#the wine is most out of my system but i’m just in a good happy social mood after a nice night out :3 and i luv talking to my friends so hiii
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grenadineghost · 6 months ago
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what have you been excited about recently/what are you looking forward to? have you eaten anything good lately?
hiiii!!! :D
i have been excited abt a) the queer tango class i’ve been taking :3 went out tonight w a girl from the class and im rlly happy!! and b) ive started submitting my writing to literary magazines and im so excited even though ik the chances of publication are small
i am looking forward to my partners visiting in a couple weeks!!!!! i’ve been away from them for almost a month and i’ve been yearning and im so excited to be with my loves!!!
and last night my best friend taught me how to fold potstickers and we made like fifty and it was so fucking great :3 her food is always the best, both bc she’s really fucking good and bc she puts a lot of love into it!! 🐅
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naomijoestar · 2 months ago
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⋆.ೃ JJBA HEADCANONS ࿔*:・
Masterlist here <3
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genre: headcanons
warnings: slight nsfw for mista
characters: bucci gang
notes: i have never done any headcanon posts but i would like to share these with you guys! even tho part 5 isnt my favorite part in the series, its the part i enjoy writing for the most because bucci gang = confort gang <33
Bucci gang headcanons
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(this isn’t checked for any spelling mistakes because i got too tired so i’m sorry if there’s any!)
Bruno Bucciarati
- Loves writing poetry, especially about people he knows and his experiences in life; probably keeps his poems in an out-dated leather notebook inside a locked drawer (i also imagine that he hates to share them with anyone because he sees it as something personal, unless it’s with someone he’s been in a relationship with long term)
- Obviously, a comfort cook. He loves feeding the gang home cooked meals after missions
- LOVES THE RAIN! There’s just something about the rain that soothes him, he also really loves the smell outside after a very heavy rain pour
- He often acts like a protective parent to the rest of the gang, and I strongly believe that he has a soft spot for narancia
- I can honestly see bruno sleeping while sitting up very often, like in chairs and sofas. It’s a habit from years of always being on guard
Leone Abbacchio
- A late night drinker, he enjoys sitting by himself with a glass of wine; he is either zoned off or thinking about the past
- He has an EXTENSIVE collection of vinyl records. Prefers listening to older, slower music because it helps him relax
- This man 100% has a secret soft spot for animals and it’s just so cute, stops on the street to pet and feed stray dogs and cats
- Loves italian pastries, if bruno ever buys a tray of pastries he’ll sneak off at night and eat it all, the gang will probably not suspect a thing and blame it on narancia 😭
- Cold shower enjoyer, also likes showering in the morning rather than the afternoon
Giorno Giovanna
- Plant whisperer, has a habit of talking to plants especially when he’s feeling contemplative
- Giorno keeps his surroundings extremely neat, his room is always spotless and he has a specific system for organizing his clothes, accessories etc
- Obviously has a morning routine, likes to be a pretty princess and has very specific products he uses on his skin, also probably brushes his hair 100 times in the morning to keep it “soft and shiny”
- Enjoys silence more than loud spaces, he doesn’t necessarily hate loudness as long as it’s not too much, but he feels way more comfortable with quiet
Guido Mista
- 100% has a happy trail. I. Will. Forever. Live. By. This. There is not a single thing i hate about mistas character design EXCEPT for the fact araki didn’t give him a happy trail. Like this man is definitely very hairy and prefers keeping a bush
- He is superstitious to the core. He never steps on cracks, walks under ladders, and hates when the clock hits 4:44
- A spaghetti specialist, he takes his pasta very seriously, and even tho he doesn’t know how to cook one bit he will always judge a pasta plate
- Actually doesn’t stink that much, but his body odor is something else after missions (bc of the fact i imagine him to be hairy), but when he’s not on a mission he js smells like citrus and a hint of cigarettes
- Contrary to popular belief, i don’t think mista enjoys gun-play🤔 he sees the gun as something to torture and kill his enemies with, so he would rather not imagine his s/o being in a situation like that
Pannacotta Fugo
- Used to love piano when he was a kid, but when he got older he started to resent it because he felt as if it was forced onto him by his parents, a very good pianist but doesn’t really play
- Habitual Knuckle-cracker, unconsciously cracks his knuckles when he’s irritated or thinking too hard
- Fugo takes pride in his suits and is always dressed to impress, can’t stand the idea of his suits being wrinkled and constantly checks his reflection
- Idk why but i can imagine him playing chess mentally against himself in his spare time
- He’s also fluent in several languages and likes to indirectly flex about it, sometimes switches languages in the middle of a sentence and acts like it was an accident but he actually just wants to flex the fact that he’s multilingual
Narancia Ghirga
- LOVESSS 90’s hiphop and 90’s rap, even tho he doesn’t really understand what they’re saying he is obsessed with the flow and the beat, and also really loves the album covers and how cool they look (i wrote this because 90’s hiphop is my favorite genre of music and i can 100% see it being narancias’ too)(also he prefers biggie over tupac)
- Surprisingly good at video games like arcade shooters, easily spends hours playing and if a game contains a daily log-in streak type of thing, he takes it very seriously
- Snores sooooo louddddddd and moves alot in his sleep, if you’re sleeping next him you WILL be getting kicked, also scratches you with his toenails and cold feet to piss you off
- Has a stash of snacks hidden away for himself and hates sharing, sometimes the chocolates get melted and the candies get stuck together bc of how tightly stashed away they are but he doesn’t care and eats them anyways
- Doodles constantly, on anything, napkins, tables, hands you name it, if he has a pen in his hand he will doodle simple cute drawings
- His phone wallpaper is one of kawaii nutella photo things LMAO😭 idk if you guys know what i’m talking about but he thinks they’re so cute because of their big eyes
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That was it! I wanted to write more for narancia because i love him and he is my literal son but then this would be too long ;( If you liked this make sure to check out the scenarios i write and don’t be shy to request ones that you’d like me to write in the future <3
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lovetaroandtaemin · 1 month ago
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Kinktober 2024
Day 19: Cucking
Kim Hongjoong x Reader x Song Mingi Word Count: 2,154 THIS FIC IS NSFW, MINORS DNI!!! Warnings: Dom!Hongjoong x sub!Reader x sub!Mingi, Voyeurism and exhibitionism, masturbation, boob play, unprotected sex, implied round 2. A/N: If you would like to be added to my Kinktober taglist, you can send an ask, send a dm, or comment on any of my Kinktober-related posts with the username that you'd like tagged. Happy reading!
Taglist: @unlikelysublimekryptonite
Fic is under the cut.
You and Hongjoong sat together in the dorm’s living room, drinking wine and discussing your kinks. The rest of Ateez was out of the house, and you were grateful for the alone time with him to just hang out and talk. While you weren’t entirely sure when the topic of conversation shifted, you weren’t really upset about the change. You’d been dating Hongjoong for a while, but you still didn’t know much about what he did and didn’t like in bed. You had expected a bit more preparation before that particular conversation happened, but you’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t fun to just talk about it with no added anxiety or pressure.
“Alright, there’s one other thing I haven’t told you about,” Hongjoong said, “You have to promise you won’t judge me, though.”
“I promise, honey. What is it?”
“Cuckoldry.”
You were quiet for a minute, processing the new information. While you hadn’t tried anything like it before, you certainly were willing to give it a shot. Hongjoong interpreted your quietness as discomfort, though, quickly adding, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no, no, it’s ok. I was just surprised. I’m down to try it as long as you’re sure you want to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not?” you asked with a smile.
Before the two of you could discuss further, however, Mingi stumbled through the door. He saw you and smiled, asking you how your day went. Whether it was the alcohol in your system or the way he smiled at you, you weren’t entirely sure, but you felt butterflies in your stomach. You loved Hongjoong dearly, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t think that Mingi was sexy. You briefly considered asking Hongjoong if he would be willing to indulge his newly revealed kink by watching you fuck Mingi, but you were hesitant. What if it ruined their friendship? What if it ruined your relationship?
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Mingi saying, “Hello, Earth to (Y/N).”
“Sorry, what was that?”
“How was your day?”
“Oh, it was good. Thanks.”
“Are you ok, baby?” Hongjoong asked.
“I’m ok, I promise,” you said, “Just a bit tired. Can we go to your room?”
“Sure baby. Good night Mingi.”
“Good night!”
Mingi could tell from the way that you acted around him that you liked him. While he would never come between you and Hongjoong, he had to admit that he found himself thinking about you a lot. Most of the time those thoughts were innocent, sure, but there were also a lot of times that they weren’t. This was one of those times that they weren’t. He considered dealing with the growing ache between his legs before he went to sleep, but he decided against it. He was too tired. Besides, he didn’t want to risk you or Hongjoong hearing him.
Hongjoong could tell from the way that Mingi looked at you that he liked you. Maybe it was the fact that he was tipsy and not thinking clearly, but he was certain that he saw you looking at Mingi the same way. He considered asking you about it once you were in his room, but before he could, you were out like a light. So, he decided to ask you about it another time instead. If he was right about your attraction to Mingi, and Mingi’s attraction to you, he wanted to ask both of you about trying out one of his biggest fantasies.
The next day, Hongjoong had the perfect opportunity to find out if his suspicions were correct. All of Ateez had a rare day off, and most of the group already had plans outside of the dorms. Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang had made plans to go to an arcade and were getting ready to leave. Seonghwa, Jongho, and Yunho had already left to go shopping and see a movie. That left you, Hongjoong, and Mingi at the dorms.
You and Hongjoong sat in the kitchen together, eating breakfast. After he finished, he asked, “Would you and Mingi be willing to talk about something with me?”
A million thoughts and anxieties ran through your head. For a moment, you wondered if he had noticed the way you sometimes stared at Mingi. Before you could panic too much, though, you took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, of course.”
“I’m gonna go get Mingi, ok?”
“Ok. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
When Hongjoong came back to the kitchen a few minutes later, with Mingi behind him, they both looked just as nervous as you felt. Hongjoong looked like he was about to do something he would regret, and Mingi looked like he’d gotten caught doing something that he shouldn’t have. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened, as well as what was about to happen. You didn’t have to wonder for long, though, because Hongjoong said, “Tell (Y/N) what you were doing, Mingi.” The man in question mumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out, and Hongjoong said, “Speak up.” Mingi was completely silent this time, so your boyfriend turned to you and said, “He was moaning your name while he jerked off.”
“Shock” was not a strong enough word to describe how you were feeling. You had no idea how to respond to the new information, so you stayed silent. In fact, everyone was silent until Mingi looked at Hongjoong and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see or hear that. I thought that-”
“Be quiet,” Hongjoong said. “I’m not mad, I just had an idea that I wanted to talk to the two of you about. I was hesitant at first, but now I know that there might actually be some interest. What would you two say to indulging a certain fantasy of mine?”
You knew immediately what Hongjoong was referring to, but Mingi looked incredibly confused. So, you said, “He’s asking if you would be ok with him watching us fuck.”
“Oh, wow, ok. That is not what I was expecting,” Mingi said.
“If you don’t want to, we can pretend this conversation never happened,” Hongjoong said.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just, are you sure?” Mingi asked.
“I’m sure,” Hongjoong replied.
“I guess we could give it a shot,” you said.
“Yeah, I mean as long as you’re sure, I’m down,” Mingi added.
“I’m going to clean up the breakfast mess. I want both of you to go to my room now. I also want both of you naked when I get there.” Hongjoong instructed, leaving no room for either of you to argue.
You and Mingi both went to Hongjoong’s room, nervous and excited for what was to come. You took a deep breath before you removed the pajamas you’d worn to bed the night before, while Mingi removed his own. Then, you sat on Hongjoong’s bed and waited for him to come in.
It felt like hours had passed before Hongjoong finally came in, though it was probably only a few minutes. When he saw you and Mingi sitting on his bed, completely bare and waiting for his next instructions, he had to admit that it greatly boosted his ego. He looked at Mingi and said, “First, ground rules. No marking of any kind, no tongue kissing, and absolutely no cumming inside her. Understood?”
“Understood,” Mingi said.
Hongjoong turned to you and said, “Do you understand, baby?” You nodded, and he said, “Good. You two can start whenever you’re ready."
Mingi hesitantly cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. When he felt your lips on his, though, all of the nerves he was feeling went away. He pulled away to check your face for signs of discomfort, and when he found none, he smiled and went back to kissing you.
Once the initial nervousness wore off, you found yourself melting into Mingi’s touch. You were so lost in the way his lips felt, you almost didn’t notice the sounds of something scraping against the floor. When you pulled away to see what it was, you found Hongjoong moving a chair closer to the bed. Once the chair was where he wanted it, he sat down.
You wanted to say something to Hongjoong, but your focus was quickly brought back to Mingi when he pinned you to the bed and kissed your neck before making his way down to your chest. As he sucked on your sensitive nipple, a loud moan left your lips. The tent in Hongjoong’s pants only got more noticeable as he watched the two of you. He hated to admit it, but he was already struggling to control himself.
Mingi continued to kiss and touch your breasts until you felt like you were going to explode. When you found yourself unable to take it anymore, you said, “Please just fuck me already.”
Mingi lifted his head from your chest and said, “Gladly, princess.” As he aligned his tip with your entrance, he found himself hesitating. He had thought about this moment for so long, but now that it was happening, he was unsure.
Hongjoong must have noticed Mingi’s hesitation, because he said, “Go ahead.”
Mingi didn’t need to be told twice after that, slowly moving his hips forward. When you gave the ok to start thrusting in and out, however, he showed much less restraint. At first, you tried to hold back your moans. Then you heard your boyfriend say, “Don’t be shy, baby. Let Mingi hear you the way I get to,” and you couldn’t hold back anymore.
Once Mingi started fucking you, it didn’t take long for Hongjoong to discard his pants and boxers. As he watched the two of you, he started slowly stroking his cock, significantly more turned on than he originally thought he would be. He kind of wished that he was the one fucking you, but the sight of you so fucked out as Mingi thrusted in and out of you was something that he found himself really enjoying.
Mingi was amazed by how good you felt and how sexy you looked. He’d definitely fantasized about fucking you before, but none of his fantasies could compare to actually doing it. He knew then that he was going to struggle to last, especially since he’d already been so close to an orgasm before Hongjoong walked in on him.
The sight of your boyfriend jerking off while you got railed turned you on much more than you originally expected. When Hongjoong first asked you and Mingi about indulging this specific fantasy, you thought that you’d try it out but not actually go anywhere with it. When you heard the way Hongjoong moaned as he stroked his cock, however, you found yourself determined to give him a show. And that was exactly what you did.
You begged Mingi to fuck you harder, and he happily obliged. Loud moans fell from your lips as Mingi pounded into you, and he found it difficult to contain himself, to say the least. Especially when you brought your hand down to your pussy, playing with your clit in a desperate attempt to reach your high faster.
It didn’t take long at all for Mingi’s orgasm to approach. It still took longer than he thought it would, however, so he was grateful that he at least lasted for a little while. He warned you that he was close, and before you could even process his words he was pulling out, cum hitting your stomach as his climax washed over him.
Once Mingi came down from his high, he noticed you rubbing your clit faster, desperate to cum. Once he caught his breath, he replaced your hand with his own, kissing your neck as he played with your clit. Turns out, his mouth on you was all you needed, and you came with a series of moans and expletives leaving your mouth.
As you came down from your high, you felt Mingi pull away and leave the room. When he came back, you saw a wet cloth in his hand. He smiled when he saw how fucked out you were, and he started wiping the cum off of you. Once he was sure he had wiped everything away, he climbed back into bed and held you until he heard Hongjoong clear his throat. When he was sure you were ok, he stood up and got dressed, leaving you alone with Hongjoong once again.
Hongjoong smiled and got into bed with you, holding you close. You kissed him, and he groaned softly. That was when you remembered that he hadn’t finished yet. The idea of getting fucked by two different people in one day shouldn’t have turned you on, but it did. When you pulled away from the kiss, you leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “It’s your turn now, baby.”
God, you were insatiable, but Hongjoong loved it.
Thank you for reading! If you'd like to see what else I've written so far and the rest of what's planned, you can find my Kinktober masterlist here. If you'd like to read one of my non-Kinktober works, you can find my general masterlist here. If you'd like to see what I'm going to be working on once Kinktober is over, you can find my upcoming works here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms!
Thank you again for reading, happy spooky season!
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insilanar · 10 months ago
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Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!
Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!
Here you go, hope you enjoy <3
Lestappen fic rec
Short-ish fics 🩵
control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k
Summary:
Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k
Summary:
“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k
Summary:
‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡
Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k
Summary:
"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss
Rating: General Audiences
<3
Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k
Summary:
Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.
Rating: Explicit
-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌
<3
oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k
Summary:
There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.
Rating: General Audiences
<3
you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k
Summary:
When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
<3
Fics above 30 k ❤
Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k
Summary:
"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.
Rating: Mature
<3
To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k
Summary:
Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.
Rating: Explicit
<3
Favorite lestappen authors 💕
NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity
Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌
And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!
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ladylooch · 2 months ago
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Breaking All My Rules - [Timo X Emma]
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A/N: Happy, happy birthday to our main squeeze, thick thigh, fashion model, Timo!
Original request: I love rereading L&L and following along with Emma and Timo’s storyline, but I’m curious to know more about the briefly mentioned story (that Nico loves so much) about them fooling around on his dock. Can you give more explanation?
Summary: In the summer of 2022, FWB Timo and Emma are making the most of their last morning together on the dock, blissfully unaware of their audience. 
Word Count: 3.8k 
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The soles of Nico’s black and white Nike’s slap at the embedded rock of his front steps as he climbs up them. He yawns, wishing he was still back in Milan getting some much needed R&R and stuffing his face full of Italian delicacies. Instead, he is home earlier than planned to prepare for a vigorous week of off-season training. 
Nico punches in the numbers to the code for his front door. He hears the tell tale scrape of the lock releasing then pushes in. Light music plays through the sound system as he steps into the air conditioned space. He glances around at the kitchen, seeing wine glasses strewn about, clothes in various places throughout the main area, and leftover charcuterie long forgotten on the island. He chuckles. His sister clearly enjoyed her weekend without him. 
“Em?” He calls, pausing to listen for her response. He hears none. He takes his hat off, tossing it onto the counter next to another one he hasn’t seen before. He picks it up, noting the Adidas logo on it. This definitely isn’t his sister’s, but it isn’t his either. He keeps the hat in his hands as he steps forward towards the huge windows overlooking the lake behind his house. His thick eyebrows shoot up his forehead at the current view. 
On the new dock he put in this Spring, his older sister is laying in a man’s lap, topless, extended back with her bare tits in the air while the man sucks on one of them.
“Holy. Fucking…” Nico mutters, looking away. He steps back a few paces, putting his hands on his hips. He looks down at the hat again, then turns it to the side. Etched into the cloth in white thread is the number 28. Nico stares at it, then hesitantly looks back towards the dock. Emma has leaned forward, smothering the man’s face into her chest. The man lifts her up, then turns her, facing the house. 
A tunnel of focus brings Nico’s full attention to his face.
Timo Meier lays Emma Hischier on the dock. Nico gapes as his Team Switzerland teammate stares down at Nico’s half naked sister like she’s his next meal. Timo’s fingers glide down Emma’s body, then dip into her biking bottoms. Nico swerves backwards.
“What the fuck?” Nico mutters to himself. 
Then, like a car wreck, he watches as Timo brings his face between her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs.
There is no way in hell Nico is sticking around to see more. 
He slaps a hand over his eyes and backs fully away from the window. He turns on his heel, the rubber of his shoes squeaking against the wood floors. His hand dashes through his hair as he tries to wrap his head around what he just saw, while also deleting the images of his naked older sister.
