#stop drop and get blasted away

[nightfal1n]

Days left until chapter 112:

19 days

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various recent pictures of things

[luvsupa]

I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAMMM!

summary: whatever you do, do not fuck mr.ghostface!

tags: ghostface!geto x fem!reader, naoya mention .., set in the 90s and inspired by fear street!!, smut, ōral sex (m and f receiving), knife play, slightly mask kink, humiliation kink, exhibitionism kinda, death, mentions of blood, etc, mdni

w.c: around 3.6k (sorry I got carried away …)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.6K WAAAATTTT WE GOIN UPPPPP YEASSS

+ geto in tbis fic looks just like this fanart 🙂‍↕️

kinktober masterlist

you lean against the register, bored out of your mind as you scribble distorted faces on your company’s notepad. working a night shift sucks—especially a closing shift. you huff as the intercom blasts the latest rock song, a weak attempt to liven up the dead atmosphere. lately, the cd shop has been busy with customers buying vinyls, posters, and movies. ugh, it was so annoying having to scan the newest movie, scream. the line was always so long it nearly wrapped around the whole building!

you glance out the glass front doors, scanning the empty, dark streets, genuinely debating whether you should close two hours early since no one is coming. your attention shifts as you hear the bell ring, indicating a customer entering.

ugh.

your smile drops when you see naoya, your annoying coworker who flirts with you in the weirdest ways. he’s always condescending and putting you down until you found out from another coworker that he’s actually attracted to you. he walks toward you, standing in front of the register as if he were a customer. you honestly forgot he was still here after he said he would take a ‘five-minute’ break an hour ago.

“you don’t get paid to draw, now do you?” he says, leaning over to grab the notebook. you let him take it, but he rips the page clean, crumpling it in his fist. gosh, you hated when he acted like the manager. “anyways, I’m clocking out! must suck having to stay for another… two hours!” he laughs, glancing at the clock above. he giggles as he walks behind the counter into the bright red font ‘employees only’ room, leaving you scoffing in annoyance. you waste time fixing the decorations on the register as every minute drags by.

ring!

your heart stops when you hear the company phone ringing. who the hell calls at this hour? you pick up the corded telephone and force yourself into a professional tone.

“thank you for calling cursed tracks, how may I help you?” you say, lazily watching over the store. there’s a long pause, and your brows furrow. is this a prank call?

“hello—”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you burst out laughing, doubling over at the blatant prank call. there’s no way. it’s beyond cringey that you would be a victim of ghostface’s evil scheme. tears roll down your cheeks as you hang up the phone, your laughter still ringing in your ears. but then, you stumble backward, colliding with something solid—no, someone. your laughter halts as you slowly turn your head, gulping hard as your eyes drop in horror. screaming in genuine fear, you see him: ghostface, knife in hand, just like in the movies.

you stumble back into the counter, panic rising as you cry out, cornered in the booth. he drops his hand and bursts into laughter, and your brows furrow in confusion. he lifts his hand to remove the haunting mask, and embarrassment floods over you.

seriously.

“naoya, that wasn’t funny,” you snap, shoving him away as he continues to laugh uncontrollably. “you— you should’ve seen your face! I wish I recorded this— we would’ve been stars!” he wheezes, still amused as you find none of this funny. he continues to mimic your reaction, and you bite your lip to keep from lunging at him.

“stop wearing display costumes, asshole! you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you scold, turning away as he playfully bonks your head with the fake plastic knife. irritation washes over you.

“jeez, naoya— just leave already, you’re ruining my alone time,” you say coldly, clearly annoyed by his antics. you hear his footsteps retreating to the employee room, allowing you to calm down from his stupid joke.

you lean against the counter once again, watching over the store in boredom, your eyes feeling heavy as each minute passes. maybe you should really quit- you’re not getting paid enough for this. you roll your eyes at the ruckus coming from the room behind you—nayoa’s making way too much noise.

bastard, you mentally insult him.

you close your eyes to rest them, feeling exhausted from the long shift when you suddenly sense someone standing behind you. your eyes shoot open, and your heart drops again as you turn around to see nayoa in that damn ghostface costume.

“very fuckin’ funny, naoya,” you scoff, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. he’s breathing heavily under the mask, staying still as if waiting for your reaction. you turn to yell at him, but the words choke in your throat. your eyes drop to the knife he’s gripping in his hand, and it looks too real—dripping with what looks like blood. your breathing quickens as you glance at the fake plastic knife that naoya left on the counter, your eyes twitching in disbelief.

“o-okay, naoya, you’re scaring me.”

“darling, who’s naoya?” the male voice says, distorted through the mask’s speaker. tears rush to your eyes as you see blood seeping from under the employee room door.

you step back, your back hitting the counter, trapping you just like before when nayoa scared you. the male steps closer, tears spilling down your cheeks as fear overwhelms you; you can’t call out for naoya—he’s fucking dead!

without thinking, you attempt to jump over the counter, but before you can touch the ground, you feel yourself being yanked back by strong hands. you squeal at how fast he moves, pinning you against the wall with one hand holding you in place and the other gripping the sharp, bloody knife to your throat. your eyes widen, the blade too close to your artery. if you looked up at the popcorn ceiling. you’d see the end of it—your life flashing before your eyes.

“oh pretty, you were just acting like a big girl,” geto coos, his voice soft yet terrifying. the grip on the knife loosens slightly as he pulls back his head, and your eyes remain shut, fear washing over you.

“y’r sooo fuckin’ nasty, huh,” geto comments, and your brows furrow as you stare at the creepy face behind the mask. he chuckles, and you follow his gaze down—oh fuck. you wish your body wasn’t reacting on its own! you’re grinding your hips against his knee placed between your thighs, your rhythm so subtle you didn’t even realize.

“let’s test how nasty you really get.”

those were the last words that echoed in your head as he had you behind the counter, knees grinding against the freezing floor, your jaw aching from the relentless thrusts. his thick cock slammed into your mouth with brutal force—so deep that you swore you could feel him in your chest, the bulge in your throat visible as he used you mercilessly. both of his hands gripped your head with brutal force, his long fingers tangling in your curly locks as he fucked your face like a filthy fucktoy. his groans, muffled by the infamous ghostface mask, sent shivers down your spine, the hollow black eyes staring soullessly at you as he threw his head back in ecstasy. the obscene sounds of wet gags and sloppy suction filled the store, the mess overwhelming—drool and spit spilled uncontrollably from your mouth, coating his shaft and dripping down your chin, soaking into the front of your work shirt.

your nose repeatedly slammed against his crotch, the rough patch of his pubes tickling against your skin, making you tear up even more. the strain in your jaw was unbearable, his fat cock stretching you wide, each thrust so forceful you thought your jaw might snap. but you kept your grip on his jeans, fingers digging into the fabric as your throat was pounded raw. his heavy black boot was wedged between your legs, you couldn’t stop grinding on him. each roll of your hips against his boot sent delicious friction through your core, and you were drenched, your panties soaked through your pants, sticking to your swollen folds. the slick sounds of your cunt rubbing against his boot mixed with the wet slurps coming from your mouth, each grind making you moan pathetically around his cock.

geto’s head dropped down to watch, eyes behind the hollow mask taking in the sight of you—a filthy, drooling mess on your knees with his cock buried so deep down your throat that a bulge swelled in your neck. drool poured from your lips in thick strings, and your hips moved desperately against his foot, grinding on him like you couldn’t help yourself. but he didn’t let you keep going. his movements stopped abruptly, and with a harsh yank, he pulled your head back off his cock, making you gag and cough, gasping for air. the sound of your desperate choking echoed through the store as strings of spit connected your swollen lips to his twitching tip, your eyes wide with lust and tears. the sight of you, completely ruined in your leggings, face soaked and pussy grinding against his boot, only made him harder, his cock throbbing in front of your face.

“you jus’ can’t help it, can you?” geto growls, his voice thick with cruel amusement as he grinds his boot harder into your cunt, your soaked panties doing nothing to dull the friction. the pressure sends jolts of filthy pleasure up your spine, making you cry out pathetically, your body writhing against him. his grin stretches behind the ghostface mask, those empty black eyes staring down at you, drinking in your desperation.

in a single, brutal motion, he rips you off the ground and slams you onto the counter, CDs clattering to the floor around you. your legs fly up, bent and spread wide, exposing you to him completely. his eyes rake over your body like you’re nothing more than prey. with a harsh tug, he rips your pants off, tossing them carelessly behind him. the moment his gaze lands on the soaked crotch of your panties, your clit twitches in response, your cunt clenching involuntarily, knowing what’s about to come. the fabric is practically see through now, drenched in fear and filthy arousal, and it only makes his smirk widen behind the mask.

your eyes are glossy, chest heaving as your legs stay bent up, thighs trembling with anticipation. you should be terrified, and you are—but the heat pulsing through your core is undeniable. the sight of him towering over you with that eerie mask, black eyes hollow and unfeeling, does something sick to you.

without warning, geto pulls a another knife from behind him, the blade gleaming dangerously in the store light. you gulp hard, a whimper escaping your lips as he waves it inches from your face, the cold steel sending a wave of fear coursing through you, but it only makes your cunt throb harder.

“don’t move,” he whispers darkly, dragging the tip of the knife down your neck, making your skin break out in goosebumps. the blade hovers over your chest, your nipples hardening as he traces your curves. he presses just enough to remind you of its sharpness, enough to let you know he could cut deep at any second. the threat lingers in the air, the thrill of it making your thighs tremble.

he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches your shirt. with a quick flick of his wrist, you hear the rippppp of fabric as the blade slices your work button-up clean open, exposing your bare chest. the sharpness of the knife cutting through the material like paper sends a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine.

“cheap shit,” he sneers, but the way your nipples perk in the cool air has his cock straining even harder. his hand moves lower, the tip of the blade dragging dangerously over your trembling stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

you gasp when he finally reaches your panties, the cold metal resting against the swollen lips of your pussy. “y’know. . .” he trails off, voice thick with lust as he presses the flat of the blade against your clothed clit, the cold, sharp edge making you jerk involuntarily. “never had someone so . . .desperate in their final moments.”

it’s humiliating how your clit twitches at the contact, how your cunt clenches around nothing, soaked and aching for him. he notices, of course, the way your hips twitch toward the blade, and the wetness that’s already beginning to drip down your thighs.

“fuckin’ embarrassing,” he mutters, but his voice is laced with something darker—he’s getting off on this, on how soaked you are for him. the knife slides lower, grazing your inner thigh, just shy of cutting you, the scrape of the blade against your skin sending shivers through your body. you can feel your pulse in your clit, each drag of the cold steel only making you wetter, more desperate.

“this turning you on, baby?” he asks, his voice low and mocking. you can’t even respond, too lost in the filthy heat coursing through you.

with a quick flick of his wrist, the knife slices through your panties, the sharp blade cold against your slick folds. you gasp, your pussy finally exposed, clit twitching as the cool air hits your drenched core. the knife grazes your swollen lips, barely a whisper of pressure, but it’s enough to make you moan, your cunt clenching desperately.

he hums in approval, staring down at your glistening pussy, the wetness dripping from your folds, thighs trembling as you lie there helplessly. geto’s exposed cock twitches painfully at the sight, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he drinks in how ruined you already are.

“fuckkk,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust. he lets the knife trail up, dragging it over your clit just enough to make you gasp, the cold edge sending waves of agonizing pleasure through you.

you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself, legs trembling with need, but he’s dragging it out, watching you suffer, savoring every filthy, desperate moan that spills from your lips. your cunt clenches again, dripping, aching for more, but all he does is graze the blade over your sensitive skin, keeping you on the edge, waiting for him to finally take what’s his.

without a second thought, geto rips off the ghostface mask, revealing his face in all its sinful glory. his long black hair cascades down his back, a few loose strands framing his face just right, giving him that perfect, messy look. your heart nearly stops at the sight—those silver piercings in his lower lip glint under the lights of the CD store. fuck. your breath catches as you realize just how devastatingly hot he is, a man who could ruin you in every sense of the word.

“f-fuck, mr. ghostface. . .you’re so fucking hot,” you moan, your cunt clenching involuntarily at the sight of him. he smirks, catching your reaction instantly, bringing the blade right back to your dripping cunt, but now it’s different—now you can see every twitch of that gorgeous smirk, every glint in his wicked eyes. nothing is processing in your mind at this point. you’re too far gone, body shaking as he holds all the power over you. he could do anything right now, and you’d let him.

geto leans in, inhaling deeply, letting your scent drive him mad before diving headfirst between your thighs. his lips find your cunt with no warning, devouring you like a fucking beast. his tongue plunges into your soaked hole with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds echoing through the empty store. your back arches violently against the counter, the cold glass windows around the store only barrier between you and the outside world. if anyone walked by and caught sight of this—fuck, you’d be fired in an instant. but the thrill of that thought only makes the heat in your core burn hotter.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, hands flying to tangle in his thick, soft hair, yanking him closer. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through your clit as you pull his head in tighter. mr. ghostface loves his hair being pulled—check! you think, feeling the way his body reacts to your grip, only making him devour you more ruthlessly.

his nose nudges your clit, adding to the torment as his tongue relentlessly works your insides, the metal ball of his tongue piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it’s so nasty, so fucking loud as he slurps up your juices, the slick sound echoing around the store. you can’t believe your body is making this much of a mess, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the counter beneath you. you’re losing it, completely undone by how he’s devouring you.

geto’s tongue is merciless, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he brings two thick fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in deep. the stretch makes your head spin, his digits spreading you open wide as his tongue continues to work your cunt. he groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending another wave of ecstasy through your core. the sensation of his tongue, his piercing, and his fingers all working together has you seeing stars, your walls clenching around him uncontrollably.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls against your cunt, his voice muffled but still dripping with arrogance as his fingers curl inside you, finding your sweet spot instantly. your eyes roll back, legs shaking uncontrollably as the tension in your belly coils tighter. your grip on his head tightens, forcing him further into you, needing more, more of that perfect, filthy mouth. his lips close around your swollen clit, biting at it just enough to drive you insane, while his fingers pound into you relentlessly.

you catch a glimpse of his face between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes fluttering shut as a moan slips past his pierced lips, his tongue flicking out to lick your slick from the corner of his mouth like he can’t get enough. he’s completely lost in you, ruthlessly making out with your cunt, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you feel your orgasm building, heat burning in your stomach, your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

“listen to how talkative she is,” geto sneers, a wicked smirk stretching across his face. without hesitation, his free hand grabs the store’s telephone, fingers working quickly to connect it to the intercom. before you can process what he’s doing, he presses the microphone right up against your drenched, sloppy cunt.

your eyes go wide in horror as the filthy, wet sloshing of your pussy echoes through the entire store. the slick, obscene sounds of your cunt squelching and dripping around his thick fingers fill the air, amplified by the speakers. every thrust makes it squirt, the embarrassing symphony of your slick coating his fingers making your stomach drop with humiliation. you’re completely exposed, the sound of your body’s desperate reactions bouncing off the store walls, reminding you just how nasty this is.

the wet slaps, the relentless gushing of your cunt, and the squelching noises leave you utterly mortified. It’s so loud, so filthy that if anyone were to walk by, they’d hear everything—and know exactly what a mess you’re making for him. every slick, nasty sound screams your shame, broadcasting to the entire store that you’re getting off to a literal serial killer!

“look at you,” geto chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “so fucking nasty for me. all this for a killer? huh? you like knowing what a filthy slut you are?”

geto throws the telephone, letting it dangle by the cord, before roughly flipping you onto your stomach. your feet barely touch the ground as your chest presses into the counter- bent over, giving you a full view of the empty store. his eyes darken as he takes in your position, biting his lip at the sight of your ass wiggling back, grinding against his hard cock. you can’t help but plead, your voice breathy and desperate.

“please, mr. ghostface, you’ve been sucha tease,” you whine, turning your head to watch him as he toys with his lip piercing, eyes fixed on you like he’s weighing his options. before you can beg again, he makes his choice—sliding his fat, mushroom tip past your dripping entrance. the stretch of his tip slightly burning but- oh it felt so good. your body jerks forward with the slow, agonizing thrust, his thick crownhead teasing innn and outttt of your needy, aching walls. you cry out, wanting—no, needing—more.

desperation overtakes you, and you try to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand comes down hard, swatting your ass. the sharp sting only makes your pussy clench harder, and you hear him tut in disbelief at how filthy you’ve become for him. “unbelievable how you’re this horny,” he sneers, gripping your hips tighter as if to hold you still.

“if you’re a virgin, just say—ahh,” you taunt- gasping loudly when his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his broad chest. his thick tip remains lodged inside your cunt, teasing you with how little he’s giving, yet how desperately you crave more.

he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “i’d love to stay and prove your point,” he purrs, eyes flicking to the front of the store, where the bright blue and red lights of approaching police cars flash in the distance. your mind is too foggy, too consumed with lust to understand what he’s hinting at. “but baby, your little coworker—the one you never bat your pretty lashes at,” he continues, his tone darkening as his grip tightens around your neck, turning your head toward the ‘employee’s only’ door.

that’s when you see it—the large, dark puddle of blood seeping from under the door, your coworker’s lifeless body hidden from view.

