#ty so much everyone for reading along

[hotluncheddie]

Day 7: Daddy Steve

"Softly"

Ao3

wc: 2.5k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship (they're in love), soft dom Steve Harrington, anal sex, crying, pet names, Eddie Munson needs a hug

written for @subeddieweek <3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Some days are just too much. Everything crawling up too high and burying Eddie where he stands. Days where he just can't handle it anymore. Needs a break. Some care. A little softness.

It's been one of those days. 

The car Eddie’s working on just doesn’t want to run right and he heard a customer whispering to his boss, Jimmy, about his scars. Assuming it made Eddie someone untrustworthy; ‘you really want him in your shop Jim?’. 

Jimmy set them straight but it really set Eddie’s teeth on edge. They’re not in Hawkins anymore, but sometimes, it feels like he never got away. Still a suspect. Still a freak. 

Eddie slips into their apartment, shoving off his shoes and jacket. It's not so cold out anymore but he’s still got a henley on under his overalls, he pulls those half off and ties them at his waist. He keeps the henley firmly in place though. Pulling the sleeves further down over his hands. 

The scars over his forearms aren’t even that noticeable, some of his faintest. But that guy, at the shop, he noticed. He noticed and it made Eddie’s skin crawl. 

Steve is at the stove in their tiny kitchen, stirring something and humming to a song on the radio. 

Eddie stalks over, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. ‘Good day?’ Steve asks from his spot, eyes already trained on Eddie, on the knit of his shoulders. 

Eddie grunts, taking a pull from the can. Not looking directly at Steve, at his soft eyes. 

Eddie doesn’t deserver them.  

‘Okay then, bad day.’ Steve jokes but it rips something up in Eddie. Pulls at his sinew, makes his scars itch. Everyone seems to know everything about him already, knows all his secrets, who he is. And maybe they do, his past is already laid out all over his skin anyway. 

‘Need to talk about it?’ Steve asks, but it sounds so patronising, so, so. 

‘God, just shut up Steve!’ Eddie scoffs, slamming his can down on the counter and turning away, arms crossed. 

He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth. 

Steve takes Eddie's outburst in stride, slowly taking him in his arms, wrapping around his back and hooking his chin over his shoulder. ‘Steve? Not heard that one in a long time.’ A soft kiss to Eddie's temple. ‘What happened to Stevie?’ Steve rubs his cheek up against Eddies. ‘Or sweetheart?’ Buries his face in Eddie's neck. ‘Or doll, hm?’

Eddie turns so they’re facing. Letting the weight of the day, the guilt over his outburst show on his face, in the slouch of his shoulders. 

‘That bad huh?’ Steve asks, running his eyes over Eddie's expression. 

Eddie sniffs. ‘M’sorry. Don’t, please don’t shut up.’ He pleads, wishing he could rewind time 30 minutes, rewind to this morning. Do it all over. 

Steve cups Eddie’s face in his hands, holding him up and looking right into him. ‘What do you need?’ Steve asks, forcing eye contact. 

Eddie blinks, breaths in through his nose but his exhale gets choked on a sob. Fuck, it’s been such a bad fucking day. ‘I need to not fucking think for a while, don’t, don’t wanna exist anymore Stevie. Just wanna be here, be yours.’ He pleads, eyes on Steve’s soft brown ones. He feels tears sliding down his cheeks and snot filing his nose. 

Steve hushes him, pulling Eddie into his neck and Eddie sobs. He cries ugly and loud and stains Steves shirt with his tears.But he can’t stop, felt too much today. Too bad.

He can’t do it tonight, exist. Wants to hide, needs it. 

Stroking his hand over Eddie’s hair Steve hold him close, swaying them gently on the kitchen tiles and Steve statrs to hum again. Eddie thinks it’s Fleetwood Mac but he can’t really hear over the sound of his own ragged breathing. He just knows Steve is there, that Steve’s got him. 

Eddie cries until he can’t anymore. 

Once his breathings back to normal Steve pulls his head back out. Lifting his own shirt up to wipe Eddie’s face clean. Eddie grimaces because, gross. But Steve just has this little smile on his face, private and grounding and Eddie goes still. Lets Steve do as he pleases and just focuses on breathing. 

Steve kisses his forehead once he’s done. ‘Go shower for me now Ed’s, yeah? It'll help you relax. I’ll make you some food.’ Eddie stiffens slightly at having to leave Steve’s arms. But, a shower does sound nice. Chance to scrub the grease and sweat from his hair and skin. 

Eddie nods and Steve kisses his cheek, murmurs ‘good’. Eddie bites his lips as he shuffles away. 

-

Eddie opens the shower curtain to see a small pile of clothes sitting in the toilet seat. A pair of loose shorts and one of Steve’s old crewnecks. Both Eddie’s favourites, they’re worn with age so they’re soft and usually reside in Steve’s side of the draws, making them smell a little more like him. 

Eddie feels his shoulders dip further, tension spilling away. Takes Steve’s quiet instruction, his love filled action, puts on the clothes and breathes deep.   

He smells Steve’s cooking, hears him singing softly through the walls, definitely Fleetwood Mac. 

After they eat, Steve insists on doing the dishes while Eddie drinks tea - watching Steve, waiting for him to be done - before they move to the couch. 

With the TV on low and main light off, Eddie finally feels his shoulders relax fully. Able to finally focus on just this.

Now, here, with Steve. 

Eddie straddles Steve's thighs, making himself as small as possible in his lap, hooking his feet behind Steve's calves. Tangling them till they’re one, connected. 

Eddies closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of Steve below him, the softness of his sweats against the backs of his legs, the rise and fall of his ribs. Pushing his forehead into Steve sternum Eddie shifts his fingers up under the hem of his t-shirt. Taking a deep breath as his fingers roam over Steve's soft healed sides, over his stomach and up to his pecs. Eddie cups them and squeezes, trying to fill all his senses with nothing but Steve. 

Steve's voice is honey warm as he speaks quietly into Eddie's hair. ‘You want Mommy tonight baby?’ And Eddie gasps, looks up at him with watery eyes, feeling caught. 

Until Steve is trailing soft fingertips over his face and jaw, over his fluttering eyelids and ears, over the scar that makes the side of his mouth droop. 

So faintly, Eddie worries Steve will miss it, he shake his head and keeps his eyes closed. Swallows around the lump in his throat. ‘Tell me what you need baby.’ Steve hums, still close, still touching. 

‘Daddy.’ He whispers, softly, into Steve's fingers at his lips, breathing it into his bones. A secret confession, a little bit of his insides spilt outwards.  

Steve ‘hmm’s’ in quiet understanding, kissing the corner of Eddie's scarred mouth, the tip of his nose, the furrow between his brows. ‘I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, yeah?’ 

‘Need it. I’m sorry, just, I. I need it.’ Eddie's voice wavers, his eyes screw up tight. The relentlessness of the day, the week, claw at him again, fill up his lungs, fit to drown him. 

‘Hey, hey it’s okay. Whatever you want. You’re doing perfect. Answered my question so perfect Ed’s, okay?’ Steve smooths his hands over Eddie’s back, repetitive and grounding. ‘It’s just us, remember? Just us here. I’ve got you.’  

Eddie nods dumbly, feels tears prickle his eyes. He takes a shuddery breath and tries to focus on letting the day drift away from him again. The soft blanket of ‘Steve’ and ‘home’ and ‘safe’ taking its place.

They stay like that, Eddie clinging and Steve holding him through it. Letting him relax enough to fall, to dip. Softly Steve trails fingers through Eddie's scalp, scratching lightly, tucking his hair behind his ears. Starts tapping Eddie's lip with his thumb, toying with it, playing with the seam of them. Waiting. He’s always so patient with Eddie, when Eddie gets like this. 

Fisting the neckline of Steve’s sweatshirt Eddie inches impossible closer, sandwiching his forearms between their two chests. Nuzzling at Steve’s nose with his own. ‘Say it again’ Steve whispers into his mouth. In that way that's a little demanding but still playful, cocky, unbelievably Steve.  

Eddie leans away just slightly to see Steve’s eyes, hooded, with pupils blown impossibly wide. Eddie's insides churn.  

‘Daddy.’

Steve buries his hands in Eddie’s hair and brings their mouths together. Crashing into a kiss that's teeth and spit and soft need. Eddie keens at the sensation, how all consuming it is, when Steve kisses him. 

They kiss until there’s no breath left in Eddies lungs, until the spit on his chin threatens to slide down his neck, until he feels the tip of his cock sticking to the fabric of his shorts. 

Steve pulls him away gently by the hair, just enough for them to suck in greedy lungfuls, sharing the air between them. Eddie breaks. ‘You, you say it again.’ He demands, desperate. 

‘Say what, hm? Tell me what you want Eddie.’ Steve moves strands of hair away from Eddies face, bit by tiny bit, preening him, taking his time. 

‘Want you to say it again, call me it again.’ Eddie pants, unable to catch his breath. he needs it. 

Leaning in close Steve tucks some of Eddies hair back behind his ear, sweeps it over his shoulder. Ghosting his lips over the shell of his ear Eddie feels the smile pulling at Steves lips. Goosebumps break out over his thighs.

‘Baby.’ 

Eddie full body shivers. Feels his vision tunnel with the sweet floaty feeling that comes when he’s held like this, talked to like this. Allowed to be, like this, with Steve.  

Whining Eddie shoves lightly at Steve's chest to get their faces back together. Kissing and kissing and kissing, Eddie whines into Steve's mouth as he sucks on Eddie's tongue, swallowing each other's moans and Eddie can’t help canting his hips forwards, grinding in tight little circles on Steve's lap.

‘Does baby want anything special?’ Steve asks, tongue still dipping in and out of Eddie’s mouth.  

Eddie shakes his head, still close, needs to be close. ‘Just want you. Want Daddy.’ he sounds desperate, feels desperate. 

Steve kisses him again, slowing them. Pecks Eddies cheeks, his nose.

And it’s done sweetly. Steve always so sweet, and soft, with Eddie. Only getting mean if he asks for it, only going harder if Eddie begs. 

‘Bedroom.’ Steve says into Eddies cheek. Stealing another kiss but stopping the movement of Eddies hips with firm hands at his waist. 

-

‘Fuck, you look so pretty on my cock baby.’ Steve pants. ‘So beautiful Eddie, always.’ 

Eddie whines and squirms, arms above his head, turning his face to rub his cheek against the pillow. He bites the inside of his arm as Steve thrusts especially deep, groaning above him. 

‘Say it.’ Steve says. ‘Say it for me baby.’ 

‘Ah fuck, fuck. Love your cock Daddy, love having your cock inside me.’ Eddie says, the filthy plea zinging up his spine and making his cock twitch. 

Steve strokes him, lightly, way too lightly. Thumbing his wet tip. Collecting Eddie’s pre and presents his wet thumb for him. Eddie opens his mouth greedily, sucking the digit clean. 

‘Say the rest of it baby.’ Steve insists. ‘Daddy needs to hear you say it.’ 

Eddie furrows his brows, confused, mind too fuzzy. Then a deep blush spreads across his face, down his neck. 

‘Daddy.’ Eddie pleads. He doesn’t. He can’t. 

Steve slows his thrusts and Eddie thrashes, still feeling the drag so deep as Steve bottoms out each time, but he’s grinding so slow it sets Eddies skin on fire. 

Eddie crosses his arms over his eyes, pouting. ‘I’m ah I’m- I’m beautiful Daddy.’ His chest rising and falling, breathing shakily through his nose. 

‘That’s is. So good.’ Steve placates. Leaning over Eddie to talk in his ear, pushing him deeper into the mattress. ‘Again.’ 

‘I’m, I’m beautiful.’ Eddie feels tears threaten to spill over his lash line. Feels his heart beat in his ears. Feels Steve’s stubble against his cheek. 

Steve kisses over Eddie’s jaw and neck. Over his scarred skin. Following the lines of his healed sutures, raised and jagged. Steve mouths over them, following the trail back up to Eddies mouth. ‘So so beautiful baby. Such a good boy for Daddy.’ 

Eddie can’t contains the sob that escapes him. ‘Daddy please.’ He whimpers,

He doesn’t want to talk anymore. 

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s knee, pushing it into his chest. ‘I know, I know baby. Gonna give you what you need yeah? You’ve been so good, so perfect.’ 

With a final kiss to Eddie’s mouth Steve hauls himself back up and resumes the previous pace. Thrusting deep and quick and Eddie moans, feeling split open and raw. Feels his cheeks wet with tears and he knows he’s being loud but his mind is so so quiet. Nothing but the feeling of Steve and the blanket of getting taken care of. 

‘My pretty boy. My baby. You’re everything Eddie, my everything. I love you so much, love you more than anything.’ Steve pants out and Eddie cries. Tears falling into his hairline, cheeks warm and he’s probably splotchy all the way down his chest but Steve pushes into him deeper, speeding up and grazing that spot within him. 

Eddie feels his orgasm build inside him. A string of wet ‘ah ah ah’s’ leaving his lips, in time with Steve’s quick thrusts. 

Steve changed angle, leaning over Eddie again, holding himself up on his palms. Able to get impossibly deeper, Eddie feeling him up his spine, in his mouth, all over. 

‘Together baby, together.’ Steve pants, wrapping one giant hand around Eddie, fisting in time with his thrusts. Which are getting sloppier, but still so deep. 

Eddie arches of the bed, hands grasping for purchase on Steve’s broad shoulders, his neck. Their chests pressing together as Steve bottoms out again. Tugging on Eddie just right, filling him up with a deep moan. ‘Daddy.’ Eddie wails, cumming all over their stomachs and chests, some hitting his chin as he gulps for breath. Fingers still digging into Steve’s skin, keeping him close. 

Steve grinds his softening cock into Eddie, sinking down on top of him, a deep body pressure. Eddie drifts. 

Steve is laying on his side mouthing at Eddie’s neck, leaving soft kisses over his skin and scars, up over his cheeks. Eddie groans, turning and wrapping his arms around Steve. Crowding in closer so their bodies are back flush. 

Steve hums, petting Eddie’s hair and kissing the crown of his head. ‘Back with me again sleepy head?’ He asks. 

Eddie grunts, nibbling at Steves collarbone, mouthing and smoothing his lips over Steves soft skin. Eddie still feeling fragile, a little quiet, and needy. 

But so, so much better than before. 

‘Thank you.’ He mumbles, voice wobbling, but he’s too tired to cry any more today. 

