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teddybeartoji · 1 day

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彡 NO GARDEN CAN BLOOM WITHOUT THE SUN

☆. contains: bf!satoru gojo x gn!reader; fluff fluff fluff!!!! they're in love!!!!!! satoru is the king of acts of service!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wc: 1.5k

"c'mon, show me those chompers, baby!"

sat on the bathroom counter, you watch your boyfriend bare his fangs at you in the most adorable way. his eyes are pressed shut, his smile so wide that it's almost reaching his ears – he's showing how you should do it.

unable to contain the sleepy chuckles that bubble up your throat, satoru's eyes crack open. he's sleepy, too. but he's still here; he's still determined to make you happy, to make you feel good, to make you smile. he's determined to take care of you no matter what.

he ushers you with a laugh of his own, showing you the lump of toothpaste sitting on your new toothbrush.

(he bought you matching ones the other day. he's very proud of himself.)

(you love him.)

you can't say no to him. his free hand squeezes your waist, a sign that he's here and he's waiting. he's not being impatient, though – no, never that. he's just reassuring; skin on skin, he wants you to know he's never leaving.

to him it isn't dramatic to be thinking about his everlasting devotion while doing a menial task like this (if you can even call it that) – it's more than normal actually. he simply cannot stop; you're eating him from the inside and he's grateful.

you do as he says and clench your teeth together while pulling your lips back. you're sure you look a little silly but satoru couldn't disagree more.

"there we go! you look like a little tiger!" he leans in and brushes his nose against yours, making it scrunch up and that makes him giggle in turn. he feels giddy around you, he feels like he's in heaven.

he wets the toothbrush before bringing up to your mouth. he takes his hand from your hip and places it on your jaw instead, gently guiding your face up so he can see a little better.

bristles brush against your enamels and you peer at satoru. he looks awfully concentrated – he's cute like this. there's a small crease between his brows, his crystalline eyes glued to your canines as he watches your mouth fill with foam.

blindly, you play with the hem of his shirt; your fingers graze his marble skin and he shudders at the light touch. the fluorescent light coming from behind you illuminates his face and you waste no time in counting the freckles that adorn his skin. again. you've done it a thousand times before and you'll do it a thousand times more. they're your stars – his smile being the sun and his pretty blue eyes the equivalent of the moon in the sky. he's your guide during the day and the night, you'd be utterly lost without him.

he's your world.

satoru wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the extra toothpaste that's threatening to trickle down your skin and smears it into his shirt, laughing loudly when you gasp at his antics. you smack his stomach and watch his head loll back with a dopey grin. his chest rumbles, hearty giggles bubbling up his throat. his adam's apple bobs before he lowers his head back down, his gaze meeting yours. he's so full of love, he just might burst.

"was gonna wash it anyway."

he looks proud of himself and you snort at his answer.

"yersuchachild."

the toothpaste in your mouth is making it hard to sound serious, your words coming out all muddled and slurred as you splutter at him. he doesn't care for your lecturing – his mind is filled with hearts and sparkles and rainbows and kittens and puppies and pastries and warm blankets and glitter and roses and the color pink and the color red and your eyes and everything else that could possibly be associated with the word love. he watches your mouth move and he sees flower petals falling, he watches you blink and he sees shooting stars, he watches you breathe and he feels at home.

he's your air.

you're a perfect match – you breathe him in and he makes a home inside your lungs. you keep him safe, you cradle him with your gentle hands and hide him from the cruel world. and he in turn takes care of your heart; he warms it, he tends to it like it's a garden. he waters and he weeds, he plants new seeds and he reaps what he has sowed with the softest smile in the world.

no garden can bloom without the sun.

satoru places the toothbrush in your mouth before yanking the dirty t-shirt off of his body. he raises his brows, seeking for praise. "better?"

you nod sleepily and the brush between your teeth bounces up and down, making satoru laugh again. you give him a smile and his breath hitches just a little. all foamy and pretty – he loves you so fucking much.

he goes back to his job, carefully brushing over your front teeth and then the sides. he gives your cheeks a squeeze, telling you to open up again and then he's leaning in so close that you almost choke on the paste in your mouth. a smirk tugs on his lips as he squints his eyes, glaring at your teeth like he's a proper dentist.

your fingers itch for him and you refuse to suffer when he's right there; you trace over the scars that cover his tummy, his whole body, and you hum. finally, you decide to just rest your hands on the waistband of his pyjamas – you need to be touching him, always and forever.

but the sleepiness is starting to take over; your eyes feel heavy and satoru doesn't miss your slow blinks. he speeds up his movements, whispering for you to show him your tongue. he quickly cleans it, intent on giving you his hundred percent.

when he deems that he's finally done, he takes the brush from your mouth and leans back, taking a good look at the masterpiece before him; half-asleep, mouth covered in toothpaste & content. he couldn't wish for anything else.

without giving you time to react, he lunges forward, pressing his plump lips against yours. he holds your cheeks like you're made out of glass and you grasp at his skin like he's about to fade away—

— but you won't break and he won't disappear.

seperating from him, you're met with the most bashful fucking smile in the world. his hands rest on his hips and he really couldn't be more proud of himself. frothy lips and sparkling eyes, you simply stare at him and just let the butterflies fill your stomach. there's no stopping them anyway.

"okay, c'mon, sleepyhead." satoru taps your thighs. "wash your mouth."

he comes up close again, his nose touching yours. "or do you want me to do that for you, too?"

he's a little cocky and he's a little smug and you think it's only fair; he has every right to be – you're wrapped around his finger like honey around a dipper. but alas, you plop off the counter and press yourself flush against him before turning around and facing the sink. he doesn't move, staying glued behind you like it's where he's meant to be.

(it is.)

his arms snake around your middle, patiently waiting for you to finish cleaning up. satoru sways his hips, gently, as if trying to lull you to sleep. he stares at you through the mirror, unable to tear his eyes from you. his own shirt drapes over your figure, soft skin peeking from under the collar, just waiting for him to press his lips against it. you feel like putty in his hold, like his own personal plushie and he has never been this excited to go to bed. he can't wait to sleep with you – to curl around you, to hug and kiss, to feel your heartbeat under his heavy head.

(every morning he wakes up already dreaming about spending the night with you again. you rest together, you heal together.)

you raise your head from the sink and satoru is already handing you a towel. you thank him with your eyes and dry yourself off. he rests his head on your shoulder and your fingers crawl between his messy white strands, you rub at his scalp and he closes his eyes. a purr reverberates through his body and then through yours and another smile makes it's way onto your face. it's inevitable; he just makes you so fucking happy.

hearts beating together, you stand there in your bathroom. it feels special, it is special – he always makes you feel like this, no matter where, no matter when; like a lock and a key, like a blanket and a pillow, like a piece of paper and a pen, like rain and thunder, like the ocean and the beach—

— like a ray of sunlight and a blooming flower.

+ hii my beloved satoru lovers just felt like tagging you guys bc... i felt like it<333 @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @staryukis @mossmurdock @neptuneblue @lxnarphase @nkogneatho @cockaiine @kentophilia @sugulani @13curses @blankwashed i love you

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kenntolog · 1 day

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𝝑𝝔 an: i don’t really like this much :( im feeling so sick ngl reader is me i am reader, just need me a boyfie like sukuna here :((( anyways, i posted this because i felt the pressure to do it sk bare with me please!! i love you all <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

so you’ve been silent through the whole day, which has been bothering sukuna whenever he was reminded of it. nervously checking his phone at practice every chance he got, which got his teammates interested in whatever the hell happened that got him so invested in his phone(only toji tbh). his mind being focused on you instead of the upcoming game which reflected greatly on his practice and made everyone worried.

sukuna just waved them off and continued calling you with no results and texting you, which also got him nowhere. so of course, he decided to check on you after being done with university.

no one answers your door, radio silence, which leads sukuna to taking out the poorly hidden spare keys from under the fake plant and going in, still uninvited but determined to find you. he calls your name a few times, walking around the rooms with a frown on his face. the sight that greets him when he enters your room is even more confusing than your silence throughout the day.

a big pile of blankets on your bed. the longer he stares at it the clearer he can see the faint movement of it — slowly up and slowly down, up and down. he approaches it, looking over only to find a tuft of your hair peeking out from under it.

“what the hell..?” he mutters under his nose while his hands tug down the blanket to reveal your face.

even in your sleep you manage to frown and you only do that when you’re not feeling well, so sukuna leans in closer, sensing the heat radiating from you, and touches your forehead with his lips, eyes widening at how hot you feel. “the fuck happened to you?”

you blink sleepily before opening your eyes and looking up at him for a few seconds. sukuna sits down by your side, hands caressing your face gently as he inspects your condition quickly, “what’s up, loser?”

you say his name, yet he can barely hear it before you start coughing and turn away from him. he can see your face scrunch in pain; his heart squeezes in his chest when you lie back and this time your lips wobble slightly as you mouth his name, barely audible, “‘kuna~ think ‘m sick~”

“yea, no shit.” he rolls his eyes with no real annoyance in them. “let’s make you feel better, yeah, baby?”

you nuzzle into his palm and he smiles gently at you… until you unintentionally sneeze right into it, leaving slimy boogers and gross spit, and sukuna’s eye twitches as he tries to contain his curses.

of course, first thing sukuna does — calls his older brother jin, because the former doesn’t even remember the last time he got sick and jin always knows what to do, especially in a situation like this since little yuuji hasn’t developed the best immune system yet.

“are you sure you can take care of her properly?” jin asks worriedly from the other end of the line, causing sukuna to roll his eyes.

“have some faith in me, will you?” jin only sighs, barely listening to him as he writes down the list of various medicine and things he must buy to make you feel better. yet, he still catches his younger brother’s almost incoherent mumbling. “i can take care of her like no other.”

“then do just that.”

sukuna hums and presses end call, continuing to look through your kitchen cabinet full of different medicines in hopes of finding whatever the hell jin sent him.

you’re not a very obedient person when you’re sick though, he notices. sukuna can tell you’re still a bit hazed from the high body temperature and trying to sleep it off without any care, yet the sickness makes you more stubborn than ever.

and he can’t find it in himself to push you around when your body is hurting and muscles are sore from spasming in an attempt to warm up. so he just lets you sit on the chair in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in your blanket, dazedly watching him make you some soup.

he feeds you the soup himself, too, agreeing a little begrudgingly of course. you whine a bit with that pitiful broken voice of yours and he just gives in because your eyes are watery and your lips wobble, and he is just a weak man around you. don’t judge him!

sukuna is so caring, though, it makes you fall in love with him all over again. he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking you stuff and making you curing beverages; rough around his the edges about his timing and maybe a little too annoyed with your childish antics, yet never showing it directly like he usually does.

watching your favourite movies and shows with you, when he’d usually just shit on your taste and choose something of his own(which you also eventually like, but nonetheless get angry at him). getting invested in them too — just so he can entertain you afterwards and take your mind off of your ill state.

not commenting on your messy state; sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, complains about cold when changing your equally sweaty shirts to clean ones, whines about the tea being too hot or the syrup being too gross(okay, that one kinda angers him he just shoves the spoon in your mouth to make you drink it since you wouldn’t do it yourself).

he also sleeps with you later that night, ignoring your warnings about him getting sick too :(( holds you tight, shares his body heat and wakes up every now and then to check if you’ve sweated any more.

needless to say, you feel a lot better the next morning!! all thanks to sukuna.

(also he gets sick a day after, but don’t ask about that pls heh).

#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna x you

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erwinsvow · 3 days

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i need to take a nap with rafe

there's nothing better than a good afternoon nap, you think to yourself, feeling how tired you're getting from the morning's activities. it's easy to get that way—the sun is so warm and every second outside feels exhausting in the humidity.

it's nicer still to fall asleep and wake up when it'll still be sunny outside. it's a pick-me-up, you explain to your boyfriend. or at least, you try to explain.

"why don't y'just drink a coffee?" rafe says, staring at you from the driver's seat of his truck. parked in the sun, you had been waiting for him to wrap up with his friends, or work—whatever he said he's been doing. you were too tired to pay attention. you could fall asleep in the truck if it wasn't so hot outside.

"no, ugh. that just makes you all hyper. a nap is refreshing."

"yeah i don't know 'bout that."

when he takes you back to tannyhill, you curl up on the bed, enjoying the air conditioning and the soft sheets.

"you gonna sleep?" rafe asks, pulling out his laptop.

"mm-hm." you watch as he gets up, pulling the curtains closed. "no, leave them open. that's part of the nap."

"y'not gonna be able to fall asleep with the sun-"

"no, no i am. it's nice waking up to the sun."

"i don't get this. you wake up to the sun every day." a couple minutes go by—you try to get as comfortable as you can, though it's hard without rafe next to you. when you open your eyes, he's already looking at you.

"rafe."

"yeah kid?"

"will you come nap with me?" you think he's gonna put up a fight—almost everything's a debate with him, but this time, shockingly, he doesn't say a word. he shuts his screen and joins you in bed, and you move aside to make room for both of you.

you're asleep a minute after rafe puts his arm around you, his fingers rubbing your arm soothingly. he watches you for a moment—you two always fall asleep together and you're always up before him, so he doesn't get to see you like this often—how your chest rises and falls with each breath, how you look with your cheek smushed against his arm.

he's asleep a little later.

a little more than an hour later, you wake up, eyes blinking open while you enjoy the feeling of the sun of you. you stretch your legs, groaning while you try to sit up—though you can't move much, since rafe is asleep with a tight hand on your waist, his head resting on your chest.

you smile down at your boyfriend, hard not to when he was so reluctant to even take a nap with you. brushing fingers through his hair, you thought it would calm him but his eyes flutter open too.

"honey? you okay?" you ask, quietly incase he'll be able to fall back asleep.

"jesus. how long was that?" rafe asks, and you turn to check the alarm clock on the nightstand.

"maybe an hour and a half?"

"shit." he gets up, hair sticking in every direction while you try to hold back a laugh. "god, m'all sweaty. why do you do this?"

