along to Milo’s brief explanation as if they were mentally checking off every word. 

“Ooh, ooh! Remember how good the punch was?” Ash interrupts. 

“I’m surprised you remember. You had half the bowl.” Says Milo. 

“So?” Asher replies. The three all choke back laughter. 

“The shit was practically jungle juice! I could taste seven different liquors from one sip. And I’m pretty sure David escorted you to the locker rooms 'cause you were about to hurl.” Tank says. 

“The locker rooms, huh? Did you two happen to share a dance…one of the slow variety?” Milo quirks an eyebrow. 

“...it’s a possibility,” David mumbles with a scowl. Everybody on the couch begins giggling mischievously. “Wasn’t my fault the little shit wouldn’t let me drive him home because Hey There Delilah started playing. Anyway, it was barely a slow dance, he was just leaning on me the whole time whining about how nauseous he felt.”

“Hope y’all left room for Jesus in that gym,” Babe smirks. 

“I think I also shared a slow dance with uh…Kathy Boone? No, Karly B–”

“Karly Brown! As in our classmate in the third period, Karly Brown? So, you technically went to prom with Karly Brown?” Tank leans forward on the loveseat occupied by them and Sam, who’s now invested in his mate’s eager tone. 

"Two slow dances with two different people? On the same night? You little slut!" Angel hisses teasingly. 

"I can't believe I got Karly Brown's sloppy seconds," Asher whines. I thought what we had was special, Davey!" The alpha chooses to ignore their pestering in favor of Tank's question. 

“In a way, I g-guess.” David shrugs. “Why?”

“You two owe me twenty bucks!” They declare. "Suck it!" 

[darksigns-exe]

the taste of the divine - noah x laurie (ofc)

warnings: Swearing, gentle femdom, use chastity device (cock cage), mommy kink, use of butt plugs (m receiving) oral sex (f receiving), pegging (m receiving)

word count: 4.6k

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

“I think I just need to get out of my head.” He says a little shakily. 

Noah isn’t sure where this anxious energy is coming from, either. He’s fidgety, agitated. He can’t find rest no matter how hard he tries. He doesn’t even have anything wild on his calendar. He’s just restless. 

Laurie looks at him with a deep sense of worry. He doesn’t like when she looks like that, not because he doesn’t like how much she cares for him, but rather because he doesn’t want her to worry. 

“Come here, will you?” She asks softly, patting the spot next to her on the sofa. 

Noah follows quietly. He finds himself settling into that space so easily. He hasn’t outright asked for it yet, but Laurie always seems to know when he needs her to really take the reins. 

He settles against her side, lets himself melt against her smaller frame. 

“Can you tell me what you need?” 

That’s the issue, though, he doesn’t quite know what he needs. All he knows is that he needs her to take him apart bit by bit. That he needs to feel himself reduced to the most base part of his soul so that they can put the pieces of him back together afterwards. 

Saying it out loud is a different thing, though. It’s still a little daunting. He’s sure that he’ll eventually be able to ask her to turn him inside out without stumbling over his words like this. 

“Can you take care of me again?” Is the best he can manage. The honorific gets lost in his mumbling. Knowing Laurie, she has still somehow picked up on it. 

Above him, Laurie lets out a soft sigh. She presses a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Oh baby.” She says softly, “You want me in charge of it?”

He lets out a barely there yes, but it’s enough for her. Laurie carefully ushers him to sit up, so that they’re face to face. She keeps a gentle hold on his hand, and he’s more than thankful for it. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You can say no at any point, there will be no hard feelings. Understood?”

He nods, looking somewhere between intimidated and shy. 

“Words, Noah. I’ll need to speak up for this.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” She gives him an almost wicked smile, “You’re going to go over into the bedroom and undress for me. I want you to fold your clothes and place them up on the dresser. After that, I want you to sit on the edge of the bed and wait. I’ll be with you in a moment. Is that all clear?”

“Yes.”

She cradles his face in one of her manicured hands, and Noah feels his heart skip a little in anticipation. A kiss is pressed to his cheek and he can feel the remnants of her lipstick staining his skin. 

“Take your time. There’s no rush at all. Is that okay?”

He confirms, still feeling a little shaky. 

Laurie releases her hold on him. 

“Go on, my love.” 

Noah takes a final breath before he scrambles off the sofa. He feels Laurie’s eyes burning into his back as he makes his way over into their now shared bedroom. He knows that she has experience with this, but he hadn’t expected her to be this prepared. They’ve dabbled in this kind of play before, and Laurie had made it very clear that she wanted to help him explore it. He can’t help but feel a little bitter about the thought that someone before him might have felt her gentle hand on their cheek. 