‘Baby.’ Steve coos, kissing Eddie’s head again. ‘No need for that, want to help. Love you so much Ed’s, always.’ 

Eddie sniffs again, hiding in the darkness of Steve’s chest, hiding away in his heart, in his bones. Still awed by the beauty and kindness of his soul. 

He knows Steve’s got him, will let him rest there, basking and healing. Until he’s ready to face it all again. 

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[clockwayswrites]

So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)

---

“You are supposed to be home.”

Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.

(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)

“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”

“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”

Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”

“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.

Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)

Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.

There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.

“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.

Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.

It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.

He could use hope.

He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.

Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.

Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.

Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.

Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.

(As long as he remembered.)

[luveline]

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 

To: jamesp@outlook.wpa.uk 

Hi James, 

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst, 

Your unhappy adjacent desk. 

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie, 

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 

Best, 

James Potter :) 

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 

You’ll be deaf by thirty. 

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 

Jealous of everyone in the annex. 

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 

You still. She? 

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 

“It’s too much work.” 

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 

“But you’d do it?” 

“How long will you be off for?” 

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 

You can’t look at him very long. 

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 

“I know. James knows that too.” 

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 

[fishnapple]

Message from the Universe to you

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

LAPIS LAZULI

Fortune comes and goes, fickle like the wind. But it sure favours the bold. Whatever predicament you're in right now, it will come to pass. But also take notes, whatever blessing or good luck you think you're having, there will come a day it will also pass. It's the art of going with the flow of life, never expecting anything to bend to your will or to last forever. Such is life's ephemeral beauty. You lose some and then you win some.

There's a knot inside your mind, tying everything closely together. In fact, too close, to the point of rigidity and confinement. The fear of not living up to some lofty standards you have heaped upon yourself is excruciating, it cripples your ability to look forward and to step out of the shadow. You feel like you have to perform, to meet a certain criteria, to please, who do you seek to please? Is it yourself, is it a distant ghost of the past, or is it the nagging of the future? What will happen when there is displeasure? Will you be punished, or will you be free? You see yourself through the eyes of other people, yet forget the very eyes that are yours. You wear the clothes that people compliment on but forget the naked body inside feeling those clothes. If you untie the knot inside, take off the clothes (armour) and look at the mirror, see if there are tears reflecting back at you, or are they smiles? Whatever they are, they are real, they are you.

When you're free, you will realise how much you can do yet how little you have to do anything. The unexpected might happen, but you are not afraid of it, you let it wash over you, or maybe push you a little. Then you will find yourself stronger, brighter. And along the way, you will find companions, whose perception of you won't be the target of your worries, you just feel confident in knowing that you view the world with similar eyes.

JADE

So many things to do, so little time, so little energy. Your energy is so straightforward and blazing that sometimes it can be cutting or becomes a burden for you. Like carrying a lightning rod. But this energy is being stored in such a small room, it's frustrated and wants to break out. Do you find yourself lying awake, sleepless, mind buzzing with constant noise? Or do you find your stomach and your chest heating up, like a fire burning inside? A simple word or a simple shake of the head is enough to push this fire back inside, under lock and key. You could feel like bursting out at the smallest remark, taking everyone aback , yet you would show the most placid expression when someone is being emotionally open to you. This energy bursts out when you don't want it to, it stays silent when you struggle to call for it. Your energy, your enthusiasm needs grounding, it needs to be directed with a clear purpose. Only so can it become productive.

Remove superfluous things, thoughts, and objects. Don't burden yourself anymore than you already are doing. Don't take on so many projects, interests, and even people. Your inner load is already heavy as it is, don't pile more on it. Sometimes, things needn't be heavy and serious, they can be fun and lighthearted. Some connections shouldn't be labelled with heavy implications or expectations, yet. Some worth pursuing, but with a gentle reach. Keep the jest of life, you're not meant to keep yourself in the dark, you're meant to shine brightly and radiate warmth like the Sun.

MOONSTONE

I think you need a vacation, take time to pamper yourself, take time to unwind, and release all the negativity bottling up inside you. Take your life to the centre stage, don't be distracted by the so-called responsibilities and work. How can you work if you're in shambles. The body temple of yours needs lots of care and maintenance. It won't stay the same years in and out, time will chip away its vigor, a heart in pain will lose its lustre. This group is all about taking care of your physical body and the reality around you.

Take time to be alone with yourself, maybe this is a foreign feeling, you're so used to the presence of others, their noise, their energy, that you find it hollow when you're alone. It's like you're the last one to leave the room, and suddenly you find yourself in such a huge space, all alone. What will you do in that situation? Hurriedly get out of the room to catch up with people, fearing an invisible shadow will materialise itself if you stay in the room long enough? Or do you stay, take a look around the room, notice the small details that you've never noticed, play some music, and sway back and forth to the melody of it? What action is more sensible, what is more fun, you decide.

I see a waterfall, a downpour, I see you just sit there, inside the house, looking out, or holding an umbrella, being still at try to catch a look at each rain drop, let time slow down for you, work diligently at staying still and relaxing, you will find how hard they are. Make them your habits. In the stillness of the body, you find movements in your mind, amidst the rain, you hear the thunder in your heart, ideas strike like lightning and you would be wise to catch them.

MORGANITE

You have been working so hard, putting all in to get the work done, please be proud of yourself, pat yourself on the back, no one deserves it better than you do. Now it's time to reap the reward, things will fall into places, more opportunities will come. But to save your energy for those opportunities, you should take a rest first. Don't fret, don't worry, you won't miss a thing if you stop and rest a little, in fact, you will even go further into your path than you realise. Isn't it amazing how you can stay still and yet are advancing at the same time?

It's time to learn more about yourself, get to know yourself, your most earnest wishes, your brightest light, your biggest gifts, but of course, your biggest fears also. There are so many things to learn, you will never get enough of yourself. The image you hold of yourself is fuzzy and ever changing, ever elusive, always out of reach. You might feel lost when you're alone, but you also feel lonely when you're with other people. But that's just the effect of a fog draping over your eyes.

By seeing yourself better, you will also get better at seeing people. Exchanges with others will have deeper meaning for you. The words you say, the words you hear, they can contain love and affection, use them wisely, listen to them closely. From others do we find our love echoes back at us. You will see love in the most mundane thing, find it in the most unexpected manner. Then let it fuel your wishes.

AGATE

You feel like you can do it all, at the same time, you don't feel like you're doing enough. Ideas and plans swirling in your head, burning to be put into reality. One could say you're a manifestor, or more correctly, a manufacturer, in the purest sense, of ideas, inspirations, and projects. Though some of them could be better if finished before a new one starts. Be selective in what you're investing in, your energy, your time, your effort, your attention. Don't mass produce things, make bespoke things, things tailored only to a selected few. Or else you will find yourself overburdened by the stress of unproductivity and the guilt of not finishing or not starting enough projects.

The reason behind such an intense drive for productivity, besides your inherent creative power, is an emotional baggage lies deep inside you, you think it's sleeping, but it's not. It will wait and find the most opportune moment to spring out or seep out, into every social interaction of yours. Encouragement from the crowd fuels your confidence, but it also has the potential to wreck havoc on your psyche, if absent. Why do you feel you need to do so much? For whom? For what cause?

When your affection is turned inward, it has an effect of shooting and cracking the dome of the cell holding your emotional baggage. Whether it will fly out to be free or stay inside, is dependent upon how brave you think you can be. This will literally give you a makeover, a change of identity. Remember your manufacturing power. Don't wait for the orders to come in to start the lines, prepare them beforehand, and your biggest customer, you, will be satisfied.

OBSIDIAN

A short and sweet message: leave your fears at home and going enjoy life. There is something you're fighting, with or for, it seems to be both. A hollow feeling, a sense of nostalgia for bygone good things, a deep seated fear of past wounds resurfacing, making you relive the memories all over again. But with practice, you can leave those behind.

I see an arrow. There are two choices for you. One is aiming forward and let go, another is fighting back everything you encounter.

Relationships in general might be a source of headache/heartache for you. You feel everything so deeply, every interaction feels like a part of you is at stake. Your conviction can be so unmoving that every interaction feels like a battle. That you need to prove something, to protect something, to challenge something. It also makes you suspicious of people's intentions, what do their words mean? Is there a hidden meaning behind them? Are they sneering at me? You past colours your future, connections are felt through the lens of past experiences, you've become a veteran, in the war against the invasion of your inner world.

What propels you to take a step away from this habit is probably the realisation that you don't have to define yourself by your past nor your future. Let bygones be bygones, let the hereafter be uncertain. Pour yourself into the sea of shared hearts. Let yourself feel suffocated by the dense air of a crowd, your heart beating loudly while standing in front of a crowd, the agonising fear of judgement. All of these, while you feel like running away, are also those times when you're actually connected the most with life.

[unabashegirl]

my best friend's dad | part 1

Y/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.

Author's note: hello everyone, i hope you are all having a lovely night. As promised, here is a two-part one shot. I tried to make it one part, but as I wrote I realized I needed to give more context and build up the tension between Harry and Y/N.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the second part (+4K words) and much more :) thank you beforehand!

word count: 6.9K

warnings: talk about smut

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From the very first day, Y/N had doubts about the career she had chosen to study in college. To be truthful, she had picked journalism because she admired how polished the reporters looked on the news. Her uncertainty vanished the moment she met Scarlett Styles at the end of her freshman year. Meeting Scarlett made it all worthwhile. They met in one of those classes that was just a filler for the syllabus, where no one ever attended and the professor didn’t seem to care, giving everyone the same grade.

Since freshman year, they had been inseparable. Y/N admired Scarlett in many ways. She loved how Scarlett stood up for what she believed was right, fighting with grace and facts. Scarlett influenced Y/N and helped her gain the confidence she lacked. She was much different from her freshman self.

"Alright, what do you think?" Y/N asked as she finished tying the side strings of her bikini bottoms. "Be honest." Y/N had Facetimed Scarlett for the approval of her outfits for their upcoming trip.

"Love it. That's definitely your color. How many are you taking?" Scarlett was in England, having flown back home to see her grandma and meet her youngest cousin before flying to the Caribbean to meet Y/N.

"Ten?" Y/N asked as she wrapped her bathrobe around herself and slipped off the red bikini she had just tried on. "Is that too much?"

"I think that's too little," Scarlett giggled. "I think that's all we’re going to wear for those two weeks."

"Crap," Y/N said, pursing her lips as she looked for more options. "The rest of my bikinis are too skimpy. I might have to buy more."

"Just take those," Scarlett rolled her eyes, looking at her best friend through her phone. "Stop spending money. Your mom is going to have a heart attack when she sees the credit card bill."

"I can't! They're too tiny! Your dad is going to be there," Y/N complained as she held up one of the smallest bikinis. "I want to make a good impression. He’s going to think I’m a whore."

"Please! My dad is probably going to be locked up in the house, designing and drawing. We’re barely going to see him."

"Fine, but you have to stick up for me when he kicks me out of the rental for nudity," Y/N said, laughing along with Scarlett, who knew her father was likely too busy to pay attention to their outfits, even on vacation.

Y/N continued her packing, occasionally glancing at the screen to see Scarlett’s reactions. After sorting through a few more outfits, she plopped down on her bed with a sigh.

"I'm so excited," Y/N said, smiling at Scarlett. "A much-needed break."

"From all the partying," Scarlett laughed. "I'm actually looking forward to some quiet time away from all the nonsense."

"Have you talked to him? Has he texted you?" Y/N asked, referring to Scarlett's boyfriend, Henry. They had a fallout two days before the break when Scarlett told him he couldn’t go to the Bahamas with them.

"He's still giving me the cold shoulder," Scarlett shrugged, trying to act like she wasn't hurt, but Y/N could read her too easily. She could tell Scarlett was hurt and disappointed. "I’m just not ready for him to meet my dad. Why is it so hard for him to understand? He means everything to me. I don't bring every guy I date to meet my dad. It's disrespectful."

Henry and Scarlett had started going out four months ago after meeting at a dorm party.

"His reaction is very childish if you ask me," Y/N said. She could tell that they weren't going to last. Scarlett hated being restrained or forced to do something she didn’t agree with. "He’s your dad. You choose when is the right time to meet him."

"I feel like he's just using the excuse of meeting my dad to tag along on the trip," Scarlett revealed. "Why would he want to meet him when we’ve only just met?" Y/N nodded; she had thought about it too but had refrained from saying it.

"Time will only tell, Scar." Her best friend only nodded. After they hung up, Y/N felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. She finished packing and went straight to bed.

The day of the trip finally arrived. Y/N was getting some much-needed coffee and a snack when she was interrupted by a call from Scarlett.

"I'll never understand why people can be so slow through the TSA—"

"Y/N, please don’t kill me," she interrupted, her voice filled with urgency. Scarlett had a knot in her throat.

"What? What happened?"

"They aren't letting me board the plane. My passport expires in less than six months." She was embarrassed; nothing like this had ever happened to her. Scarlett usually checked everything multiple times. However, the one time she hadn’t was last night. "I've talked with my dad, and he's calling some people, but I'm going to miss my flight and probably the first week of the trip until I can renew it."

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on her. She was disappointed and felt like crying.

"Y/N? Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah," she cleared her throat, noticing that the barista was calling out to her. It was her turn to order. Y/N stepped aside and allowed the next person to go before her. She was no longer thirsty or hungry. "So, I’m just going to find someone to get my luggage back and go home."

"What? You aren’t going to get on the plane? Why not?"

"What am I going to do without you?"

"Relax, read a book, listen to music, get a tan and a massage, and wait until next week for me to get there. Don’t be silly," Scarlett stated the obvious. She was just calling to let Y/N know the reason for her absence, but that didn’t mean the entire trip was canceled. She was just going to be late.

"I don’t know, Scar…"

"I am not taking no for an answer, Y/N. You spent way too much money on your seat on that plane. You opted out of eating quite a few times just to be able to afford it. My dad is already there, so you won’t be completely alone."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn between her disappointment and Scarlett's insistence. "Okay, you’re right," she finally conceded. “but please hurry up”

“I will. I’ll miss you,” Scarlett replied. “I promise I’ll get on the flight first out as soon as I get my passport sorted. In the meantime, just try to enjoy yourself. It’s the Caribbean, after all.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to normalize her pulse after the panic attack that she had started having.

“I’ll try my best.”

“That's the spirit. Give my dad a hug for me and have a safe flight. Text me when you land”

“Love you. Bye”

After hanging up, Y/N forced herself to focus on the positive. The trip was a chance to unwind, and she needed to make the best out of it. She ordered her coffee, though her appetite hadn’t quite returned and headed towards her gate.