"it's nice, rafe. don't you feel soothed?" you ask, giggling and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

"need a shower. and coffee. god, kid-" he grumbles something else, but you don't pay attention.

close to midnight, when you're asleep, rafe taps your shoulder and wakes you up.

"why did we nap? i can't sleep now. why do i listen to you, huh? jesus-"

#this was sillier than it was good but i hope you like it ♡#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days

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my aphrodite

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, husband!rafe, pregnant!reader, pregnancy sex but not really pregnancy kink, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, brief mentions of issues with pregnancy (just at the very beginning, its rafes anxiety)

“oh thank god you're home.” you rush up to rafe the second the front door shuts behind him.

“what's wrong?” rafe asks, eyes widening, thoughts immediately shifting to what could possibly be the problem. “is it the baby? are you bleeding?”

rafe reaches for your stomach, looking over your body.

“god, nothing like that.” you shake your head. “the baby is fine im not fine though.” before rafe can interrupt you, you quickly continue. “im so horny, babe. like so fucking horny. my hormones are- god, like im already wet just from seeing you i need you to fuck me.”

“jesus.” rafe presses a hand against his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. “yeah, of course, let's go upstairs.”

“too far.” you grasp rafes hand, tugging him into the kitchen. you lean over the counter and flip up the bottom of your maternity dress, showing off your already bare and wet pussy.

“jesus.” rafe says again, this time his tone light as he laughs. “you really are needy.”

“do something. do something, im going crazy.” you plead, arms resting on the countertop.

your head drops to the cold marble as rafe gets down on his knees behind you, pressing his face between the opening of your thighs.

“oh, fuck.” you moan out as rafes mouth meets your pussy, smearing your juices across his chin as he eats you out.

what you can't see is rafe pulling his cock out of his pants, stroking himself to hardness just from your taste on his tongue.

rafe turns his attention to your clit, teasingly running the tip of his tongue around it in wide circles before closing in, pressing kisses to your most sensitive part.

“more.” you beg, and rafe is quick to listen as he sucks your clit into his mouth, both hands coming to hold your thighs now that he's sufficiently hard.

you let out a satisfied moan, glad to finally have rafes attention where youve been craving it all day, but it isn't what you truly want.

“fuck me. need your cock, rafey. need it so bad. want you to put another baby in me.” you whine out, knowing while it may not be possible, you need to be filled with him in every way possible.

rafe stands quickly, scrambling to his feet as he pushes his cock into you, moaning when he sinks into your wetness, soft and open for him as he immediately begins to push his hips forward into you.

“god, finally.” you squeal.

“next time just call me, ill come home from work to fuck you.” rafe laughs, watching the way your hands are gripping the marble, trying to find something to hold but only finding the smooth surface.

“maybe ill just tell the secretary im bringing you in lunch and you can fuck me in your office.” you laugh airly.

“except we both know you can't be quiet.” rafe grunts as he speeds his hips up to keep you satisfied.

“mhm exactly.” you smile, looking back over your shoulder at rafe. “remind everyone in your office that you're mine.”

rafe just nods. he knows no one has forgotten, not when you come in every other day to drop him off lunch, telling him how bored you are when he's not home and how much you desperately miss him.

you keep your head turned as rafe unbuttons his shirt, his hips still pushing forward as he lets the fabric fall from his shoulders, revealing his sculpted torso.

“you're like a damn greek god.” you moan out, finding your husband even more attractive now that you're pregnant with his baby, something you didn't even realize was possible.

“then you're my aphrodite.” rafe bends over your back, pressing a kiss to your lips that you graciously accept.

you let out a whine when he pulls away, only for rafe to quickly maneuver you, flipping you over and picking you up so you're sat on the countertop.

“need to keep kissing you.” rafe says, grabbing his cock and realigning himself with your pussy as his mouth dominates yours.

“god, yes.” you whine, pressing yourself as close to rafe as you can with your pregnant belly, hips at the very edge of the marble slab.

rafe takes over your entire body, pushing into your pussy while his mouth leaves you with no other room to think about anything other than him.

“i love you baby.” rafe moans, barely pulling his mouth away to talk. “you're so beautiful.”

“cum in me.” you whine. “please, need it.”

“yeah, i got you.” rafe grunts, putting all his focus into pressing inside of you, determined to make you cum.

he sighs with relief when he feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as your high hits, entire body shuddering with pleasure as rafe allows the wall to fall as he moans out your name and cums inside of you.

“fuck! baby!” rafe shouts, pushing as deep inside of you as he can, it's not like he needs to worry about getting you pregnant when you're already filled with his baby.

“ah, shit.” you whine, laying back against the countertop, splayed out, maternity dress still pushes up, showing off your belly and dripping pussy as rafe carefully pulls out.

“come on, let's get you in the bath.” rafe scoops you up in his arms, biceps bulging as he carries you up the stairs.

“remember, no hot water.” you hum as rafe sets you down in the chair he dragged into the bathroom just for you, not wanting you to have to stand while doing your makeup or brushing your teeth.

“i know.” rafe laughs softly, having learned everything about pregnancy in order to help you. he leans down over the chair, hands on either arm. “but thanks for the reminder, beautiful.”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into another kiss. the bath will have to wait.

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kyletogaz · 3 days

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mdni

idk something about getting fucked in price’s office

cw: p in v sex

“you have to be quiet, love,” john says while he has you bent over his desk with your skirt up and panties wrapped around one of your ankles as he bullies his cock into your sopping cunt.

you’ve got your face smushed into the wooden desk, drool leaking out of your mouth as you wail softly at the delicious sensation of john’s cock dragging against your spongy walls.

“i’m trying,” you manage to choke out between whines.

you’re gripping the desk for dear life as john’s hips smack into your ass with every harsh thrust. he’s tearing your shit up and all you can do is lie there and take it.

“try harder,” he snaps out as he tugs you back and forth on his cock, his grip on your hips damn near bruising. “if you can be a good girl and shut that pretty little mouth of yours, daddy’ll let you cum on his cock. can you do that for me?”

you croak out an incoherent reply that must be good enough for john, because he drives his cock deeper into your cunt, making you whimper softly. he’s tossing you around his desk like a goddamn rag doll but you don’t care. you want to cum on john’s cock. you can be quiet for daddy. you can be a good girl.

“f-fuck,” you hiss as one particular thrust has the desk digging into your pelvis.

“what did i say, sweetheart?” john asks as he pulls out then slams his cock back into your hole. “do i need to stuff your mouth?”

you let out a soft cry with a frantic shake of your head.

“make another sound and i’ll do it,” he snarls as he ruts into you with a low groan. “cunt’s so wet and so goddamn tight. i could stay inside of you forever.”

you whine in response to his words as you push your ass back against him. “please,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear you.

but john does hear you. and the next thing you know, your panties are being stuffed in your mouth. you let out a muffled sound of disbelief at his audacity. you can’t do shit about it though, as he laughs in your ear at your displeasure. john’s laugh sends a shiver up your spine. it’s soft and dangerous, a warning.

if he wasn’t hitting your g-spot and knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust, you’d be indignant. but that’ll never happen. john has every intention to fuck you stupid, and it’s working as the thoughts leave your head.

“nothing to say now, huh?” john asks, his voice mocking as he leans over to look at your face. he lets out a soft groan when he sees your dazed expression. “just look at you taking my cock like you were made for it.”

your grip on john’s desk tightens when his thrusts become frenzied. you can feel your wet cunt clenching around john as he drives his cock in and out of you. all you can do is wail around your panties when you feel that familiar sensation building. you’re so close to getting what you want. you let out a muffled shriek when john’s meaty fingers rubs at your clit in sync with his thrusts. and then it’s all too much. your orgasm knocks the wind out of you as your cunt spasms around john’s cock. and then he’s covering your body with his, as he pants and moans in your ear like a whore while he fucks into you and chases his nut.

when john cums inside of you, he never fucking stops. you can feel his cock pulsing inside of you with every thick rope of cum he shoots out. when he pulls out of you, finally, you remove your panties from your mouth. you whine when john strokes a hand down your back.

“you okay, baby?”

“i can feel myself leaking all over your floor, john,” you hiss at him. “i can’t believe you shoved these in my mouth.”

you flung your wet panties right at john’s face, then let out a groan of disgust when he stuffed them in his back pocket.

“i should make you eat your own cum out of my pussy as punishment for putting panties in my mouth.”

“spread your legs then.”

a/n: uhh 😵‍💫

#girl what is this 🫢🫠#captain john price #john price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #john price x black reader #john price smut #kyletogazwrites

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cobaltperun · 1 day

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Breathless

Bottom Tara Carpenter x top female Reader (Smut, minors DO NOT interact)

Strap-on, Reader being kinda dom? Slight overstimulation, usual stuff really.

Right, much like Lost in your eyes this is basically Lost 19.5 (It also happens before the first flashback scene of Lost 20) though, as long as you ignore the few details it can be read as a stand-alone.

Lost Masterlist

Word count: 2.4k

It’s been almost two months since Bailey tried to kill your family, since you nearly bleed out due to stab wounds and a rusty rebar going through you. You survived, and you were recovering at a fairly good pace, but it was a close call, too close for both your and Tara’s liking.

Your eyes still glanced down at the scar from the rebar when you stepped out of the shower. It came in through your lower back and went diagonally, exiting your body just beneath your chest and it was nothing short of a miracle that nothing important was damaged and that only the scar remained. Sighing, you grabbed your clothes and put them on, a comfortable shirt that was a bit loose on you now, since you still haven’t regained all of your muscles, and tracksuit pants since you wanted to just relax with Tara.

The moment you joined Tara in your bedroom she threw her arms around you and pulled you into a kiss. She clutched the back of your shirt and ran her fingers through your hair, tugging gently as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, and you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her as close to you as physically possible.

"So needy," you chuckled when she pulled back for a moment, a string of saliva still connected your and Tara’s lips.

"Like you aren't?" she challenged, looking fiercely into your eyes and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the look in her eyes.

It’s been a bit too long, between your busy schedule before all of you were attacked, and then your recovery and all the other things that required your and Tara’s attention it’s easily been two months since you last made love. "Mhm, I definitely am," you admitted as you leaned down, kissing her neck.

"Baby," she moaned when you nipped at the side of her neck and you immediately pulled back, looking at her wide-eyed. Tara blushed but kept looking at you. "Baby, please," she said again, acting as if she never stopped saying that word all the while gently caressing the back of your neck.

"Say it again," you demanded, lifting her up, taking a few steps to the side and pushing her against the wall. You could feel her pressing her body against yours and wrapping her legs around you. You looked at her face, at her lower lip stuck between her teeth as her cheeks turned dark red.

"Baby," she moaned into your ear as you unbuttoned the top buttons of her, previously your, button-up shirt and yanked it down, and since it was way too big for her it just fell from her shoulders.

"Again, Love," you needed to keep hearing her say it.

"Baby!" she cried out, maybe even a bit too loudly as you began kissing her bare shoulders and tugging the straps of her bra down, but with the shirt still on it was a bit of a hustle to do what you wanted.

“I need you,” you hissed, desperate for her consent to take it further, to strip her in every sense of that word, to make love to her and make her cum until either of you couldn’t take it anymore.

Tara made you lift your head up and looked you in the eyes. “Yeah? So do something about it, fuck me hard,” she pulled you in for a brief, passionate kiss. “Harder than ever befo-oh fuck, Y/N!” she cried out, gasping as you unzipped her jeans and slipped your hand into her panties.

Taking her jeans off would take too much time, taking any bit of her clothing would take too much time, and you didn’t want to spend one extra second without Tara coming undone in your arms. You hastily unbuttoned the shirt just enough to lift her bra up. And you lifted her up higher so you didn’t have to lean down too much to pull her nipple between your lips. “Damn you’re wet,” you hissed, her walls tightening around your fingers the moment you slipped them inside. The slight discomfort and awkward position of your hand didn’t matter, not when Tara was arching her back, digging her fingers into our hair and back.

“All for you, Baby, Only for-“ she gasped when you began rubbing her clit. “Don’t edge me, please, just keep fucking me,” she cried out, covering her mouth to silence the lustful sounds coming from her mouth.

You pinned her hand to the side of her head. “None of that,” you rasped, smirking when you felt how tight she suddenly got. “Oh, you like that?”

Tara nodded, not trusting her voice. She wailed, her moans and cries of pleasure covering up the wet sounds of your fingers pumping into her. She nearly threw her head back against the wall, she would have, if you didn’t put your hand on the back of her head to cushion the impact. “Please, please let me cum,” she pleaded, already desperate. “Please,” she repeated, her legs trembling and even in the lustful haze you knew she couldn’t keep them wrapped around you for much longer. And you were out of hand.

“Cum for me,” but you wanted her to cum just like this, pinned to the wall with three fingers pumping in and out of her while your thumb rapidly rubbed her clit. She bit her lip again and you pressed your thumb against it. Without thinking, without the two of you ever doing it before, Tara opened her mouth and sucked on your thumb. Her eyes, clouded by lust, met your own and she whimpered, her entire body convulsing and her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“That’s it, Love,” you whispered softly, pulling your thumb out of her mouth so you could keep her body up as she slumped against you. “I got you,” you gently kissed her neck as your own high and lust-fueled haze passed. You focused on Tara’s deep breaths, on her body still occasionally twitching in your arms and the quiet whines as you slipped your fingers out of her pussy and just gently rubbed her to help her calm down.

“Again, please,” Tara wasn’t interested in slowing down though, as she tried to incite you to keep going. “It’s not enough,” she was breathing heavily, close to gasping for air, but she needed more. She needed your fingers, tongue, your strap, she needed your skin against her own, your weight on top of her, or however you wanted to take her, as long as you kept going until all she could feel and sense was you. “Please, Baby,” she kissed you neck, biting you slightly as she tried to push your buttons again.

“You sure you don’t need to catch your breath?” oh she loved you, but she needed you to be rough, not gentle.

“Don’t slow down, don’t stop, just keep going until I can’t even say your name,” her voice was shaky from the orgasm you just gave her, but she uttered those words with as much conviction and desire as she possibly could.

