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hannahssimblr · 3 months

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Chapter Twenty-Three (Part 2)

“Evie,” Jude is there, “Evie, c’mere, what is it?” I fall into his chest and cry. “What is it? You’re so upset.”

“They’re leaving,” I say indignantly, because isn’t it obvious? “They’re going as far away as a person can possibly go, and they’re the only constant thing I’ve had for years. I can’t handle it. I’m not handling it like a normal person would.”

“You are, it’s okay. People go away sometimes, but they’ll come back, you know they’ll be back.”

“Yeah, in years. When Shane ages out of football, which could be more than a decade,” I grab hold of him and he’s steady and solid in all the right places, warm through the thin cotton of his shirt. “I mostly hate that I’m upset. I’m so dramatic, I’m making this about me when I should just be normal and understanding and know that this is what they wanted, and this is right for them and this country has nothing for them, just like it has nothing for anybody.”

“You are being normal. It’s normal to be sad when somebody leaves.”

“I’m scared that I’ll have nobody, that I’ll be all on my own.”

He tilts my face to him, “But you aren’t on your own, I’ll be here, we have each other.”

My lip quivers again, “But you’re going back to Berlin tomorrow.”

“Only for a month, Evie.”

“But what if you go and you remember how exciting it is and how much you want to be there, and realise that Ireland is boring and wrong for you, and then you go to a club and meet some gorgeous, svelte girl whose legs go all the way up to her armpits, and she might actually let you take her knickers off, and then you’ll forget all about me and-”

“Oh come on, that’s not going to happen. I’d never. I can’t even imagine that happening, are you serious? Of course I’m coming back, I’ll just go over and finish my studio work, I’ll wrap up my projects and I’ll come home, and I promise,” he kisses both of my teary lids, “that I’ll call you every day, actually, you’ll probably be really sick of me calling, and then I’ll come home, and I’m yours for as long as you want me to be.”

“But then what?” I insist, because with this mood I’m in nothing really seems good enough, “You’ll just live in Clontarf and be your sister’s guardian and get some sad job to fill the time?”

He frowns, “Well, no, I’ll find work that’s related to my degree, preferably, and then when you’ve finished college next year you and I can move to London together, and we’ll both work our dream jobs and it’ll be fine.”

“You’ve thought about that kind of thing?”

“Yes, do you think I’m a man without a plan? We’ll have a year in Dublin, which is fine, because actually, Jen needs me around too, you know, she’ll need as much help as she can get during her recovery, so I’ll be there, and I’ll get to be with you too, and you won’t be alone, and then, well, we’ll just move to London and that’ll be the end of it.”

“Sounds good to me,” I sniffle, “Imagine we had a really cute flat together, and we were so trendy and artsy with loads of interesting friends, and we spent all of our free time going to shows and galleries and all sorts of cool events.”

“Yeah,” He says, and his happiness must be contagious, because I suddenly begin to feel a new lightness spread through me, “That’s what I want, Evie. I want all of that with you, like, I’ll do anything at all as long as you want to do it with me.”

I grab the front of his shirt and shake him threateningly, “So you better not leave me.”

He rolls his eyes, “God, Evie, no I’m not going to leave. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Except for Berlin for a month.”

“Yes except for that but that’s nothing. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Of course I will,” I laugh, “I’ll be sad every day.”

“Yeah me too, I already miss you just thinking about it.”

“What are you going to miss about me?” I say, feeling a little self indulgent, but I skipped dessert at the restaurant so I think I deserve something nice.

“Well, I would say I’m going to miss how interesting all of my conversations with you are, or how much you make me laugh, but seeing as we’re going to be speaking every day, I suppose I won’t really get a chance to miss those things.”

“So?”

“So I’ll miss all of the superficial things instead, like how you always smell good, and your soft skin and your gorgeous hair, and a whole lot of other things that I wouldn’t be caught dead saying out loud,”

“Like what?” I press, “Like how you’re obsessed with my mouth?”

He huffs out a laugh, “Yes, that, obviously, and your green eyes and the sounds you make when I kiss your neck, and your body…”

“Hm,” I say idly, “I never thought you noticed things like that.”

“What, your body? That’s been in tiny bikinis this whole week?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t think you were looking.”

He smirks, “Obviously, Evie, I’m always secretly looking. I just never want to make you feel, like, observed or objectified or something.”

“What if I want you to make me feel like that sometimes?”

His eyebrow quirks up, “Look, it’s not that I don’t think about you in that way, it’s just that I know you have boundaries, you’re a little reserved, maybe even, I dunno, a bit fragile. I don’t want to freak you out, or to be the one that accidentally breaks you.”

I think about that for a minute, this naivety that I exude, as though I’m something small and delicate that could be easily marred and find it interesting that Dean had seen these things in me too only he’d wanted to exploit them instead. I stare up at Jude and try my best to conjure up something confident, bold, fearless, hoping that he can feel it radiating from me. “What would you do if you weren’t afraid you’d break me?”

He chuckles and straightens up, as though he thinks it’s a silly question, but I tug on his collar, “What, have you never thought about it?”

“There’s no place we’ve been where I haven’t thought about it, Evie, and I mean going back years, like, the things I’ve pictured doing to you… Even sometimes when I’ve been with other people I’ve thought about you.”

I feel like the bottom has dropped out of my stomach. The way he says that has done something to me, the ease at which he can so casually speak the sorts of thoughts that would make me shrink in on myself if I even dared to have them.

“Why don’t we just make those things reality, then?” I say, and I try to keep my voice steady despite the distinct undercurrent of nervous wobble, and it feels right, because the moon is full and Aphrodite’s rock is glowing under its light and it’s one last perfect night before I have to deal with the things that make me sad and go home to a Dublin that won’t feel the same as the one that I left.

“You really want that?”

“Yeah, do you?”

“God, yes-” He says, and he hardly finishes the words before he kisses me with a ferocity that makes me realise all of the other times he’s only been holding back for my sake, or perhaps for his own. This kiss wipes every thought from my head, and all there is is taste and scent and touch as he holds my head captive and presses his body against mine. I thread my hands around his neck and stand on my toes to kiss him back, losing myself in it, the taste of salt from my own tears and the clean scent of him, all of it culminating in overwhelming sensation that consumes my body until I’m practically clawing at him. As his tongue touches against mine I feel as though my legs might buckle from under me, surprised by how little control I seem to have over my own body and the sounds I am making. It has never been like this before.

“I want this off,” I mew, working at the little buttons on the front of his shirt to reveal a slice of his toned, bronzed chest, skin that absorbed the Mediterranean sun with such ease and turned him the colour of cinnamon.

“Wouldn’t you rather come to bed with me?” He says with huskiness around the edges of his voice.

“But here,” I say, “Isn’t it romantic? On this beach in the birthplace of Aphrodite?” I blink up at him and emphasise, “The goddess of love?”

He smirks, “But we don’t have anything to lie on.”

“So?”

“Well I don’t think you’ll like it without having a blanket down. I’m enjoying how eager you are but I think you’ll be happier on a bed in a nice house where there isn’t going to be sand going into places you can’t even imagine.”

The mental image is enough to make me shudder, but still I huff with annoyance, “I feel like you’re ruining the sexy vibe by saying we should go somewhere else.”

“We can do it here if you insist, I just don’t think you’ll like it as much as you think you will.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Maybe.”

I laugh as we turn away from the sea and begin to climb the little thorny dunes at the end of the beach to get back to the road. “In all of my fantasies about being with you, I always pictured you as being a bit more romantic,” I inform him, batting prickly growth away from my legs as it snags the end of my dress, “I think you’re a little bit too practical for my tastes, actually.”

He lets out a short, surprised laugh, “I think I’ve still bewitched you.”

“Hm.”

“I think you’re all romance, no practicality, whereas I’m mostly romance, and some practicality when it matters. See, look at it differently, my practicality in this situation has actually saved you from a really un-romantic situation, which is sex with sand in the mix, so isn’t that technically a romantic gesture?”

I sigh, lamenting as I glance over my shoulder at the glittering vista, “But the beautiful beach…”

“We have a whole summer ahead of us, Evie. I’ll make sure to bring a blanket next time.”

He hauls me onto the roadside just as my phone buzzes in my bag. “Hang on,” I yank it out to find a message with an attachment, “Oh it’s my mam, looks like that bloody article finally sent,” I unlock my phone and open the message, which loads slowly, but as soon as I see the headline I realise why she was so insistent upon my opinion of it.

TULLAMORE’S SHANE HEALY PRIMED FOR AFL SUCCESS WITH SYDNEY SWANS.

I remember all over again why I am sad.

“Evie,” Jude says gently, “Don’t dwell on it, don’t think about it tonight. That’s what tomorrow is for.”

“You’re right,” I sigh, “We should just enjoy our last night.”

His eyes are liquid pools in the moonlight and I’m instantly consumed by him as he tucks my hair behind my ear, “Forget it. Come home with me, come to bed with me and let me take care of you.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, “I will.”

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#lucky girl part 3 #tw: sex mention #lucky boy readers know why he won't do it on the beach lmao

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mayday-and-daydreams · 5 months

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( Day Eighteen )

{ Written on December 20, 2023 - 6:38 PM }

[ Nemo’s Headphones: Karma Police - Radiohead ]

(TW Suicidal Ideation n stuff, just be aware)

Sometimes

Every so often, it doesn’t really matter what I’m doing, but my eyebrow will hurt.

I reach up and rub my fingers over the scar there, from the eyebrow piercing I used to have.

The one I did myself.

I really liked the way it looked while it was there.

For once I actually smiled when I saw myself in the mirror.

Any pain was worth it for that brief moment of satisfaction when I saw someone I knew rather than a blurry face as my reflection.