“i-i don’t care, i wan’ you,” you plead, tears stinging your eyes as your walls grip his girthy tip, trying to coax more from him. geto chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he turns your head back toward the front of the store, where the police cars are getting closer. his hand slips away from your neck, leaving you trembling as he cruelly pulls his cock from your addicting cunt, leaving you empty and desperate as he swiftly tucked it back in his pants.

tears spill from your eyes as you feel him slipping away, denying you what you need. “he’s the one that ruined our fun,” geto says, his voice soft but menacing. “and sadly…” his words trail off, and you freeze as you feel the cold tip of a sharp blade pressing against your neck. you gulp hard, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sets in.

“’m really sorry, baby, but i can’t have you snitching to the police, can i?” he whispers, and with a swift motion, the blade slices cleanly across your throat. blood trickles down in a warm line, your breath catching in your chest as your body collapses to the floor. the cold tiles beneath you feel distant as your vision blurs, the last thing you see is geto standing above you, pouting as he watches the life drain from your body.

[ifwdominicfike]

chicken tenders

“the best part of my day is when i get to see you naked.”

summary - chris has been stressing this entire week, meetings have piled up while also trying to maintain filming and keep up with his brand. all he wants right now is to see you.

switch!chris x switch!reader

you were on chris’ mind the second he woke up, he hadn’t seen you in about a week due to his busy schedule. he was growing frustrated, mentally and sexually, he would call you here and there to ask how your day was but he wasn’t really listening.

he was too lost in the sound of your tired voice from your long day as you told him what was going on, letting out small hums to let you know he was “listening”.

(flashback to yesterday..)

“and so thats when i tell her that- chris are you okay?” you had heard a soft whine from the other line “y-yeah m’fine, k-keep going ma. m’listening don’t worry..” his face turning red from almost getting caught, hand still wrapped around his cock waiting for you to continue your story “oh ok.. well anyways-“

“o-oh fuck!” he groaned, forgetting you could still hear him. “chris are you-?” you giggle “please ma, n-need you so bad baby.. haven’t been able to see you in so- fuck! so long” he lets out a shaky breath as his hand never stops its movement.

“yeah? need me that bad you’re willing to jerk off to my voice thinking i wouldn’t notice? you’re pathetic chris”

thats what got him, the degrading words pushing him over the edge. all that can be heard from his end is small cries and whimpers with your name thrown in between “fuck. y-you’re killing me baby, can’t wait to see you..”

(present day)

chris was excited for today, some of his meetings got pushed back a couple of days ahead which gave him some time to see you. not right now though, he still had to go to the warehouse to sign cards that were gonna be put in merch drops and still had a meeting or two to attend.

on the way there though he was fairly quiet, usually being his energetic self he would be blasting music throughout the whole car or picking on either matt or nick just because he was bored. “kid you there? hellooo!!” matt said waving his hand in front of chris’ face as they stopped at the red light. “what- matt get your fucking hand away from me dickhead” he pushes his hand away and scoffs “i was trying to ask you something, fucking idiot” matt said, clearly irritated.

“well what? im listening now.” chris grumbled “chris whats your problem? you’ve been acting like a moron this whole week” nick chimes in “probably cause he hasn’t seen his girl all week, s’that it chris?” matt says chuckling while the car starts moving once more.

“kid shut the fuck up already.” chris’ voice is now stern and serious “ooh that must be it” nick says laughing “can you both seriously stop talking, you’re fucking annoying.” he snaps at both of them.

“okay whatever kid just fix whatever the fuck you got going on there, m’not tryna have you moping around with us all day.” matt stated before pulling in to park.

chris was never known to be patient, always eager to have have what he wanted immediately. so when in the middle of a meeting he got a text from you he obviously opened it, not knowing that it was a photo of you in a white lingerie set with a following text saying “need you so bad baby :(“ he excused himself to the restroom and instantly called you.

you pick up immediately with a cheesy smile across your face “hey love!” your voice filled with innocence like you didn’t just get him hard in front of everyone. “y/n cut it out, im serious, right now isn’t a good time sweetheart” he said trying to keep his composure.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about baby, m’not doing anything..” you giggle “ma, please. just give me another hour and im all yours. please.” the desperation in his voice makes your thighs clench in need.

“well what if i want you now, you know i don’t like waiting” you let out a soft sigh, your hand begins to trail down to where you’re aching most. “y/n i swear if you’re doing what i think you are right now.” “don’t act like you don’t like it chris, bet you’re so hard right now, hm?”

“i’ll be there in a hour and if you keep up with this attitude you’re not coming at all tonight.” your thighs clench even more at his daring words. “ugh you’re no fun baby” you groan as he hangs up the phone.

he made his way back as matt and nick look at him annoyed, the meeting was already over and they were just sitting there waiting for chris. “do i have something on me? whats up?” he says checking his clothes and fixing his hair “you had us sitting here for forever, stupid fuck” nick says getting up “yeah whatever kid, are we leaving or not?” he makes his way out not waiting for the two behind him “kid walked out like he’s the one driving” matt said, making nick giggle.

the three were on the way home from a long day, matt was yawning every chance he got and nick was already asleep in the back, chris on the other hand though had a huge grin formed on his face.

“matt can you drop me off at y/n’s?” chris said looking over at his brother “yeah sure” he said with laugh following after “what are you laughing at?” chris said confused “nothing, just knew that was why you were acting like a baby today” “yeah whatever dickhead, just turn right here”

you hear a knock at the door, then suddenly your phone goes off, a text from chris. “im here ma” you smile and go to open the door, the second its slightly open chris barges in pinning you against the wall kissing you like he’ll never get to see you again.

he kicks the door closed and locks its before wrapping his arms around your waist, you can feel him through the rough material of his baggy jeans. fuck.

before you could even tell him something he has you over his shoulder in a tight grip before making his way to your room “someones eager” you say with a giggle.

“can’t believe you, sending me that picture in the middle of my meeting, such a fucking tease baby.” he pins you down to the bed, settled right between your legs before trailing his hands up your shirt (his shirt)..

finally shuffling you out of your clothes so you’re in nothing but that pretty lace from earlier, the tension between you two is making your stomach tighten and between your thighs wet.

him being fully clothed while you’re basically bare under him makes your head spin, wanting to see more of him you begin to play with the bottom of his shirt. “please chris, wanna see you..” you whine “yeah sweetheart? go ahead then, take it off” he smirks as you start to slip his shirt off, running your nails down his chest you feel him shiver. “watch it ma.” he warns as your hands go down further to his prominent bulge poking through his jeans.

“i need you so bad baby..”

“poor girl, so fucking desperate for m’cock.” the sound of his belt buckle clinking and his jeans ruffling off is the only thing consuming the silence between you two, he finally removes the only thing keeping you from seeing all of him and you can’t help but gawk at him. “got nothing to say now, huh? you know starin’ is rude mama.”

you roll your eyes and wrap your hand around him, stroking him at a teasingly slow pace. “just admiring you baby, y’so big..” you bite your lip and look at him through your lashes. “you’re so good fuck-“ he groans while fucking back into your hand, small whimpers leaving his lips encourage you to speed up.

“yeah? look at you.. fucking into my hand, y’that desperate?” your thumb smears the pre-cum around him, your lips make their way to his tip giving him small kisses.

“please-please mama” his hips begin to slowly move, trying to force more of himself in your mouth. quiet whines can be heard as you feel his heavy hands settle on the back of your head, you smirk and sit up before he can take things further.

“n-no baby please! i.. i wont touch you o-or anything-“ next thing he knows you’re on top of him and his back is against the headboard. “you need me that bad? look at you about to cry, all because you need to cum. fucking pathetic.” your voice harsh as you settle down on his lap, your hand caressing his rose tinted cheeks while he continues to squirm underneath you.

you lift your hips and begin to sink down onto him, a quiet hiss leaves your lips from the stretch — you grip onto his shoulders to stabilize yourself.

“shit-” chris’ grip on your hips tightens as he guides you further down onto him, your whines now being muffled as you dig your face into his neck.

“chris.. f-fuck”

“what’s wrong now pretty girl, what happened to that attitude you had a couple of minutes ago huh..?” his condescending tone making you squirm as you rock your hips trying to get some relief. your lips travel down his neck leaving open mouth kisses and bites the further down you go, drunk on the way his hands grip your waist and the way he feels inside you.

“j-just fuck me chris! ple-please” those words alone gives him all he needs to start thrusting up inside you, his tight hold on you lifting you up slightly. “c’mon pretty girl, cant let me do all the work yeah..” he teases you as his other hand comes up to grip onto your jaw, making you look directly at him.

you start to bounce up and down, your moans growing louder by the second each time you slam down onto him. chris wasn’t so quiet either — loud grunts and groans can be heard from him as mumbles of your name and praises leaves his mouth.

“good fucking girl ma, doin’ such a good job f’me sweetheart- fuck!”

your pace starts to slow down, the burning in your thighs starts to get too much for you. you make your way up to his neck once more, leaving your mark in various places that he will for sure see in the morning. the thought of the red and purple splotches traced around his neck and collarbones makes you clench around him.

your movements are barely doing anything by now, leaving chris to do all the work as you get closer and closer to coming. “always makin’ me do all the fucking work huh? greedy brat. always getting whatever she wants isn’t that right?” he taunts as he flips you two around, your legs on his shoulders as he starts fucking into you faster and harder.

“o-oh shit! fuc-fuck me chris please, m’so close baby please!” your babbles becoming incoherent as he hits that spot deep inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. “go ahead mama, come for me. take this dick ma, s’all yours.”

legs shaking as he continues to fuck into you, your hands grip his curls and bring him down to a sloppy kiss. needing to feel him in any kind of way what so ever, you pull back to let out a loud moan as you clamp down on him and release all over his cock. “theree ya’ go mama, goodd girl. my beautiful girl look at youu” he praises.

his groans getting louder tells you he’s close, trying his best not to come before you. he always made sure you came before him, in his words “gotta make my girl feel good.”

“where you want it ma?” “i-inside baby please!” he groans one last time as he feels you clench around him and that was his breaking point, he cums inside you with a proud smile slapped across his face.

his thrusts slow down as you both come down from the high, he starts to pull out before he hears you wince. “you good ma? did i hurt you-“ “no no baby m’fine just- a little sensitive” you give him a tired smile as you lay your head back feeling like you could fall asleep any second now “i fucked you that good then huh?” his smirk making you roll your eyes and throw the nearest pillow at him.

“chris if were not in that shower in the next 2 seconds you’re sleeping on the couch i swear to-” you say joking (half joking) “ok ok damn no need to get all bossy w’me ma, c’mon lets get you up” he’s now off the bed as he picks you up holding you like a baby. “you’re washing my hair i hope you know that” you tell him with a smile.

“yes i know that, when have i not?” he says confused as he smiles at you half asleep in his arms “my sweet girl, i love you so much” are his last words before walking into the bathroom.

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i finallyyy finished this fic omg. i hope you guys like it!! i love bringing dominic fike into any conversation i can. i feel like i could’ve wrote more but i had no real fics for chris.. anyways byee i love youu ᥫ᭡ !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @submattenthusiast @chrissv4mp @ellaapsworld @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @55sturn

[nereidprinc3ss]

stakeout

in which spencer reid and flirty!reader are stuck in a car together with nothing to entertain themselves but each other.

fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, they have little crushes on each other, some of you will not like reader, but spencer does, it’s all banter, lots of teasing, playful insults, jokes about handcuffing so suggestive jokes i guess, so cheesy, reader enjoys flustering spencer, written with earlier seasons spencer in mind a/n: bandages!reader and spencer are so back!! i missed them!! this is SOOO cheesy! cheesiest thing ever! thank you to the person who requested this!!! thank you for giving me an excuse to just write cheesy banter!!! yyyayyyy!!! ilysm

“I am so fucking bored. Am I allowed to say that?”

It’s exactly the kind of thing Spencer should expect you to say, and maybe when you first joined the team it would’ve made him squirm, but now as you drop your binoculars and give him a look, bored, head tilted to shoulder, like you're waiting to be entertained, he only shrugs. Your insouciance is one of the things you know he’s come to love about you and would probably never admit. 

“Who’s going to stop you?”

You bump his shin with the toe of your leather boot and he glances down only momentarily before he’s raising his own binoculars to pick up your slack. 

“You. You don’t like when I swear.”

Spencer makes a face that you can only see the bottom half of. His voice is strained with focus. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Where? The faces you always make. You’re a judgy little bitch, you know that?”

“I don’t judge you for swearing. Frequent and creative use of profanity is correlated with a broader vernacular and greater social intelligence.”

“Oh, shut up. Yes you do.”

“You’re punchy tonight.” The leather of your seat squeaks underneath you as you slide down and groan, loudly. Spencer grimaces as he reaches over, gently swatting your shoulder with the back of his hand. “You should try to be louder. They might not have heard you.”

Your jaw drops indignantly. “Wh—the house is like 300 feet away! They’ve been blasting music all night. And not even, like… good music.”

“What, you don’t like death metal?”

You give him a side-eye. “Do you?”

He shrugs, giving up on the binoculars. A strand of hair has fallen over his face. You fight the urge to fix it. “I don’t know. It’s loud. And grating. And incessant. It begs for attention shamelessly and tactlessly. I’m kind of used to it.”

“Watch your mouth,” you scoff. “It would be a shame if I had to ruin that gorgeous face of yours.”

Spencer smirks and shakes his head disapprovingly, cheeks dusted scarlet. 

“You just can’t help yourself.”

“Who could around you, baby? Look at the bone structure on you. And those sweater vests. Can’t believe you walk around like that. It’s distracting.”

“Baby?” He grumbles, like he’s utterly displeased, but the way he’s losing a fight against that smile tells you otherwise. You lean your head against the headrest, boring your eyes right into his profile and giving him the opportunity for some searing eye contact, should he take you up on it. But for some reason, he can’t seem to look away from the steering wheel. 

“Do you choose them just for me?”

There are those pretty eyes—on you for maybe a second before they’re darting away. He fiddles with the binoculars in his lap. It’s adorable how much he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this. Morgan once likened it to a cat batting around a mouse. Don’t play with your food, he told you. Take a little pity on the poor kid. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. 

But Morgan’s not here right now. 

“What?”

“Do you pick out your little sweater vests because you know I like them? ’Cause, you know—I also like when you just do a button up. The blazers, too. Those are sexy. But if I had to pick, it would be the sweater vests.”

You reach over to straighten out the grey one he’s got on right now, and he entertains your fiddling for only a moment before catching your wrist in a considerate hold. 

“Alright, can you—can you behave? Please?” He laughs. Unfortunately it makes your stomach flip. 

“Probably not. You could try cuffing me.”

“Or,” he begins, carefully pressing your own hand to your chest, “we could keep our hands to ourselves.”

You pout. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Where’s the fun in getting yelled at if Hotch has to come and unlock you because I dropped the key between the seats?”

“So it’s a maybe on the handcuffs?”

He falls back, eyes fluttering shut like you’re exhausting him, and offering you the perfect vantage point to admire that jawline of his. 

“Alright. Five minutes.”

There’s no way he’s actually taking you up on this. 

“Five minutes of what?”

His head rolls over his shoulder and he gives you a look of his own. “Of silence. I’m begging.”

Oh. 

Well then. 

You settle back in your seat and swing your own binoculars around by the strap. 

“You know, you’d be bored to tears right now if it weren’t for me.”

“I count myself lucky every day,” he says. And despite the sarcastic tone, you actually believe him. 

A moment passes, during which the bubbly tension of your shared repartee fades into a sincere comfortable silence. 

You kick your feet up on the dash. “How about I cuff you? Is that more your speed?”

You’re already grinning when he answers, not bothering to take your eyes off the house outside. 

“You are… astoundingly inappropriate.”

“Well a girl has to try, Spencer.”

[josephandrewstarkey]

beach fight - part 2

part 1 here

warnings: fingering, kind of public, cheating, mentions of ruthie, jealousy

disclaimer: making a part 3!! message me to b on the taglist <3

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

It had been a week since the showdown on the beach. Ruthie had ended up with a busted lip and bruises, and Y/N’s knuckles were still sore from that fight. Word spread fast, and now, wherever Y/N went, people whispered. She didn’t care. Ruthie got what she deserved. She wasn’t going to lose sleep over it.

Tonight, the Pogues were hitting up a huge summer party at a Kook mansion, and as expected, there were plenty of stares as soon as Y/N walked in. People threw shady looks, some even whispering to each other when they thought she wasn’t looking. But Y/N just rolled her eyes, keeping her head high.

“Let them talk,” she muttered under her breath as she entered the party, brushing it all off.