Noah has no idea of what she’s planned for him, and it makes him nervous. He does as she’s asked, strips down until he’s bare and folds his clothes. He feels horribly exposed, even though she’s seen him like this all too often. 

When he sits on the bed, he finds himself automatically placing his hands on top of his thighs. Noah doesn’t know how much time passes until the door clicks open. 

In the dim light of the room, he can barely make out her shape. 

She doesn’t say anything and just quietly checks that he’s done what she asked him to do. 

“Good boy.”

The praise sears through him like fire. 

“Ready for the next part?”

“I’m ready.”

She’s standing right in front of him by then. All soft bodied and warm. Her hand cards through his hair, forcing him to look up at her. 

“We’re going to put a pretty little plug in you. It’s a little bigger than the one we’ve used before, but you’ll be fine. Before that, though, I’d like to lock your cock up. I know it’s a big thing, but the aim of this is for you to give up control. I think you’ll like it.” Her hand shifts towards his cheek, “Does that sound okay?”

“If I decide that I don’t like it?”

“We’ll take it off again. All you have to do is say so.”

“I want to try.” Noah says surprisingly firm. 

“Lie back for me, sweetheart.”

“Can I see how you do it?”

She pauses for a second, fixing him with a minimally concerned look, “Of course. Sit up against the headboard.”

He does as she asks, sits all prettily until she gently tugs him just a little bit forward. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Tell me if something feels off, okay?”

His chest heaves with nervous breaths when she carefully moves the ring over his shaft. She’s so calm with it that Noah’s sure that she has done this before. He doesn’t have time to question how this thing works. 

“That’s the first part done. How’s it feel?”

Noah dares to look down for the first time. It’s just a ring that sits at the base of his cock and behind his balls. It’s new. It feels strange. It’s tight, but not uncomfortably so. 

“It’s good.”

“Do you need a moment?” 

“Can I see the rest?”

“The actual cage?”

He nods “Yes.”

The plastic feels too light for what it means. He doesn’t know how it’ll fit, how it’ll feel in general. The idea makes him feel a little dizzy, though. He’d asked her to take control from him, he’d wanted this. And now that it’s practically dangling in front of his face, he feels a little scared of it all. 

“Do you just want to see how it feels first? We don’t have to lock it immediately.”

The tenderness she gives him when they play like this always makes him shiver. Laurie’s always so gentle with him, so caring. When they’d first started to talk about kink in this way, and she told him that she prefers to be in charge, most of the time his mind had gone straight to cuffs and whips and whatever else porn had sold him. That this kind of dominance could be gentle, too, had been entirely new to him. 

He can’t imagine them being different now. Noah hadn’t thought of himself as anything really when it came to this kind of thing. But when Laurie tells him to be good, he can’t help himself. Doing as she asks is a natural instinct. 

“Noah?” The stern edge to her voice makes his head snap up, “I asked you something.”

“Can we just try it for now?”

Her face softens immediately, “Of course, my love.”

He holds the plastic piece out to her. Laurie sits in front of him, one hand on his knees as she gently pries his thighs apart just a little bit more. This he knows. 

“Tell me if something feels off, okay?” 

“Okay.” He mirrors.

Noah tries to think of anything but her, when she takes him into her hand. It’s such an odd feeling. He’d thought that it would be a tight fit, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. She’s so careful with it, too. 

“How’s that feel?” 

Her hand is still holding it in the position it would be in when locked. 

Noah thinks for a moment. 

He wants to try at least. Even if it’s just out of curiosity. 

“It’s good.”

Laurie smiles then, all soft and sweet, before she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“Hold it up for me?”

Noah nods. 

He watches as she picks up a small key from the night stand. 

“If you want it off at any moment, let me know. We’ll stop immediately.”

“I will.”

“Good boy.” Her thumb drifts over his cheek briefly.

His eyes follow her hands when she moves to lock the cage in place. He feels himself twitch inside the plastic. 

“There you go.”  

The key returns to its place on the night stand. 

His tummy feels all kinds of twisted up. It’s not bad, though. To his surprise, he likes it, likes how small it makes him feel. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good. I like it.” 

And he really does. There’s an odd sense of comfort that comes with it. He’s entirely hers right now, and that sets his mind at ease. 

“Do you need a moment or are you good to go on?”

“We can go on.” 

Laurie has him move onto his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. Normally, Noah prefers to be on his back for this part. He wants to see her, wants to see how it affects her, but with what they’re doing today this feels right.

Her fingers drift across his skin. He’s on edge, unsure of where she’ll touch next. Lips press to his lower back, lower still against the soft round of his backside. Her thumbs drag along the length of his spine, and he moans with relief. It’s not enough to ease the knots out of his back, but it feels divine. 