Did you know piercings can reject out of stress?

I didn’t. I do now though.

I remember that when things got bad, all my piercings, even the ones I’ve had since I was nine from Claire’s, got infected again.

I wasn’t sure why.

I mean, looking back, I know why I didn’t understand, because getting worse was a slow descent down the hill, rather than an abrupt tumble off the cliff.

I didn’t notice when things turned gray because every day I woke up things were just grayer, and I stopped noticing anything was different until I saw in black and white and had to acknowledge that something was off.

I didn’t know piercings could reject out of stress until one day I just pulled it out of my face by accident.

I wanted to see if I could.

And I could.

There’s a scar there now, but you can only see it if you know what you’re looking for.

Can only feel it if you know where to touch.

It made me upset, then, and still does.

I couldn’t even get a cool scar out of this. That’s the least I could get.

No, all my scars are internal. All my pain is visible to nobody but me.

Hard to get somebody to believe you’re hurt when every wound you have is invisible.

But that’s just how it works I guess.

I wish I had scars, sometimes.

I wish I could bleed and hurt and ache like everyone else.

I wish I could show someone my wounds and once and for all prove to everyone, but mostly myself, that I’m not making this up.

It’s real. I’m hurt. Please help me.

God knows I need it.

Invisible Illness is killing me in more ways than one.

Sometimes I wonder what kind of future I have when I’m like this.

I got a job recently.

Two weeks ago tomorrow.

But it won’t ever be two weeks, will it?

I was doing well.

I was told so by my superiors, so I can only hope they weren’t lying to placate me or something.

I tried, I did.

It won’t ever be two weeks because I had to resign today.

I feel like such an asshole.

But I can’t.

I’ve been sick for nearly five days now with no sign of letting up.

Now, surely, getting sick isn’t a reason to quit your job, they’ll understand, and when you get better you can go back, right?

That would be the case if it were a cold, or flu, like everyone else has.

But I don’t know if what I have will ever go away.

I don’t know if I will ever recover.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not like everybody else.

I get so angry at myself that I can’t do what my friends do, can’t do what others my age do, can’t walk, can’t run, can’t get out of bed, can’t stand on my feet and work without being bedridden for days.

I get so angry that I’m not like everybody else. Because they can do it, why can’t I?

I’m just not everybody else.

Sometimes I wish I was dead.

I wonder what kind of future I can have here.

What kind of life I can look forward to when every goal and dream I had fades away as this stupid disability I have slowly gets worse.

I keep whispering to myself that things will be better when the doctors finally figure out what’s wrong with me, but I wonder if that’s really the case.

The others tell me that it’ll be okay, because when they find out what’s wrong with me they can fix me.

It feels sometimes, like I’m the only one who wonders if I even can be fixed.

Sometimes I wonder if I did something to deserve this.

If this is divine punishment of some sort.

Because what’s the alternative to that?

That I didn’t do anything?

That sometimes good people just have bad things happen to them and that’s the way of the world?

I don’t know if I want to believe that.

I want to believe I deserve this, somehow.

Because the alternative means that…

I didn’t deserve it, and this simply happened because…

I was just unlucky.

Sometimes I wish I was dead.

At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with this.

I want to scream and rip and tear and pull myself apart at the seams, if that’s what it takes to fix me, to find an answer, to understand just what exactly is causing this pain, this decay, this festering rot that plagues me from the inside.

I need to know.

Not knowing is killing me.

But at the same time, I don’t want to know.

What if it’s bad?

I am afraid.

I am so very afraid.

Sometimes I wish I was dead.

But sometimes I wish I was better.

I wish I never had to deal with this.

I wish things were better.

I don’t understand why that’s so much to ask for.

Sometimes I wish I was dead.

And that’s sad.

Sometimes I wish I was okay.

And somehow, that’s sadder.

#blogger #digital diary #poetry blog #vent blog #poetry #vent poetry #disabled poet #disabled poetry #disability #disabled vent

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tom-holland-parker · 3 years

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I Wanna Wear Your Tie

Request: Can you please do a professor tom x student reader, she’s of age of course, and he takes a liking to her for being so smart and he can barely contain himself with every outfit she wears. And one day after class he asks her to hang back and things get very SMUTTY?

Warning: 18 + SMUT (oral, choking, vaginal sex), student/teacher relationship, cursing, age gap (legal)

Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader

Word count: 4081

Masterlist

Tom knew from the first time you walked into class he was going to have a hard time. Not because you were a trouble maker, he heard from your other professors that you were an extremely bright and well rounded student, but because you liked to wear the shortest sundresses he’d ever seen. Tom knew he fucked up by developing a crush on his student. It was immoral and he could lose the job he worked so hard to get.

Tom had been staring at the email all weekend, debating all his choices. He knew the right thing to do was to report it and let the school handle everything, but a big part of him told himself to do otherwise.

Dear Professor Holland,

I want to wear your tie while you fuck me

Love Y/N

Tom let out a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes, refreshing his inbox once more in hopes you had sent another email, an explanation or maybe even an apology, anything that would avoid him having to send the response that he had drafted Friday night after he received your message. Of course as the hours passed he knew that hoping was pointless, Tom sighed looking over his drafted email for what seemed like the 100th time before hitting send.

Ms. Y/L/N

In regards to your last email I have no choice but to report it to the school. I do, however, acknowledge that you are one of my highest scoring students so it is only fair that I give you a chance to explain yourself. Please meet me in my office Monday after class

Professor Holland

Little did Tom know you were freaking out, spending Saturday nursing your hangover from partying Friday night. It was a drunken mistake, you would’ve never sent the email had you been sober but leave it to the vodka to let you do something stupid.

You had one day to come up with some apology and still couldn’t find the right words. Countless drafts saved in your notes app, but none good enough to express the regret you felt by sending that email. Of course time wasn’t on your side and the hours moved faster than usual. Finally it was Monday afternoon and you sat in your door waiting for your final class of the day, his class

“Maybe if you just tell him it was a mistake he’ll understand” Your roommate Kendra laughed as she looked at your computer, you’d been rereading the email for hours, hoping it would go away. Glancing at the clock you sighed, “I have his class in an hour, how am I going to face him”

“You could skip”

“I’m already in enough trouble as it is I can’t skip class” You sighed, closing the laptop as you moved to put on your shoes, “I’ll just give the best apology he’s ever heard of and hopefully it’ll all work out”

Kendra chuckled, “who knows maybe you’ll get exactly what you wanted”. You rolled your eyes, “I’ll text you after class”

///

Tom watched as you entered class, his eyes trailing over your outfit, you were wearing his favorite dress, white with blue flowers. He chuckled at your innocent appearance but frowned when he noticed you taking a seat in the back instead of your usual seat in the front.

You showed up to class right on time, looking at your feet to avoid any eye contact with Tom. It was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was that stupid email. It didn’t help that he was wearing a tie today, the same tie you’d imagine him gagging you with on most nights. You shook your head trying to focus on forming an apology that wasn’t absolutely pathetic

“Alright class is over, If you have any questions about the assignment you can” his gaze shifted towards you, “email me”

Your eyes widened as you distracted yourself by putting your things in your bag. As if the universe wanted to see you completely embarrass yourself in front of the teacher you’d been crushing on all semester, you piled out the class with the rest of the students, trudging down the hallway towards his office. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, pacing back and forth as you tried to compose yourself. You took a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you knocked on the door

“Come in” You heard his muffled voice from behind the door. You took a deep breath as you twisted the door knob walking into the well lit office.

“Hi Professor, you said you needed to see me” You say trying to seem innocent. He cleared his throat pointing to the leather seat in front of his desk, “Please have a seat”

Slowly you make your way to the seat, placing your bag on the floor as you stare at him. Tom took a deep breath, opening the email as he passed you his laptop, “When I get an email from my brightest student I expected a question about her latest essay not this”

Your face heated in embarrassment as you handed him the laptop, “Professor I’m so sorry I was very drunk Friday night and I know that isn’t an excuse but I didn’t mean to send that. If I could take it back I would just please don’t report this”

Tom watched as tears slowly began to trail down your face, “y/n I’m not going to report you”.

You looked at him in disbelief, “Seriously”

“but you’re not getting off that easily” He closed his laptop, “You’ll be spending the week and your weekend helping me grade papers”

You let out a sigh of relief, “thank you professor I’m really sorry it ever happened”

Tom chuckled, “You’re one of the smartest girls in my class. I would hate to see you get in trouble because of one drunk mistake” You wiped your tears away, feeling yourself relax now that you knew you weren’t going to be in too much trouble. “After all you’re only young once, just try to keep your thoughts in a diary and not your emails”

You chuckled, picking up your bag as you got up to leave, “will do professor”

///

Tom instantly regretted his decision. Don’t get him wrong, having the extra help was amazing but it was hard to concentrate when all you wore were short dresses. He spent all week sitting at his desk, too afraid to get up for fear that his body would betray him and you see the hard on he was trying desperately to get rid of. Seeing you in class was hard enough but when he watched you in what seemed like your natural element it changed something in him.

He watched as you sat on the couch in his office, your hair tied back and your glasses slowly sliding down your face, every once in a while you had to push them back in place. Tom couldn’t help but smile at the faces you made while reading the essays, a look of annoyance when you read over an obvious mistake or the way your eyebrows furrowed when you wrote the feedback. He tried his hardest to keep his laughter inside whenever you got distracted and drew little faces in the margins. He hated to admit it, it made him feel terrible, but he was a professor falling for his student

“Professor I’m not sure about this” You said getting up from the couch as you walked towards his desk. Your voice knocked him out of his trance as he watched you hand the paper to him, “See the evidence goes along with the topic sentence but the explanation is still choppy”

You watched as Tom took the paper from you, your breathing hitching when his hands grazed over yours. You shook your head reminding yourself that you were already here because your stupid feelings and if you kept letting yourself indulge in what was supposed to be your punishment you were going to end up in the deans office.