Y/N boarded the plane and found her seat and after stowing her carry- on, she settled into the window seat, gazing out at the bustling airport below.

Just as she was about to pull out her book, a tall, handsome man appeared beside her. "Looks like I'm your seatmate," he said with a friendly smile, gesturing to the seat next to her.

Y/N smiled back, noticing his warm hazel eyes and easygoing demeanor. "Great, nice to meet you," she replied.

"I'm Anthony," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

“Y/N," she said, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

As the plane took off, they struck up a conversation. Anthony was friendly and easy to talk to, and Y/N found herself enjoying his company. They talked about their reasons for going to the Bahamas, shared travel stories, and laughed about the little quirks of airplane travel.

"So, what's bringing you to the Bahamas?" Anthony asked after the plane reached cruising altitude.

"I'm meeting a best friend for spring break," Y/N explained. "She got held up with a passport issue, so I’m flying solo for now."

"That’s a bummer," Anthony said sympathetically, “I am also heading there for spring break with some friends. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. What are your plans for the trip?”

“A bit of everything, I guess. Relaxing, exploring and trying out some local food. You?”

“Pretty much the same. We’re staying at a resort, but I’m hoping to see more than just the touristy spots. I’ve heard the local culture is amazing.”

They continued chatting, sharing their interests and dreams. Anthony told her about his job in marketing, his love for surfing, and his plans to travel more. Y/N opened up about her studies, her passion for writing, and her excitement for the upcoming trip.

As the plane began its descent, Anthony turned to her with a smile. “Let me give you my number. In case you ever want to join us”.

"Sure," Y/N said, smiling back. She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his contact information.

“Feel free to text me if you want to hang out” Anthony said, hanging her phone back. “And if you ever want to try surging. I am your guy”

"I might take you up on that," Y/N said, slipping her phone into her bag.

Once the plane landed, they gathered their belongings and headed towards baggage claim together. "It was really nice meeting you," Y/N said as they reached the terminal.

"You too, Y/N. Have a great time, and hopefully, I’ll see you around."

"Definitely," Y/N replied, giving him a wave as they went their separate ways.

Scarlett had arranged for a driver to pick them up, so after she collected her luggage, she met with him by the exit doors of the airport.

As Y/N exited the bustling airport, she was greeted by a warm, tropical breeze and the vibrant colors of the Bahamas. Her driver, a cheerful man named Marcus, welcomed her with a friendly smile and helped load her luggage into a sleek black SUV. Once she was settled in the backseat, they set off toward the villa where she would be staying with Scarlett’s dad.

The drive began with a stretch through Nassau’s lively streets, brimming with a mix of local culture and tourist attractions. Y/N watched as vendors sold fresh fruits and handmade crafts from colorful stalls, and locals mingled with visitors in an atmosphere buzzing with energy. The smell of jerk chicken and conch fritters wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.

As they left the city behind, the scenery shifted to a more serene landscape. Palm trees lined the roads, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. The vibrant turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea came into view, sparkling under the bright midday sun. Y/N marveled at the clarity of the water, so inviting that she could hardly wait to dive in.

They passed through quaint villages with charming pastel-colored houses, each with its own unique character. Children played in the yards, and neighbors chatted over fences, giving the area a warm, community feel. Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her as they continued along the coastal road.

Y/N nodded, taking mental notes of places to explore once Scarlett arrived. The drive continued, and the road wound through lush tropical forests, alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, adding to the sensory delight.

As they neared the villa, the landscape became even more picturesque. The road led them up a gentle hill, providing breathtaking views of the ocean and the surrounding islands. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything.

Finally, they arrived at the villa. It was a stunning, two-story retreat perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. The architecture blended modern elegance with tropical charm, featuring large windows, spacious balconies, and a thatched roof. The garden was a paradise of vibrant flowers, exotic plants, and a sparkling infinity pool that seemed to merge with the ocean beyond.

Marcus helped Y/N with her bags and guided her inside. The interior of the villa was just as impressive as the exterior. The open-plan living area was filled with natural light, and decorated in soothing, coastal hues of blue and white. Comfortable, stylish furniture invited relaxation, and the large glass doors opened onto a terrace with panoramic ocean views.

That’s when she heard a heavy British accent say, “she is here. I’ll call you later. Let me know what they say. I love you”

Harry, Scarlett’s dad appeared from upstairs. “You must be Y/N” he said, walking over to her. “I am Harry. Welcome to our little paradise”. To say that Y/N’ was beyond surprised was an understatement. Slightly sunburned from a day in the Caribbean sun, his skin had taken on a warm, reddish hue that only accentuated his natural good looks. He was shirtless, revealing a toned, athletic build, with tattoos peeking from various places on his chest and arms. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, showcasing a casual, relaxed style. Harry’s tousled hair, still damp from a recent swim, fell in soft curls around his face, and he wore a pair of sunglasses that added a touch of mystery to his striking appearance. His easy smile and confident demeanor made him all the more attractive, embodying the perfect blend of laid-back island vibes

She had expected someone older and more conventional, not the youthful, charismatic man before her. He looked far too young to have a college-aged daughter.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, feeling a bit fluster. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Styles. It’s so beautiful here.”

“Call me Harry” He laughed softly, a sound as charming as his smile. “I hope you’ll feel at home”.

As he spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the easy confidence with which he carried himself was undeniably attractive.

She suddenly felt self-conscious, acutely aware of her travel-worn clothes and the fact that she probably smelled like the airplane. She smoothed her hair, hoping she didn't look as tired as she felt.

Harry seemed to sense her unease. "Long flight?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah, a bit," Y/N admitted, feeling a little dirty and disheveled beside him.

"Well, I can imagine you might want to freshen up. Your room has a great view and a nice big bathroom. Why don't you get settled in, and we'll have some lunch out here later?"

"That sounds perfect," Y/N said, grateful for his understanding.

Harry gave her a reassuring nod. "If you need anything, just let me know. Scarlett speaks very highly of you."

"Thank you," Y/N said, touched by his kindness. "I really appreciate it."

As she turned to head to her room, she caught herself glancing back at Harry, who had returned to lounging by the pool. His relaxed posture and the way he effortlessly fit into the tropical surroundings only added to his allure. Y/N shook her head, trying to focus. She was here to enjoy a vacation with her best friend, not get distracted by her best friend's dad, no matter how attractive and intriguing he was.

Once in her room, Y/N took a deep breath and started unpacking. The luxurious surroundings helped her relax, and as she stepped into the shower, she let the cold water wash away the travel grime and her lingering nerves. She knew this trip was going to be full of surprises, and meeting Harry was just the first of many.

After a refreshing shower, Y/N felt revitalized and ready to embrace the beauty of the Bahamas. She rummaged through her suitcase, deciding on an outfit for the evening. With a bit of confidence restored, she picked out a vibrant bikini that Scarlett had convinced her to buy. It was a flattering shade of coral that accentuated her curves and complemented her complexion. The bikini top offered just the right amount of support, enhancing her figure without being too revealing.

She took her time getting ready, applying a light layer of sunscreen and letting her hair dry naturally into soft waves. Y/N gave herself one last approving look in the mirror, feeling much better than she had after the flight. She slipped into a flowy cover-up and grabbed her favorite book before heading downstairs.

As she walked through the villa, she could hear the faint sound of music and the gentle hum of conversation from the terrace. Stepping outside, she saw Harry lounging by the pool, sipping a drink and reading something on his tablet. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening slightly as he took in her appearance.

“Better?”

Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of warmth feeling embarrassed by her appearance earlier.

“I though I’d take your advice and relax by the pool for a bit.” As she placed her book on the sunbed, just so she could let her cover-up slip off, revealing her bikini. Harry’s appreciative gaze didn’t go unnoticed and she felt a surge of confidence.

“Good” he replied, gesturing to the sunbed next to his. “I hope you applied some sunscreen. The sun here is ruthless”

“I did” She smiled and settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. She opened her book, trying to focus on the words, but she couldn't help but steal glances at Harry. He was even more attractive up close, with his sun-kissed skin and the tattoos that peeked out from his swim trunks. The way he effortlessly exuded confidence and charm was captivating.

"Good book?" Harry asked, breaking her reverie.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I’ve been meaning to finish it for a while.”

"What's it about?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"It’s a mystery novel," she explained, holding up the cover for him to see. "Keeps me on my toes.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves and the tropical breeze creating a soothing backdrop. Y/N felt a sense of contentment she hadn't expected. The rest of their first day was spent by the pool. Harry excused himself after dinner to work. On the other hand Y/N stayed outside to watch the sunset on her own.

“What are you working on?” Y/N asked the next day as she noticed Harry picking up his tablet and stylus.

“Designing a new building” Harry was the owner of an architectural firm. He spent most of his days, leaned over his design table, drawing.

“What kind of building is it?” Y/N said, genuinely impressed.

"It’s a mixed-use development," Harry replied, turning the tablet so she could see the screen. "It’s going to have retail spaces on the lower levels and residential units above. The idea is to create a community where people can live, work, and play all in one place."

Y/N leaned in closer, sliding her sunglasses down, admiring the detailed sketches and blueprints. “What’s your vision for it?”

Harry’s eyes lit up as he began to explain. “The design focuses on sustainability and integrating green spaces. There will be rooftop gardens, lots of natural light, and energy-efficient systems. I’m trying to create something that not only looks good but also feels good to live in.”

Y/N could hear the passion in his voice as he spoke, and she was fascinated by his creativity. “It sounds truly special”

“I hope it is” Harry said, smiling appreciatively.

Y/N watched as Harry continued to draw, the lines and shapes forming into intricate designs under his skilled hand. "How did you get into architecture?"

“I’ve always loved drawing and building things," Harry said, leaning back and gazing at the horizon. “When I was a kid, I’d spend hours with sketchbooks. It just felt natural to pursue architecture. I studied it in college and worked my way up through different firms before starting my own. How about you? What are you majoring in?" Harry asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Y/N frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of disappointment that she didn't share the same passion for her career choice as he did. "Journalism," she replied with a hint of hesitation, her gaze momentarily drifting away. She took a deep breath, feeling a pang of uncertainty as she compared her own career path to Harry's evident passion for architecture.

"It's... it's something I chose because I thought it would be interesting," she admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of honesty and self-reflection. "But lately, I've been feeling like maybe it's not what I'm truly passionate about."

Harry listened attentively, his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said gently. “It’s okay. You are still young and it takes time to find that passion. Have you though about what inspires you?”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I've always enjoyed writing and telling stories," she admitted. "But I haven't found that one thing that really lights a fire in me, like architecture does for you."

Harry smiled warmly. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. You still got a long way ahead of you and sometimes that passion reveals itself unexpectedly” he said.

Y/N felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she listened to Harry's encouraging words. She realized that she didn't have to have everything figured out right away. This trip, with its new experiences and conversations like this one, was already helping her see things from a different perspective.

After a while, Harry put down his tablet and stretched. "I think it’s time for a swim down at the beach. Care to join me?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

They made their way through a winding path bordered by lush foliage, leading to a secluded stretch of beach that seemed untouched by the usual tourist crowds. The soft sand greeted their feet as they approached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of the waves creating a soothing soundtrack. Harry glanced around with a smile.

“Breathtaking as always” he remarked, gesturing to the pristine beach.

Y/N nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over her. The beach was indeed stunning, with its turquoise waters and powdery white sand stretching into the distance. It felt like a hidden paradise, far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

"I can see why Scarlett loves it here," Y/N said, taking in the beauty of the surroundings.

The next day dawned with a soft, rosy glow creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Harry woke before the sun, as was his routine, slipping on his running gear quietly so as not to disturb the peacefulness of the villa. He tiptoed downstairs, the floor cool under his feet, and headed for the front door. As he passed through the living room, he glanced out onto the terrace.

There, on one of the sunbeds, Y/N lay curled up under a blanket, her silhouette softened by the early morning light. She had fallen asleep waiting for the sunrise, her peaceful expression making her look even more serene. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He found it endearing

Resisting the urge to wake her, Harry quietly slipped outside and started his jog along the quiet streets. The rhythmic pounding of his footsteps helped clear his mind, but try as he might, thoughts of Y/N kept intruding. He couldn't shake the image of her in that attractive bikini, her laughter echoing in his mind from the day before. It wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated him; it was her warmth, her intelligence, and the easy way they connected.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Harry quickened his pace, pushing himself harder. He hadn't expected to be so affected by Y/N's presence, and he chastised himself for dwelling on thoughts that felt inappropriate given their relationship. He had spent the previous day enjoying her company, sharing stories, and learning about her dreams and ambitions. Yet, now he found himself unable to shake the attraction he felt towards her.

By the time he returned to the villa, the sun was fully risen, casting a bright light over the tropical landscape. Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts as he cooled down. He decided to take a cold shower, hoping the shock of cold water would help clear his mind. As he stood under the refreshing spray, he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his inner turmoil. He didn't want to complicate things or make Y/N uncomfortable during their time together.

He just couldn’t get that damn bikini off his mind. The one she had wore the day before. The red color complemented her sun-kissed skin beautifully, accentuating her curves in all the right places. His hand creeped down and grabbed throbbing cock, trying get some release from the torture that he was experiencing. Her confidence and natural grace shone through, making her even more captivating. He admired the way she moved with a relaxed elegance, her laughter and smiles lighting up the surroundings. Every detail, from the way her hair fell in gentle waves to the sparkle in her eyes as she talked animatedly, only added to her allure.

He couldn’t help imagining her naked, under him, moaning, begging for him. Harry though about how deliciously tight and warm she could feel around him. He thought about how she would taste and his mouth water. He didn’t last long. As he allowed the water to wash him off, he couldn’t help feeling ashamed. Ashamed that he was acting like a schoolboy. He was forty-four years old and fantasizing about his daughter's best friend while she slept downstairs.

part 2

[joelmillerisapunk]

Pretty Boy Sub!Javi x F!Reader

Masterlist ★ Wordcount: 4.2K

📽 —★ Summary: The Christmas you made Javi your sub

-or -

javi teases you at the dinner table and you make him pay for it

📽 —★ Warnings: 18+, mdni, javi is a sub, lots of edging an obscene amount, javi is called pretty boy, good boy, m!oral receiving, javi is tied up with a ribbon that is stronger than steel lol, reader wears a dress and has breasts

📽 —★ Notes: thanks to @thundermartini I wrote this at 10am in a Costco on Christmas Eve waiting for them to have chickens ready to pick up because what else was I supposed to do... so anyway, thank you and @milla-frenchy for reading and being the best Javi girls around. I love you both so much. ty @saradika-graphics for your amazing dividers as always

The Christmas dinner table is a picture of warmth and cheer, twinkling lights reflecting off wine glasses and silverware, the low hum of conversation blending with the soft holiday music playing in the background. Everyone seems caught up in the festive spirit—everyone except Javier Peña.  

