#then decided sleep was the way to fix it. it kind of worked

[rhiannonsknife]

😭 Thank you so so so so so much for writing my request!! There's absolutely no rush with this I just wanted to ask another one, Because I'm kind of obsessed with your work-

Perhaps Jackie Taylor X Reader where they have been married for a long time. Like 10 plus years. She wakes up ready to go to work but their reading is standing in the kitchen, And it reminds Jackie of when they were so young and in love. It just makes her fall in love with the reader all over again and she decides she just has to take the reader and eat her out on the counter!

-🦜

── RUNNING HOME TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS

— summary: slow mornings with jackie.

— warnings: established relationship/marriage. fem!reader. domestic fluff & nsfw content. mdni.

jackie stretches as she wakes, letting consciousness settle over her slowly. the sheets are warm, cocooning her in their familiar weight, too tempting to leave just yet. from the other room, the quiet sounds of morning drift in; the rustle of pages turning, the soft clink of a spoon against ceramic.

jackie’s muscles, untrained but prominent from years of soccer in highschool and college, uncoil as she turns her head toward your side of the bed. it’s empty but still holds the warmth of you, the shape of your body faintly imprinted on the freshly washed sheets. not gone long, then. she smiles to herself, fingertips tracing the dip where you had been.

a soft weight presses against her shin, pulling her from the last remnants of sleep. glancing down, jackie finds your cat curled at the foot of the bed, paws tucked neatly under its chin. she reaches out, running her fingers over its soft fur, scratching lightly between its ears. the cat barely stirs, only flicking its tail once before sinking deeper into sleep. even after all these years, it still favors you.

with another stretch, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the morning air cool against her skin. reaching for the worn sweater draped over the chair, jackie tugs it on quickly. yours, technically, but she’s long since claimed it as her own in the mornings. the fabric is too large on her, with sleeves hanging way past her hands, but it smells like you and the lavender laundry detergent you always buy and feels more comforting than any of her own clothes.

once she pulls it over her head and untangles her limbs from the sheets, she moves from the bedroom. jackie already knows exactly where she’ll find you.

as she walks through the hallway, she passes all the little signs of your life together: the framed photo from your honeymoon hangs slightly crooked on the wall, something you always insist you’ll fix but never do. tucked into the frame is a worn polaroid from your first apartment, covering a small crack in the glass. in it, jackie is holding up a wine glass, while you’re caught mid-laugh, leaning into her the same way you always have, even in the wedding photos that follow further down the hall.

the entryway table holds a vase of dried flowers, a bouquet she had given you months ago, now preserved because you couldn’t throw them out. nearby, a small stack of mail she keeps meaning to sort through, books piled beside it, some hers, some yours, overlapping in the same way your lives always have. it’s a cozy kind of mess, one that makes her smile even in passing.

and then there’s you, the centerpiece of jackie’s existence now, standing in the kitchen, bathed in the light that spills through the curtains.

you’re still in your nightgown, its hem skimming the curve of your thighs, and your hair is a little mussed from sleep. one hand cradles a mug, while the other flips absently through a book on the counter, your lips quirking every so often at whatever you’re reading while you wait for the eggs to cook.

jackie freezes in the doorway to watch you for a bit.

it’s been over a decade. over ten years of this, of waking up and falling asleep to you, learning every single one of your habits, and still, she finds herself caught off guard by how much she loves you and how much she still wants you, in all the ways that matter.

she remembers mornings like this from the beginning, back when you were both in high school, and time alone was a rare thing. the only moments you had to yourselves then were tucked into the short window between her parents leaving for work and shauna pulling up to drive you both to school.

everything felt like new territory back then. your presence in her house had meant rushed breakfasts at the kitchen counter, stolen kisses between sips of coffee in the too-large home of the taylors, always cut short by the sound of an approaching car and the reality that you couldn’t stay.

now, here you are, still stealing her breath away.

you glance up as if sensing your wife, and your face softens into a smile. jackie swallows, her heart doing something embarrassingly teenage in her chest.

“you’re staring,” you tease, taking a sip of your tea. jackie hums, pushing off the doorframe and crossing the room. “can’t help it,”

you laugh. before you can say anything else, she’s there, warm hands finding your waist, pulling you into her. sighing into the touch, you instinctively set your mug down on the counter as she buries her face against your neck and breathes you in.

“mhm, good morning to you too mrs (y/l/n),” you murmur.

god, jackie never tires of hearing that: your name, now hers.

it had never even been a question. the moment it came up in a long conversation spent curled up bare under the sheets of the cottage where she’d proposed, jackie knew. you had tilted your head, fingers tracing lazy patterns against her shoulder, and asked, ‘so, what do we do about names?’ she had just shrugged, as if the answer was the simplest thing in the world. ‘i’ll take yours’

and that was that. no hesitation or second thoughts, just certainty, like so many things when it came to you.

“you still like the sound of that, huh?” you tilt your head enough for her to kiss you properly.

“best decision i ever made,” jackie whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. she can feel your smile against her lips in response.

“aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for work?”

she lets her hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt. “i changed my mind…”

“oh?”

“yeah. i think i’d rather stay here,”

you hum, and your fingers move into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging just enough to make jackie sigh against your mouth.

she always knows where you need her before you do yourself, and her hands slide further up beneath the silky fabric, over warm skin, cupping all of your breasts in her palms. her teeth graze your bottom lip just enough to make you whine into her. she swallows the sound greedily, tilting her head to kiss you deeper, her fingers tightening like she wants to pull you even closer. like close will never be close enough.

just as smoothly as she works your lips apart to slip her tongue in, she hooks her hands under your thighs and lifts you onto the counter. with a startled laugh, you let her move you. jackie grins when she steps between your legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs.

“easy,” you tease.

jackie’s palms caress up your parted thighs, the heat of her touch leaving a trail in its wake until settling firm at your hips. she holds you there and you exhale against her, fingers slipping back into her hair, curling it in your fists.

your legs tighten around her waist, pulling her in closer until jackie swears under her breath, clearly feeling the warmth that radiates from your center. she breaks the kiss just long enough to press her forehead against yours, breathing heavy, lips agape.

“you,” she accuses with her index poking your sides. “are trying to kill me here!”

“i’m not doing anything!” you protest.

jackie scoffs, quick to steal another kiss. then another. and another, like she has all the time in the world. right when you’re sure she’s going to lose herself entirely, the kitchen timer beeps.

the eggs.

for half a second, jackie looks almost offended at the rude interruption, but then your head drops against her shoulder and your body shakes with laughter. she groans, but your laughter is contagious, and soon enough, she’s laughing too.

jackie doesn’t let go of you, blindly reaching behind herself to fumble for the stove dial until she manages to turn it off.

“you’re just going to leave them sitting there?”

she nods, lips trailing down your jaw again so her voice comes out muffled. “they’ll survive”

you wrap your arms around her shoulders whilst she kisses her way back to your mouth.

jackie’s fingers fumble with the tie of your nightgown, working it open without needing to break the kiss. years spent learning where to tug and pull to free you from your clothes are to blame, the different motions muscle memory by now.

no matter how familiar jackie is with your body, she will never not take her time savoring the sight of you: you’re not wearing anything underneath, save for a thin pair of panties, so with the way she’s pushed the gown open your chest is on full display.

“so pretty,” she purrs, already closing the distance again. her hands cup your breasts, rolling your nipples gently at the same time as she’s kissing you. jackie’s mouth wanders to the side of your throat, then further down.

there’s no longer need for claim, for desperate encounters that aim to prove something. jackie will occasionally enjoy ravishing you (sinking her teeth in your flesh until the skin between them bruises all while she’s really fucking you), but it has become this for the most part: gentle lovemaking whenever you have the chance, still unable to keep your hands off of each other.

her lips briefly graze over the valley between your breasts, then slide below your belly button as she lowers her weight to the ground in front of you. with a smile, you cup one side of her face, taking your own share of time to admire your wife.

jackie doesn’t let you have a lot of it, though: before you know it, her mouth is on the fabric of your underwear and your head falls back against the wall as she feels you up with her tongue and lips, pressing in the places she’s memorized by heart.

“is that okay?” she breathes against you, still fully clothed, but aching with want.

“mhm,” you tighten your grip and jackie, who sighs happily in response and reaches out to peel your panties off. she’s careful with it, making sure you won’t slide off the counter while she lifts one leg after the other, just to pocket the underwear once that is done.

an invitation would not be necessary, and still, you spread your legs wider, not out of urgency but trust, shame and self consciousness long outgrown.

she has seen you in every state, knows every scar, every curve, every place where time has left its mark and, still, jackie looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. her hands brush over skin she’s traced a thousand times before, never with any less reverence.

you look down just in time to find jackie pressing a first kiss to your mound, her ragged breath ghosting over your soaked sex that pulses impatiently lower.

with the index and middle finger of her right hand parted, she runs them through you, spreading your labia open in awe. a breathless sound tears from your throat, aware of how easily her digits slide through your wetness.

“come on,” you urge, lifting a leg over her shoulder. easier access.

jackie complies; her lips are parted when she presses them against you, applying just the right amount of pressure. the moan you let out at the first contact is loud and ragged, echoing through the kitchen.

“right there,” you cry.

right there, not because jackie needs guidance but because you know she loves it when you’re open. loud. when you let her know that she’s making you feel good, whether it is by letting your moans slip or by praising her verbally.

the vibrations of the noise she makes in response go straight to your core, more arousal dripping for her mouth to drink up hungrily. it is coating her, slick and wet as she traces over your clit and swirls in clockwise circles.

for a while, jackie eats you out like this, getting lost in your taste just like you are in the sensations of her tongue flicking from side to side, licking broad strokes through you, then fucking into you deep.

her hair, a little longer now but still the same golden brown she’s been maintaining, clings to the thin film of sweat on her forehead in delicate strands, proof that she’s just as affected by what she’s doing to you, whilst her neatly manicured nails dig into your flesh. soft pastel pink almond shapes drag lines of red down the side of your thighs, goosebumps and shivers rising from the touch.

“you taste so good” she says softly once, then leans right back in to continuously flick your clit.

you can tell she’s toying with you, avoiding your most sensitive spots with purpose, only ever ghosting it briefly until you’re grinding yourself against her face in frustration you cannot contain. she knows exactly what you would need to get close to the edge, pretends to give it to you, then withdraws once pleasure starts building up.

“jackie,” you whine.

between your legs, she holds your gaze, reaches out and runs a hand through your folds. when she tilts her head, asking for permission silently, you immediately nod and jackie pushes forward, two fingers sinking into the heat of your cunt.

this draws the loudest moan from you yet, though you wouldn’t dare to try and stifle it.

that’s a habit you’ve long since left behind, discarded like the passed down furniture and mismatched dishes from your first apartment. then, everything had been hushed, kisses stolen behind locked doors, moans muffled into pillows. the walls were thin, the neighbors close, and the fear of being overheard turned every moment into a careful mix of restraint and want.

in the home you live in now, there are no walls to mind, no need to press a fist to your mouth to quiet yourself. here, you are free to gasp when jackie’s lips press against your clit, free to let her love you without reservation.

jackie has taken her mouth off of you to watch the way your face contorts in pleasure as she rubs the tips of her fingers against your g-spot, allowing you to see the arousal smeared across the lower half of her face, glistening beautifully in the light.

she’s moaning too, quieter and less desperate of course, but moaning all the same when she feels the way you flutter around her as though she could actually get off from this. your pleasure had always been jackie’s, too.

“good?” she rasps.

“mhm,” you lift your head from the wall behind you, watching in awe as jackie puts her tongue back to where you want it. you don’t even know what it is about jackie’s mouth but she could probably make you cum from nothing but gentle kisses if she tried, always knowing exactly where to move to coax the most pleasure from your body.

her hair curls up between your fingers when she starts sucking on your clit gently, drawing a contented hum from her mouth.

the words jackie is saying morph into muffled babbles against your cunt, her voice white noise to the pleasure that sets your nerve endings alight as she sucks, her eyes rolling back in their sockets at the taste of you.

“jackie” you gasp, your hips pushing further into her face. an unreleased tension starts building in your abdomen, making your whole body tremble wildly.

“are you close love?” jackie asks, her fingers thrusting into you at a faster pace. “it’s okay,” she sits back on her heels to look at you, her hand making up for the momentary loss of her mouth. “i got you. just let go”

your free hand reaches for hers, fingers lacing together so that she can give you one long squeeze. jackie’s mouth starts sucking your clit harsher, pushing into you deeper, making your walls clench around her fingers. the sensation is so much. it’s not nearly enough. it’s perfect, sending you over the edge in mere seconds.

with a strangled cry of jackie’s name, you cum against the feeling of her mouth on your clit and her fingers buried deep inside you. her voice feels distant as pleasure rushes through your veins.

“that’s it” jackie praises, holding you through your orgasm. “oh my god, that’s it. fuck, you’re so beautiful” she talks you through the entire height, her voice cracking whilst she watches you fall apart and come undone. she continues her licking and sucking too, until you comfortably move her head away, spent and on the verge of overstimulation.

with a wet pop, she releases your throbbing clit and presses a last kiss to your knee before rising to her feet. you’re still perched on the counter, catching your breath, warmth buzzing under your skin.

jackie reaches for the edges of your nightgown next, making quick work of pulling the fabric back together, tying it loosely at your waist. you watch her fuss over it with amusement, as if she hadn’t just spent the last several minutes undoing it in the first place. “very modest of you”

“someone’s gotta keep you decent,” she quips, a teasing smile on her lips as she slots herself back between your legs, hands settling at your waist. the kiss that follows is slow and sweet, her mouth still carrying the taste of you. jackie lingers until the soft scent of something cooking reminds you of the world beyond her touch.

your gaze flickers past her to the stove, where the eggs still sit, long forgotten. “so...you still want breakfast?”

jackie glances over her shoulder at the abandoned pan, then back at you, considering. “i mean, we did work up an appetite, huh?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at her arm playfully before slipping down from the counter. she doesn’t let you go far, her hands finding your waist again as she stands behind you, holding you close while you move around the kitchen.