She quickly found Kie and Sarah dancing in the middle of the room, music blasting so loud you could feel the bass in your chest. With a smile, Y/N joined them, laughing as they pulled her into the rhythm. The three of them danced, their energy wild and carefree. Y/N threw back a few drinks, feeling the buzz settle in, making her forget about all the drama for a while.

Across the room, Rafe had been hanging around with Sofia, who tried to pull his attention toward her. She clung to his arm, making a big show of laughing at his jokes and trying to stay close, but his mind was somewhere else. Every time Y/N moved, Rafe’s eyes followed, unable to stop himself. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

It pissed him off seeing her like that—dancing with her friends, completely unbothered, like he didn’t exist anymore. Especially when she hugged Pope. That nearly sent him over the edge. She wrapped her arms around him, laughing about something, and Rafe clenched his jaw, jealousy burning in his chest. He hated that she could be so close to them.

“Rafe, you’re not even listening,” Sofia said, snapping him back to the moment, tugging on his sleeve.

He blinked, tearing his eyes away from Y/N for a second. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, clearly distracted.

Sofia rolled her eyes, frustrated. She knew where his mind was, and it wasn’t on her. “Why are you so obsessed with her?” she finally snapped, crossing her arms.

But Rafe ignored her, his gaze back on Y/N as she laughed and danced with Sarah and Kie.

Eventually, Y/N excused herself from the group to get some air. She walked away from the crowd, heading down one of the quieter hallways. Rafe didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, he brushed off Sofia’s protests and followed Y/N, his heart pounding as he watched her disappear around a corner. Sofia called after him, but he didn’t stop, too focused on catching up with Y/N.

Y/N had noticed him watching her all night, but she didn’t care. She had felt his eyes on her, burning holes into her, but she wasn’t going to let him ruin her night. Still, she knew him too well, and when she rounded the corner into the hallway, she leaned against the wall, waiting. When Rafe finally caught up, she raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Why are you following me, Rafe?” she asked, arms crossed as she subtly pushed her chest up, making sure he noticed. His eyes flicked down, staring at her for a second before meeting her gaze again.

Rafe hesitated, trying to come up with some excuse. “I was just heading to the basement…got some shit to sell,” he said, a weak attempt to brush it off.

Y/N scoffed. “There’s no basement in this house, Rafe. You really expect me to believe that?”

He dropped the act, knowing she wasn’t buying it. “I miss you, alright? I’ve been thinking about you ever since we broke up. It’s driving me crazy, seeing you with them.”

Y/N shook her head. “You don’t get to miss me, Rafe. You have Sofia now, remember?”

Rafe stepped closer, his voice low, desperate. “I don’t care about her. I never did. You know that.”

But Y/N wasn’t having it. “You made your choice. You chose her, Rafe. So why don’t you go back to her?”

He ignored her words, his hands already finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer. Before Y/N could push him away, he leaned down, kissing her neck softly, making her breath hitch.

“Rafe, stop,” she whispered, her hands on his chest, trying to shove him off, but her voice wasn’t as firm as it should’ve been.

“You still want me. I know you do,” he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing down her neck. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“You have a girlfriend,” Y/N said, trying to hold on to some sense of control.

“I don’t care about her,” he repeated, his voice husky, hands gripping her waist tighter as he pressed her back against the wall. “You’re the only one I want. Always have been.”

“Stop,” Y/N repeated, but it was weaker this time, her resolve slipping as he kissed her harder. Before she knew it, he was dragging her into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind them.

The moment they were inside, Rafe didn’t waste any time. His hands slipped under her shirt, fingers tracing her skin, and Y/N gasped, feeling the familiar rush she’d tried to forget. His lips crashed against hers as he lifted her onto the bathroom counter, his hands roaming everywhere.

She tried one last time to resist. “Rafe, you can’t…you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not you,” Rafe growled, pushing his hand into her shorts, finding her wet and ready despite her protests. Y/N’s breath hitched as he slid his fingers inside her, his mouth inches from hers as he whispered dirty things into her ear.

Y/N couldn’t think straight, the heat between them clouding everything else. Her body betrayed her, responding to his touch despite the voice in her head telling her to stop.

Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Sofia stood in shock, watching from the hallway as Rafe dragged Y/N into the bathroom. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her heart sank, anger and jealousy bubbling up inside her. JJ, who had been passing by, saw it too, his face twisting into a mix of confusion and frustration. Not knowing if he should tell the pogues about this.

part 3 here

taglist:

@carolina6677 @lovrsin @alayaaaahhhhhh @esquivelbianca

[moonchild9350]

Still Life and Nude Surprises

Summary: you need to prep for an art show and sign up for a class for extra practice. the model you’re assigned however turns out to be someone you know very well.

Pairing: best friend!Felix x fab!reader

Genre: friends to lovers au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: nude modeling, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mention of overstimulation, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, implied multiple rounds

Notes: another fic from when I was feral sorry not sorry lol this was fun to write though and it’s Felix so…. lol

If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"Hold still!"

You chastised the blonde who was at the moment wiggling around in his seat, his eyes focused on his computer screen as he blasted god knows what on the latest game he acquired.

"Y/n! Lemme just finish this round, then I'll do anything you say," he responded as he showed off his biggest pouty face.

You sighed, not being able to say no to that face. Felix smiled and went back to his game, his fingers tap tapping on the keyboard.

Felix is your best friend, he has been since you were neighbors as a kid. You've done everything together, from attending dances as each others dates, sleepovers as kids, endure heartbreaks, and even live within the same building as adults.

You couldn't live without him, your relationship going beyond your wildest dreams.

Now, you were trying to sketch your best friend as you were trying to improve your still life skills, preparing for an art show that you had signed up for. Everything was going well until he received a text from a gamer buddy, wanting to go for a round on a new game he recently started.

You set your sketch pad down and watched your friend as he scrunched his face in concentration, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he shot down enemy after enemy. It was pretty humorous to watch, as everytime he missed his target he'd scream "noooo!" before concentrating once more.

You knew it was a lost cause, understanding once he started gaming, it would be hours until he would stop. You gathered up your stuff, packing it into your bag.

You got up and walked over to Felix, ruffling up his hair, obscuring his view of the computer screen.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed as he blew his hair out of his face, the strands framing his face haphazardly as a result.

"I'm gonna go home, it's getting late. I"ll see you later ok?"

Felix took a chance and looked away from the screen to you, "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible model."

You chuckled and slapped his arm, the boy yelping at the sting. "No you're not, you just get distracted easily."

You continued to laugh as you walked to his door, listening to Felix mutter under his breath something along the lines of "that's not true."

Closing his door, you walked the few doors down to your apartment, dropping your bag on the hallway table. You really did want to practice your skills as the show was getting closer day by day and you were banking on using Felix to start.

You grabbed your laptop and plopped on the couch, propping your feet on the table in front of you. Opening up the search engine, you began to look for classes that you could attend to help you practice.

You came across a particularly promising site, the company offering a variety of classes from group sessions to private ones. You clicked on the private session info bar, as the prospect of it just being you and the model seemed appealing.

You noticed they offered private nude modeling sessions as well, your eyebrow raising in interest. This would be the perfect opportunity to study the human body and to improve your skills on drawing it.

The company had a few sessions open over the next few days which would be perfect as you were free. You clicked on the time slot for tomorrow's private session, your mind running over the pros and cons.

You've never sketched anyone nude, the prospect seeming a little embarrassing to you, but how would you get better if you didn't step out of your comfort zone? Plus, these models were trained for this, and it was with a reputable company.

The cost of the class wasn't much either, definitely within your budget. You filled in your information, whatever they asked for. Once done, your hand hovered over the book button, as you considered what to do.

"Fuck it," you said, bringing your finger down to press book.

A confirmation page popped up saying your session was successfully booked and they'd see you tomorrow. You let out a breath and closed your laptop.

This was really going to happen. You wondered if you'd have a male or female model, noticing there was no option to choose. Shaking your head, you decided not to think about the session until the time came, opting to go in with a fresh and unbiased mind.

You went about the rest of your night, prepping everything you would need for tomorrow. Settling into bed you pulled the covers up to your chin.

You were ready for tomorrow and whatever it were to bring.

--

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, the weather warm but not too hot. The walk to the art studio wasn't too far away, the building being within walking distance.

You were giddy with excitement, your anxieties gone about the details of the session. You texted Felix to let him know you would be occupied today and would be over later on. He didn't mind as he apparently had something to do as well.

You approached a chic building, the outer walls appearing old yet charming to fit the town. You opened the door and walked in, met with the scent only an art studio can provide, from the scents of paints to fresh canvases. The scent of coffee drifted in the air as well, as there was a fresh pot that seemed to have been brewed in the corner of the reception area.

You approached the front desk, greeting the worker behind it.

"Hi, my name is y/n, I'm booked for a private session at 10:30?"

The lady looked in a book on the desk, her manicured fingers running down the page to the appointed time. She tapped her fingers on the page, finding your name as expected.

"We have you all set, would you like to pay now?"

You nodded and pulled out your card. She took care of the payment and then smiled.

"Have a seat, someone will be with you shortly to take you to the studio."

"Thank you," you said, walking towards a comfy looking chair in the corner.

You sat down, cradling your bag to your side. The atmosphere was quiet, the occasional sound of chatter meeting your ears. You watched as people walked to and from, their focus on getting to their destination.

Not long after sitting down, a young woman appeared calling your name. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and walked towards her.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," you responded as you followed the lady down the hall.

She stopped at a door, the placard reading studio eight. It was more secluded than the other studios, the room being near the back of the hall. The lady opened the door and stepped in, you following right behind her.

As you crossed the threshold, you took in the surroundings of the room. It wasn't too small but not too big. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings, portraying various body types. Each painting was beautiful, the artist capturing the details of the human body in intricate detail.

There was a ceiling to floor mirror along one wall, the whole room visible in its reflection. In the center of the room, there was a chair next to a series of boxes, linen draped over it to make a makeshift bed. You eyed the stool next to an easel, which you assumed is where you would be sitting.

"So, this is where your session will take place. You have this space for four hours. If you need assistance of any sort, just press this button here and one of the staff members will assist you."

You followed her hand as she pointed to a blue button next to the door. You nodded and faced the lady again, waiting for her to continue.

"You have opted for a nude model for your session correct?"

"Yes, I have," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush at her question.

"They will enter after I leave. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can ask them to robe again, they will not mind. I think that's all. Any questions?"

You shook your head no, as everything was pretty straight forward.

"Great! Go ahead and get settled, your model will be in shortly!"

You thanked the lady and walked over to the easel. Setting your bag down, you began to pull out your sketch book and various pencils, setting them up accordingly. You sat on the stool, crossing your legs as you waited for your model to arrive.

It didn't take long until a different door than you came in opened, a person stepping in within the room. It was a flurry of movement as they walked into the room with their head down.

"Sorry, I'm a little late," the person said in a deep voice.

Wait...you knew that voice. Shocked, your head snapped up to look more closely at the person. You couldn't believe it, that person was...

"Y/n?!"

"Felix?!"

Your model was Felix? Your best friend? What the fuck?!

You were confused and shocked. Felix seemed to be as well as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.

You eyed your friend who was prepped in a white robe, the material seeming soft and cozy on his skin. His long hair was in a ponytail, framed away from his face, his numerous freckles on display.

"What are you doing here?" you asked in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing," Felix responded as he came closer to you.

"I uh...I signed up for a class to work on my skills since you know..." you said, your voice trailing off at the end.

The atmosphere was tense, neither one of you knowing what to do. You never expected to see your best friend here, especially since he never mentioned he modeled for an art studio...nude at that.

Felix nodded at your response, "I work here as a side gig...make some extra cash you know?"

You nodded, accepting his answer.

"Why did you never tell me you did this?" you inquired, curiosity getting the best of you.

Felix fiddled with the strap of his robe, his gaze anywhere but yours. After a moment he cleared his throat.

"Well, I thought you'd find it weird. I mean I'm naked in front of people and they draw me in the nude. How would I bring that up with you?"

He had a point. That would definitely make for an interesting conversation. Now the question becomes do you go on with the session? Sketch your best friend nude? You could make him keep the robe on.

"Do you...do you still want to proceed with this?" Felix asked, his hands gesturing toward the makeshift bed in the center of the room.

"I'm ok if you are," you said shrugging.

Felix cleared his throat, surprised at your answer. Recovering quickly, he said, "Of course."

You nodded and watched as he padded toward the bed, stopping in front of it for a moment. His hands went to the strap of his robe, his fingers fiddling with the knot before he stopped.

"You ok with sketching me nude?"

"Yes Lix, I've seen you naked before."

You really have and with years of being best friends, it was bound to happen.

Felix nodded before he grasped the strap again, this time untying the knot.

You watched as the knot fell away, the straps now dangling at his side. He brought his hands up, to grab the soft material and slide it off his shoulders. With a flurry of movement, he let the robe fall, the fabric pooling at his feet.

You gasped, your eyes glued to your best friend as he stood in the center of the room, his back to you. Taking the chance, your eyes roamed his back, taking in his muscular frame, down to his lithe waist, which you've always admired. You smirked at seeing his ass wanting to reach out and smack it.

Felix took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face you. You watched with bated breath as he now stood facing you, his eyes on yours.

Your eyes drifted down his torso, eyeing his nipples, the pinkish-brown buds perky in the cold room. You eyed him further down, down, down until you came to his pelvis, a happy trail of hair leading down to his cock.

You subconsciously licked your lips, your eyes glued to his soft cock lying amongst a smattering of hair, his balls hanging nice and delicate. You couldn't help but admire his cock, wondering how it would feel in your hands, how it would feel...

"Earth to y/n! My eyes are up here pervert!" Felix exclaimed while snapping his fingers to get your attention.

You snapped your eyes up to his face, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You definitely were just checking out your best friend, the feeling in your panties a little more wet than when you came in.

You cleared your throat and gestured toward the bed, "Umm, wanna get started?"

Felix nodded, "How do you want me?"

"You can just lounge on the bed for now."

Felix nodded again and sat on the bed, swinging his legs up to rest on the linens. You walked over to your best friend and stopped in front of him, your hands reached out. You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes asking silent permission to touch him.

"Go ahead, position me how you want," Felix chuckled.

You took his hand in yours and draped it across his face, his fingers dangling delicately on the side of his cheeks. You angled his head to look toward where you would be sitting. You looked at his legs, taking a breath before propping one of his legs up.

Once finished, you quickly took a step back, eyeing your work. Satisfied, you sat down on your stool and grabbed your sketch book.

You picked up a pencil and began to sketch, easily getting lost in your work. You looked up at Felix every now and then, to get some details solidified in your head before you translated it onto paper.

It was silent in the room, neither one of you speaking. It was not as awkward as you thought it would be, but rather comforting.

Time passed and you got more of your sketch done, the outline being nearly complete.

Felix was staring at you, watching your hands dance across the page, sketching his frame. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, admiring how you got lost in your work, that not even your best friend posing naked for you can distract you.

He loved how you let out a small smile when you got a detail just right or how you scrunched up your face and bit your lip when something did not seem right.

You were beautiful, that he couldn't deny and you were even more beautiful in this moment, sitting on a stool in an art studio underneath the dim lights.

Felix started to feel warm, despite laying right under the air conditioner, the feeling spreading down his belly and settling at his cock. He could feel the blood slowly fill out his cock, the appendage slightly harder than before, laying haphazardly against his pelvis.

He willed himself to breath, to cool down, not wanting you to see the effect you have on him. He could never live that down. He tried to look everywhere but your face, especially when your head was down. But to no avail, the feeling increased, his cock twitching slightly in response.

You looked up at your friend to get another look at his torso for shading the area on your sketch, but froze at what you saw. Felix seemed to be in turmoil, his breath shaky, his eyes darting everywhere around the room.

Your eyes traveled to his cock, noticing how it seemed to have hardened some since you last took a look at him. You thought you would feel embarrassed, however, you felt quite the opposite.

You lingered on his cock a little longer, a a pleasurable shock traveling down your body and straight to your core. You pressed your thighs together in response, feeling your slick slowly seep into your panties.

You cleared your throat and went back to your sketch, not wanting Felix to catch you staring, not let him know that you were aware he was hard while you sketched him.

Felix was turned on, that was the brunt of it. He tried to stop his reaction to you, but he just couldn't do it. He felt his cock hardened until it stood fully at attention, the tip pressing up against his pelvis.

It was torture laying there, only a few feet away from you, his cock so hard it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, relieve the ache, and maybe just maybe you could help him out too.

He watched as you lifted your head up once more, gasping at the state of him.

You were in shock, noticing now that Felix's cock was fully hard, the member seeming angry and red at the lack of attention it received. You could see something shiny glistening on the hairs littering his pelvis. You watched as a drop of pre-cum oozed from his tip, the liquid dripping down his shaft until it reached the hairs, getting caught in the thickness.

