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pricelessemotion · 11 months

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Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time.

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it.

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container.

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use.

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye.

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free.

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this.

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway.

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there.

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair.

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.”

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays.

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.”

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?”

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.”

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match.

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no?

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home.

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore.

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular.

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn.

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!”

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you.

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder.

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice.

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen.

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch.

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp.

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower.

You’re sinking.

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him.

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure.

Stay.

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.”

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach.

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines.

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?”

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door.

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains.

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.”

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house.

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you.

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—”

“Have to go?” He supplies.

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open.

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay.

You’re the one who is always leaving.

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds.

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side.

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one.

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone.

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there.

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you.

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up.

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors.

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction.

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks.

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces.

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom.

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away.

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning.

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away.

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him.

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears.

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t.

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.”

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his.

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting.

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out.

You understand the feeling.

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you.

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun.

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun.

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

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housecow · 3 months

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i have a lot of cute ideas

my feeder travels a lot—he’s lucky enough to have a job that can take him all over the world. his cow, however, cannot really follow.

i outgrew a regular plane seat sometime after 300lbs. we discovered that after a particularly fruitful trip to spain; although eating our way through each city racked up a lot of steps, the funnel sessions and late night snacking really did me in. neither of us were really surprised that my hips just didn’t quite fit. rather, i could tell it was all he could think about the entire way back. his hand on my soft thigh, slightly clenched and almost possessive… the way his eyes flickered to mine and there was this look.

our trips together became rarer but neither of us minded. as i’d grown, a lot of what we used to do together faded. i couldn’t keep up on the hikes, biking was out of the question, and even the long walks we enjoyed wound up split by breaks so i could catch my breath.

throughout it all, however, my feeder just grew more enthusiastic. he’d tell me he was so proud after we made it back to the hotel each night. his hands would massage my softened shoulders, he’d hold the shake to my lips, and he’d coo into my ear, “it’s okay, i won’t make you do this again,” “there’s a buffet tomorrow morning,” or, “you can really feel how fat we’ve made you now, right?”

i’d melt with whatever he said and he’d fill me up, every way i needed. funnels and shakes, expansive platters of pastries… him inside me, i’m so full and he’s telling me how good i’m doing for him, my belly touching the bed while he’s breeding me…

neither of us minded when we had to do things separately. he’d be off on a trip, sending me photos of the views and the food (“wish i could be feeding you these!”), and i’d return the gesture. belly pics, selfies of my fatass planted on the couch working on the last bit of the gallon of ice cream that was supposed to last the week, meal ideas and articles and excitement about all he’s getting to experience.

the best part, however, is when he’d get back. over the longer trips i’d have settled in a bit too much. nothing was overly dirty, of course, but the fridge was overstocked with takeout. i’d finished almost everything and move on to whatever was next, absentmindedly leaving behind remnants of everything i’d made my way through. the trash would be full of boxes and candy wrappers, vegetable skins and soda cans, too. and he'd be able to see what it all did to me.

i was bigger every time he came back. it wasn’t too obvious, maybe just a pound or two, but it was enough to excite him. he’d admire the way i had to focus and gather momentum to heave myself out of the car, how my belly hang hit my thighs just enough to make a sound when i tried to move quickly, and how he could always count on me to gorge myself while i missed him.

he never made a comment though. but every time before he left the pantry would be replenished—zebra cakes, brownies, chips, pasta, sauce, boxed mac n cheese, everything he could think of would be left there for me.

he once said, “i won’t let a moment pass where you can’t reach for something to eat,” and it was true. a candy bowl mysteriously appeared on the coffee table one day, each time i reached the bottom it’d be refilled. the mini fridge side table was “cute and functional,” he reasoned, as he showed me where the sodas and premade shakes were going. i’d thank him, a soft kiss and several grateful expressions, before admitting that i was relieved at having one less trip to the kitchen now when i was settled in.

and he’d just smile. enabling a cow like me is easy, he just has to set the food out. i know what to do.

#feedism.#feeder/feedee #feedee.#feedism writing #sorry i got weirdly passionate for a bit

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paladinncleric · 3 months

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Kitchen Capers.

Pairing(s): Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Summary: Jenna and R's attempt at 'cooking'

Warning(s): fluff

Words: 1k+

A/N: Not a big fan of this, but kinda enjoyed writing it. Hope you like it!

Request

"Babe." Jenna poked my cheek as I concentrated on beating my highest score on Flappy Bird.

"What?" I said giving her a quarter of my attention.

"Babe." She poked my cheek again.

"Whaaat?"

"Babeeeee" She said as she repeatedly poked my cheek.

I groaned as I stared at the 'Game Over' on my screen just a few points away from my top score. I looked at her sitting beside me on the couch giving me her best innocent smile as I glared at her.

"Now what exactly do you need me for, Your Highness?"

She climbed up on my lap, straddling me, as she squished my cheeks together causing me to look like a duck, she repeatedly pecked my squished-up lips as I sat there with my arms crossed, which I eventually melted into cause who could resist her kisses? Certainly not me.

"Stop being cute and tell me what you want." I said as I caressed both her thighs exposed from her shorts while she caressed my neck, still in my lap.

"I was thinking we could make pasta to take to my mom's tonight."

"Okay...that sounds easy enough?"

"It's not."

"It's not?"

"I was thinking of making it from scratch..." Said Jenna trailing off absentmindedly playing with my shirt.

"Oh like not the store-bought kind?" I asked and she nodded.

"Well...can you?"

See, after recently moving in together we realized neither of us are all that big into cooking, with me lacking the skill and Jenna's career keeping her away most of the time. So, I've taken up some cooking classes to at least be able to feed both of us. But it's only been like a week so my skills are nowhere near good enough, I don't wanna accidentally poison someone. That's why we've been striving off of takeouts and dinners in her parent's place every once in a while.

Which is also why we've been invited to her family's house tonight for dinner, and Jenna being Jenna was determined to show them that she's capable of living alone without their help.

"Of course I can, I've watched my mom make it a hundred times." She said as she looked at me with furrowed eyebrows.

I chuckled and said to her, "Babe I'm sure you're aware that there's a difference between watching someone make it and making it yourself."

She stared at me annoyed, "Obviously, but how hard can it be right? I'm pretty sure I know all the stuff that goes in there."

"Are you actually sure? Cause we can call your mom an-"

"No! I want to do it all by myself and without her help for once."

I sighed at her stubbornness and said with my eyes narrowed "If I die tonight because of your food, I'm haunting you for the rest of your life."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, baby." She said with a chuckle and a quick kiss to my cheek and got up from my lap already on her way to the kitchen.

I sighed as I fall back on the couch and I pulled out my phone again to try and beat my score for the 5th time, but as soon as I got comfortable Jenna's voice boomed through the house.

"GET YOUR ASS IN THE KITCHEN Y/L/N, I WON'T SAY IT TWICE."

I groaned as I got up and made my way to the kitchen with slumped shoulders and mumbled a quiet "Yes mom."

Jenna immediately turned towards me again and asked with a glare "What was that?" Making it clear she heard me.

"Nothing." I said avoiding eye contact with her.

"That's what I thought. Now, get to work." She said then went back to taking out all the ingredients, which I followed to do after dramatically groaning.

**********

"Uh babe are you sure we added the right things?" I said as I looked at her trying to massage the watery dough.

"I mean, yeah, I'm pretty sure." She said with furrowed eyebrows and flour covering almost every inch of her face. I chuckled as I took a towel and turned her face towards me as I gently cleaned her face. After I was done, I gave her a kiss on her nose as she smiled at me softly and I smiled back.

"Thanks." She whispered.

I caressed her cheek with my hands as I replied, "You're welcome, gorgeous." She kissed my chin then went back to her work.

I watched her struggle for 10 more minutes as I say, " Uh we can check google if you want?"

"No! Nope! I said I'm not taking any help tonight. I'll figure it out myself." Jenna's stubborn ass said.

I sighed as I leaned back against the counter knowing it's gonna take a while. I would try and help her normally, but in these situations I'm even worse than her.

I watched her for a while, now with an hour and a half till we need to leave. When finally, she groaned and pushed away from the dough. She turned around almost into tears. I open my arms for her as she stumbles into it, her holding the back my shirt as I rub her back while trying not to instinctually move away from the wet dough smearing on my shirt from her hands.