“Gonna be cold for a second, honey.” She whispers before he feels the first touch of her finger against the taut muscle. 

Laurie draws slow circles against his entrance, carefully works her pointer finger into him. The ache isn’t so bad any more. He’s gotten used to it and the stretch of her fingers by now. The comforting hand on his waist helps too. It’s a constant reminder that she’s there, that she’s taking care of him. 

Noah feels himself getting lost in the feeling. His soft sighs quickly turn into whines when she works a second finger into him. 

“You’re doing so well for me, my love. Always such a good boy.” She coos. 

The praise always makes him sink further into that headspace. The more she praises him, the better he wants to be for her. 

Noah presses back against her, desperate to feel more. 

“I know what you want.” She gives his waist a gentle squeeze, “You’ll get it if you’re good for me.”

“Please.” 

Her fingers still at his plea, “You’ve been so very good. Don’t get bratty now. I told you, you’ll get what you want if you’re good.” 

Noah cranes his head back, trying to get a glimpse of her, “Please mommy, I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Laurie gazes at him with a tenderness that makes him want to crumble beneath her. 

She pats his waist softly, “I know you will. You love being my good boy, don’t you?”

He whines out a yes, and that seems to be enough for Laurie. She picks up her slow and steady rhythm once again. They’ve done this part a few times, and Noah knows that he has to keep his mind empty if he wants to last. He can’t tell how long they’re here like this. The press of her fingers against his walls almost makes his arms buckle a few times. And when Laurie eventually removes her fingers from his hole, Noah finds himself whining at the sudden emptiness. 

“You’ve almost made it, baby.” Her gentle voice seeps through his already fogged up mind, “Just the plug now, and then we’re done.”

He feels her lean towards the night stand, but Noah can’t bring himself to look at what she’s doing. He doesn’t have to wait long, though. Her hands soon return to his waist. 

“How are you feeling?” 

It takes Noah a second too long to reply, because a moment later she has moved to his side. 

“Noah?” 

Laurie cups the side of his face, to make him look at her. 

“Talk to me, love.”

He blinks at her a few times, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Do you want to take a break?” She asks softly, thumb drifting across his cheek so sweetly. 

“Just a second.” Noah replies shakily. 

Laurie tilts his head up just a little bit more, before she leans in to kiss him. 

“You’ve been so, so good for me.” She whispers against his lips. 

The sweet, gentle praise, she showers him with, seeps into his mind. And when she moves back behind him, Noah patiently anticipates the dull pressure of the plug. He whines when he finally feels it. Laurie takes her time with it, slowly easing the plug into his hole. His breath catches when the widest part of it stretches him open. It slips inside so easily that Noah doesn’t even have the time to moan. 

“There you go, my darling. All done.” another squeeze of his waist, “Want a little break now?” 

 His head perks up at that. 

He sits up next to her, shifting a little when the plug moves inside of him. Laurie pulls him in for another gentle kiss. Her hand feels so awfully small against his cheek, but it’s always so reassuring. Laurie moves them so that Noah is resting against her belly, arms wrapped around her middle as best as he can. The sweet things she whispers to him barely reach his conscious mind. He feels so safe and comfortable when they’re like this, so well taken care of. The gentle care she gives him eases his worries like little else does.

As comfortable as he is, he can’t stop his restless shifting. Laurie cards her hand through his hair, carefully pushing some of the strands away from his face. 

“Think you’re up for more? I know this is a lot at once.” 

He turns his head so that he can look at her, “We can go on.” 

“Still comfortable?”

“Very.” he can’t hide the smile that so desperately wants to force its way onto his face. 

“Good. Do you want to get on your knees for me? Show me just how good you are?”

He nods and almost immediately tries to worm his way out of her embrace. Laurie laughs softly at his eagerness. 

“You know where I want you.” She continues, “Be good for me and wait. I’ll be right back with you.”

He wants to protest, wants to whine when she walks past him. But he knows better by now. Whining won’t get him what he wants. And so Noah only lets out a hum when her hand runs through his hair and down the side of his face. He doesn’t turn when he hears one of the drawers behind him slide open and close again. Noah hears her moving, the rustling of clothes, and a moment later Laurie is back in front of him. She’s shed her shorts, leaving only the shirt of his that she’d borrowed earlier in the day. 

Noah lets his head drop to the inside of her thigh when she’s properly seated. It almost feels as if his mind is set onto a singular goal. He waits patiently, eyes fixed on her face. He feels drowsy in the best way possible. The things he’d been agonising over had faded into the background of his mind, leaving him only with the desire to be good for her. 

“Mommy?” He asks quietly. 

Laurie looks at him with a softness that makes him shiver, “Hm?”

“Can I?��

“What do you want, love? You’ll have to be a bit clearer.”