Without thinking more about it, Nico grabs the handles of his travel bag and walks right back out of his house.
What the hell was that?
- - -
Behind Emma Hischier’s closed eyes, swirls of light ricochet off the back of her eye lids. She follows them as they bounce along the dark spaces while trying to ignore how good it feels to have Timo’s thumb rubbing her ankle. 
It’s almost too comfortable for her. 
The way his skin warms hers. 
How good it feels to be touched and taken care of by somebody else. 
How the silence between them isn’t awkward or from a lack of connection. 
It’s all easy and effortless. Just like this whole weekend has been.
“I was thinking I could grill something for you before I go.” Timo’s voice cuts through the stillness of the lake day air. 
“That would be nice. There is steak in the fridge.” Emma murmurs in response.
“Would you like that?”
“Yeah.” She says, opening up her eyes.
Her sunglasses shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. She rests on her back, on a towel to protect her skin from the hot, dock surface. Her bikini straps have been shifted slightly off her shoulders to avoid unnecessary tan lines. Timo told her to take it off completely, but she saw Nico’s neighbor out earlier and wasn’t interested in giving her a show. 
“I’ll go up there and take it out, so it can get to room temperature.”
“Thank you.” Emma murmurs. 
The dock shakes below her back as Timo walks up the dock and back to the house. Once he is gone, Emma sighs, looking towards the sun’s position in the sky. It won’t be long before Timo will be leaving to head back to his place.
If Emma was being honest, she has had a lot of fun since Timo arrived to Nico’s on Friday afternoon. They’ve spent the entire weekend together playing house, making meals, watching the sunset on the dock, and falling into her bed together. Nico has been on a trip with friends in Milan, but he is due back this evening, which means Timo will be leaving well before he arrives to keep their secret. 
A weird flutter expands in her chest, but Emma refuses to call disappointment by it’s name. 
She just had a fun weekend and maybe isn’t quite ready to go back to the grind of her summer events tomorrow. 
As a self-proclaimed workaholic, that doesn’t alarm her at all…
The dock sways under the weight of Timo returning from the house. 
“I brought you another Diet Coke. Even though this is probably going to cut your life short.”
“Add it to the list.” She shrugs, sitting up to grab it from him. He frowns at her as she takes a sip. “Stop.” She sasses back to his scrunched nose slapping his thick thigh lightly.
“Maybe I want you around for awhile.”
Emma lets those words hang in the air between them for a moment before she looks away, across the water to the big houses that line the lake. 
Timo reaches for her cheek, brushing the backs of his fingers across it, then working his way to grab her chin. He brings her brown gaze back to his face. 
“I know I said this yesterday, but I’ve had a lot of fun with you this weekend.”
“Me too.” Emma admits. She reaches for his arm, scratching her nails down the inside of his forearm before she rests her hand in the crook of his bent elbow. Timo runs his tongue along his upper teeth then leans in to kiss her. It’s gentle, searching almost, like he is looking for her lips to let him into the wall she is putting back up around her. 
But Emma can’t. Just like she can’t be feeling any of these little flutters in her stomach when she catches him look at her from across the room. Or the way guilt scratches at her brain when he seems so disappointed as she puts her clothes back on to leave his place. 
This is not what they agreed on in Prague years ago and Emma hates being the fun police by reminding him what they’re supposed to be to each other.
“I can tell your mind is racing right now.” Timo whispers against her lips. “And it never means good things for me.” He pulls away, reaching for her sunglasses to take them off. Emma bites her lip immediately, feeling vulnerable as he soaks her in. She’s worried if he looks too close he will see it… whatever this feeling inside of her is that lights her soul on fire.
“Make me stop thinking.” She mumbles. He’s so good at that. At using his body to make her forget everything else except how damn good he makes her feel.
Timo’s big arm wraps around her, easily bringing her into his lap. The bottoms of her biking settle on the ties of his swim trunks where he has swelled beneath their closure. His lips find hers, sucking her bottom one into his mouth to nibble. Emma’s hands find their place running up his throat to his jaw. She cups his face, deepening their kiss by pressing her chest into his collarbones, giving herself leverage above him. 
Timo breaks away from her lips, licking down her throat then continuing his path with his lips. Emma feels the brush of his fingers at the back of her neck before her biking top slacks over her breasts. She looks down, watching him nuzzle the valley of her cleavage before he takes a pointed peak into his mouth. Emma’s head knocks back and a breathy whimper releases from her mouth.
“Gonna miss these tits, babe.” He sighs, then laps at her again almost like he is trying to memorize the feel of her on his tongue. He kisses his way across to the other nipple, then teases and plumps it. 
Emma threads her fingers deeper into Timo’s hair, then shoves him further into her breasts. He chuckles against her skin, rolling so he is on top of her. He sits back on his heels, looking down at her bare chest and barely covered pussy, then smirks. His fingers drag down the warm skin of her abdomen, slightly wet from sweat before he fingers her bikini bottoms. 
“Could just pull these to the side right now.” His fingertips slide under the elastic band, then the backs of his knuckles slide over her slick folds. Emma’s eyes screw shut, pressing her hips down to make more contact with him. “Thought you might of had enough after this morning.” He murmurs, referencing how she had shaken on him and squeezes her legs together when it became too much. ‘But you’re never gonna have enough of me are you, Em?”
Timo leans down, pressing his lips to her inner thigh. His tongue traces up the soft skin to the edge of her bottoms, then back down, teasing and edging her. He does the same thing to the other side, then presses his mouth in a kiss over her clothed clit. Emma pulses beneath his mouth as his blue eyes raise to hers. 
He wants her to beg. 
She isn’t above it at this point.
“Please. One more time.” She bites her lips after she says it.
“Gonna need you to moan my name the whole time, okay?” Emma nods eagerly. 
Timo slides her bottoms to the side, licking up her soaked slit until he reaches her clit. His fingers come to her puffy lips, spreading them wide so she can keep her legs relatively closed. He exposes her clit to the warm air, then laps at it with his tongue. 
“Timo.” She moans obediently as he goes back to vacuum the bud into his mouth. 
“Fuck, you taste good for me, Em.” He coos back to her. He tilts her hips up a bit with his big hand, then starts to devour her like the meal she presents herself as. 
Emma calls his name again, louder and more desperate this time. Her mouth holds it’s self open, head falling back to the dock. 
“Oh fuck.” She whimpers as two fingers circle her entrance then plunge in. He curls them up, wagging his tongue against her clit rapidly as he pumps into her slowly. “Timoooo.” She extends the last letter then laughs, then rapidly exhales. “Oh fuck. Fuck.” She repeats herself. 
After all the sex they’ve had this weekend, she shouldn’t be this close, but he’s so damn good at eating her out, she can’t help it.
She catapults over the edge and lands face first into the abyss. The orgasm is so intense it almost hurts as she clenches around his fingers and shakes on the dock like it’s this morning all over again. One hand finds his forehead, then squeezes his hair in the spaces of her fingers.
“T… oh my god.” She groans, covering her face with her other hand.
Birds chirp in the distance. The waves lap the shore. It should bring Emma’s awareness back to where they are, but instead it just fuels the flutters of her orgasm. Timo pulls her fingers away, plunging his tongue into her mouth so she can taste the tang of her on his mouth. The rushed frantic kisses, collapse into sweet smooches as Emma melts on the dock below Timo. 
“I don’t have a condom on me. We used the last one this morning.” Timo murmurs against her lips. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to trust each other.” She sighs into his final kiss. Timo puts his forehead against her collar bone. 
“Fuck, Em. You make me break all my rules.” He groans. Then he stands, picking her up. “As much as I want to do this where the whole lake can see us, I also don’t want anyone else to see you taking my cock as good as you do.” Emma chuckles, pressing her breasts into his bare chest to hide her from the world like he wants. 
“You don’t want everyone to see me come all over you?” He grunts, almost like a growl, then hoists her up higher into his arms where her thighs are slipping off his hips.
“Gonna make you ride me until you can’t anymore.” He stops halfway up the yard to bite her collarbone. Emma tosses her head back to laugh, then chews her bottom lip as he sucks at the hollow of her throat. 
“You better keep going or we aren’t going to make it to the house. We’ll be christening this fire pit.” 
Timo practically trips through the door when they get inside. He tries to make a beeline for the couch, but Emma says no.
“My room.” She tells him. “Wanna smell us in my sheets later.” She isn’t sure if she should have said that, but then Timo looks at her like that and she is glad she did. 
With him, she is always living like it could be the last time because one day it will be. 
And she doesn’t want to have any regrets. 
Timo kicks her bedroom door open then shut before dropping her on the bed. She grabs at his swimsuit, pushing it down his wide hips and thighs. His cock juts out against her mouth as she greedily laps her tongue at him. His fingers tangle into her hair then she rolls her lips down him. His balls tighten immediately, head knocking back, desperate groan shoving from his throat. His fingerprints bleed into her scalp, putting pressure to shove her down his shaft more. She chokes on him and precum oozes into her mouth. 
“Off.” He commands. “I’m not coming anywhere but inside of you.”
Emma’s stomach drops at his comment, excitement and anticipation rushing through her body as she waves for him to get on the bed. He sits down, then she shoves him the rest of the way to his back. She puts her fingers on his chin, then turns his face to the right, so they’re staring at their reflection in her mirror.
“If you won’t let others watch, you better watch. The entire time.” Timo’s tongue pauses in mid lick of his lips. He settles a bit more into the bed, then reaches a hand up to slap her ass, then harshly grip it.
“Saddle up, Hischier.”
Emma smirks as she lowers her hips. She lets her pussy lips kiss his cock then tilts them back up. His hips chase at her and she tisks him, shoving her hands into his chest. Then she does it again and again, until he can’t keep his eyes on them in the mirror because they’re screwed shut in agony.
“Timo.” She chastises him. 
“I am nicer to you than this.” He points out. Her torturous behavior has him close to flipping her over and pinning her down with a hand on the back of her neck. She can feel it in the way his hands shake on her. 
“Maybe. But me being nice isn’t what keeps you coming back for more.” She turns his face back to the mirror. “Watch.”
Once satisfied with his eyes back in place, she grips the base of his shaft, rubbing it through her wet slit. She tilts her head to the side, rubbing him through again, biting her lip and moaning her appreciation for him. She does this until she can’t stand it, then slides him back to her entrance and presses her hips down. 
She swallows Timo is one press, more than ready, dripping even, at their fun both outside and in here. Timo’s fingers grip her hips tightly. Emma holds his hands on her, loosening his grip on purpose so she can roll on him the way she wants to. Timo moves his hands to her wrists, gripping them to watch her use her hands on her own body to keep steady. She moves like a wake on a lake, rolling then collapsing, shifting up and down to build enough momentum for them both to reach their next high. 
“I love watching you fuck me.” Timo grunts. She can already feel the way he is coming undone beneath her. She turns to look at his face in the mirror, seeing the way his eyes scrunch tight again.
“Timo, let go.” Emma coos to him. 
“No, it feels too fucking good. Want it to last forever.” He groans. “Fondue… running hills… um.. the pythagorean theorem…” 
Emma laughs, inadvertently tightening her pussy around him as she sits fully on his cock. Her ass rests on the top of his thighs as she rolls her hips in a circle.
“Oh you’re killing me.” He groans, bringing a hand to his forehead. He licks his lips, looking up at her blissed out face. 
Sex with Timo is so fun. He’s so charming and funny, always making her laugh even as he tries not to finish early. He also knows exactly what she needs. He breaks his hands away from hers, lifting her ass to hold her up as he begins to pound into her. 
“You’re having too much fun torturing me.” He hisses at her. “Need you to explode all over me, baby.” 
Emma shivers in his arms, nipples tightening from the force of his thrusts. Maybe she should take the tempo back from him, but she doesn’t want to. Not when it feels this damn exquisite. The room fills with the sound of skin smacking together. Wetness drips down Timo’s shaft from her core. She bring her hands up to her nipples, tweaking them as she begins to pant desperately on top of him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She squeaks out, sounding pornographic as he hits that spot inside of her she needs. “Timo!” She wails out, then collapses forward onto his chest. Her eyes screw shut as her orgasm rocks her, squeezing the cum from Timo’s tip immediately. He jerks up into her a few more times, pressing her ass back down to collect all of him before he stops, completely sheltered inside of her. 
Emma’s cheek glues to Timo’s sweaty chest below her. A voice in the back of her mind whispers that maybe this for a while wouldn’t be so bad. But the cold dose of reality is that Timo lives 6,000 miles away from her for most of the year. She gets him at his best. This has to be enough for her, or she needs to walk away. Right now before this feeling in her chest blooms into a full blown problem she’ll have to face.
Emma pushes up to a sitting position, stretching her arms high for a moment before slipping off of Timo. He slides out of her, flattening against his abdomen. Emma strolls into her adjoining bathroom, shutting the door to clean herself up. When she comes out, Timo is laying propped up on her pillows. She tosses him a clean washcloth. He cleans himself with it, then reaches out a hand for her to join him in bed again. Emma shakes her head slowly.
“Nico will be home soon.” She expects resistance, but Timo nods in understanding.
“Do you want me to grill your steak before I go?”
“Oh. No, I can do it. I know how to grill.”
“Of course you do.” He sighs like he is tired, then pushes himself off her bed.
He goes over to his bag, pulling out fresh underwear, shorts and a t-shirt to change into. He stuffs his dirty clothes into the designer bag while Emma re-dresses in a light, athletic outfit. She fixes her pony tail then leads him out of her room towards the front door. 
Behind her, Timo’s slow footsteps follow. He pauses in the main area, scanning around for anything he might have missed. He sees his Adidas hat resting on the counter next to Nico’s, plopping it back onto his head backwards after slicking his hair back. 
Then he follows Emma to the door. Timo parked down the street to avoid the neighbors seeing his car as well as Nico incase they were cutting time too close. 
“Thank you for this weekend.” Timo says as he hugs her. His scent fills her nostrils full of clean laundry and sex. Emma presses her nose into his shoulder, furious with the way her chest pinches at the thought of him slipping from her arms. 
This has never happened before. She doesn’t want him to go. 
This weekend was a terrible fucking idea. It has her brain all scrambled with conflicting priorities and wants. 
She needs to get her shit together. 
“When am I gonna see you again? Summer always go so fast for me.”  He asks, pinching her chin with his thumb and pointer finger. Emma resists the urge to fall into him again, to get lost in the house they’ve been playing. But it’s not what she wants. She wants a successful career and a life that doesn’t revolve around a sports league across the globe.
That’s his dream. Not hers. 
Emma kisses him quickly, fingers pressing into his chest where she soaks up the feel of him under her finger tips for her memories.
“Bye, Timo.” She says as her fingers fall away from his body.
“You didn’t answer me?”
“Because I don’t know when I will.” Timo steps back, huffy with an eye roll. Emma crosses her arms over her chest. “We don’t make plans.” She reminds him.
“No, we just play house.” He laughs. It doesn’t seem genuine or amused. He steps off the porch, hauling his Louis Vuitton duffle bag with him. He pops the trunk of his expensive sports car, then tosses his bag inside with attitude. The trunk closes forcefully, making Emma suck her cheek in response. 
“Drive safe.” She murmurs. He sets her with a steely blue gaze, then pops his sunglasses on, shielding himself from her.
“Have a good summer, Em.” 
Emma keeps her face neutral until his car reverses, then purses her lips as she watches him drive away. 
Well, I guess that ends that, she thinks.
For now.
Read more Timo and Emma here.
28 notes · View notes
fyreflys · 1 year ago
Note
Prompt if you’d like it! Peeta giving his cold to Katniss on accident but since she no longer has a spleen, it turns into a more flu like illness for poor Katniss and Peeta must nurse her back to health (similar to her caring for him in the cave but ya know… #married)
Oooo this is an adorable idea! And I got another prompt that I think I can include that would work perfectly together. MERGE TIME!
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Chicken Noodle Soup
(Katniss’s POV) - Love and Some Verses, Iron & Wine
Everlark period/sick-fic, just fluff fluff fluff
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“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you sick.”
Is what Peeta keeps telling her. Constantly apologizing for transferring his cold. Even though Katniss didn’t even bother trying to keep her distance to avoid getting sick, so really it’s her own fault.
Katniss is pretty sure that no one ever really intentionally tries to get others sick, it’s always an accident. Happens as a result of what being sick means. And she knows Peeta didn’t do it on purpose, he couldn’t possibly have wanted to make her sick as a dog. So the fact that he keeps apologizing, as if there’s any possibility that he did do this on purpose, is beginning to make it feel like maybe he did. That, and it’s getting annoying. Very quickly.
“Peeta,” she groans, “Just- shut up.”
She doesn’t actually mean that. He’s really the only thing keeping her sane right now. She’s been bed ridden for three days now, and if her body didn’t feel like shit, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for a hike in the woods.
“Sorry.” He whispers, dabbing the wet washcloth on her forehead.
Yesterday Peeta dragged her to the doctor, because he’s convinced she’s dying. The doctor just confirmed it’s a bad cold, made worse by the fact that Katniss no longer has a spleen to help her immune system. He gave them some medication that “might” help, and then sent them on their way.
Needless to say, Katniss was not happy. Mostly because Peeta had dragged her out of the house when she felt like shit for no apparent reason.
Peeta was angry too. Kept mumbling something about “malpractice” and the doctor being an “idiot” and then trying to convince her that they need to go to the Capital, to see a “real” doctor.
“Peeta, I’m not sure if you have forgotten, but I’m in exile. Banned, to stay here in twelve for the rest of my life. So no, we cannot go to the Capital.”
She doesn’t mention the fact that she really doesn’t want to be re-reminded of all the terrible things that they’ve seen and had happen to them; most of which happened in the Capital.
“You’re the mockingjay. If something was majorly wrong with you, they’d have to save you.”
“I don’t want to be the mockingjay, anymore.” She’d grumbled as he tucked her back into bed, “and I’ve lived through worse than this.”
He frowned. Much like he is right now, as he looks at her with those big, blue, pleading puppy dog eyes.
“What?” She rasps.
He licks his lips. “I just…I’m so sorry you’re sick.”
She swears his heart is too big for his own good.
“You know what would make me feel better?” She sighs.
He perks up. “What?”
“Cuddle.” She whispers. She’d usually reach out to grab him, but her body feels too much like lead to exert that much energy.
He smiles. “I can do that.”
He peels back the bedsheets, and Katniss shivers at what feels like freezing air. He curls in behind her, gently squeezing her close. She melts against him. The arm around her warm and comforting. Until his hand slips under her shirt and his fingers start tracing patterns on her side, and he begins to pepper kisses to her shoulders. Despite them being small and gentle touches, her nerves feel overly sensitive with how feverish she is, and each soft graze almost feels painful.
“Stop- please,” she whispers, “that- too sensitive.” She mumbles.
“Oh. Sorry.” He places one more peck to her cheek, and then leaves her be.
She falls into sleep like a rock tossed down a ravine, skipping sleep entirely and diving straight into dreams. The world feels like it’s tilting and spinning around her as she dreams. They start out as strange and uncomfortable, but somewhere along the way they get more and more unhinged, twisted visions persisting, until finally-
She startles awake suddenly, eyes snapping open as she gasps for air. The nightmare feels plastered to her eyelids.
“Peeta?” She croaks softly, heart hammering in her chest as a tear slips down her cheek.
But she’s alone. Peeta is nowhere to be seen. She forces herself to reach across the bed behind her in search of him. But he’s not there either.
Momentarily she fears he’s abandoned her, but then she realizes that’s ridiculous. She couldn’t escape him even if she wanted to.
She tries to shake the nightmare from her head. Desperately trying to imagine something else, like- Deer. Deer and squirrels, prancing through the forest. The nightmare was not real not real not real, as Peeta would say.