"I really thought *sniffle* I could do this."

"Hey it's ok babe, don't be sad. I can totally become the perfect housewife/trophy wife for you after I'm done with my course. I mean, c'mon, at that point I'll almost be a professional chef."

"Shut up." She said with a giggle as she backed away from the hug and wiped under her eyes with her dough hands as she froze.

I saw her analyzing everything with wide eyes, to my dough-covered shirt, to her dough covered clothes from vigorous stirring of the dough, to her face now filled with dough to her hair and the kitchen floor covered in flour. Then finally, her eyes landed on the clock above my head which read exactly an hour left to leave.

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she ran for the bathroom.

"Hey! I need to shower too!" I yelled after her.

"Join me!"

I smirked at that and was about to respond, when she said, "Without your unholy thoughts!"

I laughed to myself, as I quickly cleaned the floor and threw the dough away while trying not to touch it. After about 10 minutes I was done, as I stripped my clothes along the way to the bathroom and threw it on the floor of the laundry room.

I finally got in the shower, as I saw Jenna washing her hair butt naked. I smirked and went to slide my hands around her waist, when she abruptly turned around and said with narrowed eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

I threw my hands up in surrender as I exaggeratedly looked her up and down with a teasing smile on my face. She groaned and went back to showering as I joined her under the water.

**********

After showering, I wear some slightly baggy jeans with a button-up and my converse, while Jenna wears something similar too.

We both nod at each other with an approving smile, as we run towards the door with us already being 15 minutes late.

We enter their house with Nat standing and pointing at her watch at the entrance. We both sheepishly smile as I give her a quick hug and Jenna gives her a kiss on the cheek as we both move on to greet the rest of the family.

"So, how's everything going back home? Settling well?" Jenna's dad, Ed asked us after we all finally settled on the table for dinner.

"I'm sure they are, was probably too busy 'unpacking' to get here on time." Aliyah said while quoting 'unpacking' with her fingers.

I coughed as I picked up my glass to drink my water so I didn't have to reply, while Jenna subtly kicked her under the table. I saw Aliyah wince as I struggled to hold my chuckle in.

"Everything's going great Dad." Jenna clarified.

"Except." I said as Jenna's head snapped towards me as she threatened me with her eyes.

"Don't you dare."

"Her attempt at spaghetti ended up failing so bad, it was hard to distinguish the edible part."

Aliyah and her parents burst out laughing, Jenna glared at me and smacked my shoulder with her hand as I stuck my tongue out at her.

"You could have asked for my help mija.”

I saw Jenna’s shoulder slump and she pouted at the table.

“I know but I wanted to prove a point.” She grumbled as she shoved bread in her mouth.

“Yea you proved it very well.” Aliyah said sarcastically.

“I’m still proud of you for trying at least, God help me I don’t wanna step foot in a kitchen anytime soon.” I said exasperatedly.

“You ever plan on cooking?” Asked Aliyah.

“Of course but only when I have the assurance I can cook something decent and won’t burn the house down.”

“Take all the time you need, Y/N. At least in this way I get to see my daughter more often.” Said Ed taunting Jenna.

“Daaaaaad.” Whined Jenna

“What?” Said Ed laughing at his daughter as she sat pouting again.

“Okay that’s enough, let the poor girl eat.” Said Natalie as she shook her head smiling.

**********

I unlocked the door as Jenna stomped in and went straight to our room as I sighed at her child-like antics. How can a person be so poise and yet childish? Fuck if I know. I locked the door behind me as I approached our bedroom slowly dreading what I’d have to face. I get in the room to see her getting ready to wipe her makeup already in her sleeping clothes. I stood there staring at her through the reflection of the mirror. Her eyes caught mine as she raised her eyebrows at me as I squinted my eyes at her.

“Do you have something to say?” She asked.

“Uh no…do you?” I replied as I stared at her confused.

“No…?”

“Oh okay great!” I brightened up significantly as I thought she had forgiven me.

I happily walked to the bathroom. Did all the necessary things, emptied my stomach, changed clothes, brushed. I happily trudged back into my room to see Jenna taking up the whole bed and my pillow nowhere to be seen.

Uh oh.

“So uh dumb question but where’s my pillow?”

“Oh they’re on the couch.”

Well, shit.

“My I ask why…?”

She just stared at me blankly as she faced away from me. I sighed and groaned as I flopped on the bed, half on her and half on the bed.

“I’m sorryyyy, we just always joke about your culinary skills and I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“I told you I was trying to prove my independency to them, but you saying that proved the opposite.”

“Jen I’m pretty sure they know you’re independent, you literally travel country from country shooting films, most of the time alone.” I said as I looked at her quizzically.

“Well…yea but they were still reluctant with me moving in with you.” She countered back.

I laughed as I pull my head up to look at her and say “That’s because you’re their little girl and of course they’re gonna be sad and kinda worried about you moving out of their home for the first time.”

Jenna groaned as she put a pillow on top of her face and said “I knowww it’s just them being so, I don’t know, over-protective this way makes me feel like they don’t trust me with taking care of myself.”

“At the end of the day, they still let you right? focus on that. I think they let you ‘cause they know I’ll be here.” I said with a smug smile as Jenna rolled her eyes at the bullshit I just spewed.

“Also I think you’re parents think we’re like, some sort of, sex crazed people...oh my god is this why they were reluctant?” I said as I made a ‘mind blown’ face.

“No, of course not why would they think that?” Jenna said as she looked at me confused.

“Well with the way your mom makes sure we have weekly check-ups and your dad’s The, by the way very terrifying, ‘Talk’ he gave me I’m pretty sure they do.”

“Oh my god, shut up you’re being ridiculous.” Jenna said laughing as I smiled finally hearing it.

We laid there for a while, me half on her and half on the bed as she stroked my hair. After a while, she stops and says.

“I’m still mad at you though.”

“Oh please, woman you’re not fooling anyone.” I say as I get up to get my pillow back.

“Ugh you’re lucky you’re cute." She said and I responded with a 'duh' face.

"The lower half of my body is numb because of you asshole.” Jenna said as she wiggles her toes in my face as I stand in the doorway of our bedroom and smack her feet away.

“This is what it feels like being the bigger spoon most of the time, except it's the upper half, so now YOU deal with it.” I say as I quickly stick my tongue out and move out of the way as a pillow comes straight to the door. I stuck my head in again as I look at the pillow and her on the bed with deadpan eyes and say.

“Hahaha you miss-“ a pillow smacks against my face.

“Now go get your pillow and hurry up I’m tired.” Jenna said as she situated herself on the bed again.

“Yes ma’am.”

**********

“Does it actually feel bad to be the bigger spoon?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“But you just said.”

“I like it as long as you’re my little spoon.”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega fanfic #wlw post #fluff #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you

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astrophileous · 7 months

Note

DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

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loganshouseofworship · 13 days

Text

Pink tulips a symbol of friendship — Logan Sargent x platonic!reader

Tagged — @amatswimming @bblouifford @disneyprincemuke @faithshouseofchaos @faithsotherhouseofchaos

Logan knew that you were having a tough week and as one of your longest-standing friends, he took it upon himself to make you feel better. On the way to your apartment, Logan stopped by the store and picked up some of your favorite snacks, ice cream, and drinks and continued with his mission.

Halfway through his journey to your apartment, he made one stop it wasn’t planned but he saw the florist stand from the corner of his eye and thought fuck it.

Looking at the selection of flowers his eyes saw a pretty Bouquet of pink tulips. Logan remembered you saying that tulips were a symbol of friendship.

“I would like these,” Logan said, picking out the pink tulips and handing the florist the money.

“Great choice,” the florist said. And with that Logan was back on track.

Once at your place, Logan knocked firmly on your apartment door. Hearing your footsteps making their way down the stairs, he grew a smile and waited. Once the door opened he extended both hands with the bouquet in one and the takeout bag in the other.

“Hey, you.”

He smirked softly seeing you, hoping that maybe this would cheer you up at least a bit.

“Hi.” You said letting Logan in your apartment

"I brought you flowers," Logan said smiling

"for what?" You asked confused

"There has to be a reason?" Logan questioned.

“You didn't have to do this.” You said taking the flowers from him to admire them.

“I know I didn’t but I wanted to.” Logan replied, handing over the shopping bag “I also brought you some of your favorite food and drinks, and also grabbed an ice cream for myself.”