Your eyes narrowed and her heart threatened to skip a beat, there it was again, that same wild look you had on before she came. “You know how to stop me,” se swooned at that, one word would stop everything, even if she never used it before, and she knew she wouldn’t need to do it this time either.

You pushed away from the wall and pulled your hand out of Tara’s panties so you could carry her to the bed and grab the strap-on along the way. For now, you just let it lay on the bed, just reminding Tara of what was coming as you laid her down on the bed as well. She looked completely disheveled, her bra skewed and lifted above her breasts, the shirt barely bunched up, wrinkled and barely being held closed over her belly by two buttons threatening to fall off, and her jeans, soaked through. “Damn, Tara,” you were tempted to leave her just like this, to just pull her jeans down enough to fuck her. You took a deep breath and unbuttoned the last two buttons, and somehow, the flushed cheeks and disheveled hair won you over to just leave her like this. You just pulled her jeans and panties down about half-way down her thighs and looked her in the eyes.

She was tingling with anticipation, not sure how you were going to continue this, she just knew she was fine with anything you wanted. And if that, apparently, meant she’d keep her clothes on, then so be it.

“On your hands and knees, turn toward the mirror” you ordered, and Tara felt her clit throbbing, she could definitely get used to this side of you. She turned around and placed a pillow in front of her, just in case. She waited, not daring to look behind or at the mirror, but she heard you preparing the strap and, as sneakily as she could, slipped her hand between her legs and began rubbing while burying her face in the pillow, your pillow. She was so wet, ready for you to fuck her as she bit your pillow to silence her moans.

“So impatient,” you chastised her, your hands caressing her ass and thighs, while reaching around her to keep her hand in place. “Keep doing that,” you whispered, kneeling behind her and spreading her legs as much as her jeans allowed you to. She shivered as you kissed her thighs, one after another until finally reaching her pussy, but you didn’t aim to make her cum, you were just cleaning her up a bit, just tasting her and moaning against her opening. “Are you ready?” you asked, and she nodded quickly.

“Yes!” she gasped, knowing you wanted her to say it.

You didn’t reply, you just pulled her fingers away from her pussy and slowly pushed the strap in. You started slow, like you always did, especially since it’s been a while since she last had anything aside from her fingers inside her, but you went deeper than she was used to. “Baby,” she sighed, opening her eyes and looking at the mirror, at the focused look on your face as you watched her face in the mirror, drunk on the pleasure she wasn’t even trying to hide. You leaned over her, pumping faster while reaching under her to grasp her breasts while your other hand moved from her thigh, underneath her shirt and across her side, just caressing her, slowly building her up again with no intention of edging her this time. And as much as she loved being edged by you she loved this just as much. The pace getting faster, your thrusts harder, as her back arched and her lungs struggled to get oxygen.

Yet, she didn’t panic, she had complete faith in you as she only focused on reaching that high from before. Once again she buried her face in your pillow, making it even harder to breathe, but she just couldn’t hold her body up anymore. Instead she once again began rubbing her clit, her moans becoming less and less audible. And then, her faith in you paid off, as you lifted her upper body up and her lungs filled with air.

“Breathe, Love,” you reminded her, kissing her neck as you sped up. You hugged her tightly, buried your face in her hair and swallowed hard. Her now free hand reached behind her, touching your chin and making you look her in the eyes and she came undone. “Keep going?” you still asked.

“Please,” she gasped, turning back to the mirror to look at the two of you. Her face turned red when she watched the dripping strap repeatedly penetrate her.

“See how good you’re taking me?” you asked, kissing her neck and reaching down to spread her lips slightly. “I’m not going to stop, don’t worry,” you assured her.

She finally saw exactly what you saw before, her open button-up shirt with over half the buttons torn off. Drops of her cum dripping down to her panties, you standing behind her, holding her protectively as she raced toward her third orgasm. You must have gotten tired of her shirt, because you pulled it off her along with her bra and she saw just how flushed her skin was. Her nipples still glistened from your saliva, erect and desperate for your attention, so she grabbed your hands and pulled them to her breasts, sighing in content as you got the message and rubbed her nipples between your fingers.

And in that moment, with her head thrown back on your shoulder, when all she could feel was you, she tried, so, so, desperately, to utter your name. “Y-“ she tried, she really did, barely getting the first letter of your name out before she whimpered, rolling her hips back to meet your every thrust. “Daddy,” she gasped eventually, the slip of the tongue paying off as you sped up. She could feel you tensing behind her, you were close, just as close as she was. “Make me cum,” she pleaded, gasping when she once again came around your strap.

“Say that again,” you tightly closed your eyes.

“Daddy!” her mind still didn’t catch up with the way she was calling you, too lost in pleasure to care for what she was saying, she just knew it had effect on you as you pulled out, removed her ruined jeans and panties and buried your tongue deep inside her, prolonging her orgasm just enough to truly make her unable to breathe, even as you lied her down on the bed.

“Can’t,” she gasped, and it was as if she pulled a switch as you slowed down, only doing enough to slowly bring her down from her high, and she smiled at that. For the first time you actually made her stop you, and she couldn’t have been happier and more satisfied. “Please,” she muttered as you came up and pecked her lips with a smile on your face. You raised an eyebrow but then she pointed toward her inhaler, just so she could get her breathing under control faster. You truly, absolutely, left her breathless.

A/N: Somehow I have no idea if this is any better or worse than the first one. That's what I get for trying to write smut I guess.

Taglist: @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #scream #jenna ortega x reader #bottom tara carpenter #top reader

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 2 days

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“flu season” - hotch stops by to check on you while you’re home sick (hotch x bau!gn!reader), 1.7k words

cw; mentions of canonical violence, icky sickies, and yearning teehee

———————

You have the flu.

You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus.

You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus, and you hate feeling helpless, but you can’t even walk to the bathroom and back without feeling dizzy.

There’s a waste basket by the bed, lined with a plastic grocery bag. There are four glasses of water, varying in stages of fullness, littered on the nightstand. Your blinds are open because yesterday you wanted to see the sun, but you were too exhausted later in the day to close them.

Your phone is ringing. You’re groggy, the whole world feeling hazy and heavy, as you lift it from the space in bed beside you and see a call from your boss. When you called Hotch two days ago and told him you were ill, he was incredibly patient with you. Don’t worry about work. Get some rest, he said. Check in so we know you’re okay. Let us know if you need anything.

You answer the phone on the last ring, and a hoarse, weak voice that is not yours exits your throat. “Hello?”

“Y/N,” Hotch sounds relieved. Did he think you were dead or something? It’s only the stomach flu. He also never calls you by your first name, which only makes you concerned that something else is gruesomely wrong. “Did you see my calls?”

You put him on speaker and check your call history. Aaron Hotchner has called you four times in the past six hours. You missed every single one, having drifted in and out of consciousness all day long.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t. Is everything okay?” You ask, thinking something must have happened to him or to one of your teammates. Why else would he be desperate to reach you when you’re home sick?

“Well, you tell me,” Hotch exhales, an incredulous chuckle lining his voice. The phone muffles the sound, but you know that if you heard it in person, it would sound symphonic. “I was just checking on you, Y/N. I know you’re new to the city.” You sit up a little in bed, as if he were in front of you. “How are you feeling?”

You run a clammy hand over your sweaty forehead. “Hot,” you blurt out.

“Excuse me?” Hotch laughs.

“Hot, like… like a fever. Like I’m running a…” you shake your head at yourself, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. “Sick. I feel sick, very sick.”

“What kind of sick?”

What kind of sick? Why would he ask you that? You lean back against the headboard and wonder if he’s trying to determine if you’re faking to get out of work, or if he’s genuinely concerned. You’ve only been with the BAU for a few months, but you feel like you’ve gotten to know everyone fairly well so far. You decide Hotch must just be genuinely concerned. You roll through your symptoms, and Hotchner clears his throat when you’re done speaking.

“Do you feel strong enough to get to your door?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Because I’m here. Outside your door.”

“What?”

Hotch lets out a breathy laugh, one that seems almost in disbelief of his own actions. “If you don’t want company, I’ll leave, but I thought you might need a hand. I’ve been sick and alone before. It’s not fun.”

You feel your heart swell a little as you recall what Emily has told you about Hotch. You get little snippets about him from Emily, and from what you understand, he and his ex-wife were painfully separated for a while before she was murdered. You wonder if he was ever stuck at home, ill, during that period of time.

Hotch says your surname. “Are you still there?”

“What? Yes. Yes! I’m sorry,” you huff, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The thought of planting your feet on the ground, however, has you already feeling nauseous. “I don’t, uh… I don’t think I can make it to the door, though,” you squeak. “There’s a spare key under the doormat. But I really look gross, Hotch. And I might be contagious. So, enter at your own risk.”

“I don’t mind, L/N. You keep a key under the - oh, yes, there it is,” you hear Hotch fumble to juggle the key and his phone, and after a moment of static - his hand over the microphone - he hangs up, and you hear the front door of your apartment creak open. “Y/N?” He calls out.

“In here,” you croak, scrambling under the covers and desperately brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes.

Hotch is standing in the doorway in an instant, still in his suit and tie. You glance at your phone and conclude he must have left work directly to come here. “How do you know where I live?” You mumble as he lifts a full grocery bag.

“Personnel file,” he shrugs. “How’s your fever?”

You notice he’s lingering in the doorway. He’s waiting to be invited in. “You don’t have to have a warrant,” you smile weakly and beckon him into your bedroom, a lame attempt at humor.

He exhales in amusement, and you see the smile on his face - light and mild, and you wonder, if you weren’t sick, would it have been a grin?

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hotch says as he steps slowly into the room, taking a cold bottle of Gatorade from the grocery bag and setting it on your nightstand. He starts gathering the cups of water into one arm.

“You don’t have to do that,” you protest, feeling embarrassed of your mess. “Hotch-“

“It’s Aaron, outside of work,” he corrects you, and you see a flash of his teeth. “And you didn’t answer my question. How’s your fever?”

You swallow. “High? I guess?” You say dumbly.

A warm hand is pressed against your forehead and you are once again very aware of how clammy it is. “When was the last time you took something?” He asks.

You check the time again, then do the math in your head. “Five hours ago.”

“Where’s your medicine?” He asked. You shift in the bed, to stand up, and Hotch - Aaron’s - hand is on your shoulder. “Stay in bed. I’ll get it. Where is it?”

“Bathroom cabinet,” you point to the bathroom. You want to protest further. You want to apologize for the mess, to ask him why he’s doing this, to ask him if he’d do this for anyone else. But you keep your mouth shut, instead rubbing the space between your brows as the inevitable headache kicks in.

Aaron’s quickly out of your bedroom. You hear him walk into the kitchen, a few cabinets open and shut, and then he’s in your bathroom, same thing, opening and closing a cabinet. He comes back to you with a few crackers on a plate, a fresh glass of water, and your flu medicine.

“So, let’s talk about why you think it’s a good idea to keep a spare key under the mat,” Aaron proposes as you take the medicine. You nearly choke on the water in your mouth, but manage to down it. His face gives him away - he’s not mad, not even disappointed, just smirky. Teasing and playful were not words you would use to describe Aaron Hotchner.

Until right now.

You open your mouth to speak, but Aaron cuts you off. “You spend your whole week working gory murders, kidnappings, terrorist threats. You know that the key under the mat is the oldest trick in the book. Why do you do it?” He asks, leaning against the wall beside your bed.

“You can sit, if you want?” You offer, pointing to the desk chair in the corner. “Your legs must be tired from hanging out up there on that high horse.”

Hotch just lets a low chuckle escape him as he rolls the desk chair over. He keeps a respectful distance from your bed, but still crosses his ankles and leans back, like he’s sat there a thousand times. Like he’s somehow comfortable. He looks at you expectantly, as if to say don’t make me ask again.

“Well,” you feel a bit sheepish, because he is right. Keeping a key under your doormat is pretty dumb. “I guess I figure, most people are smart enough to not do it, so the kidnappers and rapists would assume I would be smart enough, too, so they wouldn’t even look under the mat.”

Aaron’s expression is priceless, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “I’ll just give a spare to someone I trust, how about that?” You suggest, knowing intuitively that the lecture was only going to continue.

Aaron gives you a nod of approval, and you lean back against the headboard again, stifling a yawn. “I can go, if you want to rest some more?” he proffers, rising from his seat.

“You don’t have to,” you say quickly, uncontrollably. The words were locked and loaded in your throat before you could think twice. “I mean, I’m probably going to fall asleep soon, but I wouldn’t mind the company. For a little while.”

You wonder how visibly red your face is.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alive,” Aaron chuckles, his polite, subtle way of declining your invitation, of making sure boundaries are still intact. You know Hotchner is a rule-follower. You admire that about him. “I’ll let you get some rest,” his hand extends, as if to reach out to you. You wonder if he’s going to touch you. His hand retracts after a moment that seems to last for an eternity.

As Aaron walks towards the bedroom door, he turns around and smiles at you. It’s a real smile. It’s soft. You want to press it like a flower petal, between two book pages, and keep it in a jar on your bookshelf.

“I brought you some soup for when you feel up to eating. It’s in your refrigerator,” he says. He taps his hands against the door frame. “Feel better, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you.”

Aaron Hotchner leaves your apartment a minute later, and you fall asleep shortly after that. Your head is still pounding, and your stomach is twisted in knots, but it’s not from the nausea.

#basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch blurb #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #hotch fic #hotch fluff #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic

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sometimesliterate · 12 hours

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blade, ratio, gallagher, sampo, welt yang, and nanook with a shorter s/o

yeah !!! i'm trying something new-ish !! its all mostly fluffy, gallagher's is slightly suggestive and so is welt's. keep in mind of course that they'll all love you regardless and theyre just giants, so you could be like damn near six foot and still be shorter than them. this aint just for 5'0 people ( although it was written by a shortie so,,, yeah ) GENDER NEUTRAL READER !!!

