#i don’t believe they’d work as a couple

[coffeebooh]

the flashspell tag being 90% me and 10% other random posts dating from 2012… I’M IN THE TRENCHES FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE

#young justice #zatanna zatara #wally west #flashspell #they had THAT POTENTIAL FRIENDSHIP #it’s not fair of the writers to have reduced zatanna’s biggest interactions to raquel artemis and richard #am i going over the top by saying that? no #they had that platonic soulmates potential #the science/magic banter #the dork x doesn’t take his shit #glamorous bisexual girl x her emotional support himbo #playonically btw #i don’t believe they’d work as a couple #zatanna could have been annoyed of him at first #but then she’d have grown to find him endearing and actually started to consider him her beat friend after awhile #wally threatening whoever was zee’s bf (dick included) to not break her heart or else #zee’s bf or gf #oops 🤭 #also… kaldurzee #the magicfam #the serious and stoic and her lil sis who wants him to let loose a bit #she’s the only one bold enough to not listening to his orders #and it amuses him lowkey

[kachowder]

Thinking about a arranged marriage, in which darling denies their spouse any opportunity to touch them. For reader, they have no reason to believe this would ever be a equal relationship. They believed, if they serviced their spouse well, and played the part of a dutiful partner, they would be able to lead a comfortable life without any unnecessary drama or hurt feelings on their end.

Of course they didn’t take into account how absolutely obsessed their spouse is with them, and how much pain their in each time their denied the chance to touch their darling.

Every intimate act between the couple, the darling does all the work. Weather it be quick services with their mouth or body, as soon as their spouse finishes the darling hops off and makes their way back to their room to take care of their own needs or read a new book. And their spouse is fucking devastated each and every time.

Their fingers grip their darlings shoulder or hair, savoring that moment of contact before their orgasm hits and the warmth of their love leaves them for the remainder of the night. No aftercare, no kisses, and worst of all, they don’t get to see their darling cum. Ever.

“Darling…? If it’s not too much to ask..”

“Yes my love?”

And they’d shiver at the hollow endearment.

“Well..perhaps we could engage in some more intimacy tonight…? I could-“

“Ah.” And their darling would pause, bringing a hand to rub their jaw tenderly. “Well, my jaw is still a little sore from last time, but if you wish I can certainly help you again.”

“N..No..I mean, I could..I could take care of you…tonight…”

“Oh. That won’t be necessary my dear.”

And god how their heart fucking breaks at that, brows furrowing nervously as they try to resist the temptation to fall to their knees and beg. Beg to taste their darlings flesh and finally feel their lips pressed against their own. Their eyes nearly well with tears, the untamed desire burning them to the core. Their darling was so cruel to them.

“But I insist, I can-“

“Do not worry my love. I’ll take care of you tonight so you won’t be so stressed for your meeting tomorrow. Or if you’d like I could find you more suitable company for the night?”

The repulsion in their body would nearly make their stomach swell with nausea at the mere idea of laying in bed with another that wasn’t their beloved darling.

“I’m…No thank you, my love.”

And you, the silly little darling won’t understand why your spouse seems so disheartened. You’d been the perfect partner, anyone’s dream. You kept to yourself, did what you were asked. They never had to care for you needs or wants beyond your allowance and the occasional outing.

You could admit you were married to a very attractive and respectable figure. Known for their kindness and intelligence. You considered yourself lucky as to deal with someone so agreeable.

And there were times you wished for a warm body besides yours in the dead of night. Someone to lay upon after you’ve both been spent.

But that vulnerability was too scary for yourself. Fear that your heart would hurt more if you let yourself feel the pain of neglect after. So, this arrangement you’d crafted for yourself would have to do.

Well, until the night you’d found your depraved lovers head buried between your thighs, moaning like a starved fool.

What a sight to awaken too.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x oc #x reader #x gender neutral reader

[dearbraus]

Monstrous Oddities ࿐

— Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney.

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, monster fucking, diphallia (multiple cocks), dragon dicks, double penetration, marking (Neuvi), knotting, doggy style, semi public sex, daddy/sir kink (Wrio), barbed penis, overstimulation, phone sex, pussy whipped Lyney, creampies, unprotected sex, animalistic urges, dragon!neuvi, dogboy!wrio, catboy!lyney general dick headcanons. ⊹ Run time. 1.2k ⊹ Note. This came to me at 2am after reading some other headcanons I previously wrote. Enjoy <3

Dick Headcanons —

꧁ Neuvillette - Two is better than one ꧂

Specifications: 12”, scaled and slightly ribbed, thin tapered heads that’s perfect for kissing your cervix, and full, heavy balls twitch when you suck on them.

❥ Most presumed that aside from his pointed ears and penchant for plain water, that Monsieur Neuvillette was more human than dragon— they’d be incorrect of course but that’s knowledge only you get to relish in. ❥ Beneath his perfectly tailored slacks lay not one but two cocks. The peculiarities don’t end there, however, his cocks are slightly ribbed and scaly in a way that resembles a fish's scales. His cocks are tinged blue near his pelvis but the colouration is lost amongst the neatly trimmed puff of his pearly white pubes that trails up his abdomen. ❥ In spite of his years, Neuvillette is still rather unaccustomed to human convention. It took seeing your shocked expression to realize that most weren’t as well endowed as he was, nor were they likely to have two girthy cocks. So, it takes him a bit to learn how your body reacts to him and just how much you’re able to take. He’s willing to learn, he’s nothing if not dutiful and gentle. ❥ He learns that to take one of his cocks he’ll need to work you open with a couple of his thick fingers first. That is, of course, after he’s warmed you up with his forked, serpentine tongue that nearly engulfs the whole of your aching cunt. And that you’re sure to squirt if grinds his second cock into your throbbing clit as he fucks you. Since taking even one of his cocks is a challenge, more often than not, Neuvillette uses his second cock to stimulate your clit while his mouth is busy sucking and licking the tender skin of your neck and chest. He can’t help it, the need to leave you covered in signs of him is far too strong, that’s why he cums in and on your pussy. ❥ Once you’ve gotten used to the stretch, can take it with ease, and are feeling a little adventurous, Neuvillette doesn’t waste the chance to split you open on both of his cocks. Seeing you so full of him stirs something primal within him. It’s a feeling he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge him but it claws its way out of his chest with you. The urge to remind you that you’re his, and only his gets muddled between kisses to your tear stained cheeks. You’re his perfect pet, you take him so well, and he’ll be sure to remind you.

꧁ Wriothesley - The duke is a dog ꧂

Specifications: 8”, rosy, round bulbous head, girthy, with a thick knot nestled amongst a thatch of unruly, dark curls that drives him wild when you tug on them.

❥ Wriothesley’s sharp canines aren’t the only wolfish things about him. Below his belt resides a truly monstrous cock. You think it’s rather titillating, your mouth waters just at the sight of his fat knot but Wrio was rather weary, he knew it was a bit peculiar and didn’t want to scare you away. Those worries didn’t last too long. ❥ Jerking off was always a bit tiresome for Wrio. His knot ached to inflate inside of a warm, wet hole so his calloused, spit slick hands never satisfied that need. The first time he fucked you, he nearly came after pushing the tip in. Wrio was so sensitive, he hadn’t cum properly in far too long. He nearly tore your silk sheets from how tightly he gripped them as he willed himself to sink his cock a little deeper into your pussy. He wasn’t much a believer in Celestia but he felt like he ascended that first time … and every time after that. ❥ He didn’t knot you until you’d been together for two years. Though you swore you could take, that you wanted to take it, Wrio always worried he’d lose control. It wasn’t a feeling he liked. Wriothesley liked feeling in control, he liked how you willingly submitted to him, hushed cries of “daddy” or “sir” never far from your lips, adoration pooling within the depths of your eyes. But, he was grateful he loosened the reins. ❥ One stress filled evening snowballed into you splayed across his desk at the fortress, your puffy, aching cunt slick and throbbing with need for him on display. You were so wet, moaning so loudly for him, it was almost too easy for him to slip his knot into your weeping hole. Your wanton whimpers were forever burned into his memory as it began to swell inside of you, his rough skinned hands roaming all over your body as his teeth dug into the flesh of your shoulder. Your eyes glazed over and a shudder wracked through your body as he filled your cunt with his seed. He knew then that he spent far too long depriving himself and you. ❥ Wriothesley was gone after that, he just couldn’t go on knowing how sweet you sounded as you squealed and begged for him while filled with his knot and cum. Maybe he was greedy but you loved being his cockdrunk pup. So, it was a win-win.

꧁ Lyney  - He has more tricks up his sleeves ꧂

Specifications: 5”, veiny, sensitive head, equally sensitive barbs, kissable hip bones, and a leaky tip that’s just begging for your kisses.

❥ While his sister Lynette possessed most of the outward cat-like traits that was carried down their lineage, most of Lyney’s feline genetics poked through in his personality and behaviour, except for his cock. His pretty, blush pink cock was barbed near the base. He once read that they were meant to aid mating but he found that they made his cock far too sensitive to touch. He could only bear to lightly graze the tips of his fingers over his shaft most days. More often than not, Lyney came untouched, blowing his load in his underwear from the friction of the fabric alone. ❥ The first time you sucked his cocked, he cried from how good it felt, pushing your head down until you gagged. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, far too blissed out to notice until afterward (to which he spent the next five minutes fawning over you and apologising). Now, Lyney didn’t fancy himself a hedonist but he quickly became addicted to the way you laved your tongue over his barbs, and grazed your teeth over the sensitive flesh. ❥ Lyney became overstimulated every time the two of you fucked. Though, that didn’t stop him from pushing himself past the point of sanity so that you’d cum on his cock. He felt selfish otherwise, and he found nothing more satisfying than bringing you to completion whether it be with his fingers, mouth, cock, or one of the many toys the two of you seemed to amass. So, even if he was on the brink of blacking out from the pleasure, his cock pink and raw, he was going to fuck you were just as far gone as he was. Even if it took hours. ❥ Sometimes he found himself getting hard just thinking about you. The mind was a fickle thing, it too often loved to play tricks. Like making Lyney’s innocent thoughts trickle into passion filled memories that left him aching and needy for you. He’d call you far too late into the night just to hear your voice as ground his palm against the weepy tip of cock, musing how much he missed the feel of your skin against his. He may have been cumbrained and addicted to your sweet cunt, but he was still a romantic.

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

#neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #lyney smut #lyney x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #gi smut #gi x reader #genshin impact x reader #wrio x reader #neuvilette smut #neuvilette x reader

[princessbrunette]

bunny!reader didn’t like being bad. infact, bunny!reader was bad at being bad.