[buck-yyyy]

man, today has been such a Day <- i say this as though every day doesn’t feel like such a Day

[walkingstackofbooks]

@dreamerdrop #.oh god. that would catapult julian’s need to express love by fixing people into overdrive.#.he’d work himself ragged trying to help her until he’s a sleep deprived miserable mess. [...] #.the horror of julian bashir feeling responsible for someone’s wellbeing. #.when his first experience with that was his parents who decided that Happiness and Wellbeing were two very different things.

God. To start with, he'd read every book on this sort of trauma, attend every course, spend half of *his* sessions with Counsellor Telnorri sidetracked on methods of therapy that might help Sarina. And he'd be getting nowhere. He'd be reaching out to other Federation counsellors, trying to get someone to help, but none can be spared in person - not with the war and the shortage of them in Starfleet, especially not when DS9 already has a counsellor, and certainly not for one, singular augment.

And I think he'd be patient, and sweet, and kind to her. But he'd also be incredibly frustrated that she wasn't getting better, and that he wasn't good enough to make her better, and be utterly convinced that there must be some way to reach her, to communicate. But trauma works on its own timeline, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

Some weeks later, he gets a communication from a Doctor Lowes, who's woken up to discover that her patients have been spread out across the world. She asks after Sarina, requests a subspace call so she can speak to her - but also includes a recreation of Sarina's medical file: her background, her history, her personality.

Of course! thinks Julian, bitterly. Why didn't I think of that? Because he sees now that he was going about trying to 'fix her' in completely the wrong way. Her silence wasn't because of the bombing - it was a symptom of her enhancements! Which means there could be a surgical solution to this, even if he has to reinvent genetic engineering himself. That's something he could do.

And of course, once he thinks of it, there's no stopping him. And honestly, I'm not sure if anyone would try to. They all know how attached Julian's become to Sarina - they've all become quite attached, honestly - and at least initially it would seem like an endeavour worth Julian's effort.

Unlike in Chrysalis, however, Jack and Lauren and Patrick aren't there to help recalibrate the medical probe, so Julian doesn't have anyone to turn to when Miles takes a look of it and tells him it's impossible, that you can't break the laws of physics. He's only got himself. And once he gets obsessively into engineering, to the point where it's all he talks about, even with Sarina... When his calm patience wears thin from weeks of guilt and insomnia and disappointments, and he starts getting frustrated with Sarina, certain she could help him if only she could do something — that's when the others realise that it's far past the time to bring him back from all this.

---

I can also completely imagine the same situation for your first consideration. Julian being driven to try and "fix" all three of them, because if they can pass for normal, like he could, then maybe they won't be targeted, maybe they'll be able to keep out of danger and look after themselves, maybe they won't be at risk anymore because of him... It's not just his desire to help, or feeling of responsibility - it's a necessary penance for the bombing ever happening in the first place.

Today on "Hurting Julian With Unneccesarily Awful Things": after Julian gets outed, there is an upswelling of anti-augment sentiment, with radical groups using his "terrifying deception in the heart of Starfleet" to rouse people's fear and anger. There are protests; there is violence—

And one night, Julian's woken up by a sorrowful-looking Sisko, who tells him that he's sorry, but he didn't want Julian to find out any other way. There's been an attack. It's the Insitute. It's been bombed.

[lalunanymph]

CAUGHT

☆° syp: caleb catches you jerking off and decides to try something new with you

☆° tw: caleb x fem!reader, masturbating, watching p0rn, suspension, improper use of evol, dom!caleb, unprotected sex, bondage, dirty talk, possessiveness, silly banter, kinda crack-ish at the end, brat taming-ish, 1.8k+ words

☆° dawn says: caleb's secret times affinity 85 has got me feeling some kinda way so i locked in for two hours and wrote this (shame)

Skyhaven is chilly, but under the sheets of your shared bed with Caleb, you’re sweating your ass off. 

It’s not like you to typically be this… well, desperate, but hey—ovulation week can tank even the most disciplined of girls. And you, for sure, aren’t the strongest when it comes to fighting back these primal urges. 

Your fingers make quick work under the bands of your sleep pants, and you’re huffing, panting as your eyes lock onto your phone screen, drinking in the sight of a woman passionately getting eaten out by her Dominant as she’s dangling from the ceiling in shibari. Look—not to yuck anyone’s yum, but you sure as hell didn’t think you’d find something like this hot. 

Caleb and you were still… finding your intimacy footing. He’s gentle and sweet in bed, always paying attention to your needs. He wouldn’t even come unless you were close, constantly edging himself so you two could fall down the precipice together.

Warm and kind, you could never envision him doing something like this to you. 

The woman moans through your wireless earbuds, her hair cascading in magnificent waves. Her Dom grunts, a mess between her thighs, his chin and cheeks slick with her juices. You can tell from how her belly is constricting rapidly that she’s close, and your body surges in a feverish pitch, trying to find your own peak.

When, suddenly, the blanket is yanked off your body and you’re looking right into the wide eyes of your boyfriend. 

Caleb stands, frozen, still in his Colonel uniform. He’s had a hard day—you can tell. He looks deprived of a few hours of sleep, and his shoulders are rigid.

But, the second he fixes his gaze on you, his jaw goes slack. In awe.

You quickly yank your hand out of your pants and remove your earbuds. But, this damn technology had it out for you. The second your wireless connection is disconnected, moans and slurps fill the awkward space between you and Caleb—definitely blowing your cover.

“Crap!” 

With a squeak, you hasten to switch off your phone, mortification washing over you in waves. You scramble to sit up, and as if you hadn’t been edging yourself to an explosive orgasm, you nervously chuckle, unaware of how Caleb’s eyes have darkened. 

“Pipsqueak…” His voice is low, fringed with curious suspicion. “What was that?” 

Before you can change the subject and claim that it’s nothing, the pull of gravity flicks your phone off the bed and into his hand. He knows your password by heart, like how you know his, and when the screen flickers to life, he huffs under his breath.

“So… this is what my naughty little girl gets up to when I’m not home, huh.”

His words send an unexpected thrill down your spine, but you’re too horrified to say anything else, your cheeks leeched off color. 

You stutter, “It’s not what you think—” But, he cuts you off, shaking his head. 

“Boo. Wrong. Means I’m not treating you right,” he chuckles, and tosses the phone back to you. “But, y’know what, I’ve always liked a little challenge, so maybe it’s time we took things… to another level.”

Curlicues of heat shiver down your body, and you throb hotly between your thighs. Stubbornness, however, would be your downfall when you scoff and try to play off the intensity building you two. “Caleb, you big dummy—I told you it was nothing—”

He grips your jaw, gently tilting your face up to meet his. 

For the past few minutes, you’ve been resolutely avoiding his gaze, afraid of what you might find there. But, when you tentatively slide your eyes to meet him, you’re not greeted by contempt or disgust as you originally thought. 

Caleb’s looking down at you with an inexplicable heat in his gaze. There’s a slight tremble in his fingers, though his expression remains deceptively calm. 

“Princess, come on.” His thumb strokes your lower lip. “When have I ever judged you, huh? I love you—” He sounds ardent. Sincere. “I love you and I would do anything you wanted. Anything at all.” 

A fissure of arousal snakes through your veins, lighting you up from head to toe. 

“... anything?” 

Caleb doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Anything.”

… 

Which is how you currently find yourself suspended in mid-air, at the mercy of his Evol. 

Caleb sticks true to the unholy scriptures found on your phone’s browser, on his knees, right between your thighs. 

He does that thing with his tongue you absolutely adore. You squirm in your gravitational bindings and he glances up at you, a glint in his eyes. Hoarsely, he rasps, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

His tongue digs back into your insides, and your warbling cry resounds throughout the room. Caleb’s not gonna stop—he’s gonna make sure the whole of Skyhaven hears you coming.

“Louder,” he growls, and he picks up the pace, slurpin’ down on your folds like it’s his last meal. Fast. Messy. He punctuates the rhythm of his laps with grunts of, “Pretty. So pretty.”

Your pliant body is for him to do as he pleases. Every touch. Every lick. Every caress. Caleb knows what he’s doing—how exactly to drive you wild. This feeling of power and control that comes down on him—it’s heady. 

Addictive.

You’re the sweetest addiction he can never get over. Your body, your sounds.

God, it drives him insane.

The sway of your hips as he bullies his tongue deep into the buttery heat of your arousal makes him grin, shark-like. 

“Enjoyin’ this, baby?” He pauses to whisper between laps. 

You’re unable to move in mid-air. The ends of your hair sway with every tremble of your body. You’re gasping, eyes-crossed, dumb on his tongue. He has your arms dangling at your sides, and maneuvers them over your head with his Evol to really hammer in your helplessness. 

“Pretty like a doll,” he groans, all lustful and thick. Drip, drip. The syrupy gloss of your juices saturate his tongue, and he moans at the taste, like honey and sunshine that comes straight from his favorite fountain. 

Oh, he has it down bad—

Caleb can’t think. Can’t focus past the ravenous hunger demolishing his composure, making him thirsty and hungry for only you. 

And, god do you taste divine. 

His Adam’s apple bulges down on a swallow as you feed him some of your squirt. “There ya go—” he growls, placing a quick smack! on your inner thigh. “Squirtin’ like the ripest peach f’me. Pretty little peach. My pretty—” he rolls his tongue over your folds, swirling it like a madman hellbent on pushing you down the last cliff of your sanity. “—pretty lil’ princess.” 

“Caleb!” Your meek cry doesn’t stop him.

“Nuh-uh,” he moans into the thick of your treacly folds, all swollen and puffy now from his ministrations. “S’not a safe word, baby.” 

You want to hold him. Pull his stupid face up and kiss him senseless.

But, he’s got all the ropes now. You’re just a puppet caught in his web. 

A marionette he can’t wait to fuck straight until she can’t walk.

“Did’cha think I would let you go after that lil’ stunt you pulled, princess?” His leering smirk disappears back between your thighs, the edges of his teeth grazing your trembling, defenseless clit. “Touchin’ yourself like I don’t please you every night—you wound me, baby.”

The raw possessiveness of it all makes you clench down on his devious tongue. Caleb is out for blood, and he won’t stop until he milks you dry. 

He slurs his stake right into the heart of your cunt, lapping at the pearly drops of pleasure oozing right down to the ground. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it for you. Fuck you on the moon if you want.”

“Caleb—” you whine. 

You’re close—trembling violently. “Caleb, please—inside,” you gurgle. “Inside me, please!” 

He answers your prayers in a split second, cock pushing through your tight heat, up and down, up and down, stroking, thrusting…

He’s as keyed up as you are. The sloppy plap plap plaps of your bodies meeting together makes his pride soar and his balls clench. Caleb digs his fingers into your hips, watching your body undulate in thin air—like a ship rocked apart by a storm with only his cock as an anchor. 

The silver glint of his dog tag slams back onto his chest repeatedly. His abs are coated with a light layer of sweat and exertion. He’s sprinting you to the finish line, both of you keyed up beyond belief—he needs to see you shattering all over him like the finest China falling to the ground. 

“God, you look so good like this,” he licks his lips, dragging his tongue over a spot of pussy juice he missed, moaning when he tastes you again. “Hair all flowin’, body all taut. Imagine if I had you in ropes, baby,” he grunts, gunning for the sweet ending, digging the balls of his feet into the hardwood floor for maximum thrusting. “You’d be—hngnn—under my control.” 

His words snap the fragile crisp of self-control you’re holding onto. 

You come for him, loud and wholeheartedly, and the gusto makes his heart soar, his cock throb—

Warm spurts fill you to the brim, and your shackled-to-the-air legs tremble, your body trembling in zero gravity.

Caleb gnashes his teeth and whines like a mad dog coming down from his high, using the last of his strength to catch you as you both go tumbling to the floor like Lego pieces. 

For a second, the room swims in a pure haze of white light. You can’t feel your feet, or your hands. 

Shit—he’s fucked the soul out of you. 

But, in the ringing silence, you feel his hand gently cradle your head to his chest, and the wayward seed is back on her beloved apple tree. 

Caleb caresses your head, gently leaving kisses on your temple, cheeks, chin. Anywhere his mouth can reach. 

After a moment of silence, you reach for your phone and he raises a brow.

“Seriously? You’re not gonna make a Moments post right now, are ya, Pipsqueak?” 

You flop onto his chest, and rather than being tuckered out like he hoped you would be, you kick your feet up, giggling as you scroll through your phone. “Noooo. Got something else better in mind.” 

He nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your custom-made shampoo you once DIY-ed with him at a fragrance fair. Your excitement re-sparks the flames again, and he chuckles when you excitedly show him your phone screen—showing off a new position where the bepenised specimen has his unimportant half lying down the side of the bed while his female counterpart hops up and down his more important half.

It looks easy enough, and Caleb is surprisingly limber for his size. 

“Supernova, huh?” He squints at the screen, looking deep in thought. “I guess it’s doable—”

You shake your head, tossing him a grin brimming with mischief.

“Oh. I’m not done yet.” You swipe the screen, and it’s an even more complicated position. He inwardly tries not to break. Caleb has indirectly created an insatiable monster.

“Have you ever tried this one~?” 

♡ feedback and reblogs are appreciated

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or feed my works into AI.

[coldfanbou]

Saleswoman

Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.

Length 2.1K

Yuna X Mreader

Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through. 

Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face. 

“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.

“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”

“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states. 

You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.

“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”

“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.

“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”

“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.

She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.

You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock. 

“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna. 

She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste. 

Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock. 

You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her. 

Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.

You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving. 

You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth. 

“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.

You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in.  Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again.  You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress. 

You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.

“I think you’re right. It is better.”

“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.

You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.

[pinkiebieberpie]

YESSS THE PEOPLE WANT FARMER BUCKY !!!!

OH MY MY MY ���ઉ

(singledad!farmer!bucky x f!reader)

i'm happy to give the people what they want <33 i'm not much of a writer and it's more of a longer blurb/a few scenerios put in one longer post, but if you want to you can check my fic masterlist // inspired by this moodboard, enjoy!! reblogs and feedback is appreciated <33 (and yes the title is taylor swift coded, if you know you know.) ++ @bstorn wanted to be tagged.

words: 1.5k

warnings: death (mentioned), age gap (reader is in her mid 20s, bucky is in his early 40s), mention of drinking, mention of hair pulling, smut, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, outside sex (fuck being quiet, they are sleeping), unprotected sex, cockwarming and creampie (but also not really??? but it is here???)

life is messy. y/n's was actually very messy that's why she decided to move, leave her old life behind and change everything. how did she end up in a small town in the middle of texas? nobody knows, but she was there alone.

the first month was the hardest, she found a new job in a bakery, made a friend - her coworker, jessie but there was not really much to do, calm town, everyone knew each other, basically no privacy. after that first month y/n met bucky, a single father of two, a farmer and big enthusiast of chocolate cookies they were selling at the bakery. was he flirty? maybe. was he friendly? 100%.

it all started innocent.