“Can I put my mouth on you? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” the desperation in his voice is evident by now. 

Laurie pulls him closer with a gentle hand on his cheek, “You’ve been so good. Go on.” 

Noah surges forward as soon as her thighs are parted wide enough to for it. His hands curl around her thighs, fingers digging into her skin. He sighs when his tongue makes contact with her folds. The taste of her floods his senses and Noah lets himself get lost in the sensations of it. Laurie’s fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close, even though they both know that she’ll have to pry him away later. 

He kisses and laps at her folds so carefully. By now, Noah has a good grip on what she likes, and he’s more than happy to give her exactly that. The pretty sighs that fall from her lips fuel his slow exploration. The gentle scrape of her fingers against his scalp feels like heaven and mixed with her sweet taste he can’t imagine himself anywhere else. Not that he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Always make me feel so good, love.” she sighs, “You’re so good for me.” 

He looks up at her, warmth filling his insides. She’s so beautiful, and he’s so in love. Laurie gazes at him with so much softness, so much love. Her grip on his hair tightens, as she pulls him deeper against her again. He whines against her when she pulls at his hair just right. Noah feels so dizzy with it. Between the different stimuli, he doesn’t quite know what to focus on first. The plug shifts inside him, making him gasp and moan against her. Above him, Laurie mirrors the sounds he makes, sighing with every pass of his tongue through her folds. 

He feels her shudder through her climax, but her hands remain in his hair, and he knows that she wants him to continue. Noah remains between her thighs, until she pries him away. He doesn’t know how long she had allowed him to stay between her thighs like this, but from the ache in his knees, it must have been some time. His head thumps against the inside of her thigh again. Noah draws in a deep breath. He can feel the residue of her release on his face. 

Laurie seems to be just as breathless as he is. The thin sheen of sweat that covers her face makes her skin shine so prettily. 

“You were so good for me, my dear.” she says so sweetly, “I think you’ve really earned your treat.” 

Noah feels himself perk up at that. 

Laurie gives a little laugh in return, “Come up here, will you?” 

He scrambles up to his feet, almost tumbling over on top of her as he does. Laurie’s hands quickly find their way to the sides of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 

“On your back, Noah.” another kiss, “I’ll be right with you.” 

Noah does as she asked, positioning himself in the middle of the bed. His hands open and close over and over again, unsure of where wants to leave them. He watches as Laurie steps into the harness. He’s been waiting for this since they started. Noah loves how attentive she is with him. She takes such good care of him, always intent of making him feel good. 

The sight of the strap on always makes shiver a little. They’ve worked their way up to one that isn’t too far off from the size of his own cock. It looks enormous on her. He squirms, anticipating the feeling of it inside of him. 

“Think you’re ready for it?” Laurie asks, as she comes to kneel between his legs.

Noah nods quickly, “Yes.”

Her hands run across his thighs. Noah feels the muscle spasm beneath her touch. One hand remains on his thigh, while the other moves towards the plug. Laurie’s eyes remain fixed on his when she tugs at the plug. She scans his face for discomfort, and when she doesn’t find any, she continues to pull at it. Noah’s hands grip into the bedsheets below him, trying to stifle the whine that sits behind his lips. It breaks free eventually when the widest part of the plug passes through him. It’s over a moment later. Laurie squeezes his thigh when he lets out a faint little whimper. 

“You’re doing so good, love.” she whispers, “So, so good.” 

Laurie uncaps the bottle of lube again. The nervous anticipation in Noah’s belly threatens to bubble over. He winces when the cold lube touches his skin, earning himself another calming squeeze of his thigh. She covers the toy in lube, her small hand fitting around it just barely. 

It’s a dizzying sight.

Noah can’t keep his eyes open any longer when he feels the dull head of the toy against his hole. Thanks to the preparation, the toy slips in easily. His thighs spread further, giving Laurie more space. Noah feels himself whimpering, gasping as it sinks into him. Laurie leans across to kiss him, when the toy is fully seated inside of him. 

“Feeling good, love?” she asks softly. 

He can’t bring himself to speak up this time, and thankfully Laurie doesn’t force the words out of him this time. Instead, her hands find their way to his waist. Her fingers drift across the skin of his tummy. 

He gasps when the toy shifts, as she readjusts her position a little. Noah gives the faintest nod, signalling that he’s ready to continue. He’s glad that she’s giving him this grace. Usually, she’s so very intent on him giving verbal responses. 