She takes a deep breath. Her entire body aches painfully. Specifically her lower back and her hips and- oh.
Even sick, and aching all over, she knows this feeling well.
“Damn it.” She huffs.
She supposes it was about time this happened again. She doesn’t bother keeping track. There’s no use with how irregular she is.
“Peeta.” She calls, but her voice is weak.
He doesn’t come. Where is he? She sighs. She’s going to have to do this herself, isn’t she?
She wills herself to gather any remaining energy she has to sit up. It takes a few minutes to convince herself.
I could just wait here, until he comes back-
No.
She sits up suddenly, impulsively, not giving herself a chance to talk herself out of it. Her head spins, pain pounding through her skull. She coughs, clutching her head.
When the throbbing passes she manages to will her legs to dangle over the side of the bed. And then on the count of three she stands. She’s shaky, and the air is freezing agaisnt her feverish skin, and it’s awful.
Just get to the bathroom-
She makes it a few steps towards the door. And then she stumbles. She just barely catches the doorknob. She sends the door slamming closed as she falls.
“Katniss?!” Peeta shouts from down stairs.
She rolls over onto her back, and the world feels like it’s still spinning. He comes rushing into the bedroom, crouching down when he sees her.
“Oh my god are you okay?” Hands are immediately at her head, feeling for any bumps or bleeding, “What happened? Why are you out of bed?”
He sits and sets her head in his lap, brushing hair out of her face.
“Bathroom.” She whispers. “Just. Fell.”
“You should have called for me I would have helped.”
“I did.” She breathes, and even talking is exhausting. With Peeta right above her the world finally stops spinning.
He frowns. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was making pasta.”
She takes in a breath through her mouth, nose too stuffy. “Bathroom.”
“Well- I think we should take a moment. You just- what, fell trying to walk? That’s pretty concerning,” He feels her forehead, “and you’re really burning up, gosh.”
She could have told him she had a fever. It feels like it’s radiating through her bones.
“Toilet,” her tongue clicks softly in her mouth, feeling dry, “Bleeding.”
“Bleeding? What- where? Why didn’t you say you were bleeding! Oh my god-“ he starts to shuffle, pulling at her clothes to find the source.
“Period.” She groans, just about fed up with him.
“Oh.” He pauses. “Right. Okay. Let’s get that taken care of then.”
He shuffles to sit her up against the wall, and then scoops her up bridal style. He carefully sets her down by the toilet, holding on as he pulls down her sweats and underwear in one fell swoop.
And yep- there it is. A massacre in her pants.
Peeta helps her sit, making sure she’s stable enough to sit up on her own. He pulls off her sweats and underwear, turning on the sink to set them in.
“Cold,” she whispers.
“Cold? You’re cold?”
Well- yeah, she kind of is. Despite feeling like she’s burning up from the inside, the floor and the toilet seat and the air is freezing against her skin. But she’s referring to the water.
“Yeah,” she breathes, “But-water. Cold water.”
“You need cold water? I can get you water. You’re probably thirsty you’ve been asleep for like four hours.”
Okay, yes, that too. She could use a glass of water.
“Yes, but- blood. Needs cold water.”
“Oh! Yeah, okay. Cold water. Right.”
She closes her eyes, slumping on the toilet as she pees. Peeta leaves to grab stuff from the bedroom. He returns with a fresh pair of clothes. He holds a cup of water up to her lips, and she sips. It feels like heaven down her throat.
“Thanks.” She breathes.
He just pecks her forehead. “How bout I run you a short bath? Luke warm. Try to get your body temp down. And you could really use a shower.”
She groans.
“I know- I know. But it will make you feel better, I promise.”
She just grumbles. He gets to work running a bath, and then scrubs the blood out of her underwear under the sink. He struggles to get a pad into the clean pair of undies, and Katniss finally wills herself to use the little energy she does have to show him. He kisses her cheek.
“Right. Got it. Now let’s get you in.”
She complains, but doesn’t have the energy to fight against him. He pulls off her sweaty t-shirt, and picks her up and sets her down in the tub. The water feels freezing at first. She yelps, clutching at him.
“I know- I know it feels cold but I promise it will help. You’re burning up Katniss. We need to cool you down.”
She holds onto him, and he presses kisses against her head. After a few minutes it starts to feel okay. He gently pours water through her hair. He scrubs in shampoo and rinses. He gently scrubs her with a warm soapy washcloth after he pulls the drain, just under her arms and between her legs, barely batting an eye at the blood. They’ve both seen enough of it for a lifetime. He turns on the shower head to rinse her off. The water feels like freezing needles against her overly sensitive skin. By the time he gets her out and finishes toweling her off she’s pissed.
She glowers at him from the toilet as he dresses her. He ignores her scathing eyes as he sprays in conditioner and brushes her hair, fumbling to put it in a makeshift braid.
“There! See, all better!” He smiles when he’s done.
She is not amused. Yes, her body feels less like a boiling fire, but she still hurts. And despite him doing all the work, she’s exhausted. But she’s too angry and stubborn to admit it, or even consider closing her eyes for some shut eye.
He chuckles. “You’re such a sourpuss when you’re sick, you know that?”
“That was hell.” She snips.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah yeah, okay Haymitch.”
He pulls her off the toilet and pulls up her underwear and pants. He gently scoops her up.
“You want to set up camp downstairs on the couch? That way it’s easier to get my attention if you need something. Also I’m making you soup.”
She gives a grunt, and winces as the pain that radiates up and down her spine and belly.
“I’ll grab you some painkillers.” He adds on.
She would usually turn those down. But at this point she’ll take them.
He gently lays her on the couch. He runs back upstairs to grab linens. He comes back down with arms full of blankets and pillows. He drops them in a heap on the floor. He leaves again. Katniss looses track of all the things he runs off and gets, eyes slipping closed.
He takes her temperature.
He hisses, “One o’ two. Yeah. You’re definitely getting meds.” Which he shoves into her mouth very shortly afterward. He tries not to look worried, but she can tell that he is. She’s worse than she was yesterday. He forces her to take the medication the doctor gave them the day before. She doesn’t have the energy to fight him.
He tucks her in under one blanket, but gives her plenty of pillows. He sets tissues and a glass of water on the side table next to her head. He kisses her forehead.
“Anything else you need?” He says softly.
Probably. But right now she’s exhausted. And talking is too much energy. So she just hums.
“Okay. Soup should be ready in thirty minutes or so. Do you want me to wake you up or let you sleep?”
Truthfully, she wants him to curl in beside her on the couch and not leave her side. Because with him pressed against her, she has a semblance of relief.
Instead she just grunts. He pecks her forehead again, chuckling softly.
“Okay.”
And then she’s left alone. And despite being tired, she can’t seem to fall sleep. The pain is just too much. Enough that she’d toss and turn, but she doesn’t have the energy to do so. So instead she lays motionless in agony, waiting for meds to kick in.
It’s possible she does drift off. But it seems like each time her eyes open the grandfather clock by her mothers old bedroom door hasn’t moved an inch.
Finally Peeta reappears, with a steaming bowl in hands.
“Chicken noodle soup, for m’lady.” He bows, just for the dramatics.
He helps her sit up, and carefully spoons it to her lips. With how much pain shes in, the thought of food makes her nauseous. But Peeta coaxes her to eat. And she does. One small spoonful at a time. With how stuffed her nose is she can barely taste it, but what she does taste is good.
And it reminds her of the cave, in their first games. As she spoon fed him. Monitoring his leg. Trying everything she could think of to keep him alive.
Thankfully, now is nothing like that. This is peaceful, and warm, and safe.
With food in her belly she realizes how hungry she is. And she just about scarfs down the rest of the bowl, along with the hunk of bread he dips in the broth. And she feels like she has a little more energy.
“You want more?” He asks softly.
She shakes her head. She feels too full. Any more and she might puke.
“Your appetite is back. That’s a good thing.”
“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She grumbles.
“Like- actually?” He freezes, shifting as if ready to grab a bin.
“No- just- a lot of food. Nauseous from the pain.”
He frowns. “The pain meds should have kicked in already. You look better. Less pale.” He feels her forehead. “You don’t feel as hot.”
She winces. “Cramps.”
His face relaxes. “Oh.”
She closes her eyes. With a full belly she’s ready to pass out.
“What if…I tried to rub them out?” He says softly.
Her eyes flicker open lazily. “Please. And- my back- please.”
“Yeah, yeah of course.” He leans in press a kiss to her forehead.
He gently pushes her to lay down. He tugs up her shirt and pulls the waistband of her pajama pants lower.
“Where does it hurt?” He asks softly.
She slowly moves to touch, fingers almost feeling numb against her own skin as she traces just inside of her pelvic crests, and down below her belly button. His warm hands are still almost too much against her feverish skin when he reaches out. But she needs this.
He’s far too gentle.
“Harder,” she whispers, “like bread.”
He’s good at kneading bread.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“
“There’s no way you could make me feel worse than I already do. Please.”
And finally his palms and thumbs press in. She urges more, and more, and finally gets impatient and shifts his hands to press right there and- oh. It feels so good she actually moans.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh?”
“Shut up.” She gasps.
He grins wickedly. But doesn’t comment on any more of her breathless gasps as he digs in and finally gives her relief.
“When- you’re done,” she breathes, “gonna need- bathroom.”
He pauses, “Do you have to pee? I’m literally pressing like right on your bladder-“
“No- new pad.” Because he’s quite literally kneading the blood right out of her. Which would usually be disgusting, but right now the relief feels too good for her to care.
“Oh. Okay.” And he keeps going.
She nearly falls asleep with his hands on her stomach. She still hurts, and the pain still radiates through her bones, but the stretch of her cramping muscles is almost heavenly. She closes her eyes, and Peeta presses kisses to her shoulders, trailing down to her stomach. He rubs softly after he pulls back, hands sliding over her hips.
“You want me to do your back?” He asks softly.
She hums. He helps flip her over. His hands and fingers roam over her skin, pressing and pulling all the way up her spine and between her shoulders. She practically melts into the couch as he soothes her aches. His lips ghost over her skin in subtle kisses, and she never wants it to end.
Eventually he pulls away, tugging her shirt back down.
“Bathroom?” He asks.
She grumbles. “Don’t wanna move.”
He hums. He forces her off the couch anyways, and drags her to the bathroom. She changes things herself, and then he helps her back to the couch.
“I’m gonna eat and then we can snuggle. If you want. I can turn on the TV.”
She just grunts. He turns on the screen above their fireplace mantle, and flips through channels. He lands on a show they’ve binge watched over the years, and then leaves for the kitchen. She zones out the sounds and clatter that he makes. Finally he sits down by her feet with a bowl of soup, and her eyelids feel heavy. She drifts halfway between awake and asleep, until he curls up with her. He presses a kiss to her temple.
“Thank you.” She whispers. He’s done more than enough for her. And she knows he’d do everything if he had to. And she is thankful.
“Of course.” He breathes. And pecks her lips.
She smiles, and uses the little energy she does have to snake an arm around him and hold him close. Their foreheads knock together.
“I love you.” He breathes softly.
She hums, “Love you too.”
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bluelolblue · 5 months ago
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Hiiiii I’m excited to work on your last ask today!! ✨But also:
I liked your post about the comfort plush, that’s so cuuuuuute! What are some things Santino does to comfort himself and to cope when things are hard? (Can be healthy or unhealthy coping mechanisms 😈) Things like hugging that plush, deep breathing…smoking lmao
AAYY YAYAYY I get zoomies every time I get an ask from you THANK YOU SO MUUUUUCHHHHH 💖💙💖💙💖💙💖
Ehhehe I can't wait to finish the sequel for the TOSOP so the whole plushie thing will make more sense 🤭
Okay the plushie is from his childhood, so it really means a lot to him. I don't wanna spoil it too much for the fic, but it's something that's special to him. Just so many memories. You'll see I promise :)
A healthy way to cope for him is John massaging him! He can be really tense and John can feel it while massaging him. His shoulders, his back, his legs. And he feels so light after it, like he can't move, he is just spread out on the bed and he feels amazing. Bc I think John can SQUEEZE HARD. He wants to be gentle but c'mon it's Santino. He wants it hard. So, Santino is just... exhausted but in a good way yk it's relaxing.
Smoking is a way for him to cope when things get hard. It's one of the unhealthy coping mechanisms that he does. He gets that urge to do it. When he's really stressed out or something pisses him off... he pulls out the cigarettes. I do think they calm him down a bit, but then again it also still affects his nervous system
So um... it helps but also doesn't. Depends really on the day I think as well.
Another unhealthy coping mechanism I'd say is drinking wine (specifically red wine). Okay, he is not an alcoholic obviously, but sometimes he would pour himself a glass of wine. And when John catches him doing that, Santino just goes, "Well, it relaxes me, leave me alone >:[" I mean, John can't do much but to tell him to go easy on it. A little bit of alcohol can't hurt. And he never gets drunk, he just wants to relax.
Deep breathing is more of the healthier way to cope. But he usually does it when John is with him, because John has to remind him to do that. And he often does it with him to encourage him, since Santino kinda feels embarrassed about it. John holds his hand and is like "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. C'mon just like we practiced." Sure, he does it alone, too but most of the times John has to be with him for that.
It gets a bit suggestive from here :]
Okay, another coping mechanism is... sexy time. Another way he wants to relax is with sex. I think it's a fact that... masturbation and sex can help relaxing... bc of some hormones? Something like that I think. So, of course, Santino would be all clingy and flirty with John. And he would rub against him in bed until he gets what he wants. John knows it's one of his coping mechanics, so he gives it to him. But he feels bad that Santino is that desperate and that this is the way to relax. He just wants the best for him. Sometimes, it's like a slow, desperate sex but sometimes when Santino needs it rough... it can also be like that. And well masturbation as well.
A little extreme coping mechanism is destroying stuff! Literally tearing off papers or destroying random things. Usually, John has to calm him down in those situations and tell him that if he wants to destroy something, he can, but he wants to be with him during it in case he hurts himself accidentally. John just wants him to be safe. He guides him through it.
Another more relaxing way of coping is... go for a swim in the sea! If they're on a vacation or just near sea, it's something Santino likes, it's relaxing to him. And well my headcanon that he loves going to the beach. He needs to inhale that sea scent, it makes him calm. And swimming in it, preferably if John is with him... he feels happy and relaxed ^ ^
There are probably some more ways for him to relax and cope but these are the ones I had I mind for now. As you can see I wanna go to the sea again, I have that urge to just GO TO THE BEACH AND SWIM IN THE SEA
Anyways, Santino has lots of coping mechanisms, some are healthy and some are not really... but it's easier when John is with him :)
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sirharrisonschuester · 2 years ago
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switchingolliesmythe​:
And that is something a lot of dominants either don’t understand or find very little care about.  But hey, little things like that don’t seem to bother most in the system.  Ha.  As much as I wish more people took your approach to it all. The amount of dominants who think just because you have a lower mark means that they’re your god. Regardless of claim status, is pretty staggering. 
OoO. Suddenly I see you giving out weed behind the bleachers or something.  Look at you, the little rebel. Granted, I was drinking wine from a pretty early age but I do have the benefit of being European. So, it’s far, far less scandalous.  Look at you, wearing a mask to play the good little son. That’s kind of impressive.  With my father? Long term, I’d end up in the slave markets. Short term. He wouldn’t exactly be shy about…his feelings on the matter. Let’s just say that. Pretty much. He’s pretty well respected among Dominant’s back home. And they tend to be full of shady backroom deals. so. 
Pft. I’m happy to prove it anytime, Sir. 
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Fair enough. I was just giving options. Though Wyatt did recently tell me I screamed “bottom energy.” So. It could just be that. But I do look very, very pretty all tied up. Pft. Sir. You’d be addicted to me in moments. 
While my father was a headmaster, my mother was a counselor. I’ve always been closer to her, so I suppose her empathic nature rubbed off on me. Either that or all the many pamphlets she gave to me and my siblings had longer lasting effects than what I thought. And yes, I have met my fair share as asshole Dominants that even tend to look down on me because I’m a chef and cooking is something that submissives should do... 
PM: I supposed it’s better if prying eyes don’t find out even more than they already know, but that's pretty much how it went. If you needed any drugs, then I was the person to go to. However, I kept it to weed, shrooms, acid, E, and the occasional coke. Just the party drugs and not the hardcore ones. Really, I didn’t realize that the Headmaster was so corruptible that he deny your claim just so you’d end up in the auction house if he’d want it. But I suppose everyone has their price, and sadly it sounds like your father has more than enough money to pay for it. Again, I’m just surprised that he could have so much influence on your life even in a small town in Ohio. 
Well according to Wyatt, you might get to prove it on the plane ride...
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The only part I was opposed to was the tying up part. When I do choose to be fucked, I still like to be in control because I’m still a Dominant no matter what. Plus, I’d need to see what you’re working with before I agreed to that because if I am going to get fucked, it’d better be worth my time. 
Lovely food, by the way. 10/10.
I’m very please to hear that you enjoyed your meal. I don’t think I recall ever getting your name, and it would be a shame to only know you as Sebastian’s brother.
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@switchingolliesmythe
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mangoshorthand · 2 years ago
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Before A Fall [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch 1 (Hard Feelings Part 2)
SUMMARY: As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal? (weekly updates) Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve
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In this first chapter of Part 2...it's pretty much just sex and scene setting. Spanking and daddies and edging, oh my!
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(Lots of) smut below: proceed at your own risk
Chapter One: The Alarm Clock
You've settled into Academy domesticity well. It was strange to go from living alone in a tiny apartment to a huge, four storey family compound, yet you find yourself at home. Sure, it can be a little crazy living with four to eight other people at any given time, (including a capricious seven-year-old), but it’s more than worth it.
Yourself, Five and Diego’s little family are the only permanent residents, with the others coming and going on a more ad-hoc basis. Viktor, an incredibly talented violinist, mainly sleeps in his apartment near the concert hall, while Luther and Sloane have a base in the city. Klaus, much to Five’s annoyance, has taken over the largest training room as his studio. He produces strange, avant-garde pieces at irregular intervals and often leaves brightly coloured footprints in the courtyard. None of you are entirely sure where he’s sleeping.
Throwing some peppercorns into the dry pan toasting the rest of your whole spices, you rotate your hips to Tina Turner’s Private Dancer, playing over the sound system. Raising the wooden spoon to use as an imaginary microphone, you lip sync the chorus, emoting dramatically. As Tina builds towards the key-change, you can’t even let out your strangled yell as your neck is jerked abruptly backwards; the sound only coming when you’re pinned to an attacker behind you. His forearm flexes, applying pressure to your throat.  
“And with that, you’re dead.”
He releases you.
“Fuck you, Five!” You raise a hand to your throat, massaging away the little lingering pain.
“If you’re going to be attacked, it will be when you least expect it- when you’re most relaxed. Whoever tries to hurt you isn’t going to give you the courtesy of fighting fair.”
“Shithead.” You shake the spice-pan a little too violently, the spices giving off their aroma as they toast. Still behind you, Five kisses your neck and puts his hands on the swell of your hips.
“I’m sorry dear one,” he rubs you a little, easing your tension with practiced hands. “you’ve been doing well sparring but your reflexes are still sup-par.”
“But I’m cooking.”
“Well we’ll have to hope someone who wants you dead will give you a second to turn the burner off and square up.” You breathe out hard through your nose.
“So I’m supposed to spend my entire life on a hair-trigger, just waiting to be murdered?”
“If you want to stay safe, yeah.”
“That’s no way to live.”
“You get used it.” he mumbles, laying his chin on your shoulder, “Smells good.”
“Hm.” You break away from him, removing the pan from the heat and readying the spice grinder. You’re unable to shake annoyance.