He had grabbed enough to feed both of you, he figured that after what you’ve been through, you didn’t deserve to eat alone.

“I figured a fun night would help, maybe watching a funny movie.” He said smiling, waiting for you to step aside so he could come in.

“The tulips were specially for you.” He laughed “I mean I don’t know who else these are for.” He chuckled again, “Besides I figured, I could just use them as an excuse to see you.” His smirk grew to a grin “Plus I figured you probably need some cheering up, I know I’ve been a while so no hard feelings if you tell me to leave.”

“No, of course not.” You replied, your face growing a warm smile at how thoughtful your best friend was.

“You’re truly something,” you said hugging him tightly

“I’ll grab some plates and stuff.” Logan replied, breaking the hug as he took it as a sign to start getting everything ready. “You just go ahead and sit down.”

He gave you a gentle push toward the table, you did as asked and then sat down.

Logan went over to the kitchen area, placing the plates and napkins on the table as he started setting up all the food. It looked quite extravagant, especially for just the two of you.

Once everything was done, he poured two glasses of the wine he had bought, before he sat down opposite you.

“To friends.” He looked at you as he brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. “To better days.”

The two of you had a wonderful night, a night that was full of laughter and banter. It had even helped lift the depressing mood you’d been in. A smile had been permanent on your face ever since the moment Logan walked through the door, with his thoughtful gifts. He truly was a good friend.

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queerpumpkinnn · 9 months

Note

is this how u request? anyways! i was wondering if u could do like a spencer reid w like a girl best friend, but like he has feelings for her

she does all these little things for him like bring him coffee and food and let him ramble and stuff

i was thinking of writing it myself but id love to see someone else’s take <3

This is typically how people send in requests (either via inbox or comments) so you're good! So sorry this took so long to write, my inspiration was down for a long time. I had so much fun writing this, thank you for sending it in!

Loverboy

1.6k words

Summary: Spencer's got a big fat crush on his best friend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bestfriend!reader

Warnings: Morgan makes a few innuendos, food/drink, feelings ew gross, sweet lovesick Spencer <3 as always, let me know if I missed something!

While reading, I recommend you listen to valentine's day - a Spotify playlist by me!

Everyone in the office that morning knew that it was far too early to be there. Spencer, more than most, relied heavily on the power of caffeine to get his day going. It was not uncommon for folks to be carrying around a mug even in the late hours of the night.

And as always you, like a gift from God, would always saunter through the meeting room door with two steaming cups of coffee and a weary smile.

Spencer adored you. Although everyone on the team had a place in his heart, you were always the one closest to him. You were the one who had taken the time to get to know him, who listened to anything he had to say and got to know him as more than a coworker, an agent, a "resident genius" like he was some kind of appliance.

It was rocky at first, no doubt. Spencer was not the most perceptive when it came to reading social cues (or giving them to others), so his stiff and awkward nature took a while to see past. Eventually, you managed to break down the walls of caution around him, and over the span of a few years the two of you became more accustomed to being around each other more than anyone else. Even though you spent practically days together at a time, the two of you found solace in each other's presence, often heading back to someone's apartment and ordering takeout to wind down after the case with a movie.

To Spencer's embarrassment and yours, it had become the group's joke to refer to you two as The Soulmates. The first time Morgan made the joke, Spencer's entire face went a deep shade of red and he couldn't look at anything other than his feet for the rest of the hour. Eventually the two of you became accustomed to the running joke, brushing it off with a sarcastic laugh and roll of the eyes.

To be fair, Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. The two of you were joined at the hip, but you were just friends. It saddened Spencer to think about it sometimes, really. But he was content with having you so close, to be able to work with you and come home with you. To get to bring each other coffee and let you rest your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep was a closeness he granted to few people, and so he was, for the most part, satisfied with having you as you did.

That morning was no different. The sun had just barely risen, and Spencer was stifling a yawn as sugar poured into his cup like water. This morning was odd- a thought had struck him in the car, a comment Prentiss had made saying you and him were like a married couple. Was that true? Spencer knew plenty of married people but he didn't see them in action very often.

Would you even want to marry him? No, Spencer thought. You were just his friend. Sure, you did all sorts of favors for him and hugged him, but that was surely just a mark of close friendship.

"Morning, pretty boy." Morgan came up beside him, bringing a mug down from the shelf.

"Morning." Spencer replied, sipping from his coffee.

"So have you proposed yet?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, replying with a "what?!" once he stopped spluttering that might have been a tad bit too incredulous.

"Jesus, Reid, I was kidding." Morgan held his hands up, but he still wore an amused grin.

""We're just friends, Morgan." Spencer said defensively, moving to prepare another cup.

"You're making her morning coffee right now, pretty boy. You know who does that?" Morgan gestured his mug in Spencer's direction. "Married couples."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and coworkers."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Reid." Morgan gave him a pat on the shoulder, sauntering back over to his desk with his free hand in his pocket.

Spencer heaved a relieved sigh, taking both cups over towards your desk. You beamed at him when the smell hit your nose.

"Well thank you, Spencer." You squeezed his wrist affectionately, and Spencer thought he might die. He turned his head to hide the stupid smile on his face, mumbling a "welcome", but the other direction didn't help him much. Morgan's desk shared a divider wall with yours, so the man in question simply raised his brow, a knowing smirk surely hidden behind his coffee cup.

Spencer rolled his eyes, turning back towards you. Your head was tilted in concern. "You alright, Spencer? You seem a bit jittery."

To strangers, Spencer might always seem jittery, like a nervous cat. But you could tell the difference.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm alright. Too much coffee, maybe."

Spencer nearly slapped himself when he realized his mug was still full. He prayed you didn't notice, tilting the rim so you couldn't see its contents.

"Alright kidlets, let's get this party started." Garcia called from the meeting room door, a stack of envelopes tucked under her arm.

You pushed off from your chair, nudging Spencer's shoulder. "Let's get this party started," you chuckled.

Spencer lightly touched his arm where you'd nudged him, watching you make your way across the office.

"Let's get this party started, Loverboy," Morgan, seemingly coming from nowhere, rubbed his shoulder against Spencer's dramatically, voice risen in pitch.

"Shut up!" Spencer pushed the man off of him, but couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

. . .

Four days later the team was right back where it started, making coffee and wrapping up paperwork- only this time there was a silent agreement that everyone wanted to get home.

Even in these low-energy moments Spencer still stayed by you, sitting with his legs folded on the large table nearest your desk, scribbling away.

His head perked up when he heard your chair wheeling over to him. "So, yours or mine?"

Spencer tried to ignore the way your arms folded over his knee to rest your chin atop them. "Uh- I was actually hoping yours?"

He definitely liked your place better than his. As much as he wanted to make it home, his apartment really was just a place for him to sleep at night and keep all of his stuff. Your apartment reminded him of you- but he wouldn't admit that that's the real reason he preferred your apartment to his.

You hummed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Spencer was actually in a mood for Indian cuisine, but when you suggested Chinese it suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.

Work passed by fast, something that could rarely be said about Spencer's job. He was just excited to be going home, he told himself, even though he was headed to yours after this.

Although Spencer had to admit, your apartment was practically his. You both had a few items belonging to the other that you always forgot to take back. Spencer even had a travel toothbrush that sat in the cup on your sink. He knew where all your dishes were, knew your DVD collection by heart. He never lingered at the doorway like he might do at a new friend's place, he kicked his shoes off and made himself at home, because really, he was.

Tonight was no different. Spencer was sprawled out on your couch, half-empty foam box of chow mein sitting on the coffee table, and you under his arm. When you'd made yourself comfortable next to him, Spencer felt butterflies in his stomach, he thought. It was a marvel to him, hearing a phrase like that so often but not knowing what it really meant until now.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and while Spencer was still engrossed in whatever film you'd picked out this time, you were fast asleep, head heavy on his chest.

Spencer glanced over at you, smiling softly to himself.

"You know, you're not making this any easier for me." Spencer whispered, stroking your arm. "I mean, I'm not complaining, you know, but it's kind of hard to suppress a crush when you're falling asleep on me."

Spencer knew you couldn't hear him, which is why he felt a breath of relief leave him when the words came out. He attempted, with slow and careful movements, to adjust you to sleep on the couch. Spencer thanked whatever god might be out there that you'd purchased a sleep-worthy couch- he knew, he'd tested it personally.