"hi, i'm bucky, you new in town?"

"how do you like it here?"

"if you need any help feel free to reach out."

and y/n in fact did reach out, cause she needed help when her apartmet flooded. it was out of the blue the next day when bucky came to the bakery, but he was more than happy to help. that day y/n and bucky get to know each other a little bit more. she found out he has two daughters, annie (4 years old) and bea (6 years old), he owns one of the biggest farms in town and it's in his family since... forever, really. she was sure he is married, he was wearing a wedding ring, but that was just a habit - his wife died two years ago in an accident. the conversation was smooth, it was clear that the chemistry was there, but nobody made a move.

"all should be fine now." was what bucky said when he finished fixing y/n's plumbing problem. was she starring at him a bit when he was fixing her sink? yes.

"thank you, really, i had no idea what to do and i don't know that many people here... so i kind of had to ask my friendly neighbourhood customer for help." she chuckled and licked her lip a little bit.

"oh, it's nothing, actually i have a favor to ask, myself... it's okay if you feel like this is too much, but i have to help my friend out of town on the weekend, he has some problems with his animals and i can't leave girls alone, could you babysit? i can pay!"

"what? babysit? i- i never did that, but if your daughters are even half as kind as you, i bet they are angels, so yeah, i can do that, i'm not working over the weekend, you don't have to worry. and you don't have to pay me, it's favor for a favor."

was it a bit weird and a bit fast? for some people maybe, but both of them really felt like they could've trust each other. and that's how y/n became a babysitter for annie and bea. the girls were little angels, that was true. it became a thing that y/n was coming over to play with them and watch them, when bucky was working or when he was busy with whatever he needed to do. girls adored her. she baked cookies with them, they played outside together, she loved reading books with annie and bea and they loved to listen to them.

one night bucky came home really late, the girls were sleeping and y/n fell asleep on the couch too. closing the door woke her up and looked at bucky all sleepy.

"huh? you are home? i better pack my thin-"

"are you crazy? it's 3am, you are staying here, i will drive you home in the morning." he said it with a tone that left no place for arguing. she was a bit turned on by his voice, but no way she would ever tell bucky that. they were friends. only friends, with a weird chemistry, but still friends... but are you really friends when it's 3am and you are sitting on a couch with a man so much older, talking about life, drinking and being really and i mean really comfortable with each other?

that night went peaceful and quietly, in the morning bucky made breakfast for all three of the girls and when his kids were ready all four of them left his farm. first bucky and y/n dropped annie and bea at their preschool and then they made their way to y/n's house.

"you know, they adore you." bucky said while he way driving. y/n felt her cheeks getting a bit more pinkish. and she had no idea why, it was a compliment from his daughters, kind of, not from him. but at this point she knew she was falling for this man and there was nothing she could do about it.

✧✧✧

a few months passed and everything was going great for both bucky and y/n. they were meeting almost every weekend and more than one time during the work week. one day bucky invided her to a picnic at his farm, but... it was only two of them. the girls visited their grandma, and the truth was bucky wanted to spend some time alone with his... friend? his who? that was maybe a little bit more complicated than he wanted it to be. farmer was thinking about her all the time and he was ready to make things official. he wasn't in a relationship since his wife passed and that was over two years ago! he deserved to be happy.

when bucky asked y/n to be his girlfriend she was speachless, cause of course she wanted it, she wanted it bad. she wanted him bad, to be honest. soon she found out bucky wasn't always that sweet and caring man everyone thought he was. he was a very typical girl dad, he was making breakfast for his kids every morning, doing their hair, but he was also that type of man to pull your hair very hard when you were alone. and y/n loved it. every second of it.

their relationship was perfect, y/n loved waking up next to him almost every morning, she moved in really quickly. it wasn't even strange for the girl, they accepted it, after all annie and bea loved having y/n around.

one night y/n and bucky put the girls to bed earlier, because they planned a dinner. bucky cooked and prepared everything and all y/n had to do was to just look pretty when everything was ready.

"god, angel, you look stunning." was what bucky said when he saw y/n in her short, black dress. they ate their dinner, had some red wine and since it was warm summer they left home to sit outside. the moon looked marvelous and y/n looked even more beautiful in it's light.

it didn't took much for bucky to start kissing her. first her lips, then her neck, her exposed cleavage. y/n started breathing faster and then he dropped on his knees and rolled her dress up. first he was kissing y/n's thighs, then his lips were on her already wet panties. her noises were getting louder, then bucky took off her underwear. his lips were soft at first, teasing her, but when she buckled up her hips to him that was a sign he had no idea he was waiting for. bucky's tounge was making her more and more wet and she was only getting louder. her hands ended up in his long hair, pulling them hard when he added fingers to his ministrations.

"c'mon sweetie, you are making really cute noises, but you can be louder than that... girls are sleeping inside you can be as loud as you can." he hummed, his lips still so close to your aching pussy. it was hard being quiet with this man, he was making y/n feel like she was floating with his fingers and tounge alone. after her first orgasm they moved to their bedroom. they ended up naked a second after the door closed behind them. lips and hands were everywhere. their bodies so close, lots of moans and gasps. it was a perfect mix between soft love making and rough fucking and it made y/n lost her mind. at some point bucky covered her mouth.

"shh... we are not outside anymore, girls are sleeping next door, you have to be quiet now, doll." he whispered into her ear as he bit it. he was moving inside her with a steady rythm. her hands were on his back, nails in his skin leaving marks, it wasn't long before y/n finished again. when bucky wanted to move she wrapped her legs around him.

"no, please, i want to feel you..." she purred in the croock of his neck. he hapilly obliged. and that's how they both fell asleep. bodies tangled together, their breaths steady and calm and the whole life ahead of them. maybe with more than just two kids in the future...

[deliciousangelfestival]

Only The Lonely - Bucky | Oneshot

Summary: Late at night, the last train is Bucky’s escape from the chaos of his life—quiet and predictable. It’s his only peaceful moment. But when a stranger’s simple kindness interrupts his routine, what starts as an annoyance slowly turns into something unexpected.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy, Slice Of Life

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way I publish my book Arrogant Ex Husband in Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

1:00 a.m.

The last train of the night. The final hour before the city sleeps, when the world quiets and only a few remain in motion. Most passengers at this hour are creatures of necessity—night-shift workers dragging their tired bodies home, partygoers sobering up after a wild night, travelers in transit, students cramming for exams, or employees finishing late.

And then, there are the unpredictable ones. The lost souls.

It’s the perfect way to describe him. Bucky.

His job makes his life unpredictable—demanding, stressful, suffocating. Every day feels like it’s crushing him, the weight of expectations pressing down on his chest until it’s hard to breathe. But this train ride, the one just before the clock strikes 1:00 a.m., is his sanctuary.

It’s the only time his mind is blissfully empty. The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels on the tracks is a comfort—steady, reliable, unlike the chaos of his day. He listens to the low hum of the engine, the occasional screech as the train rounds a curve. He likes the way the train sways, how it rocks him gently, as if coaxing him to let go of his thoughts.

Most importantly, he likes being alone.

But tonight is different.

When he steps into the nearly empty car and heads to his usual seat, someone is already sitting there.

Have you ever felt that irritation when someone rearranges your kitchen and you can’t find the salt? That’s how Bucky feels. A simmering annoyance, irrational but undeniable.

He grits his teeth but says nothing. It’s public transportation—he has no right to be mad. Instead, he silently takes the seat across from the stranger, determined to ignore them.

At first, you don’t notice him bristling across from you. You’re relieved to see another person, especially this late at night. You’ve never liked taking the last train—it’s eerie when you’re alone—but it’s cheaper than a taxi, and money is tight. Working as a hotel chef is exhausting, and every penny counts.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was starting to think I’d be the only one on this train,” you say, offering a polite smile, hoping to make conversation.

Bucky doesn’t respond. He barely glances at you, his eyes dark and tired, fixed on the window as if willing the world outside to distract him. His shoulders are tense, his jaw set in a silent refusal to engage.

You sense his exhaustion and decide not to push. He’s tired, you think. Maybe next time.

The Next Night. When Bucky steps onto the train, he immediately spots you. Sitting in the same seat as before.

He exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his eyes. Not again.

As if sensing his presence, you look up and wave. It’s a small, friendly gesture. Bucky doesn’t wave back—he just nods, a curt, obligatory acknowledgment. He doesn’t want to be rude, but he also doesn’t want to encourage conversation.

The train ride is quiet, but Bucky’s peace is shattered.

The Third Night. This time, you both arrive at the station at the same time.

You smile when you see him. “Hey! We’re train buddies now,” you say cheerfully as you walk side by side toward the platform.

Bucky scoffs, a quiet, dry sound, but there’s no real malice in it. He glances at you briefly and catches the faint scent of caramel. It clings to you, sweet and warm, a stark contrast to the cold, metallic smell of the train station.

You’re talking about something—your day at work, maybe—but he’s not really listening. He’s too focused on keeping his distance.

Then, it happens.

A loud, unmistakable growl from his stomach.

The sound cuts through the quiet, echoing in the empty station.

You stop mid-sentence, blinking in surprise. Bucky clears his throat, his ears burning with embarrassment. He tries to appear nonchalant, but the redness creeping up his neck betrays him.

You stifle a giggle. “Looks like someone needs a snack.”

Bucky shoots you a glare, but there’s no heat in it. Just the begrudging realization that, for better or worse, you’ve become part of his routine.

You didn’t make a big deal of it—you simply reached into your bag and pulled something out. Holding it out to him, you offered, “Here, you can have this. We made too much in the kitchen today.”

Bucky glanced at the box in your hand. Before he could refuse, you added, “It’s monkey bread.” His gaze softened. It had been a long time since he’d had monkey bread. Hesitating for a moment, he finally took it. “Thank you.”

The sound of his voice surprised you—low and slightly raspy from exhaustion. It made you light up, a warm smile spreading across your face. “You’re welcome.”

The next evening, you boarded the train with a small container of cookies and handed it to him without a word. He didn’t say much, but the quiet kindness in your gesture spoke louder than words.

A few nights later, you offered him a neatly packaged serving of beef Wellington. “I can’t eat all this myself,” you said with a casual shrug. Bucky took it, feeling the warmth of the box seep into his cold hands. He wanted to say something but found himself at a loss for words, so he simply nodded, offering you a faint smile.

Then came fish and chips. “You’ll like this one,” you said, placing the box in his hands before settling into your seat. “It’s fresh.” Bucky chuckled softly, the sound almost foreign to him. He wasn’t used to this—someone thinking of him, sharing without expecting anything in return.

Day after day, you brought something new. Each time, he accepted it, and each time, he found himself looking forward to the brief exchange. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him.

“Why do you give me food every time we meet?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion as he studied you from across the train.

You shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “I just like sharing. Aren’t we train buddies?”

Your simple response caught him off guard. For a moment, Bucky was stunned. No ulterior motive, no hidden agenda. In your eyes, he was just a friend.

“I owe you,” he muttered, glancing away.

“It’s just extra food,” you said with a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

That was the longest conversation Bucky had with another person, aside from those at his job. He thought only silence could bring him peace, but he realized that having friends could bring him peace too.

Then one day, you weren’t there.

He convinced himself it didn’t matter. Maybe you found a better job. Good for you.

But the train rides felt emptier. No chatter about your coworkers. No light-hearted complaints about your boss. No extra food in hand, given with that easy smile.

Something didn’t feel right.

Bucky found himself standing in front of the five-star hotel where you worked. He recognized the logo from the packaging you used. After asking a kitchen staff member about you, he was met with a puzzled look.

“She’s on the night shift. I’ve never met her,” the staff member said, scratching his head. “But I can ask my manager.”

Bucky nodded. “Thank you.”

Minutes later, the staff member returned, his expression more serious.

“She quit two weeks ago,” he explained. “Apparently, some guy came in and caused a scene—flipped a table, yelled about debt or something. The next day, she quit.”

Bucky’s heart sank. His chest tightened, and breathing felt harder.

Debt?

All this time, he thought you were the bright, carefree soul who brought light into his monotonous life. But now, he realized—you were the one hurting. Hiding behind your kindness.

He swallowed hard. “Thank you… and I’m sorry for bothering you.”

The staff member gave him a sympathetic nod.

Bucky walked out of the hotel, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. I never even asked…

He clenched his fists. He didn’t know anything about you—not your struggles, not your pain. But one thing was clear: He needed to find you.

👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳

Bucky walked into his office during the morning shift—a time when he was rarely seen. Heads turned, confusion spreading among his coworkers as they whispered to each other. Bucky Barnes, the man who thrived in the shadows, was suddenly here in broad daylight.

“Is he… actually here in the morning?” one agent murmured.

“Maybe he couldn’t sleep,” another offered, but their eyes widened when they saw Bucky heading straight for the weapons locker.

The boss, a tall man with graying hair and a perpetual frown, stepped into the room just in time to see Bucky zipping up a weapon bag. His expression shifted from confusion to concern.

“Uhhh… Barnes, where are you going?” the boss asked, his hand resting on the doorframe as if blocking Bucky’s path.

Bucky didn’t pause. He slung the bag over his shoulder, his face unreadable. “Helping a buddy.”

The boss blinked. “Oh…” He nodded slowly, then frowned. “Wait. Who’s your buddy?”

“A train buddy,” Bucky said without missing a beat, securing the bag and striding past him.

The boss opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, watching Bucky disappear down the hall with a perplexed expression. “A train buddy?”

👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳👩‍🍳

The basement was cold and damp, the air thick with the stench of mold and oil. The dim light from a single flickering bulb cast long shadows across the concrete floor.

In the center of the room, you sat tied to a chair, your wrists chafed from the rough rope binding you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the group of gangsters lounging around, their faces hardened with cruelty.