BLADE —

oh you're shorter than him ?

honestly he doesn't even notice half of the time

it's not like he's always searching for someone who's shorter than him so he can take care of them or whatever

it was just life that you were shorter than him and he wasn't really one to make a fuss about anything

but that doesn't mean that he's absolutely immune to your charms, in any case

sometimes he sees that you're struggling with something and that he can help you

other times he finds you to be rather useful yourself

especially when trying to hide when out on a mission, he finds that your height allows you to be a little bit more conspicuous than him

something that he doesn't necessarily mention, but you've come to expect it at this point

if you're out on a mission together, you can best believe that you're the one sneaking into wherever you are while blade is laid low behind you ready to strike if you failed

he'll always always always praise you for your efforts and your abilities to hide in plain sight from others

not necessarily your height, but just your skills in general

sometimes if you have the time to be a little slow with how you moved about, he'd pull you closer and give you a little kiss on the top of your head

affection wasn't necessarily his thing, but if you were doing such a good job helping him, who was he to deny you

you were putting your life down on the line for the mission. this was something that he never took for granted, even though he often went in head first without caring because he didn't have to put down his life for elio's path. he was actively going down this path to reach that finality, but you weren't. you forced him to go about missions with more finesse, because he was absolutely terrified of failing you. often, he would be there as a backup, ready to spring in at a moment's notice if you needed him to be there. you were shorter than him, so you were usually tasked with infiltration, just like now. you could clearly see the goal - it was right there in reach. but of course, with many things, there was also guards hanging around the area, protecting the gem and keeping you at arm's length away from it. of course, blade wanted to cut everyone down and just take it by force, but he knew that wasn't how you did things, and that cutting them down would mean that there was a high chance that more guards would come running. and he couldn't bring himself to put you in that kind of danger, so he let you make a plan in your head. he watched as you snuck past the guards, using things that would show his taller, larger form as a perfect hiding spot for yourself. when you snatched the gem right under their noses, and you came back to him, he couldn't stop himself from grinning a little bit. " good job, " blade whispered once you were in a private area together, allowed some time off. " maybe your height helps you out in certain situations. " " yea- hey ! are you calling me short ? " " yes, " he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. " but it's cute. you're cute. " you let out a quiet little sigh, but you eventually wrapped your arms around him, feeling the man stiffen up in your arms at the sudden contact, but he soon melted within your touch. " mm. whatever you say, bladie. i just don't think you'd be very good at sneaking around. " he chuckled, sitting his head on the top of your head. " i think you're right about that. "

RATIO —

ratio does not and will not care about your height

your physical attributes were never what attracted him to you in the first place

although you being so attractive definitely helped, but he wouldn't openly admit that unless you held him by gunpoint

he liked the breath of fresh air that you brought into his life

how vibrant and charming you were, effortlessly piercing through his walls with such expertise he almost didn't want to trust it at first

but he still treated you how he treated most people, including scolding you when you did something wrong, and scowling when you suggested something that he didnt want to do

however, there was one thing you could do that made him fold ever single time

the way you looked up at him through your pretty lashes, pouting as you tilted your head up to look at him and whispered your little apology

you just looked so.. cute like that, he can't stop himself from letting out a fake sigh of annoyance before telling you not to do it again and ultimately letting you have your way

there was nothing he could do against you, he had no defenses to protect himself against your pouting

especially when you had to tilt your head so high up just to look at him

if he didn't know better he would be sure that you did this one purpose just to get your way

ratio called your name once from downstairs, and you froze immediately in place, knowing that tone in his voice. he was disappointed in you for something, and you weren't sure what it was, but you were sure that you would get your ear chewed out and that you would get another lecture on your behavior. you debated on whether or not you should just give up easily and listen to him, and resign yourself to listening to his lecture, or you could pretend to be asleep and get out of his disappointment for just a little while, but ratio was not a man who forgot, and you knew that well by now. no matter how much you wanted to run, you knew that you had to own up to what you did. after he called you the second time, you slowly walked downstairs, finding him in the living room, his legs crossed as he read a book, his reading glasses on. " you called me, love ? " you asked nervously, sitting beside him. " are you forgetting something important ? " ratio closed his book, resting his head on his hand that sat on the armchair as he looked at you, his eyes narrowed. you thought a moment, before your eyes widened, and you rushed into the kitchen. you'd completely forgotten that you were baking some cupcakes ! what happened ? you found them already taken out, cooling on top of the oven. " o-oh no, i'm so sorry, ratio- " you apologized profusely. you turned around, just to find him right behind you, his eyes trained on yours. " your little mistake could've ended badly, " ratio shook his head, and you could feel the guilt creeping up into you, knowing that you had messed up, and now you were paying for it. " you're very lucky i had an eye on it. " you pouted, feeling both embarrassed and guilty that you'd forgotten something like this, feeling like you were about to cry, the hot tears welling in your eyes. you looked up at him through your lashes, unsure how to convey your sincere regret. " i'm so sorry, veritas. " ratio stiffened for a moment, looking into your eyes, and he felt his resolve crumble. he couldn't be mad at you when you looked up at him like that. his hand found its way on the side of your cheek, gently caressing the side of your face. " just.. don't do it again, okay ? "

GALLAGHER —

oh man he thinks you're cute

your height was just part of your charm

it wasn't necessarily a make or break thing where you were required to be shorter than him

but he had to admit.. you were absolutely adorable when you wanted something from him

particularly when you wanted to kiss him, and the lengths that you would go to get a kiss from him

( one that he was willing to give you, but he would make you work for it a little first. he's a tease like that )

he'd watch you with his arms crossed as you looked up at him and asked him for a kiss

and when he would say come get it, you would stand up on your tippy toes and try to kiss him

but he would just lean backwards so you couldn't reach him

then you would pout, and your brain would think about all that you could do to get that kiss that you so desperately want from him

sometimes you were silly with it, sometimes you weren't

sometimes you would grab one of the bar stools and use that to add to your height to kiss him

sometimes you would just grab him by his collar and pull him down for a kiss

sometimes you would use your charm to get him to cave and finally give you what you wanted

it really just depended on the day, something that he was always eager to find out

" gallagher, " you called out, approaching him from behind the bar, waving at him excitedly. he looked up at you, his hands busied as he cleaned the rocks glasses, the towel in his hand buffing out any fingerprints on the pristine glasses, making them look just as perfect as penacony itself. you'd come to share some good news with him about your own job, but the way his messy hair was in his face made your heart swell just a little bit, and you smiled, looking up at him through your lashes. he knew exactly what you wanted without you even asking, and all gallagher did was hum in response. " sorry, honey, i'm a lil busy right now, " his gaze flickered from the glass in his hands to you, and then back to the glass. " maybe you'll get a kiss later, yeah ? " you pouted, hoping that you wouldn't have to go through this again, but also secretly rather enjoying this little game that the two of you played. you leaned forward, your hand on his shoulder for support as you tried to kiss him, but he just leaned away from you with a small chuckle escaping his chest. " maybe later, babe. " he shrugged you off, and you just let out a loud sigh. " come on, pleasseee ? " you begged a little, before finally deciding that, fine. he can have it his way. you knew the bar would be closing soon, and that no one would be in, probably. so you just hopped on top of the bar, your hand holding onto his shirt to keep him close, your legs spread slightly so he was as close as possible. " i've got to close the bar, " gallagher tried to half-heartedly tried to reason with you, but his hands were already gripping the bar beneath you, and he was already leaning in for a kiss, his lips grazing over your lips. " you know better than this. " the glasses, you figured, could be cleaned later.

SAMPO —

haha what a loser

imagine being shorter than the great sampo koski

your height is something that he will point out every single chance he gets

ooh he's so much bigger and stronger than you, of course you needed him

it only made sense that you were dating him, he was soooo perfect for you in every way

yeah it helped his ego, and yeah he wasn't going to let it go easily

no matter how much you pouted and complained about his inflated ego and sense of self worth

he would dramatically announce that he was going to do something for you

practically declaring to the world how thankful and loving you should be that he was so benevolent to do these things for you

he's just looking for some praise and a little attention, something that you both knew well

and if you point out how much he just craves your recognition, he'd turn into a sopping wet cat

sampo did the thing for you !! you should say thank you and give him a kiss !!

that's how relationships are supposed to work and he did the thing that he was supposed to do

its only natural that he would want a reward for all of his efforts

even if he spent the last thirty minutes teasing you about your height

" you're just so short, " sampo teased, playfully ruffling your hair as the two of you walked down the streets of belobog while you glanced down at the map in your hands, looking for what you had assumed would be a wild goose chase because sampo said that if you found it, it would make the two of you rich beyond belief. of course, there was a solid chance that it was something that he stole and he was just using this as an excuse to be close to you for a little while. seriously, what are you going to do with him sometimes ? you sighed, shaking your head to shrug off his hand from your head, trying not to get frustrated with him, but he made it so hard sometimes. especially with his nonstop teasing and jokes, like he knew that he was getting on your nerves and yet he continued to do exactly what he was doing regardless. " sampo, are you required to make fun of me every single second of every day ? " " come on, now, doll, i'm not making fun of you ! i'm just pointing out a fact ! you need me, right ? you need me and you can't live without me, and you love me so much. " sampo shot you a cheeky little grin, making your face heat up just a little bit. he was right, but he didn't have to say it like that. " samp- " just as you began to speak, the map you were holding blew out of your hands with a strong gust of wind, flying high up in the air, far too high for you to catch it, even though you did try to reach for it. sampo, however, grabbed the map with ease, oh-so gently place it back into your hands. " see, my point is proven by the winds themselves ! you need me to help you when things fly out of your hands ! " sampo declared victoriously, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side while he walked. you let out an audible sigh, but leaned into him, deciding that he had done well enough. " thank you, sampo. although, we're putting this little treasure hunt on hold, and we're going to grab a snack. i'm hungry, and i have a sneaking suspicion that we aren't going to be rich by the end of the day. "

WELT YANG —

welt does his absolute best not to point out the height difference between the two of you

he knew that sometimes height was a sensitive point so he wouldn't say anything that he thought would bring you discomfort

although, secretly, it's a point of endearment from you

especially when he has to help you out with things, like reaching the top shelf or picking you up a little bit so you could see over a crowd

it made him feel useful and helpful, a feeling that he loved

he liked that you didn't hesitate to ask him when you needed help, no matter what it was

because you were his partner, and he loved you dearly

he'd do anything that you needed him to do, happily

but his absolute favorite thing was when he does things for you without you asking

and then he gets to see your happy face beaming at him while you said thank you

and, as a reward for his kindness, maybe you'll stand up on your tippy toes

and use his shoulders to keep yourself steady as you kiss his cheek

and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to wrap his arms around you and pull you in for more kisses

what ? he doesn't indulge in himself all too often, he deserves it sometimes, he thinks

the astral express had stopped at a world just for a little while to have a small break. after the events of the last world, you all desperately needed some time to rest and take your minds off of these things. the three trailblazer kids were all out and about, no doubt getting into some trouble no matter how many times someone told them just to enjoy their stays. himeko had left to go ' check up on the coffee shops in town ' as she put it, but you were nearly sure it was just to give you and welt some time to spend together alone, since it very rarely happened. there was almost always someone that you had to take care of within the express, and he always had something else to do, too. not that either one of you minded, since you truly did love everyone on the express. you were up early, making a cake for everyone for when they came back. you knew welt was still in the bedroom, probably just waking up. you had made the cake pretty much on your own, there was just one thing that you needed, that you couldn't find no matter how hard you were looking. you just needed to find some candles to make it look special. who cares if it wasn't a birthday ? you finally found them on the top shelf, and you were almost out of options, about to just climb up on the counters to get it. when welt's body pressed up against yours from behind, his hand on your shoulder as he reached up and grabbed the candles you were wanting. " were you looking for this ? " he asked, handing it to you. " yeah ! thank you, you're the best ever. " despite him just giving them to you, you sat the little package down, leaning against his chest, your hands holding onto his arms. " whatever would i do without you ? " " climb up on the shelf to grab the candles, " welt joked softly, leaning down to bury his face in your shoulder, gently kissing the smooth skin. you laughed softly, turning around in the man's arms to face him, your back pressed against the counter. " mm. yeah, you're right. i could've died. " you stood up on your tippy toes, your arms wrapped around his shoulder as you kissed him gently on his cheek. " thank you, welt. for looking after me. " welt hummed, his hand moving up from your waist to your cheek, tilting your head up so he could press a hungry kiss on your lips. you had a little while until anyone was back home, and you two had an idea how you could spend that time while the cake was baking in the oven.