He sits beside you, his broad shoulders relaxed in a way that’s almost deceptive, his dark eyes glinting with something far less innocent than holiday cheer. The corner of his mouth lifts in a knowing smirk as his hand disappears beneath the tablecloth.  

It starts innocently enough—a light brush of his fingers against your knee as he leans over to pour you another glass of wine. But then his hand doesn’t retreat. Instead, it inches higher, his calloused fingertips drag along the inside of your thigh, setting your skin on fire even through the thin fabric of your dress. If anything he could say you were asking for it, not wearing underwear at the table.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep your expression neutral and your hand tightens around the stem of your glass. Javier leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear under the pretense of saying something.  

“You’re awfully quiet, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Something wrong?”  

You shoot him a pointed look but his fingers slide higher, just grazing the edge of your folds, and it takes everything in you not to let out a soft gasp.  

The chatter at the table continues, oblivious to the silent battle happening under the tablecloth. Javier’s thumb presses lightly against you, slow moving, sending a pulse of heat straight through you. You squirm slightly, and his smirk widens.  

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dripping with faux concern.  

You don’t answer, but your hand drops to your lap, brushing his wrist away just long enough to regain your composure. When your fork slips from your hand and clatters to the floor, Javier barely hides his amusement.  

“I’ll get it,” you say sweetly, pushing back your chair and slipping under the table.  

The faint flicker of triumph in his expression vanishes as your hand slides up his thigh, your nails dragging over the denim of his jeans. Javier tenses, his breath hitching when your fingers press against the bulge straining against the fabric.  

“Careful papi,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, your lips brushing the edge of his belt as you work the button open. His hand twitches as he grips the tablecloth, but he doesn’t stop you.  

You free him, your hand wrapping around him with a firm, teasing stroke. His hips shift slightly, a faint curse slips from his lips as you run your tongue along his length, savoring his quiet reaction.  

“Everything alright, Javier?” one of the relatives asks, and Javier clears his throat, forcing a smile.  

“Yeah,” he replies with a tight voice. “Just, uh, enjoying the food.”  

You suppress a smile, your movements are languid, making it as hard as possible for him to focus. His thighs tense and his fingers twitch against the table as he struggles to keep his composure.  

Satisfied with your small victory, you tuck him back into his jeans and rejoin the table, your expression as innocent as ever. Javier’s dark eyes follow you as you sit back down, smoldering with a silent promise of retribution.  

Later that night, after the dishes are cleared and the guests have gone, you take Javier’s hand and pull him into the bedroom. The way his eyes follow you, heated and curious, tells you he knows something is coming—but not exactly what.  

“Sit,” you command softly, nodding toward the bed.  

He arches a brow at the sudden authority in your tone but obeys, settling on the edge of the mattress with his legs spread, casual yet confident. You hand him a small box, wrapped neatly with a red bow, and watch as curiosity flickers across his face.  

“What’s this?” he asks, tugging at the ribbon.  

“Your Christmas gift,” you reply, your voice deceptively sweet.  

When the lid comes off, his expression changes. His eyes widen slightly, and then he chuckles as he pulls out a long length of red silk ribbon and a smaller spool of the same material. A tiny bottle of oil is nestled beneath it.  

“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” he says, his smirk curling upward.  

“I had to get creative,” you reply, stepping closer. “You’ve been a very bad boy tonight, Javi.”  

“Oh, have I?” he drawls, amusement flickering in his tone as he eases back onto the bed, propping himself up with his hands. His eyes glint with a playful challenge. “And what exactly did I do this time?”

You slide a hand up his chest, wrapping it around his neck and  lean in close enough that your breath fans across his lips. “You know exactly what you did,” you whisper. “Teasing me under the table like that? Getting me all worked up in front of everyone?”  

His grin grows wider. “You liked it.”  

“I did,” you admit, pulling back before he can kiss you. “But you don’t get to tease me like that and get away with it. Tonight, I’m in charge, papi.”  

You step back, letting your gaze sweep over him as you tug at the hem of his shirt. “This is in my way,” you say, pulling it up and over his head. He raises his arms obediently letting you take charge.  

Your fingers slowly trail over his chest, down his stomach, following the trail that leads lower to the waistband of his jeans. “These, too,” you murmur, undoing the button and zipper.  

“Eager, are we?”

“Quiet,” you reply with a smirk, tugging his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion. His cock springs free, hard and already glistening at the tip, you take a moment to appreciate him.  

“Mmm look at you, now lie back handsome.” 

There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes—he loves control, loves the chase—but there’s also curiosity. Slowly, he leans back against the pillows, his broad shoulders sinking into the mattress as he looks up at you.

You climb onto the bed, straddling his hips, and slide your hands up his arms, guiding them above his head. “Let’s make sure you don’t forget who’s in charge tonight,” you say, as you wrap the red ribbon around his wrists and tie him to the headboard.  

“Red ribbon, huh? Very festive hermosa.”  

“I'm not done,” you reply, holding up the smaller spool. His eyes darken as he watches you unwind a length of it.  

“What are you planning to do with that?” he asks.  

You smirk, trailing the ribbon down his chest, lower and lower, until it brushes against his growing erection. “This,” you say, wrapping the silky material around his already weeping cock, tying it snugly, the bow perched just below the tip.  

Javier groans and his hips jerk slightly. “You’re killing me.”

“Oh no,” you purr, sliding your fingers down the length of him, your touch featherlight. “Not yet. But you’ll wish I would.”  

You smirk and watch his eyes burn with hunger, his body already taut with tension. You get off him admiring your beautiful sunkissed gift before slowly reaching for the hem of your dress, dragging it up inch by inch until the lacy bra underneath is revealed. His nostrils flare, his jaw clenching as he fights against the silk binding his wrists, desperate to touch you.  

"Look at you," you murmur, letting the dress fall to the floor, your bra quickly following. "So eager, so needy. You can’t wait to bury your face between my tits, can you?"  

"Fuck, no, I can’t," he growls, his voice rough. His cock twitches against the ribbon, the sight of you makes him ache.  

You step forward, leaning over him just enough that your breasts brush against his lips. His tongue flicks out instantly, trying to catch one of your nipples, but you pull back with a grin.  

“Not so fast,” you say, cupping your breasts and squeezing them together, the movement making his gaze darken with lust. “You think you’ve earned this, Javi? After teasing me all night? No, baby. You’re gonna have to work for it.”  

He lets out a guttural groan, his hips jerking as he strains against the headboard. “Let me taste you, baby. Fuck—please.”  

You laugh softly, dragging your fingers over your nipples, tweaking them until they’re stiff, your breath hitching slightly at your own touch. His eyes are locked on you, his desperation is palpable.  

"Look at how hard you are," you taunt, glancing down at his cock, admiring the pretty ribbon straining against his shaft. "You’re throbbing just watching me, aren’t you?"  

“You’re fucking killing me,” he growls, his voice is rough with frustration.  

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” you reply, leaning down again to press your chest against his face. This time, you move them against his lips, letting him feel the softness he craves but pulling back just as he tries to latch on again.  

“Bet you want to suck on these tits so bad, don’t you?” you purr, dragging a nipple across his cheek. "Bet you’d bury your face right here, lose yourself completely, wouldn’t you?”  

“Fuck, yes," he rasps, his voice breaking. "Let me, baby, please. I’ll do anything."  

You trail your fingers down his chest, over his stomach, until you’re lightly stroking his cock. His hips buck at the touch, his head tilting back as he groans.  

“You’ll get what you want,” you promise, gripping his shaft just enough to make him gasp, “but not until I’m done with you. And baby, I’m gonna take my sweet time ruining you tonight.”

“Please,” he groans again, as you straddled him. His voice drips with need, more desperate than ever. The sound of his beautiful, breathless whines sends a shiver down your spine—you think you could grow addicted to them.

“Please, what?” you ask, leaning down to kiss his neck, letting your teeth graze his skin.  

“Let me touch you,” he murmurs, his tone is rough with need like a man that has been starved for far too long and it turns you on even more. “I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel so good, baby, just let me—”  

“No,” you interrupt, with a firm voice.   

He groans. “You’re torturing me.”  

“Good, you deserve it.”  

You shift your hips, grinding against him slowly, the friction drawing a strangled moan from his lips. His head falls back against the pillows, eyes closing as he fights to stay still.  

“You’re so sensitive, poor baby,” you tease, your nails grazing his skin as you move lower. “I could make you come just like this, couldn’t I?”  

“Try me,” he challenges, never one to back down.

You smirk, sliding off him, in between his legs, your tongue darts out to flick over the head of his cock—a quick, teasing touch that leaves him trembling. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hips jerking as he tries to chase your touch.  

“Ah, ah,” you chide, sitting back. “If you can’t behave, I’ll have to tie your legs, too.”  

You smirk as you settle between his legs, your fingers tracing the red ribbon tied snugly around his cock.  “You look so pretty like this, Javi,” you say as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his length.  

“Pretty? I don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”  

“First time for everything,” you tease, your lips brushing against him again. “And right now, you’re all mine, pretty boy.”  

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond—not when you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head slowly. His reaction is immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his thighs tensing beneath your hands.  

Fuck, hermosa,”his voice is strained, thick with need, desperate for more. “Stop teasing. Just—let me—”

You hum around him, taking him deeper, the ribbon soaking with his arousal and your spit. Your hand strokes the base of his cock in tandem with your mouth. The sounds he makes are delicious—low groans, muffled curses, the occasional helpless whimper when your tongue finds just the right spot.  

But just when his breathing starts to hitch, just when his hips start to buck up slightly, you pull away with a soft pop.  

“Goddamn it. Baby I can't do this, please. You already got me begging what more do you want?”

You smirk, enjoying his strangled pleas. You wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb. “You don’t get to come until I say so.” 

You return to your slow, torturous rhythm—taking him into your mouth, sucking and stroking him just to the brink before pulling back. Each time, his curses grow louder, more desperate, until his voice is raw with need and he's begging.  

“Please,” he groans. “Please, baby, just let me—”  

“No,” you interrupt, with a sharp tone. “You don’t get to beg your way out of this, Javi. You’re going to take it, just like I did at the dinner table.”  

His eyes blaze with frustration and arousal, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You crawl up his body, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips immediately, tasting himself on you as he groans into the kiss.

“Feel that?” you whisper against his mouth, grinding your soaked cunt against his cock, the ribbon still snug around his shaft. “Feel how close you are? How much I want you?”

You shift again, letting the head of his cock brush against your entrance, your wetness coats the tip. “You’re so close to getting everything you want, Javi. But you have to behave.”

“I’ll behave,” he promises. “Just—please, baby. Just once. Let me taste you.”

You lean over him, letting one nipple graze his lips. "Once," you whisper, your voice dripping with warning. "You get one lick, or I’ll stop. Completely. Do you understand?"

His eyes burn with hunger as he nods, and you lower yourself just enough for his mouth to capture your nipple. His tongue flicks over the sensitive peak, and you moan softly, arching into him.

The second his tongue flicks out and tries to suck harder, you pull back abruptly. “That’s all you get,” you tease, dragging your fingers through your dripping folds, coating them in your slick arousal before pressing them firmly against his lips. “Taste that, baby? Taste how fucking soaked you’ve made me?”  

Javier growls, sucking your fingers into his mouth greedily, his tongue swirling around them like a man starved.  

“You’re fucking merciless,” he rasps, his voice raw, thick with desperation.  

“Merciless?” you echo, smirking as you slide your slick fingers down to the base of his cock, stroking him slowly, torturously. “No, baby, it's just you don’t get to come until you’re begging me like your life depends on it. And even then…” You pause, leaning in close so your lips brush his ear. “I might just make you wait even longer.”  

His breath hitches, his head falling back against the pillow as he bites out a string of curses. "Fuck, baby, please. You can’t do this to me.”  

“Oh, I can,” you purr, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss, your tongue teasing his as you taste the mix of your arousal and his desperation. “And you love every second of it, don’t you? You love being completely at my mercy. You want me to let you come, Javi? Maybe I’ll just ride that pretty cock of yours until I come and leave you tied up like this, dripping and desperate.”

Satisfied with his desperation, you shift, crawling up his body until you’re straddling his face. His eyes widen slightly, and then his lips curl into a knowing smirk.  

“Oh, you want this nena?”  

Shhhh,” you snap, your grip on his hair tightening as you yank his head back. His lips part, his breathing heavy as his eyes burn into yours. “You don’t get to talk. That mouth has one purpose right now, and it’s not to speak.”

You lower yourself onto his face, thighs bracketing his head, and he immediately dives in like a man starved. The first swipe of his tongue against your slick folds draws a sharp gasp from your lips, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you grind down against him.

His muffled groan vibrates against your core, and the sound sends a shiver up your spine. His tongue works you with precision—long, slow strokes that have you trembling, alternating between licking and sucking on your clit until your head falls back, your hips moving on their own.

“Good boy,” you murmur, your voice low and breathy as you roll your hips against his face. “That’s it. Just like that. Eat me like you mean it, Javi.”

A growl rumbles from his chest, muffled by your thighs, as his tongue plunges inside. His nose presses against your clit, and the way he moves beneath you—licking, sucking, devouring—makes your thighs shake as you grip his hair tighter.

“Fuck, you’re so greedy,” you moan, your nails raking over his scalp. “You love being smothered by me, don’t you? Love how I taste, how I feel?”

Javier’s response is a guttural growl, his lips locking around your swollen clit as he sucks hard, pulling a strangled cry from your throat.

“Look at you,” you pant, grinding harder, your thighs squeezing his flushed cheeks. “You’d suffocate just to get one more taste of me, wouldn’t you? Such a desperate, filthy little thing.”

His moan vibrates against your cunt, and you let out a breathless laugh, tugging his head back just enough to let him catch a fleeting gasp of air before pushing him right back where you want him. “Not until I’m shaking, Javi. You don’t get to breathe until I say you can.”

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, and you cry out his name, your body arching as your thighs tremble against his cheeks. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t let up—his tongue keeps working you through every shudder, every pulse of pleasure, until you’re left panting and boneless.