One of them—a tall man with a scar running down his cheek—stood before you, arms crossed. “Your brother owes us a lot of money,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And guess what? We don’t care where it comes from. You’re gonna pay it.”

Your voice trembled as you shook your head. “I don’t have the money. I told you, I don’t—”

The scarred man sighed, rubbing his temples as if dealing with a stubborn child. “Put her in liquid cement,” he said, his tone casual, like he was ordering a drink. “Then throw her into the sea.”

Your blood ran cold. Panic surged through you, and you pulled against the ropes, your breaths coming in short gasps. “No. No! God, please, no! Help!”

The men laughed, their footsteps echoing as they approached.

Then—darkness.

The flickering light went out, plunging the basement into complete blackness.

“What the hell?” one of the gangsters muttered.

Suddenly, the sound of a struggle erupted—thuds, grunts, the sharp crack of bones breaking. One by one, the gangsters fell. Some screamed in pain; others were silenced before they could make a sound.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your body trembling as the chaos unfolded around you. What’s happening?

Then—silence.

A familiar voice cut through the darkness, calm and steady. “You’re safe. Open your eyes.”

Your eyes flew open, heart racing. You blinked, adjusting to the faint light as the basement door creaked open, spilling in a sliver of light from the stairwell.

Standing in front of you, weapon in hand, was Bucky. His dark hair fell into his eyes, his jaw clenched in determination.

Your breath hitched. “Bucky?”

He moved quickly, crouching in front of you and cutting the ropes that bound your wrists and ankles. His hands were steady, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—concern.

As the ropes fell away, you flexed your stiff wrists, the lingering ache a reminder of how close you had come to disaster. “Why are you here? How did you find me?”

“Aren’t we train buddies?” he asked, his voice low and steady as if the answer mattered more than he let on.

You blinked, your chest tightening with a mix of relief and gratitude. Despite the chaos, despite the fear, here he was—your train buddy. Slowly, you nodded, a small, trembling smile forming on your lips.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We are.”

Join the taglist 💖💖💖

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@barnesxstan

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@mrs-maximoff-kenner

@lostinspace33

@read-just-cant

@hzdhrtss

@murnsondock

@hi172826

[mssorceressupreme]

Working Late | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: you got a new job at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and you’ve developed a strong attraction to one of your new bosses.

Warnings: boss/employee, age gap (ish), making out, shy reader (not a warning lol but yk). Actually it's kind of a sweet fluffy-ish one, might make a pt 2. with more smut tho idk

———

It all started with butterbeer. Ginny Weasley and you had decided to meet at The Three Broomsticks for a long-overdue catch-up. The amber liquid foamed in your mugs as you laughed about school, gossiped about classmates, and vented about our worries. But your laughter faltered as you stirred my butterbeer idly.

"I just don’t know what I’m going to do after Hogwarts," You confessed, keeping your gaze fixed on the swirling foam. "Everyone seems to have their plans lined up, and I’m… stuck. No job, no prospects, nothing meaningful."

Ginny cocked her head, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "You know, my brothers could use some extra help at their shop. You’ve heard of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, right?"

Your heart skipped. Of course, you’d heard of it. And of Fred.

"I don’t know your brothers that well," You mumbled, cheeks warming. Ginny waved you off, grinning.

"Doesn’t matter. I reckon they’ll like you, and I’ll put in a good word."

Unbeknownst to her, the mention of Fred sent your heart into overdrive. He was everything you weren’t—loud, confident, and irresistibly charming, well you had your own charms but his was just effortless. Not to mention your stupid infatuation with him.

You barely spoke to the twins at school, your shyness building a wall you were too scared to scale. Besides it kept you safe, from unwanted conversations, judgement and meaningless social interactions.

Still, Ginny’s determination left you little room to argue.

“Uh sure, thanks Gin.” You forced a smile, unsure of whether seeing Fred, let alone being in the same compound as him would help with your infatuation. This forced proximity might be the end for you.

It’s time to let go of him and move on, you mentally slapped yourself. Besides, he was a couple of years older than you, no way he’d go for you right?

———

The following week, you stood outside the shop at 8 a.m., shivering slightly despite the warmth of the sun.

To your surprise you actually got the job, Ginny managed to secure you a position. And after a quick interview with George last week, you found yourself rewarded the position of becoming an official employee of the store.

Great, you had misread the opening time—Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes didn’t open until 9. Just as you debated whether to leave and return later, a deep, groggy voice startled you.

"You’re early."

You spun around to find Fred Weasley standing behind you. He was taller than you remembered, his fiery hair slightly tousled, his jaw more defined. His eyes, sharp and glinting with curiosity, locked onto yours, and your stomach flipped.

"I, uh, thought you opened at eight," You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Fred smirked, his voice still husky from sleep. "Well, early bird gets the worms. Come on in, I can give you a quick tour."

He unlocked the door, holding it open for me. "Ladies first."

———

Inside, Fred gave you a whirlwind tour, his tone surprisingly serious as he explained the tasks. Stocking shelves, organising merchandise, assisting customers—it all seemed simple enough until we began working side by side.

"Here, let me show you," Fred said, reaching over your to grab a box from the top shelf. His arm brushed yours, sending a wave of excitement through your body.

The proximity was electrifying, and you found focus wavering. “These are our latest addition, love potions. We have yet to stock them on the display there,” He leaned in closer to you, pointing to the pink display near the entrance, “See that one, the pink stand there.”

“Do we get to sample one of the potions?” You teased, wanting to ease the tension.

He paused, turning to you, “Have someone on your mind for these eh?”

Your eyes grew wide, “Oh no no, no one at all, just wondering.” You forced a smile, mentally face palming yourself.

He smirked, then continued explaining to which you nodded slowly, listening attentively to everything he instructed.

“George was supposed to help bring these boxes up to my office but since he’s not here yet, ‘spose you could help bring them up.” Fred gestured to some boxes by the door, newly delivered packages.

“Yes sir.” You replied hastily, making your way to the boxes.

“Fred.” He chuckled softly, “Just Fred would do.”

One by one, you carried what seemed like never ending inventory into his office upstairs for him to stock check them, making sure the quality was up to par.

Finally, it was the last box’s turn to be brought up, as you were carefully walking up the stairs, the entrance swung open and George ran in, "Oi Fred, Ginny said Y/N would be starting today, have you showed her-"

Upon hearing your name, you whipped your head around, missing a step in the process, and tripping right outside Fred's office. The box fell on the ground, and out spewed the items, clinking and clanking on the floor. It was some mini metal boxes with assorted treats inside of them. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!"

The items scattered across the floor, and you crouched down hastily, picking them up one by one. Fred was in his office, rushing to your aid as soon as he heard the noise.

"Accidents happen all the time, don’t worry about it," Fred said, kneeling to help. Upon picking the items up, your hands touched, grazing each other softly and you froze.

His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. The air thickened with something unspoken, something undeniable, before a loud voice interrupted you. "Oh hey guys, sorry I was late, was caught finding the keys to me' office." George apologised, he saw the two of you kneeling on the ground, giving Fred a quick glance before darting towards you.

"Y/N! We meet again, I trust Freddie has shown you around. Come on down when you're done yeah, the shop's opening soon." George instructed before heading downstairs.

As the day wore on, you noticed whispers among some customers—girls your age, glaring enviously.

"She only got the job because she’s Ginny’s friend," one of them muttered.

"Why is she the only employee? If I had known, I would've applied too...obviously for George." The other one giggled.

"Whatever, she's not even that pretty, they probably hired her out of pity."

Fred happened to overhear their conversations, and his eyes shot daggers at the girls, but forced himself to remain calm, they were after all his customers. "Actually," he interjected smoothly, "she’s here because she’s a hard worker and great at what she does."

His words left you stunned. Had he been paying that much attention to you? You pretended to be busy with another task, acting as though you hadn't heard a word they said.

A few hours passed and boy, you were already tired, legs exhuasted from standing all day and arms from all the reaching, stocking, grabbing and the likes. How on earth did the twins manage to do this everyday, you wondered.

While restocking on a ladder, a mischievous kid aimed a Decoy Detonator at you, hoping to get trial some pranks with the samples provided.

The explosion erupted in your face, colourful sparkling fireworks crackling around you, causing you to loose your balance, "Merlin!" You panicked as you slipped, falling off the ladder. Before you could hit the ground, you felt a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

His familiar scent filled you, it was him. Fred.

You gasped, gripping his forearms. He pulled you upright, his hold lingering for a moment too long.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, but your pounding heart felt like it would bust right out of you at the rate it was beating.

Once he made sure you were alright, you carried on. Though the rest of the day was a bit dull as Fred was in his office doing paperwork, whilst George stayed downstairs entertaining the customers.

You could't help but think back to the situation moments before, the way he held you, his scent, his voice, Merlin this was not helping your crush at all. And it did not help that he looked so handsome in that all black suit he was wearing, ugh your mind began to wonder, but that did not hold you back from delivering great customer service.

"Thanks Y/N, have a good day!" A kid waved at you before leaving, and you waved back grinning.

"Enjoy your new gizmo!" You smiled with awe, among the devils, there were also the sweetest most angel-like children you came across in the store.

The next few days flew by, you quickly adjusted to working at the shop, your kind demeanour welcomed guests and made them feel right at home.

You barely saw Fred as he was buried in work, constantly in his office, but you learnt to live with it. After all, you were here to gain experience, not date your boss.

One particular night, you stayed back in the stockroom as there had been a surplus of inventory, and since you had no plans, you decided to help out as much as you could, sorting out new arrivals for the next week.

"Working late?" a familiar voice asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You shrugged, smiling. "Just wanted to get ahead."

He frowned slightly, feeling guilty that you had been overworking yourself. "How bout a reward then, say, dinner?"

"Dinner?" Your heart soared, but his next words tempered it.

"Just a casual, y'know thank you dinner."

Still, you agreed. ___

You walked to The Three Broomsticks together, you felt a bit upset that he kept a good distance from you, though he thought it was respectful, a part of you wished he stood closer.

At the restaurant, he pulled out your chair, playfully grinning, "M'lady." He teased.

"And what would the lovely couple like to have for dinner tonight?" The waiter asked and, as you were about to deny that you were a couple, Fred played it off and went with it.

"I'll have the steak and chips, and she'll have the fish and chips."

"Amazing, it'll take 10-15 minutes, have a lovely evening guys. What a beautiful couple you two make." The waiter complimented, before taking our menu's off us.

"You did not." You chuckled with disbelief.

"Did what?" Fred defended himself, raising his hands.

"Why didn't you say we weren't a couple." You laughed, shaking your head.

"And embarrass the poor lad? Not a chance, besides, what's wrong with that." He shrugged nonchalantly at the last bit, and you bit back a smile.

After dinner, Fred insisted he walk you home for safety reasons, "Can't have my best employee not getting home safely." He insisted.

"I'm your only employee." You retort, laughing softly.

"And the best one at that." He added.

The moment you reached home, he paused outside your door. For a moment, his gaze dipped to your lips, and you held your breath. Could this be it, the moment you waited for.

But he stepped back, murmuring, "Goodnight." Flashing a small smile before he headed home once you were inside.

---

The next day, you wore a skirt to work, wanting to feel more free, plus it was way too hot to be wearing jeans or pants. But of course, there was the underlying reason of wanting to catch a certain someone's attention.

As you arrive, George greeted you, his playful cheerful self did not go unnoticed. Fred however was quieter, sterner, and noticeably distracted. He brushed past you more often, his touches lingering but you shrugged it off, thinking you were imagining things.

"Hey Y/N, Fred's asking for you, he's up in his office." George informed you, while you were rearranging one of the messy shelves, you nodded and made your way to Fred.

You found him alone in his office, staring out the window.

"Fred?" You knocked softly.

He turned, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Shut the door."

You obeyed, suddenly nervous.

"Why are you wearing a skirt?"

"I thought it would be appropriate, given how incredibly scorching today's weather is." You replied, truthfully.

"Merlin, you don't know what you've been doing to me as of late." Fred sat on one of the leather couches in his office, rubbing his temples as he did so.

"I'm sorry, I can go change if you want-"

"No. It looks good on you, come here." He ordered, and you slowly made your way towards the couch where he sat, standing in front of him. "Bloody hell, you don't know do ya?" He eyed you up and down, his gaze exploring your figure.

"I’ve been trying to ignore this," he continued, "But I can’t..."

"Ignore what?" You whispered, your pulse racing.

"You."

His confession hung in the air, heavy and intoxicating.

"Fred, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you." You finally confessed. "Ever since Hogwarts...I just...figured I wasn't your type."

"You think I haven't noticed you before? Everytime you came to the Burrow, seeing you in the halls, always hanging with my sister. The wrong Weasley, dare I say. You have no idea how much I wanted to come in and sweep you off your feet. But you know, you, always into your books, always in your own world, I just-...and now seeing you again, Merlin, it's like you've got me wrapped around your finger again."

You responded by closing the distance, sitting on his lap, straddling him which earned a groan from him. Immediately, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was fiery, desperate, and everything you'd dreamed of.

You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands gripped your waist. His arousal was growing beneath you and you could feel yourself getting soaked just from this, all that pent up tension was getting released.

"I’ve wanted this for so long," You admitted breathlessly.

He smiled, his forehead resting against yours. "Me too love."

For the first time, the tension between you broke, replaced by something infinitely sweeter. ___ A/N: Might do a part 2, with more smut? Or how it's like at WWW now that they've established they like each other? Not sure yet hehe

(Update: check out Pt 2 here!! 🥰 )

[lanawinterscigarettes]

More Important (Greg House x gn reader x James Wilson)

Summary: you not feeling well is far more important than work in your boyfriends' eyes

Warnings: the reader is sick/doesn't feel good but it isn't specified the reason why so it's pretty much up for interpretation, House and Wilson are both loving and worried boyfriends, kind of hurt/comfort given the themes, brief and mild swearing, they/them pronouns are used to refer to the reader one (1) time in a gender neutral manner

A/N: I felt awful when I woke up the other day and when I went back to sleep I had a dream with House and Wilson that ended up inspiring this fic

When you woke up that morning, every muscle in your body ached as if someone had dropped a sack of bricks on you while you slept. As much as you wanted to just stay in bed, you unfortunately had to get up to use the bathroom.