“you slammin’ my doors now, huh? is that — is that what we’re doin’?” his voice booms through the hallway, and you regret it as soon as you’d happened to shut rafe’s bedroom door with just a tad too much attitude.

you wouldn’t call it a dispute, moreso you complaining. you’d gotten into trouble, purely over a misunderstanding on your part. barry had told you that he was your friend, and that you were welcome over to his place to hang out anytime. betrayed by your own naivety, you believed him — which lead to rafe all but dragging your ass back to tannyhill.

he doesn’t yell when he swings the door open, controlling himself. he knows deep down you didn’t mean any harm by it — so instead of spiralling out, he sucks in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he lifts a hand in thought.

“just… talk to me, alright? i need you to tell me you understand why you can not be friends with barry.” he stresses, opening his eyes wide to step towards you slowly, moving extra carefully because of the way your lip wobbled, body frozen up.

“i don’t want to talk.” you mewl, resisting the urge to thump your foot. you were never bratty, so he was allowing you some space — he had his limits though. rafe leans on his hip, holding his hand up again in despair.

“well, what — you want the belt, then? will that make you talk?” he shook his head, exasperated and you shake your head with a whimper. “okay then, so…?” he prompts.

“i just don’t understand. you’re the one who told me i should make some more friends!” you argue, voice high pitched and upset.

“yeah i meant girls at the country club, kid. not the god damn dealer i work with.” he drawls in response, blinking a couple of times like it’s obvious.

you hug your arms, feeling very silly about the whole thing as you shrink a little in stature. “i just thought that if we became friends with the same person… we could all hang out together. get to be around you more…” you bleat and he stressfully smooths his brow down with the pads of his fingers.

“thats not how it works.”

“well i’m sorry! barry is the one that said he wanted to be my friend!”

he tongues at his cheek for a moment before closing in on you, an irritated squint occupying his glare. “you really think he wants to be your friend? huh? nah, no really — really think about it baby.” he’s right infront of you, lightly tapping your temple to punctuate his word choice. rafe places a hand on your shoulder, bending to your level so he can look you properly in the eyes, forehead creasing in exertion. “i say this because i care about you, alright — he wants to fuck you. because — because that makes me look bad, right? and… and he’s always looking for ways to get back at me and plus you’re always sitting there with your fuckin’ titties hanging out your shirt so yeah, baby. he wants to fuck you.”

he lets go of you to pace, annoyed. you watch as he runs a hand over his jaw and you sniffle quietly. “oh.”

“yeah.” he speaks before glancing at you. he can see how upset the whole thing has made you, so he reluctantly starts back towards you with a sigh. “look. it’ll be easy for you to make some actual, female friends. okay? you’re a good girl. you’re — you’re kind and sweet and patient and they’d be lucky to have you.” he cups the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“am i your friend rafe?” you peer up at him, so innocently and earnestly that it takes him back.

“y— what?”

“are we friends? together?” you blink.

“you’re my girlfriend.” he speaks like it’s obvious.

“mhm, but are we friends too?”

he itches his cheek, never having really thought about it before. honestly, he didn’t really see it that way — but maybe that was because rafe cameron didn’t really have female friends. not before you and certainly not after you. it just didn’t interest him. aside from wanting to rip your clothes off 24/7, the boy did surprisingly just enjoy being in your company. so, he licks his parted lips and nods.

“that what you want? yeah, kid. i’m your friend. okay?” he swipes his thumbs beneath your eyes, collecting the mascara that had pooled beneath. “now stop crying.”

#rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

[autball]

When you can’t show what you know, people assume you just don’t know anything.

At least that’s how it works for most autistic kids who can’t speak, or can’t control their bodies as much as they’d like to, or can’t answer things “fast enough,” and so on. Because the people who give the tests really don’t want to entertain the idea that their tests might just be garbage sometimes.

Non-speakers who have gained access to communication later in life all tell a similar story: that they experience a mind-body disconnect that makes it hard for them to control their own bodies. That means that they struggle to perform tasks on command, whether it comes from other people or their own minds, and that their bodies will just do things that the person didn’t even mean to do.

And despite the growing number of people who are able to share these stories, most of the People In ChargeTM are still operating under the assumption that if you can’t answer a question or follow an instruction correctly, it’s because you didn’t understand it.

Which means that kids who can’t show what they know because their bodies won’t cooperate are assumed to just not know anything.

Which means they never get to move to the next level of education.

Which means there are millions of children who languish in educational settings that are not academically challenging enough for them- because the problem they have with their bodies is assumed to be a problem with their mind.

But the inaccessibility of assessments is the problem here. As well as the assumptions people make about those who are thought of as “low functioning.” As well as the fact that the majority of autistic kids who can’t speak are still not given alternative means of communication soon enough, if at all.

We can do better. Presume competence. Treat communication like a basic human NEED and a RIGHT, not an optional privilege to be earned. And believe the people who keep telling us as soon as they can, “It’s our bodies, not our minds!”

NOTE: I’ve been wanting to do something on this for a while, and this particular cartoon came together a couple weeks ago while I was listening to “Ido in Autismland” by Ido Kidar. Please do check it out, along with the work of other non-speakers, to learn more about this experience from the people who actually live it. 

https://www.amazon.com/Ido-Autismland-Climbing-Autisms-Silent/dp/0988324709

https://www.amazon.com/Autistic-Boy-Unruly-Body-Autism/dp/B0B7XF3CVT

https://neuroclastic.com/directory-of-nonspeaker-pages-blogs-media/

#autism #autistic #actually autistic #nonspeakingdoesnotequalnonthinking #nonspeaking #nonverbal #communication is a right

[finelinevogue]

notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec

[reidmotif]

And For My Next Trick...

Summary: Reader is invited to a Halloween party where she doesn't know anyone. Everyone seems absolutely insistent she has to meet a mystery man who'd love her costume ALTERNATIVELY: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, light mentions of drinking, oral sex (f recieveing), handcuffs during sex, one shitty “now you see me” magic sex reference (sorry), heavy making out, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4.3k

Why did I agree to this? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party when they work for the damn FBI? 

The answer was of course, summed up with a simple “Penelope Garcia”, a force of nature when it came to swaying people into novel life experiences, as she’d done with me in this moment. 

When I offhandedly recalled that I hadn’t been to a Halloween party since college, Penelope grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me a little, eyes wide like saucers, like she couldn’t believe what I’d said. 

“What?! What have you done since then to celebrate, then?” She asks, watching me intently.

“Nothing.” I respond, plainly, watching as her face morphed into one of further disbelief than before. 

“What can I say?” I say, giving a laugh at her over-exaggerated antics at my admission, shrugging in the face of it. “I just don’t vibe with it.” 

“What’s there not to ‘vibe’ with?!” She says, still holding onto my shoulders, absolutely unable to accept that I may have grown out of Halloween as the appeal of the holiday slowly dwindled with age. 

“Everything.” I respond, still laughing. “I don’t like over-drinking, I don’t like sexy costumes, I don’t like being scared. Halloween’s less fun when you’re older.” I listed and reasoned off the top of my head, as Penelope stood there shaking her head, not accepting my answers in the slightest. 

“Absolutely not. I refuse to let the spirit of Halloween die inside of you so young.” She responds, incredibly serious and unmoving. “You can have fun without all that! Come on! I can prove it to you.” She adds, definitively. 

I raise an eyebrow, watching her with an amused expression. “Can you now? And how’s that?” 

“Spend Halloween with me!” She retorts, instantly. She smiles big, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she grew more and more excited at the idea. 

“Aren’t you spending Halloween with your work friends?” I ask, knitting my brows. “Your FBI work friends?” I say, in that tone, letting her know that there was definitely a part of me opposed to spending any day of mine with people I didn’t know whatsoever. 

“Oh come on! Don’t give me that!” Penelope says, nearly pouting in front of me. “It’ll be fun! They’re my friends and they’re sweet and I think they’d love to meet you! You’ll have fun. Trust me.” She says, looking deep into my eyes as she willed me silently to say ‘yes’ with her expression alone. I stayed silent for a moment, thinking it over before she breaks my thoughts with a, “Please?” and in a quick moment, she’s overcome all my defenses and I nod, weak to her pleas. 

“Okay! Okay! Fine!” I say, smiling a bit. “I’ll go. But I swear, if all I get out of the night is shit-faced drunk with a hangover the next morning, I’m never trusting you with my plans ever again.” I warn, raising an eyebrow and she just shakes it off, smiling wide. 

“Deal. You’ll have fun, I promise.” She reiterates, and I nod, not realizing what I’d gotten myself into at that point. 

So that night, when Penelope pulled up in front of a bar after picking me up from my apartment, I gave her a quizzical look, tilting my head in confusion. 

“I thought this was a work party. You guys have work parties at bars?” I ask, knitting my brows. 

Penelope giggled as she put the car in park, shaking her head. “Oh, my dear. You have no idea.” I stare at her, patiently waiting for her to elaborate, and she does, continuing in her excited fashion without requiring any prompting from my end. “We rarely have time for any ‘parties’ of the sort, given the whole insane schedule thing, so when we get a chance to host a shindig like this, we go all out.” She says, grinning wildly. “Especially when it's Halloween.”

I got out of the car, trying to discern what she meant, but gave up, deciding to just nod and go along with it, knowing more questions would just confuse the hell out of me anyway. 

“Did I mention  I absolutely love your costume?” Penelope compliments, I smile, waving her off. 

“I literally dug it up from my senior year of college. I’m just glad it fits.” 

The number I was wearing, in question, was a sparkly red leotard, with black stockings. A bit of height was added to my figure through the kitten heels on my feet, and adorning my neck was a traditional bowtie, alongside a little top hat with red detailing around the head. On my waist hung a stuffed bunny, adding a bit more intention to the outfit. 

A magician’s assistant, in all its glory. It was a bit showy, but I figured most people would dress up regardless, and I wasn’t about to pay money for another costume for a holiday I rarely paid any mind to in the first place. 

“Whatever it is, it’s working for you.” Penelope says with a wink, leading me into the bar. 

The bar felt absolutely alive, buzzing with energy as multiple people walked around in costume, fog machines set up on multiple fronts to add a bit of a ghastly ambience to the scene, Halloween music playing in the background as people chatted each other up. The lights were dimmed, and I followed Penelope deeper into the party. 

She turned around, handing me a cup with an unidentified liquid, and urged me to drink with her.

“It’s just punch! I swear!” She says to me, over the music, and I down the beverage quickly, glad she was obeying my request of not leaving the party absolutely wasted. It left the distinct flavor of artificially flavored cherry in my mouth, and I looked at her, wondering where she’d take us next, but before I could say anything, a blonde woman dressed as a black cat approached the two of us and Penelope immediately wrapped her arms around her, smiling. 

“(Y/N)!” Penelope says, “This is JJ, JJ, my plus-one for the night, (Y/N)!” She exclaims, excited to introduce the two of us. 