"Good night," Spencer murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline and giving you one last glance from the doorway.

Maybe someday.

. . .

It was mornings like these that tested Spencer's willpower.

It had not even been six hours since he'd left your home that he was being called in on another case. So here he was. Five days later, doing the exact same thing: making two cups of coffee.

But as always, you made it better.

"Spencer!"

He didn't have to turn to know who was calling him, but he did anyways, just to look at you. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I had a pretty nice pillow," you teased, and Spencer's ears turned red. "Hey, are you free Saturday?"

"Yeah, if Hotch doesn't call us in at the crack of dawn." Spencer snorts.

"Great. There's an art exhibit I wanted to see and it wouldn't be as boring if I went alone." You grinned, gratefully taking the mug he offered you.

"Can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday." Spencer agreed.

"It's a date then."

Spencer's eyes went as wide as saucers at your response, mouth falling open a little. You giggled at his reaction.

"C'mon, Hotch is waiting." You turned, not waiting for a reply.

Spencer shook his head as if to clear it, a stupid grin plastered across his face as he trailed behind you.

It's a date.

Spencer Reid Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert

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euaphoric · 11 months

Text

“you are legally obligated to keep holding me!”

it’s been raining and storming bricks outside all day so i went to distract myself, pop in some headphones and zone out while writing a comfort (and a little smutty) fic about jk soothing you during a thunderstorm! very much not proofread srry

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[6:02 pm] you’d spent the entire evening cuddling and watching movies at home with your boyfriend. it was one of those days where you just chill and be couch potatoes for the whole day; not very productive but is much needed after the busy week you both had. the sky was no longer a bright, pearl blue instead turning a dull grey and heavy sounds of raindrops pattering against the window sill made you realize how gloomy it’s become. it was such a beautiful day out earlier, regretting the fact you didn’t take advantage of it before it was too late. “i guess we’ll have to scrap going to that retro themed diner we wanted to check out..” he sadly announces, looking over at the dreary weather mother nature has presented. “there’s always next time babe, don’t worry about it!” you snuggle up to get closer with your back against his chest. “i know but i was actually really looking forward to go! there’s this cool action figure display they have right when you walk in and it’s like heaven for collectors like me.” he gushed like a fanboy, his little rants and raves about his interests always made you fall in love with him all over again. you appreciated when he talked about the things he was most passionate about, it made you feel closer to him than ever.

[6:54 pm] “you want me to cook or order takeout babe?” his voice brings you out of your trance. you haven’t noticed that you weren’t paying attention to the movie and instead daydreaming off into la la land. you can’t help but be fully head empty, no thoughts when you’re laying in jungkook’s arms. “hm… doesn’t matter, i’ll take both!” you can never just make up your mind. he sighs, knowing that he’ll have to decide for the both of you. as the rain grows heavier, the elements of the outside only seems to worsen by the minute. a blinding strike of lightning echoes with a flash, only to be seen once again in a few minutes. then your worst fear just so seems to show up, the menacing sounds of thunder. you’ve been petrified of thunder since you were a child, never really getting over the fear even through adulthood. some may find it silly but hopefully your boyfriend won’t judge you for it. you curled up into a ball, bringing your knees to your chin as jungkook still has his arms wrapped around you. “everything okay bun?” he could easily sense when you were upset by something, you had some insane couple telepathy going on. “yeah, why wouldn’t it?” you awkwardly pause for a bit, “i’m totally fin— AH!!!” you scream while flinching. another crash of thunder mixed with lightning almost induces a heart attack in you. “is my precious baby scared of the thunder?” he probes, not wanting to make you feel embarrassed for being frightened. you nod, feeling your hands shake from getting too anxious and overwhelmed, beginning to feel helpless in this moment. “don’t worry baby, you’re safe. i’m right here, i’ll go get you some water and be right ba-” he tries to release his grasp but you don’t let him. “NO,” you respond quickly, pulling him back without a second thought “you are legally obligated to keep holding me!” you claim, hoping he’ll take the bait and want to never leave your sight. “okay miss. y/n you got it, it’s only right i listen to the team captain’s orders correct?” “correct.”

[7:38 pm] an idea came to jungkook’s mind when thinking of ways to distract you, he knows it’s not the purest but he knew that it would take your mind off things in an instant. he kiss you tenderly, being gentle with every move he makes as if you are fragile like glass. his broad frame hovers over your body as he thrusts into you slowly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder while calling you his sweet baby and precious angel. his strokes were agonizingly slow, but when he slams his cock deeper in you by surprise you whimper and cry out a bit. his low groans and pants can be heard under his breath, even though he’s going slower than usual he already feels him at his breaking point. “ah— gonna cum y/n, fuck babe!” he roars almost as louder as the thunder from earlier. speaking of thunder, the rain has subsided now. his cock has done more than a good job at pacifying your frenzied state, turning you completely cock dumb for him. it only took a couple more deep strokes to your walls to get you on the brink of your release and have you in shambles. your body went limp soon as you came, feeling as though your soul left it’s body. he still kept his cock in you after cumming inside, reeling you in with a sensual kiss. soft moans fill both your mouths, the air smells of sweaty sex and apple cider candles. you know you wouldn’t have gotten through that frightening thunderstorm without him by your side, he finds it sweet you need his protecting. “you’re so damn cute, you know that?” he blurts, making you giggle against his chest. “not a second goes by where i don’t want to swallow you whole.” figuratively speaking, he’s already done that before many many times.

i feel like this ended weirdly but… we move. pls leave a like/comment/reblog if you liked it, it’ll make my day \(^_^)/

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x female reader #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #jk smut #jk x reader #jungkook drabbles

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gainingfiction · 6 months

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Heavily Used

Summary: This is a bit experimental (or weird), and maybe a bit predictable, but I had fun writing it. This is a story about an important relationship in a fat guy’s life, and the risk of taking things for granted. It’s also a story about coping (or not coping) with change.

Hope you enjoy!

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I can only handle so much. It’s one thing to be taken for granted, that’s something we all have to live with. It’s just the total lack of acknowledgment, or even awareness that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna snap and call it quits.

A little bit about me: I’m stylish, polished, and pretty easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself. Born in Poland, but my background is Swedish—I’m European, at heart. The name is Anders, but no one actually calls me that. I’m not super high-maintenance, once you figure me out, but everyone needs a little attention from time to time. Some tending.

Especially living with Max.

I’ve known Max for a while, and he’s not a bad guy. He can be a little rough sometimes, and maybe a little careless, but it doesn’t come from a bad place. I think it’s just a lack of self-awareness. And let’s be honest, that’s a common problem among pretty-boy jocks.

The trouble with Max is that he’s not the pretty-boy I once knew. He’s changed… he’s grown. I mean, he’s literally grown. Grown by about a hundred pounds, if I had to guess, and counting. Over the course of our time together, I’ve gotten pretty familiar with his ass, and I’ll admit, it’s a great one. But, boy, he’s got a lot more ass for me to handle these days.

It’s not insurmountable, not yet at least. But I’m worried it’s getting there.

It started out simply enough, the innocent midnight snacks and occasional takeout treats. No problem, right? Twunks can afford to indulge a little, especially a hot commodity like Max. But then, you get comfortable. You settle into a routine, you let yourself go. That’s the thing about creatures of beauty: one minute you’re the hottest guy in town, trim and toned, with a golden tan and handsome face and perfect, silky hair. The sort of guy who only seems to exist in a Hollywood version of reality. But then, inevitably, something happens. Sometimes tastes change, or maybe you’re the one doing the changing.

I won’t deny, I’m not in the same shape I was when I entered Max’s life for the first time. Any long-term relationship comes with the normal wear-and-tear. Max, though, has taken it to a whole new level.

The little snacks become big snacks. The extra meals go from “occasional” to “frequent” to “everyday”. Gluttony takes over. A 32-inch waist becomes a 36-inch waist becomes a 40-inch waist; size-small shirts are discarded in the back of the closet, soon joined by ill-fitting mediums, and then by larges, stretched out of shape by a gut that won’t stop getting bigger. Max used to flit around the apartment like a bird; now he lumbers like an elephant, heavy footfalls and a slow, waddling gait. His own warning system—you can hear him coming.