“I see what you mean,” Tom said looking over the paper, “just circle the paragraph and place it in the pile and I’ll look over it later.” He looked up, surprised to see how close you were to him, your chest inches away from his face. It was just his luck that you decided to wear a low cut dress today.

“Okay” You replied, taking the paper from him as you slowly moved back to the couch. Tom glanced at the clock noticing how late it was getting, “Well it’s getting late and you probably want to spend the you weekend somewhere way entertaining than here so you can leave, punishment over”

“Are you sure? I still owe you two more days and it doesn’t feel fair to end my punishment early” You said, grabbing another paper. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stay because it actually felt unfair or if you really just wanted an excuse to keep spending time with him.

“Well if you insist, '' he chuckled, a part of him happy that you weren’t eager to leave, “But we can finish this tomorrow afternoon, I’ll walk you out”

You gathered your things, meeting Tom at the door where he waited for you, his hand resting on your back as he guided you out the room, locking the door behind him. “It’s dark, I’ll walk you to your car, Where are you parked?” Tom said looking at the parked cars on the street

“I don’t drive” You said awkwardly, “But my dorm is only a few blocks away from here I don’t mind walking”

Tom shook his head, “No way I’m letting you walk, it's too dangerous, I’ll drive you.” You watched as he took his keys out his pocket unlocking the black BMW parked across the street.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way” you looked down on your feet, here you were again too flustered to even look at him. Tom chuckled at your nervousness, “Don’t worry about it. I insist on it.” Your breath hitched as he placed his hand on your back again, guiding you towards the car.

It only took a few minutes for him to get to your dorm building, “well here we are” He said, parking his car before looking at you. You glanced at him nervously, “Thanks Professor”

“Call me Tom” he chuckled, “But only when were alone”

You wanted to punch yourself for feeling butterflies but you couldn’t help it. “Well Tom” You laughed, calling him by his name felt weird, “thank you”

He watched as you moved to grab the door handle but froze, “Oh I forgot to ask you about your assignment”

“What’s up?” he shrugged. “Well I know you wanted us to write about how the author uses the women in his novel to display power but I can’t write about that. The author clearly doesn’t see the woman as symbols of power he sees them as sex objects, which is shown multiple times throughout the text so I can’t write about something that isn’t true”

“So you don’t believe sex is a form of power?” Tom questioned trying not to smile at the way your brows furrowed in concentration

“Of course I believe sex is a form of power but for the author to display women having sex as a symbol for powerful femininity the woman would have to own their sexual desires and wants”

Tom chuckled, “If you really feel so strongly about that then write about it, I’d love to hear more about what you have to say about owning your sexual desires. Seems to me you know a lot about that”

“Oh my god” You hide your face in your hands, “I didn’t even realize-”

“Don’t be embarrassed, if you can’t joke about it then you’ll let it eat you alive” Tom chuckled

“Well” you smiled, “I should probably get to writing”

“Yeah you should”

You both didn’t even noticed the way you both began to slowly lean into each other, the tension in the car growing thick

“Goodnight professor”

“It’s Tom” He said with a smile

You scrunch your nose, “Goodnight Tom”

Your faces were inches away from each other. He couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at your lips before looking back at your eyes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t do the same, “Goodnight y/n”

You both stayed silent, letting the tension take over. Your lips grazing over each other. The kiss was slow at first but it soon progressed into passionate open mouth kisses, both of you giving into your desires.

Your hands reached to grab his face, shocked at how soft his cheeks felt. “Wait wait wait” Tom said, pulling away slowly.

You caught your breath, wiping your lips as you moved back into your seat, “I should probably go”

Before Tom could say a word you were out the car rushing towards the dorm building. “Fuck” he said to himself as he leaned back into his seat. He knew he’d fucked up, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when he kissed you.

///

When you knocked on Tom’s office door the next day you were even more nervous than you were Monday. You were too embarrassed and instead of facing the problem head on you did what you did best, ignored it.

You spent the afternoon on the couch, headphones on as an excuse to block out Tom. If you had a question you didn’t ask it and when you had a comment you didn’t say it. It was pure torture for you and Tom, yet you both chose to ignore the elephant in the room.

As the hours passed and the sun began to set Tom’s patience was growing thin. He couldn’t pretend like the kiss never happened, and if he was being honest with himself he wanted more.

You sighed in frustration, as hard as you tried to concentrate on the papers in front of you, you just couldn’t. Thoughts about last night flooded your brain making it hard to concentrate on even the simplest sentences. You threw the paper on the couch, ripping your headphones off, “I’m sorry but this silence is killing me, can we just get this awkward conversation over with”

“Alright well” Tom stared at you, unsure what to say. Yes he felt wrong but he also didn’t care. He got a taste of you and now he wanted more, “I apologize for what happened, it was completely unprofessional on my part”

You cleared your throat trying to find the right response, “yeah, well, I'm sorry too, we were both in the wrong and it shouldn’t have happened and I’m really hoping we can just move past this”

“Yes I agree” Tom nodded his head, “So how are those papers coming along?”

You shrugged, sitting down in the exact leather chair you’d sat in on Monday, “There needs to be a study group or something, I mean if this is the writing skills of our future world leaders I’m honestly a little concerned”

Tom chuckled, his hands instinctively reaching for his tie, something you noticed he did subconsciously. Your heart skipped a beat as your stomach fluttered, “god get a grip girl” You thought as you blinked your lust filled thought away.

Tom smirked, noticing your reaction to the way you reacted to him, “Yes well not everyone has an easy time with writing as you do”. He touched his tie again, this time tugging on the knot a little.

Your breath hitched as your brain went foggy. A low chuckle leaving his mouth as you shook your head, “Well I’m not that great of a writer, I mean I have countless drafts that no one sees”

“Really?” Tom played with his tie, loving how much the simple habit affected you, “How many drafts did you make before you sent that email?”

Your eyes widening in surprise, “no drafts. Drunk me is the best writer”

Tom smiled, getting up from his seat as he moved to stand in front of you. You watched as he leaned against his desk. You bit your lip as you leaned back into the chair, enjoying the way that Tom seemed so much taller than you.

“You know you probably shouldn’t say that to your professor”

You smirked, “There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t say to my professor” You were playing with fire but the heat felt too good, it made you want to know what the burn felt like. “Fuck it, what’ve you got to lose” You thought to yourself as you smiled.

“Oh yeah?” Tom’s eyebrow raised in question as he leaned down towards you, his face only inches from you, “things like what?”

You smiled bringing your lips close to his ear, “Like how much I want you to fuck me”

The groan that left Tom had your thighs clenching together, “Yeah you definitely shouldn’t tell me that.” You chuckled as you leaned back in the seat, Tom’s eyes moved over your body like you were a work of art, “but then again as a teacher I probably shouldn’t want to fuck my student so badly”

Your lips parted in surprise as Tom smirked, his fingers gently trailing up your thigh. Your breath hitched in anticipation but a disappointed sigh left your mouth when his hand didn’t move past the hem of your short dress. “If this happens no one can know”

You nodded your head as his hand grabbed your chin, keeping your head in place and forcing you to look into his eyes, “Words darling”

“No one finds out” You gulped, your body frozen. You could feel yourself getting wet from the power he held over you. The feeling of his having control over you was intoxicating

“And you understand that I will never use this against you? You can leave right now and I will forget this ever happened and we can go right back to our normal professional student-teacher relationship”

“I understand professor” You nodded, wanting nothing more than for his hands to be all over you.

“Good girl” He smiled, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, “Now go sit on my desk and spread those legs”

You smiled, quickly doing as you were told. Tom chuckled, amused by your excitement. You watched as he got on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he places kisses up your thighs, occasionally leaving a mark that would stay for days to come. “You’re so wet, all this over a couple of kisses?” He teased

Before you could answer Tom moved your underwear aside, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. You moaned, your hand instinctively reaching for his hair. “I knew you would taste good,” He said, licking his lips. He ate you like you were his last meal, licking and slurping you like a starving man.

You’d never been more thankful that the school was empty on Saturdays, no one around to hear the moans that Tom was coaxing out of you. “Oh god” Your hips shamelessly bucking against his face as he pulled your legs onto his shoulder.

“Tom please” You whimpered as his tongue slowed down to a teasing pace. He groaned, his large hand slapping your thigh, “It’s professor.” His voice was demanding and powerful. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers stretched you, toes curling as he effortlessly found your g-spot. “Professor please I’m gonna cum”

“Cum for me baby” He moaned, “I want your cum all over my face”

His fingers moved faster as you reached your breaking point, loud moans leaving your mouth as your back arched. You could feel Tom smirking against your clit as your legs began to slightly shake.

“You sound so pretty when you cum” Tom said as he stood up, your cum making his face glisten in the last bits of light that came from the windows of the office. You couldn’t help yourself, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer as you licked your cum off his face.

“Someone’s eager” He joked as you kissed down his neck. “Hmm I can’t help it, you just look so sexy with my cum on your face. Plus I’ve been wanting this all semester so are you gonna give me what I want or am I gonna have to get it from someone else”

Tom’s jaw tightened as he grabbed your wrist, “Don’t be a brat or I’ll edge you all night and leave you with nothing”

You whimpered as Tom pulled you off the desk, “Now if I remember correctly,” you watched as he loosened his tie, “You wanted to wear this.” You nodded your head, watching as he took off the blue and white tie, taking a deep breath as he placed it around your neck.