House was still asleep next to you, letting out the occasional peaceful snore despite the time indicating he'd be late for work if he didn't wake up soon. Not that he cared.

Wilson was already up and ready, from what you could tell. That assumption was later confirmed when you stumbled to the bathroom, the sight before you making it seem as though your boyfriend was being serenaded by the sound of the blow dryer as he fixed his hair.

"Are you almost done? I need the bathroom," you mumbled groggily, leaning up against the side of the doorframe while you waited for him to finish.

"Well, good morning to you, too," He responded in a voice that was far too chipper for your taste given how early it was. "And yeah, almost." He shut off the blow dryer and turned to face you, his big brown eyes studying you with a slight look of concern. Being a doctor, of course he could recognize when something was physically wrong.

"Are you okay?" He tentatively asked, trying to approach the subject in a delicate manner. After all the time he'd spent with House he knew not everyone wanted to talk about their feelings or even admit when something was wrong.

"Yeah, 'm fine. Jus' have a slight headache." Technically it wasn't a full lie, as your head did hurt, but you were greatly underexaggerating the pain level in hopes he wouldn't worry.

Big mistake. Almost as soon as you shut the bathroom door did Wilson turn and head towards the bedroom with the full intent of waking up your other boyfriend.

By the time you were done, both House and Wilson were standing close together, presumably discussing your supposed symptoms, even if you couldn't hear what they were saying.

"I know you guys are talking about me," you grumbled out the accusation while shuffling back over to the bed. Wilson looked a bit guilty to be talking about something involving you behind your back, but House just seemed amused you still had the energy required to dish out snark despite not feeling good.

"Whatever led you to that conclusion?" House asked rhetorically. "We very well could've been discussing what traffic will be like on the way in to work, or our favorite romantic movies." At that, Wilson rolled his eyes in annoyance. House ignored him, finishing with, "Not everything is about you, y'know."

"Don't play dumb with me," was the only thing you could manage to get out as a response given how tired you were. Collapsing onto the bed, you curled under the covers in hopes that maybe all you needed was a couple hours of extra sleep.

Too exhausted for your brain to work properly, you only picked up bits and pieces of their conversation. From what you could tell, they were trying to decide whether or not they should stay home from work to look after you, and if so who it should be out of the two of them.

"I'll stay here with them. Just tell Cuddy I can't come in today because of a medical emergency," House offered while glancing over at your blanket clad form. As much as he acted like he didn't care, he didn't enjoy seeing you in pain, even if it was over something small.

"Are you sure?" Wilson questioned, just to double check in case he wanted to change his mind.

House nodded his head to confirm, uttering "yeah, I'm sure" in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You heard the sound of footsteps approaching, feeling as Wilson leaned down to press a kiss to your face, murmuring the words "I have to go to work, but I'll be back soon". You just nodded, too weak to say anything more than a quiet "love you".

After he left, House made his way back over to the bed, gently nudging what he assumed to be your leg with his cane. "Move over," he commanded in his usual gruff manner that led little room for argument.

Obliging, you shifted over on the bed, giving him the space to lay down in his normal spot. "Sorry."

He let out a sigh as he got on the bed, feeling a little bad he was so rude given just how pathetic you looked. "It's fine."

The two of you were quiet for a moment before you spoke up again, your voice sounding a little hoarse. "I'm sorry you got stuck here with me. I'm sure you'd rather be doing anything else other than this."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, hearing you say that hurt his heart a little. Then again, he couldn't necessarily blame you for thinking that. "Not true. Why would I want to be in a hospital full of sick people I don't even like when I could be with only one sick person I can at least tolerate?"

You let out a snort of laughter, fully recognizing the jest in his tone. He obviously cared, the grumpy bastard, even if he didn't show it very often.

He felt accomplished when he heard your laugh, continuing in a softer and more genuine tone. "Besides, some things are more important, anyway."

"Mhm." Humming softly in agreement, you moved closer to him on the bed until your head was resting against his shoulder, making sure to give him the space to get up and stretch his leg if he needed to later on. "I love you."

A faint smile formed on his face at your words, one of his arms reaching over to wrap around you protectively. "I know." It was his own way of showing his love for you without having to say the words.

Feeling comfortable and safe in his arms, you must've dozed off because the next thing you remembered was being woken up by the sound of a door opening and shutting.

"Could you be any louder?" House's irritated voice rang out through your ears, the sound not being entirely unpleasant even if it did manage to wake you up more.

"Sorry," you heard Wilson apologize in a hushed tone. There's no way it was evening already, which meant he must've gotten off work early.

"What are you doing back here?" You called out, your voice sounding tired yet curious. "You're supposed to still be at work."

"I couldn't stay knowing you were home sick," he responded as he slipped under the covers next to you, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothes first.

"Oh, sure, just forget all about me," House complained in mock offense, something that Wilson chose to outrightly ignore.

"But the hospital- I mean, you're the head of oncology, you can't just-"

"Some things are more important," Wilson gently cut off your worries, his hand reaching out to rest on top of yours.

"Hm, that sounds familiar," you muttered while giving House a look that said 'I know you two have been talking about me again'. He looked back as if he had no clue what your deal was.

"Go back to sleep, honey. We'll both still be here when you wake back up." It was hard to ignore the command of the oncologist next to you, especially when he spoke in such a low and soothing way.

"Okay," you agreed without a fight, snuggling comfortably into the arms of your two boyfriends as you closed your eyes and allowed sleep to overtake you yet again, starting to feel a lot better already.

End notes: I feel like I'm not very good at writing fics with poly couples which is a damn shame because I really love doing it </3

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @pigeonmama

[magical-reid]

The rings we keep

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!FBI!Reader

Genre: fluff

Content warnings: none?

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: An FBI agent unexpectedly marries Spencer Reid in a Las Vegas hospital to fulfill his mother's wishes, leading to a complicated relationship built on convenience. As they work together on a dangerous murder case, their bond deepens, and Spencer's quiet heroism reveals that their accidental marriage might hold the potential for real love.

The badge clipped to your belt was as much a part of you as the Glock strapped to your hip. Being an FBI agent meant long hours, endless yellow tape, and the occasional brush with danger that left you rattled for days. But you loved it. You thrived in the chaos, the adrenaline, the chance to make a difference.

Still, nothing could have prepared you for the chaos of being married to Spencer Reid.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t kind or brilliant—he was both, in spades. Spencer was a walking encyclopedia with a heart that quietly held more compassion than most people knew. You hadn’t planned on marrying him, though, in fact, neither of you had planned on marrying anyone.

It had started two months ago, in a Las Vegas hospital room. Spencer’s mother, Diana, had been lucid that day—something you’d learned was both a gift and a curse. She had smiled at you as you sat next to Spencer, the three of you chatting about books, the weather, and old stories from her youth.

“You’re so good to him,” Diana had said suddenly, fixing her gaze on you.

You’d looked up, confused.

“She is,” Spencer had replied, his voice soft as he squeezed her hand.

“Marry her,” Diana had said, her words clear and direct. “Spencer, I want to see you happy. And I want to see you married before you have to leave.”

Leave. It had been a terrible misunderstanding, her mind tangling the threads of the past and present. But the plea in her voice had been real, and Spencer hadn’t been able to bear telling her no. He’d looked at you, something fragile and desperate in his eyes, and before you knew it, you’d agreed.

The walk-in chapel had been surreal. There was no big dress, no flowers—just a quick exchange of vows, a ring from a pawn shop, and Diana’s tearful smile as she watched from her seat. The moment had been oddly sweet, almost sacred.

And then the moment had passed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d both agreed to annul it later, but life got in the way. Between your cases and his, you barely had time to sleep, let alone complete the paperwork. Eventually, Spencer had suggested staying married, if only for the convenience.

“It’s easier,” he’d reasoned. “Legally, I mean. Besides, it’s not like it changes anything.”

And for two months, it hadn’t.

Today, though, felt different.

The case you were working on had taken a grim turn, and your unit chief had decided to call in the BAU. You hadn’t protested—it was a particularly brutal series of murders, and their expertise was invaluable. But when you stepped into the police station that morning and saw Penelope Garcia’s face light up like Christmas, you knew she’d snooped.

“Mrs. Reid!” she chirped, her voice barely contained.

You froze mid-step, narrowing your eyes at her. “Not here,” you hissed under your breath.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she whispered conspiratorially, winking. “My lips are sealed… mostly.”

Before you could respond, your unit chief waved you into the conference room. The BAU was already seated, their attention split between a whiteboard covered in crime scene photos and a map dotted with pins.

Spencer was there, of course, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He didn’t look up when you entered, but his presence was enough to send a twinge of nervous energy through you.

Your unit chief cleared his throat. “Agent Reid, thanks for joining us. BAU, this is Agent Y/N Reid—she’s with our unit and will be helping coordinate the case on our end.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. You saw Emily Prentiss glance at Spencer, her brow raised in mild amusement. Derek Morgan’s smirk was almost immediate, while JJ covered her mouth, clearly trying to hide her surprise.

“Reid?” Derek repeated his grin widening.

“Y/N Reid,” you said firmly, emphasizing your first name. “Yes. We’re married. No, it’s not relevant to the case.”

Penelope let out an audible squeal from the corner of the room, and you shot her a warning glare.

“It’s not relevant,” Spencer agreed, his voice calm but his ears slightly pink. “Can we move on?”

Derek chuckled but relented, turning his attention back to the board. “Alright, let’s get to it.”

The case was grim—a string of murders targeting young women who all bore a striking resemblance to one another. Blond hair, blue eyes, petite builds. They’d been abducted, held for days, then left posed in public spaces. The unsub was meticulous, methodical, and growing more confident with each kill.

By midday, the conference room was a storm of theories and strategies. Your units worked well together, bouncing ideas off one another as new leads emerged. But despite the progress, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

It wasn’t the unsub—though God knew you’d had stalkers in your line of work. No, this was different.

You looked up from your notes and caught Spencer’s gaze. He quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the map.

The weight in your chest grew heavier.

Spencer was your husband. Legally, at least. But in every other way, he was your coworker. He was brilliant and kind and occasionally maddening, but you didn’t know how to be his wife. Not really.

“Y/N?”

JJ’s voice broke through your thoughts. You blinked, realizing everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, you and Reid should interview the victim’s roommate together. She might be more comfortable with a familiar face,” JJ said, glancing between you and Spencer.

You hesitated, but Spencer nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. “We’ll take my car.”

The drive was awkward.

Spencer fidgeted with the radio, flipping through stations before settling on classical. You stared out the window, trying to ignore the growing tension between you.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said finally.

“So have you.”

He sighed, glancing at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Are you… okay? With everyone knowing, I mean.”

You frowned. “It’s not like we planned this, Spencer. Besides, it was bound to come out eventually.”

“I know. But I don’t want it to make things harder for you.”

You softened at his words. Despite his sometimes awkward demeanor, Spencer had a way of saying the right thing when it mattered most.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Really.”

He nodded, though he didn’t look convinced.

The interview went smoothly, though it yielded little new information. The roommate was distraught, her hands trembling as she recounted the last time she’d seen the victim. You kept your tone gentle, and your questions open-ended, but the answers all led to the same dead ends.

When you returned to the station, the atmosphere had shifted. Penelope was typing furiously at her laptop, muttering under her breath about search parameters. Emily and Derek were deep in conversation, while Hotch stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed.

“We have a lead,” he announced as you and Spencer entered. “The unsub’s car was spotted near a bus station downtown. Surveillance footage shows him leaving the scene shortly after the last victim was found.”

He gestured to the screen, where a grainy image of a man in a baseball cap appeared. His face was partially obscured, but something about his posture sent a chill down your spine.

“The station is less than a mile from here,” Hotch continued. “We need to move quickly.”

Your team sprang into action, splitting into smaller groups to cover more ground. Spencer was assigned to the tech team with Penelope, while you were paired with Emily and Derek to canvass the area.

As you searched the bus station, your instincts prickled. Something about the unsub felt personal—too calculated, too deliberate. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching, waiting.

When your phone buzzed with a text from Spencer, your heart skipped a beat.

Be careful.

You texted back a quick You too before slipping the phone into your pocket.

Hours later, the unsub made his move.

It happened fast—too fast. You were alone, having split off from Emily and Derek to follow a potential lead. The unsub cornered you in an alley, his knife glinting in the dim light.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your blood ran cold. He knew your name.

“FBI,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you drew your weapon. “Drop the knife.”

He didn’t. Instead, he smiled—a slow, deliberate smile that made your stomach churn.

“You’re just like her,” he murmured. “So pretty. So perfect.”

Before you could respond, footsteps thundered behind you. The unsub’s smile faltered, and he turned to run, but not before Spencer tackled him to the ground.

The knife clattered to the pavement as Spencer wrestled him into submission. You moved quickly, cuffing the unsub as Spencer caught his breath.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.

You nodded, though your hands were shaking. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

He offered a small smile, but his eyes lingered on you, searching for any sign of injury.

Back at the station, the unsub’s confession came easily. He’d been stalking his victims for months, studying their routines, their habits. He’d seen you on the news once, years ago, and decided you were his ideal type.

The realization made your skin crawl.

“You saved her life, pretty boy,” Derek said, clapping Spencer on the shoulder. “That’s what husbands are for, right?”

Spencer flushed, but his smile was genuine.

Later, as you packed up to leave, Spencer lingered by your side.

“You didn’t have to come after me,” you said softly.

“Yes, I did,” he replied without hesitation.

For the first time since your wedding day, you felt the weight of the ring on your finger. Maybe this marriage wasn’t as complicated as you thought.

Maybe, just maybe, it was exactly where you were meant to be.

Part 2

[venomhoundfanworks]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

LINKS AND FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

My Masterlist for my Other Work: >>HERE<<

First part to this post, Sleeping Habits is: >>HERE<<

AO3 Archive Link: >>HERE<<

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @/antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @/voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @/redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[paulmescalsbiceps]

heeey can ask for a roommate James in which the air conditioning ends up going out and it's unbearable hot and the reader ends up going to sleep in James' room (which in the end doesn't solve her problem because James is a human heater that gets stuck with him) - 🍓

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ☆.｡.:* roommate!jamespotter x reader wc: 1k

The heat is unbearable. The late July warmth is flooding your small apartment, only managing to be endurable with the work of a shitty floor fan, stolen from James room, now placed in front of your couch. Your luck ran out this morning when the air-con decided to terminate itself on the hottest day of the year. Of course.