On paper, I know I should be trying to help lighten the load. And it’s not like I’m totally unappreciated; there are days when he comes home from work, legs tired and arms loaded down with takeout, and I can tell he’s genuinely happy to have me. But it doesn’t last long. Once dinner’s over, I’m back to being ignored while he sits on the couch, gorging himself in front of the TV, until he comes around again to stuff his face at the next meal. Which, to be fair, is pretty often these days.

It sounds cruel, the way I talk about his escalating weight, his increasingly-indecent greed. I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish he’d consider how it might affect me. I have to live with him, and he’s starting to cramp my style. But it’s not like I can say anything. I just have to sit there in silence, while he eats and eats, grows and grows, piling on pound after excess pound. And the way he eats, moaning and licking and slurping… it’s downright pornographic.

250 starts to feel like a lowball as the months go by. He’s pushing me to my limits without even realizing it. I’ve never had to deal with a guy this fat before, a guy whose big, round bubble butt would hang over the side of even the most substantial chair. And I, personally, am not “substantial”. I’m pretty thin; it’s just how I was made. I thought Max was made that way, too.

I start trying to make my frustration known, but like I said, I can’t just come right out and say something. So I try a little subtlety; a small groan every now and then when he throws himself down at the dinner table for another round of hedonism. If he notices, he doesn’t care. He just keeps upping the ante.

And upping just about everything else: his pants size, his portion sizes, the size of his monster-truck ass and thunder thighs. They press together whenever he sits down, now, lard against blubber. Not like in the old days when his legs were lithe and lean. His moobs bulge against every tank top, his pudgy arms pack his sleeves, his love handles blossom over the top of every waistband like ripening tropical fruit.

In occasional moments of self-pity, I hazard a guess: how much does my man weigh now? 275 pounds? 300? Is he even trying to do something about it? Clearly not. He never works out anymore, unless you count working up a sweat over a third (or fourth, or fifth) slice of cheesecake. I honestly wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me. Or test me. But I know that’s crazy—like I said, sometimes I truly doubt he even thinks about what it’s like for me.

But the problem is getting harder to ignore; he really throws his weight around these days. He heaves himself up off the couch. He rests a hand on the front of his bulging belly, barely restrained by some poor, threadbare top, back arching forward from the strain of it all (he’s not a tall guy, which makes his increasingly S-shaped silhouette even more pronounced). He trudges from the living room to the kitchen and drops himself in front of the table like an anvil. When he sits down, his ass, spilling out of some indecent pair of jean shorts, spreads out like lava blanketing some hapless Roman hamlet.

Some nights, I strain underneath him, feeling absolutely crushed by his sheer weight, boundless mass bearing down on me with the force of gravity. How big is he now? I wonder, as I listen to him moan and groan with pleasure. 325? 350? Could he really have gained over 200 pounds? How could he not realize what he’s doing to himself—what he’s doing to me?

He’s just so oblivious. I don’t even recognize him anymore. I’ve been starting to make noises about how uncomfortable I am, how much I’m struggling with his extra weight. But, as always, it falls on deaf ears. His tight little butt has become a pair of vast, ponderous globes, his abs and lats and obliques are encased in a spare tire that belongs on an 18-wheeler, his tits bulge out and dangle towards his armpits. And he just. Keeps. Going.

Keeps eating. Keeps gaining. Keeps expanding.

Things reach a boiling point before dinner one night. I can see him piling up the table, unboxing some outrageous quantity of food for his secret nightly mukbang. Well, secret except for the consequences, which anyone with eyes could notice. “There’s a man who likes his food” would be such a trite, vapid observation that it doesn’t even need saying. He doesn’t just “like” his food, he lives for his food. Food is practically a part of Max’s identity at this point.

He’s starting to lower his colossal ass to sit, and I can tell this is it. Tonight’s the night. Fuck it, I’m done. He’s well past 350 pounds, and that’s too much weight for me to handle.

Maybe he’ll appreciate me more when I’m not around. Hejdå, Max, it was nice knowing you! At least, it used to be.

Max sat on the floor, rolls of fat still wobbling from the jarring motion of his fall. His chair had been complaining for a while now—squeaking and groaning every time he sat down—but he hadn’t expected it to actually break. What a load of bullshit! He wasn’t even that fat!

He looked around at the splintered wood, soreness radiating across his ass—and not in a fun, post-fucking kind of way. At least his buttocks were nicely-padded. When he was bony, a slip on the ice hurt like all hell.

He was glad he was alone, or this would have been super embarrassing. At least no one was around to see him smash that chair like a pro-wrestler in a grudge match. He knew he’d been overdoing it, but this wasn’t his fault. How could it be, surely he wasn’t that big? Just a little out of shape, in need of a few good workouts to shed some winter weight. It was just the cheap IKEA furniture he bought.

With a grunt, he started the process of heaving his monumental form to a stand. As he started to gather his momentum, he glanced at the ruined seat and frowned. He actually liked that chair. It was pretty comfortable.

At least, it used to be.

(Author’s Note: don’t forget to rotate your dining chairs!)

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay #wg story #weight gain story #realistic gain #gaining fiction #belly #bhm #chub

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

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In Suspense (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey lovelies! Because I was indecisive and didn’t know what fic to post first, I let a Tumblr poll decide out of three, and this one was the winner! I admit, it’s a bit self-serving, but good gravy I love this man. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Matt’s riding a high from a good day in court, and you’ve had a crappy day—your only perk having been being able to work from home. When Matt finally gets to the loft and you catch a glimpse of a particular piece of attire, you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, established relationship, smut (oral—m and f receiving, needy and a bit rough, unprotected p in v sex, praise/Matt bring flirty and cocky, creampie), swearing/dirty talk

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,937

“Hey sweetheart,” you hear Matt call as he enters the loft.

“Matt!” you say surprised, putting your laptop on the table and moving over to meet him halfway. His glasses, briefcase, and cane have all been discarded by the door, and he begins to loosen his tie. “Court let out early?”

“Yep,” he smiles, placing his hands gently on your waist as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “It also helps that it was a Friday afternoon and that I caught the prosecutions’s star witness in a lie during cross, got a confession on the stand, and saved my client from a wrongful imprisonment.”

“Matt, that’s amazing!” you cheer, wrapping him in a big hug. There’s a wonderful, prideful glow about him, feeling a strong sense of pride for what he was able to do for his clients. You mirror his joy, feeling nothing but admiration and amazement for him and how he helps the people who really need it. You press a sweet kiss to his cheek before you lean back and look at him, running your fingers through his hair as you cradle the back of his head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I do like the challenge of one-upping myself.”

You give him another kiss before you run your hands down his arms.

“I’m gonna clock out early and I’ll run down the the little market a couple of blocks over and I’ll get what I need to make your favorite for dinner. Tonight, we’re celebrating.”

“I think we can achieve that same level of celebration with some takeout. Now it’s just a matter of deciding the kind of cuisine.”

“Well, now, that’s something for the man of honor to decide.”

“Personally, I don’t think we can ever go wrong with Thai.”

“Then Thai it is,” you beam. “Usual?”

“Usual.”

“Now that you’ve heard about my day, how was yours, sweetheart?”

“Not nearly as eventful as yours,” you sigh. “Long. Stressful. Not things Fridays should be.”

“I’m sorry, angel. But the day is almost done, I’m home, and no one can give feel-better cuddles like me. Actually, Foggy probably could.”

“He is a master snuggle bear. But I have my cuddle devil on call whenever I need him.”

“Damn right, you do,” he confirms with a long, sweet kiss and a quick smack to your butt before you both move toward the kitchen. As you walk, he takes off his suit jacket, and you stop mid-movement when you catch what’s underneath.

“Matty, are you wearing suspenders?” you ask, feeling a blush rush to your cheeks while you watch him roll up his sleeves to his elbows.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t suspenders more of a tuxedo piece of attire for you?”

Matt gives a little shrug and pout of his lips. “I just felt like mixing it up today.”

“Well,” you breathe, closing the space between Matt and you once more. “In the interest in mixing it up, I think we should continue with the theme.” Matt’s eyebrows arch in confusion and anticipation as that beautiful lopsided smirk graces his lips. Hooking your thumbs under the elastic, gently sliding them down the fabric and stopping at the middle of his pecs, barely an inch between your faces. “Dessert before dinner?”