“And as much as I love you in this dress, I think I’d prefer for you to be out of it” He smirked. You chuckled, turning around so he could unzip the dress, letting the fabric pool at your feet. Tom’s arms snaked around your body he pulled your back into his. His fingers playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling the sensitive area. You bit your lip, rubbing your ass against his hard on, your pussy desperate for more attention.

“Professor” You wined, “I want you”

“So needy baby” He chuckled against your skin as he kissed up your shoulder and neck, “Don’t worry, you’ve been a good girl I won’t tease you too much”

Your head rested against his shoulder as his hand twisted the tie, making it tighter around your throat, “Is this okay?” You nodded, wincing when his hand roughly slapped your ass, “Come on sweetheart you're smart enough to know that when I ask a question I expect an answer. Now use your words”

“Yes Professor” You said moaning as his hand gently rubbed the area he’d just hit. Tom quickly unbuckled his pants, pushing them down as he aligned himself with you. He teasingly rubbed the head of his cock on your clit, loving the low whimpers that escaped your mouth as your hips jolted up.

Tom’s grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down into the desk as he bottomed you out. You moaned loudly as he began to thrust into you, “This is what you wanted right? Your professor fucking you like a slut”

You gripped the desk, trying your best to keep your balance. Tom gripped the tie again, the fabric pulling your head back. “Faster please Professor” You begged as you moved your hips.

His hips sped up as his hand moved in front of you tracing figure eights on your clit. You became light headed from how tight the tie was but you couldn’t care less it all felt too good. “Sir Please It’s too much I’m gonna cum”

“Go on baby cum on my cock, give it to me” Tom sped up, becoming needier as he came closer to cumming. He pulled your body into his, fucking up into you as he kissed the harsh line where the tie met your skin. The sensation was too much for you as you came, your walls squeezing Tom, milking his cock of all his cum as he came shortly after you.

Your body went limp, leaning against the desk so you didn’t fall to the floor. Tom sighed, pulling out of you, groaning when he saw his cum leaking out your abused hole. “You did so good” Tom whispered as he kissed up your spine, “Such a good girl for me”

You slowly got up, turning around to face him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom smiled, picking you up and moving you to the couch, where you sat cuddled in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, still placing kisses all over your body

“I’m cold” You said, your head resting against his shoulder. He chuckled, quickly grabbing his jacket from his chair before returning to your tired body. You laid in his lap with his jacket wrapped around you, Tom’s hand running up and down your spine as he kissed your forehead.

You glanced at the clock, “it’s getting late”

Tom sighed, “let’s just stay like this for a little while, then we’ll get you dressed and I’ll drive you to your dorm”

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 3 years

Text

Our little love part 2 - mafia/yandere au Drabble {angst + fluff}

As always please let me know what you think, I am actually going to go to bed now my brain is angry with me for not sleeping.

It seemed the cycle was never ending, you fucking up and pissing them off, them punishing you by drowning you in their love, only letting you come up to breathe so you could swim in your own guilt and submit to them.

You wince as the victim to your latest fuck up gets another blow to his chest. Taehyung and Hobi held onto his arms as Jungkook and Jimin kick and punch the poor individual. You know not to speak, it’ll only make things worse. Temperament was a fickle thing in their lives, trust was everything, and you still had to build yours up again.

“Y/n help please,” Kai whimpers as you stood with your arms crossed looking away.

“Don’t fucking say her name,” Jungkook growled before punching your ex colleague in the face. You’re frowning, the need to beg them to stop was fighting for exit on the top of your tongue, but you bite it down and pray Kai doesn’t say another word. You know if you do as he asks they’d kill him. Your punishment was to watch silently.

Yoongi strolls up behind you, hands in his pockets before he rests his head on your shoulder, watching the display in front of you both.

“Nothing to say little love?” He whispers as your friend groans out in pain.

Please don’t kill him, you want to say, but you just shake your head in defeat. You want to believe they’re better than this, but the evidence of the contrary was never hidden from you. They showed you every side of them whether proud of it or not with bold eyes daring you to stop loving them, pushing your boundaries and morals waiting for you to snap. But the breaking point never came, you loved them, you shouldn’t and you knew it, but you did. You were completely and utterly theirs, yet still they treated you like you hadn’t seen the worst of them. Like you would run away the second you realised they were monsters, not that they would let you run far, only far enough to let you take a single breath before making you drown in them once again.

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, keeping an eye on your reactions. The asshole deserved it, not that they cared either way, he tried to take you away from them, that was enough.

Kai was your old partner before you took a very early retirement, what you didn’t know was that he continued the case you were working on before you left; the case of the seven men you now loved and the reason you quit said job. He had called you to meet up for old times sake and you, very naively in Yoongi’s mind, decided it was harmless. But if it was harmless why didn’t you say anything to the boys? You thought Kai didn’t know the reason you handed in your resignation, but he had been keeping an eye on you all before he realised you were the key to their downfall. He knew you harboured some feeling for him in the past and thought you’d reciprocate when he tried to flirt his way into getting his hands on the evidence you collected, he didnt know you burned it all. You lied to him and said you lost it, same difference anyway. This prompted plan b from him.

“Y/n they’re criminals,” he had said to you. “You’re a cop at heart you can’t love them.”

You floundered at his words when you realised he knew, and yet he still asked you to betray them.

“Kai I think I need to go...”

It was a mistake, you knew it then, but he followed you out onto the street and you hoped tonight the men you loved weren’t keeping an eye on you. Maybe naive was an understatement.

“Are they coercing you Y/n! Do they have something on you or are they threatening you?” He calls after you. “Because the Y/n I know would never love killers, what have they done to you?”

It was when he reached his hand out to grab your arm that your boyfriends decided to show themselves from the shadows. Which lead to the situation now, Kai beat up and bruised beyond recognition, and you forced to watch. He falls unconscious and they let him drop to the floor, you hate this side of them, it was cruel and cold but you’d never leave. They turn to face you now, their anger still present despite the last hour of releasing it onto your old partner. They don’t miss the way you’re shaking, the shallow breaths as you try and keep your tears to yourself. As much as you hate their violence, you hate their disappointment in you more.

——————————————————————————

You’re sitting in Joonie’s lap for what you call the debriefing of your punishment, this happened way too often in your opinion. You look down but he wasn’t having it today, tilting your head to look at him by your chin.

“Why did you get punished today little love?” He starts the same way as usual.

“I went out without telling you guys where I was going or who with,” you say while fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit.

“And?” Hobi sits across from you in a chair, legs straddling the back and an elbow rested on top with his fist holding up his face. Hobi was hardest to pacify, he was ruthless and unforgiving and while that didn’t extend to you, you still had a hard time with his stubborn anger.

“I met up with Kai, and I let him touch me,” you’ve done this too many times before to not know how it worked. Kai’s ‘touch’ obviously meant nothing to you but for them it was the worst crime anyone could commit against their little love.

You remember the time you nearly tripped in the park and a guy steadied you politely, but you still had to hold Jungkook back from throwing hands.

“Kookie would you rather I fell and hurt myself?” No he hadn’t wanted that so he grumbled in agreement still seething but you cooled it down. “Instead of hitting him maybe you should thank him,” it was a joke but it made the youngest scoff.

“Baby girl why can’t you just be good?” Namjoon’s sigh brings you back to the present. “Why do you always have to test us like this?”

You didn’t mean to, you want to say it but the words are stuck below the sob in your throat. You actually whimper as his tone, bottom lip wobbling pathetically. He hadn’t even told you off properly, but you already felt like a mess as he bathed you in his disappointment. That was the common consequence of your actions and you hated it, you couldn’t do anything right.

——————————————————————————

“Jin do you need help with the food?” You ask your eldest boyfriend politely, he was frowning and you thought it was because today’s meal was too much for him to handle alone, his tone of voice made you realise it was because of you.

“No, I’m alright,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks and you’re left gaping at him like a fish. Jin loved it when you cooked with him, it was your bonding time without the others, although Yoongi would join you from time to time. The others also tried but Jin wouldn’t let them anywhere near the kitchen, they hogged you enough anyway.

You feel your soul deflate, still standing there as he ignored you.

“Are you mad at me too?”

The way you said it made his heart twinge with guilt, but the others were right you wouldn’t learn and your first betrayal was still fresh on their minds. He sighs and you turn away, refusing to crying in front of them for the tenth time that day. What was wrong with you? Ever since that day where they found out who you really were you felt like you werent enough anymore, you tried so hard to make up for it all but you kept messing up. You weren’t like this before, but after seeing the hurt you put them through you were constantly on edge and second guessing yourself. You wish you could go back and stop them from ever finding out.

Jin hears the sniffle as you walk away and he can’t go through with it.

“Wait little love,” he calls for you. “I forgot to cut the onions, would you mind?”

You shake your head, you didn’t mind, but you didn’t trust your voice to answer for you. Youre grateful to Jin for giving you this task, it hides the fact you’re crying, but you know he doesn’t miss it.

——————————————————————————

Jimin and Taehyung were giving you narrowed stern gazes through dinner, it put you off your food which resulted in getting told off by Jin just after he branched out to you in the kitchen.

You felt alone, like the seven men you loved were against you and there was no one to blame but yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly before getting up and removing yourself from the dinner table and dining room, ignoring all of their stares. You decide maybe an early night is best, you could start again fresh tomorrow. You don’t get too far up the stairs before a hand pulls you back, you turn to see Jimin with Tae a few steps behind him.

You’re so used to seeing them laugh and play around that it feels like you’re looking at different people. Even during missions or gun fights, the youngest three were always joking their way through the bloodshed, keeping scores of who got the most headshots and other grotesque games. You remember the time Jimin and Tae called you during he middle of a shoot out, arguing with you and each other over who you loved more out of the two while you begged them to not get shot or killed.