NANOOK —

to be quite fair,, they're an aeon

everything is going to be shorter than them

you could be the tallest person of your race and you would still be an ant to them as long as they were showing themself as the aeon of destruction

for you, though, it was more often that they had a shorter, more human form

with a little less golden blood dripping down their torso, and a little more legs

unfortunately for you, you were shorter than them in this form, too

who would've guess that they'd be huge even in their human form

they don't really care honestly because they feel like mortals like you should be shorter than them anyways

like a fucked up power play kind of thing

they're a god, you're not. of course you should be shorter than them

they're a very serious being, and its very rare for them to crack any jokes

but they will sometimes use your head as an armrest while just talking normally to another

kinda like they were branding you as theirs ?

after all, who's going to mess with someone who the aeon of destruction is using as their armrest ?

they like how it annoys you, but you won't do anything about it

you'll just sit there and pout while they publicly claim you as theirs

" my liege, " phantylia the undying bowed at the presence of her aeon, a sight that almost no emanators go to see regularly. nanook was always doing something, always at the edge of a solar system ready to reign destruction upon it. to see nanook engaging in anything that wasn't ultimately tearing worlds apart with their bare hands was a rare sight indeed, especially for those who didn't travel the cosmos by their side. you would have to be unfortunate enough to come across them, as phantylia was now. when she picked her head up, she finally took notice of the small human standing next to the aeon, and she flinched for a second, as if she weren't expecting there to be anyone there. " oh- my liege, you have- " " company, yes, " they grumbled out, their large hand gesturing to you, although their words were cold as they regarded you. " do not bother to get acquainted. " phantylia nodded, immediately assuming that you were going to be killed by nanook, or they were forcing you to watch as they burned your home world. perhaps, even, forcing you to hold the lighter as they did so. she almost felt bad for you. almost. she wondered if she would be able to toy with you, too. surely nanook would indulge in one of their emanator's whims, no ? before she could voice her question, her eyes flitted towards nanook, and she noticed that they had their arm resting on your head, and your arms were crossing, looking up at them with a pout on your face. " nanook- " you whined, glaring at the taller aeon. " do i look like an armrest to you ? " " no. in fact, you look less than, " they commented dryly, their gaze turning to you, and phantylia swore she saw something akin to affection in his golden eyes. " but i suppose you offer me a little usefulness from time to time. " " all of this time travelling together and you still treat me like a little lapdog, " you shook your head, and although you were still frustrated with them, you turned to phantylia, giving her an almost warm smile. " sorry about that, they're... weird. it's nice to meet you. " the moment nanook's gaze fell upon her, and phantylia felt like she had been sliced through with a hundred blades just for talking to you, her heart retching in terror from the shear intimidation alone, she figured that it was better for her own self that she didn't answer you. when you were alone that day after phantylia left, you were in their arms, watching with mild amusement as people tried the craziest shit just to get their attention. " why do you do that every single time someone approaches us ? you're always picking fights with the people who probably have at least not horrible intentions. " what's mine is mine and i don't share, " they replied plainly, their attention focused elsewhere. " and there's no point in you introducing yourself again if they'll just be dead before you can remeet. "

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put-me-through-the-wall · 21 hours

Text

Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig it the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time.

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath.

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile.

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look.

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over.

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door.

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling.

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing.

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning."

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair.

"Can you hold this for a second?"

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh.

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors.

"Ladies first"

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself.

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator.

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course.

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though.

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter.

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become.

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you.

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request.

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke.

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze.

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh.

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes.

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter.

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley fic

162 notes · View notes

sturniologals · 3 days

Text

Make it up to you -m.s

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆

Dom!Matt x fem!reader

in which~ y/n had a crush on Matt but his friends/football teammates found out and teased you about it, he joined in on the teasing to hide the fact that he has feelings for you but six months later, you’re desperate for a ride to school and Matt is your only option.

warnings~ p in v/ unprotected (don’t be silly,wrap up your willy)/ use of baby, sweetheart, y/n, praise kink, cursing

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

I stretched my limbs as I tried to peel my eyes open from my sleepy state. "y/n! Hurry up!" My mom shouted at me, afraid id miss the bus.

"Frickity frickity Frick" I mumbled to myself as I looked over at my phone and saw the time reading 7:15, my bus runs in literally like 7 minutes, theres no way I was gonna make it. I opened up my contacts and called and texted at least five of my friends in hope that I could get a ride from one of them but I failed.

I clicked on my last contact I was going to try and started to call my friend Nick.

She answered and her soft voice spoke "Hey y/n!"

"Hey Nick! Is there any possible way that you could give me a ride to school today?" She hummed to herself as she thought about it.

"im sorry girl, Matt took my car today. He has some thing after school but I can call him. He should be able to pick you up!" He chimes.

"No no no, id rather walk. Thank you tho." I say before we bid our goodbyes and hang up.

I meant that, i really would rather walk. Matthew sturniolo has been my biggest enemy since last year, when I first started high school and became friends with Nick. I had an obvious crush on matt even though he was a bit older. His friends found out because matt overheard me talking to Nick about it one time and his friends started to tease me about it and eventually matt joined in and ever since then, they make jokes and poke fun at me anytime I see them.

"y/n! Why are you still in your fucking pajamas?" My mom says angrily from my door.

"Mom its okay, matt is gonna give me a ride!" I spurt out quickly, just not wanting to get into an argument with her.

“Matt? oh! It’s been forever since you guys have hung out.” My mom says, her mood quickly changing to a more joyous one. I roll my eyes at her words and she tells me she loves me before she leaves out for work.

I stand up and put on a pair of black jeans and a dark blue body suit that accentuates my body perfectly. I finish straightening my hair, my luscious blonde locks flowing perfectly down my shoulders. I sit down at my vanity and apply a few makeup products, really just mascara, and a bit of highlighter. Mid way through my routine, i remember i haven’t called Matt yet. My hands start to tremble a bit as i scroll through my contacts in search of his name.

I reluctantly click the call button under his name and the ringing of my phone makes me shudder. After just two rings, he picks up.

“Y/n?” His deep voice grumble from the speakers on my phone.

“Hi Matt! Can you give me a ride to school?” I say peppily, not wanting him to give me any shit.

“I’ll be there in five.” He says before hanging up.

well, that was easy. i think to myself before spritzing myself with some perfume and slipping on my shoes. I grab my bag and walk through my house.

I get to the front door and see trey pulling in.

perfect timing.

The sight of Matts truck parked in my driveway makes me nervous. I push the nervousness down, pulling all of the courage i have out of me and I start walking down my driveway.

Once i step out of my door, he immediately steps out of his truck and walks to the passenger side and opens the door up. He stands leaning on the door, a small smile on his face.

why is he being so fucking nice?

“Hi y/n.” He says in a seductive voice while his eyes trail over my body. The way he’s looking at me sends a heat straight to my core but i try my best to ignore it. I shoot Matt a side eye and a nod of my head as i step up into his truck. He places his hand on my lower back for support as i climb into his vehicle which has me crossing my legs in the passenger seat. Matt looks at me with a hungry look in his eyes as he shuts the door for me and walks over to the driver side.

He climbs into the seat and takes a deep breath in before turning the key over.

“Thanks for picking me up.” I say in the most nonchalant way that i can.

“Yeah, i mean- you haven’t talked to me in almost 6 months so i was surprised you’d wanted me to.” Matt says while looking at me, our eye contact holding strong.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” I say with a shrug of my shoulders and i can see the pain flash in his eyes as i finish my sentence off and i immediately feel bad.

“No- I didn’t mean-“ I start to correct myself but he cuts me off.

“I get it y/n. I really do- don’t apologize sweetheart. I’ve been an asshole to you for so long and i let my friends make jokes and i’m just- i’m so fucking sorry. I was a coward because you made me- feel things.” Matt spurts out, his confession surprising me but making my heart skip a beat and my pussy convulse at the name he called me.

“Matt-“ I start to speak but he cuts me off yet again.

“Can you come to my football game tonight?” He asks impatiently as he starts to pull out of my driveway.

“Matt, you know i hate going to school functions.”

“Please” He says quickly.

“Okay, i’ll be there.” I say reluctantly. I don’t even really know why he wants me there but it seems important so i agree.

The rest of the ride is silent, just Matt glancing at me every few minutes and at some point his large hands made their way to my knee, slowly trailing up my thigh as i squirmed around in my seat, Matt glancing at my neediness but his hand never moved to my heat.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Matt says as we pull up next to the busy school entrance.

“Aren’t you coming?” I ask him.

“I’ll be here later.” He says with a small smile as he unbuckles my seat belt for me and walks around to open my door. His truck is raised high off of the ground but Matt is so tall that his head is still up to my level when he’s standing on the ground in-front of me. He puts his hands around my waist and picks me up out of his truck. I giggle as he sits me down on the ground. He chuckles and tells me he’ll see me later.

As i walk into school, all that’s going through my head is Matt.

the things he said to me were definitely more than ‘friendly’

why is he being so nice?

is this another joke?

the way his hands were all over me tho…

sweetheart?

why does he want me at his game tonight?

i made him feel things?

what things?

i spend the rest of my school day and the whole ride home and the whole time i’m getting ready for the football game also thinking about Matt. The thoughts about him in my head are inevitably erotic and i genuinely can’t help it.

My mom drops me off at the game and i pull at the tight shorts on my legs as i hop out of the car. I walk up into the bleachers and i find a seat that gives me a perfect view of the field. Matt comes out of now where and runs up to the fence that separates us.

“c’mere!” he says loudly, i can see his friends behind him starting to laugh and i get nervous and all of memories of them poking fun at me make me sick and i want to run out of there.

“y/n baby, i said to come here.” Matt demands in a soothing yet firm voice that makes me feel safe. His friends behind him starts staring and looking confused. I am too but i listen to try and walk over to stand over the fence. His eye black is starting to smudge and his hair is tousled perfectly and i’m so close that i can smell his manly musk.

As soon as i’m standing slightly over Matt, he pulls his hands up to my head and pulls me down to him and immediately shoves his lips onto mine. The feeling of his mouth moving over mine is something i’ve wanted to feel for so fucking long. I groan into his mouth as his tongue slips into mine and i can taste the saltiness of his mouth and i’m

craving more. I audibly groan when he pulls away, his lips swollen and pink as he runs back to the field. His friends just staring at him angrily and confused as he flips them off and walks down the field with a smile on his face.

what the fuck just happened?

and why is his whole football team staring at me?

Matt yells at his friends from across the field.

“hey! shitheads! stop staring at my girl and get your asses down here.”

I get butterflies at him calling me ‘his girl’ but then i remember the months of teasing he let his friends do to me and i wipe the smile off of my face quickly. Maybe i should let myself enjoy this tho?

Throughout the whole game, my internal monologue argues with itself. By the end of the game, i decide i want to give him a chance. I believe what he told me. Matt sweaty figure runs up to the fence at the end of the game, they won of course. I’m clapping and smiling at Matt, his eyes looking directly into mine. He puts his arms out over the fence and motions for me to walk over. I do so and he puts his hands on my waist and picks me up over the fence and pulls me onto the field. I smile up at him and he immediately kisses me again.

His friends and even his coach “oooo”-ing at us as he gives me a desperate yet gentle kiss.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you showed up to my house with your fucking sparkly pink jump rope for cheer practice almost two years ago.” he whispers into my ear as he pulls away. My face goes red with embarrassment.

“You played good.” I say with a proud smile.

He flashes his white teeth at me before one of his friends, jacob, comes up behind Matt. i sigh and immediately get nervous because jacob was one of the main people who teased me. Matt looks over at jacob with sharp eyes, as if he’s warning him to not say anything to me. Jacob just smiles at me. “I’m sorry y/n, i was a dick to you and owen for a long time.”

I nod with a small thin lipped smile.

“you wanna get out of here sweetheart?” owen says to me. I nod my head and he smiles at me as he takes my hand and walks us out of the stadium.

as we walk through the busy parking lot, murmurs from people in our small town are heard.

“ew he’s like- old as fuck.”

“didn’t he literally bully her?”

i block out the noise, Matt squeezing my hand as a sign of comfort.

We get into his truck and i immediately look over at him. “Matt. why?”

he looks at me confusedly. “why what?”

“why did you want me to come tonight?” i ask timidly. He laughs out loud and i grow confused.

“you’re oblivious. I wanted you here tonight so i could kiss you in front of all of the assholes who used to give you shit.” he says with a genuine smile of happiness as he rubs his hand up and down my leg.

“Oh.” I say quietly as it clicks in my head. “Oh!” i say once i get it.

“cmon sweetheart it’s late. i’ll get you home.” Matt says as he reaches over to buckle my seatbelt for me, his long fingers grazing over my chest. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and heat grows between my legs as owen starts his truck and pulls out of the parking lot. His hand is resting on my thigh and quiet music plays, my window cracked slightly allowing some of the cold friday night breeze to flow through the cab of his truck. Every smidge of cold air that hits my skin makes me shudder. My body is extremely sensitive to the touch right now. I look over at owen and his dark eyes are trained on his hand that’s resting on my leg. “you’re so beautiful y/n.” Matt says in a low, seductive voice as his thumb draws circles on my inner thigh.

“pull over.” I say nervously, trying to muster up all of the courage that i have. Matt smirks, knowing what i want as he pulls over by an empty desolate park by some trees that offer a good enough coverage. As soon as he shifts into park, i immediately swing my legs over his lap so i’m straddling. My lips are on his in a hot, sweaty and passionate kiss. The smell of sweat and grass still on Matt makes me impossibly needier.

All of a sudden- Matt pulls my face back.

“Patience baby.” Matt says with an attractive chuckle.

“you’re not gonna fucking tease me all day and then tell me to have patience Matt.” i say firmly as i slowly start to rock my hips back and forth on him, making him groan out.

“oh- don’t- god, y/n.” he says as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes in pleasure as his eyebrows knit together.

“Nuh uh, you owe me six months worth of apologies. You’re gonna be the one making me feel good, yeah?” i say deviously as i cease my movements. Matt eyes open up and meet mine, a smile playing across his features as he laughs and nods his head yes.

“i guess you’re right about that one sweetheart.” he says as he quickly puts a hand on my back and turns me so my back is against the passenger door of his truck as he pulls my ankles up to his shoulders. I groan out as i arch my back needily.

“calm down pretty girl. let me take care of you.” he says softly as he pulls my shorts down my hips. His eyes clench shut together for a second. “you’re so perfect.” he praises as he starts to kiss up my thighs.

“Matt…” i moan out as he gets closer to my core.

he starts to kiss over my clothed cunt before slowly pulling my panties down.

“you’re so soaked. all because of me?” he speaks seductively as i bring my fingers up to his hair and pull his head closer to my pussy impatiently. He laughs out loud before licking a stripe up me which pulls a loud moan out of me. His tongue moves against me quickly and skillfully, pulling more and more noises from me.

“Oh you’re doing so good for me sweetheart.” He says against my cunt before ducking on my bundle of nerves.

“Matt- i’m gonna-“ i pant out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Finish in my mouth, let me taste you.” he says, which sends me over the edge, screaming his name as his head gets squeezed between my clenching thighs.

I pant out as i come down from my high as owen continues to lick me clean like a starved man.

“good?” he asks with an egotistical expression on his face.

“i’ve had better.” i say sarcastically with a shrug.

“Yeah i bet.” he says as he pulls my shorts back up my legs for me.

I sit up straight and fix my hair in his mirror before i buckle my seat belt and Matt starts to drive again.