Laurie pulls back until just the head of the toy remains inside. She keeps her thrusts slow, drawing out the end he craves so much. He feels himself fraying at the seems with every thrust she gives. What Laurie gives him is enough to keep him right at the edge of it, but not enough to send him over the edge. One of his hands releases the sheets and instead comes to hold onto her thigh, needing to feel her skin somehow. Laurie’s hand curls around his, entangling their fingers to ground him. It’s enough to get Noah to open his eyes again. He needs another moment, before he can bring himself to look at her across the length of his body. He can’t look at where they’re joined for very long. She looks gorgeous, eyes blown wide, lips parted and spit-slicked, cheeks tinged pink. 

“Does that feel good?” she asks, sounding a little breathless already. 

Noah tries his best to articulate a yes, but it comes out as a breathy whine. She smiles and the movement of his hips stutters just a little.  

He whines out her name, gasping when she hits just the right spot. Seeing his thigh hiked up against her waist, her hand gripping into his skin, melts his brain even more. His back arches off the mattress, and the sweet words Laurie speaks turn into fuzz. Noah swears that his vision whites out when his climax hits him. It’s overwhelming, and Noah feels as if he’s floating several feet above his own body. The feeling becomes too much a moment later, and he squeezes her hand twice to signal it to Laurie. 

She stops moving immediately. 

Laurie gently guides his leg back down to the mattress. 

“You did so well for me, Noah.” she says, barely above a whisper, “Do you need a moment?”

“You can pull out.” he croaks, his voice so rough and worn out. 

His grip on her hand tightens when she does, and he only whines when she gets up off the bed. Laurie doesn’t shush him like she sometimes does, doesn’t tell him to stop whining and that she’ll only be away for a moment. His eyes fall shut again and Noah lets himself revel in the feeling for a moment longer. 

The bed dips down again and he feels her undo the lock. Noah can’t stop the sigh that falls from him when she carefully pulls the cage away again. It feels as if it has been ages, but at the same time he’d gotten used to it so quickly that he had barely noticed it towards the end. 

“I’m going to get a wash cloth and start us a bath, okay? I’ll be right back.” the words barely reach his drowsy mind. 

He feels a little more settled when Laurie returns a little while later. Additionally, to the wash cloth, she had picked up one of the cookies they’d gotten from the café earlier that day and a bottle of water. Noah sits up against the headboard, letting his head drop against it when she sits next to him. He should be used to the routine that follows. But she’s so gentle with him when she cleans the residue of his cum from his skin. Being taken care of like this always makes him feel so very loved. Laurie tends to him so sweetly that it makes his heart soar every time. 

“How are you feeling?” Laurie asks when he’s settled against her in the tub. 

It’s more than a little cramped, he barely fits into the damned thing and his knees stick out of the lush, warm water. The comfort of this part is unmatched though.

“Good.” he replies, “I don’t think that I’ve ever felt like that.” 

Laurie presses a kiss to his cheek, “Think we’ve gotten you out of your head?” 

He pauses for a moment, tempted to be cheeky about it. Instead, he nods. 

“Thank you, Laurie. You always take care of me and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Another kiss to cheek, “Thankfully we don’t have to think about that case, because you’re not getting rid of me. Ever.”  

Nor would he ever want to. He can’t attest all of his progress to Laurie, but she’d always shown him so much unconditional kindness and love that he’d at some point started to see himself worthy of that. Noah doesn’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way he’d found a sense of profound happiness. The comfort he finds in these small four walls they share, their little routines, the gentle little touches they exchange throughout the day slowly mends the cracks in his chest. And he’s sure that he wouldn’t have found any of this if it hadn’t been for her. 

He tries to pay it back as best as he can. He knows that he’s clumsy with it sometimes. It comes so effortlessly to her and Laurie is adamant that he’s doing more than enough to her. But on some days the sandwiches he brings her – not from the shop but their own kitchen – don’t feel sufficient to express the love and gratitude he feels. He knows that she doesn’t expect grand gestures from him, they’ve had this discussion more than once. All Noah wants is to give some of the love she gives him back.

“All this work to get you out of your head, just for you to get lost again.” Laurie tuts behind him. 

“Just thought about how good this all is.” Noah answers after a moment, “I love you so much.” 

He tries to crane his head back to look at her. When he can’t quite reach her, he tries to turn and his shifting slashes some of the water out onto the tiles and the carpet. None of it matters though when gets to look at her and Laurie whispers an I love you too against his lips. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken

[waklman]

Pool Rules

summary: you get yourself into trouble trying to surprise your boyfriend during swim practice.

pairing: bob floyd x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n. fluff, like one suggestive joke. 18+ blog in general.

olympic swimmer au

the last lap masterlist.

“Floyd, security detained your girl again,” Jake flatly announces, stalking into the locker-room with his very own girlfriend in tow, leading her inside with their hands entwined.

“Again?” Bob pivots on his damp feet, zipping up his arena jacket back up out of courtesy. 