The smile that curls on Matt’s lips and the mischievous glint in his eye speaks louder than words as he pulls you in for a panty-soaking kiss. You moan into his mouth and pull his body impossibly close to yours by the textured fabric of his suspenders.

“This really does something for you, huh?” Matt chuckles against your lips.

“Oh, yeah, Matty,” you hum, running your hands up and over his shoulders. “You have no idea what this does for me.”

Feeling the soft locks of his hair, you cup the back of his head and pull him back into you the short distance for another deep kiss, causing your bodies to fall onto the couch. With the solid flop on the couch making squeaky leather sounds, you both giggle into the kiss as you continue to embrace. As Matt’s hands cradle your face, he chases your lips, planting big, quick, open kisses on you that make your lips tingle. You move to unbutton his crisp white shirt, feeling his soft scarred skin underneath the soft cotton fabric.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you murmur into his mouth before he pulls back and sucks on your neck, marking you up for all to see.

“I guess I should wear suspenders more often,” he nips at your earlobe.

“Then we’d be doing this all the time.”

“I’m not opposed to that, angel—don’t put the idea in my head.”

You smile and giggle as you move in for more kisses, moaning as his hands glide up your body and his tongue explores your mouth.

“Mmm,” you whimper as you grind against him. His grip tightens on your hips, pushing the fabric of your shirt up on your skin. You pull your lips from his and suck marks into his neck, sucking at his earlobe occasionally. “Wanna suck you off. Wanna bounce on your cock, too.”

Matt slides his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts before running his fingers through your hair, holding you incredibly close as he kisses you, letting you sneak down between his legs, freeing him just enough from his pants and boxers where you can give him a few pumps and swallow him whole—the fact that he’s still relatively soft making the entire thing easier. Matt moans in delight as you drag your lips up and down his shaft, tracing the prominent vein in his cock with the tip of your tongue, further using it to your advantage as you lick the underside of the mushroom head before kissing the tip of his cock slowly, your lips wrapping around the hot, pink flesh.

Your time on your knees with Matt down your throat doesn’t last long, as he pulls you up and leans your body backward on the sofa so you’re completely at his mercy. He pulls his lips from yours and presses kisses down your neck and exposed collarbone before pulling your shirt off of your body.

“No bra, sweetheart?” he chuckles as his hands settle on your exposed ribcage, his thumbs brushing just under your breasts.

“No need—perks from working at home,” you smile as you run your hand through his hair.

“Works great for me,” he says with a lick of his lips, dipping his face down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth while his hand grabs at the other one. Your back arches as you moan loudly into the apartment, Matt sucking at your nipple and licking at the supple flesh. You feel him roll your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, getting it nice and pebbled before putting his mouth on it, mimicking the motion with the other nipple.

“Fuck, sweetheart, your tits are so perfect,” he pants as he kisses you right above your racing heart. Taking your breasts in his large hands, he pushes your breasts together, burying his face right into them and moaning into the skin.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fu . . . Ooh. Matty, eat me out. Please, Matty, need your mouth on me.”

Matt kisses your neck again before pulling off, making quick work of your pants. You lean up, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the living room before he guides you back down and spreads your legs wide, grazing his hands over your aching core before sliding two fingers into you, pumping them just so.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he coos. “Shit . . . So fucking wet f’me, too.”

Dipping down, he wraps his lips around your clit and you moan, arching your back and tossing your head to the side as he eats you out and stretches you wide.

“Matt!” you cry. “Matty! Fuck . . . Fuck, baby, I need your cock.”

“Thought you wanted my mouth?” he hums into your core.

“Matt, please! ‘M gonna cum. Wanna do it on your cock.”

He slowly pulls his fingers from you and kisses up your body. “Of course, baby. You’re such a good girl. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart, I’ll give you my cock.”

Completely ridding himself of his suspenders and slacks, the fabric blend joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. He pumps himself in one hand while he uses his other to adjust you on the couch, pinning you in a pocket of the cushions that creates the most comfort for the both of you. Tapping your pussy with his dick a few times, he gathers up the slick dripping from between your legs and slowly pushes all the way in, your moans harmonizing in the apartment as he moves to completely bottom out. His lips move against yours in a passionate kiss, the both of you doing your darnedest to chase your desires. As you go back and forth, Matt starts fast, shallow thrusts, hitting everything just right.

“Feel so good like this,” he breathes against your neck. “Perfect, angel. Made for me.”

“Right there!” you squeak as you try to hold onto his back, your nails scratching at his soft, scarred skin. “Right there, Matty! Just like that!”

The leather of the cushions squeak as the feet of the sofa scratch against the old hardwood of the loft with each of Matt’s thrusts. Your moans and cries of pleasure come out of you on their own volition as Matt ruts into you over and over. You hold onto him as you feel your orgasm build, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it when you finally feel your release wash over you. He holds onto you and gives you the support you need as you experience nothing but pleasure, his hips keeping a relatively steady pace as he cums inside of you shortly after you clench around his length, pushing the hot ropes of his release deep inside of you.

“Mm, congrats on your win, counselor,” you hum, completely blissed out as you kiss his forehead, temple, cheek, and finally his lips.

Matt gives you a happy-hazy smile as he kisses the expanse of skin from your shoulders up to your neck.

“Sorry you had a crappy day, angel,” he says with a kiss to your sweet spot.

“It’s been less crappy since you got home.” That’s when it hits you, and you can’t help but laugh. “Oops.”

“What?” Matt chuckles into your neck, pressing a kiss into one of the hickies he left on your skin.

“I didn’t clock out—I just had sex and got paid.”

“Like a prostitute?” he offers, only making the pair of you laugh harder.

“Oh my—not funny!”

“Objection—it’s hilarious. Can you imagine?”

“Okay, sustained,” you laugh as you roll into him, resting your head on his muscly arm, the image he put in your head truly too ridiculous to not be funny.

“C’mon. Clock out so when this happens again later—.”

“‘Again later’?”

“Yeah. I’m still in a celebratory mood, and I’ve gotta make sure my girl forgets all about her crappy day.”

You hum in agreement as Matt kisses your forehead once more, adjusting you so you can get cozy on the couch together in his arms. Moving as little as you can from him, you grab your phone and clock out, kissing along the lines of a red angry scratches you left in his skin as he holds you close, making sure you both recharge for round after round tonight.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987

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mrsevans90 · 4 months

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 7

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: Smut and drama, mentions of Sy sustaining war injury-graphic, PTSD, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 6

Emma seemed to be in a much better mood after spending a few hours with the dogs in nature. We held hands throughout the hike and I felt myself falling for her even more as I saw how she carried herself after a stressful situation. She felt like sunshine, always smiling and bubbly, even though I know she was fearful and anxious after what happened. We headed to the local Home Depot and after placing Mills in the buggy, and leashing Aika, we got to work looking for security cameras and video doorbells. Emma called and made an appointment to have a security system installed in her home next week, and I ended up getting a few things I might need when working on her sink later too. Emma just about had a fit when I tried to pay for everything and said she wouldn’t allow me to install anything if I paid for it so I conceded. Stubborn woman. We headed back to her house and I felt her anxiety increase when it came into the distance; like she was worried that he was going to be there waiting on her or would pop out of the bushes.

“I’m going to try and clear out the garage of moving boxes so that I can start parking inside there. That way, nobody can tell if I’m home or not.” She said and I nodded.

“If you want to wait, I can help you after I install the cameras.”

“No, I’m so grateful that you’re doing that. It’s mainly just boxes of things that I didn’t need immediately. Decorations that I didn’t have time to go through, some winter clothes I knew I wouldn’t need anytime soon. I sort of just shoved them there when I moved and have been parking outside but this will be better anyway.” She told me.

Once we got inside, I decided to get to work. Emma started working in the garage while I installed four cameras around the outside of her house and then a doorbell camera so she could see who was on her doorstep even when she wasn’t home. It was quick install and I was done in just over two hours, before heading inside to work on the sink. Emma called and ordered us Chinese takeout and was packaging up some cookies she baked in her kitchen when I made it back inside. I stole a cookie from the pan and Emma pulled a crumb from my beard and ate it.

“Delicious. Mind if I see your phone so I can set up the surveillance cameras and doorbells to it?” I ask her and she immediately hands me her phone. I get to work adding the apps needed and have her create a password so that they are protected. She was so open, telling me the password so I could plug it in even though it wasn’t smart for anyone to have her login credentials. “You protect me, not hurt me. I trust you to have it.” She replied when I told her she didn’t need to tell me. God, this woman.