You nurse a cold bottle of water head laid back against the pile of pillows resting on the couch. You hear the familiar click of a lock but don’t bother to look up, the movement alone could make you sweat in this weather. “Hey” James said, voice cheery as he took in your exhausted figure laid sprawled out on the couch. 

“Air-con’s still broken, won’t be fixed till Monday” You groaned, still not moving. The thought of even just a weekend stuck without it is too much to bare. “Well I brought you dumplings if that makes it any better?” James confesses placing the plastic bag of takeaway containers on the bench before pulling off his gym bag and throwing it towards the door. 

At that you pull your sweaty body off the sticky leather and make your way to the kitchen. You take in James' figure standing tall before you. Beads of sweat fall from his curls, either from the heat or the gym. Both probably. Heat was kind to James, unlike others. Summer made his skin turn tan and glowy adding to his already god-like presence. Sweat never made him smell bad, instead it made his enticing scent even more notable making it hard to be around him. Just like now.

James serves himself a hefty portion from each container, still leaving enough for you. You take your serve and move to sit on the couch next to him. God, just sitting next to him has your skin rising in temperature even more than before. Your cheeks feel flushed as you try to distract yourself with the meal in front of you. 

You can feel his hazel eyes examining you closely. “You okay lovey?”. Ugh, that stupid nickname that always has you melting at the knees. “Yeah, sorry James. It’s just the heat is making my brain all fuzzy” You sputter out. “I guess I’ll just have to go to bed early.” You joke with a nervous laugh. 

“Wanna take the fan tonight?” He offers, spooning the last mouthful from his plate into his mouth. “No no it’s fine” brushing off his words as you take his plate along with yours and flee to the kitchen to busy yourself with washing up.

-

The evening winds bring the heat down from unbearable to unfavourable. Even in your thinnest pyjamas with the sheets brushed off and away from yourself, it still feels like you're sleeping in an oven. You should have just taken that fan. You make a mental note to go out and buy one tomorrow, there's no way you can survive another night like this. 

James walks past your door, a maroon towel wrapped securely around his trained waist. “You going to bed?” he asks, holding another, smaller,  towel in his hand to scrunch at his damp curls. “Trying too, might end up in a puddle by the morning” You croak. Warm eyes take in your frame, tracing your hips before making their way back to your flushed face. “If you get hot you're always welcome to come to my room, there's plenty of space in my bed.” James says almost nervously, like he was anxious for your reaction to such a bold offer.

The thought of James beautifully bronzing skin against your back is enticing. But the thought of not being able to control your thoughts with him asleep beside you is less ideal. “Thank James” You reply, offering him a polite smile. “Goodnight”. 

"Goodnight, love” He speaks with a wink, usual demeanour back, before turning away and leaving you with flushed cheeks and weak knees.

-

Lifting your head you peer at the alarm clock resting on your side table. 3 am. Your brain is bone-tired and exhausted. You’ve been internally battling yourself on forfeiting to James' offer and just slipping under his sheets. Instead, you wander to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water to occupy your thoughts.

Setting your cup down by the dishwasher you decide to just bite the bullet. Feet softly padding on the floor, you are met with the front of James door. Knocking softly on the hardwood, you twist the knob open and peek inside. There lay James fast asleep, hair spread across his pillow and chest very much bare.

He’s clad in nothing but his boxers, arms clinging to the pillow in front of him. You step towards his bed, taking the pillow carefully from between his arms and slip in the space left behind. His sheets are significantly cooler than yours, thanks to the fan facing directly where you now lay. Resting your head on the pillow, your body finally feels as if it can sleep.

Seconds later, muscular arms wrap around your torso pulling you flush to a warm chest. James' warm chest. His hand reaches down to hold onto your lower stomach, digging into the fat, not letting go. His body was like a human furnace, one you can’t pull away from either due to his iron grip on your waist. 

But maybe it’s a sacrifice worth taking. His heat pulls you to sleep as you breathe in his delicious scent, eyes falling shut and breath falling soft as you sink deeper and deeper…

[atsumutu]

it’s your scream that wakes him up. a shrill cry that has zoro jerking upright and latching onto the hilt of his swords. 

it takes him barely a minute to get to you, calling out your name as he enters your shared room where he finds you wide eyed and backed into a corner.

“what’s wrong?”

a quick scan of the room comes up empty for intruders so he returns his attention to you, closing the distance between you two with a few steps. 

there were intruders. just not the human kind. 

“c-cockroach!” you cry, pointing towards the corner of the room where sure enough, there’s a cockroach scuttering past. 

zoro turns to you, unimpressed. it’s a tiny thing that hardly called for this level of reaction. it most definitely didn’t warrant cutting his mid afternoon nap short. 

“seriously? i thought you were dying.” sleep still clings to his voice making it more rough than usual. 

your frenzied eyes move back and forth from the cockroach to the swordsman. “please zoro, if you love me you’ll-“ a squeal cuts off your pleading when another one decides to make an appearance. with nowhere left to run, you just push yourself further into the corner, shutting your eyes. 

before your scream comes to an end, zoro’s taken care of the situation, disposing off the offending creatures before returning to you. 

“god, such a crybaby.” he grumbles, pulling you towards him. a warm palm settles on your back, rubbing up and down between your shoulder blades. “it’s gone now, okay? it’s dead.” 

you peer at zoro through your lashes. “both of them?”

“yes, both of them.”

although his words comfort you, you seek further solace in his embrace, grabbing the fabric of his t shirt and nestling into his chest as he continues running up and down your back. 

a few seconds pass before zoro pulls back, remembering something. “i thought you were going out?” he asks, recalling the lively chatter over breakfast as the straw hats made plans to explore the port town they were docked in for the next few days. 

“I decided to stay in, thought you might appreciate some company.” you grin, mood perking up now that the cockroaches were dealt with. 

zoro rolls his eyes, sassy man that he is, and you suddenly find yourself thrown over his shoulder. 

“what i would appreciate is going back to my nap.” he huffs, making his way towards your shared bed. 

giggling, you give his firm bottom a few pats. “of course, my hero deserves some rest.”

zoro tolerates it all with a smirk playing on his lips, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze. when he reaches the end of the bed, he drops you onto the mattress, chuckling mildly at the disgruntled noise you make. he makes quick work of removing his swords, resting them on their usual spot against the bedside table, before joining you. 

it’s only when you’re tucked into zoro’s side that you pipe up again, lifting yourself to rest on your elbows, feeling playful. “zoro?”

he can already tell this isn't about to be a normal conversation just from the mirth dancing on your lips but he indulges you anyways.

“hm?”

“would you kill all the cockroaches in the world for me?”

zoro snorts at your absurd question. “that’s ridiculous.” he scoffs, fixing an arm behind his head and using the other to have you lie on his chest before answering, only because he knows how this goes with you. “yes, i would.” 

he’s rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips and the melody of your laughter. its enough to fill his entire body with warmth. 

half an hour and several questions later, sleep still calls to him but his smile remains, content to humour you until your words begin to jumble into one and your breathing evens out into a familiar rhythm, convinced he could do this for an eternity with you.

[wordsarelife]

—i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: jess mariano x fem!doose!reader

summary: jess got into another fight and you're about to clean his wounds, but he has other plans, tired of always answering your questions

warnings: kissing, making out, sexual remarks, allusions to sex

note: this was so fun to write and my first jess mariano fic, so please be gentle guys!!

“you never fail to amaze me, jess mariano“ you huffed, arms crossed as your eyes fell on the boy sitting on the curb in front of the supermarket. shadows were casted over his cheeks and he looked less than happy to see you.

"it isn't what it looks like" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze, although that was kind of hard, considering the outfit you were wearing.

your brushed your skirt to the side, before you sat down beside him. "well, it looks like you got beaten up"

"you should see the other guy" jess chuckled.

you sighed, not amused by the joke, as you softly touched his cheek.

"ow!" jess pulled his head back, trying to free it from your hands, but you were relentless, turning his chin in all possible directions to get a good look at his injuries.

"we're gonna have to clean them if you don't want them to get infected"

"i don't care about that" jess shrugged and took out a cigarette from a pocket of his jacket.

"yeah, i know tough guy". you quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth before he was able to light it. "but i do"

"what the fuck, y/n?" jess exclaimed annoyed.

you left his words unanswered as you stood up from the cold concrete and held a hand in his direction to help him up. "come on, now. we're not dating, because i care so little about you, are we?"

jess rolled his eyes, before he followed you, of course ignoring your helping hand in the process.

you laughed at his tough act as he sent you a dark look, not finding anything about this remotely funny. he knew that this was one of your usual tactics to get him to talk. you would act understanding and worried about his injuries before he would be caught in a room alone with you, with no way to escape, having to explain every little detail about the fight.

well, tonight he decided, you were going to be caught in a room with him.

a smug smile slipped onto jess' features as he followed you up the stairs. you turned around and pushed a finger against your mouth, before you took out your keys and unlocked the door.

"grandpa is sleeping" you muttered, opening the door wide enough for jess to walk through, but not wide enough to reach the creaking sound.

jess and you had met the year before at the supermarket, where you had watched him buy a ridiculous amount of industrial glue, while he was busy watching rory and dean talk.

you had guessed that he had been doing that to bother them and while rory was a friend of yours, you had to admit that it had been a little funny.

unbeknownst to you, jess had forgotten everything about rory, once his eyes fell on you behind the counter.

"are you working on the worlds longest scrapbook or are you just very passionate about glue?"

"huh?" jess had been so stunned by what you said that he lost his usual cool demeanor and found himself at a temporary loss for words. he couldn't remember a situation in which he had not been able to reply with a witty joke.

"want me to repeat that?" you asked amused as you pulled the last bottle of glue over the scanner.

"no-uh" he shook his head "i'm jess, luke's nephew"

"oh" you smiled, a sign of recognition in your eyes "that's you!"

"and you are?" he held the ten dollar note in your direction.

you took the money, taking out his change in the process. "i'm y/n, taylor doose's—"

you were interrupted when the aforementioned man stepped next to you, a frown on his face at the sight of jess. "i'm her grandfather" he finished for you. "and you're gonna stay far away from her, you hear me, mariano?" he pressed.

"grandpa!" you scolded and jess was surprised at the sudden shame that entered taylor doose's face. it seemed like he really gave a damn about your opinion, unlike he did with anyone else in this town.

"well, i'm gonna check on miss patty and her plums" taylor excused quickly and walked away, before you could question him further.

"please don't mind him" you told jess, amusement evident on your lips "i just got back and he's been a little on edge without me here"

"where have you been?" jess asked, intrigued to hear more about the mysterious and pretty girl in front of him.

"my dad's" you replied with an uneasy smile. he recognized the expression on your face, had he always worn it himself when someone had asked him about his parents.

he decided not to stir the pot any more. "well, i'll see you around, doose" jess said, took his glue and left you standing with only a faint goodbye from your lips.

jess' hands went to squeeze your waist, as you closed the door.

you were luckily able to suppress any sound at the sudden touch and you could jess' smirk in your neck.

"very funny, mariano" you whispered, freeing yourself from his grip and turning around to let him see the annoyed expression on your face.

his eyes glistened with happiness in the dark of the hallway, before his hand went behind your back, bringing you closer to him. "why don't we go to your room?" he whispered.

you had to admit that for a short, misguided, second the sweetness of his words was not far away from undermining you.

you shook your head, snapping out of whatever had gone through your head at his tempting suggestion. "nice try" you smiled sarcastically and jess sighed, letting go of you and following behind you to the bathroom.

jess was no stranger to your rejection, especially when your grandfather was home, but he was not finished trying to (respectfully) lead you into temptation.

"there are two options how we can do this" you spoke, your voice in a normal volume as soon as jess had closed the door.

before you could explain his options, he interrupted you, the smirk now basically right in your face when you turned up the light and looked at him. "want me to lock the door?"

"no" you dragged. "you know why? because we are not doing anything forbidden"

"forbidden, huh?" jess smiled "kinda like the sound of that"

"this is not a rom-com"

"oh no" jess shook his head, wearing a faked stoic expression "of course not. just two people doing non-forbidden things in the bathroom" he shrugged.

"it sounds wrong when you say it like that"

"what does it sound like?" he stepped closer to you, ready to touch your lips with his, as his eyes fell close, but you were quicker, swerving around him, before he was able to even touch you.

"nah-ah!" you scolded.

"what?" jess turned around, now crossing his arms like you had done earlier "i'm just trying to kiss my girlfriend"

"not happening" you shrugged. "so, as i was trying to tell you before: you have two options: first, the easy one: let me fix your face and we're done in no time"

"or?" he furrowed his brows, leaning against the wall.

"or" you repeated "the hard one" jess' smile got impossibly bigger and you rolled your eyes "ew, not like you think"

"fine" he sighed. "the easy one i guess, no need to tell me about your torture method"

"it's not a torture method, but thanks for thinking so poorly of me" you muttered, before you opened the drawer under the sink, taking out the first aid kink.

you climbed on top of the counter and motioned for jess to come closer and stand in between your legs.

"well, this is kind of suggestive, don't you think?" he pinched your waist. you just shook your head, taking his hand and laying it on top of your knee instead.

"keep your hands there, mister" you directed, before you grabbed a wet cotton pad and pushed up his chin, so you could gently take the unnecessary blood off his face. "for your own good, i hope that the other started throwing punches"

"of course" jess nodded, overly dutiful, before he hissed in pain as the cotton pad touched one of the scars on his nose.

"you should've thought about that before you got into an unnecessary fight, you know?" you commented, switching out the pad, before you continued cleaning the other side of his face.

"yeah, yeah" he averted his eyes, his gaze falling onto the hem of your skirt, his fingers were laying on top of. he softly raised the fabric, pushing his hands to rest on your bare thigh.

"jess" you sighed in a warning tone.

"what? it's itchy"

"it isn't" you rolled your eyes, but didn't discuss the topic further as you threw away the pad.

you tried reaching behind you to grab one of the plasters from the first aid kit, but jess was quicker, snatching the box away from you and holding it behind his back with one hand.