Looking at Felix's face, you could tell he was miserable, as he breathing was shallow and he was clenching and unclenching his hands. You knew he wanted to touch himself to relieve himself of the ache he was feeling.

"Felix?" you questioned, your eyes reaching his. "Do you wanna touch yourself?"

Felix's eyes widened at the question, disbelief written on his face.

"I'm..I'm sorry y/n, I just couldn't help it," he stuttered, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.

"It's ok," you responded with a smile. "You can touch yourself, make yourself feel good. I'll continue to sketch."

Felix stared at you for a moment more before he took his other hand that was at his side and placed it on his chest.

You watched as he gripped his aching cock and gave it a squeeze as he moaned lowly. He shifted his hand upwards, his thumb pressing on his slit before gathering up some of the leaking pre-cum.

He began to stroke his cock, steady but slowly, his fist reaching the base just to travel back up and circle around the head. Felix kept eye contact with you, your sketching forgotten, as you took to watching your best friend pleasure himself.

He increased the speed of his wrist movement, wet sounds from the aid of his precum filling the room. With each moan he let out, you felt your pussy clench over nothing. You were soaking wet, your panties stuck to your skin by now, your clit throbbing to be touched.

"Y/n," Felix said, his voice raspy as he continued to stroke his cock. "Can you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself for me?"

You looked into Felix's pleading eyes, watching as he licked his lips and swallowed. You didn't give a moments thought at your friend's request, instead ridding yourself of your leggings.

You stood before Felix, your fingers going to the band of your panties. You watched Felix's eyes drag to the piece of cloth, his eyes widening at the wet patch present on your panties, the material sticking to your skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as the outline of your lips could be seen.

You slowly slid your panties down your legs and set them aside. Felix let out a groan at the sight of your pussy, his cock twitching in his hand.

You sat back down on the stool and spread your legs, your wet folds separating to show him your entrance. He kept his eyes glued to your pussy as you brought a finger to your clit, flicking the bud and the rubbing it gently.

You sighed out as you dipped a finger lower into your hole, gathering your slick that was pooling there before bringing it back to your clit. You circled it gently, applying the slightest pressure, a jolt of pleasure causing your pussy to clench.

Time passed as you both sat there, eyes on each other as you pleasured yourself, the room filled with wet sounds and the mix of both of your moans.

You matched Felix's pace as he stroked his cock, harder and faster, his hips bucking up into his hands. You let out a whimper as you felt the tightening within your belly, the coil tightening, filling your core with warmth.

"Felix, m'close," you moaned as your fingers slipped and slid around your clit, your pussy getting wetter by the minute.

"Yeah? Cum for me? Will you cum for me like a good girl?" Felix cooed. "I'm close too, fuck."

Your breathing increased as the coil expanded in your belly, the feeling getting larger and larger until you tipped over the edge, your walls spasming, clenching down rhythmically as you rode out your high.

You didn't stop rubbing your clit, watching as Felix let out a groan as he bucked his hips, spurts of cum landing on his belly creating a painting with its pearly white sheen.

You pulled your hand away, the feeling of overstimulation settling in. You looked at your best friend, both of you breathing hard as you came down from your highs.

You chuckled as you noticed Felix was pretty much in the same position you put him in, his resolve at staying true to his role admirable.

"You um...you can keep sketching if you'd like," Felix said, his voice soft with uncertainty.

"We literally just got off together and you want me to continue sketching?" you asked incredulously as you cocked your eyebrow.

Felix cleared his throat, his body slighly shifting on the makeshift bed causing his softened cock to jiggle.

"Well...yeah, you paid and all..."

You stared at your best friend in disbelief. You hated that he had a point, you did pay a pretty sum to be here today. But here you were, nude from the waist down, your nether region a mess. You sighed and picked up your pencil, moving your hand to start sketching again.

There was silence once more as you got into the zone, focusing on shading in your sketch. You began to hum to yourself, adjusting yourself sligthly on the stool.

Felix returned to staring at you, watching you get lost in your work. He tried not to remember that you were naked waist down, your pussy seconds away from being on display if you decided to open your legs.

The thought caused arousal to seep through his body once more. He cursed silently as he felt his cock twitch. Why does he have to be turned on by you? He's never had this reaction before for any other client.

Maybe it was because they were strangers, people he didn't know, while you were his best friend, his life line.

He couldn't help it as his thoughts wandered, wondering how you would feel wrapped around him. He wondered how you would sound as he pounded into you, making you feel better than any of your little flings ever could.

He peeked down to look at his lower half as he silently groaned noticing his cock was fully hardened, resting against his belly once more.

You looked up to gather reference and noticed Felix's cock was hard, more of his precum leaking out and onto his belly. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight as your tongue darted out and licked your lips.

"Fuck this," you said, tossing your sketch book to the side.

You stood up and walked towards Felix, lifting your shirt up and over your head in the process. You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, your tits spilling out and on view for your friend.

Felix scrambled up quickly and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward him until you stood right in front of his face. He grasped your waist and smashed his lips to yours, letting out a moan as your lips moved with his.

Your hand reached down to grasp his cock, giving it a squeeze. Felix moaned against your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

"Can I fuck you y/n?" Felix asked with hope in his eyes.

You've both come this far, why stop now you thought.

"Sure," you agreed as more arousal gushed out of your pussy and onto your thighs at the thought of his cock filling you up.

Felix helped maneuver you onto the makeshift bed as he hovered above you. He spread your legs and pushed them upwards, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy, your slick coating your folds and dripping down your ass.

He brought his thumb down to press against your swollen clit that was peeking through your folds. You let out a whine at the sensation, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time y/n," Felix said, his eyes lifting up to your face.

"Me too," you confessed, your heart swelling at the thought that you both have liked each other probably for years.

He really was your person, your everything, and you would love nothing more than to give yourself fully to him.

Felix smiled down at you before swiping his finger over your clit again, watching as you wiggled your hips at his touch.

"I'm gonna give you my cock now," he grunted, grasping the appendage at the base.

He rubbed his cock through your folds, collecting your slick before pressing against your entrance, his eyes glued to how his head disappeared within your hole.

You mewled as he withdrew his cock just to press into your entrance again as he fucked you with just the tip.

"Felix, please," you whimpered, holding your legs open even more.

"Want my cock hm?" Felix asked, his eyes on yours. He watched as your mouth hung open, soft moans falling out as he teased you, spreading your folds open with just his head.

He was faring no better as he felt a shutter run through him, every time he sunk his tip within your warmth.

"Fuck me," you commanded, your eyes snapping open and staring Felix down.

You reached for his cock, your hand wrapping around the shaft. You wiggled your hips attempting to take more of his cock, ignoring how Felix was laughing at you.

"Ok, ok, don't get your panties in a twist," Felix chuckled. "Oh wait, you lost those hours ago, so desperate for my cock y/n."

Without any other warning, he slammed his hips into yours with a groan, sinking his length within your walls until bottomed out.

"Fuck, so warm and tight," he grunted as he began to thrust his hips into yours, withdrawing his cock just until he was all the way out and pushing back in.

You pussy clenched around him, the feeling of his cock stretching you out causing waves of pleasure to settle in your pelvis.

Felix grasped your legs, pushing them further to your chest as he pummeled his hips to yours, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He couldn't believe how tight you were, how your walls molded around his cock perfectly, like you were made for him.

His moans mingled with yours, as you both chased your highs. Felix licked his fingers and brought them back down to your clit, the digits slipping and sliding along the nub, causing shocks of pleasure to wreck your frame.

"Shit, I'm close, gonna cum. Can I come inside?" Felix panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Please, need your cum!" you whimpered as your pussy contracted at the thought of his cum within you.

Felix slammed his hips into yours once more before stilling, ropes of his cum flooding your walls.

"That's it, take my cum," Felix cooed as he continued to finger your clit.

You let out a loud moan as you came, your arousal seeping out of your pussy, coating Felix's cock as he thrusted his hips into yours a few more times to help you ride out your high.

Felix peered down at you, his eyes searching yours as you panted, your hands running down your body. He slowly withdrew his softening cock, his eyes glued to how his cum leaked out of your pussy, a smile gracing his face.

He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips once more as he whispered "I love you."

You carded your fingers through his hair, eagerly returning the kiss.

"And I love you Felix," you cooed.

You both laid there a little longer, exchanging soft kisses, neither one of you in a rush to move.

After a while, Felix perked up, mischief in his eyes.

"Wanna keep sketching? You still have another hour."

You smirked at the suggestion, knowing exactly where it will lead, and that was definitely ok with you.

"Sure thing, let's go for another round," you teased with a grin.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

[mellowmadds]

Casual Study Dates | Peter Parker

(MCU) Peter Parker/Fem Stark Reader

Warnings - slightly suggestive

Summary - Avenger’s compound a usually busy place hustling with activity seems unusually quiet for the day. leaving y/n and Peter in a sticky situation (pun intended)

Word Count: 1,237

°°••....••°°

Avenger’s Compound, a place that’s usually bustling with activities and combat training sometime’s has quiet days like this where super-powered humans who have insanely intense hearing can hear a pin drop from across campus. For you though being one of the youngest on the team you hated those days because it seemed as if everybody always wanted to see what you were up to. You weren’t necessarily an avenger but you were extremely smart and helped out around the lab and worked on some Stark Industries projects with your dad every once and a while. And that’s how you met Peter Parker and during those first two years of awkward conversations and study dates you two seemed to find some comfort in all that awkwardness.

“Are you nervous about MIT sending out their decisions soon?” Peter asked while getting comfortable on your bed while staring out at the beautiful city view.

“Why would I be nervous Peter? Most of my family are MIT Alumni.” You said a bit cocky if you really think about it.

“I- know it’s just I figured maybe you’d be experiencing the same nerves I was. It was a stupid question nevermind sorry” Peter stuttered out.

“You don’t have to be sorry Peter and you definitely don’t have to worry my dad put in a good word about you. You’re one hundred percent getting into MIT” You told him confidently.

You knew Peter was an anxious person and you’d do anything to take his nerves away.

“Now are we going to keep stressing about MIT or are we going to figure out these formulas that Bruce gave us to solve?” You asked while holding up the stack of papers labeled ‘Top Secret Formulas’.

Peter nodded his head yes while lifting his body off your bed to instead sit on the edge of the bed closer to your desk where all of your work was scattered across your laptop.

“But first I need to put some music on or else I won’t be able to focus” You said before sliding the miscellaneous papers off your laptop.

“That’s the Stark in you talking, how can you focus better with music blasting in your ears?” Peter asked while laughing.

“I guess you are right, that is a classic trait of my dads. But it just helps me focus better. I don't know, I can't explain it.” You turned on your playlist before flipping to the first page of the stack of formulas Bruce assigned you to solve.

Your speaker was loud but who cares it’s not like anyone cared or was listening everyone was off doing their own things. The first few songs were upbeat and fun but the farther you got into your playlist the more guilty pleasure songs started playing, but Peter didn’t mind he was blocking out the music anyways so he could focus better on the formulas in front of him. What you didn’t know was that Steve and Nat were standing outside your room listening.

“Knee deep where? doing what?” Steve said worriedly looking over at Nat.

“It’s just a song Steve stop being so old-school” Nat smirked back at him.

“But Peter’s in there with her, what if they aren’t actually studying?” Steve asked as any worried uncle would.

“The song is talking about having relations in the bathroom during dinner time, that’s not appropriate Nat” Steve said firmly not accepting any excuse now.

Nat wasn’t interested in continuing this conversation any further and started walking toward the living quarters where there sat Bucky, Clint, Bruce and of course Tony.

“What’s got you so tense Cap? Your boyfriends right here if you have to relieve some tension” Tony laughed making fun of Steve and Bucky’s unusual bromance.

“I think you should worry more about what your daughter and Peter are doing upstairs” Steve said, crossing his arms.

“What? What are you talking about Cap? His vigilant ass better not be corrupting my innocent perfect daughter” Tony angrily stated as his face turned a shade of red nobody expected.

“They are listening to a song about having relations in the car and bathroom” Steve said pointing upstairs to your room.

“And you didn’t shut it down the moment you heard that? What kind of uncle are you?” Tony asked running up the stairs to take a listen for himself.

“Oh my gosh the lyrics are filthy but it sounds so calming, how does an artist achieve that?” Tony muttered under his breath before harshly knocking on your bedroom door and bursting in unannounced.

“What’s going on here?” Tony yelled loudly only to be met with a view of you sitting at your desk and Peter sitting on your bed leaning against the headboard with a textbook and stack of papers sitting on his lap.

“What dad? We are busy figuring out the formulas Bruce gave us. Why the hell is everyone crowding outside my room?” You asked, pointing towards Steve, Bucky, Nat, Clint and Bruce all huddling in a circle outside your bedroom door.

“Well we heard the song you guys were listening to and were a bit concerned. You guys aren’t acting on those lyrics are you? You guys better not be under my roof” Tony questioned with a look of disgust on his face.

“What the hell are you going on about dad?” You asked looking over at Peter who looked like he'd seen a ghost.

“Are you guys having sexual relations?” Tony asked in disgust as your playlist suddenly skipped to the next song which would make your case even worse.

“Head so good, she's an honor roll she’ll ride your what like a carnival?” Tony repeated the lyrics.

“I am on the honor roll though, so it’s not entirely a lie” You replied back smirking like a smartass.

“This is not a laughing matter young lady, we are talking about something serious here, answer my question right now” Tony stated with a straight face not joking around anymore.

“Yeah we are and what about it?” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Y/n not in front of everybody” Peter said shyly.

“Who cares Peter they were going to find out sooner or later anyways, might as well just tell them now” You said looking back at everyone’s shocked faces. As you looked past your father behind him stood Bucky handing Clint a ten dollar bill.

“You guys had a bet going on about us?” Peter asked, looking back and forth between them but also keeping one eye on Tony just in case he might try to kill him.

“This conversation is not over and from now on this door stays open” Tony said sternly ignoring all the giggles and snarky remarks coming from his fellow avengers. Your playlist then starts playing a different song which lightens up the mood just a little.

“This one has a dance to go along with it, watch H-O-T-T-O-G-O it’s like the YMCA'' You said while doing the dance.

“I like doing the YMCA” Steve said, smiling now entering your room.

“Of course you do because you're ancient” Peter said jokingly.

As you can expect you didn’t think you’d be ending your day teaching Steve Rogers the Hot To Go dance however you wouldn’t trade the quiet days at the compound for anything because at the end of the day you’re just one big family and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[asapeveryday]

Breath Me In

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol

Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.

A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!

Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.

Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.

When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.

Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.

“So�� gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.

You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.

The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”

She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.

You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.

You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.

The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.

“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.

Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.

You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.

Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.

“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.

“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.

Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”

Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.

You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.

-

As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.

“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.

“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”

“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.

“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.

“Getting there. You?”

Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”

With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”

“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.

You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.

“Sure, why not.” You smile.

She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.

“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.

“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.

“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.

“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.

She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.

When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.

The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.

You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.

“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.

Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.

“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.

Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”

You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.

“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.

“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.

“Yeah.” You match her tone.

She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.

Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.

“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.

“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”

“Oh shit.” You laugh.

“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”

“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”

“Girlfriend?” She asks.

“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”

“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”

“Fuck no.”

“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”

“Like what?” You ask.

You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.

“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”

Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.

“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.

“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.

Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.

Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.

Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.

You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.

Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.

She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.

Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.

“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.

“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.

When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.

“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.

You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”

Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.

Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.

“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.

“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”

She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.

She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.

You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.

You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.

It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.

[moonyswoony]

Heart of the cleanse

Pairing: five hargreeves x reader

Summary: with the Keepers hot on your tail and the Cleanse raging, you and Five realise some things can’t say hidden forever.

Warning(s): making out, you and five being stupid.

You and Five had always made one hell of a team, your powers complimenting his abilities. While he blinked in and out of space, taking out enemies with surgical precision, you used your telekinesis to clear paths, shield him from objects, and hurl the occasional chunk of concrete at anyone who got too close. It was dangerous, chaotic, and more than a little terrifying, but it was also familiar. This was how it had always been, ever since you’d first met at the Commission all those years ago.

“Could you maybe try not to drop a building on me?” Five called over his shoulder, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he narrowly avoided a collapsing wall.

“Maybe if you didn’t keep blinking in front of the buildings I’m trying to drop on the Keepers,we wouldn’t have this problem!” you shot back, grinning despite the tension.

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the glimmer of amusement in his expression before he teleported away again. The banter was comforting, a slice of normalcy in the middle of the chaos. But even as you fought, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded and the way your breath hitched whenever he was in danger.

The truth was, you’d been holding onto these feelings for years, since your days at the Commission, when you’d been nothing more than coworkers thrown together by circumstance. Back then, you told yourself it was nothing, just the bond forged between two people who had each other’s backs in the worst situations. But now, as the world threatened to end, those feelings were becoming impossible to ignore.