Hands back in his jacket pockets, Five crosses the kitchen to his newly-installed wine fridge. The one with temperature-controlled zones that you’d teased him about so mercilessly. Bending from the waist, he runs his eyes over the white wines he has lined up. He’s less experienced with white than red wines, (the former having not fared as well in long-storage during the apocalypse), but now he’s happily making up for lost time.
He straightens up with a Chenin Blanc and pours you both a generous glass.
“Salud”, he says, handing you your glass and holding up his own. You clink with good grace but don’t verbally return his good wishes, “want me to chop those onions?”
Though still not completely happy with Five, you begin to relax again after half a glass of wine and some more music. The meal starts to come together, perhaps slightly more slowly than if you were alone. Five’s particularly pedantic about measurements, so you find yourself waiting by the pot as he makes sure he has precisely the right amount of tomato. When the sauce starts to simmer, you’re able to focus on finishing your wine. It's another excellent pick by Five, you have to admit.
Standing at the sound system, he changes the song. The sultry tones of I Can’t Stop Loving You fade into being; Ray Charles is his usual, bluesy-voiced self. You feel a smile form in spite of yourself. You know what he’s doing, so you don’t give him the satisfaction of turning round.
Clearly deciding that he needs to escalate his attack, Five approaches. Again, he presses his chest against your back and glides his long fingers around your hips, coming to rest on your stomach. He sways to the music, bringing your body in time with his. To show him that he’s not getting around you this easily, you ignore him and give the sauce a stir. This causes him to pull out his trump card; still swaying, his mouth against your ear, he pours his honey-baritone into your ear.
“Though long ago, they still make me blue…”
“That’s not fair”, you say, finally. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice as he replies.
“You know I fight dirty.”
He continues to sway your body with his, lightly kissing your ear and neck during the instrumentations and singing to you quietly. You had never considered yourself the sentimental sort before meeting him, but his old-fashioned sense of romance was simply irresistible. You close your eyes and lay your head back onto his chest
After a pleasant meal together, the dishes all done, you head to bed. On the way up to the entrance hall, Five stops to kiss you on the basement stairs, leaning you up against the wall. You deepen the kiss, running your hands beneath his jacket and around his waistcoated body. When you feel him start to respond, you rapidly jerk your knee upwards and into his crotch. It’s not a hard blow; had it not taken him by surprise, he would have been able to parry or ignore it but, as it is, he doubles over, letting out a little ‘ah!’ of pain.
“I’m sorry Five,” you say, “but if someone’s going to knee you in the balls then it’ll be when you least expect it, when you’re most relaxed.”
“You-”
But you run away from him laughing. He pursues you almost immediately, training and fortitude overcoming pain. You outpace him, barely, but then he blinks directly in front of you as you turn into the entrance hall. Still laughing madly, you dodge him effectively as he makes to grab you.
“Nicely done!” he remarks, starting to laugh too as he tears after you again, “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to kill you.”
“Whatever!” you shout as you make for the stairwell, leaping steps three at a time. Before you reach the second floor, you hear him blink again but he doesn’t seem to reappear. You slow your steps, needing to be both alert and quiet, (the latter because of the sleeping child on the second floor). You make your way stealthily up the rest of the stairs towards the attic, ready for him to ambush you again.
He does so just as you’re about to place your hand on the bedroom door. Grabbing you again from behind. He blinks you both into the bedroom.
“Got you.”
Dragging you roughly towards the bed, he shoves you onto it, his eyes dark with sadistic mischief. You intend to spring up, but before you can he pins your arms above your head with one hand and weighs your torso down with his upper body.
“You’re gonna get it now,” he smiles threateningly, but you just give him a sassy look. Clearly not getting the contrition he’d hoped for, he uses his free hand to unbutton your jeans. Then, in one movement, he uses the waistband to pull you over onto your side, your arms twisting above your head. He pulls your jeans and panties down in one.
Without giving you a chance to prepare for what’s coming, he slaps your left asscheek hard, making you squeal in pain. He doesn’t wait for the pain to bloom outwards before bringing his hand down again, right in the same spot with the same intensity. As you let out another yelp of pain, he rapidly removes his tie and secures your arms, wrists down, to the bedframe, trying the knots tight.
He stands up, the imprint of his erection clear against his trousers. For a moment, his burning eyes catch yours. It’s a moment of confirmation. Sure, you can stop this at any time, but until then he’s going to really make you pay. He crosses to the wardrobe and extracts one of your scarves. This, he uses to gag you. Like his tie, he knots it tight. The material bites hard into your mouth, effectively stopping any sound escaping. Now he can really let loose. You feel your pussy get wet with anticipation and the heat radiating outwards from his last blows.
Roughly, he puts the small bedside alarm clock into your hand.
“Throw or drop this when you need to bitch out on me.”
You nod, letting him know you understand. The use of the word ‘when’ rather than ‘if’ is as arousing as it is unsettling.
He walks down to the foot of the bed and pulls your jeans and panties down to your ankles before flipping you over onto your front. At least your arms are less twisted now. You grip the alarm clock in your left hand, its corners digging into your palm.
“I want you face down, ass up,” you shuffle into position, letting your asscheeks spread wide and your face press into the pillow. You can hear the floorboards creek as he walks around the bed. You’re unable to see him but it’s hard to not imagine him, arms folded and thick brows raised as he inspects the sight in front of him.
“It’s going to hurt for you to sit down tomorrow,” he sounds almost regretful, as if he’s already administered the full punishment, “a shame.”
Waiting is the worst part. It feels like every hair stands erect. Your heart flutters. Suddenly, the usually cosy attic room feels drafty, a cold breeze tingling your skin. You feel him move as if to strike… but he stills his hand before it makes contact. He chuckles at your instinctive flinch and then very gently runs his finger along the line where your labia meet. You shudder, but before you can register the tingle of pleasure, he slaps your ass with a whip-like crack and an answering sting.
He focuses all his efforts on your left ass cheek, switching between front and back handed slaps, putting no small part of his considerable strength into every blow.
“You. Bad. Little. Fucking. Bitch”
You scream into your gag, tears of pain coming into your eyes. He doesn’t let up, sometimes making little grunts of effort as he spanks you. The smack upon smack is almost unbearable even as your pussy becomes unbearably wet and the intensity of your arousal becomes itself a little painful. He stops hitting you. When he leans down to look you straight in the eye, his hands are back in his jacket pockets.
“Have I made my point yet?”
You grip the alarm clock even tighter, white hot pain blooming through your ass. You like the idea that you’re giving him more trouble than he anticipated. Something about hearing him grunt as he whales on you is hot in its own right. He eyes the alarm clock.
With a rueful sigh, he returns to your ass, this time painting your right cheek red. He brings his palm down so hard that your body lurches from side to side. He’s starting to breathe hard now with the effort. Even as tears roll down your face, you concentrate all your effort on not giving in. One thing combat training with Five had taught you was endurance.
When he seems to feel satisfied with the color, he rubs a hand on each cheek, none too gently. He pulls them as wide apart as they will go before crushing them harshly together. You cry out a little as the already flayed flesh aches.
He reappears beside you, jacket off and fingers steepled together in front of his chest.
“You had enough?”
You look back insolently, shaking your hands within your bonds to show the still-gripped clock. He laughs.
“Wow. I got a feeling you might regret saying that.”
He unties your hands from the bed and flips you onto your back again. Your ass throbs as it makes contact with the mattress. After tying your hands securely above your head again, he reaches into the beside cabinet and grabs a more recent addition to his small collection of sex toys; it’s a little G-spot vibrator he bought with you in mind. He sits between your legs, forcing them wide with one hand and the weight of his body.
He turns it on and applies it to your clit. Already aroused, the sudden vibration sends electricity down all your limbs. He lets the vibe do most of the work, sometimes swirling it delicately, like he’s adding fine detail to an oil painting. He watches you moan against your gag, his face taking on that scholarly air that sometimes comes upon him while he pleasures you. Like you’re a tricky equation that needs to be squared.
You twist a little, the direct contact slightly too intense. He pushes down on you harder, pinning you to the bed. Your legs are fully spread for him; and you’re unable to do damn thing about it. As your orgasm builds slightly painfully, you feel your pussy throb and wetness pool as you get nearer and nearer to the crisis. You feel your thighs tremble beneath him and you call out just as you reach the precipice…
And then he removes the vibrator.
“Oh, did you want to come?”
He turns the vibe down to its lowest setting and reapplies it to your clit. You sob slightly at the not-enough pleasure of it. You try your best to wriggle down onto it, to press it more firmly into you, but he has you held fast. You can feel your juices dripping down on to the bed, your whole pussy aflame with denied release.
He wiggles the vibe, causing you to feel a tiny, too small spasm. He laughs at the desperation in your eyes and the pained ‘Mm-m’ that forces its way through your gag.
“So we’re already struggling, huh?”
He turns up the power a tiny amount. It’s enough to pull an intense, wavering whine from you, but not to get you there. You tense up, the base of your spine lifting from the bed. Sensing your discomfort rising, he wiggles the toy. You feel as if you’re about to explode, cry or both. You try to move again, wailing with frustrated arousal. You want to press yourself harder onto the vibrator or else relieve your thrumming clit by getting away, but he doesn’t let you. You sob shakily and throw the alarm clock onto the floor.
“There we go.”
He turns the vibrator up, it’s agonising pleasure. Your overstimulated clit burns as you scream and cry through your orgasm. He lets up on your body slightly, allowing you some room to thrash against your bonds. After the final surges subside, he removes the vibe and leaves you to tremble and pant on the bed.
He removes the scarf from your mouth.
“All ok?”
In response to your weak confirmation, he kisses you briefly and then stands, undressing himself as he looks down at you.
“I'd say you look suitably sorry.”
You neither confirm nor deny, looking up at him as he strips off his last clothing and finally strokes himself a little. He looks achingly hard. Again, he unties you from the bedframe, leaving your hands still tied behind you. He takes a second to cup and stroke each breast, running the tip of each finger over your nipples before instructing you to retake your head down, ass up position. Once you’re there, he kneels between your legs and rubs himself between your folds, breath hitching a little as he enjoys the warm wetness on the head of his dick.
He doesn’t waste time, pushing himself into you and filling you pleasantly. You breathe out shakily. There’s something about being on his dick that makes you feel like it’s where you were born to be. After giving you a second to adjust to the fullness, he begins to fuck you like this, snapping his pelvis rhythmically towards his hands clasped around your hips. Your sore ass protests a little at the repeated pressure.
As he speeds up, he grabs the loose end of his tie and pulls your hands up and backwards. Your head lifts off the pillow, your arms stretching behind you. The slight discomfort is even more of a turn on, and this new position clearly does something for him too. He groans and speeds his thrusts, becoming more erratic the longer he goes.
“Oh fuck,” you drawl. His dick rubs your g-spot rhythmically, making up for the ache in your asscheeks as his body slams into them.
After he comes and his deep-throated grunts subside, he circles his hips slightly, deep inside you, making the most of his receding pleasure. After pulling out of you, he bends to kiss each of your asscheeks and unties you. You relax your stiff body, laying face down on the bed.
“Ok?”
“Yeah,” you pant, “It’s sore.”
Blinking to and from the medical room in his bathrobe, he returns with a large ice pack: one of the many supplies kept to patch up the members of Reginald’s child militia. What would he think if he knew the use to which Number Five was putting it now?
He lies beside you and holds the cold pad to your buttocks. 
"Does that feel better?"
You nod.
"My beautiful girl." he whispers, his voice soft. He kisses just above your lip, "I love you, my angel. Anything you need, just tell me."
He soothes you with more endearments, kisses and embraces, his arms warm and his voice low. He's loving, attentive and tireless in this. When the swelling has subsided, you slip between the bedsheets together. Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555
Masterpost Alternatively, join me on AO3.  Here is a link to the whole series
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sublimecatgalaxy · 3 years ago
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Brown Eyed Girl- Part Two
Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader
Summary: The Reader finally bucks up enough courage to tell her mom about her situation but in the meantime, her eldest sister overhears and wants to get involved. Eventually, the Reader and Suze escape Cassie's wrath and make their way over to a local clinic, coming up with a plan on how to tell Elliot of her news.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Mentions of sex, pregnancy, swearing, angst.
A/n: Hello all, I'm sorry this took so long to get out, I've really been struggling mentally within the last few days and this was just pushed onto the back burner. Now that requests are closed, I'll hopefully be able to relax a bit more.
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I hate the fight or flight response.
I hate every body system involved, every hormone release, every physiological response that happens in the quick actions that take place when you’re stressed out beyond belief. Like me now. The clammy hands, pounding heart, the way my eyes seem to be unable to focus on anything around me, the lurching of my stomach every time my lips part to get my mothers attention. Every inch of my body feels like it’s on fire, between that and the nausea creeping up my throat, I must look miserable and unbelievably tired.
I had convinced myself an hour ago to get off of the floor of my bathroom, to brush my teeth especially after an hour of leaning over the toilet, and that I needed to go and tell my mom of my predicament.
And then onto my sisters.
I’m not sure how Lexi would respond, maybe excited. Out of all the people in my household, she was the one who’d be the most excited and supportive of me in this situation, knowing that no matter what I choose to do, she’d be there by my side. Cassie on the other hand, she’d get angry. She’d be bitter from her past choices, angry at me for making the choice that she originally wanted to make but then got manipulated and convinced out of her gut decision. Cassie is the type of person to try to live vicariously through my situation and gain all the sympathy and victimize herself in every way possible.
I’m sure I look like an idiot, standing in the doorway of the living room, watching as my mom focuses deeply on her reality show, a small glass of wine in her hands. Not a big enough glass given the circumstances but I’ll work with it. Maybe it’s for the best that she’s a little tipsy, I’m not sure she’d be able to bear this type of information without some anesthesia.
This has to possibly be the biggest bomb I’ve ever dropped on her, exceeding my failed grade in chemistry last year or that one time I saw my dad at the store. This was going to hit her worse than Cassie telling her she was pregnant or Lexi telling my mom that she was dating Fezco, both things that took my mother days to get over. Based on how she reacted to Cassie that day, my mind keeps going over the different ways she can react, anger, silence, ignoring me for days on end, not being a help at all. She helped Cassie but I don’t want the help that Cassie received and that was almost scarier. To tell my mom that I want to keep the baby and I want to involve Elliot, someone my mother truly likes, has me wondering about her true stance on pregnancy, especially at my age. Maybe Cassie’s decision was the simplest for my mom to get over, to move on from, to explain. How does she explain to my family members that, at eighteen, I’m pregnant and that I wanted to be a mom, hoping and praying to be a good one. Stepping into the living room, my mom’s eyes flutter over to me, a happy smile on her lips as she pats the seat beside her.
“Come on! Come watch with me, there’s a lot of juicy drama today.” She chuckles, a tired laugh leaving my lips as I make my way across the room, throwing myself down onto the couch next to her. She wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to her as I close my eyes, basking in the calmness, a time where my mom is completely ignorant and unaware of the secret that’s growing inside of me as we sit here in calm silence, the television playing quietly in the background. All of her focus was centered on the program, her brows pulled together in concentration as I smile, melancholy and overall feeling sad that this could be the last time where she doesn’t look at me differently.
Counting to three, I finally speak up.
“Mom?” I whisper, barely catching her attention as she glances down at me, looking back at her TV before taking a second look, her eyes flickering over my anxious and tired expression. “I’ve gotta tell you something.” I straighten a bit, leaning back into the couch as I tuck my knees to my chest, reaching up to wipe the tears that have slipped from my eyes without permission. Her brows pull together, concern and anxious worry spreading across her face as she lets out a small, forced laugh.
“Alright, uh, you’re kinda spookin’ me, kid.” She laughs, mirroring me as she folds her legs underneath her. She looks worried, unsure of me as I clear my throat, my hand reaching in my back pocket to pull out the pregnancy test. Taking a deep breath, I hold it out to her, her eyes leaving mine for a split second, flicking down to the test before looking back up at me. “You’re messing with me?” She offers but I shake my head, setting the test down to pull three more out from my pocket, lining them up on the cushion. Her hand reaches up to cover her shocked expression, tears rising to her eyes as I begin my explanation.
“I thought I had the flu.” I whimper, sniffling loudly as she picks up each one of the tests, making sure they’re accurate and indeed real. “I missed my period but didn’t think I could be pregnant because I’m on birth control and I didn’t miss a day or a dose, I promise. I know this is TMI but Elliot always wears a condom since I’m paranoid about this stuff but- mom,” I pause, her eyes locking with mine as a single tear slips down my cheek, “I’m pregnant. I don’t know how.” I shutter, a violent shiver running down my spine as I run my fingers through my hair, tugging a bit as she stutters over her words. “I’m so sorry, mama, I don’t know what happened-” I get cut off by my mom's arms wrapping tightly around my neck, tugging me to her as I break down.
“Do not apologize.” She whispers, cradling the back of my head as the air gets sucked from my lungs, relief filling me at three simple words. “How long have you known?” She asks, quickly pulling away to cup my cheeks, her thumbs brushing away my tears. “Does Elliot know?” She quizzes once more, my head shaking as I take a deep breath in.
“I wanted to tell you and go to the doctors with you before I told him…” I trail off, my shoulders rolling as I try my best to relax, relieved that out of all the ways she could’ve possibly responded, this was way better than I ever could’ve expected. Her eyes are soft as she looks back down at the tests, a soft smile on her lips as she wipes her tears. “I want to keep it, mom. And I know that you went through this with Cassie but I want to keep mine.” I explain, my voice steady as she nods, her hands gripping mine as my eyes flutter shut, the anxious knot in my stomach unraveling a bit at the knowledge that she’s supportive of my decision and choice.
“What’s going on?” A voice startles us from the doorway, our heads turning to see Cassie in the arch, her eyes flicking between our mother and the tests that lay out in front of me. Her jaw drops, her eyes filling with fury as she stomps up to me, collecting the tests in her hands as she gawks at them. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” She screeches, my whole body jumping as my mom rolls her eyes, huffing as she leans back into the seat. “Are you just so desperate for attention that you did this?” She sneers, a tired sigh leaving my lips as a smirk tugs at the corners of my smile.
“Were you desperate for attention when you did it?” I ask, my mom groaning as she puts an arm between us. “I’m keeping it, Cass. So suck it up and move on with your day. This is between Elliot and I.” I reply cooly, folding my arms over my chest as I stare up at her, her eyes wide as tears form quickly, her hateful gaze turning to my mom.
“You’re letting her do this? Fuck up her life?” She laughs bitterly, angry tears trailing down her red, furious cheeks as my mom gasps, sitting up straight in her seat.
“Letting her? No, she’s an adult, you were an adult too and I let you have full choice over what you wanted to do.” My mom argues, my heart swelling with pride, happy that she’s standing up for me so I don’t have to. My eyes flicker over to the doorway once more, Lexi standing there in shock, her eyes almost asking ‘is it true?’ I just nod, knowing that her and I would eventually discuss what’s going on later, listening to Cass argue once more, her voice getting louder as our mom cuts her off. “Just because she’s making a different decision does not make her decision wrong, Cassie!” My mom screams, immediately on her feet as Cassie backs up, her bottom lip wobbling pathetically as she whimpers. Cassie looks at me, her eyes wide and angry as I take deep breaths, trying to remain as calm as possible as my mom steps in front of me, shielding me from Cassie’s anger and potential triggering words.
Cassie could be mean if she wanted to be, picking someone apart psychologically, using their past against them, and making them feel like a complete waste of space if she wanted to.
Right now, I can tell that she wants to do that to me.
But my mom- Suze- would never let her get away with that.
And neither would Lexi.