"wha—"

"give me a kiss first" he prompted, smirking.

"jess" you whined, not amused at his antics.

"just one kiss, come on babe"

you reluctantly nodded. jess stepped closer, taking your chin into his hand and pulling your face closer so your lips could meet his.

his lips were warm and firm against yours, his teasing grin fading as the kiss deepened. what was meant to be a quick peck quickly turned into something more. his hand, which had been holding the first aid kit out of reach, dropped it to the floor as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you could feel the intensity growing between you two, the playful resistance dissolving into a surge of unexpected desire.

jess' other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you even closer as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.

when you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he looked at you with a glint in his eye. "was that so hard?" he teased, his voice a little huskier than before.

"oh, shut up" you muttered, flustered and lips swollen as a cause of the intensity of the kiss. you gently shoved his face back. "now pick up the first aid kit you dropped"

"yes, ma'am"

you shook your head, laughing to yourself as you watched him reach for the box on the ground behind him. it had clattered open, revealing it's contents to the ground beneath it.

he threw everything back in the box before he picked it up and came back to the counter to stand in front of you.

you took a few plasters, opening them up to stick them to the cuts on his face. "you look cute" you commented as soon as you were finished.

"i'm not cute" jess exclaimed with a stoic expression.

"you're always cute" you shrugged, now being the one to take his chin into your hands. "especially when you tell me who you fought—"

he didn't even let you finish the sentence, before he pushed his lips against yours once more. even tough it was a clear tactic to avoid your questioning, you didn't mind it this time (not that you did before, but you had to at least act like it) pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss.

jess moaned into your mouth, and your lips broke into a smile. his hands were now inching closer up your thighs and a soft laugh broke from your lips when you had to catch your breath.

"let's go to your room" jess muttered, lips skipping over your neck.

"grandpa is home" you reminded.

"grandpa is asleep" he pointed out, brows moving up and down suggestively.

"jess" you giggled, as he grabbed your waist, setting you down on the floor and taking your hand to leave the bathroom, before even waiting for an answer.

well, you weren't open to any more protests then, as he took you up to your room. the only thought in your head was to stay quiet.

opposite to the rest of the night, the next morning was straight hellfire, as neither you or jess had taken the time to set an alarm.

so taylor doose entered your room without the slightest thought and watched in horror as a half-naked jess mariano climbed out of your bedroom window and fell rather awkwardly on the ground in front of it. probably right into your grandpa's rose bushes.

"i think i might be having a heart attack"

[reidelight]

Wake Up Call

summary: when the heat breaks down at the hotel you’re staying at, you suggest sharing a bed with spencer to keep warm throughout the night

genre: a twinge of smut and fluff

cw: 18+ MDNI, gn!reader, afab!reader, pet names (darling, love, pretty boy), slight sub!spencer if you squint hard enough, mutual pining, fade to black sex

wc: 1.8k

note: hi! this is my first fic on here :) there's def potential for a part two if y'all want it. enjoy!

You regretted not bringing a sweater to sleep in. 

While it made complete sense that the weather cooled as the sun went down, you couldn’t help but complain as the cheap motel informed you all that the heating was unfortunately down in some of the rooms. Ever the lucky ones, you and Spencer stepped foot into your shared room and are welcomed with a deceptively kind wall of chilly air.

“You’d think that with all the BAU does on a daily basis, we’d get a decent room to hunker down in,” you huff, setting down your duffle bag on the farther bed.

“Just you wait until you feel the thickness of the duvet,” Spencer chimes in, which results in a dramatic sigh falling from your lips.

It was only a matter of time before you had suggested sharing a bed to gather as much heat as possible. Seeing as Spencer was a walking heater, it made perfect sense when he crawled into your bed and even more so when you huddled close together.

Despite the good doctor’s opinions on the amount of germs passed through physical contact, he found that you bypassed any and every one of those thoughts. Simply put, he didn’t mind your germs. After the three years you two had worked together at the BAU, Spencer had developed a bit of a soft spot for you, and you for him. 

“Pretty boy,” Morgan smirked as he watched you enter with Spencer, treats in hand and the brightest smiles on your respective faces. “About time you two got together.”

“What?” Spencer squeaked, the heat rising to his cheeks. “No, they just brought me a coffee this morning.”

“Just you?” Derek turns to you, “What about me? I like coffee too, and don’t get me started on donuts.”

“So does the rest of the team, and everyone else in this office building. I can’t exactly afford enough for everyone,” you laugh, taking a seat at your desk.

“Not my fault the coffee machine broke down and maintenance hasn’t gotten around to fixing the damn thing,” Morgan groaned, tilting his head back.

“I’ll bring you one tomorrow, but it’s going on the company card,” you reply, flashing a smile to Morgan.

“Not a chance,” Hotch says as he passes through the bullpen.

Your conversation faded away as Spencer set up his desk far from your own. He couldn’t help but stare at the little heart drawn next to his name on the cup. You were his best friend, but he couldn’t help but allow his heart to flutter at the prospect of something more. Of course, he had weighed the pros and cons of asking you out, but ultimately decided it wasn’t the smartest idea. 

It was all around bad timing. You had just gotten out of a rough relationship and swore off dating for the time being. Spencer watched as men and women alike pursued you each time you’d gone out on BAU bonding nights. It made perfect sense. You were the most beautiful person Spencer had laid his eyes on, of course other people would see that too. 

Spencer had done his best not to let the idea of you in relations with another get to his head. Hell, he had spent so long trying to push away his own feelings for you. It’s not like workplace relationships were prohibited– Penelope and Kevin’s relationship was given nothing but support from the beginning. To him, there was simply no way that you would ever see him in that light. 

Apparently he had been wrong, specifically about what kind of feelings you had for him.

When he had woken up in the middle of the night, Spencer found that the blood not only rushed to his cheeks at the state of your position, but to his crotch as well. You had unknowingly curled up against his front, your head tucked underneath his chin, legs tangled together. 

For a moment, Spencer stopped breathing. You were so calm, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts running throughout his head. He felt ashamed for wanting to pull you closer and hear your sickly sweet voice moan his name. 

“Y/N? Wake up, I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled, trying to wake you.

Instead of opening your eyes, you had moved impossibly closer to his body, placing pressure onto his already aching cock. Spencer winced, simultaneously cursing and thanking whatever god above that allowed this to happen.

“Darling, I need you to wake up,” Spencer shook you again, sighing in relief once he saw your eyes flutter open.

“Was there another murder? What’s going on?” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You really shouldn’t be rubbing your eyes like that. It increases the possibility of small scratches on your cornea, leading to redness, light sensitivity, and irritation,” Spencer spits out, trying his best to evade his evident nervousness.

“I just know you didn’t wake me up to tell me that,” You were slightly more awake now, still unaware of your (in Spencer’s opinion) compromised position.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get up,” Spencer rushed out, gesturing to your proximity. “Right now, preferably. I-I’m so sorry.”

Eyes wide, you shuffle away from him, apologizing profusely for moving around in your sleep. In your defense, the beds weren’t exactly the roomiest, and definitely not built for two people to sleep in comfortably at once. And he was just... so warm.

Spencer scrambled to get out of your shared bed, doing his best to cover his crotch with his hands. Already embarrassed enough, he finds himself bolting to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He rubs his hands on his face, ignoring the statement he’d spat out to you minutes prior. 

Unbeknownst to him, you had noticed his evident hard on as his lanky figure stumbled into the adjoined bathroom. Knowing your history, you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think of the prospect of a hypothetical relationship blossoming between you two. Before you could overthink the idea, you found yourself following his lead and stopping at the door of the bathroom.

“Spence?” you knock gently, trying to listen for any movement beyond the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” he replied rather quickly.

“It’s completely okay, you know. You shouldn’t be ashamed for… that,” you say softly.

“Can we please forget about it? This is highly inappropriate, and I truly am sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Spence. Who said I wanted to forget?” Spencer feels his breath fall short. “Can you let me in, love?”

How could he even begin to say no to you?

Unlocking the door, you’re greeted with a disheveled looking Spencer, cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. 

“What’s going on there, pretty boy?” you begin, taking a step closer to him.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this. I really didn’t mean to,” he begins, “W-what are you doing?” his voice falters to a whisper, afraid to speak any louder.

You placed your hands onto his wrists, gently pulling them away from his middle, allowing the view of his clothed erection on display.

“You really have nothing to be embarrassed of, Spence,” you smile, socking your head to the side. “Do you need some help taking care of that?”

“I-I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he mumbled.

“Why not? We’re friends, yeah?” Letting go of his wrists, you bring your hands to rest around his neck.

Spencer nods, instinctively putting his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“And friends help each other out,” he groans, shutting his eyes. “Say the word and I’ll stop. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” he exclaims, gripping your hips tighter. “I’m just nervous.”

“Of what, darling? It’s only me,” you pause, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “You have done this before, right?”

“Minimally, yes, but it's not just that. This could change everything. I don’t want to lose you as a friend if anything goes wrong. A-and the team! How are we going to explain any of this to them?” Spencer rambles, trying to avoid your gaze.

“We are the ones in control of this. It’s really our own prerogative to figure it all out. Either way, you’re still my best friend,” your voice fades away, lips pursing at all the thoughts running through your head.

“I am? I thought Penny was?” he spoke just above a whisper. 

“Of course you’re my best friend, dummy. You make it difficult to not love you.”

What? Spencer’s jaw drops, struggling to process the words spilling out of your mouth.

“I can understand if you don’t feel the same way–” your sentence is cut off by soft lips pressing against yours.

Following his lead, you kiss him back just as eagerly. Spencer hums into your mouth as you gently tug at the roots of his hair. You took this as a chance to slip your tongue against his, nipping at his bottom lip. He was desperate, unable to get enough of the taste of your lips. Pulling you taut against his body, you let out a shaky moan feeling his erection press against your belly.

“March 13, 2011,” he says, taking a breath. “Exactly two months after you joined the team, you didn’t seem like yourself. You were really in your head, not even Penelope could cheer you up. It also happens to be the day I worked up the courage to invite you over to mine for some wine and movies to take your mind off everything.”

You hum, taking a pause to press a short kiss to his lips. “Yeah, I remember that. It was the first time we had hung out outside the office.”

“It took every fiber in my being to not kiss you while wine drunk,” he laughs, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I think that’s the day I realized that I fell in love with you.”

“Oh, Spence,” you coo, brushing the hair from his eyes. “I probably would’ve kissed you back.”

“You’d just broken up with your partner. I couldn’t do that to you. I wanted to be a safe place, not just some guy that wanted to get in your pants.”

“I’d like to think that both those statements can exist at once.”

Spencer purses his lips, trying to hide his smile. His heart was beating out of his chest. He’d never felt lighter than he did right now.

“What do you think about letting me help with this, hm?” Spencer moans as your hands travel down his body, hovering just above his bulge.

“I don’t think we can just be friends after this,” he whispers, leaning into your touch.

“Sounds like a plan.”

[yourejinx]

Late Nights

Azriel x F.Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, +18, minors dni. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v. A bit of fluff? I think that's it.

Author's note: I wanted to try something different, this is my first time writing content like this so please be gentle but also PLEASE FEEDBACK.

Word count: 4k

It was the fourth night in a row that you were deprived from sleep, cursed with listening Cass and Nesta fuck like rabbits in the room next to yours. In all honesty, you loved your friends and were absolutely thrilled they were enjoying and exploring the extent of their relationship, they deserved it after everything they went through. You just wished they had a little consideration for your poor ears and sleeping schedule. 

You had been working your ass off the past few weeks, Rhys had you and Az going around the courts every other day, plus you've been dealing with Eris, since you seemed to be the only member in the Inner Circle that the Autumn heir tolerated just fine. So you had your plate full, and wished for a little peace and quiet at your own home. But your friends had other plans.

Nesta let out a particularly loud moan that you clearly heard through the too thin wall. It made you grimace and you decided you had enough. Huffing, you tossed the sheets off your body, grabbed the shirt you had stolen from the shadowsinger years ago and opened the door, putting on the clothing while you made your way down the corridor. If you were awake, then Azriel had to be too, he didn't miss a thing happening in this house. 

You didn't bother knocking on his door, you were way past that line with him. Azriel was your best friend, your confident, the person who you most trusted in the entire world, and vice versa. You were too comfortable with each other to bother with politeness. You flung open the door to his bedroom, making your way inside and slamming the door behind you dramatically. The room was dark except for the dim fae light hanging on his bedside table, Azriel had put down the book he was reading to stare at you amusedly. 

"Good evening to you too." He uttered playfully.

You didn't reply, just scowled, walked up to the other side and plopped down face first on the bed beside him. He chuckled. 

"Finding it hard to sleep?" He asked, setting the book aside. 

"They are insufferable." You mumbled around the sheets. They smelled like him, an instant comfort for your tired mind. "Agh! You can hear them from here too! How are you not bothered?!?" You lift your head from his pillows to look at him exasperatedly. 

Azriel smiled somewhat apprehensive at you. "I'm kind of used to it by now." He shrugged. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, smirking. "Kinky."

He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance. "You have no idea, sweetheart." His voice was a deep purr as he smirked back at you. 

You lifted one eyebrow in amusement. There was this recurrent thing between you two, where you usually teased and flirted with each other but never dared to actually do something about it. It was just for fun right? You were friends who just liked messing around as a joke. Always dancing the line between friends and something more, it was a dangerous game for sure, but you had to admit you loved the thrill of it. 

“Is that so? Oh please, do enlighten me then.” You shot back, lying more comfortably on his bed. Arms behind your head, eyes fixed on him. 

Hazel gaze traveled all the way down to the now exposed skin of your upper thighs, your movement had caused the shirt – his shirt– to ridden up a little, revealing more of your legs and the underline of a pair of lacy black panties. His pulse spiked slightly at the sight. You didn’t seem to notice, he averted his eyes before you could catch him shamelessly staring at you.  

There was a glint in your eyes when he caught your stare again, a slight flush to your cheeks, but he didn’t back off. 

“Curious now, are we?” He tilted his head, resting his cheek on his fist to properly look at you. 

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy. You brought it up, are you backing out?” 