“You know, I don’t expect you to fix my entire house.” She said as I was working on her sink. I decided to snake the sink with the tools I grabbed at the hardware store first to see if that would help and if it didn’t get better, I’d replace the pipes.

“I’m not fixing your entire house but I will if it needs it.”

“How much do you typically charge to do these type of handyman services?” She inquires.

“Nah ah, Sugar. Don’t even think about it. I’m doing this because I care about your safety and I want too.”

“I know and I’m so grateful, but I’d really feel better about it if I could pay you for doing this. It wouldn’t feel so much like charity.” She whispers. “Alright, how about after we eat supper tonight, you take me into that little bedroom of yours and shower with me?” I say with an eyebrow arched.

“Are you suggesting that I pay you in sexual favors like some sort of bad porn storyline?” She admonishes.

“Well now, when you say it like that I sound like a jackass.”

She giggles and walks closer to me. I inhale her floral scent and watch her bite her bottom lip. I feel the blood rushing to my cock as she looks up at me through her lashes with those ‘fuck me eyes’ and trails her fingertips down my chest and over my covered dick as she whispers seductively, “I’m fucking with you, Sy. I’d loved to pay you in sexual favors. I’d like to start by getting on my knees and tak”

DING DONG!

I groan loudly as she giggles and steps back looking at her phone.

“Looks like my new doorbell works well. Dinner is here.” She giggles as she turns and sways her hips seductively as she heads to the door. Little cock tease. I follow her quickly and wrap my arms around her to pull her ass directly on top of my hard cock. She moans as I hold her hips and slightly grind her body against mine.

“Ya gonna leave me hangin’ sugar?” I grunt in her ear and watch the goosebumps trail across her arms. Her nipples peak and harden under her sports bra and I gently tweak them with my fingertips which earns me a quiet mewl.

“I gotta get the dinner.” She breathily replies. Keeping her positioned in front of me with her ass directly against me, I unlock and open the door for the delivery kid. He looks at Emma with wide eyes and hands her the takeout bags and she confirms that his tip was added online. He thanks her and shuffles off back to his car.

“What about my tip? Where can I put that?” I ask in her ear and she giggles.

“Austin, you horn dog!” She playfully smacks my arm. “I think that poor kid was terrified.”

“Nah, he just saw a beautiful woman and got flustered. I did the same first time I saw you. Men aren’t the quickest thinkers when all of the blood leaves their head to rush to their other head.”

“You did not! You were so confident and cocky. You convinced me to give my personal cell phone number out and I’ve never done that!”

I wink at her before pulling her in for a gentle kiss. “Don’t tell me you regret it?” I murmur against her lips.

“Not even for a second.” She replies with a shy smile. That smile makes me want to forget dinner and take her to bed.

“I’m hungry, let’s eat.” She whispers and I close my eyes before smiling at her. I’d do anything she wanted me too. Fuck, I’m in too deep.

“I’ll make it up to you with dessert.” Emma says quietly with a kiss to my cheek. I have to adjust myself in my pants before I follow her to the kitchen. I let the dogs out in her backyard to use the restroom and then we settle down to dinner. Emma has gotten us beers from the fridge and we start making our plates.

After we eat, Emma wordlessly cleans up the takeout containers before grabbing my hand and tugging me toward her bedroom. Everything is clean, but with a lot more clothes laying out on the chairs and dresser.

“I wasn’t sure what to wear yesterday for our date. Too many options.” She admits slightly embarrassed. I hold up a little black dress and arch my eyebrow. “I wanna see you in this at some point.” I tell her and she nods with a grin.

She walks into the adjoining bathroom and turns the shower on. I watch her bite her lip before she removes her top and sports bra. Next, she slides her leggings and panties down and kicks out of them. She pulls her hair out of the ponytail before prowling towards me. Her little cold hands cause me to startle as she reaches under my shirt and slides it up my chest. Being so much taller than her, I have to help her pull it off of me. Without ever losing eye contact, she unbuttons my shorts and pulls them down with my boxers at the same time. She grabs my hand and tugs for me to join her in the shower. As soon as we step into the cubicle, I reach forward to adjust the water a bit cooler. Women and their hot showers. So much for that hot water heater having trouble. I have a feeling her unnaturally scorching showers are the cause of that problem. Before I can even say anything, Emma is down on her knees grabbing my throbbing member. She wraps her tiny little hands around me and licks the bead of precum on the slit while staring directly into my eyes.

“Fucking hell, Sugar.” I moan and she shoves my cock all the way into her mouth. Her tongue is sliding all over my dick and I immediately rest my fists on the tile wall just to steady myself. She pulls off and sucks my balls into her mouth and I have to force my eyes open so I don’t miss a single second. She pulls off of me and I look down at her, “Fuck my face, Captain.” Holy shit.

“I don’t want to hurt you, beautiful.” I tell her as I’m trying to keep myself from immediately cumming just from the view and her words while using my title.

“You won’t, I trust you.” She says before she puts me back into her mouth, places my hands on her head, and sits back almost submissively on her heels.

“Slap my thighs if you need me to stop.” I tell her and she nods while I’m still in her mouth. I gently hold onto her hair and start shallowly thrusting. Fuckkkkk her mouth is heaven.

Without meaning too, I get lost in the sensation and pick up the pace and my dick starts punching the back of her throat. She gags and tears start trickling from her eyes but she grabs my thighs when I try to remove myself.

“Darlin’, I’m hurting you.” She shakes her head no and forces herself to deepthroat my cock again. She gags and her throat constricts around the head of my cock and I involuntarily groan.

“Ah, baby, I’m gonna cum. Pull off.” I tell her so she won’t choke on it. She shakes her head no and doubles her efforts to please me. I know most women don’t like to swallow cum and even though she has before I don’t want to assume.

“I hope this is what you wanted, cus here I cum.” I choke out before I roar out a moan as my release starts spurting down her throat. Emma works me through my orgasm until I’m squirming back from the oversensitivity. My forehead and fist are resting on the cold tile above her as I try and recollect myself.

When Emma stands, I immediately wrap my hand gently around her throat and pull her into a passionate, heart stopping kiss. I taste myself on her tongue and am even more aroused that she took me so well. I know I’m pretty decently endowed and I can’t imagine that was an easy feat. I start kissing down Emma’s neck while she catches her breath.

“Fuck me, baby. Please, I can’t wait anymore.” She begs.

“Let me taste you, angel.” I tell her as I shove two fingers in her tight little hole.

“Ah! Later, I need your cock inside me right now, Captain.” If I wasn’t still hard, that’s all it would take to get me ready again. I quickly turn Emma around and bend her over against the tile. She shutters at the cold but moans loudly when I slide into her. Damn, she’s always so tight like a damn virgin.

“Mmm, this pussy is perfect. So tight and wet, molding to my cock like it was made for me.” I tell her. I know she loves my dirty talk. I grab onto her hips and start really slamming into her before reaching down and pressing my fingers against her little pearl. Emma is squeezing her perfect tits with one hand while the other helps hold her up as I repeatedly ram into her.

“Come on, Sugar. Coat my cock. Cum on your Captain’s cock. That's an order.” I grunt in her ear and moments later she releases. I have to take deep breaths in order to keep from cumming as she squeezes around me but I eventually turn her back over and lift her up. I push her back against the tile and her legs on my shoulders as I hold her up in the air and slide back inside of her.

“Ah, Austin!” She yells when I slide back into her. I still inside her.

“That’s not how you address your superior. Try again.” I grunt.

“Cap… CAPTAIN!” She screams and I slam into her.

“Much better, Sugar.”

“Oh, fuck Captain! You’re so big!” She whines.

“Yeah, baby, I’m all the way up in your belly. Look at you taking my fat cock so well. Gonna ruin you for anyone else.” I praise her.

“Mmmm. Ruin me, Cap.” She moans and I place my thumb right on her little button which detonates her second orgasm and I can’t resist this time and follow after her.