As you blasted another chunk of concrete away with a wave of your hand, you realized that this might be your last chance to say something, If you even survived this. But there was no time for confessions, not yet. The Cleanse was intensifying, and you could feel the energy crackling in the air, making your skin prickle with unease. Five appeared beside you again, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“We need to get to the source of the cleanse,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Whatever’s causing the Cleanse, it’s at the center of the city. We have to stop it.”

You nodded, the seriousness of the situation pulling you back to the present. “Right. Let’s go.”

The two of you fought your way through the chaos, moving in perfect sync, just as you always had. But as you got closer to the center, you could feel the tension building between you, an unspoken weight that neither of you could ignore for much longer.

Finally, you reached the heart of the city, where the energy was strongest, and the ground was shaking beneath your feet. The air was thick with power, and you could feel the strain in every fiber of your being. Five stood beside you, his eyes scanning the destruction, searching for a way to stop it. But there was something else in his expression too, something that made your heart skip a beat.

He glanced at you, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was no noise, no destruction, just the two of you standing together in the midst of it all, just like you always did. “I can’t lose you,” he said suddenly, his voice rough with emotion. “Not now. Not after everything.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You’d always known that there was something between you, but hearing him say it out loud made it real in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You won’t,” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, Five. Not without you.”

His jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I’ve spent my whole life running—through time, from the Commission, from everything. But not from you. Never from you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. “Five…”

Before you could say anything else, he was kissing you.

You kissed him back with everything you had, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed your body against his. The world was falling apart around you, but all you could think about was him. His lips, his touch, the way he made you feel like nothing else mattered. The heat between you was overwhelming, like an all consuming fire.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping under your shirt to trace patterns across your skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as you arched into his touch, needing more, wanting everything.

His mouth left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver with desire. Your hands reached the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in him completely.

The kiss grew more intense, more heated, as the world around you faded into oblivion. The only thing that existed was the two of you, tangled together in a desperate, passionate embrace that left you breathless. His hands were everywhere all at once, touching, caressing, exploring every inch of you as if he couldn’t get enough.

You moaned his name, your voice shaky with desire as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressed together so tightly that you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest. He groaned in response, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was so deep, so intense, that it felt like you were drowning in him.

But even in the midst of the heat and the passion, there was a tenderness to his touch, a carefulness that told you everything you needed to know. This wasn’t just about lust, desperation or fear, this was about love, pure and simple. A love that had been building for years, silent but also loud, unspoken but always there , waiting for the right moment to be unleashed.

And now, as the world threatened to end, that love was the only thing that mattered.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you pulled back, both of you panting. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was something else there too, something deeper.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice shaky but certain. “I love you, Five. I think I always have.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as if he was trying to hold back his own emotions. When he opened them again, they were filled with a fierce determination that took your breath away. “I love you too,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m not going to lose you. Not now, not ever.”

You smiled through your tears, your heart bursting with love for the man standing in front of you. “Then let’s put a stop to this,” you said, your voice steady, filled with a determination. “Together.”

He nodded, his hand squeezing yours one last time before you both turned back to the chaos that awaited you. The world was still falling apart, but you knew that as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

With one last kiss, a promise of everything that was to come, you and Five launched into action, fighting side by side, just as you always had.

[messylustt]

dazed but not by the blood — hobie brown. longer name. cleaning hobie’s wounds and he can’t stop touching you.

he would have climbed through your window, his face littered with small cuts, a more prominent indent running through his eyebrow. you wouldn’t hear him at first, your head nodding along to the beat of a song, blasting through your headphones. breathing a fraction heavy, hobie would notice you, legs up and bent to your body, in a wooden chair. your fingers would tap away at your computer as you softly hummed.

he would step closer, a small side smile edging his lips as he leaned closer to your covered ear. moving your headphones aside he’d whisper. “i hope that’s not that monkey band you’re listening to.” your eyes would widen as your heart would drop to your stomach in fright, swiftly spinning in the chair to face a smug looking hobie.

but your words of scolding would die off upon seeing his facial injuries. your hand would reach out, gently touching a cut making him slightly wince. “hold on.” you’d whisper, getting up off your chair as you rushed to a cupboard, retrieving a small first aid kit. you tilt your head behind you, gesturing to the couch, as you take out alcohol wipes and plasters. hobie would understand, jumping slightly down onto the couch, as his legs spread comfortably.

his head would rest back, as he’d shut his eyes for a moment. but when you’d shift closer, kneeling in front of hobie and gently grabbing his face, his eye would open. at first he’d stare at your face, taking note of all the little details he’d always thought suited you so well. you wouldn’t notice his gaze at first, focusing on a cut by his cheek as you’d dab and wipe, teeth biting down on your bottom lip. at this hobie’s gaze would dart down, his eyes taking note of the redder colour you created by your bite.

when you’d tilt your head, hobie’s gaze would follow. catching sight of your tied up hair, strands falling out randomly. “ya hair looks nice tonigh’, babe.” he’d teasingly smile, his hand subtly reaching up to touch a loose lock. you shake your head, thinking his teasing is the truth. but he meant it. you did look really good, pretty in a way that made hobie’s finger tap at his leg.

“real pretty.” you were used to his almost ‘flirty’ words. he’d always acted like this. you had thought that it’s just his personality, when in actual fact every word he had said was every bit true, to the point that his hand — right now — started to shift from rubbing your hair between the pads of his slightly calloused fingers, all the way to your neck.

he’d just lightly tap your skin, feeling your pulse beating. in all honesty you hoped he couldn’t feel it quicken. you began to shift to the deeper cut on his eyebrow. “you know, you could make this into a feature.” you say, trying to distract your mind from hobie’s wandering fingers. they had begun to draw patterns along your bare collarbone, making a small shiver run up your spine.

“hobie?”

“yeah, luv?” but his tone sounds distant, his gaze focused on the top of your chest, your skin now beginning to litter with goosebumps. you gulp, finally moving to the last cut — one that dragged down his lip. you had to shuffle closer. and as you did, hobie’s thighs widened, leaving you room to kneel between his legs.

your hand held his chin, directing his face how you needed as you dabbed his cut lip. “stop smiling. I can’t touch you up when you do that.” you say. but then you feel two large hands languidly slip around your waist, making it unintentionally arch. his cold rings dragged across your skin, making your breathing hitch. hobie noticed the sound, now purposefully slipping his hands under your shirt to slowly rub along your lower back.

“hobie.” you say, a slight warning to your tone. what was he doing? “shh, keep working.” he said. he leant further back, partially bringing you with him, as you had to lean a fraction over his body to reach his cut lip. “i don’t have to help.” you muttered, seeing hobie’s amused expression.

his hands had moved so that they slid inside your back jeans pockets. he wasn’t moving, having found the position — with you nearly draped over him — rather comfortable. “hobie.” you feel like you’ve said his name too many times, but it’s hard for you to touch him up like this. he tilted his head. “mm…so…pretty.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[rueclfer]

saturdays are for the blondes // fratboy smau part one

a/n: i love my blondies (bakugou's n hawk's will be out later whenever i feel like making those) *also written under the cut*

denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, hawks

"You in there?" You call out, harshly knocking on the bedroom door over the blasting music still echoing throughout the house.

The door swings open to reveal Denki's flushed face holding a bloody wadded paper towel up to his nose.

"Hey cutie." He nasally squeaks out, stepping out of the way so you could enter. "Came to check in on your knight in shining armor, huh?"

"Hey yourself. Just wanted to admire the damage." You tease, closing the door behind you, muffling out the music.

You follow him to his bathroom where you see multiple others of used paper towels and bloody droplets in the sink, making your stomach turn.

"Looks like a warzone." You grimace. "Let me see." You motion for him to move his hand away his face, revealing a smudged line of dried blood dragged out from his nostril and redness spreading across his nose bridge and into the area right under his eye.

You reached up and grabbed his chin, moving his head side to side to see the damage done.

"How's it looking?" He mutters, looking down at you with a slight smirk on his face.

"The bleeding stopped and it doesn't look broken to me. You may or may not wake up with a black eye, but if you keep it iced you should be fine." You pat the side of his face before dropping your arm. "Your face is still cute, so at least there's that."

"You wanna kiss it better?" He takes a step closer to you, leaning in to let his arms stretch out against the bathroom sink, trapping you in on both sides.

You two were at eye level now, faces only inches away from one another. With his backwards baseball cap and his messy blonde hair peeking out from the front, cropped t-shirt, and alcohol running through your system, his offer was tempting.

"You think you'll survive if I don't?" You laugh as the heat rises up to your ears.

"No, I don't think so. You've been avoiding me all night too, so my feelings are wounded too." He fake pouts.

"So sensitive, pres." You teasingly coo, darting your eyes to avoid his lidded stare. "I guess I do kinda owe you, don't I?"

"Mmhm." He hums in agreement, moving his hand from the bathroom counter to your lower waist, playing with the hem of your shirt. "Only if you want to, of course. I can always catch another beating for you at the next party.

"I'm still gonna be on the invite list after that? You must really like me."

"V.I.P. list and everything, baby. I'll fight a million more guys and take a million more beatings for you." He chuckles.

"You really do know how to swoon me, huh?" You bring your hand up to his cheek, brushing your thumb over the tender area darkening and swelling with every minute.

"Even when you love playing hard-to-get." He mumbles, reaching his hand up to the side of your neck as you lean in to softly kiss the bruise. "I know you better than anyone."

"You piss me off more than anyone else, too." You mutter against the soft flesh of his cheek.

"That's just the fun of it." He moves his hand down to his chain hanging from your neck, letting a finger loop onto the end of it, pulling your body in closer. "Sleepover tonight?"

"Nope." You popped the 'p'. "The girls are waiting for me downstairs to walk back to our apartment."

"Boo." He whines. "When can I see you next?"

"I dunno. The next function?" You shrug, reaching around the back of your neck for the necklace clasp. "You can have this back too."

"Wait no no." He grabs your hand away. "Keep it and give it to me next time. Please."

You sigh with a hint of a smile on your lips, dropping your arms. "See you next time then, pres."

"Next time, sweetheart."

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: you use numbing gel on wanda, and she punishes you for it with some gel of her own.

content warnings: smut, fingering, numbing gel, sensitivity gel, overstimulation, subspace

word count: 5.7k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Retaliation

Silence. 

You were so sick of the fucking silence. 

Honestly, you loved your girlfriend. She was the best part of your life, the most important person to you and the one you knew you’d marry… but her work days were long. And you were so fucking bored. The silence that filled the large house you shared was only temporarily broken by your music, blasting from your speaker as you worked. Or the sound of the TV, loud enough to be heard from the kitchen as you meal prepped. 

But eventually, the speaker would die. Or you’d get bored of whatever show you were watching. Then, the silence would creep in, reminding you of the emptiness that crowded you. Then, you’d start to think about your girlfriend. 

God. She was the best thing that had ever happened to you. 

You’d met her almost a year ago. You’d been bored in a bar, your friend dragging you along to some fancy work party of hers. She was off talking to some important people or something, and your social battery had died a long time ago. 

Someone had gently touched your shoulder, and you’d turned around in surprise. Your eyes met sparkling green ones, taking in high cheekbones and soft auburn hair, and you’d fallen in love immediately. 

Wanda Maximoff was perfect in every way. Doting, attentive, communicating with you every day. She was soft and commanding, her touch gentle yet firm. She was the light of your life, the only person you fully trusted in every aspect. She was absolutely the best girlfriend in the whole world. 

She was also your dominant, so when she ordered you to do something, you listened. 

That week, she had just so happened to order you not to touch yourself while she was at work. It was only Thursday, and you were slowly losing your mind. You’d finished all your chores, including some extra work around the house just to keep yourself busy, but it wasn’t enough. 

So here you were, four in the afternoon, laying on your stomach on the bed. Scrolling through your phone, finding nothing interesting enough to hold your attention. 

“Fuck.”

Sighing, you threw your phone down, dropping your face onto the comforter. You felt like throwing a tantrum, or breaking her rules and sending Wanda a video or picture of you masturbating. She would be pissed, but maybe she would punish you with overstimulation. At least then you’d actually have some relief from the ever-present ache between your legs. 

Your phone pinged, an email coming through. That got your attention, and you immediately perked up as you quickly snatched your phone up. Unlocking it, you smiled widely at the notification. 

‘Your order has been delivered.’

Leaping up, and almost tripping over yourself, you made your way downstairs. Your footsteps dully thudded on the carpet as you raced towards the front door, and you swore under your breath when your shoulder caught on a door frame. Shaking it off, you continued towards the entrance of your home, stopping yourself with your hands on the door before unlocking it. As you caught your breath, you peeked through the curtain, gripping the door handle as you ensured the delivery driver was making their way back to their truck. 

Wanda had drilled a rule about deliveries into your head. 

‘Don’t open the door until the driver is gone. It’s not safe for submissives to open the door when a stranger is nearby.’

A door slammed shut, and you jolted out of your thoughts. Watching closely, you smiled as the delivery truck drove away, slowly counting to ten in your head. As soon as you reached ten, you unlocked the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing as you caught sight of the small package resting innocently on the doorstep. 

Scooping it up, you quickly closed the door, locking it behind you. Checking the time, you noted that you still had around 45 minutes before your girlfriend would be home. 

Perfect. 

That was just enough time for you to hide your new package next to the other toys Wanda kept in the playroom. It also gave you the chance to hide the packaging in the outside garbage. Wanda would never find it, since it was part of your chores to take the trash out.

Mentally patting yourself on the back, you raced to hide your package. 

This was going to be a fun night. 

—

If Wanda had noticed your badly concealed excitement, she didn’t acknowledge it beyond a simple raised eyebrow. 

You were practically vibrating, your eyes shining as you took her coat and kissed her gently. Her hands lingered around your waist, fingers skirting over the silky material of your skirt, dipping slightly below the waistband as she smirked.

Wanda was touchy. That was always a good sign. 

You eagerly took in the sight of her, your imagination not quite good enough to conjure up the magnificent beauty in front of you that you got to call your girlfriend. Honestly, between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows and her long fingers currently curled around your waist, it was hard to not melt into a puddle of goo whenever she was around.

Her clothes were still pristine even after a long workday, not a single wrinkle in her dress shirt or blazer. You wondered how she managed that, or how her hair was still as soft and curled as it was when she left this morning. 

“Baby?”

“Oh, sorry. Did you say something?” You shake your head, clearing it as you look up from your pasta. 

Wanda’s green eyes sparkle with amusement. She takes a bite, her lips wrapping around her fork. She maintains eye contact as your grip goes slack around your own utensil, eyes watching her glossy lips as she drinks from her wine glass.

“I asked if you had a good day, sweetheart.”

“Oh- I… well, yes.” you manage, clearing your throat as your sentence dies. 

Another raised eyebrow, and an expectant look. Those lips are on the rim of her wine glass again. You want to touch them, to feel them against your skin as she nibbles and sucks her way towards your lips. 

God, you want her tongue too. You want to feel it dragging across your stomach, making its way to your chest and swirling it around your nipples. Her plump lips wrapping fully around them as she sucks, her eyes dilated and needy. Your neck, damp from the warmth of her mouth as her tongue drags up, your head thrown back from the sensation against your most sensitive spot. 

“Sweetheart,” Wanda’s voice is hard, her hand gripping your thigh under the table. “Focus when Mommy is talking to you.”

You wince, feeling her nails digging into your skin. 

“I’m sorry Mommy,” you trail off, casting your gaze back onto your plate. Eye contact made you nervous, and Wanda’s green eyes had a way of reducing you to a stuttering mess. 

“Don’t mumble.”

Wanda’s fingers squeezed once more - a reminder to behave - before they disappeared. Her fork clinked against her plate, and you smiled as she ate. You knew that she loved this dish, and when she was happy and relaxed, she normally allowed you a bit more freedom in the bedroom. 

That’s all you need. A little bit of leniency. 

—

Your body is on fire. Wanda’s hands run over your waist, over your chest, and up the sides of your neck. Her fingers leave trails of scorching fire across your skin, your core throbbing with need. Her lips slide smoothly against yours, her tongue gently swiping over them as she presses you against the wall. Her body is fully against yours, her hips pressing into you as she grinds her hips against yours. It is almost enough to make you break.

‘Focus.’

Gasping for air, you gently press against Wanda’s sternum. She pulls back, her lips swollen and red, eyes dilated as they search yours. Her fingers twitch, still gliding across your skin as she kneads your body beneath her palms. 

Shuddering, you slow your breathing, reminding yourself of your mission for the night. 

“Wanna try something,” your words come out breathy, and not at all commanding like you were hoping. 

Wanda’s eyes bounce between yours, her hands stilling around your waist.

“What did you have in mind, baby?”

“Can I show you?” Your eyes light up, hands eagerly touching Wanda’s face. Your fingers trace her cheekbones, running over her jaw as she thinks. “Please?” You add, letting the word drop into a whimper at the end. 

Even Wanda can’t resist that. 