Finally, you lift yourself off him, your legs unsteady as you look down at him. His face is flushed, his lips shiny and swollen, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

“You’re such a good boy for me,” you murmur, dragging your fingers over his slick, damp hair. “You’d do anything for this, wouldn’t you?”

He licks his lips, his gaze dark and feral as he nods. “Anything,” he rasps, his voice raw and wrecked.

“Good boy,” you murmur, stroking his jaw. “You earned that one.”  

Javier smirks up at you. “Can I touch you now?”  

“No,” you reply, sliding back down his body until you’re straddling his hips. His cock is still painfully hard, weeping with need.

You trail your fingers down his chest, your touch featherlight as you reach for the ribbon. “Now,” you say, your voice teasing, “let’s unwrap my real present.”

Javier’s groan is low and desperate as you untie the ribbon with deliberate care, letting it fall to the side. His cock stands free, thick and glistening, and you take a moment to admire him.

“Such a pretty gift,” you murmur, wrapping your hand around him and giving a slow stroke before positioning yourself over him. “You’ve waited long enough,” you say, sinking down onto him slowly, savoring the way he stretches you.  

Javier groans, his head falling back against the pillows. “Fuck, nena,” he mutters. “You feel so—”  

“Quiet,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest. “Be good for me papi and you'll get a treat.”

He nods and you start to move, your hips roll in slow, deliberate circles. The friction is exquisite, and the way his eyes darken as he watches you is enough to make you feel drunk on power.  

“You’re so good for me,” you murmur as your nails drag down his chest. “Taking everything I give you, just like a good boy should.”  

“Ah,” you warn, pressing him back down when his hips buck up again. “You don’t get to move unless I say so.”  

“Cariño,” he groans, his voice a mix of frustration and need.  

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. “If you’re a good boy,” you whisper, “I'll let you come.”  

You adjust your hips slightly, taking him deeper, drawing a strangled groan from his lips. His jaw tightens, but he obeys your command to stay still, though you can feel the tension in his body as he fights the urge to take over.  

“That’s it,” you purr, your fingers trailing down his sides, nails grazing his skin. “You’re learning.”  

His dark eyes lock onto yours, smoldering with restrained desire. “You’re making this harder than it has to be,” he murmurs.

“Good,” you reply, rolling your hips again, the pace slow enough to keep him on the edge without giving him relief, you lean down closer to his face. “You deserve it for what you pulled tonight, might just sit still and keep your cock warm all night.”  

A low growl rumbles in his chest. “You’re being a brat hermosa, I'm gonna return this favor later.”  

“I know,” you say with a smug smile. “But you like it, don’t you?”  

Instead of answering, he lifts his head just enough to nip at your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin. The heat of his breath sends a shiver through you, but you don’t let him distract you.  

“Careful,” you warn, your nails dragging over his chest hard enough to leave faint red marks. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”  

His head falls back onto the pillow with a frustrated groan. “No, don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” He begs you.

You tilt your head, pretending to consider his plea. “I don’t know,” you say, tightening your grip on his shoulders as you grind down harder. “You’ve been awfully bossy for someone tied up.”  

He grits his teeth, his hips shifting involuntarily beneath you. “I’ll be good,” he promises, his tone desperate now. “I’ll do whatever you want, just—don’t stop.”  

Your smirk widens. “Whatever I want?”  

“Anything,” he breathes. “Just tell me.”  

You pause your movements, watching as frustration and arousal war in his expression. His cock twitches inside you, and the sight of him so undone and needy sends a thrill through you.  

“Then you’re going to stay just like this,” you command. “No moving, no talking unless I say so. Got it?”  

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and nods.  

“Good,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.  

You resume your slow, deliberate rhythm, rolling your hips in a way that leaves you both gasping. Every movement is calculated to draw out his pleasure without letting him fall over the edge.  

You lean forward, dragging your lips along the column of his throat, your teeth grazing his pulse point. His body arches beneath you, and you feel the control he’s so used to having slip further and further away.  

“Please,” he rasps again, his voice thick with need.  

“Please what?”  

“Let me come,” he groans, the words ripped from him. “I need it baby. I can’t—”  

You cut him off with a sharp roll of your hips that has him biting back a curse. “Shhh pretty boy. I know you're hurting, I got you, don't worry, but you need to be quiet for me.” 

Javier’s chest heaves, his dark eyes pleading with you, but you don’t relent. 

His entire body is taut like a bowstring, his lips part as if to speak, but no words come out—just a low, guttural sound that makes you shiver.  

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” you murmur, your nails raking lightly over his chest. “You can feel it, can’t you?”  

“Fuck, yes,” he chokes out, his head thrown back as he teeters on the brink.  

You slow your movements again, watching as frustration clouds his features. His hips jerk upward in a desperate attempt for more friction, but you press him back down with a firm hand on his chest.  

“No moving,” you remind him, your voice a soft but stern command.  

Javier’s growl is deep and feral, but he forces himself to obey, his body trembling with the effort it takes to stay still.  

Finally, when you decide he’s suffered enough, you quicken your pace, your hips grinding down on him with a purpose. His entire body tenses beneath you, his breaths coming in harsh, uneven gasps.  

“That’s it,” you purr, leaning down to nip at his earlobe. “I want you to come for me, Javi. Show me how good you can be.”  

The permission is all he needs. With a strangled groan, his release crashes over him, his body shuddering violently beneath you. You don’t stop moving, drawing every last wave of pleasure from him until he’s a trembling, panting mess.  

You finally slow to a stop, your body still trembling from your own lingering aftershocks. Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to his lips, savoring the way he melts into it.  

“Good boy,” you murmur against his mouth, your fingers tracing the faint red marks on his wrists as you untie him.  

Javier groans softly, his arms falling to his sides as he gazes up at you with a dazed, satisfied expression. “You’re going to be the death of me, cariño,” he mutters.  

You grin, brushing a strand of hair from his damp forehead. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”  

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO. ( HOTD x READER ) [ FINAL PART ]

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Niece! Targ! ( Strong ) Reader suggest song to listen to whilst reading: Like Real People Do by Hozier or Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives prompt : would you be open to writing a part3 for like real people do where they both find out that y/n's pregnant so aegon genuinely wants to be a better person for her and their kid, and wants to prove it to her. she still hasn't forgiven him and she's pregnant and moody so one day they have a similar fight like in part 1 but this time its her who's telling him to stay away from her. they stop talking to each other and during that time aegon realizes how he made her feel when he said all those things. her pregnancy gets harder for her and one day she faints and is put on bed rest so aegon slowly starts befriending her and falls for her but on the other hand she's still cautious of him. he's by her side when she gives birth and through raising their child together they finally start having a normal relationship and on a feast held for their baby they finally patch up and make love afterwards??? ty ❤️❤️❤️ word count: 1, 000+ words

It was now Aegon that looked for you when he entered a room. It was now Aegon that was patient. It was now Aegon that was met with sneers and glares. It was now Aegon would dote on you, no matter how many times you snapped at him to leave you be. A bitter twist of fate. It killed him. It was worse than dagger or dragonfire. You, the one person who had treated him with so much kindness, had finally run up. But, it was a fate he had created himself. 

He gave you your time. He slept in separate bed chambers. He ate alone in his chambers. He avoided small council meetings when you sat in. He was just alone. His Mother was livid at him for his treatment towards you. His Grandsire was even more livid, condemning him for ruining years of planning and plotting with his foolishness. His siblings had been distant, Aemond purposely bumping shoulders with him or tripping him when they passed by each other. 

Then a Maester came to him. Four simple words that made him want to fling himself from Maegor’s Holdfast. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child. She is with child.  She is with child. 

You were with child. His child. Exactly two moons, not long enough for anything to show. It all made sense. It all made fucking sense now, on why were you so keen on tending to him. On why you attempted to mend the distance. On why you tried so hard with him. It was all for the sake of the babe that was growing in your belly. It killed him. You were trying so hard to not repeat history. And he had gone out, fucking it all up. 

Tucking his hand behind his back, he stares at the door of your bedchambers, attempting to muster up some courage. You were four moons along now in your pregnancy. He could only imagine what you looked like now. Would you have a tiny bump now? Would you have that glow that many pregnant women had? Would you be miserable? Would you detest him and the babe? Would you damn him to the seven hells for having to carry a babe made from hate and duty? 

“Come on, come on, stop being a coward.” He murmurs, attempting to hype myself up.

You ruined her. You fucking ruined her. It was all your doing, the voice in his head says.

“Come on, come on..” He fusses with his hair and doublet, attempting to fix his appearance.

She hates you. She hates you just as everyone else does. Just leave her be. Leave her alone. You’ll only just worsen things. You’ll break her just as you do to everyone else, the voice taunts.

Flattening out the wrinkles in his doublet, he fidgets with the gold livery collar chain, fixing the gold and emerald dragon pendant. Looking over at a polished mirror on the wall, he looks at his reflection with wide eyes, sharply turning around to face it. Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, he anxiously smoothes out his hair, the strands of white hair all greasy and a mess.

Gods, damn it! Why did no one tell him how bad his hair looked?! Had he been walking around the Red Keep like this the whole damn time?! Desperately attempting to tame his hair, the loud creaking of a door opening fills the air, making him freeze. Looking towards the door in dread, there you stood, eyes racking him up and down like a provoked dragon. 

“Why are you standing at my door like a fool?” You ask, only keeping the door open a crack.

“Um, I…I missed you?” He blubbers out, sounding like a complete and utter fool. 

“You. Missed. Me?” You ask agonizingly slow. 

“Yes..?” He sheepishly smiles, the words coming out as more of a question. 

“Why?”

Watching you open the door just a inch more, he can see the soft periwinkle of your maternity gown, soft silk with gold embroidery on the neckline and hem. It was the same one that your Mother had worn a few years ago after giving birth to your youngest brother Joffrey.

Gods, that shade of blue looked beautiful on you. Slowly taking in the parts of you he could see, he chews on his bottom lip, fiddling with his wedding ring. You were beautiful, strong willed, stubborn, and as fierce as a dragon. He felt like the wee lamb that had been given to you to eat. 

“I..Um, why would I not? You are my wife and I..”

“Oh, really? Now, I am your wife? I thought I was just the burden, the thing you crawled to when you needed your cock wet..” You mock, repeating the same insults he had sneered at you over the years. 

“It was a mistake, me saying all of that to you.” He looks down shamefully, “I am, truly, sorry for what I have done.” 

“I take it the Maester’s have told you already. Tis’ quite pathetic that only now you wish to rekindle, all because I am with child. You would still be gorging yourself fat on wine if it was not for that.” You snip back, unimpressed.

Opening his mouth to argue back, he stops himself at the last second, a cruel insult on the tip of his tongue that threatened to come out. No. No. No. He would not do that. He would just sit there and take it. It took weeks to get you to even look at him, he would not ruin this now. He could not allow it. Gulping as his heart skips a beat, his hands grow clammy, watching as you open the door a little more to reveal the tiny baby bump. It was small, just noticeable. 

A clear sign you were still in your early months of pregnancy. But, it was all he could see. You were with his child. His heir. A tiny part of him wanted to reach out and touch it, to see if he could feel the tiniest of kicks yet. He had seen so many couples in Court doing things like that, touching the baby bump and then giggling at the feeling of kicks. He wanted to do that. He wanted to do that with you. 

“No, I..I, um, have been wanting to give you your time.”

“Then, why did you come here today?” You ask, face softening even so slightly.

“I..I suppose I had hoped that we could speak, and I could ask you how you fared so far. If there is anything, absolutely anything, that I can do to ease any pain you feel. I can even have a raven sent to your Mother if that would please you⎯” He rambles on, the words spilling out like vomit. 

“Stop talking. Just, stop talking, Aegon.” 

“I can stop talking. I can stop talking for the rest of my life is that is what you⎯” He rambles on, unable to stop the words from spilling out. 

“Aegon!” You repeat, a little louder. 

Watching your nose softly wrinkle up in irritation, you reach out for him, covering his mouth with your hand. The words instantly die on his tongue. His heart skips a beat, his breathing growing ragged. You were touching him. For the first time in weeks, or was it months, you were touching him. Finding himself melting into your touch, he stares up at you like an obedient dog.

“If not for my sake, then for the babe, let us..” You look like you were dreading saying it aloud, “Let us try again. No more fighting. No more silence.” 

“I..I would love that.” He stutters, cheek heating up. 

“I do not wish for this babe to grow up with the same tension we had⎯”

“It won’t, you have my word. I will do as you ask of me.” He vows, a dead serious expression on his face.

He meant it. He meant every word. Watching you shake your head with a sigh, you open the door a little more, sauntering inside of your bedchambers. He resists the urge to frown. What happened? You two were on seemingly good terms. Standing in the doorway like a kicked puppy, you turn to look at him, hand resting atop of your tiny pregnant belly. Had he done something wrong?

“Stop standing there like a fool and come inside.” You crack the tiniest of smiles, “My feet are aching from standing for so long.”

“Coming, coming.” 

“Now, what dull names did you come up with for the babe? Or are you going to name him 'boy' just as you do all of your squires?” You ask, a flicker of your old self returning back.

"Oi! It was one time!"

---

this little series is done done, no more, and i love it soooooo much..

[genacity]

DAY FIVE. FEVERISH

ft. kaeya alberich — genshin impact

as a werewolf, it’s hard to control your animalistic urges as is. but while in a heat; dizzy and restless and constantly feverish with your tease of a boyfriend around, it just gets that much more difficult.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. amab! werewolf! reader, breeding kink, heat, anal pen, “monsterfucking”, spanking, belly bulge, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy, slight feminization (using “mother” for kaeya, talking about carrying the reader’s child), reader can be viewed as gn because there is no gender-specific vocabulary except the male anatomy lol

an. hello everyone i’m back, ty for all the kind words you all sent to me! this was not proofread so don’t make fun of me for any errors. i don’t read my shit b4 i post it. enjoy!!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

heats are the worst time of the month, you think.

when your brain is a constant blur; images running into themselves and you can barely make out what is or isn’t. voices make your head pound and your body is always on fire, with hands sweating a downpour and you can’t help but shed your clothing the moment you step into your shared apartment with your boyfriend, kaeya.

kaeya. that’s right, the love of your life— kaeya alberich was the damndest thing that’s ever happened to you. when you first met he was such an angel. gentle with a sweet tongue and smooth words that made your heart race.

when you first told him of your origins as a werewolf a few weeks after you started talking, he told you he saw you all the same. not as a monster like everyone else did.

and when he experienced your first heat about a month after you started dating, he learned something new about himself.

he liked it rough.

rough with the way you’d manhandle him, tossing him around into different positions to stuff him full just the way he liked after he teased you all day.

rough with the way you shoved him down onto your shared bed, quickly tearing his shirt apart— quite literally as the buttons flung off of the fabric and he let out a dissatisfied sound.