Really, it should alarm him more that you’ve been snagged by pool staff, but this was the third time it’s happened, this week.

“It was so mean!” Jake’s girlfriend chimes in, microfiber towel thrown over her head. Not bothered enough to ask if Bob’s decent, she rips the cotton draped over her eyes and Jake grits, wrestling to get it back on. “They just—they grabbed her thinking she’s some random fan that snuck in! Isn’t that horrible?”

“Would you just—get out of here Floyd.” Jake redirects the scolding to his teammate, still fighting against his girlfriend as she erupts into a bout of giggles at Jake’s struggle to keep the towel in place. 

Understanding that Jake’s frustration isn’t fully targeted towards him, Bob nods and steers his body towards the exit, leaving his pile of dry clothes behind on the bench.

Assuming you’ve been stuck into that detainment room, Bob makes his way up there, swim tights still dripping wet.

Nearing you in his climb up the stairs, he sighs remorsefully, turning the corner. They probably stuck you in the grubby plastic chair that you swore flattened out your butt. And despite his tireless efforts to convince you otherwise, you were fully set on the fact that your rear quite literally sunk.

With a gentle knock to the door, the athlete cuts through his own stream of thoughts. And in getting no answer to the polite gesture, Bob pauses, waiting out a few more seconds before cautiously letting himself inside.

He’s not the least bit surprised to find you sitting in that very chair you hated so much, pouty face painted in streaky lines of red white and blue. As usual, you look like you’re ready to cheer on the U.S team at any given moment. 

Wordlessly coming to a stop in front of you, Bob lets you stain his white nylon jacket with your patriotic face paint as you slump forward, landing flat on his stomach. In all fairness, his bare legs do wet the front of your shirt in return, but it doesn’t seem like you care all that much when you whine and curl your hands behind his thighs to pull him closer.

“Hi there, pretty girl,” he looks down at you, his shriveled hand petting the back of your head. All it takes is the feeling of you leaning into his palm, for the tight wounds of Bob’s muscles to finally loosen, despite his wearied efforts to alleviate the strain post-practice. 

“They still didn’t recognize me from last time,” you dejectedly share, ignoring his greeting. “The guys that put me in here didn’t even believe Seresin when he tried telling them I was your girlfriend.”

Doing a quick scan of the dusty room, Bob notices that they’ve left you unsupervised this time. From a technical standpoint, the athlete can’t exactly blame them for not realizing who you actually were. Because everytime you did pay Bob a visit, you wore bizarre USA themed outfits to cheer him on—that altered your appearance each time. 

He hated to admit it but, Bob was impressed that Jake could even manage to tell you apart from one of the crazed fans camping outside the training center.

But, even if you were one of them, Bob knows there’s a partially pathetic side of him that would still forget how to expel a breath if he saw a girl as cute as you choosing to root for him, instead of one of his teammates. 

“You know why? It’s ‘cause you get prettier each time you show up looking for me. They can't believe how I got so lucky with you," he finally suggests with a small smile, coaxing you to stand up.

“Let me see what you got on today, Champ,” he reaches for your limp hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before lifting it above your head, to twirl you around.

A shy giggle bubbles out your chest when your boyfriend spins you, whispering about how pretty you looked as he runs his eyes over you. 

Not wanting to make you dizzy, Bob slows down the movement, his hands moving to your hips to steady your balance. “Where’d you get this from? It’s cute,” he leans back slightly, chuckling when you proudly puff your chest at him. 

Pulled up on each of your legs are knee high socks, one blue and one red with white stripes lined at the hem. And stretched across your t-shirt is a saturated Getty image of your boyfriend, gold medal between his teeth.

Lifting yourself on your tippy toes, you glide your fingers through his damp strands, pushing it out of his face. “Would you believe me if I said I had it made? I think it’s my favorite picture of you,” you confess.

A surge of butterflies suddenly flutters in your stomach, when your eyes slowly drift down to his flushed chest, that just barely peeks through the small gap of his unzipped jacket. You swallow, spotting a droplet of water still clung to his skin that runs down the line of his torso.

“Oh yeah?” He teases, pulling your attention back to his face. Though Bob’s trying to act coy, a rare side of him that had his coach choking on his sandwich the first time he witnessed it—there’s a matching tint of pink on his cheeks that gives him away. 

Lightly tugging on the roots of his hair, a mischievous look washes over your features. 

“Mhm, I just love having you on me honey,” you playfully bite back. And there goes the controlled breathing practice Bob spent half his life perfecting.

“Okay, that was—that really wasn’t fair,” he falters, feeling another wave of heat settling into his already flushed skin.

"Oh I'm sorry, didn't know we were playing fair now," you egg on, watching your giant boyfriend grow shy.