You look so desperate, your eyes pleading as you gently guide her towards the desk. Pulling out the chair, you usher her into it, kissing her deeply as her hands attempt to pull you onto her lap. You resist, tucking her hair behind her ear as she furrows her brows. 

“Just let me try this, Mommy. I promise it’ll be fun.”

Wanda’s green eyes are dark, the warm light from the lamp casting shadows over her sharp features. Her hands fall to her lap, head turned towards you as you reach into the desk drawer, having prepared your supplies earlier in the day. She can’t help but smile, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek as you determinedly grab the items you’d stored. 

Turning your wide eyes towards her, you take in your girlfriend. 

She’s relaxed, her fingers gently caressing your face while her other hand is loosely gripping your waist. Her eyes remain sharp, assessing everything around her. They linger around your arms, her head tilting as she attempts to see what you’re holding behind your back. 

You cluck your tongue at her, gulping at the raised eyebrow she sends back.

“Close your eyes,” you try to sound commanding, but you see the faint smirk Wanda wears as she slowly closes her eyes. “Please,” you add quickly, not wanting to face unnecessary punishment later for your lack of manners. 

Wanda lets out a quick huff of laughter, her hands squeezing your waist. 

With one hand, you reach towards her hand, bringing it in front of you and squeezing her wrist briefly to silently tell her to keep it there. You do the same to the other, watching her face carefully. 

Those perfect eyebrows furrow slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she fights the urge to open them. 

You act quickly, securing a cuff around one wrist as her eyes fly open. You grip her other arm tightly as you strap the second cuff around her other wrist. Pulling slightly, you test the strength of the restraints, the soft, thick leather comfortable around her wrists.

“Darling,” Wanda begins, and you smile nervously at her. “Think very carefully about what you’re doing.”

You lean in, pecking her on the lips gently. “I know what I’m doing, I promise.”

Pushing gently, you move her wrists behind her back. Wanda is completely still beneath you, her body rigid as she allows you to maneuver her to your will. Her eyes are locked on your face, and you avoid any eye contact, knowing your confidence will shatter the second you meet those knowing green eyes. 

With a click, you secure her cuffs. You’ve effectively restrained her, and you pull back as she tests the strength of the cuffs. 

Wanda’s brow furrows even more when she can’t escape from her restraints, her muscles flexing as she attempts to pull herself loose. You can tell she’s seconds away from ordering you to release her. 

“Baby, I need you to let me-” 

You slap a hand over her mouth, your eyes widening. If Wanda gave you a command, you would cave immediately. You couldn’t let that happen. 

“Let me take care of you, okay?” Your voice was pleading. You could hear the whine at the end of the sentence, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Wanda’s eyebrows raised, and you quickly removed your hand. 

“Alright,” she began, adjusting her weight until she was seated more comfortably. You tried not to salivate at the effortless display of power. God, she was strong. “Remember, pup. I’m in charge.”

Nodding quickly, you place a quick kiss on Wanda’s lips. You almost forget yourself, lingering as her lips press gently against yours, her tongue quickly swiping over yours. You could kiss her for hours, soft moans escaping you as Wanda effortlessly slides her plump, soft lips against yours. 

The chair scrapes against the floor as you stand. Your hands are gentle, eyes questioning as you unbutton her pants. 

Wanda nods, and you smile brightly. Pulling her pants down quickly, you let your fingers linger on her thighs, feeling her muscles tense and twitch beneath you. God, you could already smell her arousal. You slowly peel her damp underwear from her, watching the shiny juices coat her pussy as you remove the offending garment. 

Drinking in the sight of her, your pupils dilate. Wanda can hear your soft pants as you resist the urge to taste her, your fingers shaking slightly as you dig into her thighs. She rolls her hips, just slightly, and you seemingly snap out of your daze, snapping your head up and standing. 

The abrupt action has Wanda’s eyes narrowing, her posture tense as you walk towards the dresser. 

Opening the bottom drawer, you pull out a black tube. 

Wanda relaxes, recognizing the discreet packaging as sensitivity gel. She takes in your stance, your fingers excitedly opening the tube as you put on a black latex glove. Smiling, Wanda remembers your aversion to any type of liquids, gels, or creams on your hands. She’s never even seen you use lotion on your palms, instead, you would rub the back of your hands together whenever your knuckles grew dry. 

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Wanda watches you squeeze out some gel, smearing it on your fingertips. Her eyes lock on yours, watching the way your brows tighten and furrow in concentration, your eyes glancing up at hers every so often. 

Your fingers prod gently at her, and Wanda has to hold back a moan as she feels the cool gel against her warm, swollen pussy. She can hear her ragged breaths, her fingers clenching as she tries not to rut against your hand. 

A wide smile spreads across your face, and Wanda has the good sense to let some suspicion cross her mind. She tilts her head and watches your eyes widen at the action. 

But then, your fingers are circling her clit, smearing the gel all over it, and a moan escapes her treacherous throat. 

“Baby,” Wanda begins, feeling warmth gather in her abdomen. 

Two fingers thrust into her, and Wanda forgets how to speak. Your eyes are sparkling as you look at her. There’s something behind your eyes, something Wanda can’t quite focus on. She can’t discern what the unreadable look you're giving her means and blinks in an attempt to focus. You curl your fingers, and she throws her head back in pleasure, forgetting about it in an instant. 

The sudden roughness of your fingers pulling out of her draws a soft whimper from her throat. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Your voice is soft, and Wanda narrows her eyes at you as she attempts to get her breathing back under control. The fingers that were buried in her a few moments ago now rub her clit, your eyes watching her face carefully. 

Something isn’t right. 

Wanda rolls her hips again. She can feel the pressure of your fingers against her and hear the sounds of her arousal as you work her clit… but there’s only a faint prickling sensation. It feels almost cold - as if that entire area has fallen asleep. 

Last Wanda had checked, there was only one way to make that happen. 

“Darling,” Wanda growls, her eyes dark. “I need you to be very honest with me.”

You gulp, your fingers still moving. Wanda’s hips are still, her attention focused solely on you. Her body isn’t responding to your touch anymore, and you slowly withdraw your hand as you take off your glove.

The tension in the room feels like a bowstring drawn too tight, Wanda’s eyes on you sucking the very air from your lungs as she works her jaw. You hear the sound of leather rubbing against skin and know that she’s attempting to escape from her cuffs. The danger in her expression makes you want to grovel and beg for forgiveness almost as much as it turns you on. 

“That gel,” Wanda watches your eyes widen as she speaks, a guilty look appearing on your face. “Was it numbing gel?”

Her voice is low and quiet, but you hear every word. You can hear your frantic breaths as you search your head for an excuse, an answer, anything really. Anything but the truth.

Looking up, you meet her eyes. 

They search yours, her head tilted slightly as her gaze unrelentingly locks with yours. The air crackles with anticipation, heavy with the weight of your unspoken words. With each passing moment feeling like an eternity, you search for the right words. They’re on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken, but trapped under the weight of Wanda’s gaze. 

She’s waiting, her eyes demanding acknowledgment of her question, yet also challenging you to disobey her. It’s a deliciously delicate balance between mercy and dominance, and you feel yourself crack under its weight.

“Yes, Mommy.” 

Wanda’s eyes turn stormy and you watch her chest heave as she attempts to calm herself down. Her hips twitch, and you can tell she’s fighting the urge to roll them. It wouldn’t matter if she did, you’ve ensured that everything is completely numb. She won’t be feeling any sensation for a few hours. 

Standing, you feel a surge of power. You’re looking down at her, meeting her frustrated gaze as her arms flex. She keeps trying to pull her hands free, her feet planted on the ground in an attempt to gain some leverage. Wanda’s lips are partially open, glistening as she breathes quickly, her green eyes slightly watery as her frustration builds. Catching sight of her spread legs, you watch in awe as her arousal smears over her inner thighs and down onto the chair.

God, she looks so pathetic.

You move to sit on her lap, acutely aware of her eyes following your every movement. Feeling your legs spread as you do, you smile when her eyes flit down towards your chest. You’d left too many buttons undone, and you arch your back slightly as you hear Wanda make a low noise in the back of her throat.

“Don’t tease.” Wanda’s voice is tight, sounding like she’s holding back a storm. Her words are clipped, each syllable heavy with warning.

Smiling, you lean in. Your mouth brushes her cheek as one of your hands moves to grip the back of the chair, the other sliding in between your bodies, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Whatever Wanda was going to say in response is swallowed by a gasp as you crash your lips against hers. You can tell that she wants to be upset and deny you any pleasure to punish you for misbehaving. But then her tongue moves smoothly against yours and you swallow her soft moan, and you know that you’ve won.

Moving blindly, your fingers find Wanda’s warm, slippery pussy. Two fingers slide in easily, curling as you begin to slowly pump in and out of her. 

Wanda doesn’t react. 

You smile into the kiss, maneuvering your thumb to rub harshly over her protruding clit. Normally, Wanda would jerk and gasp slightly when you stimulated her sensitive bundle of nerves, but not tonight. 

That gel was working almost a little too well.

Teeth bite harshly into your lower lip, and you suddenly find yourself struggling to think properly. Wanda is unforgiving, sucking your lip into her mouth as you moan, your fingers faltering against her. 

Wanda might not be able to feel anything, but her pussy knows that it’s being stimulated. You can feel her juices soaking your fingers, running onto your hand and down your wrist as you thrust into her. It’s intoxicating, and you feel your own underwear dampen significantly as you grind yourself onto her lap. 

“Fuck,” You whisper, feeling Wanda’s small smile against your lips. 

You’re focused, the sensation of her slick pussy clenching around your fingers holding all of your attention. The sound of leather and skin barely registers in your mind, your senses overwhelmed by the smell of Wanda’s vanilla perfume and the feeling of her lips fervently moving against yours. 

God, you think you could last in this moment for an eternity and never be unhappy. 

A hand wraps around your throat. 

Eyes flying open, you barely register the victorious look on Wanda’s face before she’s lifting you off her lap and throwing you onto the bed. The leather cuffs dangle from one of her wrists, her other slightly red from her efforts to escape. There’s a thunderous look in her eyes, and you find yourself slowly backing up on the bed as she advances. 

“You can’t run now, baby.” Wanda’s voice is low and there’s a small smirk on her face. 

She keeps advancing, her head tilting. 

You freeze in place, watching as she makes her way towards you. Her deft fingers quickly undo the cuffs from her wrist, her grip strong as she grabs your arm. 

Swinging a leg over your hips, Wanda straddles you. Her thighs clench around you, and her hands grip your wrists tightly. You don’t fight it, your body refusing to relax as you watch Wanda with wide eyes. Her fingers make quick work of the cuffs, tightening them around your wrists and attaching them to the headboard as you squirm slightly. 

“Did you really think you could get away with it?” Wanda asks, her eyes boring into yours. 

A flush makes its way onto your face, your nerves on fire. Adrenaline floods your system, the thrill of being caught racing through you. You quickly shake your head, eyes widening when Wanda erupts in soft laughter. 

“Stupid pet,” She mutters, removing herself from you as you watch with wide eyes, feeling your core grow warm at the degrading words. “You should know that Mommy always wins in the end.”

Your jaw works as you try to formulate a response. You can’t think of anything, a foggy haze coming over your mind as you watch Wanda. 

Soft footsteps reach your ears as you watch your girlfriend quickly make her way toward the closet. She disappears, and you hear her rummaging through the drawers. You throw your head back, breathing deeply as you control your nerves. 

You were so fucked. God, what were you thinking? 

Pulling against your cuffs, which Wanda had secured to your wrists extremely tight, you rethought your decisions. The numbing cream had been a great purchase, truly. But actually using it on Wanda? 

Worst possible decision. 

The doorway darkens, and you feel your mouth go dry when you see Wanda’s silhouette. Your eyes drag down over her body, the curve of her nude waist and hips sending you further into an arousal-driven state of mind. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were drooling for her, your hips rolling slightly as you catch a glimpse of the thick, scarlet strapon now tied around her hips. 

Her fingers wrap around a familiar-looking tube, the design eerily similar to the numbing cream you had purchased. Looking closer, however, there were numerous differences. The end of the tube was wider, and the dark pigment of the packaging was more matte than the numbing cream. 

You feel the color leave your face. Your legs close of their own accord, a spark of fear traveling down your spine. 

Wanda smirks. 

Reaching out, your girlfriend quickly grasps your ankles, pulling your legs apart roughly. There’s a warning look in her eyes, and your brief struggle against her ceases immediately. The last thing you wanted to do was make her even more frustrated than she already was, although, judging by the look on her face, you were failing.

“Don’t test me,” Wanda’s voice is tight, a sign of her growing ire. “You’ve already earned a big fucking punishment.”

A low moan sounds out. 

Your eyes widen at the sound as it escapes your treacherous throat, along with Wanda’s. A smile slowly begins to form on her face, one of her hands slowly moving towards the apex of your thighs. 

“You must really like the idea of being punished, is that it baby?” Wanda asks, her voice soft. Her fingers are anything but gentle, swooping through your slick arousal as she harshly flicks your protruding clit. “Do you get off on the thought of me being mean to you?”

Wanda’s other hand drops the bottle of gel onto the comforter, her fingers grasping your jaw tightly when you attempt to hang your head. 

“Nuh-uh,” She clicks her tongue, forcing you to look at her. “Dumb sluts don’t get to hide after they tease Mommy. Answer the question, honey.”

A strangled whimper claws its way out from your chest, a shaky exhale accompanying it as you nod your head to the best of your ability. Wanda’s grip on your jaw doesn’t falter, but she feels your attempt, her eyes darkening. 

“You really are a masochist,” Wanda mutters, releasing her tight hold on you. “I love it.”

Your eyes light up, relief cascading through you at her words. Then, you remember the compromising position you’re in and the situation you’ve created. Your elation fades, eyes watching every movement Wanda makes. 

Nimble fingers quickly open the bottle, the minimalist logo of Wanda’s favorite brand of sensitivity gel flashing in your vision before she squirts a generous amount on her fingers. The lid closes with a click, and the bottle is thrown somewhere onto the bed. 

“Now this,” Wanda begins, smearing the gel messily over your pussy. “This gel is purely for my entertainment. You and I both know that you’re already desperate and needy enough that my touch alone could send you over the edge at any moment.”

Two of her fingers rub the gel onto your clit, the rough stimulation causing your legs to jerk. Wanda pauses, looking up at you. Her eyes are dark, the green of her irises barely a sliver around her dilated pupils. Her face is set, a dangerous, almost predatory look taking over her features. 

“Stay still.”

Immediately, you feel your body comply. Your muscles feel as though they’re made of stone, your breaths shallow from the effort it takes to not squirm as Wanda mixes the sensitivity gel with your juices.

You feel a tingling sensation start, the barest brush of air against your bulbous clit sending electric pleasure straight to your core. Your pussy feels both enlarged and sore, the need to cum overtaking you in an instant. 

The ache. Oh, god. The fucking ache between your legs. It consumes you, every errant thought in your brain evaporating as you find yourself unable to focus on anything but the throbbing heat at your core. 

Wanda looks up, hearing your rough breathing, her eyes widening in pleasure at the sight of your heaving chest. You look absolutely wrecked, your cheeks flushed as sweat drips down your temple. Your eyes are wide and unfocused, your pupils expanded so severely they look like endless black pits of ink. 

“You look pathetic.” 

Biting your lip tightly, you suppress the wanton moan that threatens to erupt at Wanda’s words. 

She doesn’t seem to notice, moving onto her knees between your spread legs and wrapping her hand around her strapon. A mixture of your arousal and the gel glistens on her fingers, and you feel yourself throb as you watch her lewdly stroke herself.

Teasingly, and agonizingly slowly, Wanda lines the tip of her strap against your clit. She presses in slightly, the barest hint of pleasure sending your head reeling. You feel like you’re going slightly insane, the need for stimulation forcing a stream of words from your lips. 

“Please, Wanda. I’m so sorry, I’ll never trick you like that again. I promise. I need you so bad, Mommy. I’ll be the perfect little toy for you, just please fuck me. Fuck me with your big strap, you can go whatever pace you want I just… I fucking need it. Please.” You end your begging with a whine, your words breathless. You don’t care. “I’ll do anything.” 

In one smooth motion, Wanda buries her strap inside you. 

“Mommy's going to fuck you until she can feel pleasure again,” Wanda says harshly, grabbing your throat and squeezing lightly in warning when you squirm. You try to protest, your nerves feeling as though they’ve been lit on fire as you shake beneath her. Wanda doesn't let you. 

“No baby, shut the fuck up and take it, I've got to punish the brat out of my good little girl."

Then, she’s finally moving. It feels like absolute heaven, her strap dragging roughly against your walls as you clench around her. Wanda adjusts her hips, the tip of the toy hitting your G-spot with each thrust, and you blink stars from your vision. 

Any functional part of your brain has completely abandoned you. Your chest bounces with each rough slap of Wanda’s hips against you, the strap disappearing and reappearing quickly as it’s coated with your juices. 