“that was my favorite shirt,” kaeya breathed, watching as your big hands fussed with his belt buckle “you’ll have to pay for that, y’know.”

“oh, i’ll pay for it.” you grumbled, swiftly tugging his pants off and discarding them onto the floor with his belt. quickly pushing his legs apart and rushing to press your lips and teeth to his exposed chest and skin.

he let out a shaky breath as your lips left marks on his skin. deep purpling marks and outlines of sharp canines messy along his collarbone. your hands crept down to his twitching cock, but swiftly passing it as your attention was focused… elsewhere.

“gonna prep you, kaeya.” you muttered against his burning skin before looking up for approval. “gonna prep you good so you can take my cock, m’kay?”

he nodded, and you continued. your large fingers began to work him open, making your lover gasp and clench tightly around the two digits inside of his hole.

kaeya felt his own thoughts blur. your thick, long fingers working in and out of him, making his body tense up with every thrust. it doesn’t take much to work him up— the smooth-talking captain really isn’t as suave as he thinks.

by the time you’ve fucked him open he’s already melting. biting his bottom lip to silence any sounds that may slip past his lips.

“ah… darling,” he whispered before being cut off by a whine. “please, i’m ready for you.”

“are you sure?” you asked, voice almost a purr, deep and rumbling in your chest. kaeya nodded eagerly, and a smirk splayed onto your lips. “you’ve spurred me on quite a bit. i won’t be gentle.”

“i don’t care,” he shook his head. “i want you. please?”

and so you positioned yourself right. throwing his slender legs over your shoulders and pressing your tip to his entrance.

he thought you’d never give in. kaeya opened his mouth to protest, to whine. but never got to for he felt your length split him nearly into two. you forced yourself in and he keened, head thrown back and hands grasping for the pillows behind his head as you began to fuck into him at a relentless pace.

“gonna fuck you full,” you panted, the smell of sweat and sex leaving the both of you breathless. “this what you wanted, huh? wanted me to use you ‘til you can’t speak?”

all he could muster was a breathy whimper. too focused on the feeling of your long cock breaking his body and forcing him down. just the way he wanted it. just the way he needed it.

kaeya felt as if he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. until a harsh slap to his bare thigh brought him back and he flinched, gasping for air as you kept fucking him.

“answer me.” you demanded, and he immediately scrambled to answer. “yes, yes, feels good,” kaeya whined. “you feel so good. so b-big, i can’t—”

and your hips began to speed up. thrusts growing hard and sloppy, your hands suddenly just beside his head as you angled his hips up to buck into his prostate.

kaeya almost wailed— maybe he did. body jolting with every thrust. voice dissipating into strained moans and whimpers as you continued to use his body.

“y/n, y/n,” he chanted. the sound of skin against skin and your rough groans in his ear only spurred him further. “so big, so full! fuuck!”

your growls turned into chuckles of amusement as you continued your rough pace on his body. “gonna breed you.” you whispered into the shell of his ear. “gonna use your body up and fuck you full of my babies.”

“yes, please,” kaeya nodded, huffing and whining. “fuck me full. wanna— i wanna feel you!”

he knew it wasn’t possible. you couldn’t actually get him pregnant. but the thought of it was exhilarating. you, knocking him up and leaving him with a baby. would he be a good mother? maybe. maybe not. he wish he could figure out. but if not, this would be just fine.

more than so.

kaeya opened his pretty eyes to try and look at you while you fucked him. instead, his vision fell to the bulge in his stomach that grew every time you drilled your hips up into him. the sight left his mind swirling with thoughts. so badly did he want your cum deep inside his stomach— so much so that the big bulge your cock imprinted in him did a baby take its place. he whined out, staring as your dick shaped his insides and left him moaning messily out for more.

“fuck, baby.” you groaned into kaeya’s ear. “i’m gonna cum. gonna make you take all of my cum. you’re gonna take my knot like a good boy, aren’t you?”

it was all ‘yes, yes, yes’ and ‘cum with me, please!’ from the lips of your lover. so badly did he want to experience the high of your release together.

and when you finally let go, finally pump all of your cum into his hole does he scream. the loudest he has in a while. you’re so warm, you make him feel so full— his eyes roll back into his skull and he’s stuttering pleas and begging for you to fill him up more, more, more.

his voice is giving out. similarly to his legs. you groan lowly into his ear and he feels his stomach churn. his own high leaving him breathless as it crashes over him and he himself cums streams of white all over his stomach.

the captain isn’t quite sure if he can breathe. not sure if his lungs are working properly, or if he’s even alive at all. not with the way he’s gripping the sheets for dear life as if worried he’ll find himself lost if he lets go.

and this is why he teases so much during your heats. to feel you inside him, stuffing him full and threatening to knock him up as if he’d take it like a curse— when in reality, he’d do anything to make you happy. even if it meant bearing your pups.

[loveinhawkins]

Steve knows that it’s Eddie from the way the RV door sticks awkwardly before it opens, which makes him smile. The guy can break in and hotwire the thing, as smooth as you like, but then apparently turns into a klutz as soon as the pressure’s gone.

Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s inside at first, seems more focused on tying a few makeshift spears together with string so they don’t fall about the place. It’s only when he looks up, does a double take and says, amused, “Sorry, didn’t realise I was interrupting something,” that Steve remembers he isn’t exactly cutting a fine figure right now.

To put it bluntly, he’s currently hunched over, sat at the little table, eating canned frosting with a teaspoon.

“What are you even…?” Eddie sits down opposite him, peers closer and sees the label on the can. “Harrington,” he says, like someone reading out orders of execution, “that’s fucking gross.”

“Hey, I found it sealed in the cupboard, it’s not expired. And it’s chocolate, man,” Steve defends.

A pause. “Can I have some?”

Steve laughs. “Sure.”

He finds another teaspoon, moves the frosting so it rests in between them. Smiles when Eddie knocks their spoons together, like they’re sharing wine instead.

They sit in comfortable silence. Steve has the sudden thought that if it wasn’t for the impending everything, he could pretend like it’s a lazy Saturday, where they’re free to do harmless, juvenile things, like just watching movies all day. Like sharing frosting out of the can.

“God, you’re so unbothered by all this, aren’t you?” Eddie says around his spoon, which makes Steve suspect that perhaps their thoughts aren’t exactly aligned at the moment. “Steve Harrington. Mister Cool.”

He says it softly, a little like Robin had—and Jesus, Steve thinks, did everyone in school have such an idea of him?

“Unbothered, meaning?”

Eddie shrugs. “Alternate dimension. Real life monsters. Uh, I dunno, the potential end of the world? Take your pick, man.”

Steve thinks for a little while, scrapes the bottom of the can repeatedly even though they’ve already eaten it all.

He doesn’t know how to say that over the years, fear has become normal, a reassuring background noise. It’s when he doesn’t feel it that he’s really, truly scared shitless.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Steve says, “I think we all just got so used to it, that—”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel better,” Eddie interrupts with a huff of a laugh. “If I think about it for too long, I might actually cry for you all, Steve.”

“Nah, don’t do that,” Steve says lightly—though he thinks that a part of Eddie really means it. “It’s more like… like I’m a duck, y’know? Calm on the surface, but…” He drums on the table in demonstration. “Freaking out underneath.”

Eddie’s looking at him with a little smile Steve thinks he hasn’t quite seen before—almost like he’s charmed.

He wonders just how many smiles Eddie Munson has. Wants to have enough time to find out.

“And you’re like an upside down duck,” Steve says, matter-of-fact.

Eddie snorts—another smile, wide and bright. “Excuse me?”

“Like, you might think you’re freaking out on the surface, but underneath, when it comes down to it, you’ll be…” Steve moves his hand in a straight line, imitating a duck calmly gliding along.

Eddie shakes his head. “Think you’ve got too much faith in me.”

And sure, it’s said like it’s a joke, but Steve holds his gaze when he replies seriously, “No, I don’t think so.”

You think I’d trust Dustin with just anyone? I saw you pull him back from the edge of the lake. That’s all I need to know.

Eddie glances away almost like he can see Steve’s thoughts dancing in front of him, as if the honesty is too much to witness.

“Plus you’re, like, my guide for what’s a normal reaction to all of this shit. You’re good for us, man. Keeps us grounded.”

Eddie laughs again. “Christ, I’m the guide for what’s normal. God help us all.” He drops his spoon into the empty can with a clatter. “It’s getting late. We’d better, uh. Round up the troops.”

He stands up, shuffles out from the table.

And Steve finds himself standing, too, with the sudden fear that he’s watching a window close before him.

He reaches for Eddie’s wrist—just two fingers, barely a touch—and Eddie turns to him immediately.

“Hey, Eddie, you’re—you’re good with them, y’know? The kids.” Steve laughs quietly. “God, they’d be… scared far sooner without you. When you were messing around with Dustin, and… Jesus, it’s the most I’ve seen Max laugh in a… in a while.”

Eddie’s smile turns gentle. “Nah, man. Any fool could do that.”

“No,” Steve says.

No, don’t you get it? Only you could. We’re all… we’re better with you, happier with you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. Please fucking understand how important you are.

You matter.

Eddie’s eyes flicker across Steve’s face. Like he’s understood without Steve having to say a word.

“Careful there, Harrington,” he murmurs.

Steve’s suddenly aware that he still has one finger on Eddie’s wrist. “What?”

Eddie stares at him. Shrugs with one shoulder, but it’s slow. Thoughtful.

“Just thought I’d get ahead of you, in case…”

“In case?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, abruptly sounds a little breathless. “Could be the end of the world, right? And you’re…” He glances over at the frosting can, smirks slightly. “You’re kinda under the influence. Don’t want you saying anything you wouldn’t mean in any, uh, normal circumstances.”

Fuck normal. This is my normal.

“And what if I meant it?” Steve says.

Eddie swallows. Calm on the surface.

“If you’re sure,” Eddie says slowly, eyes never leaving Steve’s face. “Then… go ahead.”

Steve steps closer.

Kisses him.

Eddie’s mouth tastes sweet from the frosting. Steve can feel it when he laughs, can feel him shaking from where he’s leaning up against the edge of the table.

He pulls back. “You okay?”

Eddie’s smile is tremulous, like he’s one second away from crying.

“Freaking out,” he says, but he pulls Steve in for another kiss, so Steve knows he’s not referring to…

“Yeah,” Steve admits. “Yeah, me too.”

Eddie laughs breathily, and the sound is enough to finally drown out the background buzz of terror. He’s so close Steve can count every eyelash.

“You’d never know, Steve.”

“Think this—” A last kiss, pressed to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Think this is the most scared I’ve ever been.”

“Me too,” Eddie echoes.

And just before he pulls Steve along, just before he opens the RV door and calls for everyone, he leans in close, whispers against Steve’s lips:

“Worth it.”

[dipperscavern]

the way i just know robb is a giant gentleman. sigh thinking about him tying your dress for u before he escorts you to the feast

he’s the firstborn of the most honorable man in the seven kingdoms, heir to winterfell, the man was raised solid.

he doesn’t have to know the girl to be respectful towards her, but it only increases tenfold when it comes to you. you’ve grown up alongside the starks, and robb’s been smitten with you ever since he could read. robb quite literally gives you princess treatment—he thinks you deserve nothing less, and if he was giving you anything less, he’d rather feed himself to greywind.

theres a feast tonight, celebrating robert baratheons arrival to winterfell. catelyn insists everyone must look their best, having the three men shave (much to robb’s dismay), you & sansa’s hair braided, and even arya was not exempt from dressing appropriately. robb was buttoning his shirt up when you knocked at his door.

you stepped in after knocking, both of you having abandoned curtesy with each other long ago. his expression softens at seeing you, your presence quickly doing wonders to lift his sour mood. you’re beautiful (as always), long hair fastened into a braid that falls behind your back, dress hugging your curves—extenuating all the right parts of you. his heart skips a beat at the sight of you. his brows furrow, taking note of how one of your hands is behind your dress.

“what’s all that?” he says, nodding his head towards you. “theon tie your hands behind your back, again?”

“robb stark, everybody. the most hilarious man in the seven kingdoms.” you say, pushing the door closed behind you, making your way to him.

“handsome. you forgot handsome.”

you roll your eyes, suppressing your smile.

“i can’t reach, tie me?” you say, referring to your dress. robb nods, hands moving to your waist, turning you around in front of him. he moves your braid to fall in front of your shoulder, the brush of his hand against the back of your neck sending shivers down your spine. he swallows thickly, seeing the exposed skin of your back. he does it without thinking, knuckles running across the indent of your defined shoulder blades. your eyes flutter shut at his touch, hating how he can pull you apart so easy.

“robb..”

your voice is quiet, barely audible as you whisper his name. he knows what you’re saying, truly. you won’t be able to function properly at the feast if he keeps touching you like that. he chuckles, voice crawling up your spine as he stops his wandering hands, moving to tie your dress. he goes from lace to lace, having figured out young how to tie a ladies dress—from you asking his help when you couldn’t figure it out yourself. goosebumps trail along your skin from the ghost of his hands against your back, not fully touching, but only lightly brushing along as he moves the strings along one another.

the dress grows tighter as he finishes, tying the last one. his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer, as he leans his head onto your shoulder. one of your hands lay over his, the other resting on the back of his neck. your sigh is a shaky exhale, content to stay in his arms for the rest of the night. they wouldn’t notice, right?

“don’t want to go.”

your voice is quiet, trying not to complain about things that were expected of you.

“i know. have some fun, yeah?”

you swallow, nodding. robb senses your hesitance, removing his head from your shoulder.

“hey. you’re goin’ with me, are you trying to say i’m not fun?” he says, turning you to face him. your brows furrow, smile going upside down at his accusation. your lack of response only makes him playfully roll his eyes, tsk’ing you as he shakes his head. he places a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you towards the door.

“hurtin’ my feelings, missy.” you both walk down the hallway, your hand on his bicep as he escorts you to the feast.

“it’s a gift.”