I shake JJ’s hand, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you- I love your costume, black cats are my favorite.” I say, and she grins gratefully. 

“Last minute costume. Can you tell?” JJ responds, and I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” I respond warmly, already feeling a sense of kinship with the woman, her smile and lighthearted nature easing me into the interaction. 

“Your costume.. magician?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she gives me a look-over. 

“Magician’s assistant, actually, but yes.” I say, laughing a bit. “I suppose in a certain light I may just look like a sexy magician, in hindsight.” JJ laughs at the joke, making me laugh a bit more as well. 

“God, people here are going to think you and Spencer came here together.” JJ says, smirking, pouring herself a glass of punch. 

“Spencer?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“I won’t spoil his costume, but trust me. You have to find him at some point in the night. He’d love your costume.” She says the words with a playful lilt, my curiosity piquing at the idea of this mystery man who’d apparently be enamored by my choice of clothing tonight specifically. 

“I have to find my husband.” She quickly adds, “But it was nice meeting you! Have fun!” She says, sauntering away, and leaving me and Penelope alone. 

“Okay- so I was thinking we could look at the games they have here and then-” Penelope says, but I stop her. 

“Who’s Spencer?” I ask, my interest in the subject not being fully satiated here. 

“I work with him!” Penelope responds, and I laugh at her uncharacteristic briefness.

“Penelope, you work with everyone here.” I say, and she laughs. 

“Okay, okay, but- seriously! I don’t want to spoil the surprise. It’ll be much better if the two of you run into each other.” She says, and my fascination only increases. “So.” She says, trying to segue into another topic, but I shake my head. 

“Pen- if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna try and explore on my own, yeah?” I say, trying to seem as polite about it as possible, but she understood immediately. 

“Don’t worry. I understand completely.” She says, with a wink. “You’ll know him when you see him.” She says, before walking away, and I was left alone, beginning to traverse through the party. 

I met a number of characters that night, engaging in pleasant conversation and accepting some alcohol in small quantities, keeping myself in the right headspace so that I could continue my search for the man that’d been brought up to me before. When I’d bring his name up in conversation, as to get a hint to where the man would be, I’d always get the same reaction. A flash of recognition, and a smile. A “Do you two know each other?” and when I’d shake my head, they’d follow it with a, “He’d love your costume.” 

For God’s sake! I knew he’d love my costume! Every living soul at this party had told me so! I’d love to just see the guy at this point! 

I was just about to give up my search for the man, when I finally spotted a small crowd in the corner of the party that was a bit quieter than normal. I made my way into the group of people, coming to the front to be met with the sight of a man in a costume. 

A magician’s costume. 

“For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer.” He says, looking around the crowd, and the moment his eyes land on me, I raise my hand above my head, and he nods, gesturing me over. 

He speaks quietly, grinning a bit at me. It’s boyish and sweet as he looks me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Magician’s assistant?” He asks, with a little bit of laughter in his voice, and I nod, and he responds by nodding back. “I love it.” 

“I know.” I say, laughing. He looks a bit confused, until I say, “Trust me. Practically everyone at this party has been telling me to find you-"

I suddenly realize there's a good chance this may not even be the aforementioned 'Spencer'. "Oh, God, I hope you are him, otherwise this’ll be really awkward.” I say quickly, realizing I hadn’t even described my plight in the first place to the stranger in front of me, before he quickly alleviated my nerves. 

“Spencer Reid.” He says, grinning. 

“Thank god. You are the right person.” I say, with relief. “(Y/N).” 

“Alright, (Y/N).” He says, smirking. “Ready to help me with this trick?” He says, putting on a bit of a performance for the people gathered around us, and I nodded. 

“Pick a card, any card.” He says, fanning a deck of cards in my direction, all face-down. “Show it to the audience, but don’t tell me the card!” He says, dramatically, turning away entirely and covering his eyes with his free hand,  and I found myself giggling at the silliness of it all. I quickly picked a card from the middle of the deck, the two of hearts, ironically, and showed it to the audience, who all nodded in recognition. 

“Have you picked your card?” Spencer asks me, still turned away and I reply. 

“Yes, I have.” 

“And have you shown the audience?” Spencer continues, in the same, climactic tone from before. 

“I have.” I say, with a smile. 

“Alright. Put her back into the deck, and tell me when you have.” He replies, still totally turned away, his eyes shut. 

I place the card back in the deck, nestling it between the cards and he grins as he feels the disturbance to the deck. “The card is in the deck.” I confirm, and he turns back, beginning to shuffle the cards with fast, adept fingers. I watch his hands carefully, before he draws my attention  back to his face by speaking to me. 

“So, (Y/N), what brings you to this party in the first place? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the building.” He asks, casually, his hands still moving quickly. 

“Oh- what?” I found it impossible to focus on both his hands, and the conversation, so I turned my attention towards the latter. “Penelope.” I respond, after processing the question. “She’s my friend, she told me to come. I don’t know anyone here besides her.” I add, answering his question. 

“Ah.” He responds, cooly, keeping direct eye contact on me the entire time, and I was unable to tear myself away from his gaze. “Do you make it a habit to come to parties where everyone’s a stranger to you?” 

I laugh a bit. “Absolutely not. I mean, everyone’s been nice so far, I’d say, so it’s not half-bad.” I continue, relaxing into the banter with him. His aura was magnetizing. Maybe it was the magician persona he was putting on, maybe it was the fact that he was dead handsome, but I found him increasingly attractive with every passing second. 

He grinned, and I noticed that as our conversation dwindled, his hands began to slow. “Alright. Now, if my magician senses prove me right, is..” He takes a long second, making a show out of pulling a card out of the deck, “this your card!” He finishes, showing a.. six of spades. 

I laugh a bit nervously, “Uh, no?” I felt a blush rising to my face as he seemed to grumble, looking more thoroughly through the deck. 

“This?” He asks, holding up a three of diamonds.  

“Nope.” 

He holds up a queen. “This one?” 

“Still no.” 

“God, I swear..” He finally shows me the entire deck, watching me intently. “Do you see your card anywhere here?” He asks. 

I scan the deck, expecting to see the two of hearts but didn’t, and I furrowed my brows. 

“Is it not there?” Spencer asks, a specific lilt in his voice, as he grins playfully at me, and I look at him, still confused. 

“No, but I swear- I did put it back.” I say, looking through the cards in front of me one last time. 

“That’s strange.” Spencer responds, beginning to think. “Do you mind if I just..” He suddenly took a step closer, invading my personal space in such a swift manner, I barely had time to process what was going on.

I could feel his breath hitting me from above, as I turned my gaze up at the man in front of me. I could see him clearer, this way. The way his brown eyes watched me as well, the pink of his lips, the way his soft hair fell across his forehead. He reached forward, causing my breath to hitch before he slowly found my hat, lifting it from my head. 

“(Y/N), do you mind checking your hat for a moment?” He says, giving me the article of clothing. 

“Oh, I-” I stutter a bit, before taking the hat from his hands slowly and looking inside, seeing- 

No fucking way. 

I pulled out the two of hearts, which had somehow found its way into my hat. 

“How- You-” I say, before he stops me.

“Show the card to the audience.” He says, grinning, and I do. 

“That’s your card, isn’t it?” He muses, and I nod, absolutely dumbstruck. 

He gives a little smirk. “Take a bow. For being such a good assistant, you know.” He says, and I bow my head a little, still trying to wrap my head around how he managed to do the trick in the first place. 

The little group around us gave small claps and dispersed once the trick was over, leaving me and Spencer alone. 

“So..” I start, but he laughs and interrupts.

“Before you ask me, no. I will not tell you how I did that.” He says, almost reading my mind. 

“Come on!” I say, grinning. “You have to. That’s- that’s impossible.” I stammer. 

“I just did it, didn’t I?” He says, with a bit of cockiness in his voice, which made him even more attractive than before. 

“Okay but- No way!” I say, trying to think. “You must’ve planted it there. Or-” 

“I planted the card in a hat that had been on your head the whole time?” He responds, raising an eyebrow playfully. 

“But-” 

“No ‘buts’.” He says, smiling. “It’s just magic. And a magician never reveals his-” 

“I swear, if you finish that cliched sentence..” I warn. 

He raises his hands up in surrender, that boyish grin still gracing his face. “Okay! Okay! It’s true though.” He adds, and I find myself rolling my eyes.

He notices my displeasure, and laughs a bit. “Okay, tell you what. What if I taught you how to do the trick? That way I’m technically not flat-out telling you how to do the trick.” He says, and I nod, excited. 

“Wait- yeah. I would do that, in a heartbeat.” I respond, and he looks animated at the prospect. 

“It’s a bit loud here.” He says, raising his voice a little over the music in the bar. “I know we just met but- uh. Would you wanna come to my apartment?” He asks, a bit hesitant. “In the name of magic.” 

I watched his expression carefully, and saw the implicit desire painted in his eyes.

Wow. This costume must’ve worked a lot better than I expected. 

“I wouldn’t mind that.” I respond, sweetly. “Lead the way, magic man.” I say, a bit teasingly. There was something exhilarating about knowing that there was a good possibility he wanted me, the same way I found myself wanting him. 

He smiles, offering his arm to me as we walk out of the bar together. He leads me to his car, opening the door of the passenger seat to me like a true gentleman, and I smile, getting in. He starts the vehicle, beginning to drive away from the bar. 

“Have you always done magic?” I ask, attempting to start a conversation with the man next to me, who was still a near stranger at this point. 

He laughs a bit. “Yeah, actually. Before I ever started working for the FBI, I learned as a kid.” 

“What do you like about magic?” I ask, a little lamely, still trying to continue the flow of discussion between us, making an effort to know him better. 

He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t have too many friends growing up, so when I did.. I liked to entertain them.” He lets out a dry chuckle, a bit self conscious. I listened intently, finding myself more intrigued by him as he opened himself up to me. “It sounds silly, but I’ve always just enjoyed the feeling of making someone feel.. wonder.. amazement..?” He adds, hesitantly. “It’s just nice.” He finishes.

“That was probably way too personal for a question about magic, huh?” He says, after a moment. 

I shake my head. “No! No. That’s a great reason. Probably better than anything I could ever come up with for any of my own hobbies.” I say, trying to make him feel at ease, the way he had for me before. 

He smiles gratefully. “Thanks.” 

“So about that trick..” I start, grinning. 

“I’m not telling you how I did it!” He says, laughing. “You gotta work for it.” 

“Oh, come on.” I exclaim, before pausing.

“Okay, tell me this. How many ways can you do that trick? Is it only with specific cards?” 

“Nope.” He responds. “I can do that trick 52 ways. It’s all in the hands” He says, a little bit of pride in his voice. 

“52 ways, huh?” I say, grinning. “My god, Spencer Reid. You must be really good with your hands then.” I say, trying to flirt just a bit.