The scent of your arousal fills the room, the air heavy as you suck in desperate breaths between frantic moans. Your body feels like a live wire, muscles taut as your legs spread wider. 

Wanda grips your ankles firmly, her strength surprising you. She moves, pressing your legs against your chest as her strap fucks deeper into you. With how hard and fast she’s fucking you, you’re impressed with her stamina and ability to maneuver you into position. 

Pleasure and pain morph into one, endless sensation. Every nerve pulsates with need, a symphony of conflicting sensations as Wanda relentlessly, almost ruthlessly fucks into you. Her eyes pierce yours, holding your gaze captive as she works you closer and closer to nirvana.

The very fabric of your reality seems to shift and bend, every sensation smothered with a surreal hue of an indistinguishable mixture of pleasure and pain. Your mind feels fractured, floating in a fuzzy embrace even as Wanda’s sharp thrusts splinter your mindscape. The thrum of your frantic heartbeat reverberates throughout your body, matching the throbbing of your clit as Wanda’s pelvis presses against it with each harsh movement. 

Your orgasm creeps up on you, feeling every bit like a death march. 

In the back of your mind, you know that Wanda won’t take mercy on you. She won’t stop using you until she’s completely satisfied, until… What had she said? Oh, that’s right. Until she could feel sensation again. 

If you were correctly remembering the description and online reviews of the gel you’d bought, Wanda wouldn’t be feeling anything for a couple of hours. 

A particularly harsh thrust has your thoughts halting instantly. Your mind focuses, the need to cum overtaking your senses as you feel every inch of Wanda’s strap buried inside you. Your swollen pussy clamps down around her, your clit throbbing with need as she relentlessly fucks into you. 

The sounds of your soaked pussy reverberate around the bedroom, spurring Wanda on. She can feel your sticky arousal smearing over her thighs as she steadily plunges the strap inside your greedy pussy. 

Watching her strap disappear into your tight, eager heat only serves to motivate Wanda. A surge of motivation surges through her veins. Her thrusts have a renewed energy, her movements almost frantic as she fucks into you with abandon. Throwing her head back, she loses herself in an intoxicating surge of power, one hand wrapping around your throat. 

You feel your back arch, pussy spasming against your will. Wanda’s fingers tighten, just barely, but it's enough to send your frazzled body over the edge. 

Every synapse in your body fires, your senses overwhelmed by the cascading waves of pleasure as they sweep through your limbs forcefully. Your body trembles, Wanda’s strong hands pinning you down as you attempt to escape from the violent aftershocks of your orgasm. Her fingers skirt down your sides, gripping your hips and leaving trails of electricity in their wake. 

“Oh, god. Its-” You stutter, feeling Wanda’s hands press your hips full into the mattress, immobilizing you. “Too much, Mommy.”

The words sound slurred, Wanda’s green eyes trapping your attention. You want to float away, your mind wrapping itself with vanilla-scented cotton as your ears ring. 

A coiling feeling, spreading throughout your core. Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your mind barely tethered to your body.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Wanda’s gentle voice washes over you. 

The unbearable tension in your abdomen tightens, spreading blazing tendrils of fire throughout your being. Your tears escape fully, sliding down your cheeks as you register Wanda’s smile, the intensity of her gaze sending you over the edge again. 

You’re barely retaining your grasp on reality, your mind firmly in subspace as a vanilla-tinged fuzziness encapsulates your thoughts. 

“Fuck,” Wanda mumbles, looking down. 

Following her gaze, your eyebrows rise as you watch her glistening strap slip out of you. Strings of fluid web between the toy and your overheated pussy, and you belatedly realize that it's your cum. 

Damn. 

Wanda moves, bottoming out as her strap easily slides into you. 

Black dots dance around the corners of your vision, another orgasm washing over you as liquid-hot pleasure flows through your veins. You barely register Wanda’s soft voice, your eyes rolling towards the ceiling as you feel her pull you closer with each thrust of her hips. 

The pleasure is unrelenting and strong. It ebbs over you like an endless tide, threatening to smother your mind. With each pulse of pure ecstasy, you feel your consciousness teetering on the edge of oblivion, the thin line between reality and euphoria dimming into nothingness.

Green eyes capture your attention, Wanda’s face appearing fuzzy around the edges as your senses are finally overwhelmed. You feel your body and mind succumb to the intoxicating bliss washing over you as Wanda continues to use your overworked body. 

A final, shuddering breath and you slip into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness, your mind firmly wrapped in thick layers of vanilla-tinged pleasure.

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

You just moved in the house next door to Bucky’s and when he welcomes you to the neighborhood, he completely forgets what he was going to say cause he’s stunned by your beauty and he eventually asks you if you want to hangout with him and Steve which you immediately accept🥰

Never Been More Sure

PAIRINGS: Construction Worker!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: FLUFF, overworked reader, reader needs a break, loud music. Grumpy Bucky

WORD COUNT: 1,644

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

His grip on the hammer tightens as he hears the base from the house next door increases.

“Jesus,” he mutters, Bucky looks at his watch as see that’s it three in the afternoon. He then looks at Steve, “who the hell would be listening to music this loud at this time of day?”

Steve looks up from the blueprints and squints his eyes at the house next to the one they’re working on and hears the bass he’s best friend was talking about. “Dunno man,” he shrugs.

The house flipping project was not knew to Bucky’s experience, but it was albeit different from his usual construction work, but when the man who own the company, who also happens to be his best friend, tells him he needs some help, Bucky’s up and ready to help.

He enjoyed renovating the house, but what he did not enjoy was the loud music playing from the house next door.

It would always be the same playlist every day, at the same hour, at maximum volume.

He’d always grit his teeth as he felt the vibrations through out the entirety of the house.

***

He parks his truck in the driveway and steps out, Bucky looks up into the sky and see’s the orange hue of the rising sun tainting the blue sky.

He sighs and walks into the house gets all the equipment up and ready for action.

Steve arrives a little while later and sets up too, they talk about random updates on their lives when Steve stops to a specific topic.

“Oh, and the person next door, the one that blasts the music is apparently new to the neighbourhood too,” he says as he uses a hammer to nail in some wooden floorboards.

Bucky pauses as he holds some tiles under his arm, “yeah?”

To which Steve nods too, “yeah.”

***

There is it, again.

The bass.

Bucky shakes his head in annoyance and rubs the bridge of his nose trying to push away the oncoming headache.

Steve had to go and get some caulk for the bathroom, so it was only Bucky working out some things.

“Fuck this shit,” he drops his tools and walks out of the house in his beige construction boots.

He was on the sidewalk to the house next door; he sees the plants on the porch and the little metal porch table and chair on the corner. With each step towards the house, the bass gets louder.

Walking up to the door he clenches his jaw as he hears his heart thumps to the beat of the base, he clenches his knuckles and knocks on the door a bit too loudly.

***

Your mind was too focused on working on your code and trying to find your bug and trying to understand why your program runs on an infinite loop, that you almost did not hear the loud knock on your door.

Your mind reels itself back into the real world, where Freddie Mercury screams through your house about some woman being a killer queen.

You walk to your front door, as you do you feel the base course through your body, providing you’re tension some sort of release. You open the door to see a 6’ something beefy man with hair till his shoulders, the bluest eyes you’ve seen, and a pair of construction vest and a hard hat.

You, however, are cladded in a tank top and red flannel pyjama pants.

“Uh hi, may I help you?” you look at him confuse, like you weren’t totally checking him out a few seconds ago.

I mean you really can’t blame you, when he is doing the exact same thing as you were: checking you out.

***

Bucky taps his foot impatiently waiting for the door to be opened, and when it does the string of cuss words that he had planned to use evaporates from his tongue.

He takes in your messy hairdo and the glasses that perch on your nose.

His heart stutters for a sec, he can’t even bring himself to answer the question you asked. And when you repeat it again, he just lets out a serious of “uh’s” and “um’s”.

You look at him questioningly, wondering what a construction worker would be doing around these parts. Then you remember the house that’s being renovated on your left.

“Oh you the guys working on house next to mine, yeah?” You say as you lean against your doorframe.

Bucky stands straighter and gets himself together. “Uh, yes ma’am,” he nods he scratches his stubble.

“I’m sorry for knocking so loud, ma’am. But I’ve been working on the house for a few weeks now and I can’t help but hear the…. music from your house,” he says looking into your eyes and stuffing his hands into the hands of his cargo shorts.

You blush immediately, “shit. Oh my god, I’m so sorry it’s just when I get locked into my work. I just need some loud base so it does get loud in the noggin’,” you say and tap on your temple, and then cringe.

WHO THE FUCK SAYS NOGGIN

To your luck, Bucky chuckles at your little stunt and nods.

“What work needs music so loud that it can break the sound barrier,” he crosses his arm and gives you a smirk.

Your legs almost turn to jelly at his smirk.

“Well, um, I code…...A lot. I work in Machine Learning,” you say as your wring your hands and laugh nervously.

Bucky raises a brow, impressed at your revelation of what you do for a living.

“Impressive. Well then, I really shouldn’t say anything that would affect your work-,” he starts but you cut immediately.

“No, no, no, it’s my fault I’ll reduce the volume. I should’ve done it sooner, but I was just seriously locked in. I’m like running on five cups of coffee, it’s literally insane. My boss thinks that I am able to code an entire authentication system in two weeks, and that’s where she her screws are loose in her head. Cuz, no one in the entire world can build an entire TWO-WAY authentication system in two weeks. Like who does she think I am Mark Zuckerberg, I can’t-,”

You pause as you realise, you’re going on a rant. Bucky’s eyes are slightly raised in shock.

“Sorry I really shouldn’t be rambling about my job to some stranger, I’ll lower the volume Mr…,” you drag the last bit hoping he’ll finish it off you.

“Barnes, James Barnes. But my friends call me Bucky,” he sticks his hand out and asks for yours, which you tell gladly.

“And don’t worry, we all have those days,” he says giving you a little nod of sympathy.

You smile softly at his efforts and thank him before giving a tight smile and a “See you later” and closing the door of your humble abode.

***

Bucky notices the reduced volume of the music in the following days, he smiles as he can only hear the traces of the 80’s/90’s music you play from your home.

Steve see’s the look Bucky has as he watches your house.

“Have you met ‘em?” Steve asks as he continues to tile the kitchen.

Bucky, without looking away from the house, responds with a yes.

Steve chuckles, “you gave ‘em a piece of your mind? Threaten ‘em? Is that why their music is barely audible now, hmm?”

Bucky shakes his head, “she’s gorgeous, Steve.” He remembers how you were dressed with you first opened the door and it made his heart flutter again.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, with a smirk on his face. Bucky death glares at Steve, to which Steve chuckles at.

The blonde looks at his watch as sighs, “well it’s time for lunch, wanna clock out?” To which Bucky nods to.

Soon they make it to Bucky’s truck and Bucky can’t help but stare at your house.

“Ask her if she wanna join,” Steve pushes Bucky in your direction.

“Should I? I dunno man,” the brunette scratches the back of his neck. Steve just rolls his eyes and shoves Bucky to the stairs leading up to your porch.

***

You excepted there would be a bug in your code. But what you didn’t expect was your doorbell to ring.

You got up and felt your grey sweats unstick from your thighs, you shudder at the feeling.

You make your way to the door and open it up to reveal the man you were secretly hoping it would be.

Bucky.

“Hey Bucky, gosh I hope the music isn’t loud again,” you laugh nervously to which Bucky shakes his head and reassures you.

“It’s perfect, doll. Greatly appreciated,” he smiles giving a soft smile.

You return with your own and then a confused look glazes your face, “oh, great. Then, why are you…?”

Bucky helps you finish the sentence, “My co-worker and I were heading to grab some lunch, just wanted to check in and ask if you wanted to join us?”

“Oh,” you look behind him and see and equally handsome blonde man waving in your direction with a 100-percent-typical-American-golden-boy smile. You nervously wave back and look back at Bucky, “Oh I don’t wanna impose.”

Bucky huffs and chuckles, “you ain’t imposing, Doll. I’m offering.” He raises a brow in question, waiting for your answer.

“How long have you been at your computer?” he asks straightforward. You reel you head back in slight confusion at the sudden change of topic, “uh, since this morning?”

Bucky nods and replies, “you need a break.”

That you didn’t disagree with, since you are desperate for one.

But you feel as though you’d disturb Bucky and his friends lunch.

“You sure I won’t be imposing?” you ask him as you bite your lip.

“Never been more sure of anything else in my life, doll.”

💌💌💌

Hey Lovelies! this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I FINALLY finished it. My deepest apologies @sergeantbarnessdoll for not completing it sooner, it isn't the same as you asked I hope that's all good 🤧🤧🤧.

This was also a fix I was planning to make! ( a fix that included a construction worker Bucky Barnes’s, cuz that AU is soooo underrated)

Lemme know what y'all think!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life 10 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: When will you learn to trust?

Part 9, Part 11

TW: attempted assault, violence, slight angst, cursing

Loud music blasted in your headphones as you were landing multiple hits against the punching bag.

Flashes of everything that frustrated you. Miguel. Jason. Your own feelings that went against being Spiderwoman.

Your breathing increased as you hit harder and harder. Focusing all of your anger and frustrations on the poor punching bag.

You had to stop before you break the punching bag with your super strength. You took a seat on a bench and began to drink some of your water. Still stuck in your own thoughts. Ignoring everything and everyone in the gym. You sighed as you leaned your head against the wall behind you. The music playing from the gym speakers calmed you a bit.

The music being calmer than your intense hateful playlist.

You've gone back to hitting the gym. You had a lot of time to yourself. A lot of grieving. You needed to get yourself together. Even if you didn't have the mentality to do so.

After lifting a few weights for a few more hours. You head out the gym. A little reluctant to do so, but it was getting dark, and you don't really want to get a lecture from Alfred like last time.

He went on about you being a young lady, and how it was far too dangerous for you to be out at night, especially in Gotham. Which you understand. His concern for you is nice. You appreciate it greatly, but you just don't have the patients tonight.

As you walked past a diner. You could smell the food. You stopped and sighed. Trying to resist the urge. There was dinner at home.

Of course. You gave in and went into the diner. Ordering a meal and taking a seat in a booth.

You happily ate. Finally seeming to cool down. The anger you had washed away. Now you were just sad. You sighed when you finished eating. Giving your waiter a sweet smile after you paid the cheek.

You silently sat brooding to yourself. wondering of the future. Of the past. Possibilities. What will your downfall be? when will your downfall be?

will you die alone? under that mask you hid under for years?

or surrounded by family. By loved ones.

You decided it was probably time to get up and get back to the manner. You left the Diner and walked down the almost empty street. Police sirens from different directions could be heard

Suddenly. You felt your spider seances spike up. Thats when you heard a scream come from an alleyway down the street.

You wasted no time and sprinted down to the alleyway. You immediately spot about 7 men trying to assault a woman. You grab a trash bag that was filled and hit one of the men.

You were quick. Punching one of the men who had a bat and ripping it out from his hand. You get punched in the gut. And in the face. Causing you to stumble back.

Before you could do anything else. A flash of black was seen. And someone stood in front of you. Tall. Dressed in black with. . . a cape?

You noticed the men all freeze. Staring at the figure in front of you with absolute terror. You slowly look up to the figure. And you felt your heart drop to your ass.

"Batman. . ." You mumbled at you stare up at the vigilante with wide eyes. The Batman stared down at you. Just. Stared down at you. Before you could do anything else, Batman rushed to knock down all five men. You tried to search for the woman from before. But she was already running.

Your spider senses spike up again. You duck down from a punch thrown by one of the men. You turn to deliver a hard punch back. But was beaten to hit.

Another man in a suit his colors noticeable. Nightwing, grabs the man and throws him against a wall.

You backed away as you watched The Nightwing take care of two other men who came at him with ease.

You were wondering if you should run. You turn around and attempted to leave. But you were stopped.

"Hold it kiddo." A firm grip was on your shoulder. You turn around and see Nightwing. Batman close behind. Both men staring down at you. You got really nervous.

"Hey, your safe now." Nightwing pats your head reassuringly. It was. Oddly familiar.

"We're taking you to the police station." Batman suddenly spoke. You got nervous again. You greatly respected Batman. But you were scared.

And you know they could see it. You frowned deeply and took two steps back.

"Thanks, but I'm good." You gave them a cold look. You turn to walk away. But Batman was suddenly in front of you

"Shit-!" You took a step back. Batman frowns. "Language. I wasn't asking. We will take you to the police station." He suddenly grabbed you and lifted you off the ground.

"Whoa! Hey, let go of me!" You shouted as you were thrown over his shoulder.

"Hey, um. Maybe you should put her down I don't think she's comfortable with that-" Nightwing gets cut off by Batman's glare.

"Neverminded. . . I'll just shut up." Nightwing looks down to his feet to avoid Batman's glare.