“Get out Cassie. Stress isn’t good for the baby.” Lexi snaps, taking my mom and I off guard as Cassie turns around, realizing that everyone around her is on my side and not hers, her worst nightmare. She commands every room that she steps into, needing everyone to like her, even if she doesn't like them. She would do anything to get people on her side, manipulate, lie, cheat; anything. So this, this, is more than upsetting to her.
Cassie takes one last look around the room before storming out.
Lexi approaches me silently, her arms wrapping around my shoulders as I let out a sigh of relief, my mom cooing quietly as she rubs my back soothingly. This is the last thing that I needed, anger, yelling, fighting. This was supposed to be a good thing, I wanted- needed- it to be a good thing.
“Alright, let’s make an appointment.”
A few days later, we all made it a day to go out, Lexi, my mom and I. We got coffee, some snacks, and some new comfy t-shirts (that were not necessary) before my appointment, calming my anxiety a bit as we drove over. My phone was still blowing up from texts from a concerned Elliot, believing that I was sick and out of it, not feeling up for company. I felt bad lying to him, I still do, knowing that he deserved to know and that he would soon enough. Lexi and I finally got the time to talk too on the way there and in the waiting room, my whole entire heart being spilled out to her and my mom throughout the whole appointment. It felt good to not only be able to tell them how I’m feeling but also the doctor, who was more than supportive of all of my decisions and concerns.
But even now, with my mom and Lexi waiting in the car, I stare down at my phone and I can’t help but feel all of my nerves return as my thumb hovers over the call button. I need to call him, I need him to know and I need to finally be able to tell him all the things I’ve been thinking about and worrying about between the baby, our future, and his opinions and concerns. I've come up with every possible outcome in my head, ranging from him being disgusted to him wanting to stay with me forever, dropping down onto one knee immediately (as cheesy as that sounds).
Pressing call, I hesitate as I lift the phone to my ear, knowing he would answer within seconds of seeing my name and picture flash across his screen. He’d been begging to just hear my voice or talk to me, missing me beyond belief, those were his words.
“Hiya baby.” His voice soothes my racing heart, my eyes fluttering shut as I feel Lexi and moms eyes on me from the car, knowing that they’re more invested in this than anyone else. “I’ve missed you sweetheart, how are you?” He asks genuinely and softly, my heart breaking in my chest at how happy he sounds to just hear from me.
“Hi sweetheart.” I whisper, taking a deep breath in before sealing my fate. “We need to talk.”
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westcoastcreative · 2 years ago
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Quotas
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My latest E-rated Brio fic, also posted on AO3. I’m pretty happy with the way this one turned out. Please let me know what you think of it if you’re so inclined. Take good care!
Characters: Beth x Rio
Summary: Someone’s gotta hold Beth accountable for keeping the late night meetings they both know she’ll need to maintain to keep herself and her constituency happy.
Word Count: 4,008
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: (What I think is pretty freaky?) smut, marijuana use (Beth is more of a weed connoisseur in my fics than you think she would be.)
Beth had just poured herself a glass of Cabernet after returning home from a long and tense city council meeting when she remembered: Rio had texted her just before the meeting and she’d been so caught up on how one of the night’s votes was going to go that she never responded.
She opened her texts and selected his from the few at the top.
Give ‘em hell, sweetheart. he’d written, knowing there was a vote taking place that could benefit their business interests but that the opposition wasn’t going to back down easily.
Thankfully she’d swayed enough of her fellow councilmembers with projected revenues and homemade pastries to ensure that what she and Rio wanted transpired in council chambers on that mildly cool Tuesday night.
I did. she texted back simply and directly from her seat on her couch four hours later.
Good. Rio texted back immediately.
Beth took a long, slow sip of her wine and sat back, wondering where Rio was texting her from. What he might be in the middle of in that moment, at 9 p.m. on a Tuesday night.
She herself was alone, the kids with Dean that week — she’d have them on the weekend and into the following.
It couldn’t have been three minutes later when Beth felt her phone vibrate under her fingers again, signaling Rio wasn’t going to wait on her.
Now on to the next order of business. his subsequent text read.
Beth smiled to herself.
What’s that? she responded quickly, letting Rio know he had her attention.
I need to get my face between your thighs, Elizabeth.
Beth’s breath caught in her throat when she read it, her core tingling with an ache she knew was only going to get worse the longer this texting conversation went on.
Again Rio didn’t wait for her to text back.
Beth’s lips moaned against her glass when she saw what he sent next:
Need my hands on that creamy skin and perfect fat ass, councilwoman.
Yeah… she acknowledged.
You know us public servants have quotas to meet. He teased.
Oh, you do? she quickly fired back.
Yes. he wrote. Mine’s making you come at least two times a week, boss.
Beth let a pleased noise immediately roll up from the back of her throat at that.
She double clicked on his words to love his most recent message.
Again Rio took it right from there to where he wanted it to go next:
So what do you say? Can I come through?
Beth laughed to herself and took a smaller sip of the rich red wine before moving her fingers to quickly text him back.
Mhm. Bring that good weed? she sent first, then fired off another:
And stay long enough to get me off a few times? I need it.
I know you do, mama. I got you.
Two minutes later he added:
Be there in 15. And though she was still curious about where he was coming from — what the power of their always heated, undeniable connection was pulling him away from — it really didn’t matter. Rio had an allegiance to their fire and was determined to feed the flame.
She’d definitely be letting him manage up when it came to this.
Rio’s teeth pinned down the inside of his bottom lip and he inhaled fully as the G Wagon neared Beth’s neighborhood under the still darkening sky.
He parted his lips to release the charged air from his lungs and pressed a thumb into the volume controls on the steering wheel. When his sound system was at just the permeating but not overpowering volume he wanted, he reached for his phone to select the song he’d found making him think about Elizabeth lately.
A slow tinny, synthetic beat ushered a high pitched melodic male voice onto the track. It started with a chorus about being lonely, hoping he’d hear from her. Wanting and needing her, no games attached.
The beat sped up and became a bit more complex when the voice rapped:
Pullin' up, yeah you know I won't be late Pussy actin' up yeah you know it's gon' behave
Rio knew the part that painted a picture of Beth in the throws of need for him the most vividly in his mind was a few lines away. And then it hit his ears.
Her pussy get wetter for me for me like it knows my face She ride it until she cumming make my nose ring break Said when they hit it, make her feel like she got no spring break I hit it until the box, without no springs break
And yeah, that was what he did to her. What she made him do, he thought with a frustrated appreciation as he let the song conclude and transition on to another. What he was about to do so much more of.
He and Beth had made do a few times since their reacquaintance with physical intimacy against his grandma’s bookshelf, but never with enough space or time to themselves to take her to her limits.
He needed to hear how beautifully out of control she could cry for him when his tongue and fingers were inside her. Then he needed to hear her cries get even sweeter and more desperate when he stretched, filled and fucked her — hard and relentless — with his cock.
That’s what was on their agenda for the night ahead.
The role of City Councilwoman Boland’s associate required him to define the agendas for their meetings often. She was just so busy. He understood precisely why she trusted him to take the lead when it came to this side of their business. He was the expert when it came to getting her off, after all.
Rio parked a few houses down and pulled out what he needed to roll a few joints per Beth’s request.
That pussy ready, councilwoman? he texted with a smug smile on his face as he finished rolling up the final one.
Rio was securing his gun inside the G Wagon’s dash, poised to grab his stuff and hop out, when his phone vibrated against the center console.
The screen lit up with notice of a text received from E, the digital label he’d settled on for Elizabeth many moons before, but one still fitting of their relationship — private and somehow personal despite so much still unsaid and unknown. About one another. About if they’d be on the same page long enough this time to go any deeper — somehow find more trust, more truth — than all the times before.
Mhm. Beth had texted back coyly.
Rio raised a brow and leaned his body back into his seat, waiting for the three flashing gray dots to appear signaling a follow-up.
I’m out back. she sent seconds before his pent up need for her — open to him completely; unbothered by anything besides his touch; all his — escalated.
When his eyes located her, seated to one side of the patio table’s bench in a red floral silk robe, her firm bare legs crossed tightly and a half-full wine bottle on the table next to her, Rio felt a greedy sound vibrate at the base of his throat.
“Hey now,” he voiced easily, causing her profile to turn and face him.
Beth smiled in a way that instantly told Rio she was tired but happy to see him.
“Hi.” Her teeth shined brightly from behind lipstick- and wine-stained lips, and as Rio came closer, he saw her eye makeup was smudged, too.
He felt his cock throb at the unfairly fuckable look of her appearance.
Rio sat down an arms length away from her — wanting to take this appointment nice and slow — and watched Beth’s manicured fingers (red — of course they had to be a deep, intoxicating red along with all the other swaths of color calling his eyes to them from against her seashell-colored skin) hold up her near-empty glass as she let out a sigh.
Her sigh sounded to him like one she’d been waiting to release until he was in earshot. Like she’d held onto it long enough to give him an accurate estimation of how much tension she was needing to release with his skillful help.
Rio reached for the bottle and refilled her glass. When his black denim jacket-clad forearm neared the table as he set the bottle back down, Beth reached out and wrapped her fingers around it, squeezing and holding it there until he looked up at her.
“Thanks for following up on… this,” she said in a low voice as she gestured into the space between them with the hand that held her wine.
Rio laughed that devilish, cocky, impossible-not-to-drive-her-crazy laugh Beth had come to yearn for.
“Followin’ up on me hittin that pussy right for you, mami?”
He noticed Beth’s thighs clench together more tightly and her eyes widen as she swallowed a gulp of wine and nodded.
Rio laughed again, this time only loud enough for her to hear. He fished one of the joints from his pocket and pressed it between his lips, then moved his hand to grasp her topmost thigh, his eyes willing her to part them for him.
She did.
Rio dipped his hand between them and purred when he found her naked beneath the robe and short nightgown he could see layered below it. He ran a finger up her slit before pressing the flats of two fingers down against her hooded clit, causing Beth to whimper and lightly shake.
“I told you, mamita,” he whispered as he began to add slow, circular motions to his touch. “I got you.”
Rio’s hand retreated from between Beth’s legs after a few more practiced presses on the outside of her clit and a single teasing poke with the tip of his finger into her tight, already sticky wet center. His quickening desire to push two deep inside her and promptly crook them to hear her ladylike moan and enraptured squelch was tempered by willpower when something reminded him: He wanted to take this slow.
Hint of a ruffled pout aside, Beth understood the intention behind Rio’s pull back and slowly recrossed her legs as she straightened her robe on her shoulders to let him know.
Rio’s lips stayed closed around the joint but upturned in just the slightest when his eyes smiled at her appreciatively. They read each other so well.
“Glad to see you’re celebrating. You deserve it.” he praised, the pronunciation of the words bent choppily by his still pinched lips. He pulled a black lighter from his pocket and lit the joint, hands interlacing together on the top of the table as he repositioned his body to face her house.
Beth gazed at Rio’s profile for a beat before returning her bleary eyes to the freshly manicured backyard. He handed her the burning cigarette and she brought it to her faded red lips to inhale before quietly thanking him.
Damn, she really was worn out this week.
“You wanna talk about how it went tonight?” his head turned to look her way again.
“It went…” she stopped as the thin smoke dissipated in front of her face, still staring out onto the lawn. Beth was most wound up from the half hour closed-door part of the meeting Rio was referring to — one spent defending her positions amongst the few stodgy old men who’d long maintained a hold on Detroit’s city politics and did not want her shaking anything up.
“It went how I thought it was going to go.”
Rio nodded with an understanding smile at the relatability of her description.
“How are you?” she quickly followed up, then took a fuller second drag of the joint before she could nervously blurt anything else out. Only hanging there between the two of them would that casual question take on such uncomfortable novelty.
Still, Beth really did want to know.
The breathiness of Rio’s surprised laugh could be heard bouncing off his teeth at the question. His eyes closed, eyelashes resting against the apples of his cheerfully surprised cheeks, before they slowly swept open to regard her again.
“You asking me how I am now, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah,” she said simply without further explanation and passed the marijuana back. The gray blue of her eyes was illuminated with waning visibility by the few lights on in the house as the night turned black.
Rio surrendered easily to his care for Beth, and to how long he’d been waiting to have commonplace conversations like this with her. He was glad he was taking this slow tonight, wondered what other unexpected gifts might come of that approach.
“Been handling our shit,” he smiled before bringing the joint back to his plump, pink lips.
“You really are so great at that,” she flirted with the most lively expression Rio had seen grace her face so far.
“I know,” he smirked, suggestive and sweet.
Comfortable pauses were interspersed between short pieces of what came to be an easy exchange after that. They passed the joint back and fourth, catching each other’s eyes every so often in the quiet moments.
“How’s Marcus?” Beth dared to go deeper once they’d finished the joint.
Previous versions of Rio would have told Beth Marcus was none of her business, or simply denied the response to a question from her on the subject. For a long time, he felt like she didn’t deserve to know. Not after all she’d done.
That mindset had shifted as of late.
“He’s real good,” Rio answered with a flash of his wide, beautiful-toothed smile. “Drivin me crazy askin ten times a day when soccer’s gonna start again…” he laughed with a small shake of his head.
“Oh, Jane, too,” Beth turned so her body was angled toward Rio’s.
As repetitive as Marcus’ questions about it got, Rio really couldn’t wait for the season to start up, either. Not only was it a great outlet for his son’s boundless energy, it also added more appointments to his calendar that included Elizabeth.
Rio placed a hand on Beth’s thigh at the thought.
“You gonna invite me inside, boss?” he squeezed.
Reaching for his hand and moving it back to the top of his own leg, Beth stood up. She grabbed the wine bottle with one hand and ran her palm across the top of Rio’s back with the other as she crossed the lawn behind him.
Her hand grasped his bicep when she’d made her way around him — a brief touch — then she was on her way to the steps leading to her bedroom’s French doors.
“C’mon, you,” her answer made his ears prickle with heat.
Rio watched her ass wiggle as she strode, standing up quickly to follow.
“Whatever you need, councilw—.” He stopped himself, wanting to address who she was completely, not just tease about one interesting dynamic of her currently.
”Whatever you need, Elizabeth.”
“My gosh, I’m so exhausted I forgot the glass,” Beth exhaled sharply as she plopped down onto the ottoman at the foot of her bed, raising the wine bottle she’d purposively carried inside by its neck.
The breath behind Rio’s soft laugh could be heard moving from his nose out of his mouth, his eyes on Beth — already comfortably curled up in her seat below his tall, standing form.
He lowered himself down to sit across from her, leaving his layers of clothing and black and white Jordans in tact.
“Since when you mind your manners with me?” Rio took the bottle from her grip and brought it to his lips to take a throat-warming drink of Beth’s dry red wine of preference.
When he moved the bottle away from his face to pass it back, Beth saw an open, almost cheerful expression behind it, softened with earnestness in the mellow light of her bedroom.
“So I guess we’re going to be seeing more of each other,” Rio stifled the urge to reach out and run his fingers down her cheek, neck, décolletage; across her shoulder to her upper arm — opting to let his eyes roam slowly along that path instead.
“Are we?” Beth’s brow quirked slightly, so tired his simple logic didn’t immediately occur to her.
“Yeah, baby girl,” Rio’s eyes raised to meet hers again, “You finalized your first big contract on behalf of the city today. And your boy here is gonna make sure the job gets done for you.”
Rio’s tongue swiped at his lower lip, then he bit down on it, eyebrows raised.
Of course. she remembered. Damn, his weed was good.
Everything about him was good.
Beth’s round face and dimly sparkling eyes both rolled in playful embarrassment as if to say ‘Duh!’ With one more sip at the wine bottle she emptied it, reaching down to tuck it safely beneath the ottoman.
“Gonna want to be kept updated on my progress, I’d assume?” Rio kept his focus on her face despite the neckline of her nightie pulled lower when she sat back up.
Beth hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, having been focused on getting through that night’s meeting and successfully getting the project approved in the days and weeks leading up. She was in no rush to figure out what came next with accomplishing the specifics of what she’d proposed. Hell, she might take the rest of the week off before she even started considering all that. Maybe Rio would stay in bed with her the whole next day and help her get her vacation started. Then help her start to piece this plan together after their other, more personal quotas had been met.
“Did you want me to stop by your office to check in or just um…” he smirked and glanced at Beth’s neatly made bed, then back at her soft, sleepy bust, oblivious to the separate reverie dancing within her pretty strawberry blonde head.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” she broke the physical distance, placing a hand on his knee.
Rio’s smirk lingered on his full lips. “Of course, darlin.” He scooted in an inch closer. “Always happy to brief you in bed the morning after these meetings, too.”
Beth laughed, leaning into his space. “Thank you for your flexibility.”
Rio finally shrugged off his jacket and reached his large palms out to grasp her soft cheeks.
“Now tell me what you need from me tonight, boss.”
Beth let her eyes close and her face melt into Rio’s warm palm, humming comfortably before her lashes batted open and she answered.
“I’ve been thinking about riding your face.”
Rio watched the words fall from her doll-like lips, a growl rising from his diaphragm. “Mmm… you know I been thinkin bout that, too.”
He brought his thumb down to her lips and Beth began to suck at the top of it, pale eyes wide and wondering.
Wondering how he was going to take her further over the edge of that ever-extending cliff tonight, deeper into the depths of what lie between them.
“That what you wanna do right now, Elizabeth? Ride my face?” Rio dropped his moist thumb from her mouth to trace the neckline of her nightie.
Beth paused, considering, her voice and eyes lower when she spoke. She was drained, but she always had energy to play with him. “Is that what your ledgers tell you we’re due for?”
Rio chuckled, beginning to trail his index finger below the silk, down her breastbone, his eyes serene but tempted.
“Whatever you want to get into would help our numbers, darlin, but my analysis says our most advantageous move would be…” he cleared his throat, his hand coming back up and same finger nudging a few faint wisps of hair off of her forehead, “…letting me take care of you and worry about the math later.”
“Please.” Beth brought a hand up to slip her robe off of her shoulders, sucking in her bottom lip. Her hand at his knee inched higher. “Do you what you need to, Rio.”
He nodded, grateful for the surrender of a bit of all that control she clung to so tightly. His fingers ran down her arms and laced both of her hands in his.
“I need you to turn off that beautiful, smart-as-hell brain of yours for me, Elizabeth.”
He watched her register the accolade and breathe in deeply.
“Can you do that?” he rasped with a squeeze at her hand.
She nodded.
“Just let go,” Rio’s deep voice soothed without a scratch, his hands guiding her hips to scoot back onto the bed.
He pushed the bottom of her silk nightie up as his head chased her bare pelvis backward, his tongue and front teeth crashing into her pussy lips when Beth’s back hit the headboard.
“Rio!” she gasped, surprised by how quickly this was moving after he’d paced the preceding 45 minutes so slowly.
Rio flattened his tongue against Beth’s peach pink inner labia as his hands came under her ass to give him better access to her other delicate hole. He spit on his index finger and brought it down to drag it around the rim of her asshole, his mouth returning to suck at her pussy while the tip of his nose nuzzled her clit. Beth felt the stubble on Rio’s cheeks grating the inside of her thighs so hard it started to sting.
Her torso arched up from the bed, drawn out cries unaffected by any sense of politeness, body too worn out to censor itself.
All she wanted was more of the exact same combination of sensations.
His index finger tentatively poking into her tight asshole, the suck of his mouth getting deeper and tighter around her intricate womanhood, pulling back his tongue but leaving the slightest bit of teeth to grazingly bite at her pussy. The hand not fingering her anus came up to press its palm at her clit at just the right angle, then began to rock slowly. All three at once made her insides quake and suddenly there was liquid pouring from her, into his mouth, onto his chin, dripping onto her duvet cover.
“That’s it, you fucking goddess,” Rio growled from below her. “Let your body do what it was made to, baby. Don’t hold back.”