“right you are.”

shoutout to the seamstress for making this dress 4 me to wear.. and shoutout to robb stark cause he’s gonna be takin it owaff of me later tonight! winks

[luvergirl21]

roommate! hamzah, part 2

hamzah x f!reader smut! lowkey sub!hamzah.

hi everyone! i wasn't expecting this much support on my first story, so thank you so much for all the kind words and likes <3. if anyone has any requests for me to write about, please message me!

summary: this is a direct continuation, right from where part 1 left off, and i hope you all enjoy.

warnings: smut! smut! smut under cut! please do not read if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 1100

“Hi,” you say, giggling breathlessly as you came face to face with his growing length. 

“H-hey,” he managed to stutter out. Hamzah’s eyes were wide and glossy. He let out a small whimper as you touched his sensitive cock. It twitched once, then twice, as you caressed it in your hand. You dropped to your knees in front of the dark-haired man and he looked as though he was about to faint. His mouth was dry in anticipation and he licked his cracking lips. You placed a soft kiss on his tip, already dripping in pre-cum. He whined.

“Is that good, baby?” you asked him, in a soft, sultry voice that you didn’t even know could come from your throat.

“Mmh,” he responded, nodding his head aggressively. You licked the underside of his cock once and he shuddered, already almost threatening to spill his load everywhere. You began kitten-licking his tip, grabbing the rest of his length in your hands. Hamzah didn’t know what to do with his hands, but opted to put one in your hair, tying it up into a make-shift ponytail. Slowly, you took his entire length into your mouth. He was big and you were unable to take him all without gagging. You began moving your mouth up and down his length and Hamzah led out a heady groan, head tilted backwards towards the ceiling. You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, feeling the thick vein that ran from the tip to the base. You suppressed the gag that threatened to escape your lips as you nuzzled your nose against the thick, curly hair at the base of Hamzah’s cock. You inhaled his scent, as you let him begin to use your mouth however he wished.

His hips were beginning to stutter, as he grabbed your hair tightly, guiding your mouth along the length of his cock. He let out a flurry of groans and whines, eyes alternating between squeezing shut and staring down at you taking his length. Doe eyes wide and innocent, you held eye contact with him, hollowing out your cheeks, and he let out a long moan. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you knew he was close. Abruptly, you pulled your mouth off of his length with a pop, and he let out a whine at the lack of contact. 

“W-why’d you stop?” he asked, voice high-pitched and breathy. You didn’t respond, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and standing up. You pushed Hamzah towards the bed, pushing him down to sit on the edge. You moved to straddle his thick thighs, rubbing your uncovered pussy on his hard, wet length. His hands moved to roughly grip your waist and you intertwined your fingers in his hair.

“I want you inside of me,” you whispered into his ear. Hamzah shuddered at the contact of your soaking wet pussy moving along his sensitive cock. The way he was so turned on from not even being inside your cunt made your core throb with desire. 

Arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly close to him. You rub your wet folds along his member, before reaching behind you and lining his tip up with your soaking hole. You slowly sank down on his length, the stretch was blissful and you let out a long whine. Hamzah groaned into your chest. 

“Holy fuck,” he stuttered out. “S-so good. You feel so good, baby.” You slide up and down on his cock, feeling the stretch deep in your core.

“O-oh my god,” you whine. “You're so big, Hamzah.”

“How the fuck have we never done this before?” he whispered into your chest.

“You never asked,” you responded. Hamzah tugged at your t-shirt, reaching underneath it to caress your bare waist. His touch was like electricity, sending tingles throughout your back and down your spine.

“I wanna…” he huffed out. “I wanna-”

“Use your words, baby,” you responded, enjoying how fragile and delicate he was beneath you.

Hamzah’s face reddened, and he spoke, mouth buried in your shirt. “Wanna see your tits.” You giggled, before reaching down and tugging your t-shirt over your head. The air was slightly chilly and your nipples instantly hardened. Hamzah’s eyes widened as he came face to face with your tits.

“H-holy shit,” he said. “They’re so much prettier than I imagined.” He grabbed them in his big hands, massaging them slightly.

“You’ve imagined my tits?” you say, laughing slightly.

“Hell yeah,” he responded. “The other day, when you wore that tight little shirt out to dinner and your cleavage was showing…shit. The second I got home I had to jerk off. Fuck…I came so quick, imagining cumming all over your pretty fucking tits.”

Your face instantly reddened at his breathless confession. He began thrusting up into you, making your tits bounce with the sheer force of it. You let out a long moan, head tilted back, as he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep within your cunt. “S-sometimes,” he continued. “When I jerk off to you, I’m loud on purpose, hoping that you’ll hear me and come help me.”

“S-shit, Hamzah,” you whispered. He latched his pretty red mouth onto your tits, sucking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. You let out a high-pitched whine as your hips undulated against his. Hamzah reached down to rub your clit. You felt yourself coming closer towards release. “I-I’m close,” you whine.

“Me too, baby,” he responded, voice rough with desire.

Your breath became heavy. Hamzah rubbed your clit harder and faster, at the same time hitting that sweet spot deep inside. You came with a cry---white, hot light taking over your vision. Your orgasm washed over you and you clung onto Hamzah’s broad shoulders. Seconds later, Hamzah gripped your waist tightly and you felt his cock twitch inside you, spurting his seed deep within your cunt. He groaned deeply, head buried deep in your chest. His hips stuttered to a stop and you both sat there, completely still, coming down from your conjoint highs. Hamzah looked up at you, pure adoration present in his completely fucked-out expression. He smiled up at you, reaching up to wipe away the traces of saliva that adorned the corners of your lips. You smiled back. 

“Hi,” you said softly.

“Hi,” he responded, breathless. You giggled, moving your hand to sweep his curly hair back from his sweaty forehead. “Are you okay?” he asked, hands still gripping your waist.

“Yeah,” you responded. “I’m more than okay. Are you?”

“Never better.”

[thewulf]

A Little Jealous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was hoping if I could get one with Jake Seresin x reader where they're very close to each other and flirt with each other all day and makes everyone sick with their shenanigans but they secretly pine for each other... Read Rest Here

A/N: Good old miscommunication trope :) I love writing Jake. Keep on sending these amazing requests in and lmk what you think below! TY for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.3k +

“You’re being dumb, and you know it.” Natasha rolled her eyes before turning back to the traffic light the two of you were stopped at, heading towards the Hard Deck. Your usual Friday night hangout spot after yet another grueling training session with Maverick. He was kicking all of your sorry asses right into shape.

Leaning back into the seat you refused to look at her instead keeping your eyes trained out the window, “He doesn’t like me like that. He’s not a relationship guy Nat. He’s said it a hundred damn times. Why would I be any different?” Sighing in frustration Nat noticed you toying with the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit she picked up on after only you for a short while.

“Because you’re you? He told me yesterday how much he likes you.” She sighed in annoyance as she kept her eyes on the road even though she wanted to slap some sense into you. She often had to restrain herself from quite literally beating you up sometimes.

“As a friend! He likes me as a friend you doofus.” You added on knowing he couldn’t possibly return the feelings you had for him.

She scoffed while very visibly rolling her eyes at you, “Can’t believe you called me a doofus you dork.” She sighed before letting you continue the conversation, “Listen, all the two of you do is flirt. He’s constantly staring at you when you aren’t eye fucking him right on back. I haven’t seen two people get along so easily before in this line of work. Might as well embrace what you have while you have a chance.”

“Whatever. I’ll talk to him tonight.” You didn’t want to admit defeat, but you were growing rather tired of going back and forth with her on it. If there was one thing she was it was adamant, and this was the only way to get her to be quiet about it.

Her eyes lit up almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from your mouth, “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. If it comes up naturally I will.” You nodded your head thankful she was pulling into the bar already. There was a reason everybody from base went here after work, it was close. And you couldn’t be more thankful to be out of the car away from her prying eyes.

She shut the car off turning back to you, “Good enough for me. Now go in there and get your man.” She smirked knowing it’d set you off. She was right of course.

“Not my man.” You grumbled before happily hopping out of her car that was suffocating with her pressing you on the topic of Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

Of course, you’d love to take the next step with him. You practically threw yourself at the guy every time you hung out with him. But he never seemed to take your advances for what they were. Maybe you weren’t forward enough? Or maybe he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. You shuddered at that thought. He’d eventually be a relationship kind of guy. When he wanted to be. Why couldn’t it be with you?

When you walked through the front door and over to your usual spot you didn’t spot him right away. Instead, you spotted Bob and Rooster in the corner chatting away about something intently. Sitting down next to them you waited for their conversation to conclude before interrupting them.

“Hey Y/N.” Bob acknowledged you after a minute. You didn’t mind. Your eyes were busy scanning for Jake. Much to your annoyance you didn’t see him. Was he not here yet? That’d be off, he always beat you to the bar. Always saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You nodded at the both of them with distraction written all over your face.

Rooster smiled over at you knowing exactly who you were looking for, “He’s on the other side of the bar with a friend.”

“Who is?” You couldn’t hide the blush that appeared out of thin air just at the thought of Jake. Were you really that easy to read?

“Hangman.” Rooster leaned forward challenging you, “The guy you’ve been looking for since you walked in.” Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that came from his friends joke.

“I have not.” Your eyes looked everywhere but his.

Bradley laughed, “Sure. Go on then. Go get a drink or something. Definitely don’t go looking for Jake or anything.”

You stook quickly, gracious of his out, “Am I that bad of company?” You mocked offence.

“Hardly.” He smiled shaking his head at your usual antics. Rooster had come to like you quite a bit. You were sharp as a tack, deadly in the air and kinder than they usually came. He’d be a fool not to befriend you. An asset he knew he’d need in the future, “It’s our company I fear that is not nearly riveting enough for you.”

You giggled shaking your head at him, “You’re something else Roos.” Before he could reply you walked over to the bar ordering a drink but also looking for the man who’d taken your heart so effortlessly.

When your eyes scanned the other side of the bar your heart nearly stopped when you finally spotted the guy you’d been looking for. He was sitting there talking, no laughing, with a beautiful blonde woman. Your mouth ran dry as your heart rate picked up at a rapid pace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Far, far more beautiful than you could ever hope to even come close to. If he was chatting her up so easily then how in the hell did you ever think you stood chance with man? Nat was right. You were just you.

You’d let Nat’s words get to your head and get yourself into thinking he’d actually want you. How could you have been so damn stupid? Your eyes watched them carefully as they both seemed overjoyed to be in such an intense conversation going on.

It was Penny who knocked you out of the longing stare that had your thoughts consumed so entirely, “Drink?” She asked.

“Uh, actually I’m alright. Thanks Pen.” You waved her off not wanting to get stuck here longer than you wanted.

She gave you a confused looked before turning away back to her paying customers. You walked out in a half daze thinking about the pretty blonde woman who had captured Jake’s attention whole so easily. You’d managed to avoid everybody on your way out including your ever so nosy friend. You decided to walk home, it was only about a half mile back to your apartment. You’d done it a hundred times before. You were just usually a little drunk and not so heartbroken.

In your mind it was best to simply turn your phone to silent and flip it over while you watched reruns of your favorite shows once you got home. You’d decided it was best to throw yourself a little mini pity party mourning a relationship that’d never be. So that’s exactly what you did. Ignored your phone and watched television. That was your first mistake. Your second was ignoring the knocks on the door. Instead, you turned the TV up just a little louder pretending you couldn’t hear it. Once the heavy banging on the door commenced you knew you could no longer ignore it.

You flung the door open in irritation not knowing who exactly it was but assuming it was Nat, “Would you quiet down? You’re going to get me in trouble…” The words stopped dead in your mouth as you observed Jake on the other side of the door and not Nat. Jake. Shit.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” He frowned giving you a once over scan that you would’ve missed if your eyes weren’t so trained on his. He was checking to make sure you were physically fine. You knew that.

“I turned my phone on silent. Wanted a night to myself.” You answered him before continuing with your own question, “What are you doing here?”

“Or my calls. You ignored my calls.” His frown deepened as he scanned your apartment behind you now. What was he looking for?

You sighed now, getting a little frustrated with his seemingly impromptu visit, “I told you. My phone is on silent in another room.”

That snapped him out of whatever he was doing. You usually didn’t have such a hostile tone with him. Everything with you was usually so gentle. The hostility was left for the skies, “Why? Why weren’t you at the Hard Deck tonight? Nat said you came in with her?” He looked so confused, almost hurt?

You nodded, “I did. I just felt, unwell.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Seeing Jake with that beautiful blonde woman made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit.

“Oh okay.” He frowned giving you another once over, “Are you alright?” He took a step to the side looking almost bashful. Not as confident as he normally came off. It was odd to see him so out of sorts. What was the reason? Surely it couldn’t have been you.

You took a moment to contemplate his question. You were fine, certainly. Just a little devastated for something that would never occur. A future you yearned for that would never begin. But you were fine.

“I’m alright. Why are you here Jake?” You asked once more not stepping away from the front door. Not letting him in but not shooing him away either. You’d usually let him waltz through without a worry, but something was stopping you.

“To check in. I got worried when you wouldn’t answer. You always do.” He answered without a beat. He didn’t look l

“Oh.” You nodded at him. That was kind. That was very much like him, “Sorry to make you stop by.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.” He kept looking you over. You were playing with the hem of your shirt again. Things were awkward. Uncomfortable. You were nervous and he wasn’t saying what he wanted. Unsure of what to say you just looked down. Not ending the conversation but not making it move forward either.

“Well, goodnight.” You said after a few moments of painful silence. There wasn’t usually this much tension between the two of you. It felt wrong. There was never usually such an air of awkwardness such as there was now.

“No, wait.” He put his hand on the doorframe so you couldn’t shut the door. Not that you were planning to shut it in his face, “Is everything alright Y/N? I don’t… I don’t know what happened or what I did.” He paused giving you a genuine look of confusion and concern. A look you weren’t terribly familiar with from the man.

He was right. How would he know? You were being weird and secretive. And now that you knew he was probably dating that girl you couldn’t air out your love to him. That’d just ruin the friendship you’d grown to love with him.

So instead, you had to deflect a bit, “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He turned his head in confusion at that, “Pardon?”

“Uh,” Might as well spit out some of the truth, “Tonight. Was going to tell you I was heading home but then I saw you talking to the woman. She was pretty.” You added the last sentence in almost silence hoping he couldn’t detect the jealousy radiating from your body. It wasn’t easy to hide, no.

He crinkled his eyes together, “Who?”

Was he playing dumb? Could the interaction have been so minute that he didn’t even recognize just how gorgeous the woman was? You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your dissatisfied frown, “The blonde woman you were talking to in the booth?”