Bob only pokes his cheek with his tongue, until he takes in the fact that you’re wearing a shirt with his face on it. And he couldn’t see it any earlier because you’ve been trapped up here the whole time.

“I don’t know why they keep doing this to you, I’m sorry Champ,” he feels the need to apologize, drawing you in for a hug.

Bob considered himself a fairly polite guy, but when his girlfriend’s been given a hard time repeatedly—he feels less inclined to be so nice in his next run-in with security. 

But instead of showing his sudden wear in patience, he relaxes completely—finding it nearly impossible to retain any tension in his body when you gently scratch at his scalp.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, twirling a piece of hair around your finger. “You found me anyway.”

“They made you sit in that chair though.” 

“My butt is probably so flat,” you let out groan at the reminder, pressing your feet to the ground. 

Not a second later, Bob goes to squeeze your butt. “Not, really,” he decides, seriously. "Even if it was, I don't think I'd care."

“Don’t you lie to me,” you scold, brows pinched together.

“M’ not. Did you want me to check again?”

Before you can anything, a uniformed man stands under the door frame, lifting his eyes off his clipboard. Almost in sync with eachother, you both stiffen hearing the noise.

“Alright young lady, I cleared things up with—Oh..”

note: swimmer bob swimmer bob swimmer bob!! as always thank you for reading, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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tags: @Genius2050 @eli2447 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @et-homephone @olymosity @wkndwlff @cruelmissdior @eternallyvenus @queerqueenlynn @sushiwriterhere @ravenhood2792 @Natdrunk @goosterroose

[weasleycream]

ㅤㅤㅤ୭.ᰍㅤ𝅄 ֹ " 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 " 🧸 Ⳋ

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ; 𝑅andal 𝐼vory x 𝒮tudent!𝐹em!𝑅eader

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; Use of bad words, mentions of blood (nosebleeds), Meaningless dialogues, Bad grammar in English, Something (quite) short.

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ; 1.5k+

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ𝗨𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤWell, I did this on a whim, something about Randal bothers me and I haven't found much about him, so I wanted to do something short to get rid of the desire 🥹.

It was not at all strange that in her classroom they regularly talked about Randal Ivory 'The school phenomenon', she knew that she should not care at all what they talked about and much less if she was not aware or integrated, but it bothered her. that since the redhead's arrival they have not stopped talking horribly about him.

They didn't bother to lower their voices even when he arrived that day, with his typical crooked and uncouth smile, it seemed like they did it on purpose when they raised their voices as he walked past them, hearing all kinds of unpleasant things about him. He sat next to her, staring at her to giggle as blood began to ooze from his nostrils and reach the corner of her mouth, where he nonchalantly licked the blood away and cleaned what he couldn't taste his sleeve.

Somewhat nervous, she turned her gaze and smiled roughly, greeting him "Good morning, Randal… How are you?" She asked him kindly, turning her bright, dreamy orbs to the glasses one again, hearing a laugh from him again.

"Heh… How are you, Y/N?… You know, I walk like a stuffed lizard, so free and fresh…" He blurted out without any logic in a silly way, narrowing his haggard eyes and widening his smile, slightly showing his small canines.

She laughed in response at the idiocy he said, to respond by turning her body towards him "Pretty good, actually, you somehow brighten my days here… And tell me… How does it feel to be a stuffed lizard, I'm curious about your world" He played along in a tender way, flashing a silly smile.

"Well, you know, it feels good, I guess… Heh.." He said briefly and without any wavering in his voice, looking at her intently, "You're quite pretty, would you like to go to my house?" She asked suddenly surprising the girl in front of her, who blushed at the small compliment given by the redhead.

"Ahm!… Well, I don't know, I don't think I can go… Do you think it's Saturday…? I'll be alone and I could go for a while…" She responded hesitantly to the unexpected invitation, mentally organizing her schedules, receiving a nod and shrug from the boy. "Well, how about you give me the location and I'll come on Saturday morning?" He asked, to see how the brunette nodded frantically in a sudden change of mood, returning to his nosebleed as he carelessly tore a sheet of paper from his notebook, then took out a bitten black pen and wrote something barely legible, small drops of Blood fell onto the paper staining it a deep crimson. She gave it to him and he saw it, apparently he was going to have to walk a lot on Saturday to get to that forest.

Standing in front of the colorful scruffy house, she swallowed hard, she was thinking about not knocking, but it had taken her more than two hours to find her dear friend's house, she swallowed hard, and decided to knock after long minutes of thinking. He waited a few minutes, thinking about knocking on the door again, just when he was going to do so, a fairly tall man, with somewhat long hair cut like a 'mushroom' and brown in color, dressed in elegant but simple clothes, with a sort of of blush on his cheeks, and eyes wide open and neutral. That man lowered his head slightly, staring at her to press his lips more into a completely straight line, if he could.