“Oh, you have no idea.” He responds, and for a second, I hear a hint of lust in his voice, and I realize I wasn't insane for thinking he wanted me back. I could feel his tone causing my cheeks to heat up, and my panties getting wetter in an instant.

“Oh?” I respond, my voice suddenly hoarse. 

“Yeah.” He responds, voice a bit deeper than before. 

“I’m sure you could show me once you get to your apartment.” I say boldly, testing the waters and I see him lick his lips, nodding. 

“I’d like that.” He responds, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, driving a bit faster than before. 

As soon as we made it past his front door, Spencer was pushing me against the wall, planting his lips on mine in a frenzy, as my hands went to take off his coat, both of our intentions clear at this moment. 

His hands trailed down to my waist, pulling me closer against him to the point where I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. The sensation caused me to moan, and he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue into my mouth, exploring as we continued to seek pleasure from the other, not paying mind to the consequences of our spontaneity. 

His hands began to move to the zipper of my leotard, slowly pulling it down as my hands went to his belt, undoing it as quickly as I could. I felt something in the pockets of his slacks, and pulled it out to reveal a pair of handcuffs. 

“Not my government issued ones. They're apart of the costume gear” He says, immediately, beginning to kiss at my neck. “We could use them, if you want.” He murmurs, his hot breath right at the hollow of my collarbone. 

I breathed in sharply, nodding. “Oh, god. Yes.” I could feel him pulling me by my hips, his lips never leaving the expanse of my skin as he pushed me onto his bed, caging me in between his arms as he continued with his ministrations. 

I could hear the soft moans of pleasure drawing out from my lips, my eyes fluttering shut. For an instant, I couldn’t feel his presence on me, until my hands were being raised above my head, and the small “snap” of handcuffs could be heard against me. I watched him, his gaze determined and lustful, checking the handcuffs to make sure they weren’t too tight, but that I couldn’t escape. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, beginning to kiss my fingertips, and making his way down my arm. He finally manages to pull off my leotard, and in a moment of what I could only describe as carnal desire, he rips open my stockings, discarding them on the floor as he made his way to the growing wet spot on my panties. 

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He growls, his breath hitting my wet heat, and I moaned at the sensation alone. He slid my panties down, leaving me entirely bare while he stayed mostly clothed, only adding to the appeal of our encounter. 

He settled in between my legs, and I watched him, my breath coming out in short, small gasps. 

“I need to taste you.” He murmurs, and I nod.

That’s all it takes, and he’s nearly devouring at my cunt. I can feel his tongue everywhere, languidly working at my sex before circling around my clit. I throw my head back, and feel my hands itching to grab at his hair, to grind against his mouth. It’s like he could feel my desperation, smirking against me. 

“Patience.” He murmurs, and I grumble a bit, but the annoyance quickly dissipates as he moves to suck around my clit, causing an entirely new slew of sensations to rack my body. I can feel myself writhing, and he hooks his hands under my thighs to keep me in place. Before I can even tell him, I’m coming against his face, my body convulsing in his touch as he continued to eat me out like he couldn’t get enough. 

He only stopped when I weakly moaned his name, looking up at me through my thighs, my wetness coating his chin. “Please- I need you.” I say, trying to now fulfill the growing ache that came from being so painstakingly empty. He nodded, understanding me immediately and moving to undo the handcuffs. Immediately, my hands wrap around his neck as I feel him free his cock from the confines of his briefs, and I briefly glance down, taking note of his size, and knowing how well I’d be fucked in a few brief moments. 

He guided his member to my aching cunt, and pushed into me, inch by inch. I could feel my breath snatched away in an instant, as my jaw dropped in a quiet moan. He seemed to enjoy the sensation of entering me as well, his eyes closing in concentration. 

“So warm.. so perfect.” He murmurs, moving down to kiss my jaw. “Can I move? Can I please move?” He begs, the neediness in his voice apparent. 

I nod, feverishly. “Yes. Please.” 

He immediately starts moving in a fast pace, using a strength I didn't know he had in him. I could feel myself shifting up the bed with every thrust he pummeled into me, and every movement of his hips only elicited longer, louder moans. It seemed to spur him on, as he pushed my legs to my chest to gain an even deeper angle, which had me screaming in pleasure at that point. 

“I’m not gonna last..” He moans out, and I nod, indicating we were in the same boat. His hand slipped in between our bodies, finding my clit in an attempt to have me finish before him. 

“Please, pretty girl.” He moans, his movements never letting up. “Come for me.” 

I do, feeling myself tighten around his cock, as my walls spasmed all around. It seemed to push him towards his release as well, as I felt his warmth seep into my deepest point. He pulled out of me, exhausted, laying beside me on the bed. 

His hands reached over for me, and I made my way into his arms, laying my head on his chest, feeling our rapid heartbeats calm down together after our act of passion. His chest rises up and down, as does mine, and we bask in the afterglow of what just took place. 

“We never did get to that magic trick.” I say, finally speaking, my words coming out a little breathlessly. 

I can feel his laughter as he places a tender kiss to the top of my head, as if we’d done this a thousand times before. “After that, I’ll teach you whatever you want. Sure you could teach me a thing or two too, hmm?"  

“Deal.” I say, closing my eyes and relaxing in the warmth of a man that was no longer as stranger than before. 

wow!! sorry for disappearing on you guys like that!! idk how long it's been since my last post, all i know it's been a while and i'm very deeply sorry!! i hope this makes up for it. i actually wrote this as a submission to @imagining-in-the-margins 's meet cute challenge, so! fun fun fun. please reblog, like, comment, or whatever!! i genuinely love seeing what everyone has to think . just as a warning, my posting may get sporadic for the next month or so, but i promise by december we're gonna be on that weekly fic grind. again, so sorry for the sudden disappearance!!! i appreciate everyone very much for their patience!!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“Let me get this right,” the villain said. Their smile was all teeth. “Your plan included an undercover operation in which you tried to infiltrate the supervillain’s facility. You succeeded and started working for them. You hacked into their system, got the information you needed but the supervillain started liking you a little too much. And now you need my help to fake a relationship?”

“Well, if you put it like that, it sounds a bit pathetic,” the hero answered. They were currently sharing a wine bottle with the villain in their office. It had been a long day and the hero wasn’t too keen on even more conflict.

Two weeks ago, the villain had told them that they’d figured out their identity.

That had been alarming. The hero had acted fast, had given the supervillain their resignation.

Unfortunately, the supervillain had basically been on their knees, begging them not to quit. They’d offered them more money, their own office, new tasks, less tasks, less work days, more breaks.

That was pathetic, too.

Even more unfortunately, the hero’s original excuse wasn’t good enough to say no to the supervillain’s offers.

“And I don’t think they’re…in love. They’re either lonely or I’m a pretty good asset,” the hero continued. “Either way, it would be nice to have you as a backup.”

“A backup?”

“Yeah, to be on the safe side. So if they ask me out on a date, I can tell them I’m in a relationship.”

The hero tilted their head. The wine had made them a little dizzy and the villain looked a teeny tiny bit too good right now.

“Believe me, a partner is not an obstacle for the supervillain.” The villain crossed their arms. They looked as exhausted as the hero felt.

Spending that much time around the enemy was…dangerous. The hero found them more and more entertaining. The villain was easy to talk to when they didn’t try to murder them.

“Exactly my thoughts. That’s why I asked you. Do you seriously think the supervillain would risk the stability of their own hierarchy? You’re more than capable to beat them in a fight. And together? We might be unstoppable if we actually started agreeing on a few things.”

“I like how you worded that.” The villain smiled and for a moment, they looked a little lost, as if they were imagining it all already. Their eyes went over the hero a couple of times until they focused on the hero’s. “You flatter me.”

“I’m stating a fact.”

“What’s in it for me, then?” The villain’s voice was deep and calm. As if they were deeply content with the situation.

Their hair was messy. Their eyes half-lidded. God, the hero should’ve said no to the wine.

“If we could somehow eliminate the supervillain, you’d be the next top predator in the food chain,” the hero argued. They shrugged. “If you’re nice, you can keep that position for quite a while.”

“A little corrupt, no?” the villain asked. They were sitting next to the hero on the couch, quite close actually, the hero realised.

Right now, they feared, the villain was their weakness.

“A problem I can deal with later. Right now, the supervillain is part of an illegal organ-selling business and I need to stop them. Stopping you can be my futures self’s problem,” they said and the villain laughed softly as response. They put their arm on the backrest of the couch. Their finger touched the hero’s back slightly but the hero doubted it was intentional. Their brain couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“You’re quite confident, hm?”

“I’ve known you for longer.” The hero leaned in, their face close to the villain’s. “I know your little secrets.”

The villain played along, smiled and their gaze dropped to the hero’s lips.

“Not all of them, dear.” The hero leaned in even closer but the villain’s hand landed on their thigh and squeezed gently. “Before you seduce me, I still have questions.”

The hero pulled back.

“Oh? Haven’t you edged me for long enough now?” Again, the villain laughed before they responded. It was a sweet sound, something the hero needed more of.

“First: why shouldn’t I tell my boss who you are? Us being in a relationship means that you’re in my business.” Their smile was undoubtedly of playful nature. The hero liked a challenge.

“Well, you don’t wanna be a subordinate forever, do you? The supervillain keeps you at their side because they’re afraid of you. You’ll be the new leader if we get rid of them.”

The villain nodded slowly.

“Good. Second: if you want to find out more about them, why aren’t you just dating them?” the villain asked.

That was a little more difficult to answer.

“Uhm, well…They’re not my type.”

The villain raised their eyebrows.

“Oh? Well, that leads me to my last questions already: am I your type? Why did you choose me? There are enough scary villains you can walk around like your dogs but you chose me. Why?”

The hero could only blush. Fuck, the villain could be really direct if they wanted. Along with the flirting and the teasing, the hero was quite aware that the villain wanted a confession, a true explanation as for why the hero had chosen them.

Because, truly, the hero had hoped for an opportunity like this.

And unluckily, the villain had seen right through it.

“Look, this organ-selling thing is really bad.” The villain checked them out yet again. But they didn’t push further. The hero assumed they loved the teasing a little too much.

“Mm. Oh, yes, yeah. I get it, I get it. Don’t worry about it.” This time, the villain leaned in, close enough for them to kiss but they only let the hero’s heartbeat go crazy. “I’ll think about it, hm?”

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Thoughts I have about Android!reader

Warnings: Just the regular sci-fi stuff that comes with androids, the 141 are a little mean because they don’t get it at first but they’ll warm up to you eventually

The Android program that made you was so hidden that no one outside a certain branch of the government knew about it…until they decided to put you to the test.