He lapped at her pussy from top to bottom one last time before sitting up, resituating his hands to make her body squirt more cum the way he knew at that point he could.
He slipped two fingers inside of Beth’s wet center and allowed his pinky to begin teasing her asshole. Gently but quickly he began to pick up the pace of his hand, fingering her with model double penetration skills.
She was right, he was an expert at this.
“I’m gonna need you to squirt for me again, baby girl.” Rio’s free hand came up to wrap around her neck.
Beth’s eyes widened, disbelieving she could do that again when she had had no control over the first one.
This was all him, but she knew he knew it.
His fingers pushed deeper, his movement getting faster and harder. Rio raised her mouth to kiss her before dropping her back down onto the bed and pressing at her clit again. He could feel that she was seconds away from another, longer release.
“Let go…” he coached lovingly, darkest brown eyes worshiping her with her nightie up above her navel and her flushed face about to sob the last of the day’s pressure out, too. “Just like that…. Let go… I got you.”
And he did.
He had her.
It was the only thought left in her mind before she convulsed into another heavy spray.
Rio took his fingers out to rub her pussy in wide circles, her juices spraying everywhere. He smiled as if she’d just reached a new height in the expression of her sexuality — such an ideal match for his; dove deeper into the depth of their connection.
“That’s it, mama. I got you.”
Something told her he always would.
(Lyrics quoted are from “Phone Me” by Che Ecru.)
89 notes · View notes
gretagerwigsmuse · 1 year ago
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oh my GODDDDDD i missed them terribly and this was such a sunday night treat! the first deployment anxiety, which is only slightly increased because they’re in a good spot together, but an undefined one, was def palpable in the beginning! the snippets of the emails we get from mary are precious and i am dying to know all bradley’s favorite parts from her birthday email! the care packages for everyone were so sweet like even just imagining them all putting them together (poor jake not getting a special note from flora) and then the boys opening them!!! don’t get me started on mary’s perfume note and the polaroids! they’re just the most lovely couple 💕
“No.” Mary shakes her head so hard she feels lightheaded. “We will not go down that road. Everything is fine until you are told it’s not. Everything is fine. He’s just late.” - I DIDNT EVEN THINK OF THIS!?! like imagine having a facetime set and he just never comes online because he’s de-
“You’re trying too hard.” She lightly scolds, frowning at the curls starting to lose their shape. “But he’ll appreciate it.” She argues with herself, knowing that Bradley will be happy to see her wearing the replacement sweater he bought. - get OUTTE of here right now!!!! this is precious! and he definitely will appreciate it and tell her 500 times how pretty she is
“Everything is fine! He’s fine!” The shouted reassurance makes Mary flinch, years of therapy unable to eliminate the instinctive action completely. - oh honey no!!! mav coming over to tell her is simultaneously so sweet and thoughtful but also would make me think the worst too? which i feel like that’s just mav haha
“Oh- Bradley and I- we’re not-” Mary stumbles over her words, neck hot as she tries to explain. “I know,” Mav gently assures. “But you will be; I know Bradley.” - SCREAMING!!! I KNOW BRADLEY AHHHHHH HIS DAD KNOWS HES GONE FOR MISS MARY!!!
Bradley has such an incredible support system, with so many people who care about him, but it hurts her heart that she’s not close enough with her family to get the same treatment. - oh sweet girl no. i also like that we’re shown that bradley has such a huge network because in the movie it is very much implied that he’s alone so to see mary notice this is sweet but also so sad she doesn’t think she has that?
He squeezes her extra tight for a second, his throat thick when she presses her face against his shoulder just like Bradley does. “Any time, kid.” - JUST LIKE BRADLEY DOES?!?! GOODNIGHT BYEEEEEEE THATS HIS DAD AND THATS MAV’S DAUGHTER IN LAW
He had read her email from her birthday at least six times, staring at the photo she had attached. He couldn’t wait to print a copy of Mary snuggled on her couch, wearing the soft yellow sweater he bought and boldly spritzed with cologne. Her smile a little shy as she posed, just for him. - i want their love like i want to have what they have so badly it’s cruel how i’m denied this
And it’s not even that her emails have been slightly bolder. The content staying constant but with an extra something. - she’s more confident in her and his feelings and it gives me butterflies!!!
thought about you the whole time… I was so stupid to kick you out that night. I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I’ll never understand how you forgave me, but I’m so glad you did. - YOU KEPT IT IN AHHHHHH I LOVE THAT SHE ADMITTED THIS
What exactly sent Lieutenant Commander Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw into a tizzy? Carefully packaged cookies and a slightly blurry polaroid. - CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING 100 MILES AWAY
but there had been some wine involved as the group influenced her to spritz the paper. His eyes widen at the last line. Look under your cookies for an extra special surprise - CHEEKY MINX!!!!! I LOVE THE PERFUME!!!!
The next two confuse him. Pictures of the plants in his living room, a tiny bit of Maverick’s shoulder visible in the one of his pothos ivy. - I NEED THE SCOOP!!!!
A fully clothed photo is going to get him hard just because it’s Mary, and she’s standing in his bedroom. - SHE WAS IN HIS ROOM!!! oh he’s so down bad for her!!! i think this is my fave bradley moment so far
I want to hear from you whenever you want to tell me something. - kill me kill me kill me kill me AND THEN LOVE BRADLEY!?!!!!!
p.s. Mariella Vertucci, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom without me? - 404’ing
I’m thinking of you, too. probably too often considering how much I’ve been emailing you. I guess I didn’t realize how much we talk until you couldn’t instantly respond to me… now it makes hearing from you even more special. - AHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! and love how quickly she replies!! i totally did the same with my emails like you KNOW her heart is pounding the second she gets the notification the world stops
p.p.p.p.s. your bed is comfy, might take a nap there this weekend when I drop food off to Eileen and Frank. - YOUR BED IS COMFY SO IS YOUR DIC-
p.s. Uncle Shortstack was supposed to trust Aunt Responsible or Sister Sass with plant care - SISTER SASS IT’S SO TRUE
p.p.p.p.s. Now I think you’re just messing with me. But if you’re not, flight school sweatshirt is in the bottom right drawer in the dresser, remote is in the left nightstand. Enjoy my Netflix. We know I’m not. - AHHHHHHHHH WEAR IT WEAR IT AND SEND HIM PICS ASAP
no more p.s.-es for now, heading to work. I’ll talk to you later. go to sleep, Bradley. dream of me. - leave. get out right now. DREAM OF ME!?!!??? oh gosh it’s so dreamy (forgive the pun(?))
His hair is sticking up from running his hands through it, and his cheeks are red, his shirt splattered with wet spots from his aggressive attempt at calming down. - oh my god he’s so adorable and cute!!! the hair sticking up!!! he’s so down bad for mary and i can’t wait for their facetime!!!!
Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5.1
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pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)
summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.
series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, like soooo much flirting, warnings to be added as needed
word count: 4.4k
previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist
note: happy Sunday! this ended up far longer than I expected so there'll be some updates to the masterlist! thank you so much for your patience, I know it's been a while since the last part. love you all.
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part 8.5.1 - snacks and SPF
Saturday, March 20, 2021
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Mary’s shoe bounces against the tile, echoing through the kitchen as she checks her watch again.
Ten minutes late.
“Things happen‌. Things happen! With the time zones and the technology. It’s still early for them!” She feels ridiculous talking out loud to her empty house. “Besides! Ten minutes is nothing! There’s probably just a problem with a satellite somewhere!”
The self-soothing does little to calm her nerves. She knows what happens during deployments; she’s seen the aftermath of the accidents that can happen. Fatal mistakes occurring in a nanosecond unable to be reversed. Part of her last job was to analyze the charred piles that used to make up a fighter jet, ignoring the brown stains splattered on the metal.
“No.” Mary shakes her head so hard she feels lightheaded. “We will not go down that road. Everything is fine until you are told it’s not. Everything is fine. He’s just late.”
She slides off the barstool, trying to work out the anxious energy with laps around the living room, her shoes clicking with each step. Mary catches sight of herself in the entryway mirror and frowns; all the effort she put into getting ready feels stupid now. The outfit, the heels, the carefully styled hair, the makeup that took an hour.
“You’re trying too hard.” She lightly scolds, frowning at the curls starting to lose their shape.
“But he’ll appreciate it.” She argues with herself, knowing that Bradley will be happy to see her wearing the replacement sweater he bought. He won’t see the tight jeans and heeled boots she decided to wear with it, but those aren’t for him. They’re for her, a little boost in her confidence.
The next lap takes her around the island, laptop and phone void of notifications.
Fifteen minutes late. 
Fifteen minutes late used to mean nothing; she used to love it when professors were fifteen minutes late. The excited buzzing of a classroom at the prospect of a canceled class. People comparing watches, phones, laptops, anything that could tell time, giggling as they discussed what to do with an unexpected hour of freedom. Now, it feels like the complete opposite. Dread filling her stomach like bad news is going to appear at her front door any second, the same way a tenured Ph.D. waltzing through the lecture hall doors at the last minute dashed all hopes of escape.
Mary is so distracted by trying to erase the bad thoughts swirling that she misses the silver car pulling into the driveway. She doesn’t notice the sound of the car door closing or the person walking to her front door, only pulled from the impending spiral by the doorbell ringing.
“Who the fuck…” One last wistful glance at the clock tells her the afternoon’s plans are probably dead.
Twenty minutes late. 
“Mav?” Mary can’t hide the surprise in her voice at seeing the older man on her front porch. “Is everything okay?”
“Can I come in?”
The lack of an answer sends a chill up her spine, and she silently moves to the side, letting the admiral into her home. He subtly looks around, taking in her colorful decor and sturdy furniture.
“Haven’t been here since you moved in; the place looks good, Mary.”
Her knees practically buckle at the use of her name; he always defers to her unofficial call sign or last name. The last time he used her first name was to introduce her to some visiting admirals from Washington. Something terrible had to have happened for him to show up unannounced on a Saturday at the same time she’s supposed to be video chatting with Bradley.
“Pete…” She croaks the name, nose burning with the urge to cry.
He turns around, face scrunched in confusion at the sound of his first name and stretching into panic at her wobbling lip.
“Everything is fine! He’s fine!” The shouted reassurance makes Mary flinch, years of therapy unable to eliminate the instinctive action completely. “Oh, jesus…”
Mav scans the room using the same quick-thinking senses that kept him alive for years in a jet, locating the tissues and swiftly bringing the box to the sniffling woman. His eyes are guilt-filled as he presses a kleenex into her hand, guiding them to the infamous pink couch.
“I’m sorry for yelling.”
“It s’okay.” Mary gives a shaky smile. “I’ve always been a bit jumpy.”
Pete bites his tongue as she sniffles and grimaces at the makeup that transfers to the tissue. Slider had told him in vague terms about the Vertucci family and how they’ve been less than supportive of their daughter, how that would be putting it generously. Bradley’s telling of how she spent her PTO during Christmas was more straightforward, a full picture forming as his nephew lamented a family he didn’t know.
“Officially, you don’t know what I’m about to tell you, and you can’t tell anyone else. Do you understand?” Mary confusedly blinks at him but nods her head in agreement. “The comms blackout got extended, and all the calls scheduled for the next week are being pushed out. All the recipients got notified, but when Laura went through the list to double-check, she realized your contact information had gotten entered wrong.”
“You came all the way over to tell me?”
“I was already out, and I figured you would be worried. And I wanted to make sure you were okay; I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you lately and check on you. The first deployment away from each other is the hardest.”
“Oh- Bradley and I- we’re not-” Mary stumbles over her words, neck hot as she tries to explain.
“I know,” Mav gently assures. “But you will be; I know Bradley.”
Her heart flutters, not sure how to respond other than the bashful smile she can’t hide.
“And he would be embarrassed that I’m about to do this, but while he’s not here and it’s just us, I wanted to ask that you take care of him. Bradley means everything to me; he’s my kid, and I know how much he cares about you. You’ve both had some hard times, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Slider had given her a similar talk before he left town. Bradley has such an incredible support system, with so many people who care about him, but it hurts her heart that she’s not close enough with her family to get the same treatment. She’s never brought anyone home, and none of her relatives ever bother to visit, the distance too far. Her parents had briefly - and accidentally - met the one boyfriend she had in college, an excruciating experience that had been the catalyst for their breakup. Since then, no one has seen Vertuccis in anything except pictures.
“I will, Pete. I don’t ever want to hurt him.”
The I love him is left unsaid, but she’s pretty sure Mav reads between the lines, clocking the hearts in her eyes as she thinks about the mustached man they care about so much.
“Good, and if he ever hurts you, just let me know. I’m old, but I still know all his weak spots.” Mav smiles at Mary's giggles, her eyes crinkling in laughter. “Okay M&M, I gotta get going, but stop by my office this week, and we’ll grab lunch. Also, Penny wants you to come to Easter dinner, so keep that in mind, and she’s having some sort of ladies-only thing next weekend that she wanted me to mention; she’ll probably call you tomorrow.”
“Okay! I’ll text her about what she wants me to bring for Easter.” There’s a moment of awkwardness by the door, but it disappears when Pete pulls her in for a hug. “Thank you, Mav.”
He squeezes her extra tight for a second, his throat thick when she presses her face against his shoulder just like Bradley does. “Any time, kid.”
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Wednesday, March 31, 2021
Bradley splashes more cold water on his face in a futile attempt to calm down. He has to calm down. He needs to be in bed soon, sleeping and resting for tomorrow’s hops. But nothing is working. The shower was a failure, and so was a lap around the hangar deck, trying to let the salty sea air clear his brain. 
The communication blackout had been partially lifted two days ago, giving everyone access to email. Bradley had spent every available minute at the terminal in the Daggers ready room, catching up on twenty-nine days of messages from his family and Mary.
Mary.
Who had overwhelmed him with her sweet messages and silly jokes. Sending at least one email a day, keeping him up to date on work and the Dagger family in San Diego, occasionally sending a blurry photo of Mav with a caption reminiscent of a wildlife documentary. He had read her email from her birthday at least six times, staring at the photo she had attached. He couldn’t wait to print a copy of Mary snuggled on her couch, wearing the soft yellow sweater he bought and boldly spritzed with cologne. Her smile a little shy as she posed, just for him.
That’s not what got to him, though it’s certainly not helping.
It’s not the way she signed that email.
love, Mary
An echo of her birthday card, the addition of the pink heart emoji after her name making him smile.
It’s not how every email since has ended with the same signature.
Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.
And it’s not even that her emails have been slightly bolder. The content staying constant but with an extra something. It had taken a few days’ worth of updates to realize that she was being more blatant with her flirting, more open.
I’m always so hungry when I get home, and I just realized today it’s because you’re not here to bring me a turkey sandwich. I miss you and your thoughtfulness.
had girls’ night tonight - Aaron joined us - and we put Skyfall on for background noise. thought about you the whole time… I was so stupid to kick you out that night. I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I’ll never understand how you forgave me, but I’m so glad you did.
should have stolen your flight school sweatshirt before you left. mine just isn’t as comfy.
He almost broke at the attached photo of her in bed, pouting at the camera with her lush pink lips and big brown eyes as the collar of her almost identical sweatshirt dipped to show off her freckled shoulder that was just begging to be kissed.
All of that? All of that was manageable.
So what exactly sent Lieutenant Commander Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw into a tizzy?
Carefully packaged cookies and a slightly blurry polaroid.
Today’s mail call brought care packages for all twelve members of the Dagger Squad, lovingly packed and sent by Mary, Danielle, Aaron, Kristina, and Flora. All the packages were the same, with identical toiletries, socks, sunscreen, and snacks from Costco, plus a note signed by the San Diego crew. The married Daggers had extra goodies and personal letters from their spouse.
The mood had risen exponentially since the boxes were dropped in their ready room; the midway point of deployment is always the hardest. But spending the evening playing the card game in Logan’s box put smiles on everyone’s faces. Even Jake, moping that there was no note from Flora in his box, laughed as Bob easily won three times in a row.
The crew slowly trickled out, returning to their bunks as it got closer to bedtime, but Bradley hung around, waiting until he was alone to open the last part of his box. The smaller box his note told him was just for him, Mary’s swirling signature below the instruction. He was glad to watch Mickey and Reuben leave, the latter giving him a knowing wink, and waited an extra second before unpacking his treats to get to the bonus box.
The scotch tap easily peeled away and the cardboard tabs folded back to reveal a small envelope, a big bag of shelled pistachios, and layers of individually wrapped sugar cookies. He didn’t bother with anything else, immediately unwrapping a cookie and taking a huge bite. Mary’s sugar cookies are a weakness of his, thick but soft, and the sweet practically melts in his mouth. He closes his eyes to enjoy the taste of home, and a familiar scent wafts past his nose.
Mary’s perfume.
It’s coming from the envelope. An involuntary grin spreading across his lips as he brushes crumbs off his shirt, carefully sliding his finger under the flap. His smile growing as he reads the short letter, chuckling at the explanation of how she had volunteered to ship the packages so she could sneak his cookies in, and she hoped the perfume wasn’t too strong, but there had been some wine involved as the group influenced her to spritz the paper. His eyes widen at the last line.
Look under your cookies for an extra special surprise.
His leg bounces as he holds another envelope in his hand. He can tell what’s in this one, the polaroid shape distinctive through the thin paper. Bradley knows it can’t be the thing his brain immediately thought about. For so many reasons, he knows it’s not that. It doesn’t stop his heart from beating faster at the possibility. Just the potential has his ears burning.
“Whatever it is, you gotta look at it before someone else shows up.” He mutters to himself, feeling unsteady as he slides his index finger along the edge of the seal.
There’s seven photos in the stack. The first three taken during what he assumes was the care package night, everyone smiling at the camera, cheeks smooshed together. The fourth is his family, all of them smiling around the dining room table with a picture of him sitting at his regular chair, his place set like he’s just running late and not floating hundreds of miles off the coast of Japan. The next two confuse him. Pictures of the plants in his living room, a tiny bit of Maverick’s shoulder visible in the one of his pothos ivy.
The last one takes his breath away.
Mary, in her yellow sweater, smiling in the mirror on his dresser. Her smile is soft, with a tiny bit cheekiness shining through as she stands in front of his bed. She’s wearing the pair of light-wash jeans that hug her ass just right, the ones with a tiny rip on the left pocket.
“Fuck.”
The photo floats to the table as Bradley scrubs at his eyes. A fully clothed photo is going to get him hard just because it’s Mary, and she’s standing in his bedroom. For the first time since the blackout was lifted, he clicks the new message button, not caring what time it is for either of them.
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Wed, Mar 31, 2021, 2125 JST from: [email protected] to: [email protected] subject: you sneaky girl
Hi honey,
Seeing your name in my inbox so many times made me smile. I’ve read all your emails, and I’m working on a long email to give you my thoughts on the highlights.
I’m sorry I missed our call - I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. Promise.
For now, I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking of you - I’ve been thinking of you - and I’ll be able to answer your emails now, but don’t stop sending them. I want to hear from you whenever you want to tell me something.
I miss you.
love,
Bradley
p.s. Mariella Vertucci, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom without me?
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Wed, Mar 31, 2021, 2131 JST from: [email protected] to: [email protected] subject: you sneaky girl
bradley!!
it’s so good to see your words!! (I would say hear your voice, but you know)
you got your package!! do you need anything else? I can send it with priority shipping if you do.
don’t worry about the call; Mav let me know what happened. I was sad I didn’t get to see you, but things happen. I know what this life is like. we’ll get to talk when the timing works out, and until then, I’m happy to read your words.
I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! please tell me March 17th is on your highlight list, I’m pretty sure Cyclone is *still* mad at Mav from the way your uncle is avoiding him. speaking of uncle, the other one (tall one) (Slider) (I now have to differentiate because Pete introduced me to a bunch of class of ‘86 uncles last week. why are they all so tall? Mav excluded, of course.) is going to be in town in a few weeks. might ask him for a copy of that baby photo so I can put it on my desk.