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, a playful spark dancing in his golden eyes, when—

“Fuck, Ness!” Cassian’s growl reached both your ears as clear as day. There was a beat of silence after that where you just stared at each other stunned, then you broke in a fit of laughter. 

“Seriously Az, I don’t know how you endure it, if I have to listen to them one more night I’m gonna lose my shit. I haven’t slept in days,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “and neither have you, it seems.” you pointed out, poking open one eye to stare at him. Azriel had laid back facing you, wings tucked behind his back, shoulders involuntarily curving inwards, a sign of tiredness. You noted the dark circles under his eyes. 

“I look that shitty, huh?” he smiled tiredly.  

“Never.” You stated matter-of-factly. “You’re always pretty.” 

It was his turn to blush then, heat rapidly crawling to his face and neck. He could handle your flirting, your teasing, but he didn’t know how to react when you blatantly called him pretty. It just sounded so…sincere, coming from you. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was no secret that he found you attractive, he thought he made that clear, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? He didn’t just think you were hot, he thought you were beautiful, smart, and kind, and it freaked the hell out of him to acknowledge all those things because that would mean that he wanted more. More than being your friend, but it terrified him to ruin your friendship. If you wanted him in the same way, you would’ve said something by now, right? You’ve known each other for years. 

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, breath fanning across his face. He hadn’t noticed how close you were. He could feel the heat radiating from your body. 

“I’m thinking that we should sleep.” He answered, but made no move whatsoever. You smiled at him and nodded, making to reach the faelight to turn it off. You angled your body half above him and stretched to the bedside table, hair barely grazing the hot skin of his torso. Gods, you were practically straddling him, his mind taking him to all sorts of indecent scenarios. Your breasts were just a breadths away from his mouth, he could make out the perked nipples under the shirt. He loved seeing you in his clothes, but right now he wanted nothing more than to rip the fabric out of you. Azriel swallowed dryly. 

What was his fucking problem? It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared a bed before, he blamed his friend’s heated session down the hall. He had to admit it had gotten him a bit railed up, especially with you on his bed, smelling like him. It was hard to ignore the growing want in his veins. 

“Goodnight, Az.” You said, pulling back a little to look at him through half lidded eyes, even in the dark. Was it possible you were feeling the same? or was it just tiredness in your features? 

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispered back. If you leaned in any closer, he swears he’d kiss you, consequences be damned. But you slid right back onto your side, back facing him. 

Azriel lets out a quiet, frustrating sigh, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist pulling you close. More moaning can be heard outside his bedroom, all the way to Cassian’s room. He feels slightly jealous. 

Suddenly you snorted, “We’ll sleep better if we get past the nghs, ohh, right there Cass!” you moaned, imitating Nesta. Azriel inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way your little whimpering had shot straight to his dick. And the bite of jealousy he felt at hearing Cassian’s name falling so sinfully from your lips.

He scented the slight change in your scent though, a pinch of sweet arousal that got him mouth-watering. It had gotten to your head too, the display of passion from your friends a few bedrooms away. Azriel debated whether it was wise to do something right now, to taste the waters maybe. But you rolled onto your back again, facing the ceiling and letting out a frustrated groan. 

“Someone has to teach them though, make them uncomfortably listen for once. Maybe I’ll go to Rita’s tomorrow, choose a random male and bring him home. Beat them at their own game.” 

“No.” Azriel growled. You turned your head to the side, looking at him and were met with the dark, lustful haze in his eyes. You felt your core pulse in response. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“What do you mean"no "?" You asked, feeling your tongue paper dry  in your mouth.

“Why wait until tomorrow, if you can beat them tonight?”

The offer hung there, unspoken, for a few heartbeats. You felt your face grow hot, felt liquid fire pooling at your belly at the mere suggestion. He hadn’t even touched you and yet he got you all hot and bothered with a few words. You licked your lips, staring at him, shirtless, hair tousled over the pillow, shadows dancing dangerously over his shoulder. As if expecting your answer. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had to be illegal to be this beautiful. 

“I’m game if you are, sweetheart.” There it was, the deep purr again that had you clenching your legs together. He noticed the shift of course, smirking smugly. 

“Haha, very funny.” you said, huffing. 

“I’m not playing.” He pulled you closer, pressing you against his front. You gasped, feeling the not so subtle bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Is this why you kept me at an arm's length tonight?” you chuckled, but he could hear the breathlessness in your voice. “So I wouldn't find out they got you all worked up?” 

“No, this isn’t their doing, angel. It's all yours.” He dared a hand down your waist, past your hips, to ghost over the skin under the hem of your shirt. You shuddered. “Tell me to stop and I will. It's okay.” 

He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear. 

You turned fully to him, chests pressed together, breasts dragging against the firm muscle with every breath. 

“Fuck it, let’s show them.” You breathed into his mouth before crashing your lips together in a searing kiss. 

Azriel groaned low against your mouth, grip tighter bringing your hips flushed together, and kissed you back with fervor. Your hands found purchase in the dark locks at the back of his neck, tugging gently and urging him impossibly closer. He pushed you onto your back, knees parting on their own accord to accommodate him between your legs. It was all so hot and messy. Like you both have been waiting for this for a very long time, it made you throb with need. The thought of him wanting you as much as you wanted him. 

You rolled your hips onto him, desperate for any sort of friction, moaning loudly when the clothed tip of his cock catched on your clit deliciously. Azriel took his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch and taste of you, kissing you deeply, desperately. He wanted more, he wanted everything. A wave of arousal licked down his spine, your lips were sweet and addictive, he wondered — needed to know— if other parts of you tasted as sweet. 

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbones. His right hand came to fondle with the generous swell of your breast over the shirt, pinching at the perked nub. The smell of your arousal hit him at a full force, Azriel felt like a youngling in heat rutting his cock at your core. Fuck, he couldn't help himself, he was so enamoured with the sounds he was getting out of you. 

“Take this off,” he ordered, tugging at your shirt. “If I do it I may rip the damn thing off of you, and I love seeing you in my shirt.” 

You obeyed without a second thought, too lost in the feeling of him already. He invaded all your senses, his touch sending your skin on fire, his scent sparkling pleasure bubbling in your insides. The rich tone of his voice had you feeling all tingly and sensitive. Gods, you wanted him everywhere. 

With the offensive clothing now discarded, Azriel wasted no time dipping his head down and latching his mouth to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth around the nub. His hand came to play with your other breast, giving it the same attention, switching between your tits. You arched your back into him, whining in pleasure. 

He let go of your chest, looking down to admire you, all spread out for him. Nipples hard and shiny with his spit, breathing unevenly, underwear drenched with arousal, all because of him. He felt his cock throb within the confines of his sweats. Fuck, you looked so pretty like this, he had to taste you. Azriel looked up at your face, your glazed over eyes and swollen lips, and kissed you hard. Scarred fingers found the flimsy material of your panties, pushing them aside and dragging two digits along your soaked folds; you both moaned at the feeling. He rubbed tight circles around your clit, then ran a finger through your slit, smearing your juices everywhere. Your breathing quickened and he bit down your lip before kissing his way to your heat. Azriel looked at you from between your legs, pupils blown with lust, smirking wickedly. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged the material painfully slow down your legs, snarling softly at the sight of your dripping pussy. 

“Beautiful,” he moaned. “So damn beautiful.” His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe out your center. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your hips bucking off the bed to get closer to his face. He chuckled darkly. “Eager, angel?”

“Az please, stop teasing,”  you whined prettily, eyes locking with his. 

At this point you didn’t care if your friends could hear or not, you wanted Azriel’s mouth on you, his fingers, his cock. You wanted to feel all of him. 

“Whatever my sweet angel wants,” he blew some air into your cunt, making you shiver in anticipation. Azriel dive in, devouring you like a male starved, like he might die if he didn’t get to taste you. He all but full on made out with your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking sharply. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pin to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking the wet muscle around the nub. The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time, you moaned his name aloud and tugged at the strands of his hair again. 

Azriel’s free hand reached down to spread your folds, soaking his digits in your arousal before proding one finger at your entrance, and pushing inside. Your walls immediately clenched around him, making you both growl in pleasure. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Already clenching on me,” he moaned, teeth grazing your clit. You could feel the pressure building in your lower belly, walls clamping down on his finger when he added a second one. You cried out, desperately trying to ride his face. Azriel pumped his fingers inside of you faster, curling his digits to reach that sweet spot that had you seeing stars behind your lids. Words were beginning to fail you, mumbling incoherently about how close you were. “You wanna cum? C’mon angel, give it to me, cum all over my face and fingers.”

His words had an immediate effect on you, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure overpowered you and you let go, cumming hard on his fingers, moaning his name for all the house to hear. Azriel kept thrusting his fingers into your hole, guiding you through your orgasm and licking every last drop you had to offer. He watched you closely, eyes shut in pleasure, soft pants leaving your plush lips as you came down from your high. Only then he pulled his hand away, mesmerized by you. He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you. 

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling. 

“Hey,” you replied, face flushed and smiling satisfied. You reached your hand to push away the dark strands that had fallen into his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. He looked absolutely gorgeous, hair disheveled from your tugging, lips bruised and shiny with your juices, gaze clouded with lust and something else. More intense even, more deep. 

You dragged your thumb over his bottom lip and he sucked it into his mouth, you almost whined again. Breaths coming in short. You brought his face to yours, kissing him with such devotion you couldn't hold back any longer. Azriel shuddered, leisurely kissing you back, you could taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning softly, you ranked your nails down his body, from his pecs, to the hard planes of his abdomen, all the way to his cock, palming him through the fabric. He hissed when you slid your fingers past the waistband of his pants, gripping him in your hand. His hips buckled. He was big, and warm and sticky with pre-cum. You made to put his sweatpants down but he stopped you before you could take it any further. 

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked, looking intently at you. A swirl of emotions passed through his eyes, it made your heart flutter in your chest. “We don't have to, unless that's what you want. I think we made our point clear.” He laughed breathlessly. 

“It is what I want Az. I want you, I need you. Please.” You watched him with pleading eyes, full of trust and… He didn't dare acknowledge that emotion yet, not unless you spoke it out loud. Although his heart still gave a flip. Pulse picking up. 

He helped you pull his pants down, and kicked them out of his legs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his abs, tip swollen and dripping. You flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen you wear, dragging your eyes shamelessly through his body. It gave him a little bit of an ego boost. 

“You're so pretty Az. So so pretty,” you murmured, eyes half lidded already devouring him. 

There it was again, you calling him pretty. He didn't know what to do with himself so he leaned in to capture your mouth in a scorching kiss. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him flush against you, both hissing when the tip of his proud cock bumped against your clit. 

You broke the kiss to slide your mouth along his jaw, down his neck, peppering his sun-kissed skin in love bites. Marking him as yours. Azriel groaned and thrust his hips forward, sliding through your folds, coating his length in your arousal. He repeated the action a couple of times before aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your wetness and the remnants of your orgasm making it easy to slide all the way in. Your walls hugged him tightly as he bottomed out, stilling, to give you time to adjust to his size. Azriel let out a moan so hot and sinful it made a new wave of arousal wash over you. 

He felt on cloud nine, his head falling to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting it intoxicate him. He could’ve cum right then and there, buried to the hilt in your heat. But he wanted it to last, taking his time to savor the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He had no doubt in his lust filled mind that you were made for him. You were his and only his. 

You rolled your hips at last, running your fingers down his sides urging him to move. That was all it took for him to pull out to the tip and slam his hips hard into yours, Azriel set a slow, sensual pace, intended in making you feel every last inch of him. You welcomed the stretch with a wanton moan, feeling the veins with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls. 

“Gods, Azriel, more!” you whined. “I can take it.” 

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He panted. Pulling out he gripped your hips tightly and turned you onto your stomach, ass up in the air. He thrust in harsher, making you cry out in pleasure. All signs of restraint gone. 

Azriel picked up speed, angling his hips just fine so that he could reach even deeper inside you. He quickly found the spot that had you gripping him tight, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Abusing your hole, hitting your g spot every single time, mercilessly. He had you in a state of pure bliss, bringing one arm to wrap around your middle, reaching between your legs to play with your clit. You were so close, already too sensitive from your previous orgasm. Squirming around in his embrace, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts. 

“Fuuck! Don't stop,” you managed out, fisting at the sheets for support. 

“I won't,” he grunted, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix. “You're mine, do you understand me? Mine. No other male gets to touch you.” 

“Yes, yes I'm yours,” you panted,  desperately wanting to please him. 

“Good girl.” 

He was relentless, hips slapping with a force that had the headboard smashing against the wall. He knew you were about to cum, could feel his own orgasm sneaking up on him. Azriel went impossibly faster, pulling sobs out of you. You clamped down on him after one particular sharp thrust and your high barreled through you without previous warning. You screamed, white hot pleasure blinding you. Cum gushed out of you, making a mess of your thighs and his. He held your trembling body up, pressed to him as he fucked you through your orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. His wings flared proud behind him and he felt the tight knot in his gut snap. Azriel came with a growl of your name, hips coming to a stop. Your body falling limp atop the bed. 

Slowly pulling out of you, he watched astonished at the mess you made, both of your juices dripping down your legs. When his breathing became even again, Azriel leaned in to press a kiss to your spine, making you shudder. 

“You okay, angel?” He asked, scarred fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face. 

You smiled tiredly at him, content. “I feel amazing.” 

He chuckled and laid back next to you, pulling you to lay on his chest. You pressed a kiss over his heart, arms resting on his stomach, still catching your breath. No one spoke for a while, enjoying the aftermath of your actions. There was no room for worry, not with Azriel. Not ever. 

He traced iddle circles on your skin, loving how well you fit next to him. 

“Az?” You called softly to him, he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you hear that?” 

He stilled, straining his hearing. Muffled moans could be heard down the hall and the distinct sound of a headboard smashing hard against the wall. You laughed in unison. 

“I think we may have spurred them on,” he said amusedly, voice hoarse. 

“I've never been more glad to have left my room than right now” you chuckled. 

“You and I both, angel.” He added, squeezing your ass. 

You turned to him, placing a kiss to the outline of his jaw. Silently admiring the hickies you left on his neck. 

“How does a second round sound?” You purred. 

He smirked, cock already hardening. “Absolutely delightful.”