“y/n” Matts deep voice speaks out, diverting my attention to him.

“hm?” I hum out.

“I love you.” he says with a small nervous smile on his face. My stomach immediately erupts in butterflies and a smile forms on my face.

“I love you too.” I say as i intertwine my fingers with his.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #chris sturniolo fanfic

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erwinsvow · 2 days

Note

i was thinking… what if they’re in topper’s jeep with the top off at a gas station and they’re parked over in the corner with a tree over the car so it’s darker (very descriptive but i have a vision🙏) and rafe and shy!reader are in the back seat waiting for them and she’s totally horny bc rafe is looking too good so she’s hanging on him practically in his lap and he’s like well you wanna be all over me you can suck it while you’re at it WOOF sorry😞

https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/750586177405485056/i-feel-shy-asking-butttt-can-we-get-more-cock

oh my god why r u saying sorry this is so YUM i gobbled it up just like shy reader gobbles up his dick

you don't know where kelce and top went—don't really care either. on the way from the party to another party, they'd opted to pull over in a dark parking lot to pee and go grab more beer from the liquor store across the street.

they had mentioned something about getting back in the car and driving, but rafe had told them to walk, and you think they'd listened. tingly from the spiked seltzer you'd had at the first party, you feel just tipsy enough to clobber over rafe the second the two boys walk away from topper's jeep.

crawling into rafe's lap, you hurry to press your mouth to his, the tiny dress you had worn (though a little out of character for you, rafe hadn't been able to keep his eyes or hands away from you all night, so it had been worth it) getting pushed up. rafe kneads the fat of your ass, and you grip his shoulders, pressing your already too-wet pussy onto his dick.

you're sure to leave a mark on his pants, for some reason you can't stay away from your boyfriend right now and you feel every part of you throb with anticipation.

"c'mon kid, wait 'til we get home, huh?" rafe pulls away to breathe the words, but you don't give him an answer, leaning back in for another kiss.

"don't wanna wait-" you mumble when he pulls away again.

"they're gonna be back any minute."

"it's okay, we'll be quick," you insist, pressing hot, wet kisses to the column of rafe's neck, hands traveling down to his belt and unbuckling for him. his hands move quickly to yours, halting your motions. with his grip as tight as it is, you couldn't move if you wanted to.

"hey, c'mon. not like this, behave." you pout, still on rafe's lap and still making yourself comfortable—refusing to get off until he makes you, though you know he won't.

"do i have to?" you ask quietly. looking at rafe with your big, wide eyes, you think you can sense his resolve crumbling. "maybe i can make you feel good. it'll be fast, won't it?" your eyes travel down to his belt, the bulge right underneath.

"shit, kid. fine, if you're so needy. jesus-"

getting as comfortable as you can, you lower your mouth down, knees pressed against the seat and ass in the air while you take out rafe's dick, spitting on it first and putting on an obscene show—you hollow your cheeks and suck in as much of rafe's dick as you can, two hands stroking whatever you can't fit.

you keep going, sucking harder and flicking your tongue over the head until rafe bunches up your hair in his fist, guiding your mouth up and down while you look up at him with glassy eyes and wet cheeks. when he finally pulls you off after a few minutes, you cough and try to catch your breath.

"you okay, baby?" he asks, but you don't answer, going right back for more. you were right—it doesn't take long at all. as soon as rafe stares at your heart-shaped ass in the air and the pretty eyes looking up at him, paired with the noises you make while choking on his dick, he cums into your mouth. like always, like a good girl—you swallow, catching your breath and moving to wipe away the tears on your face.

rafe beats you to it, cleaning you up with his thumb while you smile up at him. he's leaning in for a kiss when you hear it—talking, and then.

"are you guys done yet?"

#fsjfh LOL #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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aswefindourwayback · 22 hours

Text

Tastes Like Heaven

Authors note: i wanted to put out another fic so this is one i originally wrote for another fandom. i’ve changed it a bit to match spencer. i hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated.

wc: 1685

warnings: dick sucking

It had been a long day at the BAU for Spencer. He’s been working on the latest case everyday for the past few weeks. Every day, he wouldn’t get home until 3 am and would leave for the offices early in the mornings.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for him so you could go to bed together. Once you heard the click of the front door unlocking, you sat up and watched as your boyfriend walked into the living area. He looked exhausted, all you wanted to do was pull him into you and hold him as he got some much needed rest.

“Hi, darling. How was work today?” you asked him as he walked over and plopped himself on the couch next to you.

“It was alright. Morgan was getting on my nerves though. He can’t make up his mind sometimes. He also swapped the containers for the sugar and salt so my coffee was salty.”

He goes to run his hands down his face.

Fuck

You can see the way he’s craning his neck back. The veins in his hands and arms are protruding his skin a bit. He lets out a little breath that sounds like a bit of a groan.

“Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?” you ask.

He grabs your hips and moves you to sit atop his lap. He wraps his arms around your hips and back, pulling you close as he nestles his face into your neck, breathing in the scent that is you.

“Just stay right here, please,” he says.

“Alright. I’ll stay.”

You two sit there for ages, just holding each other in the comfortable silence.

But you slowly become uncomfortable from the fact that you’ve had his growing erection slowly poking your ass through his jeans.

You slowly pull back to look at his face. He looks up at you with a tired look, but right underneath, you can see the hunger in his eyes.

You leaned in to give him a quick peck, to see if you were reading him right. And you were. He holds you to him by grabbing the side of your face and desperately kissing you. Your wet kisses filled the silence of the room. You moved to adjust yourself on his lap, lightly grazing his clothed crotch, making him shudder as you moved against him. His breath quivered as he arched his back, trying to gain more friction.

He moved his hand to grab the back of your neck, pulling on your hair, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. Spencer took this opportunity to stick his tongue into your mouth, slightly sucking on your tongue.

The hand that isn’t holding you against him moves down to your upper thigh where he writes something with his finger

‘mine’

You swear you could cum right there. But you don’t.

Spencer moves to take off your shirt and as soon as it’s off, he realizes you weren’t wearing anything else underneath it but a pair of thin, sheer panties.

“Oh fuck.” he whispered.

He goes to pull your panties to the side but you have other plans.

“Wait baby. Let me take care of you. You’ve had a long week. Do you wanna be a good boy for me and let me do all the work?”

“I’ll be good, promise.” he says shaking his head up and down.

“I’ll take good care of you, promise.”

You move off his lap and kneel down infront of him, not before he took a pillow from the couch and dropped it on the floor for your knees.

“Don’t want my girl in pain now, do I?” he cheekily smirks at you.

You slowly and lightly trail a hand up his leg, teasingly going up his inner thigh before palming him through his pants. He lets out a groan as he rolls his head back, letting you see his exposed neck. Oh how you wish you could lick a trail up it.

You tauntingly moved to unbutton his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down before helping him pull them off completely.

You pressed soft kisses on the insides of his thighs, watching as he restrained himself from taking over and fucking you mercilessly.

You rested your head against his thigh as you reached to pull the waistband of his boxers down. As you did, his hardened cock sprung up. It was red and already beading with precum.

“Oh my, this looks painful, darling.” you say as you blow a breath of air on his tip, causing him to slightly thrust his hips up into nothing.

“Let me help you out a bit.”

You lightly wrap your hand around the tip and circle your wrist a bit, he’s gripping the couch cushions, his hands turning white as he tries not to lose it.

You run your hand up and down his cock twice before squeezing his tip then letting go.

Spencer is starting to feel light headed from the teasing he’s had to endure, biting his lip to suppress some of the sounds his throat has been coiling.

You take his cock in one hand and lick a long strip along the side of his cock, eliciting a jaw dropping moan from Spencer. The most gorgeous scene is displayed in front of you right now and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, trying to gain some friction. But this isn’t about you, it’s about the beautiful specimen of a man before you.

You kiss the tip of him before wrapping your lips around it and gently sucking on it. Spencer’s body shudders as he quickly moves his hand to grab your hair and pull on it. His eyes are closed but that’s not what you want.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me.” you condescend him.

Now, you take him in your mouth, slowly taking him in. He’s too big for your mouth though so you wrap your hand around the rest of him. Spencer’s grip on your hair becomes tighter and you can feel how hard he’s resisting the urge to use you as a fuck toy and thrusting into your mouth.

You start bobbing your head up and down him, gradually going faster. Your hand matches the pace of your mouth.

The only sounds in the room are his moans and the wet sounds coming from your mouth as you suck him off.

You push yourself to try and fit him all in your mouth but it’s proving to be difficult. You push yourself until it’s hard to breathe. But you do it, you push down and reach his base, causing him to thrust up into your throat. You gag as he does so and let go of him and sit back on your knees as you try to regain your breath.

“I'm so sorry, darling. It was an accident, didn’t mean to.” he sits forward, massaging the back of your neck. You can see the sorrow all over his face, it really was an accident. But you didn’t mind it, you really enjoyed it actually.

There’s spit all over your face and tears are running down your face. Your hairs a mess but you’re still the most beautiful person in the world to him, even with how fucked out you look.

“That was hot.” was all you said before you pushed him back onto the couch and wrapped your hand around the base of his cock. You stroked him a few times before taking him into your mouth again and hollowing your cheeks.

You watch as his stomach muscles flex under the thin material of his shirt, trying not to roll his hips up. You can see how he’s struggling to breathe, he's panting and looking down at you with love and lust filled eyes.

You take this chance to gently wrap your free hand around his balls and twist them around a bit.

This new sensation makes Spencer rolls his head back against the back of the couch, his jaw dropping as he cries out for more.

“Baby, please don’t stop doing that. That’s so- ahh fuck, so fucking good.” he says.

You continue to play around with his balls as you bob up and down his cock. He’s getting close, you can feel it, with the way he’s twitching against your tongue.

You bob up and down him faster, slurping around his dick and letting out moans. The vibration drives him crazy. He’s a whimpering mess, he’s given up on restraining himself and is now thrusting up into your mouth, pushing so far that you’re gagging with every thrust. You can feel all your drool dripping down your chin and neck as he holds your head in place. Your lips are numb from having them wrapped around him for so long.

“Fuck baby, made for me. You were m-made for me, fuck, taking me so well in that pretty little mouth. Look better with my cock down your throat. Shit- My beautiful girl. Can I come in your mouth?” he asks so politely, as if he hasn’t been thrusting into your mouth, making you choke and gag.

You try and tell him you want him to come in your mouth but it comes out as a gargled mess, but he gets the message.

With a few more thrusts, he's spilling down your throat, keeping you pressed against the base of his cock as he empties into your mouth. His breathing is erratic as he lets you go.

You pull back and stick your tongue out to show him all that he gave you. He moves closer to you and grabs your chin between his fingers.

“Be a good girl and swallow for me.” he whispers in your ear.

You shiver from his warm breath and demanding tone of voice.

You do as he says, opening your mouth to show him that you had swallowed all of him. He grabs you by the neck and kisses you, tasting the reminiscence of him that still coats your mouth.

“You taste like heaven.”

#criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!readr

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 1 day

Text

When they misunderstand and kiss your cheek - svt maknae3

💋Who; Seventeen maknae3 AKA 98z & Chan (individually) x reader 💋What; lil fluff reactions 💋Wordcount; 1.3k altogether 💋Warnings; Minor profanity.

Read the other versions here; 95z - 96z - 97z

-2024 Masterlist-

💋Seungkwan💋 You've just finished a skin care session with him and plop back down at his side after throwing your used sheet mask in the bin. He's removing his own when you lean towards him a little, cheek first while tapping it with your pointer finger in silent demand for him to touch and admire how soft your skin is. But instead of his fingers on your cheek, you feel his lips and look at him dumbly. "Did you just kiss me?" "You told me to," He's blushing and staring down at the floppy sheet mask in his hands as he folds it up and up and up just so that he doesn't have to look at you. It's adorable. "I meant for you to feel how soft I am. I guess your lips also work for testing that." "Yah! Don't tease me!" He gets up in a huff to throw out his mask and only returns when his cheeks are no longer pink with embarrassment. Though his blush returns when you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek. "I think my cheek's softer." You declare when you lean back. "No way!" "Yep." "Well…my lips are softer." "Oh, really?" "Yeah, really." "Prove it." Seungkwan doesn't hesitate to lean in and slot his lips against yours for a few lingering seconds then leans back to look at you nervously, just in case perhaps he really had gotten the teasing wrong and you weren't flirting back. "So?" He whispers. "Results are inconclusive." You decide, shuffling around and delicately taking his face into your hands making his heart skip a beat or two. "Then what do we do?" "Repeat the test until we have an answer." "Ah, makes sense." As your lips find one another again, you're both very aware of the fact that there is no way this test can logically work so you'll be stuck repeating it for the rest of your lives. Neither of you mind though.