“Take my cum, baby, I’m going to fill you up with me.” I grunt as I coat her walls with my spend. Her body is like jello in my arms as she is exhausted from her orgasm. She doesn’t have a bench in here for me to sit her on so I just hold her and bury my face in her neck as we recover. Moments go by with nothing but our heavy breathing and the sound of the water pouring on our skin before she tries to disentangle her legs from my waist. I carefully pull out of her and stand her on her own two feet without letting go of her. She buries her face into my chest and I just wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on the crown of her head.

“How are we ever going to stop doing this?” I hear her whisper.

“Who says we gotta stop?” I ask aloud as I gently start massaging her shoulders.

“Nobody, I guess I just wonder if it’s the newness of us, or what. My poor vagina has never been so abused yet so happy all at once.” She moans as I rub her back and I chuckle at her response.

“I didn’t initiate this one, so that’s not on me.” I joke. “If you or that cute little cunt need a break, just tell me.”

“Mmmm, I don’t want a break.” She whines and kisses my chest.

“Let me clean ya up.” I tell her and start reaching for her body wash. I’m going to smell like a chick when I get done in here but I don’t give a damn. I lather up her body wash and wash her. She lets me wash and condition her hair and proceeds to then give me the same treatment even though I have a buzzcut. I joke that it’s not necessary but bite my tongue when she starts scratching my scalp with her nails.

“Mmm, that feels divine, Darlin’. You’ve found the way to my heart.” I tell her and she continues to scratch.

“Sy, could I ask you something personal?” Em asks me as she washes my body.

“I think you’ve earned the right since we’re about as personal as we can get.” I gesture towards our soapy, naked bodies pressed against each other.

“Tell me about how your last relationship ended.” She inquires.

“Already told you the gist of it. Got cheated on and got a Dear John letter while deployed. She moved on with the coworker that she swore to me was just a friend.” Emma shakes her head almost disconcertedly.

“How long ago was that?”

“Hmm.. Shit, I guess about eight or nine years ago.”

“Really, that long? There’s been nobody since?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly say that. Just nobody that I’ve actually dated. I didn’t date at all after, while still in the army because the last few years I spent deployed in a sandpit with a bunch of men. Since leaving the army, I guess I became content with finding comfort and stress relief through occasional one-night stands. It’s not something I advertise as I’m certainly not proud of it but it’s the only way I was able to be upfront with my intentions for a night of fun.” It’s just smarter to leave after the fact so that I don’t have to worry about my night terrors with a woman around. Nobody needs to witness that fear or see me being weak, I think to myself.

“Most of the women here that are single are young and looking to get hitched right away so they can start having babies. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, in fact I once had every intention of finding myself a woman and doing the same when I was young. At one point, I desperately wanted the wife and kids but I wasn’t willing to settle.” I don’t know if that’ll ever happen though, and I hate the thought of that. “After my mama died and I got cheated on for the second time while on deployment, I was in a pretty bad place. I thought fuck it. I’ll become a career army man and focus only on rising in the ranks and the fight in front of me. I remained laser focused on that initiative until I got injured during my last deployment. As I was recovering I realized how my grandparents were getting on up there in age. Mark moved to Tennessee for work and met Jenn and I just couldn’t stand the thought of them out here on the farm all alone without someone to call when they needed help. My grandparents did hire a few workhands around the farm but I didn’t want to leave them without family.” I also realized I couldn’t run from life anymore.

This was the first time I’ve really said it all out loud to anyone. I really want to say that it’s because I was scared to get hurt again, but I don’t want to seem weaker than I already am.

“May I ask about your injury?”

“Ah, just got shot in the leg. Tore up my knee and needed lots of physical therapy to be able to walk on it again. I technically could have re-enlisted, but I decided to retire. Wanted to be close to my grandparents if they needed me.” I notice myself downplaying my injury like I always do. Just a bullet to the leg is how I’ve always talked about it. Emma doesn’t need to know that the sniper put the bullet that hit me through one my friends’ head first, before it hit me in the leg. She doesn’t need to worry about how I would’ve likely been the sniper’s next target if he hadn’t already accidentally taken me down and out of his headshot. I don’t want her to know how that sniper that took out a third of my team the same day I got injured before a different division captured him. I still struggle with what the therapists coined ‘survivor’s guilt.’ It’s way to heavy to get into with a civilian, especially someone as kind and gentle as Emma. I don’t want the images in my head to ever taint someone as perfect and loving as her.

“Thank you for telling me.” She smiles up at me and I feel guilty for not really telling her the truth. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes how fucked up I really am.

“Let’s finish up.” I say to change the subject and we rinse off the soap that lingers on our skin before drying off with big fluffy towels that Emma has on the towel rack. Women really buy some luxurious shit, I think to myself as I wrap the extravagant towel around my waist. Guess I’m just used to living like a bachelor and haven’t been around a place with a female touch in a while.

“Want to stay here tonight or go back to yours? I still have my bag packed.” Emma asks.

I doubt I could sleep a wink here since I’m not used to the sounds and smells. My nightmares would either wake me up or I’d never be able to sleep at all.

“Would you mind if we went back to mine? I don’t have any clean clothes or dog food here.” I ask.

“That’s perfectly fine with me.” She replies. God, she’s so easy going. Most women aren’t as flexible. Emma’s flexible in more ways than one, I think to myself.

“Thanks, Sugar.” I walk up behind her and kiss her wet hair that she’s gently brushing through.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” I tell her as I wrap my arms around her towel covered body. Water droplets still dripping down her neck and disappearing into her cotton covered cleavage.

“I look like a wet rat,” she giggles, “but thank you. I feel the same way every time I look at you.” She turns and kisses me softly. “Just let me dry my hair and then we can go.” She tells me. I go and lay out across her big king-sized bed and chuckle. Emma’s so little, imagining her snuggled up in this big bed makes me smile. At least if I did have to stay here I’d be comfortable, even if sleep evades me.

Once Em dries her hair, she comes out to her bedroom still in just a towel. I’ve thrown my clothes that I was wearing earlier back on and am still sprawled out across her bed although now joined by the pups in the floor. Aika would be up on the bed in a heartbeat if she could still jump without injuring herself. Emma smiles at me and then goes to her dresser to find some clothes. Without seeming to be embarrassed or shy, she drops the towel and bends over to slide a bright red lace thong on. Goddamn this woman is ethereal. She quickly picks up a matching bra and slides that on. I have a perfect view of the front and the back of her gorgeous body thanks to a full length mirror she has by the bedroom door. I can’t decide which part of her body is my favorite and I’m staring at her like a teenage boy who just found his first playboy.

“See something you like?” Emma asks as she makes eye contact with me in the mirror and I growl in response.

“Mmm, there ain’t enough words to describe how much I like what I see.” I admit.

Without hesitation, she runs and jumps on top of me on the bed, straddling my lap. My hands immediately start roaming the soft skin of her body without me even telling them too.

“I really like the way you look all spread out and manly on my floral bedspread.” She giggles and I smirk at her.

“You love to tell me how manly I look.” I observe.

“Can you blame me? You’re so strong, muscular, and hairy. The way you looked when you stepped in front of Colin today made my panties wet. So protective and possessive and I loved every second. My big, strong bear.” She says with a kiss on my nose.

“Sounds like you have a size kink, my little Goldilocks.” I smirk and expect her to deny it.

“Oh, for you I absolutely do. You do too though, I know how much you love it when your big cock is rearranging my guts and you can see it all the way in my tummy.”

“You caught me. I love how tiny you are compared to me. And that naughty mouth.” She smiles.

“So we both have a size kink and like dirty talk. Sounds like we’re pretty good for each other. At least in bed.” She says with tinted cheeks.

“Like two halves of a whole, I reckon’”. She beams at me.

“Now, let me put some clothes on and take me to your home. It’s been a long day and I wanna snuggle with you before I fall asleep.” She requests.

“Sugar, I’ll give ya whatever you want.” I bite my lip as she climbs off of me in that little red set and quietly sigh when it gets covered up with shorts and a tank top.

We lock up her house and head back to mine. She brought a bag of snacks as well as some clean clothes and her toiletry bag. When we get there, she puts her snacks in the kitchen and goes to let the dogs outside while I change clothes. I shoot Walt a text thanking him for getting to Emma’s place so quickly and helping me out. I tell him I’ll by him a beer or two next week if he wants to meet up. Emma comes back inside all high pitched and baby talking to both of the dogs who seem absolutely enraptured by her. Looks like I’m not the only one wrapped around her finger.

Part 8

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