"You must be my little brother's best friend. He didn't say you were so small… Hmm, I'll talk to him about it later. Come on, you're going to get dehydrated standing there." He responded strangely, with a thick and neutral voice, without even blink, making the girl extremely nervous, making her give a smile that looked more like a crooked grimace, and a slight nod.

"Eh- Delighted, Sir… My name is Y/N.." she introduced herself in a low voice, raising her head a little to look at her face, waiting for a response before a minute of uncomfortable silence.

"I know, Randal is always talking about you when he comes home from school. Call me Luther." She mentioned in the same tone as a few minutes ago, freezing the female's blood, who gave a nod in response. "Well, I'll let Randal know you're here."

And with that, the tall man turned around heading towards the stairs that looked down a narrow dark hallway. He left her alone in that gloomy and chilling room, watching how, in what seemed to be the kitchen, a small blond teenager in sailor clothes, took out piles of food in a frightened manner, only to run away as soon as he saw her in the distance, dropping some cans of food on the ground.

He waited a few more minutes, rocking on his feet childishly in his place, listening as hurried footsteps quickly descended the stairs, revealing Randal, who fell at the bottom of the stairs, hitting his face against the solid floor of the room. rug. The boy quickly got up and walked quickly towards her again.

"I'm glad to see you here, Y/N! What do you think of my house, the cats decorate it in a charming way" He greeted her by giving her a loud kiss on the cheek, staining her with drool, making her nervous in an instant.

She shifted anxiously in her place, looking at him again with a slight blush. "How are you, Randal?… And well… I don't know what cats you're talking about, but it's a pretty nice house." She spoke nervously, returning the small kiss on his face. Randal's cheek, more delicately, leaving a small mark of lip gloss on his face.

"Hmm… I see, well, it doesn't matter, you'll see them later. Are you hungry? My brother Luther knows how to cook excellently, we were just going to have lunch" He invited, taking her hand, intertwining their fingers, dragging her to the kitchen. She shivered as she felt the coldness of his rough, calloused skin, and she tightened her grip and followed him timidly.

They arrived, and he saw Luther (who did not know how he had gotten to the kitchen, if he never saw him pass through the living room again) cooking, it looked and smelled like meat stew, but not just any stew, it had a strange but pleasant smell. . She stood next to Randal and remained silent, listening to the brothers' momentary conversation, immersed in her thoughts, remembering that 'tender' kiss the boy gave her.

Half an hour later, when the food was almost ready, two men arrived who could perfectly have been twins, both with somewhat long hair cut in the same way, but of a different color, wearing strange hats that looked like ears. of some domestic animal, and casually strange clothes. After they arrived, Randal left for a moment "Wait here, Y/N, I'm going to bring my other pet so you can meet her and we can all eat together" The girl nodded strangely, she didn't remember having seen animals yet, but Even so, I was not going to reproach anyone present for anything.

Sitting down, after about two minutes of waiting, Randal arrived dragging a boy who was equally skinny, but pale and noticeably nervous, who, upon seeing her, tensed up, as if he were shouting for help with his eyes, noticing her constant trembling. "Well, this is Sebastian from Tomato Smitch Chicken Legs, but just tell him Sebastian, Luther gave it to me for my birthday, doesn't he look cool?" She introduced and explained how she was wearing glasses to the girl, who in her seat paralyzed, nervous and surprised, with fear running slightly through her veins.

"Ahm… Well… Hello, Sebastian…" He greeted quietly with a trembling voice, raising his hand slightly with a grimace that wanted to be a kind smile.

She saw how the boy did nothing, and just stared at her in fear and with cold sweat running down his face. After a long time, everyone was sitting at the table, with a plate full of food in front of them, she talked to Randal at times, who caressed her hair and gave wet and noisy kisses on her cheek and forehead on occasions, even going so far as to give her a kiss. small kiss on her neck, being immediately removed by her and her brother Luther, who did not want his 'cats' Nyon and Nyen (who had been introduced to him after Sebastian before he forgot them) to witness strange scenes, before their eyes.

Her head was beginning to hurt from nervousness, her face flushed at the signs of affection from her friend, Sebastian's insistent look silently asking for help, the other murderous look that Nyen gave her every time Luther spoke to her or looked at her, the indifference of Nyon and Luther. That day, especially, in that house, he was going to be so long that his hair was beginning to stand up with anxiety.

Well, I know it's very short (for what I like to write) and it doesn't make much sense, but come on, NOTHING makes sense in Ranfren, and it's something I did in a hurry, because I have like five drafts right now, but still, hope you like💔🥹.