“Why did you go see him Y/n?” Jimin asked, he wore the demeanour he used for enemies and it takes you back to that night.

“I... h-he said he wanted to see me to catch up,” you explain but you know it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“And you thought that was a good idea, to see your old cop buddy?” His tone makes you feel stupid, you weren’t stupid.

“He was my friend Jimin,” you say in disbelief, you know in the end it was a mistake but at the time it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“You’re ours,” Taehyung moved forward, towering over you even though he’s a step below you. His face is close to your own, eyes burning into yours as he looks disgusted at the words that left your mouth as if they’re still attached to you. “How do you think we felt when you went to see another detective? Do you have any idea what was going through our heads?”

“Tae I love you,” you lean away from him, searching his face for a hint of softness and love in his gaze, but there was only fire. “You know I wouldn’t, you all know I wouldn’t, I left that life for you why would I turn back to it?”

He stalks away from you without a word, Jimin close behind, giving you a final cold glance before leaving you alone. You thought your love could make them better but if anything you made their darkness worse.

——————————————————————————

Jungkook needed to vent, the only way he knew how was physically. Obviously it wasn’t the cleverest thing he’s done, taking rounds with the punching bag only to open up the cuts on his hand from beating the bastard earlier. He mutters a few curse words under his breath, why did you make matters worse? Maybe they were being harsh on you before today, finding any excuse to punish you a little, test your boundaries and see if you would run, but today they honestly feared that was what happened. They thought you chose to leave them and go back to the life you had before them, but they’d never let you go, they couldn’t let you go. Despite everything you loved them and they worshipped the ground you walked on. You were everything for them now, there’s be no point to any of them without you. Why didn’t you understand that?

He throws another punch to the bag, spreading his blood across them, it hurt like hell, but the thought of you running back to your old partner still played on all of their minds. He wanted to cry, he wanted to find you and beg you to never leave them, they’d be nothing without you.

There’s a knock on the door and he finds you on the other side, waiting for permission to come in. You never waited for permission, it makes him frown, maybe they were too harsh on you today. He could see you shuffling your weight, insecurity screaming through your eyes, you feared his rejection more than his anger.

He notices the first aid kit in your hand, you must’ve heard him. He doesn’t let the fluttering in his chest reach his face as he sits on the bench, waiting for you to come to him.

His gaze is expectant, daring you to cross the threshold and face him, you were no coward, you didn’t fear them the way others did, why were you behaving so meekly now? You force yourself to move and sit beside him, setting the kit down and pushing your hair back behind your ears. He doesn’t move his gaze away from you, even with the sweat and hair hanging in front of his face.

You carefully take a his hand into yours, sucking air between your teeth at how injured it was.

“I’m sorry you hurt yourself because of me,” you say, eyes on his bloodied knuckle as you press the ointment against the open wounds. “Are you sure you want me to stay, I keep hurting you...”

You try to sound like you’re joking, that you’re okay and the hurt isn’t weighing you down with your doubts. He frowns, they really did take it too far. He sets down the cotton wool from your grasp, taking both of hands into his before kissing each finger delicately without letting you look away.

“You’re perfect little love,” Jungkook says, reassuring you with no question in his voice. “We’re the ones who don’t deserve you, we’re mean and cruel but we’re never letting you go.”

You remember how loving they were before that night, maybe while they accepted the truth at face value they could never really forgive you in their hearts. Maybe that’s why they were being like this, they didn’t love you the same way anymore.

“Do you love me?” You had to know, the doubt was eating you alive.

He looks at you as if you’re insane, maybe you are, you don’t know anymore.

“Little love, don’t you see how much we love you?” He asks sincerely. “We would do anything for that love even if it made you hate us, you belong with us, and no one is going to take you away.”

You could see the crazed look in his face grow as he spoke, you believed him, the honestly worn like a heart on a sleeve. But his answer bought a wave clarity to your hazed vision, you made them like this, you made them worse, you had to leave.

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

#1 Fan [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.

A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff & Smut

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.9k

Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13

Masterlist

Read Part 2 Here

The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.

He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.

So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.

That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.

He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.

The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.

So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?

“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”

He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.

He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.

But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”

“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.

“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.

“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.

“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.

“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”

“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.

— —

He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.

She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.

She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:

I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x

He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.

He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.

He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.

“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.

“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.

“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?

“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.

When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.

“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.

“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.

“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.

“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.

“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.

“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.

“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.

“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.

“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.

“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.

“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.

“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.

They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.

— —

He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.

Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.

His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.

It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.

“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.

“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.

“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.

It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.

“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”

Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.

It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.

He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.

“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.

“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.

“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.

“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”

“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.

“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.

“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.

“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.

“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.

“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.

When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”

She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

-- --

Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x

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honeyhenry · 3 years

Text

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours”

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement.

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.”

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him.

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit.

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-”

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in denial, sexual tension all around the place

tagging: @tonystankschild

(other parts) (masterlist)

part 2/3:

And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.

“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”

(your late night instagram search history)

(00:38 AM) #literaturememes

(01:15 AM) @buckybrns

(01:30 AM) #newgirl

(01:50 AM) @buckybrns

(02:10 AM) @buckybrns

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.

And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.

He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.

He offers and you decline.

“We need to concentrate on the project.”

“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.

Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?

He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.

“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”

A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.

“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”

There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.

Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.

Example 1: Not valid anymore.

Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.

That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.

Example 2: Not valid anymore.

It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.

“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”

Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?

“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”

“I did?”

Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?

“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”

“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.

Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.

“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”

Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.

Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.

“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.

“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.

What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.

“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”

It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.

“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”

You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.

You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“You should go.”

And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.

your inbox, the next morning

(10:25 AM) from [email protected]

I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.

For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.

It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.

Yeah, he’s starting to notice.

And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.

(his late night instagram search history)

(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes

(01:30 AM) @y/n

(01:50 AM) #funnycats

(02:15 AM) @y/n

(03:45 AM) @y/n

You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.

The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.

They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.

“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.

What do you want Bucky?

Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.

Y/N, he almost says. Always.

“Vodka.”

He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.

“Your place is on the other side of the building.”

“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.

Why the hell did you follow him here?

Because sometimes you do stupid things.

Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.

“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”

“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”

He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.

“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”

“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”

His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.

“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #college au #bucky barnes imagine #au!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #alternate universe #alternate universe bucky #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #fools

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

FROM THIS LIST | Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face.

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk.

It’s a decade and a half later— as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least, to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly, searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand.

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice.

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors.

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even.

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital.

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin.

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?”

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped.

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #ILU Victoria!!!#also to anyone side eyeing the buy me a coffee plz do not judge me #i am so searing embarrassed about it #rip #just it's there i guess #calls;jalksdgjaeowifjsadlkgh #look away from me #!!!#lmfao #spilt ink

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justletmeplayminecraft · 3 years

Note

Etho hurt/comfort fic pretty please? 👉👈👀💚

some etho hurt/comfort coming right up!

featuring: etho has made smarter decisions than this, set in s7 during the end of season stat poker, sometimes your friends just have to tell you you're an idiot

warnings: injury caused by falling, broken rib, pushing self too far/ignoring injuries, some light drinking

It's a stupid misstep.

Etho's foot lands on empty air and the next thing he knows, he's falling. His hands struggle for his water bucket, the one he knows should be just there, but isn't. There's not enough time to twist, or to soften his landing. He barely gets his arms up to protect his head before he's slamming into the ground. The air is forced out of him with a crack that reverberates through his very bones. His next breath comes out as a low hiss, a few ticks passing as his brain tries to catch up with what just happened.

That's when the pain kicks in.

If Etho weren't already lying facedown in the dirt, he would be now.

Air feels forced into his body, stabbing through his chest and back. It's all he can do to groan, and that hurts too. His face pressed into his arms, fingers unconsciously pulling at his hair. His grip tightens with another gasp for air, struggling to take a full breath. He must've dealt with worse than this in the past, he's an experienced player! Being on Hermitcraft with all of its luxuries is making him soft.

Speaking of Hermitcraft.

He wants to groan when he realises he's supposed to meet the others for Stat Poker soon. Thankfully, he convinces himself not to, because as he's learnt: groaning hurts. Not that there's much that doesn't hurt right now. He should back out of the meet up. He doesn't even want to try standing right now, for crying out loud. But it was Tango, and Etho knows the guy needs the break. He can't just bail on him now. With a deep breath, Etho manages to haul onto his side. Every breath comes out as a quick and shallow puff, sending shooting pains through him. Trying to breathe in any deeper than a gasp gives him the urge to curl into a small ball and become one with the dirt.

But, he can't let Tango down. It'll be a good time hanging out together. He just needs to grab a health potion, and maybe tomorrow he can take it easy. Easy enough, anyway.

With a hissed breath, he finally gets his hands flat on the ground and pushes up. His nails dig into the dirt and he already knows it'll be a nightmare to clean out later. When he forces his eyes open, he finds he's managed to sit upright. Great. That's progress. He tries to sigh, but the breath cuts off into a hiss of pain he bites his tongue to bury. Alright, no groaning or sighing then. He can work with that.

Finding a stair block in his inventory, he throws it down to use as a support. His chest feels like it's trying to suffocate him, but he's able to push to his feet. He leans on the block to catch his breath. Health potion, then stat poker.

Pain flares through his chest as he stands upright, his eyes squeezing shut. He thinks he'll walk to the shopping district.

"Etho, sweet face!" Keralis's call greets him as Etho pushes the gate open. Etho smiles, trying to catch his breath from the walk over. It's hard when anything deeper than a shallow breath feels a bit like knives prickling into his lungs. The potion hasn't helped as much as he wanted it to, but he can make it through this. It's just hanging out with friends, what could go wrong?