I’m thinking of you, too. probably too often considering how much I’ve been emailing you. I guess I didn’t realize how much we talk until you couldn’t instantly respond to me… now it makes hearing from you even more special.
I miss you more.
love,
Mary
p.s. your uncle (the short one) is hopeless with plants. why did you trust him to keep them alive for two months? Mav gave me a key (I hope you don’t mind, please let me know if you do) and I’ve officially been entrusted with plant babysitting duties.
p.p.s. your mail person keeps delivering mail to your box despite me calling. if you could check on the mail hold request you submitted, I would appreciate it. the lady at the Main Street desk is mean whenever I try to fix it.
p.p.p.s. Frank’s hip is healing nicely! did you know he’s not Mr. Hadcock? Eileen’s (Mrs. Hadcock’s name is Eileen) husband died about twenty years ago, and she met Frank on a dating site; it’s a sweet story. they want to have us over for dinner when you’re back. I said maybe - committing us to a dinner without talking to you seemed… premature. I promised to cook if that sways your decision.
p.p.p.p.s. your bed is comfy, might take a nap there this weekend when I drop food off to Eileen and Frank.
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Wed, Mar 31, 2021, 2136 JST from: [email protected] to: [email protected] subject: you sneaky girl
Mary, why are you awake? It’s almost 5 AM.
We did get our boxes! Thank you so much. For everything you got me, of course, but all the single Daggers, too. Everyone really appreciated it!! We’re working on a thank you for the five of you.
The cookies are incredible, by the way, they were in perfect shape. I think the individual wrapping was key. I don’t need anything else, you set us up good for this second half!
I still feel bad. As soon as I can bribe someone else - you’re getting a call. I’ve never been good at the email communication, but I’m trying for you. March 17th is on the list, how could it not be?! Who was there? Please tell me you didn’t meet Hollywood. Could you buy a bottle of Jack Daniels and give it to Slider when he’s in town for me? It’s for his birthday, let me know what I owe you.
I am begging you not to ask for that baby photo. You don’t ever have to buy me a present or anything ever again.
Your words make me smile, can’t wait to save all the photos you’ve sent me. And I don’t want us to be the people that argue about who misses who more, but I definitely miss you more.
love,
Bradley
p.s. Uncle Shortstack was supposed to trust Aunt Responsible or Sister Sass with plant care. I see that has not happened. Keep the key; I know you’re a good plant mom, trusting you with mine.
p.p.s. Adding it to tomorrow’s to do list. Feel free to sort through it and recycle all the junk. If something looks super important, open it and let me know. I know who you mean, and she is rude. Don’t worry about her, just keep grabbing the mail until I get this fixed.
p.p.p.s. Good to hear about his hip. I had a feeling they weren’t married, but I wasn’t totally sure, and how do you ask an elderly woman if she’s living with her boyfriend or her husband?? Dinner sounds good. If you’re cooking, it sounds amazing. Sign up us, tell them date TBD.
p.p.p.p.s. Now I think you’re just messing with me. But if you’re not, flight school sweatshirt is in the bottom right drawer in the dresser, remote is in the left nightstand. Enjoy my Netflix. We know I’m not.
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Wed, Mar 31, 2021, 2141 JST from: [email protected] to: [email protected] subject: you sneaky girl
Bradley, just out of curiosity, what time do you think I get to work? I’m literally always in before you show up at 6 AM.
happy to send care packages anytime; just let me know who needs what. no thank you necessary. (well, maybe a picture if you can swing it. lots of adults and kids are missing the Daggers around these parts.) thank GOD the cookies were okay. I was so scared they would be moldy and ruin your box!!! individual wrapping is the move, noted.
if you’re trying, that’s all that matters to me.
Cyclone’s face was so red Warlock was ready to call medical. or his wife. whoever would be more effective. I think there was even talk of SECNAV as a last resort. making a note for Ron’s birthday present, will even add a bow to the neck of the bottle, free of charge.
there was a whole gaggle of ‘86 guys. I’ll have to give you a full breakdown in a separate email because it was a wild night. how can they drink so much? I lost count after the sixth (seventh?) toast. I had to pour Mav into the Jeep, and Penny and I dragged him into the house. (dramatized for effect, he did trip up the stairs, though. thought Penny was going to fall off the porch she laughed so hard.)
I have a small crush on Hollywood. he’s just so handsome. but don’t worry, he’s too old for me. I like guys who are three years older than me. any suggestions?
it’s so cute that you think that would incentivize me not to get the photo. look in the cardboard box, Bradshaw. I *love* buying presents and helping people I care about.
every time I emailed you a photo I also texted you, once you have service again you’ll get a ton of texts from me. sorry. you’re right; we don’t want to be those people. but I want to point out that we’re not arguing. I’m clearly correct here.
love,
Mary
p.s. he’s trying his best! (probably? might be too afraid of Cyclone to remember things. plus, he’s kinda old.) (Mav, if you somehow see this, it’s a joke. you’re not that short.)
p.p.s. thank you! don’t worry, all the crap has been chucked already. I did stick the menu for a new Chinese food place on your fridge, we should go when you’re back.
p.p.p.s. she’s chill, but that definitely could have been a bad question. dinner will be confirmed, and we’ll discuss dates when you’re back. start thinking about what you want for dinner.
p.p.p.p.s. not messing with you on this. your bed is very comfy. (don’t ask how I know. Mav and I had a weird time at your place. it’s better to explain in person.) stealing the sweatshirt ASAP and I’m going to ruin your Netflix algorithm. will send photographic proof.
no more p.s.-es for now, heading to work. I’ll talk to you later. go to sleep, Bradley. dream of me.
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Bradley stares at the last line for a while, not moving until the motion sensor timer turns the lights off on him. He showers, Mary on his mind the entire time. The cold air on the hangar deck just makes him think about cuddling Mary in his bed, snuggled together as she wears his sweatshirt (and only his sweatshirt) before offering to keep her warm. How she would laugh at his faux sleazy smile and pull him in, letting him run his hands all over her soft, curvy body. The freckled skin that would appear inch by inch as he slides the shirt over her head, kissing his way to her mouth, making two important detours along the way. The thought of how she might sound as she moans his name propels him to the bathroom sink for a dose of cold water.
“You okay, man?” Reuben’s whispered concern as he enters their bunk room is understandable. His hair is sticking up from running his hands through it, and his cheeks are red, his shirt splattered with wet spots from his aggressive attempt at calming down.
“Yeah!” He’s too loud for the room. Mickey twitches in his sleep, and even Bob, who usually ignores their antics, squints at him over at his book. “I’m fine! Mary sent cookies; if you don’t tell anyone else, you can have one each.”
Bob and Payback eye each other, silently agreeing to not ask about the frazzled state after the mention of Mary. “What kind?”
“Sugar. She said they’re unfrosted because she was worried about them going bad.” He distributes the cookies, leaving one on Fanboy’s shaving kit for the morning, before climbing into bed.
He flips and flops, trying to get comfortable before rolling to his right side. The low light from Bob’s bunk is just enough to see the photo from Valentine’s Day. Bradley lets his mind wander, not as far as before, just remembering that morning and their goodbye in the hangar, every moment in between.
The room goes dark as the WSO settles in for the night, but he can still see Mary. Her features are burned into his brain, her perfume floating in his nose from her letter safely tucked into the cubby above his head.
I’m never getting to sleep tonight.
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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years ago
Text
Bets With a Vegas Boy
summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.
word count: 4.9k
warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader
A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!
“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.
“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.
“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.
Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself
A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.
Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.
“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.
The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you.  After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.
“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking… Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.
“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.
He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.
“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.
You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with  a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.
A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”
Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.
You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.
“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”
“12pm-12am”
You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.
The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.
Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you
“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”
You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.
“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.
You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words  “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.
A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.
“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.
You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.
The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.
Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.
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finelinevogue · 3 years ago
Note
Obsessed with your imagines you so when they have 3 kids and they’re all older! What about one where Harry has to have a sex talk with his kids OR y/n and Harry come home to find their kids throwing a party? I think both could be super funny
this has me excited cause i love the idea of them throwing a party when y/n and harry are at date night!! (does contain smut)
oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16
“We’re so fucking screwed.”
“Belle, for the millionth time, chill the fuck out.”
But how the fuck was anyone supposed to be chill when there was a full-on house party, close to being a rave, occurring in their house? A house that was their mum’s life work. A house party that their parents new nothing about. A night where absolutely anything and everything could go wrong.
The three siblings stood at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the door, looking around at the scenes occurring between each room. There were girls whispering to each other on the sofas, there was a group of guys playing beer pong in the kitchen and there was a large group of people hanging around by the pool and some even taking a dip. What had meant to be a low-key party had managed to turn into the whole neighbourhood plus the next town over. It was completely overboard.
“Who’s idea was this again?” Belle asked, clearly not understanding the full reasoning behind a full fledged party in their house.
“All of ours.” Oli responded, when in reality it was really just his, and a bit of Felix, idea.
“Nope. I’m not getting grounded because you two dickheads wanted to be rebels.” Belle put her hands up as if to stop this whole situation. She did not want to be a part of this and yet had somehow got screwed up with it all.
“So what are you going to do?” Felix asked.
“Anywhere where this doesn’t have my name stamped all over it.” Belle gestured around her, all of them groaning when they heard something smash from a nearby room. They were actually going to be locked up forever after this.
“Belle, mum and dad are out for the night. Dad said he booked a hotel for them to stay over at, so they won’t even be back until tomorrow morning.” Oli explained, trying to calm down his very nervous sister.
“Yeah, plus if you’re so insistent on leaving why did you get so dressed up?” Felix did have a point. Belle had gone through the effort tonight to be looking as best she could. She was sporting a little black dress with black fishnet tights and her trusty Doc Martens. It was a very colourful outfit, as she would explain. Belle had even gone to the effort of adding glue-on gems to her makeup. Whereas her brothers were just wearing sweaters and trousers and trainers. Typical teenage boys.
“I’ll bet that’s why.” Oli nodded behind Belle and smirked as he watched his little sister turn around.
Megan Dover. Belle’s high school crush and cleverest person in the year. Felix and Oli caught Belle blush when their little sister looked at Megan, waving to her cutely. Belle was a lot more introverted than Megan, but Belle didn’t mind. She admired that Megan was so outspoken and kind and smart, but too bad they didn’t truly know of Belle’s existence. At least, not really.
“Alright fine, i’ll stay, but just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Belle rolled her eyes and then walked off in the direction of the kitchen - if she was ever going to speak to Megan she’d need at least 4 shots in her system.
“Be safe little B.” Oli waved her off and then the two brothers looked at each other knowingly. “Is Heather here?”
“Not yet no, think she’s coming with the girls in a bit.” Felix checked his phone as his brother questioned him. “What about Bea?”
“She’s upstairs.”
“Why? I thought we weren’t allowing anyone upstairs?”
“Dude she’s my girlfriend, I think she gets a pass.” Oli patted his brothers back and then saunters up the stairs two at a time to go and find his girlfriend and reintroduce her to the party.
Another smash of something glass sounding came from the kitchen, along with a turn of screams and mumbles of oops.
“Fuck, we are so screwed.” Felix muttered under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever was now broken.
••••
Meanwhile, you and Harry were basking in each other’s presence at a fancy new restaurant downtown called Caste Inn.
Harry decided it was time for you to have a treat and so was taking you out for dinner and then retreating to a fancy hotel, where he would not let you rest for the whole night. He was already being really handsy this evening, but you kept swatting his prying hands away because you were in public.
“Babe, c’mon i’m dying here!” He whined as you swatted his hand away from the skirt of your dress for the fifth time since mains. You were lucky you were in a crescent shaped booth so it was hard for anyone to see what was going on underneath the table, but you still felt so exposed.
“Quit it Harry.” You sniped, returning your attention back to the desserts menu. The restaurant was that kind of place where the portions are sparrow sized and yet cost you as much as it would to donate a kidney, so there was no surprise that you were still hungry and had room for dessert.
“Just wanna love on my wife.” He pouted next to you, keeping his arm slunk around the back of the booth to continue to caress your far shoulder delicately.
“We’re in the middle of a restaurant, you’re crazy.” You snickered, trying your hardest to focus on the desserts; Tiramisu, Chocolate Orange Gateau, Pecan Pie, Creme Brulé and an endless list of more mouthwatering yumminess.
“Fucking crazy for you, yes.” He kissed your cheek once, twice and then bit it too on the third, making you moan slightly at the exposure of it all. “You used to let me do this kind of thing all the time, what happened hey?”
“I got old.” You laughed, but really you felt saddened by the thought of it. You were approaching your forties and you felt as though time wasn’t on your side anymore. Life was all flying by so fast and it was becoming so hard to stop it for a moment to see how beautiful it all is. Harry could tell you were faking your happiness in that moment and he hated that you felt this way. He loved you. He would worship the ground you walk upon. Nothing would ever be too much of an ask for him if it meant keeping your happy. Yes, you were getting older, but it didn’t mean that was a bad thing. At least you were getting older together and becoming maturer together.
“Talk to me, love.” He gently asked, knowing there was something on your mind that was bothering you.
“I just… I just feel like i’m getting older—”
“You are love, yes.” He interrupted you, which earned him a slap to the thigh. He didn’t let your hand go though, leaving it to rest on his tight thigh.
“And then suddenly that’s going to be it. No more Y/N.”
“Don’t say things like that to me, please love.” Harry shook his head, squeezing your hand a little tighter.
“And I feel like i’ll have regretted not doing so many things. Like I won’t have lived my life.”
“Things like?”
“Things like riding a motorcycle with you. Things like staying up all night with a bottle of wine and a good bit of Elvis. Reckless things, like skinny dipping or crashing a high school party. Things like, having my husband finger fuck me in a public restaurant. I remember when everything seemed so free and chaotic and I loved it. Now I feel stuck.”
“Stuck how, love?” Harry leaned in closer to you, his eyes full of love and determination because if that’s what you wanted he could give you all those things - especially the orgasm.
“I’m a mum, H. You’re a dad. We’re parents,m. Good ones at that. Aren’t we supposed to be grown up and responsible now? We don’t get to take risks anymore, because we have a family right? God, I sound so pathetic.” You sighed and put the menu down, not thinking about which pudding you wanted to fill yourself up with anymore.
“Babe. If you want to ride a motorcycle and go skinny dipping then let’s fucking do it. Why are you so afraid to hold back? Because we have kids, because darling believe me when I tell you - however much it disturbs me - our kids are out doing just as many reckless and crazy things as we used to do. Maybe we should fuck the prestigious system and show our children, all parents - including us - that adulthood, parenthood, doesn’t define the choices you make. We do.”
You couldn’t stop looking at your husband, drinking in every last drop of his beauty. His words filled your heart with rose petals and chocolates, warming you up delightfully. God, you were so lucky to have him. He helped you through the most toughest of times and continued to stick with you, not because a ring says he has to, but because he loves you. Undeniably and irrevocably loves you.
That was all it took for you to comply.
Quickly, you moved one of your legs under the table cloth so it draped over Harry’s thighs and made an opening between your legs. The cloth hid everything well, along with the dirty napkins that sat upon your laps.
“Wh- what are you doing love?” Harry asked confused, after not hearing a word back from you for his earlier speech.
“Harry I love you, I do, but will you just shut up and fuck my pussy with your fingers already.” You whispered wetly against his ear with your lips. He groaned at the words and tightened his grip around your leg, widening the gap he had to work with.
His hand slid underneath your dress slowly, squeezing the flesh of your thighs in tease, until he got to where your panties were. Or at least where they should be.
“Shit, you’re not wearing any pants?” Harry asked quizzically, pushing his fingers against your glistening pussy and feeling just how ready you were for him.
“Oh fuck!” You muffled out before Harry quickly slapped your slit because you were making too much noise, which only then made you squeal a bit more. He slapped your cunt hard enough the second time for you to get the memo that you needed to be quiet - but fuck was that a challenge. As much as you can be quiet, you just don’t like to be. You like knowing that your moans and whines turn Harry in even more, just as much as you love hearing his.
“Fucking hell, soaked already.” His fingers toyed with the folds of your cunt, feeling how puffy they were between his ringed fingers. “Gotta be quiet for me okay?” Just as he started pushing his delicious fingers inside of you, the waiter turned up at the table with a cheery face and not a bouncing clue what was happening between the two of you.
“Desserts?” He asked politely with his charming smile, but you didn’t see it for too long before having to close your eyes shut at the sudden movement of Harrys fingers. He wasn’t stopping on the waiters behalf, in fact he was more forcefully going for it. He moved his fingers in circles inside of you, thumbing over your clit in the way he knew you desired most. He was insatiable.
Reckless.
“No, just the bill please. Need to take my wife home to take care of some things.” Harry spoke for you both, not understanding why he was being so open with the amount of information he was giving away. But fucking hell you didn’t care because his fingers were providing you pleasures beyond reason.
“Yes Sir. I’ll only be two minutes.” He smiled again before he was gone, taking the menus with him.
“Here that baby?” Harry whispered into your ear, moving his fingers more freely now there was less of an audience, “you’ve got two minutes to cum.”
“Wha—”
Questioning his authority would have to wait, for Harry got to work very quickly and perfectly. His fingers slicked in and out of you so erotically and if it wasn’t for the live music and loud chatter of the room, the sounds of his fingers driving in and out of you would be heard by everyone. His fingers curled to all the right places, touching the most sensitive parts of your walls and hell did it feel blissful.
“I’d say you’ve got about a minute left baby, and I think you can cum for me before then. Can’t you? Or am I not good enough for that kind of release anymore?” Harry taunted you and pressed wet kisses to your ear. You were too lost in euphoric paradise to notice, or even care, whether anyone could see or was watching you both. You were too focused on your husband. Your Harry.
“N-no. I can cum. You’re so good - shit - so g-good.” You stammered out, breathless from the air stolen from your lungs because of this erotic moment. This was so bad behaved of you both that you were starting to get a high off of it.
“Cum for me then baby. Do it. I’ve got you.” He kissed your lips to capture the moan that trailed off your tongue as you reached your high. You felt so high and yet so safe. Harry steadied you as your legs shook and kissed you senseless, to quieten your whines. He admired that you had been so willing for this and he would be lying if he said he didn’t have a raging hard-on right now.
“I love you,” you raced out quickly, “I love you.”
“I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips again and withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt. You picked up a napkin but he quite quickly took it away from you, throwing it to the other side of the table.
“What are you doing?” You whisper shouted, needing to clean yourself up.
“More like what are you doing?”
“Cleaning my mess.” You said frustratedly.
“Leave that to me.” He spoke whilst holding intense eye contact with you, bringing his fingers that were coated in your arousal to his lips and sucking them dry. Every last drop worked its way into his mouth and he salivated at the taste - the smell.
“Harry—”
“The bill Sir.” The waiter interrupted you without knowing. Harry took out his wallet and used his card on the card machine, before signing his name on the cheque as if to affirm that he has paid.
“Thank you.” Harry spoke kindly, completely different to how he was with you all but two minutes ago.
“Thank you Sir, Ma’am. Have a lovely rest of your evening.” And he wad gone again with his smile.
Harry turned to you with the largest grin on his face, “Oh we will.”
••••
“Oli stop eating the leftover lasagne it’s for mums lunch!”
Belle was rushing around trying to chill everything down. The party was so out of control that even Oli and Felix were wasted. Megan was blowing hot and cold with her too, so she had no idea where she stood with them.