💋Vernon💋 You're having one of your standard hangouts with Vernon, consisting of chilling in your apartment on the couch watching your latest shared TV show. At some point, it became a habit to stop between episodes and have thorough discussions on the episode; what was good, what was bad, what you think will happen next etc. Vernon even writes down both of your suspicions and predictions for you both to look back at in the future. It's during the break between episodes that it happens. "Come on, we won't have time to watch the next episode if you take much longer!" Vernon teases, nudging you with an elbow from your right. You sway naturally with the nudge away then make yourself collide back with him heavier than needed, making him laugh. He doesn't say anything else, just waits mostly patiently as you hum thoughtfully. He doesn't notice that you're tapping your cheek in thought until he looks back up at you a moment later. All Vernon sees is your head tilted to the left, meaning your cheek is slightly closer to him and your finger tapping your cheek, he leans in without thinking about it and pecks your cheek quickly. And then when he leans back, he goes right back to his notebook to adjust his own prediction a little while you just gawp at him. "So?" He prompts a handful of seconds later and looks at you expectantly. "Are you asking me to rate the random and very unexpected cheek kiss?" "What? No. And what do you mean random and very unexpected? You had your head all tilted and tapping your cheek just like my mom does when she wants a kiss from my dad." "Did you just relate us to your literal parents, Vernon?" He just shrugs, really not sure how he's supposed to act right now, he really had thought you were asking for a kiss but he also doesn't think it's that big of a deal. It's not like he hasn't seen you kissing your friends' cheeks before either. It's just that Vernon himself doesn't do it. So maybe he sees why you're making a big deal out of it(you're actually being very tame compared to the screaming in your head). "Out of curiosity, what does she do when she wants a real kiss?" You ask, innocently looking away even though he can tell by your voice that you're doing something. "Same thing, but on her lips, well that I've seen. I don't really have a habit of watching my parents kiss, you know." "Like this?" You look back at him, eyes still with that innocence he knows is entirely fake as you tap your index finger to the centre of your bottom lip pointedly. It makes Vernon look down at your mouth. He nods, eyes still on your lips. "Huh, interesting." You turn to settle back in your seat and pick the remote up from the slim gap between you on the cushions, but he takes it from your hands. "We're not done." He picks his pen back up. "Place your bets." "Ah, right." You let out a heavy breath and lean back and then, because you've clearly cracked the code, instead of tapping your cheek, your fingertip bounces lightly on your lips. "You're such a shit." Vernon grunts and then he's holding your jaw to turn your face to him so he can press his lips to yours firmly. You immediately giggle happily and grip onto his t-shirt to hold him closer even as his own lips split into a smile too and you're no longer actually kissing. Though very shortly you do get to really smooching and forget all about your show.

💋Chan💋 Lately, you've been trying to learn a new language. So far you've successfully managed to develop a habit of practising every single day, sometimes just pointing at objects to say the translation to yourself and other times you rope in others to help. Admittedly, it's usually Chan as your spare time tends to involve him. And Chan never does things in half so entirely unprompted, he bought supplies to make flashcards together to help. He would've tried to make them himself but he knows nothing about the language you're learning and he didn't want to look online and risk getting inaccurate information on random words you may not have even come across yet in your studies. So that's when it happens; when you're sat side by on the sofa with a little handful of freshly made colourful flashcards full of vocabulary. You've just read a word on one side and are trying to recall what it means, knowing the answer is on the other side but too determined to get it right and unwilling to even let Chan peek and give you a hint. And he's just sitting there, mostly scrolling through social media on his phone in the quiet room to allow you the peace to work away. But this word seems to have stumped you a bit. You've been quieter for longer, so he turns his head to look at you curiously, wondering if you're still working or done and he just miscounted how many translations you've completed so far. The translation actually comes to you when he happens to look at you and you simply say "kiss," lowering your hand from your cheek where you had been thoughtfully prodding your skin. Chan's a little dumbstruck, assuming you're asking for a kiss on your cheek, he didn't think you'd ever do such a thing, yet still, he tilts closer and tentatively presses a sweet little kiss against your skin. You blink in surprise and turn your head to look at him. There's a moment where you just stare at each other from only a few inches apart, and then in sync, you lean in until your lips find one another. Some point later after too many slow, heart-racing kisses to count, Chan sees the flashcard with the word kiss on it and realises what had happened, though he can't say he's at all mad about it. Especially not when he admits it to you and you giggle and pull him back in after calling him precious. Even if you forget every single other word in the language, you know you'll never forget kiss.

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the-kr8tor · 2 days

Note

Hobie with a s/o who wears glasses? He would tease them for being such a nerd but he’s the more nerdier one in the relationship. Imagine the glasses get in the way of when he tries to kiss you also yk how in his intro he smashed that alarm clock I bet he’s done that to your glasses once in a while. Not his fault he has super strength

Cute!! As a glasses wearer myself, I love this request! Thank you ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for the glasses), CW blood, CW injury. FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Your heart is hammering against your chest, pulse quickening, eyes wide and hands sweaty. Despite your nerves, you lean in. Hobie inches closer to you, hands cradling your face, warmth fanning across your searing cheeks. He looks confident, a giddy smile on his lips, piercings shining from the porch light. He's stunning, and always so suave, but you have no idea the effect you have on him.

He looks past the lens of your glasses to gaze at your eyes, eyes that are blown out, eyes that look at him with adoration. If only you knew that his mind is a slurry that is full of thoughts about you, you, you, and you. You make his entire world light up with just one look that he's more than happy to bask in.

Hobie loves your glasses because he can see how lovestruck his reflection looks whenever he stares at you. He loves how gorgeous you look in it too. He once joked that you look like a sexy librarian, and now all your flirty comments are book or library themed which sometimes make him laugh and fancy you more with your dorky attempts at flirting. He wouldn't have it any other way though.

You two have been on exactly three dates together, all of them being so successful that it always has you giggling and kicking your legs the second he drops you home. All of those three dates are a culmination of tonight, the second he asked you if it was okay for him to say goodbye with a kiss, you did not hesitate to say yes at his proposal.

Hobie closes the remaining distance, index finger tapping on your cheek for one last permission. Your smile says it all, and he presses his lips against yours eagerly. Too eagerly in fact that your glasses squish your face and your eyelids, acting as a barrier. If your eyes weren't closed, your glasses might've poked your eyes out.

The nose pads poke the bridge of your nose uncomfortably, but you're way into the tender kiss to lean away. How could you stop kissing him when the kiss is better than what your daydreams could make up? Hobie senses how you try to breathe through your nose, and how you move your head to the side slightly so your glasses don't stab through your searing skin. Still holding your face, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip, he chuckles at the lopsided glasses on your face.

Eyes wide, you wonder if you did something wrong for him to laugh. Hobie stomps on that feeling quickly by gently fixing your glasses for you.

Hands on the side of it, grin still spread across his kiss bitten lips, he taps your now foggy lenses. “Sorry, your glasses are all fogged up because of me. All my fault, love.” He jokes and you laugh, the simple giggle has him wanting to kiss you again.

“It's alright, I got a kiss from it.” You tease back, he beams at you, and you can tell he wants to kiss you again. Or maybe it's just you thinking with all the sweet fog of affection blurring your vision? “Do you want to fog it up again? Y’know just in case it ends up clean this time.”

“An experiment then?” He shrugs, doing the bit with you. “For science then.” He kisses and kisses you until there's no breath in your lungs, and you kiss back until he has to hold onto the doorknob for balance.

—

Watching a movie while cuddled up to a thick blanket is great. Watching a movie with Hobie for the first time in his houseboat while cuddled up to him is so much better though. Rain bangs on the roof, adding to the cozy atmosphere. Hobie pulls you closer as if you weren't already close enough to him. Hip to hip, legs on top of his legs, you press your cheek on his bicep, glasses wonky from the position, you yawn into his jumper, snuggling impossibly closer.

Hobie sees how sleepy you are, of course he noticed because he hasn't even looked at the tv screen for ten minutes now. He was too busy memorizing your expressions whenever something happened in the movie. Your glasses reflect the screen anyway, so he didn't miss much of the movie.

“Bored?” He squeezes your hand that has been intertwined with his own under the blanket since the movie started.

“No, tired. This movie is just too long.” You peer at him through heavy eyelids, lashes stuck together from how you keep rubbing your eyes. “Why didn't they just ride the eagles in the first place?”

Hobie couldn't help but peck your forehead, you can feel his smile against your skin. “How ‘bout we finally sleep then? So you'd stop slanderin’ this perfect movie.”

You scrunch up your nose, glasses lifted up from the movement. “It’s a good movie, Hobie, but it has some flaws—” You joke, he shakes his head and then flings the blanket over your head.

“Alright, enough from you.” He pauses the tape, and then throws away the blanket into a pile in the corner of the settee. You would think he was annoyed by your comment but his grin and outstretched hand says otherwise. “C’mon, love, let's head to bed.”

You look up at him with a pout. “But I want to keep hanging out with you. Like a real sleepover.”

“A sleepover is for best mates,” he flexes his fingers, “we're clearly not just best mates.” His words make you all fuzzy inside. “D’you want to braid my hair and put a face mask on me just like in sleepovers or somethin’?”

“Can I paint your nails too?” You ask teasingly. In truth, you just want to talk to him longer. Because you know once your head hits the pillow that has his scent all over, it's light's out for you.

“Of course, love.” You finally take his hand, “as long as I pick the colour.”

—

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, you chatted through the night, and with a few smooches here and there, you slept like a baby in his arms.

Hobie wakes up with a start, his alarm clock blares loudly into the quiet of his room. Not wanting to wake you up with the loud ring, he quickly punches blindly on his bedside table. Something cracks under his knuckles, yet the ringing still doesn't stop.

“Shit.” His breath hitches in his throat. Carefully prying himself off you, (which he didn't want to do) he peeks over the table. Lo and behold, his fear just happened, he has crushed your precious glasses under his fist. Glass is littered all over the table, shards upon sharp shards falling off his hand. The frame isn't any better, it has bent into a fist shape, looking like a truck drove over it. Damn his enhanced strength.

You wake up with a snort, the harsh ringing of the alarm still echoes in your ears. With one eye open, Hobie's toned back greets you.

“Oho good morning to you too.” You poke the small of his back.

Instead of a smile, he frowns at you. A second later, you see the cause of it. Hobie holds up your broken glasses by the tip of it, you can barely recognize it from how mangled it looked. Eyes wide, you see that his hand has shards of glass sticking out, palm starting to bleed.

“Holy shit.” You sit up, taking his wrist gingerly.

“‘m sorry, love, I thought it was the alarm.” He says sadly.

“I've got a spare, Hobie,” you almost chuckle at his tone if not for how genuinely sad he sounded. “Besides, your hand is bleeding. Where's your first aid kit?” He's astonished at how nonchalant you took the news of him breaking your glasses in two. He points towards his bathroom, before he could stop you, you're already halfway across the room.

—

Your spare glasses now sit on your face as you dab antiseptic on the small cuts. He watches on with the same sweet gaze, you're absolutely concentrated on his hand, making sure that every cut is properly cleaned. The wounds barely hurt now thanks to you. He sighs loudly to get your attention.

“You okay?” You ask, bandaging the last cut.

“Better now—” Hobie clamps his mouth shut when you begin to kiss his fingers. The intimacy of it all has him melting with every kiss from you. You can feel how his pulse quickens since you're holding on to his wrist, thinking his injury has him all worried. You clearly have no idea the effect you have on him.

“There, all better.” You look up at him to see a rare flustered Hobie. A smile spreads across your lips, “I can tell you feel better now.”

“You kiddin’ me? A little bit of a warnin’ next time, love.”

“Okay, I'll tell you before I start kissing you.”

“...‘m gonna kiss you now.” He declares. Cradling your face, you laugh and nod an approval. Before he leans in, he places his hands around your glasses. “Can I take this off? Don't wanna accidentally fog it up again, or worse.”

“Okay, just kiss me already, Hobart.” You could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escapes from your throat.

“Usin’ my government name and everythin’ huh?” Carefully taking the glasses off, you welcome the sudden blurriness, it adds to your anticipation. “So bloody rude of you. Guess I have to kiss the rudeness off of you.”

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cuubism · 1 day

Note

I tried to be creative for a hurt/comfort thing but you know what, I'm a very predictable creature of habit who likes what I like lol

A go-to headcanon of mine for canon or human au is that Hob's love language is providing food just as like, a caretaking thing. But of course Dream interprets it as Hob thinking he's ugly for being so skinny. 🥺

🤘five-and-dimes

@five-and-dimes this slots in well with math au so it had to be math au ☺️

"Dream?"

Dream doesn't realize he's drifted off mentally until Hob calls his name. It's possible he's called it more than once and Dream didn't hear. It must be some special level of dysfunction to be able to get so distracted during sex. All week he has thought about Hob, watched the play of his hands on his keyboard and wished they were on his skin, watched the flex of his arms as he ties his hair back, studied his mouth as he chewed on the end of a pen. Now he is here, and yet he's not. Here.

"Are you alright?" Hob continues when Dream just kind of keeps staring at him. "You're like. Not with me at all. I don't know where you are."

Dream doesn't know where Dream is either. Technically he is lying in bed with Hob kneeling between his thighs, and they haven't even gotten fully undressed yet. Hob's hands are still resting lightly on his hips, thumbs hooked under the waistband of his jeans. Dream is suddenly aware of just how sharp his hipbones are when he lies like that, the jut of bone visible through his skin.

He pushes himself up to sitting, dislodging Hob's hands. "I am fine."

"Sure," Hob says, not wholly convinced. "Long day I guess?"

Dream hums noncommittally.

"Want to watch a movie instead?"

"Yes," Dream says, though still distracted, "very well."

Hob moves away to grab his shirt, and Dream watches the flex of his shoulders, the strength of his back and bend of his neck. And he wants, and for a moment he considers saying, no, come back, I want-- but when Hob turns back to him it dies in his throat.

He puts on his own shirt, and Hob pulls him close, lets him settle between his legs, his back to Hob's chest, as he takes his laptop from the nightstand. "I heard about this one, supposed to be using maths to solve time travel. Figured we could watch and you could tell me all the ways they're wrong and stupid."

Hob knows him too well. "You have no confidence that the maths could be correct?" he says.

"Do you?"

"...No," Dream admits, and Hob laughs.

"It'd be no fun if it was right, anyway. Your commentary makes it way more entertaining."

Dream leans back in his arms as Hob boots up the movie, and then it feels easy again, comfortable again, as they fall back into their familiar pattern.

He doesn't know what was wrong with him before.

Dream likes to steal Hob's sweatshirts. He runs cold, but often forgets to bring extra layers with him when he goes places. Or perhaps he is intentionally forgetting to bring his own, so he can steal Hob's. Hob never seems to mind, after all.

And Hob's clothes are not so different in size to his own, they are almost the same height. Hob has broader shoulders than he does, but Dream never feels like he is swimming in Hob's clothes.

Except for now.

He's studying the way the sleeves of Hob's sweatshirt lie on his wrists, comparing it to the way they had looked on Hob's wrists when he had worn the same sweatshirt just this morning, before Dream had stolen it. Have his wrists always been this narrow? The jut of the ulna so sharp where the hem of the sleeve hangs? Has he always looked this bony, when contrasted with soft fabric?