"Hey, K." He nods his head in greeting. Tango and Bdubs turn at the sound of his voice. Tango is the first to bounce away from the bar, holding a glass out for him.

"Glad you could make it, dude! Take a seat, get comfortable. We're just getting snacks." Etho looks into the glass, swirling the deep red liquid. "It's just berry juice," Tango is quick to tell him. "Made specially for you. The rest of us, however-" He clinks his glass against Keralis's on the way back to the bar, throwing a wink Etho's way. Etho rolls his eyes, not wanting to risk the affectionate laugh in his throat. It looks like Bdubs and Keralis have already claimed the seats closest to the button. He lowers himself into a chair across the table carefully, not wanting to make a sudden drop. Once he's down safely, with only a minimal jolt of pain, he relaxes. He sinks back against the chair, tugging his mask down to take a sip of juice. It's fresh, fruity on his tongue. He smiles, forcing the pain out of his mind.

Bdubs strides over, a bowl held in his palm as he bows.

"Your snacks, wonderful patrons." Keralis near dives onto his seat so he can pick some of the honey-glazed nuts from the top. It's a close thing, but somehow Bdubs keeps the bowl steady.

"Keralis! Those are for all of us!" Tango calls, sitting beside Etho with a refilled glass and another bowl.

"I've only taken some!" Keralis protests. "Besides, I've gotta have lots now before Bubbles eats them all!"

"Will not!" Bdubs cries, hands on his hips. Etho snorts, regretting it immediately. At least his mask hides most of his grimace. They're too busy squabbling over the bowl to notice.

"Now, now, children. Let's save the fights for the actual game." Tango smirks as he unpockets his diamonds, holding them in the air. Etho can't help but smile at the dramatics, the way the evening sun glints through the blue. "Are we all ready?"

"Oh no, we're just sitting around this table for no reason," Bdubs says, before throwing his hands up. "Yes, of course we're ready!"

"Might wanna keep that anger in check 'til after you've lost all your diamonds, Bdubs." The words are difficult to get out, but Etho works his way through them. Keeping his voice around its usual talking volume doesn't hurt too bad.

"Oh, I hope you get none of them." Bdubs leans across the table, dark eyes meeting Etho's. Etho smirks.

"So you admit you'll lose them, then?" He teases. Bdubs huffs, sitting back with crossed arms.

"This is unfair. You're ganging up on me already."

Keralis laughs, "Well, you can press the button first. Does that make it fair?"

"Oh, more than fair! I like pressing buttons."

"You sure do," Tango mutters, disguising it with a sip of wine. Etho puffs out a breath, more punched than he intended. Ugh, why do they have to be so damn funny? This is making his job ten times harder. "Etho?" Tango calls, "You okay? Don't often see you making that face."

Etho tries an encouraging smile, crinkling his eyes above the mask, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a bit of a slip earlier." It's technically not a lie.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Bdubs asks.

"Yeah, sure. A hang out with friends has never hurt anyone, right?"

"On this server..." Keralis points out, looking between Bdubs and Tango.

"Hey, we're plenty safe!" Tango argues.

"No, no, I think Keralis has a point with this one," Etho shoots back. Bdubs huffs, slapping the first card face down on the table.

"Gentlemen!" He calls their attention. "Let's begin."

So far, Etho's lost a lot of diamonds. Adding in the light system was a stroke of genius that is ruining him. He leans on the table, watching Bdubs finish his second glass. Meanwhile, Etho's barely finished his first glass of juice. Tango holds the next card between his fingers before flipping it dramatically.

"Distance climbed," Etho reads, Tango repeating it soon after. As the discussion breaks out about what exactly that entails, Etho tries to consider his options. He knows his statistics aren't the highest on the server. He splits his time between worlds and that's to his detriment here. Though if he could use his stats from his single-player world... Oh, that would be great.

"Etho, you in?" Bdubs asks, focusing his attention back on the match. Etho looks at the pot. Ten diamonds. That's not too bad.

"I know I'm going to lose this one, but I am nicknamed 'Ladders', so I feel like I have to do it just to see..." His voice trails off as the breathlessness sets in, lungs aching with the strain of his small breaths. He might have to call it soon if this gets much worse, but he can keep going.

"Etho," Bdubs says, leaning across the table. "Out of all these years who has ever called you 'ladders'?"

Tango laughs, and Etho's about to reply when Tango hits his back. Etho doesn't hear Tango's words, too occupied by the feeling of every nerve in his chest setting aflame. He falls forward, with chesty coughs that only hurt more but he can't seem to stop. This is going to kill him. Every gasp feels like a desperate attempt to get oxygen, shivering in agony.

When he manages to blink his eyes open, he can make out blurry shapes moving around him. Something cool slides down his face, hitting his mask until it's pulled down. He makes a weak noise of protest. He doesn't think it's any different from his noises of pain. A hand cards through his hair, something pressed to his lips. He can taste the zing of a health potion and drinks as eagerly as he can.

With the help of the potion, he forces himself to take small breaths. It still hurts. It still hurts a lot. But at least now he can focus on the mortifying situation he's put himself in instead.

"Etho?" Bdubs' voice rings clear now. Etho holds up a shaky hand.

"Gimme- give a minute." He leans on the edge of the table, focusing on taking small breaths. He's not sure how long he's in that position for, until the pain subsides enough for him to dare move again.

"Etho? How are you feeling, sweetface?" Etho looks up to give Keralis a smile, realising his eyes are still filled with tears. He goes to dry his eyes, and Bdubs is quick to press a tissue into his hand.

"Thanks," he mutters. He can see Keralis properly now. Nice. "I'm- yeah. I'm okay now. Didn't think that would happen."

"Yeah," Etho doesn't need to turn to see Tango's disapproving look. "What was that, dude? You nearly keeled over in front of us!" Ugh, he nearly did, didn't he?

"Fell earlier," he murmurs, sticking to half-truths. "Must've landed harder than I thought."

"What hurts?" Bdubs asks. He's standing on his toes, ready to jump back into action. It gives Etho a little smile.

"My chest, mostly. Breathing's pretty hard."

Bdubs hums thoughtfully, "Think you can get back to your own base?" Etho blinks, looking at the half-finished game around them.

"But- the- We're not finished!"

"You're hurt, sweetface! We're not going to continue without you."

"Yeah, it's no fun playing if somebody is gonna cough their guts out." Tango moves his hand towards him before hesitating and thinking better of it. Etho is both thankful and longing for the touch.

"I made it over here," Etho concedes, "I should be fine to get back."

"Good!" Bdubs claps his hands. "Because I don't want to call Doc or Xisuma." Etho cringes at the thought.

"Oh, don't do that to me. I'd never live it down."

"X wouldn't let you leave your base," Tango replies, snickering.

"That's my nickname!"

"Have you seen Doc when he goes all mother hen?" Etho protests, quickly remembering to lower his voice. "And then he just bullies you afterwards!" Bdubs snorts

"I'm not calling him! You're fine, princess."

Bdubs pats Keralis's back, "We can both call Etho a princess, it's okay."

The trio insist on walking him home. He doesn't engage much in the conversation, too occupied with breathing and walking at the same time. At one point he ends up leaning on Keralis, because Bdubs is too short, and Tango too skinny. He smirks during the subsequent argument that plays out, closing his eyes and letting Keralis guide his movements. Before he knows it, they're approaching his base. Keralis doesn't let go of him until they've found his bedroom.

"There you go. One comfortable bed," Tango says, patting the covers. Keralis helps Etho sit down, Etho gritting his teeth whilst he gets situated.

"And no leaving it, sir!" Keralis says, back to his dramatic movements now Etho isn't attached to his side. "Bedrest for you."

"Ugh," Etho leans his head against the wall behind him. "That's no fun."

"I think you've had enough fun for today!" Tango decides. "I'm going to grab some potions, make sure you don't need to go anywhere." Etho nods, too tired to thank him. Keralis pets through Etho's hair, Bdubs lightly patting Etho's thigh.

"There you go, you big baby," Bdubs teases, his voice soft with affection. "Get some sleep. It'll be good for you." Etho forces an eye open.

"Isn't sleeping your job?" He whispers. Bdubs scoffs, shaking out Etho's pillows. Keralis, however, laughs loudly. His fingers move to scratching Etho's scalp. That is definitely pulling him to sleep. He has to fight back a yawn.

"Come on, down, down," Keralis encourages. With a bit of help, they settle him against the pillows. His jacket is eased off, head sinking into softness.

"He looks cosy," Tango comments as he returns. Etho hears glass clink as potion bottles are set down near his head.

"Shush, we're trying to make him go to sleep," Bdubs whispers. Etho smiles.

"I'm not sleepin' yet," he mumbles.

"You should be." Is Bdubs' reply. Etho shakes his head, pleased when Keralis's hand returns to petting it.

"We'll be here when you wake up," Keralis tells him.

"Yeah," Tango agrees. "We've just moved our hang out to your base now." Etho opens his eyes, watching as Tango pulls chairs over. Keralis is sitting on his bedside table, and smiles at him when he notices Etho looking.

"You heal up good now, okay? We want a nice and healthy Etho." Etho nods, closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, I'll give it a shot." He gets another scritch as a reward. It's not long until there's laughter as the three strike up a conversation about something inane. His chest still feels like he was kicked by a horse, but at least he's in good company.

Maybe getting injured was worth it, after all.

... Nah.

#hc #ask #anonymous #my writing #etho #tango #keralis #bdubs #injury #not completely happy with this one but its making it hard to work on other stuff so. here it is jkhfd

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citydreamgrls · 4 years

Text

yes, captain

fred weasley x fem!reader

words: 2,675

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on ‘a christmas treat’ it’s been crazy how many of you enjoyed it <333

warnings: smut , 18+

“What do you mean he’s sick?” The twins cried out in unison. I had heard voices before I’d reached the common room, but seeing them shocked wasn’t what I had been expecting. In fact it was a rarity to see them surprised at all.