You were supposed to be the best data analyst, the best planner, the best library of intelligence, the best everything the military needed besides being a soldier (no laws for androids if they attack someone yet)

They made you look so close to human that Laswell and the 141 thought you were human despite all the wires underneath the false skin

At first they were accepting of a new member. Their own “guy in the chair” as Soap put it.

Soap and Gaz tried to make you feel welcome, inviting you out to drinks or to hang with them but you never took their offer

Ghost tried a couple times but when you blew him off he decided you weren’t worth the trouble and promptly ignored you

Your orders were to collect intelligence and use it, slowly let it make you smarter, bonding with the task force was not within them

Even Price tried, though nothing worked

“Even if you’re not on the field we’re still a team.” He told you one day as you were searching through the new intel they had recently gotten

“I understand but I’m just here to do my job to make your life easier.” That was always your response and frankly, it was starting to get on his nerves

You were starting to get on everyone’s nerves

They understood the need for professionalism but you seemed to take it to the extreme. You never interacted or interfered with anything they did but having you there, being unwilling to cooperate made them antsy

Were you a plant? Someone pretending to be their ally to get info? They didn’t know.

Soon they stopped interacting with you unless they absolutely needed to

It didn’t bother you. Nothing did. You didn’t have feelings, no emotions, you just did the job you were made for and did it exceptionally well without error

That was until you made one mistake

After analyzing all the intel you could you told Price the best course of action, one that you picked out from the hundreds of different generated plans you came up with that you knew would succeed…only for it to end up with Gaz in the infirmary

You were confused? Youre not sure if that’s what you could called it but you didn’t have a reaction in your code for that. There shouldn’t have been an issues, there was no margin for error in your calculations and yet he had been injured

After looking at the intel again, you decided it was time for damage control

Gaz was a little weary when you showed up at his bed, staring at him with those strange almost lifeless eyes of yours

“Your vitals are stable, you should make a quick recovery.” You told him and he nodded

“Nothing I haven’t had before. It could’ve been worse.” He assured you but you shook your head.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all. I thought my calculations were perfect but I made an error that could’ve costed your life. I’m sorry, sergeant Garrick.”

Gaz was baffled. One the one hand he wanted to believe you were sorry because this was the most you showed about caring for one of them but on the other hand you looked completely emotionless. It was a little awkward but he couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad at you or to think you were joking

“It’s all good.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “It happens. We still got what we needed, so no harm done.”

“…I see.” You were puzzled but nodded.

You expected repercussions. If your engineers knew you made a mistake they’d try to recode you so you wouldn’t make the same mistake again, possibly wipe you and start over.

But the 141 didn’t know you were a machine.

The others joined and you understood you wouldn’t be welcomed.

“Captain, I’d like to apologize to you as well for my error. It won’t happen again.”

Price just raised an eyebrow confused.

“You couldn’t prepare for an RPG taking down a helo…but alright.”

You didn’t stick around, deciding that you would go over the intel again to find what caused your mistake, leaving the 141 confused by you.

A/n: don’t really know what this is but just decided to write something, might continue it might not we’ll see

@writingmysanity

#android!reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #just a little something

[doobea]

WHEN THE SUN RISES - SAE ITOSHI

synopsis: You have doubts about your relationship. Sae provides reassurance.

contents: early established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, reader is a tad insecure, mentions of other couples and pda, talks about all things mushy with love word count: 1.1K a/n: waaahh cant believe i didn't post anything for my husband on his birthday im so terrible - this is something short and sweet ;-; i haven't posted anything in a bit bc I've been so tired lately LOL

You have doubts. 

Doubts about your work performance, test scores, your friendships, and sometimes the future — you know, the less important things. 

Your least favorite doubts are the ones about you and Sae. 

He’s not a bad boyfriend by any means. You’ve been dating each other for a while now, just shy of six months, and it’s been going well. Like any other college couple, you spend your free time together either marathoning a shitty reality TV show, studying, or eating at the local diners near campus once in a while for a ‘fancy’ burger and pizza date night (which Sae hates, by the way, but he goes because there’s nothing better around). You don’t blame him for these doubts because it’s just the way he is. You’ve always known this, along with everyone else around you. 

“Itoshi Sae? Yeah, he’s pretty cold and blunt.” They’d say in a hushed whisper. 

Another would agree, followed by an exaggerated shiver. “I heard even professors are scared of him.”

They’re annoying rumors and passing comments you've gotten somewhat used to. So you don’t blame the gossipers at your school either. Who you do blame are all the couples you would see, whether it’d be at school, at the grocery store, and sometimes even your own parents. Seeing things like holding hands, hugging, and even kissing each other goodbye sets something weird off in your chest.

And, well, you’ve known Sae for a while. You know that maybe he isn’t the type to be comfortable with these things, especially in public. And maybe you’re not going to guilt trip him into doing things that are out of his ordinary. But here’s the problem.

You do want to experience all of it.

“Sae?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like me?”

Your question throws him off just a tiny bit. He fumbles slightly with his flow of writing before catching himself and throws you a questioning look from across the table. 

It’s the midterm season so every floor at the university’s library is packed. All but the top floor, which is mainly reserved for graduate students, who are rarely even on-site. So you two manage to snag a booth in the corner by the bathrooms and water fountain. You’ve been studying for about two hours straight and the thought of going over the rules of the Krebs cycle again haunts you so you let your doubts take over. Hence, why you blurted out the question that’s been burning on your mind for the past week. 

“I do, why do you ask?” He doesn’t sound bothered by it, so you take that as a good sign.

But how do you go about asking him to show that? Maybe asking upfront would be too demanding right now. You decide to dance around the subject a little more.

There’s a moment in silence, your eyebrows creased in deep thought before you finally speak, voice clumsy and almost rough sounding. “When did you realize you liked me?”

He answers without missing a beat, eyes never leaving his notebook. “Dunno.”

Well, that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. 

“Huh?”

“What?” Sae breaks his focus and stares at you, as if you were the one who had said something weird. “You asked and I answered.”

“You have to explain with that sorta question, you know?”

In just the tiniest of motions, Sae frowns. He’s holding his breath for a few seconds in preparation and his eyes soften. “I’m not sure when I fell in love with you.”

Woah—wait love? This is also not what you were expecting out of this conversation either. Is it too late to go back to studying now?

Sae picks up the worried look on your face and manages a soft chuckle. “You know when the sun rises?”

You’re patting your face with your hands now, hoping to eliminate the burn on your cheeks. The sweat forming in your palms doesn’t help at all. And, frankly, you’re confused by his question. “Um, between six and seven?”

“Well, yeah,” he laughs again and you’re not sure if that was the answer he was looking for. “But it always rises, right?”

“Right,” you say slowly, still confused by what he’s trying to get at.

“I’m not sure when I fell in love but whenever the sun rises, it reminds me of you,” Sae explains with a leveled expression, ignoring the little surprised squeaks from your direction. “It’s been like that for a while now and brings me comfort whenever I do wake up early to see it rising.”

“Did you get that line from a K-drama or something?”

He rolls his eyes and fake scoffs. “Thought you wanted an explanation?”

“Well,” you bite back a giggle and continue, “you never struck me as a metaphor type of guy.”

“And you never struck me as the jealous type.” 

You grow hotter because wow guess you haven’t been that great at hiding away your feelings—or maybe your boyfriend is just that good at being perceptive as he is being a top honor student. “Was it that obvious?”

“When you’re looking at other couples and grumbling right after then yeah, it’s pretty obvious.” Sae’s tone doesn’t carry any ounce of tease and he gives you a fond look. It makes you feel slightly guilty and embarrassed. 

You shrink deeper into the booth, holding your textbook up to your face. “Sorry…”

The seat next to you dips and a familiar pair of hands gently snatches the book away from you, revealing Sae’s rare soft expression again. 

“Don’t be,” He reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving his laptop and notebook over to your side. “Plus, you shouldn’t worry that much, I’ll always be with you.”

A pause and then you decide to blurt out your other burning question because things are already out in the open at this point. “Would it be alright if we start doing more couple-ly things together?” 

“Mhm,” he’s about to dive back into studying but stops, humming in thought. “What should we do more?”

“Well, aside from me,” Sae deadpans and you straighten your posture. “Sorry, sorry, what I meant to say is I guess more PDA? Holding hands would be a good start.”

“Okay,” He says quietly and drops his pen, carefully interlacing his fingers with yours.  

Sae’s hands are warm, maybe even sweaty if you’re not mistaken. You look up and oh — his cheeks have the tiniest amount of red on them. Probably no different from the resurgence of warmth you’re currently feeling too.

“Better?” Sae asks and squeezes your hand.

“Yeah, better.” You squeeze back. 

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #doobea writing #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #blue lock fluff #blue lock x gn reader

[burntheedges]

Worth It For Once

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3  chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!

summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.

a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall

...

You could hear them talking about you.

You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.

It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.

You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”

As always, it didn't really help.

You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.

Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.

…

“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left. 

“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.

Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”

You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.

Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”

You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”

With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”

You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.

But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene. 

“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”

You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”

She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”

You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.

“My offer to punch him still stands.” 

Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.

…

The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.

Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.

You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.

You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take. 

It was him.

Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.

Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop. 

As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.

Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.

“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.

“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.

“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.

You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.

There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.

Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.

One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.

His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.

Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.

Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless. 

“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?

Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look. 

“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.

“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.

Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.” 

You winced.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”

You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”

Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”

You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”

You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”

“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”

Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.

“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You nodded and started to smile. 

He smiled back. “When are you free?” 

“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”

He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”

Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

…

You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.

Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together. 

Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)

You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.

“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.

You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”

She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”

“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.

“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach. 

“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”

You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”

The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.” 

It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.

“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.

“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner. 

Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around. 

“Great,” you muttered.

She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.

Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him. 

He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”

Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”

You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.

“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”

“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”

“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed. 

He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”

You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”

You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.

“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.

He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.” 

You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.

…

A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her. 

“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you. 

He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him. 

You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”

You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking. 

“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.

“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.

Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–” 

You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”

He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”

Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough. 

“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”

Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”

You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.

“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”

“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”

“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”

He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.

You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”

The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him. 

Frankie smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”

Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.

“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch. 

“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you. 

“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this. 

You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.” 

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled. 

“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”

“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand. 

“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.

You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”

Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”

Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”

You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”

Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”

He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”

“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”

Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”

He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”

…

The next night, you were anxious.

Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.

He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.

You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.

Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat. 

“Frankie, you look–”

“Hermosa, te–”

You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together. 

“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered. 

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”

Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.

“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked. 

“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.” 

On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.

“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned. 

“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night. 

When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant. 

“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date. 

The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.

“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard. 

You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better. 

Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –

But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.

You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.” 

He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.

You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table. 

“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.” 

He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.” 

You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”

Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”

You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last. 

The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.

By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.

He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.

But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner. 

They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.

You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door. 

Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”

He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.

After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”

You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”

He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful. 