"Hey, love, you hungry? I made you something."

Hob is standing before him, holding a bowl. He places it down on the table before Dream.

"Made me something?" Dream echoes.

"Dinner," Hob says. "You didn't eat anything today."

Did he? Perhaps not. He often doesn't, at least not until Hob reminds him. Which he often does.

"It's green curry," Hob says, pushing the bowl closer to him as if trying to tempt him to take a treat. "One of your favorites?"

Dream does not know if he is really hungry, but Hob is a good cook and besides, it will make him happy if Dream eats it, so he takes it.

Seeming satisfied, Hob gets his own bowl and sits down across from him, tucking in as Dream starts delicately picking at pieces of green bean and pepper, small spoonfuls of rice soaked in curry. It is, in fact, very good. He is just. Out of sorts, perhaps.

But he eats it, slowly, because he knows Hob will be happy. Hob is always happy when he manages to feed him. Perhaps Dream truly doesn't eat enough. Perhaps he is getting too bony.

He tries not to study his wrists as he holds the spoon.

Dream is... not having a good day. He doesn't fully know why. He often doesn't. Regardless, he's lying in bed, music blaring in his headphones, staring blankly at the wall, when Hob gets back from class in the evening.

He doesn't realize it's time for Hob to come back until Hob is creaking open the bedroom door, letting a sliver of light into the cocoon Dream's created. He says something, which Dream doesn't hear on account of the music he's blasting at maximum volume.

He takes out his earbuds as Hob repeats it. "Hey, love. You want some tea? A snack?"

Dream lifts his head to find that Hob's set down a cup of tea and a piece of toast with what looks like almond butter and honey on the nightstand.

"It's seven p.m.," Hob continues. Dream hadn't realized it was so late. He doesn't remember exactly when he laid down. "Have you eaten?"

He's sure Hob already knows the answer to that.

Dream sits up and takes the toast, as bidden. And then just. Stares at it.

Hob lays the back of his hand against Dream's forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I don't know," Dream says. But he is not sick in the way that Hob means. He sets the toast back down and takes the tea instead, sipping it slowly.

"You don't feel warm." Hob lets his hand fall. "Should eat the toast, if you can. Do you want company, or should I leave you be?"

Dream swallows hard to clear the lump in his throat. Hob is... so tolerant of his oddities. "Company. If you can tolerate my silence."

"I can cope." Hob fetches his things, and soon enough he's sitting beside Dream in bed, laptop open. Dream leans against his shoulder. Hob's body is soft enough to be comfortable to lie against, while Dream's shoulder is... sharp. When Hob lies against him, are all of Dream's bones just jutting into him?

He sits up again, picks up the toast. If he ate enough almond butter toast he might not be so sharp-edged. But eating an amount of toast that hits even a baseline caloric requirement is already hard enough.

He eats it slowly and tries to pretend it doesn't stick on the way down.

When they were teenagers, Desire used to make fun of Dream for being too skinny. "It's all in the name of love," they'd sing, "just don't want you to end up alone, that's all." Then they'd poke him in the ribs--"You're so bony"--and start giggling.

It didn't help that Dream had jumped ahead two levels in school, and already felt gangly and awkward in comparison to everyone else in his year, who were invariably older. As years passed, he grew out of those awkward teenage proportions, but never lost his thin, angular frame.

Hob, for his part, still has a bit of youthful ranginess to him, but Dream thinks he will fill out wonderfully as he gets older. He does not know what will happen to himself.

What he does know is that Hob keeps trying to feed him.

He'll make breakfast for him, if he stays over. Even if Hob himself needs to run out the door to class with nothing more than a granola bar, he somehow manages to make sure there is something for Dream. He's always making Dream's favorite foods for dinner, more often than not foods Dream barely remembers ever mentioning. He brings him tea in a thermos when Dream is up late working in his favorite classroom.

Dream does not know what to do with this. He is finding it harder and harder to eat what Hob makes. He doesn't know what's wrong with him.

When he gets home from class, he finds that Hob is gone, but he's left an entire container of muffins on Dream's kitchen counter. Zucchini muffins!! the note taped to the lid reads. Very tasty and nutritious too!! ❤️

Dream stares at them for a long time, a lump in his throat. Then he closes the lid, carefully latches it so they won't go stale, and retreats to his bedroom.

Dream is straddling Hob's lap and he should be enjoying himself but he cannot. Stop. Thinking.

About how sharp his knees and ankles look. How Hob can definitely feel his ribs where his hands are laid on Dream's waist. About the deep cut of his collarbone, made more evident by the way he's wrapping his arms around Hob's shoulders as they kiss. Does Hob think about it? Does he look at Dream and wish there was softness to touch, instead of these hard edges?

"Dream," Hob says, still close enough that Dream feels his breath as he pulls away from the kiss. "Where are you, love? Because it's not with me."

It all feels so obvious when Dream thinks about it now. He got used to not thinking about his own body but it's impossible to ignore when he's pressed up against Hob, when he's only in his underwear. Hob has seen him, and touched him, and is always trying to feed him, and he would never say anything because he isn't mean but it must bother him, that Dream is so, is so--

"Do you think I am wrong?" he asks.

Hob just stares at him, thrown. "What?" he asks. "Wrong about what?"

"Wrong," Dream repeats. And suddenly he can't stand to be exposed like he is, and disentangles himself from Hob, reaching for the nearest article of clothing--which ends up being Hob's sweatshirt, the one he likes to steal. And so he ends up just holding it to his chest instead of putting it on, frozen.

Hob reaches for him, then lets his hands fall. "I don't understand."

"You want me to eat more," Dream says.

"I-- yeah? You barely eat one meal a day, of course I want you to eat more?"

Dream nods to himself, clutching Hob's sweatshirt closer. It all makes sense now. He doesn't know why he didn't understand it earlier. Or perhaps he did, subconsciously.

The wave of sadness that catches him under his lungs is more powerful than he anticipated. But at least now he understands.

"I don't know what conclusion you're making, but somehow I don't think it's right," Hob says. He reaches for Dream again, and this time wraps his hand around his wrist, slides down over the bones there until their fingers are tangled together. Their knuckles lock, bone to bone.

"I am hideous to you," he says, braced by Hob's touch enough to voice it.

"What?" Dream expects Hob to move away, but he doesn't, though he does sound... hurt. "How could you think that?"

"You think I should eat more," Dream says. Even as he says it, he feels himself curl inwards again, though it only makes the angles of his limbs more prominent.

"Yeah because you can't survive on one piece of toast every two days? I don't want you to starve yourself?" Hob sounds increasingly desperate as he says it. "Honestly you've been freaking me out, I feel like even when I make stuff you like you want to eat it even less."

"I... like what you make," Dream says quietly. He slowly thinks through what Hob's said. "I thought that... you felt I was too skinny. That you would be more attracted to me if I was not so... bony. And sharp."

He is very sharp-edged all around. And Hob already tolerates the sharp edges of his personality.

"Dream." Now Hob takes both of his hands. "Don't you know I was so attracted to you the moment I saw you? I wanted you so bad. And your attention. Your interest." He plays with Dream's fingers. "Look how beautiful your hands are." He cups Dream's face in his hand. "Your jawline is literally to die for. Modeling agencies would sign you."

Dream makes an expression of distaste at the thought, and Hob laughs.

"I know, you'd hate that." He kisses the tip of Dream's nose. "But the point stands. You're gorgeous." He runs his hand through Dream's hair, making it stick up all over the place. And the way Hob looks at him then makes any objection die in Dream's throat, makes him want to crawl into Hob's lap and press against Hob's body and let Hob do anything to him. "I mean, look at you."

A blush rises to Dream's cheeks. "So. You do not want me to eat so that I will gain weight."

"I want you to eat so you don't fucking die," Hob says, and something about the dramatic phrasing of it makes Dream laugh, and then Hob laughs, too, and pulls him close, pressing Dream's head into his shoulder.

"I am like a recalcitrant pet to you, then," Dream says, and Hob chuckles.

"Too right. You can lead a Dream to avocado toast..."

Perhaps... Dream might be better at being led. Now that he knows why Hob is doing the leading.

“I love you,” Hob says, kissing Dream’s temple. “And your ridiculous cheekbones, you angelic creature. You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Dream’s blush only deepens, and he hides his face in Hob’s shoulder. Hob rubs a hand up and down his bare back, catching on the knobs of his spine. He holds Dream close until Dream’s embarrassment subsides and he feels able to lift his head again.

When their eyes meet again, Hob just smiles. “Can I show you?” He traces his thumb over Dream’s lower lip. “How much I want you?”

Dream nods, tongue dabbing at Hob's thumb. Yes, he wants. He wants Hob. And he wants Hob to want him, desperately he wants it, for Hob to think he is desirable, no matter how embarrassing it may be to feel that want.

Hob kisses him again, pulling him close so Dream is half in his lap, tangled up in him again. Dream chases his mouth. And each touch of Hob's hands over the hard bend of his hips or the sharp wings of his shoulder blades, just as passionate and determined as Dream could have ever hoped for, makes him feel better, until he's not thinking about the shape of himself at all, just the feeling of Hob's touch, and his own pleasure.

And, maybe, the tea Hob might make for him afterward.

#dream has literally the exact opposite body issues that i do and yet somehow it's relatable...#complex mathematics #my writing #dreamling #ask #five-and-dimes #wow this got real sappy at the end tbh #disordered eating

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wildemaven · 1 day

Text

first anniversary | dieter x poppy

A Sweet Creature

Ava Greene sits down with actor and friend, Dieter Bravo. Hollywood’s new leading man gets candid about life in front of and behind the camera. He talks about his latest movie, his commitment to his sobriety and his newest role— husband?!

Ava Greene: You're approaching three years sober now, how are you feeling?

Dieter Bravo: Probably the best I’ve felt in a long time. Sobriety is a day to day progression that I take very seriously, and I try to not lose sight of that even when I’m having bad days. Though, I’m grateful bad days have been few and far between at this point in my sobriety. I can attribute that to the support system I have built for myself through friends, family, my sponsor that I still work with and most importantly my wife who keeps me grounded daily. They all continue to keep me in check and remind me how awesome my life is, especially right now. Staying clean is a full time commitment, and it’s really a beautiful thing.

AG: You followed in your famous parents footsteps by going into acting and your career and struggles with sobriety have been well documented but your parents have rarely commented publicly, are they supportive of your work and your journey?

DB: For me, I don’t need them to make a show of it by commenting or sharing their thoughts publicly to know they support me. There was a point in time where they did all they could do for me, but ultimately it had to be my choice to make the decision to get clean. Thankfully, we’ve been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. And being in the public eye for most of our lives, the last thing we want is for outsiders thinking they have a say in our lives. In short, yes I have very supportive parents in all aspects of my life and I’m so happy for that.

AG: This is your second project since rehab, are you viewing this as a comeback or a fresh start?

DB: Comeback? I didn’t know I left… Kidding! Sure, some might say it’s a comeback. A fresh start. Whatever analogy best fits the narrative is fine by me— and I don’t mean that negatively in any sense. I mean, you’ve known me long enough to know I just try not to focus on any of that stuff, messes with my fucking brain waves. I just see it as me doing what I love with a new perspective and a different approach to choosing what projects I’m going to give my time to than I have in the past.

AG: What can you tell us about this project and the character you're playing?

DB: I had the best f*ckin’ time while shooting this film— sorry, but the emphasis was needed. I was really drawn to the vibrancy that this script evoked, even with the serious nature of the storyline and characters. I couldn’t stop thinking or talking about for weeks afterwards. I’d sit with my wife at breakfast and we’d discuss the script and my character for what felt like hours. I knew after I heard her feedback that I needed to be apart of this film— she might have said I’d be stupid to say no to it, in her own loving way.

The film is really about the process of rediscovering yourself. Navigating the challenges that come along with being at your lowest point and leaning on the ones who have been there for you. It’s about finding love in its purest form when you never thought you were deserving of it.

I found bits of myself in this character as we were filming, it was very much a cathartic experience for me. I guess you could say it was art imitating life in a weird way.

AG: There's already been some buzz about this year's award season, do you think this is finally your year?

DB: Ooooh! Is it too presumptuous for me to say yes?! I’ve started dusting the spot where I plan for it to go. I sound like some sort of pompous idiot! Now no one is going to go see it!*

I take it back!

In all seriousness, ‘cause I’m sure Poppy and my agent will be rolling their eyes when they read this. If all I get is a couple nominations, that alone feels like winning. A shiny statue would be nice though— just saying.

AG: You've talked often about your love of art and you recently purchased a gallery. Are you planning to publicly pursue other creative endeavors?

DB: I won’t be joining American Idol anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. Oh, you weren’t referring to my ability to hold a note during our many karaoke nights— noted!

How did you put it? Other creative endeavors? I’ve got a few art pieces in the works right now that I’m itching to dive back into when I get home. I’ve got a major gallery in LA lined up later in the year for an artist spotlight exhibit, they’ll be housing some of my work through the next year. Shoutout to my wife for getting that all lined up while I was away shooting this film.

AG: What's next for Dieter Bravo? Any other projects lined up you can tell us about?

DB: I’m looking forward to some downtime I have coming up. Poppy has the summer off, so we’ll get to finally live that newlywed life. Settle into the role of doting husband while she does her thing at the gallery.

AG: Off the record, if you got married and didn't tell anyone I will kick yours and Poppy’s ass!

DB: We’re celebrating our one year this month actually. We eloped quietly last year right after we got engaged— wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. Which reminds me, you and Bryony should hop on a call with Poppy after this. Seeing as I let the cat out of the bag and this is our announcement— surprise!

Huge shoutout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for allowing me to borrow her Ava from Conversations with a Movie Star for this. Ava was so gracious and even wrote the questions herself. I’m so grateful for Lellen and all her support and advice she had given me throughout the writing process of Sweet Creature!

Sweet Creature Celebration

#dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #sweet creature series #sweet creature celebration #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal

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