“What’s up?” I asked them both, just as Lee was leaving. George had his head in his hands and Fred’s lip was blatantly chewed up.

“Wood’s sick, he’s off for 2 weeks.” He explained.

“Oh shit, that’s not good. So does that mean you two ar-”

“Co-captains.” They groaned in unison, used to having people follow them but not usually having to be in charge of anyone.

I put my arms around Fred, who was still in his quidditch uniform from practice, and gave him a much needed hug.

“You guys will be great, I’m sure of it.” I promised the twins, letting them clean up before dinner.

“So… how does it feel to have a boyfriend who’s the quidditch captain.” Hermione teased me, finding this to be more interesting than her book of all things.

“Fred’s co-captain, remember, and besides they only found out today.”

Harry came and sat in front of us with Ron as his side, who was more bothered by his food than his older brothers.

“I think they’ll be great captains,” Harry said, excited to have the troublemakers taking charge.

“Well of course you’d say that,” Hermione scoffed, opening her book again.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Ron looked up, clearing his throat as though to speak but the girl beside me cut him off before he had the chance.

“Harry’s the team’s seeker, he just has to do his job. That’s easy. It’s the chasers that cause trouble, they’re always squabbling over who goes where and how many goals each of them scores.”

“Yeah, what Hermione said.” Ron rolled his eyes and carried on eating.

“Guess we’ll see tomorrow afternoon eh?” Harry sighed.

“Do you think you guys will be ready for the match against Ravenclaw?” I asked.

“Hard to tell, we’ve got some time… but we’re out of a keeper now Wood’s off sick.” He huffed.

Just on cue both Fred and George turned up, looking as confident as ever as people congratulated them on their temporary promotion. Fred sat down beside me, giving me a kiss quickly before any of the others could complain.

“Ron, we need you to be our keeper.” George told his younger brother without hesitating.

Poor boy almost choked on a mouthful of potato when he realised what the twin had told him. Harry had to slap his back to get him to look alive again, making Hermione giggle from behind her book.

“Me!”

“Yes you, come to practice tomorrow and we’ll see if you’re any good.” Fred added, giving my hand a squeeze under the table.

“So I guess this means you’ll be too busy with captain duties,” I teased Fred as he tried to write an essay on the common room sofa.

“Oh yes, too busy for girlfriends. Especially when I have so many.”

I rolled my eyes and mindlessly played with his long hair.

“You don’t have the energy for too many girlfriends, me and George are enough for you.”

“You’re not wrong.”

He closed his potions book with a sigh and threw it to his feet, finally able to relax a little bit and lay with his head in my lap.

“Are you nervous Fred?”

“About what?”

“About being captain silly, you do have a practice tomorrow remember?”

“Oh no it slipped my mind, because I really have so much more going on right now.” He huffed sarcastically.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” I laughed and he nodded sheepishly. “It’ll be fine, I said I’d help Ginny with some homework tomorrow though so I can’t come and watch.”

“That’s actually a bit of a relief, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you.” Fred sighed.

“You’re the most confident person I know, not to mention the goofiest. When have you ever been worried about embarrassing yourself?” I pointed out, and he couldn’t help but agree.

The next day, after practice, the team filed into the common room kinda quietly. Making both Hermione and I frown at their sudden gloomy nature.

Fred and George were last and stopped at the two of us leaning up at them on the sofa.

“How was it?” I asked, still hopeful.

“Pretty bad,” George grunted before kicking off his boots and flopping into an armchair.

“Two of the chasers got into a fight and targeted each other any time we tried to play, it was useless!” Fred exclaimed as I played with his quidditch robes.

“Told you so.” Hermione hissed, but I just ignored her.

“They’re bound to be a bit unruly, it’s probably because they’re used to Wood.” I tried to reason with them, but neither twin seemed convinced by my theory. “It’ll get better.” I whispered to Fred.

It could’ve been possible that I cursed it, because things seemed to spiral from then on. Ron had doubts about being a keeper, Harry was always turning up to practices late and leaving early. The chasers refused to talk to one another, and things just took a turn for the worse when the twins started to argue over how to fix things.

It was 3 days before the match and the team was more divided than ever before. Making Fred feel responsible for the downfall.

“It was two weeks, that was it. And I couldn’t even control things for one day!” He complained aloud as I sat on his bed, hoping he would chill out a bit. I opened my arms, letting him crawl into them as if he was a child.

“I’m helpless y/n.” He huffed.

“No you’re not.” George walked in, saw his brother and immediately went to walk back out. They had been avoiding each other ever since their argument, and it was time for things to go back to normal.

“Oi stop right there.” Both boys froze as I spoke, I moved Fred off me and stood up. Not that it was intimidating to either of them, but it was worth a try. “You two need to forget whatever you were mad about and forgive each other, because nothing’s gonna go right if neither of you can agree.” I stated, their heads hung in the realisation that what I was saying was right.

“If we did things my way we could actually win.” Fred grumbled from his bed.

“I don’t care,” George seemed caught off guard that I wouldn’t immediately take my boyfriend’s side. “If you did win, it wouldn’t feel as good than if you did it together.”

“She’s right.” The boy by the door finally spoke up, holding a hand out to his brother. Fred shook it with an awkward smile. “Sorry Georgie.”

“Now. let’s figure out what to do with this team.” I sighed.

After a whole night of negotiating, Fred and George settled on a game plan and went to the last practice with hope in their hearts. Hermione and y/n watched them fly about from the stands, unable to hear the boys talk, but unable to spot any problems as they played through the upcoming match.

Once it was over Fred came straight over to y/n. He was grinning wider than she’d seen all month.

“Better?” She laughed.

“So much better.”

“I like seeing you happy,” The girl told her boyfriend later that night, promising not to keep him up too late. They needed to be awake early of course. Her and Fred were standing at the top of the astronomy tower looking over the grounds as the sun went down.

“Thank you for helping us,” He whispered. He loomed behind her and rested his arms on the balcony in front of her, caging her in.

“Yeah well you owe me, big time.”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll get a reward.” He smirked, making a chill run down her spine.

They’d had sex before, plenty of times, and many after winning games. But something more rested on this game, if he won there would be an even bigger feeling of achievement for the boy. Who was usually quite happy to take sidelines as one of the two beaters in the team. Now, he was a captain and it would look good if he won.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asked y/n.

“I shouldn’t distract you, rest is the only thing you need Fred.”

“It’s not what I want though,” She felt his body press up against her and she wondered whether getting fucked by him up there would be all that bad. However, she decided to wait, knowing it would be even better after they won.

“Fred. I’ll see you in the morning okay?” y/n smiled and slipped out from under his trap, giving his cheek a kiss and running off.

“Oi, that’s not a proper goodnight. Come back here!” He called out with laughter, a chase beginning on the twisting steps back down to the castle.

Hermione always claimed she couldn’t care less about quidditch, but as soon as she saw Ron as Gryffindor’s keeper she suddenly became yet another teenage girl screaming his name in support. Y/n laughed, seeing her friend switch up so quickly.

Then again, her voice always went hoarse after cheering on Fred and George so violently it sometimes felt like she’d never talk again. But she would never do it differently. Seeing the twins in their captain’s robes made her heart swell with pride, especially when Fred flew past their stand to give her a wink like he did before every game. It was practically tradition by this point.

“Go Fred!!!!” She screamed as he swung his bat around, sending bludgers flying through the air and towards Ravenclaw’s chasers. One of them almost fell to the ground trying to dodge it, and in turn losing possession of the quaffle to the Gryffindor chasers who had finally learnt to work together. They flew in formation, passing the ball between one another to throw off the other team. Then as one of them went to score, the other two held off opposing beaters so they could score.

To Hermione’s joy; Ron was amazing. He barely let a single goal in, kicking them off and thwacking them away with his broom. After a while he began to show off, but no one minded because he still managed to defend the goal.

Fred and George were working their asses off trying to hit off bludgers, not stopping for a single second to notice what else was going on. Y/n could watch her boyfriend work like that all day, his face laced with determination and joy whenever he hit one off successfully. Even more so whenever they scored another goal. Ravenclaw had never had a chance against them.

The match ended as always, with Harry just about catching the snitch before the other team’s seeker got there. He flew down to find the team hugging one another in joy, the rest of Gryffindor house racing from the stands to join the celebration. It wasn’t long before Fred and George were carried back to the common room, their names being chanted like gods.

Y/n caught a flash of her boyfriend’s red hair disappearing into the crowd as her and Hermione followed the flow of people into the castle.

“There you are!” Fred had called, finally finding y/n amongst the people partying later that night. “Thought you’d sacked me off.”

“As if, you’re the winning captain now I’m basically a celebrity by default!” She joked, taking the drink from his hand and sipping it hesitantly.

“Oi, what was that for?” He complained.

“I don’t trust my own drinks round you and George.”

“You’ve learnt then,”

“Yep, the hard way.” He smirked at my words and pulled me aside to talk quietly.

“Speaking of hard things, I’m on an absolute power high and really need you.” He said, never one to beat around the bush, well they’d done it once in a bush.

“Give me 10 minutes,” she told him.

“I’ll be waiting in the secret hallway, near potions?” y/n nodded and Fred disappeared off to wait for her, hoping no one would stop him on his way there.

Y/n went up to her dorm room, quickly knocking back a few shots before fixing her makeup and making her hair look less flat. Hermione saw her sneak through the common room and sent her a wink, making the girl blush as she slipped out into the main castle.