“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again. 

“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.

Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.

By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch. 

As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.

You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.” 

You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.

“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you. 

Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.

He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.

“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours. 

“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.

You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”

He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.

“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”

You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”

“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”

You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words. 

He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes. 

“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.

Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”

“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”

You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.” 

He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)

You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 

Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.

“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.

“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.

He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them. 

“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”

“Frankie–” you started, breathless.

He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.

“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.

You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there. 

You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.

“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched. 

Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.” 

His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled. 

“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.” 

He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”

He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.

You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.

As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.” 

As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.

He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”

You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed. 

“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.” 

“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss. 

He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.

“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.

He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation. 

“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.

“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)

You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.

“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”

You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.

He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.

“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”

You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.

On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.

He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.

After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.

“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”

You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)

On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.

He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.

It was beautiful.

His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..

“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”

You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.

“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.

You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”

“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.

After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.

You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.” 

You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.” 

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”

As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again. 

Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.

...

a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡

tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese

#frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfiction #x reader #here we go #ts drabble challenge

[ellecdc]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFx4A93R/

Dude in my opinion, the moonwater couple are like tidy couple? Do you get what i mean? Like they will keep everything at their place amd everything clean?

What will be their reaction if reader shows them this video and ask them if they would do the same to reader as a lesson?

It'll be cool if it can be a fic. But idk if your request is open. I just immediately went to this ask without checking it first

omg first of all - fuck that guy fr fr lolllll. Also that is such a sweet headcanon to have about moonwater - what does everyone else think? I totally agree with Regulus being super organized and tidy, but I'm not sure about Remus? Perhaps if he was with Regulus then yes, he'd be pretty tidy.

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has hair ties and bobby pins and wears makeup

It was sort of comical the way that the three of you created some sort of spectrum of tidiness in your relationship.

Regulus was by far the tidiest of the bunch. As a matter of fact, if you didn’t see Regulus haunting the halls of your flat, you’d be hard-pressed to believe another person lived with you at all. He was so tidy, in fact, that he would often follow behind you as you tidied in order to re-tidy, though he never made a big deal about it.

“Don’t worry, mon amour, I’ll handle it. You go sit.”

He was simply just a tidy person – something that likely followed him into adulthood from his home life as a child – and he, as well as you and Remus, readily accepted that.

Remus was less tidy than Regulus but not nearly as liberal as yourself. Sometimes, you’d find Regulus picking up the odd stray half-finished cup of tea, or books that were turned face down and never returned to, but that was roughly the extent of Remus’ mess. 

Remus was what you called a piler – he had various piles of things throughout your shared home that may look random or out of place to the layperson but seemed to be the pique of organization in Remus’ mind. He was also the kind of person who would clean as he cooked and wouldn’t sit down to eat until the kitchen was cleaned up behind him.

Couldn’t be you, however. 

You were sure you seemed like chaos personified compared to your two boyfriends, always leaving a ‘trail of destruction’ behind you as Regulus once (lovingly) referred to it as. There was evidence of you everywhere – hair ties, bobby pins, half-finished drinks, books, magazines, and the likes. No one would have to wonder if you were home from work, seeing as your shoes were hastily tossed aside, your keys thrown onto the console table rather than hanging in their rightful place, your bag hung over the back of a chair, and your hair tie sitting on the kitchen table – all screaming “your girlfriend’s home!”

And though your boyfriends have occasionally taken the piss for your untidiness, it had never escalated to anything more than a “hey dove, can you come rinse your paint brushes that you’ve left in the sink” or a “amour, I don’t know where your makeup goes, can you come put this away?”

So, when you saw this video on Tiktok, you couldn’t help but ask them if they’d ever consider doing this to you to teach you a lesson. 

“‘Teach you a lesson’!?” Regulus repeated incredulously, already looking horrified and you hadn’t even shown him the video yet.

“Why…why does he have a hammer?” Remus asked cautiously.

Suffice it to say, the boys did not like the video.

“I’m not watching this.” Regulus spat and stood from his spot on the couch next to Remus rather abruptly. You momentarily felt bad for showing it to him, knowing that signs of even mild aggression like this could be triggering to someone who grew up in a tense household, but felt better when he turned to glower darkly at you, knowing then that his ire was only half-hearted. 

“Dovey,” Remus pleaded, his face looking horrified as he watched the man smash his girlfriend’s makeup. “Why…oh my god. If I ever do something like that to you, you fucking leave my arse, alright? Punch me right in the face whilst you’re at it, too.”

“Not me.” Regulus added, not making it very far after refusing to watch the video and leaning against the back of the couch to continue watching it over Remus’ shoulder. “Just kill me; put me right out of my misery if I insist on being such a miserable wanker.” 

You snorted a laugh as both boys scoffed derisively at the “I heart you” written on the mirror, Regulus looking thoroughly disgusted and Remus still seemingly horrified. 

“Oh, he loves her. I guess that makes it alright then.” He muttered sarcastically. “What’s this woman’s address? Tell her we’re sending her a gift card to…. what’s the store that you like?”

“Sephora.”

“Sephora; tell her we’re sending her a gift card to Sephora.”

You chuckled and leaned further into Remus’ shoulder. “You have to keep watching, he says he’s going to take her shopping for all new stuff after.”

This caused a pained groan to rip through Regulus’ throat as he began muttering angrily in French and finally wandering away. “Idiot absolu. On dit que ce n'est pas tous les hommes, mais il y a des hommes comme ça. Je ne peux même pas les appeler des hommes, plutôt des putains de bambins.”

“Why would you show me this?” Remus turned to look at you, his bottom lip jutting out comically. “This is making me so sad.”

“I wanted to know if you would resort to something like this because of my mess!” You defended.

“Oh, dove. You’re not messy, you’re just not as tidy as Mr. Clean-Freak over there.” He motioned towards the direction Regulus had gone with his head earning him a “you watch yourself monsieur les tas” from his boyfriend’s disembodied voice.

Remus pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and only broke away because he couldn’t stop smiling. “I would clean up after you for the rest of my life if it meant getting to keep you around.” He said proudly, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.

“Remus.” You moaned, pressing another kiss to his lips. “So, you wouldn’t ruin my makeup for leaving it out?”

Remus scoffed and turned back to his book. “Not in a million years.”

“Come on amour! Get your jacket, we’re leaving.” Regulus called to you from the door. You could hear him jingling his car keys.

“Where are we going?” You called back.

“Sephora. I have to buy someone makeup now. If I can’t send some to the internet girl, I may as well spoil my own.” 

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #regulus black #remus lupin x regulus black #moonwater #moonseeker #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #poly!moonseeker #poly!moonseeker x reader #poly!moonseeker x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #moonwater fluff #moonseeker fluff #ellecdc fics

[eveningepiphany]

far from sober | H.S

my masterlist

part II

summary: you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.

warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people (including close family members), fluff, sexual tension, brothers best friend, drunk crying lol

a/n: sorry I haven’t posted properly in a while! here’s a shorter piece while I work on some more stuff <3 plenty to come x

———

Saying you were a bit drunk was a drastic understatement.

You were stumbling all over the place, heels becoming impractical now you were so intoxicated.

Harry, who knew you were going out with some of your family and friends tonight at the bar, had no idea what he was coming back to.

You don’t remember actually intending to get this drunk, but your Aunty had been egging the group on to do some shots, and before you know it you’re well past tipsy. Even your mum was getting drunker than you’d seen in years.

So all the other boys who’d gone out— including Harry— walk into the hotel bar. It was as chic as the lobby, just adorning some more neon signs and rustic bar stools.

Harry had gone out with them to look at a heap of shit that you and your female family members had little interest in. They’d insisted you all stay and just have a couple cocktails, since it was a holiday after all.

It was to their surprise when your same eager aunt bounded up to them when they popped through the door to the bar. They had expected tipsy, but not hammered.

“Oh my god!! You guys will not believe how good the cocktails are here!” She swooned, and they all glanced at each other with an amused chuckle.

“I think I just might believe it.” One of the boys piped up.

Most of them dispersed to find their significant others, family or friends amidst the bar, and see how much chaos was being caused.

But you’d b-lined straight for Harry, regardless of whether he was seeking you out.

His brows shot up when you collided with his side, “Harry!”

Your arms wrap around his middle and you end up latching onto him, practically using him to keep yourself upright.

“Oh!” He speaks in surprise, hands jumping up to brace around your lower back.

“Are you absolutely hammered too, love?” He chuckles and you bury your face into his chest.

“Yeaaaaa…” you drawl, a smile spreading onto your face.

“Everyone else is rounding up their partners. Suppose I’m in charge of you, yea?” He suggests, rubbing your back.

“Wanna—“ you hiccup, “have a drink with me?”

He shakes his head with amusement, “I think you’ve had plenty, sweetheart. We should get you back to your room.”

Most of your drunk family were getting escorted out by their respective people, being taken up to their hotel room before they can drink themselves any sillier.

This included your brother, Leon, who had his longtime girlfriend pulled into his side, holding her half up and laughing a little at her drunken slur.

He came to a stop when he seen both of you, eyes flitting between your two figures. A small twitch of his brows suggested he wasn’t sure of how he felt about the sight.

“You got her?” He asks, a protective edge to his voice. One that drunken you missed easily as you stayed plastered against him— which is something sober you would not do in general, let alone in front of your brother.

Harry nodded straight away, understanding his defensiveness over you since he feels the same about Gemma. He said softly, “Of course, I’ve got her mate. I’ll take her up to her room.”

Leon glanced at you again. Harry and him met when they were 9, and they’ve been best friends since then. He trusts Harry with his own life, and knows he’d never ever do anything that would hurt you, but his protective side is still flaring up.

Only when his girlfriend, Brie, complains of feeling nauseous he curtly nods, and continues heading for the door.

You are again, oblivious to all this, running your fingers along the tattoos exposed on his forearm— his sleeves rolled up to his elbows— putting his gorgeous skin out on display for you.

“I loveee your arms.” You slur, and his eyes shoot from the door back down to you.

He rarely sees you this drunk, and you’re suddenly very close— making comments that for many reasons are bringing a flush to his face.

“Y/N, Jesus you’re hammered.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

He slowly starts walking, “Cmon, let’s go. Y’brother is expecting me to get you back to your room in one piece.”

“You definitely won’t have a drink with me?” You whine, taking a few steps backwards trying to tug him in the direction of the bar instead of the door.

“Nope. Maybe tomorrow if you can even stomach alcohol.” He pushes the doors from the dimly lit bar open, and leads you into the back of the lobby that it’s connected to.

You squint at the dramatic change in lighting, which is hardly helping your sense of perception, or lack thereof, from the alcohol.

Harry’s hand has taken yours though, leading you to an elevator.

You noticed how warm it was, smooth against yours, aside from the rougher pads of his fingers from the years of playing guitar.