You were taken to the Police station unwillingly and had to wait for an unhappy Alfred and Jason who was mocking you for getting in trouble. Which you responded with a middle finger.

"Imagine getting arrested?"

"I wasn't arrested jackass."

"Alfred she just cursed at me!"

"Did I stutter? Or are you going deaf. From that chunk of grey hair you got, hearing loss got to be one of the many stages of getting old."

"Excuse me?"

"Your excused."

You and Jason continued to bicker in the back of the limo. Alfred reached his limit with the two of you when you two kept cursing at each other.

"If you both do not stop bickering, I will report you both to Master Bruce, am I understood?"

You and Jason were quick to quite yourselves down.

Bruce stormed around the Batcave while taking off his mask.

"What was she thinking?" Bruce grumbled as he walked up to the controls and big screens.

"She was trying to help." Dick spoke as he leaned on a wall. Watching Bruce get onto the computers and get onto the surveillance cameras around Gotham. Replaying you leaving the gym. Then leaving the diner. And then running straight to the alleyway. Into danger.

Dick frowns slight. He does agree

"She could have gotten hurt. Those men could have had guns. They could have-" Bruce clenched his fist. Stopping himself as he switched the cameras to live surveillance of the manor

". . . She's safe now Bruce. Look." Dick pointed to the live surveillance of you entering the Mannor with Jason and Alfred.

Bruce let out a small breath of relief. You were safe. At home. Were you are protected. Where he can protect you.

The next morning, you were alone with Alfred. You were in your room in your bathroom. Seemingly working on a new invention in the bathtub while listening to music.

Crying a little while working on your wires. Letting out a frustration by crying a little helped a little bit.

While you were in your own little world. Bruse came up the stairs, your bedroom door was open as always. but you were not at your desk. He sees the bathroom light on and calls out for you. But you don't respond. So, he knocked on the bathroom door.

You still didn't hear him due to your headphones. You shocked yourself a bit, causing yourself to curse and drop your little gadget. In a hurry to catch it you hit your head against the shower glass causing the headphones to fall off and causing you to curse louder.

Bruce heard the commotion going on in the bathroom. He knocked a little harder and called your name again.

"Are you okay?" You can hear the worry in Bruce's voice.

"Um- Yeah! I'm okay. Just--shiiiii. . . ow." You grumbled.

Bruce awkwardly stood at the door. "I'll just. . . wait out here."

Bruce takes a seat on your bed and just waits for you to come out. He glanced around the room. He's happy you decorated the way you wanted it. Instead of leaving the walls and shelves bare.

You came out of the bathroom. Kind of looking like a mess yet smiling at him nonetheless.

There it is. You had that smile that said something was wrong.

"Hey. Sorry I just. Tripped."

As you rant on whatever excuse you had. Bruce watched your movements. Clenching your jaw as you spoke. Pacing around the room. Rambling. Looking anywhere but at him.

You're stressing about something. But what. You won't tell him. He could ask, like he's done before. But you always seem to create this wall after he asks you if you were okay. Or how you were feeling in any emotional way.

The wall always seems to be getting bigger and bigger.

"I wanted to talk to you about setting a curfew. And, laying down a few more rules." Bruce spoke as he stood up from your bed.

You paused. "Oh, okay."

Bruce sighed. "I just- You haven't told me about what happened last night." He was still upset with the attitude you gave Batman(him) that night. Completely different from how you are with him.

"Oh, I just thought since Alfred already told you. . ." You stuttered a little.

"Things like this. You were in serious danger. Why didn't you just call for Alfred to get you?"

"If I did that. What would have happened to that lady then?" Your tone firmer now. It seems you want to stand ground.

"You could have called the cops. Call out to other people to help. But you went in alone!" Bruce spoke with a deep frown as he took a step forward.

"Cops would be too slow. There were people around but they were doing nothing. Even after she screamed!" You didn't like how Bruce was scolding you. Scolding you just like how she used to.

"She was alone. Screaming for help. If I didn't do anything she would have been-"

"You could have been met with the same fate if those vigilantes didn't get there when they did!" His voice raising slightly. Silence fell upon the room as your jaw clenched, you avoid looking him in the eyes. You were getting angry.

". . . I had it handled."

"No you did not! It was you against a bunch of grown men. There was nothing you could have done to prevent what could have happened." Bruce was just worried. Frustrated. Angry.

You look back at him, your eyes narrowed as you took a step forward. Speaking before thinking. "And what do you know huh? You know nothing 'bout me! you know nothing! You think you can waltz in my damn life and take me away from all I know you can tell me what I'm capable of?" Your voice began to raise as your tone became more aggressive.

"You might got the papers to prove you my pops. But you're not, you're not! So, stop playing daddy and acting like you know every fucking solution to my life when you weren't even there!"

Silence

Absolutes silence

It took you seconds to realize you just lashed out. And so many things that should have been kept in.

"I- Im sorry I didn't mean it. . ."

Bruce lets out a small sigh as he turns around and spoke in a solomed tone "Your curfew is 9:00." He shut the door behind him.

". . . Fuck."

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---

A/n: So, whoever wants to get tagged for this series than comment so I can tag u. Ik a lot of people have been asking and I'm sorry I'm late. I also got a question of the readers age, she's 16.

[zvdvdlvr]

— Alive and Breathing.

— 🩷. Synopsis. Spencer gets a phone call.

— 🩷. Warnings. Angst. Lung injuries. Back injuries. Blood but nothing descriptive. Possible medical term errors. Hospital. Fluff. Unedited. I want an octopus. Worried!Spencer. Crying. Pet names. Welder!Reader. Female reader. — 🩷. Other welder!reader fics. Lunch Break. Learning to Live Again.

Spencer’s phone rang, disturbing the silence that blanket the office. It was a paperwork day: the time had finished up the night before and since it was so late Hotch let everyone postpone their work until tomorrow. He looked at it, confused. The ringtone was different than the one he had specially for you, so he was worried. He clicked answer and held it up to his ear.

“Is this a Spencer Reid?” A (tired) woman asked the second he picked up.

“Uh…” Spencer paused, eyebrows furrowing even more, “yes. Why?”

“Your wife, y/n, was found outside a… Loco Fiesta Motel. She is currently recovering from extensive surgery, but the last thing she asked for before going under was to call you,” the woman explained patiently.

Spencer felt his stomach drop. “I- I- I’ll be there as soon as possible.” He slammed his thumb down on the ‘end call’ harder than intended. Emily peered at Spencer from her paperwork, Derek doing the same.

“What’s happenin’, pretty boy?” Derek asked, watching his best friend pack all of his necessities in his bag.

“Y/n. She- she’s jn the hospital and it’s bad. I- I need to go. I need to go…” Soencer rambled, tears blurring his cision as he fumbled for his keys. You were his everything: if something happened to you Spencer wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you-

“Hey, hey, hey. Take a breath, Reid,” Enily soothed, gingerly taking the keys from Reid’s hands. “We’ll go. Just let me go tell Hotch, okay? Get a water with Morgan and I’ll be right back.”

Spencer’s shuddering form was swiftly embraced by Derek’s as Emily went up to Hotch’s office.

She walked in, making Hotch look up immediately. “Y/n is in the hospital. Spencer said it’s pretty bad. Can-“

Hotch stood up. “We’ll all go. Dave’ll come by later,” he explained as he hastily tucked his gun in it’s holster and his badge on his belt. “He was out getting lunch, I’ll tell him to meet us there.”

Enily nodded, following Hotch out the door of his office. His fast steps slowed considerable as he approached Reid’s shaking form. Hotch rested a hand on his shoulder, making the youngest agent of the BAU turn. “She’ll be okay, Reid. Let’s go,” he murmured consolingly.

The entire ride to the hospital, Spencer didn’t say a word. ‘Extensive surgery’ the nurse had said. That could mean any number of things: heart surgery, lung surgery, leg surgery, literally anything. Did you fall? Did someone ambush you? Did something in your body just… stop working? Did someone do things to you? Was it even another person?

Spencer felt the anticipation growing in his stomach, growing and making him feel cold. He felt his finger twitching, remembering how they had carded through your hair the night before. His lips tightened in a straight line, he couldn’t lose you. If he lost you, he lost himself.

His foot bounced on the floor of the SUV. He couldn’t hear the sirens that Hotch had turned on to get them to their destination- the hospital- faster, couldn’t hear his own uneven breathing as his mind showed him imaged of you, couldn’t hear Emily calling his name from literally two inches away from him.

It was only when a blast of cool air from the now open door beside him did Spencer realize they were there- at the hospital.

He got out shakily, not registering Derek’s presence behind him. He inhaled and exhaled once before darting toward the doors of he hospital.

Behind him, the team followed. “You ready for this?” Derek asked Emily, struggling to even keep up with Reid.

She shrugged. “Have to be,” she answered. “I mean, I want to be here for both of them. It’s just hard to see him like that.”

“I know, Em. I know.”

“I’m looking for y/n Reid. She- she was in surgery last I heard,” Reid burst out.

“Hold on just one second, sir,” the male nurse drawled, scrolling through something on his computer. “She’s still in surgery right now. Do you know what happened?”

Spencer shook his head. “I don’t know.”

The man nodded. “From what we understand, she was working on the roof at…” he trailed off, looking through his record again.

“Loco Fiesta motel,” Spencer prompted.

“That’s the one. The harness she had used while working on the building was faulty. When she lost traction on the roof, she fell off. Mrs. Reid landed on her back. Luckily, she was wearing a construction helmet, which prevented many cerebral injuries. But, as you probably understand, a fall like that messed up her spine and could cause major damage to her legs,” he explained solemnly.

Spencer whimpered, knees threatening to give out. All he imagined was your limp body strewn out of concrete like an unwanted doll.

Gasps came from Emily and Derek. Hotch reached out fast enough to catch Spencer before his legs gave out, steadying him. “Do you have any idea how long it’ll take for the surgery to be over?” Hotch asked, a lump if emotion lodged in his throat.

“It’s hard to say, sir, but the second I hear anything, you’ll be notified,” the man assured.

Hotch simmered in emotions closely identified to rage and sadness. He knew y/n wouldn’t knowingly use faulty equipment, wouldn’t even consider accepting that job unless she knew for a fact that all of her equipment was up-to-date and guaranteed to get her through the job unharmed. Aaron vowed to prosecute the company that made the harness and to make sure their business went bankrupt.

“Let’s just, uh,” Hotch started, adjusting his grip on the man currently leaning onto him, “let’s sit down.” He silently led the team over to a seating area. Hotch set Spencer down carefully, making sure his limp arms didn’t hit anything. When Spencer was situated, Hotch leaned back and onserved the man in front of him. Spencer Reid, the man he’d knew since Spencer was 23. The man who’d gone from a ocially awkward guy who couldn’t hold a conversation with a woman for more than thirty seconds to a husband who was barely holding himself up in the hospital that his wife was currently currently being cut up in. My god, Hotch thought, kid’s grown up.

Thirteen hours later. Thirteen hours later, Spencer was shaken awake by the nurse that had previously told him what had happened to his wife.

“She’s out of surgery, sir” was all the man had to say before Spencer snapped awake and starting waking up Rossi, Hotch, Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Derek. Spencer didn’t remember Penelope or JJ coming in. “Where is she?”

The man led the way, bringing Spencer up to speed on what happened. “She crashed three times during the surgery. Mrs. Reid has bruised many columns of her spine and the fall caused internal bleeding in the stomach, lungs, and heart. The spinal contusions take about six months to a year to heal. This added with the bleeding? I’d say Mrs. Reid will have to leave work for roughly two years. She’s in a medically induced coma for the time being as we moniter her progress. But. She’s alive.”

‘Two years’ winded everyone. It felt like a literal gut punch, especially to Spencer. You loved your job. You loved working with different personalities. You loved working with your hands. You loved working. But the thing you loved most? You loved being able to come home, embraced by Spencer after a pretty rough day and Spencer insisting on massaging every inch of your body after drawing you a bath. Two. Damn. Years.

And yet, you were alive. A fall like that could have wasily killed someone: snapped their neck, splattered their brains on the pavement, organs exploding on impact… the list goes on. But you were alive. Alive and breathing.

That’s what Spencer repeated to himself as he entered the ICU. Alive and breathing. The nurse had walked the team to your room, insisting on only one people at a time: visiting hours were over, but the nurse sympathized. Hotch had nodded and shaken the nurse’s hand, gravelly voice speaking the words “You don’t know how much this means” and “Thank you so much”, ending with a quieter “From all of us”.

Alive and breathing, Spencer repeated, exhaling.

He slowly walked into the room, eyes locked on you. And the freakish amount of machines and the respirator you were hooked into. Spencer felt tears spring in his eyes as he rounded the bed to your side.

Spencer quietly tugged a chair over to your side and sat down. “Hi, baby,” he greeted. His voice shook as he gingerly took your hand in his. The calluses on your hands were comforting, something you’d always have. But after those two years…

“I brought the team, y/n. They’re- everyone’s here. Here for you,” Spencer sobbed, hiding his face in your closed hand. They were cold, Spencer observed. Too cold. Cold like the blood in Spencer’s veins when he got that damn phone call. Cold like the nights when Spencer would literally lay on top of you to get warm during the winter months (you’re basically a walking heater). Cold like the corpses Spencer saw every goddamned day. He choked on his breath. Alive and breathing, his consciousness weakly whispered. But you almost weren’t alive.

When he caught his breath, Spencer looked at your sleeping face. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. You don’t deserve this.”

Spencer’s body shook with sobs. Somewhere deep in his heart he hoped you would magically wake up from your coma like in the movies you’d watched with Spencer. “I’ll be back in a minute, baby. I’ll- I’ll send in the team so they can go home and get some sleep,” he spoke, brushing hair out of your face and pressing a kiss to your clammy face. “I love you, wife.”

Spencer walked out, fist pressed to his mouth, struggling not to break down in front of the people he grew to call his family. “Go in and see her. Go home. Get some sleep. I’m-“ Spencer’s voice trembled as he kept his eyes locked on the floor. “I’m staying with her.”

Garcia darted into the room first, withholding tears.

Rossi approached Spencer, who was still caught in a staring contest with a floor. “Hey, kiddo. I’ll go with you to get something to eat and drink,” he said. He felt his heart break a little more when Spencer just nodded, furiously scrubbing at his eyes and when he leaned in to Rossi’s arm as Rossi led the way to the vending machine.

Penelope placed little Beanie Babies on the desk next to y/n before taking a shiddering breath. “We’re all waitin’ for you, you death-defying woman,” she whispered.

Derek immediately pulled her into a hug when she exited the room, nodding to JJ to go in next.

“Derek, she looks- she looks-“ Penelope stuttered, makeup smearing through all her tears. Derek hushed her and pulled her back into his arms. “I know, mama. I know.”

“What, uh… what are you going to do?” Emily asked Hotch. She herself felt little pinpricks in her eyes.

“Spencer needs to be here,” Hotch replied. “He’s getting the time off, I just- this is gonna tear him apart.” He dragged a hand down his face, his other hand resting on his hip. “Keep an eye on him, Emily.”

She nodded silently. JJ emerged from the room shortly after, sniffling. “I’m gonna head out, Hotch. Call me if-“

“I will. Get home safely, get some sleep,” Hotch responded.

JJ nodded.

“Go,” Hotch urged, tapping Emily’s shoulder.

A few minutes after Emily left, Derek took Penelope back home. That left Hotch.

He quietly took a seat by you, clearing his throat. He had to find the right words. “I’m glad you’re…” Aaron fiddled with the button on his suit. “I’m glad you fought as hard as you did. Thank you, y/n. Keep breathing, okay?” Aaron sat there in silence for a few more minutes until Rossi brought Spencer back.

After Aaron stood up he really looked at y/n. Her closed eyes, clammy skin, yellow complexion- Hotch assumed something happened to her liver- and memorized it. He knew this would be one of the turning points in your life and Spencer’s. And Hotch wanted to be able to be there to offer advice. “Sleep well, y/n.”

“Go see her, Dave. Then go home, alright?” Hotch murmured, patti g the man’s back.

Spencer leaned against the wall, granola bars and water bottle in hand- unopened. “I love her, Hotch.” He whispered, finally looking Aaron in the eye.

Hotch nodded. “I know you do, kid. She knows it too. Just… be here. You have all the time you need, you understand?” After Spencer nodded, Rossi left the room.

“Call me, Reid, if you need it,” Rossi told Spencer, patting his shoulder. “Good night, kid. Try to get some sleep, okay?

“I’ll try,” Spencer replied. “Good night.”

And then there was one.

Spencer entered the room and sat back down. “I’m back, my beautiful wife,” Spencer mumbled. “I won’t be leaving you anytime soon.”

Eventually Spencer fell asleep. He didn’t care about visiting hours, he just showed the nurses his badge and his sunken, bloodshot eyes and pleaded them to let him stay.

And then later when Spencer woke up, you were still alive and breathing.