People were everywhere. Too many people that it was becoming claustrophobic. Felix was currently playing beer pong with a group of his friends, Heather attached at his hip, whilst Oli was sitting on the kitchen countertop eating cold lasagne. The boy was like chuffing Garfield. Belle was doing her best to keep calm, but as the night progressed it started to become worse and worse as it got harder to control.
As Belle turned to leave the kitchen, her brother clearly not listening to her, she bumped into someone. Kyle. Fucking Kyle. The guy who had obsessed over her to the point where Harry was seriously considering getting a restraining order on him to protect his daughter. He was a straight A creep and Belle hadn’t even realised he’d been invited to this party. Then again, over half of these people had most definitely not been invited.
“Oh hey Isabelle.” He stressed her whole name, knowing how much she hated it. Well, she didn’t hate her name she just hated him saying her name.
“Go away Kyle.”
“But I just got here.”
“And now you can just leave. Party’s ending anyways.” Belle stood her ground, but her hands were shaking from being even remotely close to this guy. He was disgusting to the point where if you were stuck between having to choose between being with him or eating mouldy cheese, you’d eat the cheese on a fucking silver platter.
“Looks quite alive to me.”
“Well i’m shutting it down and you’re going to leave. Now.”
“You need to liven up Belle.” Kyle chuckled through his nose, making him look scary as he towered over Belle, “let me help you.” He leaned forwards to grab her arm but she was quick to push him away.
“No! Leave me alone!” Belle shouted, trying to dodge around him but he was quicker. He grabbed her arm tight and pulled her back to him, chest touching chest. “Get off me Kyle.” Belle squirmed in his hold, which only made Kyle happier - the creep.
“C’mon Bella, live a little.”
“My name’s not Bella and I told you to get the fuck off of me.” Belle pulled back with all her might, whilst kicking him square in the balls - probably hard enough so he’ll never be able to have children - and then drove her knee up to crack his nose - successfully. Damn, that felt good. Heavily badass, actually.
“You fucking psycho!” Kyle held his nose and his balls in pain, straightening himself up as if to launch himself with fury at Belle. Luckily for her the outburst between the pair had caught attention of people - including Oli and Felix.
Oli was quick to step in front of Kyle, Felix just behind him. “You dare lay a fucking finger on my sister and I swear to you you’ll regret it.” Oli threatened, fists curled tight at his sides.
Heather came to hug Belle, comforting as she cried through the after shock of the situation. She’d been so brave and handled herself so well though. “You okay?” She kindly asked.
“Y-yeah.” No.
Everyone was now watching. The music had been muted to the point where you could tell it was playing but you couldn’t tell which song it was. Friends of Oli and Felix were standing close by in case things got messy, which normally only happened between the two brothers and not this way. Doors could be heard opening and shutting as people came in and out from places to watch the debacle occur between the hosts of the party and the unwelcome visitor. Oli and Felix knew they had to be careful though, because one wrong video and it could badly effect their dad’s career. Belle shook in Heathers arms and wished this nightmare of an evening to be over.
“Oh the whore’s not worth it anyways.” Kyle laughed, rolling his eyes as he pointed towards Belle.
“The fuck did you just call my daughter?”
Oh fucking shit balls.
“Dad?” Belle asked warily, seeing his dad stood in the doorway of the front door, her mum standing close behind him with her hand tightly clutched to his. As much as Belle was terrified that her parents had busted them, she also felt safe in their presence.
“Oh and here comes perfect-dad-of-the-year Harry Styles to the rescue.” Kyle teased which made Felix move forward in protest of his words.
“Fix.” Harry sternly called his name, making his son stop and look towards his dad who was shaking his head with a soft smile. Harry walked over towards Belle first, you still clutched tightly to him. “You alright?” He asked sincerely, not looking cross or disappointed at all. Belle nodded quickly and kept her head pressed to Heather’s chest. Harry turned to see his boys, raising his eyebrows to wordlessly ask them the same question to which they nodded too.
Harry dropped your hand, leaving you to stand with your sons, and left your forehead with a kiss before making his way to Kyle. “You okay boys?” You asked again, even though you knew Harry just asked.
“Yeah. Are you mum?” Oli asked, coming to wrap his arm around his mums neck to comfort her. He was so kind and thoughtful, just like his dad.
“Listen up, Kyle.” Harry started, keeping a good distance between him and the boy, “If you ever come near my family again i’m ordering a restraining order. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. If you break that order you’ll be going to jail. Big league jail too. Again not a threat, a promise. So you’re going to leave my house, this property in its’ entirety and go home to sit in your room and think about whether you would prefer to be in a prison cell instead. Do you understand?”
Okay, you’d be lying if you said his authority didn’t turn you on.
“Y-yeah.” Kyle mumbled pathetically.
“I said do you understand?” Harry repeated again, clearly not satisfied with the answer given.
“Yes Mr Styles.” Kyle said more surely, before scramming from the house, from the party and from the neighbourhood.
“Now everyone out of my house before I call the police.” Everyone knew how that was not an empty threat and dashed out of his house. Some looked at him in awe, because this was probably their once and only chance of being in the presence of the Harry Styles. He sighed as he walked to the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter to think.
“Should we—” Belle started to talk but you cut her off.
“No, hunny. Let me go talk to your dad. You lot,” referring to your children and girlfriends who’d kindly stayed behind in support, “can go fetch some bin liners and start cleaning this all up.” You pointed around to the mess that was your house, before walking off to the kitchen.
You looked around at the mess. A broken vase. Litter everywhere. Half-drunken drinks left on the table. Bottle openers you definitely didn’t own before tonight. Trousers? You couldn’t help but giggle at the surrounding sight.
“What’s got you laughing?” Harry asked, still in his fancy shoes and fancy coat, you still in your fancy heels and your fancy coat. Yet, you were both standing in what looks like a garbage dump site. Harry moved his hand away from his face and looked at you with a blank expression.
“You were right!” You laughed.
“Your reaction as if that’s a bloody miracle, love, which kind of an ego crush, but continue.” He rolled his eyes and you rolled yours in response. You clicked your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he kept his wrapped around his own obviously still closing himself off.
“Our kids are being reckless and crazy.” You recalled dinners earlier conversation, smiling up at him in admiration.
“I didn’t actually mean it, it was just a quick way to make you feel better.” He groaned in frustration.
“Well gee thanks babe!” You laughed at the whole irony of this situation. “Harry, babe, look at me,” you had to used your hand to turn his cheek to face you, stroking his cheek to calm him, “adulthood - parenthood - doesn’t define the choices we have to make. We do. And our children, apart from that last little bit, seemed like they had the most freeing and most brilliant night yet! Let them be reckless H. Let them make mistakes. Just because this happened doesn’t make us bad parents, and it doesn’t make us bad parents if we decide no punishment—”
“Ha like that’s going to happen!” Harry cut you off and you glared at him to just shut up.
“Just shut up, you oaf. Let the kids live while they’re young.”
“You did not just reference one of my songs.” Harry looked to the ceiling as he smiled widely, before shortly laughing at how cheesy that was. “Oh my god Y/N!”
“What? Was is that bad?”
“Yes, babe. Yeah it really was.” He looked back down at you to see you smiling and he couldn’t help but cup your cheeks and kiss you silly. His perfect lips fit yours and you tasted him until you couldn’t breathe. “I love you.”
“I love you. Now go help clean up.” You ordered him, making him look at you confused.
“What the hell have I done to deserve this?”
“You booked the hotel for next weekend instead of this weekend you div. Now go.” You smacked his backside and he strolled back over to you and pushed you into the counter. You gasped at the sudden motion.
“Do that again and let’s see what happens.” He whispered dangerously against your lips.
“Go clean up and then see what’s waiting in our bedroom.” You bit your lip and tugged Harry’s hand to under your dress, giving him only a slight feel of how wet you were before letting his hand go and walking away.
“Kids, hand me a bloody bin bag. Now!”
517 notes · View notes
emmyhem · 4 years ago
Text
everything you’re missing (c.t.h)
a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33
pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader
summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.
warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing
word count: 4.7k
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You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 
So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 
A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 
You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 
With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 
But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 
You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 
“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 
“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 
“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 
“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”
He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 
“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.
You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 
“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 
Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  
The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 
Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 
When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 
“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 
‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 
“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 
Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 
“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 
You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 
Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 
“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 
He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 
“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 
Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 
“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 
“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 
“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 
“And?” he spoke flatly. 
“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 
“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 
Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 
Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 
“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 
“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 
He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 
“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 
Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 
“Thank you, Cal.” 
He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 
“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 
“You don’t deserve any of it.” 
“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 
Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 
“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 
You let out a breath of exhaustion. 
Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 
“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 
“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 
You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 
“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 
Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 
Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 
“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 
“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 
You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 
“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 
Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 
Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 
“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 
Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 
Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 
Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 
“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 
“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 
Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.
Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.
You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 
“Hungry?” he questioned. 
“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 
“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 
“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 
But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 
“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 
“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 
“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 
“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 
“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 
“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 
“I’m not flustered.” 
“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 
You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 
“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 
He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 
“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 
 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 
The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 
Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 
“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.
You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 
“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 
Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 
“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 
Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 
Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 
He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 
If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 
Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 
“What’re you thinking about, love?” 
Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 
“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 
Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 
Fuck it. 
“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 
That you weren’t expecting. 
A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 
And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 
His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 
“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”
“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 
“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 
He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 
“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.
“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.
“Want you.” 
He could’ve came then and there. 
“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 
Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.
Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 
“Want it off?” he teased. 
You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 
Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 
You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 
Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 
“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 
His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 
“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 
“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 
He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.
“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 
The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 
“Cal, please.” you begged. 
He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 
It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 
A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 
“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 
Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 
“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 
When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 
“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 
Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 
Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 
Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 
“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 
You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 
“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 
“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 
“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”
He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 
“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 
He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 
“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 
When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 
“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 
Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 
“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 
“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 
“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 
You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 
“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 
You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 
He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 
You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 
He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 
As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  
“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 
His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 
“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 
Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 
  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 
Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 
“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 
He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 
“I love you?” he obliged.
“Is it a question?” 
“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 
You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.
“I love you too.” you ensured. 
Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.
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shivada-jade · 3 years ago
Text
soulmates!
soulmate!au because im weak. you're weak too.
characters: bennett, zhongli, diluc ➡ mentions: barbara, lisa, guizhong, hu tao, kaeya, crepus warning(s): bennett luck (he gets hurt a lot), wrote this at 2:48am so my writing may or may not make sense
bennett: feels the same emotions from the other, but the emotions have to be strong and genuine
he never understood your sudden bursts of sadness. it would come at the most inconvenient at times.
for as long as he could remember, the emotions that weren't his are mostly sad. he asked his dads about it and gently told him his soulmate system is feeling emotions from the other.
after crying from an unknown pain, he made it his soul purpose to constantly be happy all the time, no matter how unlucky he could be so you can be happy too.
his dads worry when he falls down and scrapes his knee, but he would always reply with, "i'm not hurt! my soulmate is hurt!"
he would then clutch the fabric on his chest tightly, like he's been stabbed with a sword and say, "my soulmate hurts right here."
he heaves a breath, "it doesn't compare to whatever luck i get."
"this pain is bearable," he convinces himself when he comes out a hilichurl camp in cuts and bruises.
"your soulmate needs you to be happy for them," he chastises himself for shedding a tear when another adventurer wronged him.
he visits barbara to heal his wounds and asks how she always looks so... happy, so smiley.
"all it takes is one smile to make yourself happy. it can be a slow process but it works!" she singsongs, "miss lisa showed me a study about it."
ever since barbara explained, he smiles the brightest of smiles in mondstadt. he refuses to let other adventurers let him down, worried he might hurt you more than it is.
soon, he finds out that he feels no sadness coming from you. he feels no weight on his shoulders. he feels happy after Good hunter ran out of food for him.
these are not my emotions, he thinks, a wide grin creeping it's way to his face.
he lets out the loudest laugh, giggles, and various joyous noises. he's never felt so happy in his life. for once, he feels lucky, because for once, you're finally happy in the other end of his invisible red string of fate.
his luck skyrockets when he sees a person around his age, with a gorgeous smile adorning their features. he knows its you, sitting by the fountain making wishes. he knows it's you when he sees your eyes that hold so much emotion.
it was as if his heart was tugging him to where you sat.
he's never felt so lucky to have you as his soulmate.
"thank you giving the best smiles"
zhongli: every time he passes his soulmate, he hears the sounds of bells ringing
now, zhongli never thought he would have a soulmate because of his past title of 'archon.' soulmate systems are a tricky thing. he knows there are so many ways to know your soulmate system.
the common system was their first words tattooed on themselves. many others had the ability to know when they meet them, in other words, a count down.
but zhongli never had those two, nor did he have faith in the soulmate system until the lantern rite festival.
walking by the busy streets, he muses to himself how pretty liyue is under the blanket of the moon and stars. he hears the merchants call to customers, attracting and waving at them to buy their products. he hears the clink of the mora in their bag is loud; the laughter from the children young and old marry a soft smile to his face.
he freezes, hearing something that should not belong in the lantern rite. the sound of bells ringing. it isn't any cow bell, or school bell. it's the sound of echoing, melodious wedding bells ringing his ear.
he vaguely remembers his friend guizhong mentioning about this rare particular soulmate system when she still roamed teyvat.
a soulmate!
zhongli stands straighter, eyes grazing on the sea of people, trying to see if anyone stopped to hear the bells he heard. he mutters a few apologies when people bump into him with lanterns in their hands, but that doesn't matter to him.
fate brought someone for him to love. it's just that... he doesn't know where.
he walks forward, he walks backwards to where he came from. he walks to the docks then to the top of liyue harbour, but he can't hear the sound of the bells again.
he doesn't panic. he doesn't rush, because he knows fate will bring you back together. he just doesn't know how long until he'll hear the bells again.
it came to him a surprise when he hears the bells everyday after that.
everyday when he sits at third-round knockout he hears the sound of bells behind him, but when he turns, he knows you've left already.
he sighs, blowing on his tea before taking light sips. it seems he won't be meeting you today.
one day, the ringing just stops. there's no sign of you, or your presence. zhongli assumes you're just taking a sick day, or you've decided to rest, but after a week of not hearing the bells, he worries.
archons, how he wanted to look for you, but he doesn't even know who you are. hu tao encourages zhongli to take the day off and look for you, so he did.
walking aimlessly in liyue, doubt crosses his mind. what if you were here for a business trip and left? it wasnt until he passes by a stunning figure he hears the bells again. he stiffens and turns to you when you stopped next to him.
"thank goodness," he says, slightly covering his smile with a gloved hand.
your eyes sparkle as you look at him, "thank goodness indeed."
diluc: lost possesions will come to your soulmate
for as long diluc knows, strange things always end up in his possessions: hairclips, pens, coins, and archons forbid- his soulmate's overdue bills.
his father laughs when younger diluc comes home dragging a wagon and the biggest teddy bear in history, because how on teyvat does someone lose a teddy bear taller than a door. crepus watches his son struggling to drag the big toy home and sees his other son pushing the wagon from behind, also struggling.
"what do you have there?"
all the response he gets are grunts. the side of his eyes crinkle with mirth, seeing his two sons having trouble bringing it home.
"father!" diluc calls out with a grin missing two of his front teeth, "i don't know where it came from. it's like it appeared from the sky."
"it actually did fall out of the sky!" kaeya says, "we were at the vineyard and i saw diluc get crushed!"
"i did not get crushed."
"did too," kaeya retaliates, sticking his tongue out.
that was the first time diluc heard of this certain soulmate system. lost things from his soulmate go to his possession; lost things from diluc go to his soulmate's possession.
crepus glances at his boys and gets an idea. he calls for them to follow him, and they do, obediently. he leads them to his room, pulling out a treasure chest full of frilly clothes, dresses, outfits that range from a farmer's outfit to a noblewoman.
"this chest is where your mother kept her favourite things," crepus pulls out a necklace from the bottom of the case. "this necklace was particularly her favourite."
diluc can see why. he's mesmerized by the ruby sparkle it hangs. the gold chain complimenting the red jewel and making it complete.
crepus clutches the necklace, looking at it longingly before placing it back in the chest. he places out all the old clothes from the container and lays it on his bed.
"you can keep your soulmate's things here like i once did. your pops is getting too old anyway, i-"
kaeya interrupts crepus jumps on the clothes that are on the bed, creating a havoc in the room. he jumps on the bed with so much energy even after diluc tells him about the story of the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.
though, crepus is having none of that. he picks up diluc by his small arms and flings him to kaeya, looking like a bowling ball knocking down a pin. the two boys gasp for air, shooting dirty looks at their father before they chase him out of the house.
the corner of diluc's mouth twitch up ever so slightly, remembering when he first knew of his soulmate. it would take a very observant person to notice his smile. he polishes the glass behind angel's share's counter. under the filtered sunlight, the glass glints. satisfied with the cleanliness.
the chest his father game him was fill of trinkets his soulmate had lost over the years, and good grief. his soulmate must be the most disorganized person ever. he remembers walking to dawn winery and a sack of mora drop on his feet. it wasn't a pleasant feeling, but the thing that has diluc worried is how his soulmate tends to lose the biggest things like a 7-foot-tall teddy bear.
diluc is about to place the wine glass on a cupboard until SMACK.
a thick paper hits his face from seemingly nowhere and so he knows that is his soulmate losing the tenth thing for the day. he has a room dedicated for the things his soulmate has lost, and he thinks he might need a second room.
he pulls the paper off his face and his eyes widen in shock. this two-inch thick paper are legal documents. loan agreements. overdue loan agreements.
[Name] [Last Name]
he notes the name in his head. [Name] owes the fatui 35 thousand mora as interest. what kind of reckless person- then it hits his mind. that sack of mora that fell from the sky was that 35 thousand to pay off the loans.
he knows where to go. he leaves the wineglass on the counter for charles to pick up and hastily grabs his coat and leaves the door.
"liyue, liyue, liyue, and the fatui." he chants in his head. loans. he greets his maid before ascending to his room. he snatches the mora that dropped on his feet and sprints out the door to retrieve his stallion.
a few hours at most to make it to where his fated partner was at, and so he sets off.
arriving at liyue is strange, seeing diluc's attire did not match the city, and seeing his hands are holding the reins of his horse tightly. a strange traveler from a foreign land... with a majestic stallion. he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale.
he lightly pats his horse, urging to go a bit faster from the trotting they were doing until he meets the gaze of a distressed person in front of the fatui.
"i swear! i had the money and the papers just today!"
diluc scoffs, knowing who they were now, and they did not have the money today. they lost it a week ago.
"listen," the masked fatui grumbles. "im just here to do my job. if i don't have the money in my hands right now i'll-"
diluc jumps off the saddle and unloads the sack of mora from the side, dropping it on the fatui's hand with a seething glare, yet still polite.
"i believe they owe you 35 thousand? sounds about right, no?" he says, letting his diplomatic side show a bit. "for the sake of it, why not amuse me and take this, david. hmm?"
the fatui goes rigid, hearing his name. he slowly lifts his eyes up, "master diluc." he curtly nods and skittishly walks away. one time david spilled drinks at a mondstadt political gathering. he spilled it on diluc.
the ragnvindr waits for the fatui to walk away before turning to his, supposedly love of his life.
"you're the one who lost a 7-foot-tall teddy bear when i was six," he points out, waiting for your response.
his soulmate sheepishly smiles, "well- i would have a good defense but hey, did you at least enjoy having a 7-feet-tall teddy bear fall on you?"
"i did, along with a glass mug falling on me as well."
"i just cant believe how you never lose your stuff!" they retort, "the only thing i got was a missing tooth from you."
the tip of diluc's ears turn the same colour as his hair, but still wears a stoic expression. "i'm diluc ragnvindr," he greets, slightly bowing his head.
"and i'm yours"
part 2: with ganyu, kaeya and thoma
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