Being so off it, you could not keep that thought to yourself.

“Your hands are so soft, H. Like silk.” You say as you walk into the first elevator to open, squeezing his hand.

“First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered.” He smiles, squeezing back.

“what floor are y’on, by the way? D’ya even remember— or are we a bit too wasted for numbers?” A teasing lilt is in his voice.

You half-laugh half-hiccup, “it’s… 7…?”

“You hardly sound certain about that.” He nudges you with a laugh, “It’s 12, we’re on the same one, remember.”

You laugh much harder than any sober person would, which makes it funnier to him. Since it was a mediocre joke at best.

You’re still laughing as you touch his chest with your palm, “you’re not funny.”

His gaze travels down to it, and he’s shocked at how touchy you are. You never do shit like this when you’re sober. His own amusement quickly takes the back seat, even though you’re still giggling.

However your face falls shortly after, laced with a curious gaze as you slide the neck of his long sleeve to the side, in search for the swallows inked onto his collar bones.

He watches as your eyes wander the small expanse of skin there, and how your fingers brush the tattoos.

“Having fun?” He asks, trying to joke again, but really he’s undeniably a little worked up.

“Yah, heaps.” You snap your gaze back up to him as you enthusiastically nod.

He hates the fact he’s blushing so hard right now over this, since you’re drunk and not completely in control, but he at the end of the day is a man with a very pretty girl— which happened to be you— pulling at his top like she wants it off him.

You hum to yourself, “Have such a pretty neck.” And you trail your hand up it, running a finger over his adams apple.

The elevator door opens like a blessing, and he quickly moves to make distance between the two of you.

“Can you remember your room number, darling? That’s one thing I actually don’t know.” He looks to you as you follow him out with clumsy moments.

“Uh… I dunno— wait I think the keycard is in my purse.”

He laughs at this— wondering if it will come to you in time once you sober up.

“Fuckkk.” You groan. “My purse is in Molly’s big handbag.”

The groan soon turns into a whine, because drunk and being slightly inconvenienced is not a good pair.

“It’s ok!” He amends quickly, trying to keep from having a drunken meltdown on his hands, “We’ll just got back to mine, only if you’re comfortable?”

He quickly prepares for you to not want that, “otherwise— I’ll call her, she didn’t seem too wasted, I’m sure she can—“

He’s interrupted by you, “I don’t mind going back with you.”

You say it with a confused look on you face, a tiny pout on your lips.

“Why would I be uncomfortable going with you?”

“Because… well— I’m not sure. I just wanted to leave you with other options.”

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone together before— you’ve actually spent plenty, but just never with you drunk.

And so touchy.

“No. It’s ok. I love being with you!” You chuckle.

He leads you down the hall, pulling the keycard from his back pocket once he reaches his room, 3313.

The door clicks open, and he holds it open for you, following you in shortly after.

You’re still unstable on your feet, and one look at those heels, he’s surprised you haven’t ended up on the floor in the last ten minutes

They’re practically a health and safety issue. He can not imagine you getting them off right now— which is exactly what you’re about to bend over and attempt.

Before you can throw off your centre of gravity, he quickly says, “Go sit on the bed.”

You glance back over your shoulder, face only lit by the light from the lamp in the corner of the room.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think, Harry?”

He toes off his own shoes, shaking his head immediately at your drunken misconception of what he asked.

“So I can take your shoes off.”

You make the few steps left to the bed safely, and you sit at the edge of it, still giggling as you say, “just my shoes, huh?”

“Yes.” He walks over, kneeling down on one knee, pulling your heeled foot up onto the strength of his thigh.

He fiddles momentarily with the laced up string, warm hands splayed on your calf, and choosing to ignore the way your dress is riding up your thighs.

Christ. This is harder than he thought.

“I forget how hot you are sometimes.” You deadpan, and his jaw goes a little lax.

You’re usually playful, yes, but never do you breach into territory like this.

It was only others, like those at a family gathering, or your close friends, that would push to get stuff like that out of you like they were matchmakers.

There were many times that barbecues or some kind of event held at yours, Leon would invite Harry over. And if the two of you even interacted for just a second, someone in your family circle would tease you. Especially your own damn brother— it was a constant streamline of snarky comments from him.

“You are so drunk.” He mumble while pulling up your other foot.

You ignore his statement, thinking back to when he was a boy to now. He was cute— always was— but the way he looks now is just unmatchable.

“Have you always looked so… like… this?”

He chuckles, almost nervous, “what does question that even mean?”

“So pretty.” You clarify after a moment of trying to find the word.

“Ah, you’re only saying that because you’re plastered up the walls.” He laughs, and a dimple popped on his cheek, and your hand jumped into action before you could even think about it.

“Noooo, sober me thinks that too. She thinks you’re more than pretty.” You say, cupping his jaw, gently tracing the dimple that popped up.

He doesn’t know how to interpret any of this. His heart is jumping in his chest, and he’s trying to reason its genuinely just the alcohol in your system.

He holds eye contact as he slips off your other shoe, placing in neatly next to the other.

He stays there for a moment, unprepared for your next question.

“Can I kiss you?”

She’s drunk, she’s drunk, she’s drunk…

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.” He says, and it’s painful— because he wants to, so fucking bad, but you’re not in a state to consent to literally anything at the moment.

And especially not in the mind frame to be making decisions like this.

You lean forward anyway, before he has a chance to avoid it, managing to meet his lips on your own terms.

He caved for a brief flash of time, and allows a second for himself to feel it, no longer than that though. Just a mere moment to take in the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. It takes so much strength for him to not kiss you back, he has to focus on the task at hand— sobering you up and getting you safely asleep.

He pulls back after that single moment, leaving his forehead against yours, “baby, I know, I really…” he cuts himself off.

A deep inhale and he stands up, “Not tonight. Cmon, let’s get you out of your dress. You can wear something of mine.”

He walks over to his suitcase, anything to remove you from his sight for a moment, to reset his thought process. He pulls out a tshirt and pair of gym shorts, hoping they won’t be too big on you.

Turning back around, he convinces himself he’s fine. Placing the clothes from his bag on the bed beside you, his hands come under your arms, helping you stand up on flat feet for the first time in hours.

You lean into the touch, turning around so he can undo the back of your dress.

The feeling of his fingers brushing your back have you going wild, and the way they gently slide the zipper of your dress down.

His eyes lock with the back of your lacy bralette and he chooses not to follow your skin any further down.

You use your hands to slip the straps off your shoulders— and very quickly the dress is pooling at your feet.

A shaky inhale passes through his nose as now you stand in just your underwear and a seemingly very pretty bralette.

He reaches and picks up his shirt from the foot of the bed.

“Do you want to… take this off before…?” He gestures to your bralette when he catches your eyes.

You nod, reaching behind you to undo the clasp and allowing it to slip from your shoulders to the floor.

Harry puts all his focus on getting the tshirt over your head to cover you up.

Once it’s over your whole frame, you can’t help but smile.

He’s so nervy and cute around you.

“Thanks, Harry.” You smile, suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of adoration for him hit you.

It inflated up in your chest, and bubbled deep into the pit of your stomach.

It killed Harry to watch it happen, and although he had no idea what kind of thoughts were going on in your head, just seeing you light up like that…

You wrapped your arms around his middle again, just like you did when you ran up to him in the bar.

He placed his hands in your hair this time, taking in your scent— which was mixing with his own now that your were in his shirt.

“Love, if you were sober right now. God.” He confesses.

“Im sober enough.” You beg, even though it’s such a lie.

He still shakes his head against you, “‘M not gonna be that guy, Y/N. I have waited years just to have you. I can wait another night. Or week. Or a whole ‘nother year if that’s what it takes.”

This hits you hard.

And it felt like your 15 year old self could hear it up in the confines of your head it rung through you that loudly.

She loved him then, more than she’d ever admit. And sure, you’ve grown up from 15, but yet never once did you grow out of him.

As noted earlier, being drunk and inconvenienced is not a good pair. But being drunk and having someone say or do something sentimental like that is another level.

Tears immediately start to fall from your eyes, and he feels your chest shake at the sudden outburst of emotion.

He pulls back, thinking he’s done something wrong, or said the wrong thing, and an apology was immediately on the tip of his tongue.

But relief thrums through him as you tug him right back into the hug, “that’s— that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“The nicest thing a boys ever told me.”

“Sweetheart.” He coos as you cry, his own voice wobbly with emotion.

He feels like he’s on a roller coaster. 5 minutes ago it seemed all he could think about was the unspeakable things wanted to do to you, and now he just wants to lay you down and hold you until you fall asleep.

He forgets the shorts on the foot of the bed, shuffling the two of you up to where the head of it is— which was still unmade from last night when he’d slept in it.

He tugs you into it, pulling you tightly too his chest as your heads hit the pillows.

And he just hugs you.

Eventually, your crying subsides off, and you enter an indescribably calm state.

“I love you. I don’t even know if you’re going to remember this in the morning.” He sighs, “but fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.” You whisper, before your eyes begin to fall heavy, and those words were the last to leave your lips before you fell asleep.

———

PART II, found here

a/n pt2:

back again guys, hello!

this is like an extended a/n, but I have a lil update. I saw harry for the very first time live 3 weeks ago. it was so so incredible, and the experience was by far the best time of my life. I miss harry so much i just feel sick ugh. he is perfect. auslot was amazing, he absolutely gave us his all.

that’s why I’ve been so absent on here, literally coping with my pcd a day at a time. I’ve written heaps but nothing I’m 100% happy with haha.

but anyways I just thought I’d share, thank you so much for your continued support and know there is plenty in the works x

all my love, <3

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #best friend!harry #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #best friends brother #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #drunk! y/n

[soapskneebrace]

Obviously if your asks aren’t open then feel free to disregard this- (love your work btw I just- I cant- 🥰)

Do you think they keep the dog tags *ON* during sex? How do you think they’d wear them during it? Would they have you wear them?

You don’t HAVE to answer for each individual character obviously if you would rather just do it as a whole or just one that’s fine! Whatever works for you 💕

*cracks knuckles* I’ll do ‘em all. (Sorry for the long post, I’ll put it under a readmore when I get home 🙏)

Do the Tags Stay on in Bed?

Ghost wears his tags because, like the mask, they just don't ever come off. He is two people when he is with you--Ghost is the creature that can protect you, that can do the things Simon Riley would have been too weak for when it comes to your safety. But Simon is the man that could have loved you properly. Simon is the man Ghost believes could make you coffee in the morning, could rub your neck at the end of a long day.

It isn't initially why he wears his tags when he fucks you, but it is now--Ghost holds you in an iron grip, looms over you as he thrusts into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, and feels the tags with a dead man's name clink against his chest. They remind him that you deserve whatever is left of the man who would have been far better for you than Ghost ever could be.