He cocked his head to the side. First a wave of confusion crossed his face then recognition of the interaction must’ve crossed as his once confused face turned to realization, “You mean Amy?” His smile turned to a knowing smirk once he put two and two together. Jake was anything but dumb. In fact, he was quite intelligent. It hit him as to why your mood would have turned so sour towards him so quickly.

“Amy?” You asked playing right into his hand. He had you now and you didn’t even know it.

He nodded leaning onto the side of the apartment building, “Yup. She was my commanding officer back in Virginia. We were catching up for a moment.” He nodded his head watching you as he reveled in your realization of who he chatting with. He also knew how pretty she was. Jake had thought so since the moment he had laid eyes on her all those years ago. There was a slight problem though, she wasn’t exactly into men. And she wasn’t afraid to let those around her know it. Apparently, you hadn’t picked up on it though. And Jake decided he’d tease you about it for a bit.

“Oh.” You said again as you took a step back while crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t exactly an invitation inside the apartment, but it wasn’t not either. Jakes eyebrows quirked up quickly as he realized he was getting somewhere with you. It was cute. You were jealous. You’d been so good at hiding any emotion he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back. Nat had assured him that you did, and you were just afraid at showing it. Afraid of the consequences once you dove headfirst in. But this was a sign, albeit a small one.

He bobbed his head up and down while taking a small step forward, “Oh indeed.” He gave you a wry smile as his eyes traced over your face, “She was just telling me about how she and her wife were looking at adopting once they get settled out here.”

Your eyes rose in recognition of what he had told you, “Her wife?”

He took another small step forward, shrinking the already small space between the two of you, “Of three years. I was invited to the wedding. It was nice.” He grinned knowing he had you now. Your little outburst and show looked a little silly. He knew you felt embarrassed because he knew you. He adored you. He had begun to love you.

You looked down letting a small sigh of defeat out. You did feel embarrassed. Mortified actually. This is why you didn’t jump to conclusions. This right here. You stepped away from the door officially inviting him inside. He’d done nothing wrong. And even if he was flirting with a pretty blonde girl he would’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t have any claim over him. Crap. You’d just made an unknowing mess of everything.

Jake didn’t hesitate at your invitation in. A sort of nonverbal apology he happily accepted. He sat down on the couch opposite of you giving you a smile, “You don’t look sick.” He said to you.

“I feel better.” You gave him a quick nod knowing your cheeks were beginning to flush right in front of him.

“Did your illness have anything to do with Amy?” He pressed deciding he wanted to cross the invisible line between the two of you tonight. Your acting out showed him just how much you actually did like him.

“No!” You were quick to answer, far too quick.

His little grin grew into that signature Jake smirk. The one that was often reflected at you in a much different light. Not like this. Not like he’d caught you doing something because he actually did.

“You sure about that?” He leaned so far froward you were sure he was trying to touch you now. Egg you on. Press your buttons. Cross the line. Maybe Nat wasn’t wrong? Maybe he did have feelings?

With wide eyes you shook your head, “No.”

He scooted over on the couch, so he was sitting next to you now. He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, “You seem… a little jealous?”

Your eyes were staring right at his hand that seemed to engulf your knee. You tried to answer him, really. But when you opened your mouth not a sound would come out. You shut your mouth in an instant before turning to him knowing he was right. You were a little jealous. But did you really have to admit it to him?

He leaned a bit closer to you, running his hand just a touch up your leg, before whispering in your ear, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable that you’re a little jealous.”

Thankful for him giving you a little relief you finally found your words again, “You do?”

The smirk turned down into a soft smile as he saw the lack of confidence in your face. Had he not done enough to assure you of how he really felt? He’d thought he made it pretty obvious.

“I do. I think it’s really cute. Wanna know another little secret I’ve been keeping from you?” He asked you.

Your heart rate involuntarily picked up at that, “Yes.” It sounded more of a whisper than anything else. But you couldn’t quite help it. You were nervous. He made you terribly nervous.

“I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever got to know.” He smiled watching your reaction. It was nice seeing you so expressive with him. You’d always been so cautious and reserved with him. Collected and calculated. But you no longer had to be. Not when he’d been so outright with it now.

“Now, I know you’re joking.” You laughed not so sure of his admission to you. But his face said otherwise.

“Have I lied to you before?” He asked knowing the answer was an easy no.

You shook your head in response, “No.”

He smiled softly moving his hand from your leg to your hand, “Why would I start now then?”

You gulped at the seriousness in his tone and through his expression. He wasn’t lying. He was out here admitting his feelings towards you. Damn. Nat was right. More than right. You were a fucking idiot.

Before you could stop the words that came out of your mouth you finally admitted to him how you’d been feeling, “I like you.”

He smile before capturing your face in his free hand, “A little jealousy always helps.” Brushing your lip with his thumb he studied your face intently, “I like you too. I like you more than you can even imagine.”

A breath of relief washed out of you as the words you’d been dying to hear left his lips, “That’s good to hear.”

He started laughing. A good old hearty laugh that filled you with your own sense of joy and giggles, “Let me take you out on a real proper date darlin’?” He asked once the shared laughter between the two of you had died down.

You nodded quickly, breathlessly as you took in his lovestruck gaze, “I’d like that.”

His other hand joined him as he cupped your face in his embrace. You were truly vulnerable as hell to him, a position you’d tried to avoid from the get-go. But you couldn’t help it. You were falling for him, fast.

“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now pretty girl.”

You leaned towards him without a second thought, “Then do it.”

He thought for a second before shaking his head, “Can’t kiss you without taking you out first darlin’.”

You bit your lip knowing it’d drive him past his breaking point, “Please? You don’t have to be a gentleman tonight.”

He groaned, tightening his embrace on your face as carefully as he could, “How can I say no when you ask like that?”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

[inmaki2]

luxiem’s reaction to you falling asleep on stream

req . luxiem x gn!reader .

fluff . 1k est wc .

(f/n - fandom name) ty for the cute req ^^ not proofread + lmk if there’s warnings i missedd

“lemme just read a few more supas before i end, chat..”

despite your determined words, even the viewers notice your model’s eyes drooping ever so sleepily while you talk. many express their concern and wishes for you to continue tomorrow, while others spam ‘tskr’ and remarks on how endearing the situation was.

“‘go sleep’? nah, you don’t—“ you’re cut off by a yawn, speech turning slower involuntarily, “you don’t have to worry, i’m.. i’m okay guys.”

coincidentally, right as you try to read the next donation, you close your eyes, attempting to give yourself just a second of rest, only to slip right into dreamland. of course, your chat explodes simultaneously; a majority being exclaims of what would happen next while others debate on if something else might’ve occurred. luckily for you, your boyfriend — who just so happens to be experienced in your field of work — is on the bed a few feet over, ready to help out.

mysta rias

mysta is much more observant than some may think (especially when it comes to you) and easily caught onto your state long before chat did

he shook his head from the bed, knowing exactly how you were feeling whilst you pushed yourself to continue thanking donations

it hurt him watching you in such a state, especially knowing he couldn’t do much

but now that you’ve drifted off, he’s quick to tiptoe over and take control of your model

he doesn’t even say hi, only muttering a ‘give me a minute, guys’ before grabbing your underarms and carrying you off to bed

once you’re neatly tucked in, he plants a quick kiss to your forehead before rushing back to finish up the stream

“sorry about that, yes it’s mysta! hope you guys dont mind me taking over for a bit.. wait, why’s everyone saying clip this?!”

mysta isn’t big about sharing much when it comes to your relationship, but he’ll be sure to let your fanbase what’s going on if you (clearly) can’t admit it yourself

“yep.. they say don’t worry, but then shit like this happens. fuckin’ stubborn, aren’t they?” he huffs, glancing over at your sleeping figure with fond but frustrated eyes

“good thing i was here. don’t worry, f/n.. i know you’re jealous and all, but they’re in good hands. if y’know what i mean,” the male cackles before remembering how close you are, sighing when he ensures you’re still asleep

mysta being mysta, he ends up talking to chat for a bit longer than necessary, mostly rambling about you of course

and before he ends stream, the idiot probably comments some suggestive shit that only makes the amount of clips from your stream double (sigh)

however, while he fools around for the viewers, don’t expect to be off the hook without a serious talk in the morning, along with a staff meeting that mysta will personally organize that same night

also,, be prepared for him to never live this down </3

ike eveland

the amount of times he had to stop himself from rushing over and just pulling you to bed throughout the stream..

he even tried (spamming) texting you, yet you’d simply send a stern shake of your head from the desk

so of course, once you closed your eyes for good, ike was already planning out the speech he was going to give you later on

your boyfriend can’t help but mumble about how ‘he knew this would happen’ as he paces closer, muting your mic before carrying you bridal style to bed

as romantic as it sounds, this boy was deadpanning stubbornly the whole time

“well, hello there f/n, ike here! like i’m sure most of you figured out, y/n fell asleep. the remainder of supas will continue next stream, but i hope you guys take this as a lesson that having designated time for rest is just as important—“

yes, even your chat gets an ike lecture

soon after, he’s shutting your pc down while glancing at you with an unreadable gaze

poor boy isn’t sure if he wants to scold you or hug you first

in the end he complies with hugging you all night

even after he wakes up he’ll bring his laptop in bed just so he can be near you while still working

“ah, look who’s awake,” brushing some hair from your face, he chuckles as you stretch cutely. “did you sleep well?”

“mm.. wait, what happened to my stream?”

at this, ike deadpans once again, pushing his laptop away — and that’s when you know you’re in trouble <\3

shu yamino

he knows how headstrong you can be, so he rarely tries to get you to change your mind on things like this, even when watching you doze off on live eats away at his heart

the only time he’d given his opinion was a few hours before stream, where you showed visible signs of over working

“babe?” he swallowed in discontent, inspecting your messy state from the kitchen. “i think you should cancel stream today, we can start a new anime n’ head to bed early tonight instead.”

it was a tempting offer, but the looming thought of potentially letting fans down made you swiftly decline, earning a defeated sound from the male

now here he was, rushing over to mute your mic and gently pat you awake

“y/n— y/n, you fell asleep on stream.”

that has your eyes shooting open, and the redness in them has guilt building further in shu’s chest

he feels like a bad boyfriend, like he should’ve been more assertive in taking care of you, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened

but those thoughts were for another day; right now you needed him more than ever

in an attempt to calm you down as you blabbered in confusion, he squeezes your hand in his

“shh, baby,” shu rarely used such petnames, but it immediately has you settling down. “you’re okay. it’s okay, f/n are still here waiting for you, see?”

he continues to kneel by your setup, rubbing your knuckles comfortingly as you build up the strength to unmute and explain the situation

“i don’t even know what happened, i hope everyone who donated doesn’t mind if i finish reading them next stream?” as you speak, shu nods supportively

if for some reason anybody were to get upset about this, he’d gladly argue with them himself

as soon as you hit ‘end stream’, he rises from the floor, holding your hand while walking to bed and murming affirmations softly

he smiles as you fall back to asleep almost instantly, messaging your manager himself to clear your schedule <3

vox akuma

honestly, he’d never let it come to this in the first place

“love, you’ve been slugging around all day. there’s no way you have the energy for a stream.”

in the end, you make a compromise to stream for much less time than you originally planned.. yet still fell asleep

vox hadn’t even realized at first; so busy completing work of his own until the silence finally registered

he would be mad and scold you like ike.. but you just look so cute napping away at your desk!!!

without bothering to mute, mans just admires you for a second with a tiny smirk

even in this state you were stunning to him,, not his fault

eventually lifts you like a sack over his shoulder (if you weren’t so tired he’d slap your ass by now. sigh) before settling you in bed

at that point he was desperate to just cuddle up with you, but of course the live was still ongoing

“why hello, f/n, there’s been a bit of.. em, a turn of events as you can see.. my idiot partner refuses to give themself a break so now you get me!”

vox chuckles lowly while reading the chaos and confusion in chat, sparking a new onset of comments. “guys, i can guarantee your oshi is not dead, c’mon, have some faith in me.”

like mysta, he doesn’t want to let the viewers in on too much, but he definitely hovers around the topic of overworking and breaks

“—after all, they’ve given up hours upon hours to plan more streams and events for you to enjoy, so now, i’d like everyone to be equally supportive and let them have a week or so off, hm? we don’t want this happening again, right?”

it’s a bit passive-aggressive, protective boyfriend tone honestly,, he can’t help it okay!

the minute it’s over vox is rushing back into bed, taking on the role of big spoon instinctively at your exhausted state

in the morning, he’s eager as ever to help you send a break request to the company <3

luca kaneshiro

now this one can be a bit,,

oblivious

he could tell you were tired, yes — but had no inkling it was to such a degree where you’d fall asleep in front of thousands of viewers

it definitely makes him think back to how your energy had been much lower than usual for a while now

he feels guilt bubbling in his stomach, but pushes it away as he swiftly moves in front of your mic

“chat! psst, it’s— it’s luca! y/n fell asleep, should i scare them!?” he whispers, barely holding in a mischievous giggle, “kidding, kidding. they deserve to sleep, like, really. i’ll keep you guys company for now alright?“

being the entertainer he is, luca easily finished up stream with his ‘impromptu asmr’, all while keeping one hand on your knee affectionately

“alright f/n, i think it’s time i uh, get y/n to bed, but thank you to those who stuck around! i’ll make sure they get lots of rest, pinky promise!”

it was going smoothly until he clumsily tried to lift you from the chair, awkwardly placing one hand on your behind and the other around your torso

“luca? the fuck are you doing?” you blink, only registering your boyfriend’s interesting hand placement as you wake up

his eyes widen, quickly letting you down with flushed cheeks. “what— i— i was just bringing you to bed! you fell asleep!”

“oh.. wait, on stream?!”

the boy quickly assures you (through lots of laughter) that he had it under control, and luckily for him you were too tired to fight back, only humming as he slides into bed as well

“i pinky promise’d your chat, babe. i promised that i’d make sure you rest, so no streaming for the next couple days, ‘kay?”

he gets snoring in response, which in his mind is good enough!

you wake up to a message from your manager wishing you a nice week off.. and the culprit only smiles adorably <3

if u want me to write more make sure to reblog/send asks and tell me if u enjoyed !!!!!

nkox 2023 - do not copy, translate, crosspost, etc.

[velvetures]

could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>

pls and ty 🙏🏻

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic

a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):( Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it. TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.

Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.

You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.

At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.

What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.

Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.

Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.

Knowing that gave him… fantasies.

Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.

Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.

Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.

Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.

Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3