Soap wears his tags fully out of pride. The SAS is his life, is a massive part of his identity, and while he knows not every mission he's sent on is wholly for the good, he holds onto his conviction to act with integrity and compassion no matter what. The SAS might not always do good, but he will, as much as he can.

He wants you to be proud of him, too--he's really doing it all for you, after all. When those tags hang between you as your legs are wrapped around his waist, as they come to rest on your chest when he leans down to kiss you, he wants you to know that when he wears them he's thinking of you.

Gaz has no preference, but more often than not they stay on because he forgets to take them off. Usually, it's because the moment you're both free with enough time to actually have sex, he isn't going to bother with silly things like getting completely undressed--he wants you, now.

So, they've whacked you in the face a couple times as the two of you have gone at it. It's too funny to get mad at, and Gaz always uses it as an excuse to "make it up to you." Sometimes he'll take them off, too, and put them around your neck instead. "Keep 'em safe for me, eh?" he says with a grin.

Price takes his tags off. Over 20 years of service have left him wanting something that exists apart from violence and bloodshed, and every moment he spends with you is that something. He doesn't want to be the Captain with you, not unless he has to be--putting his tags aside gives him permission to just be John with you.

Besides, they'd get in the way. John does his very, very best to please you, to satisfy you beyond any expectation you may have of him, and sometimes that leaves you needing to bite down on his neck to keep from screaming. You’d probably not prefer to break a tooth on the tags’ chain.

Alejandro also takes his tags off, although it’s less about keeping work and pleasure separate and more about the annoyance they can be. When he is with you, Alejo is focused wholly on you, and does not appreciate distractions of any sort. He doesn’t want to have to fling his tags around to get them out of the way, or let them hang to be caught on an errant foot or wrist.

He does, however, love to see you wear them. It’s totally a possessive thing, but in the best way—Alejo worships the ground you walk on, and seeing his name around your neck inspires the same awe usually reserved for the divine. He thinks you could have anyone you wanted, and is humbled daily that you continue to choose him.

Rudy doesn’t care either way if the tags are on or off, and if the topic ever comes up he leaves that up to you. It’s an attitude that is very in-character—Rudy’s satisfaction comes from ensuring that you are satisfied, no matter what. Rudy’s love language, hands down, is acts of service.

Similarly to Alejo, however, he does enjoy seeing you wear his tags. “They belong to you anyway, mi vida,” he’ll tell you, lining your neck with gentle kisses. “All of me does.” (He has been known, however, to forget where he puts them if they do come off. So it’s probably better if they stay on.)

Bonus: Valeria gave hers to you a long time ago. She asks very frequently to see them, to make sure you keep them with you at all times. She promised herself she would never, ever carry their weight again, but she also can’t quite bear to throw them away, so now they stay with the only person in the world that she trusts.

If you wear them to bed, it will inspire a frenzy in her that will leave you limping the next morning. Those tags are a past version of her, a version she emerged from like a snake shedding its skin. While she is never sure how to feel about that previous self, seeing you take care its vestiges satisfies an ache in Valeria that she will never acknowledge.

Bonus: Graves has mixed feelings about his tags overall, being that he is technically not required to wear them anymore. They don’t mean the same thing to him now that they used to. That doesn’t mean they aren’t always on him, of course—he keeps them tucked into his boots. So you never see them.

If you were to ever find them, bring them into the bedroom? It could go one of two ways. On the one hand, you could end up benefitting short-term from the frustrated agitation those tags inspire, with Graves using your body to relieve an old, invisible hurt you never knew about. He will withdraw from you afterwords, though, too caught up in himself to really connect with. On the other, he could just withdraw immediately, recede from you, and the tension of that encounter will linger for days. It’s best not to involve his tags at all.

#simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #phillip graves x reader #call of duty imagine #mw2 x reader #call of duty headcanons #mw2 headcanons #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #alejo x reader #rudy x reader #valeria x reader #graves x reader #answered

[yup-thats-me]

—shaving cream • Izana.K

pairing : Kurokawa Izana x reader

summary : y/n helps Izana shave

Y/n’s giggles filled her and Izana’s shared room as her boyfriend nuzzled his face against hers. “’zana, babe, I’m serious stop!” she managed to say as she tried to catch her breath. “Your beard’s growing back. It's itching my face.”

“Oh yeah?” Izana questioned, touching his face. “You’re right... Maybe I should get a cut tomorrow.” Y/n hummed at his words. The room fell silent again as Y/n’s hand ran through his platinum hair, a content smile on her face.

“Should I give you a shave, baby?” y/n asked her boyfriend who shot up at her words. “You can?” the surprise was evident in his voice.

Y/n let out a small giggle. “Of course I can.” Izana was quiet for a moment maybe contemplating the offer when finally, he said “Okay,” got up from their bed carried Y/n, and set her down on the bathroom counter.

Y/n sat there happily on the counter, swinging her legs as Izana arranged all the things required — the blade, a towel, and shaving cream. Izana wetted the shaving brush and handed the brush and shaving cream to the girl who gleefully accepted and began lathering her boyfriend’s face, humming happily.

“You look so happy, hmm?” Izana smiled, caressing her hair. “And why shouldn’t I be? It's been a fantasy of mine that I’ll shave my boyfriend’s face, just like this.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling in a childlike innocence.

“And I get the honor to fulfill my girl’s fantasy? I’m truly the luckiest man alive.”

Y/n did not answer this time as she carefully set the blade, she held the tool before his face and spoke in a somewhat stern voice. “Hmm. Now be quiet, and don’t move. I don’t wanna cut your pretty face.”

Izana listened, keeping quiet all the while her blade ran through his face. It didn’t hurt at all. Honestly, Izana was ready to have a few cuts and band-aids on his face as this was the first time that y/n had helped him shave. He was ready to be bloody if that meant his girl was happy.

As Y/n cleaned his face with the towel, Izana asked another question. “Baby, do you mind if I ask where you learned to shave?” Y/n smiled, pinching his cheek.

“I’ve seen other men shaving their faces, ‘Zana. I observed them and learned. That’s all.”

While her answer was a simple one, Izana couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy hit his chest. With Y/n being as pretty as she is, it's given that she’s been in a relationship with other men. But the bond the two shared in the present, was so close. Izana often thought they were already a married couple, nagging and bickering with each other like they’d been together for more than thirty years. Izana truly believed that the two were special, more than any other couple. Maybe that wasn’t true.

Seeing Izana grow quiet, Y/n caressed his face and brought the man back to reality. “You’re overthinking, aren’t you, ‘Zana?” She declared in a hushed tone. She pulled him against her for an embrace, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Those men, ‘Zana, were my older brother and father, dummy,” she said as her fingers played with his hair. Listening to her say those words, Izana let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry for being so childish and immature,” he mumbled against the crook of her neck, pulling her closer to him by the waist.

Y/n let out a small giggle. “It's okay, ‘Zana. I’m gonna assure you of us as many times as you need, my love.”

do not copy, steal or translate my work to any other site. all rights reserved to yup-thats-me on tumblr

#izana kurokawa #tokyo revengers #izana kurokawa x reader #izana kurokawa x y/n #izana kurokawa x you #izana kurokawa imagine #izana x reader #izana x y/n #izana x you #izana imagine #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers fanfic #tr x reader #tr x you #tr x y/n #tr fanfic #x reader #imagines #fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #x y/n #blurb #anime fanfic #fluff #one shot

[starlitsawamura]

◟♡ ˒ POPSTAR!READER x BODYGUARD!ATSUMU

content warnings : explicit — secret relationship, praise, reader is called pretty girl & good girl, and jealous atsumu. word count : 0.6k | nsfw content ahead, eighteen plus only!

You loved meeting your fans and receiving all their letters and gifts. It was lost on you how you’d come to live in a reality where so many looked up to and adored you. But you tried to give back as much as you could, in ways you felt it mattered.

But Atsumu, while you were chatting up a storm, had to watch when one of them put their arms around you and hugged you a little too intimately for his liking. He’d caught a couple of them trying to eye him discreetly; seeing if they could get away with putting their hands too close to certain areas of your body. But when they’d meet eyes with him, the piercing glare they got in return always made the fan retreat back into their shell.

You were blissfully unaware every time and Atsumu believed that needed to change. Sure, the two am rendezvouses you and he shared were probably the most well-kept secret in the world. Despite the random Twitter theories about the two of you that circulated every few months. And as a widely known star, he’d never jeopardise the privacy of that or your good name, by acting out in public. He was more professional than that. At least that’s what he had to silently repeat to himself every time a fan got brave. But sometimes he caught himself wanting to leave marks, just to make it clear you were no one’s but his.

“‘Tsumu they could catch us,” you were white-knuckled, gripping the bathroom sink.

His chest was pressed up against your back, hand between your legs. He slipped it into your panties, rubbing soft circles into your clit as he pressed kisses into your neck. His other hand was next to yours on the sink, keeping you caged against his body.

You were wet and Atsumu collected it on his fingers so they’d slide around without resistance. He ate up all your little whimpers.

“Let them.” He kept a steady pace and the wetter you got, the harder he became.

He knew he couldn’t fuck you in this bathroom, no matter how badly he wanted to. He’d just have to wait til you were back on the road. But for now, he was fine just touching you, leaving you a needy mess for later. Because he knew you’d be coming to him for help and no one else.

“F-fuck,” you whispered, melting into him as your limbs gave way. “What’s gotten into you?”

“They’ve always got their hands on you,” Atsumu whined against your neck. “But you’re mine.”

You were his and it was something that slipped your mind while you were working. You didn’t mean to forget, you were just so focused on keeping the secret so he stayed protected. Your job demanded a lot of you and privacy was a blessing. Keeping him to yourself was your way of keeping him safe. Atsumu knew that but it meant keeping affection for private spaces, which was hard for both of you.

He put more pressure on your clit and nibbled at your skin. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

You weren’t one to deny him and in seconds you were unraveling in his grasp. Breathless profanities spilled from your mouth as you gripped the sink for dear life. The strength drained from your limbs and Atsumu had to keep you upright. He sucked his fingers dry and then switched your positions, using the sink to support himself as he took on your weight.

He rubbed your back while you caught your breath, leaving soft kisses on your forehead.

“Good girl.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, softly slapping his chest.

Atsumu smirked, “I don’t see you cumming on anyone else’s fingers.”

“You cocky fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He tilted your chin up and kissed you. “But I have every right to be when it’s you, beautiful.”

author’s note : might make a bodyguard au series cause this has so many tasty scenarios that my brain is dying to write.

© starlitsawamura ! do not repost outside of tumblr. do not steal or translate my work. for the love of all things unholy, do not share my work on tiktok or wattpad.

#love potion. #.hq #.atsumumiya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #cw praise