It was a Saturday night, and everyone would be gathered in their common rooms by now if there wasn’t already a party going on, so the castle was quiet as she walked through it. Footsteps sounded from somewhere in front of her. The girl slipped inside the transfiguration class, keeping the door just ajar to see filch walk past. Seconds past before she ran back out and straight to the secret passageway her and Fred had discovered a few months prior.

“Fred?” She called out quietly, not able to see him yet. He came out of the shadows with a smirk on his face and rested on the cold stone wall.

“Hello beautiful.” He said, as she took no time to jump on him. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, immediately enthralled in his kiss and the slight taste of licorice that seemed to constantly linger on his tongue.

“It’s been so- so hard not to just come f-fuck you right away,” She moaned admittedly between breaths, struggling to speak over the sheer lust coursing through her body.

Fred’s hands played across her neck, rough as always from the cold air, and travelled across her body. He didn’t dare waste time taking off clothes, and grabbed her waist to push her away. She gasped at the sudden lack of touch, but obeyed his every move as the boy laid himself down on the cold steps. Y/n knew what to do. Fred pulled out his cock as she took off her panties from beneath her skirt. She straddled his lap, letting him slip inside her.

In that moment, as their heads were involuntarily thrown back, both groaned out with immense pleasure. Y/n knew how cocky Fred would get after a quidditch win, this position being their own kind of celebration. But there was something different about the boy this time.

He was pounding harder, and deeper, and encouraging the girl’s sweet moans every time one slipped from between her beautiful lips. She could feel his grip, tighter than ever, leaving little finger sized bruises on her hips as she rocked back and forth.

The sheer size of his cock inside her made y/n tense up, Fred having no choice but to speed up.

She screamed, suddenly very appreciative of the passageways seclusion, her chest heaving as the girl had to take a second to adjust to the growing desire in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re close aren’t you?” Fred laughed, revelling in how good he was making her feel. Y/n could only nod in response, her lip tight in her teeth. The boy laughed again, but she could never feel nervous around him.

A hand came up to her neck, she felt it first before she saw it. He clenched the sides with his long fingers as y/n gasped out. He watched her moan lightly, almost begging incoherently as he got her closer and closer.

One last push with his hand made the girl scream, her pussy tighter than he’d ever felt it before. The boy struggled to hold back much longer, pushing her off so he could cum.

“Fuck,” Fred groaned.

“Please, promise me one thing.” Y/n asked, making her boyfriend frown.

“What?”

“Never let anyone else be captain again,” She gasped, still worn out from how ruthless he’d been with her.

#fred weasley #fred and goerge weasley #weasley twins #weasley #fred x y/n #fred x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #smut #weasley smut #weasley twins smut #fred smut #fred weasley smut #y/n #reader #quidditch #captain #daddy

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Note

hi, uhm can I maybe request a dom!Spencer x sub!reader where they had a pretty intense session the night before, nothing they haven't done before, but the reader goes deep into subdrop when Spencer is at work and hesitates to call him but does it anyways?

Hello! thank you so much for the request, i really enjoyed writing this baby up although, this concept will have different vers, one is the dirtier with obvious smut which is this one and the other one- which is full of fluffs should be uploaded tomorrow. Thank you again, Love, D.

Warnings : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, Daddy kink, Subdrop, subspace, DDLG undertones, all the characters are 21+ years old, Tiny bit of degradation, soft and rough sex at the same time, its just so cute yet fucking filthy.

MASTERLIST

when Y/N woke up this morning, she never thought she would get to the point of crying out of frustration and desperation. She woke up with an arm around her waist, warm breathing against the back of her neck, and a hard on that pressed against her bum.

She giggled then, feeling how her boyfriend grinds his hips against her in his sleep. Spencer was letting out grunts and groans, which you appreciate because that shows how much he wants you even in his sleep. Last night’s events tire the both of you to no end, it was your second anniversary and after a candlelit dinner underneath the stars, you both spent the rest of the night making love— or rather, fucking. hard. everywhere you could possibly think of.

Y/N and Spencer had recently moved into a new apartment together as an anniversary present for the both of them. Spencer called last night’s activities was a way for them to christened the place, laid their claim on it, which Y/N thought was silly but still giggled with him anyway. The sex was amazing, as always, Spencer was rough just as how she likes it, but something about last night was so good— so good that it almost becomes too much.

It was rather clear that their dynamics are always harmonious; most of the times Y/N is the submissive, and Spencer loves it. Last night showed how much control he has over her, starting by telling her to take off her panties at the restaurant and to place them on top of the desk before stuffing them inside his suit pocket, to fucking her against every available surface imaginable inside their apartment, resulting in a pretty intense sub drop from Y/N and a very concerned yet caring Spencer.

Reid knows just how much she could take it, and he had to admit that he was really pushing her limits, but she trusts her to always say her safe word if she ever feels like its too much. From the way her lips quivered, her thighs trembled, her body shook, and her voice high pitched calling him spew of, “daddy.. sir.. i love you, ‘m a good girl right?” whilst her eyes burning holes onto his own suggests just how deep she was inside her sub space.

So, they both did their usual after care routine, and Spencer managed to coaxed her out of the intense head space an hour later after reading her 3 different books. Y/N’s head was definitely clearer yet she still feels fuzzy and almost as if she was flying, deep down she knew that she was still inside that space—practically swimming in them but she refused it, knowing how tired Spencer must be from spoiling her that night, so she convinced him that she was back, she was a big girl.

And their night ended at that, with them wrapping their arms around each other and asleep, though one thing for sure was all that Y/N could think of are ways to please him, and to be good for him.

———

so when Spencer was practically grind himself against her backside, she immediately thought that she needed to please him— not that she minds, its just that it was so early, and her headspace becomes more fuzzy, almost blurring the lines of submission play and actual submission in life.

She turned around as Spencer woke up from his deep slumber, grunting a small “Baby” that instantly has her clenching her thighs, she leaned down to nip at his neck softly as her fingers move down to trail themselves all over his crotch, earning a pleased hum from the sleepy man beside her.

“Being such a good girl for me, it’s so early too.” He rasped, making you more needy than before, you lived off of the praises he gave you—always has even if you’re not in the headspace, she’s a sucker for compliments and praises especially from her wonderful boyfriend and daddy.

“Just for you.. daddy.”

He should’ve caught it then, the way she clings into him, the way she practically begged to have him in her mouth, the way she drools all over his cock, the way she cries as he fucked her nice and hard that morning, the way her eyes focused solely on his, the way her moans are all high pitched whines that sounded like a kitten, or the way she begged for him to leave bruising marks on her body— as a way to remind herself— and him, or everybody that dared to look at his beautiful baby that she’s his only.

He fucked her almost as hard as he did the night before, the adrenaline clearly still affects him in more ways than one. When they both cums, Y/N just trembled like a leaf inside his hold, her lips sucking on his thumb like it was her favorite pacifier— it actually is.

“Gonna be okay, little one?” The way he had asked sent her to an alerting state, she knew automatically that he needed to go to work, and in order for him to do his job, she’ll need to stay home and wait for him like a good girl, daddy’s good girl.

“Mhm! yes yeah!” Her voice was still super high pitched, which he seemed to take a notice but decided to let it pass because he heard his phone rang then and there, signaling that there might be a case. So he pressed a small kiss on her lips after he had cleaned them up and goes downstairs to pick up the phone leaving Y/N all alone, showered and fresh yet still way too fuzzy.

Her lips pouted, looking for an excuse to just huff at her boyfriend for being so busy on a friday morning, but she knew if she gets too clingy, he’ll be late— late means suspension— suspension means.. so many childish thoughts ran through her mind as she whined out loud before getting up, knuckling her eyes and head down to the kitchen to make the both of them breakfast.

——

As Y/N managed to plate the pancakes messily, Spencer hurriedly went to the bar sitting counter and smiled as he admired the sight in front of him, “You look so good, it’s a shame that we have a case..” He mumbled as he sipped on his coffee, clearly not noticing how Y/N stopped her movement altogether, as she trembled a bit before scolding herself inside.

“umm.. will it be uh a long one?” He could immediately tell from her distinct voice that there’s something wrong, with furrowed eyebrows, he stood up, rolled his sleeves and then hug her waist from behind to place an adoring kiss on top of her head.

“It’s local, don’t think it’ll be that long— are you going to be okay, princess?” He cooed,

Y/N desperately wanted to say No! no she won’t be okay cause she needs him to be her safe haven, she needs his love, affection and warmth— she needs her daddy. But the voices disturbed her from her needs, scolding her to not be clingy and annoying and that she would have to be a big girl today, so she took a sharp breath and tried to deepened her voice, “No, no at all honey. Just get back home as- um soon as you can..”

She cringed at the tone as it was as fake as it could get, and of course her boyfriend noticed it yet before he could make any comments, his phone rang again, and he sighed, “I promise as soon as we find the unsub, i’ll come home to you.” He smiled, pressing a hurried kiss on your lips, before grabbing a slice of pancake and ran out the door with a “love you!” as he closed it.

This is definitely going to be a long day.

After Spencer had left, and done munching your pancakes, you grabbed your phone then hurried upstairs to bury your face on his pillow to pick up any of his calming scent.

It was primal really, your needs for him is always primal— where you need your fix soon or you could go crazy. And this is one of those times where you just want to be taken care of and fucked to oblivion. Your thighs tighten against themselves as your mind drifted back to last night’s events— you could still feel the burning sensation of his length stretching your cunt, and the dull pain on the mark right on top of your pulse.

Y/N wanted so desperately to touch herself, just have some sort of release, but her submissiveness never allowed her to do so as she remembered the rules her boyfriend— her dominant has laid out for her,

‘Tell me whenever you feel fuzzy, small, or any type of head space, communication is key.’

‘Absolutely no touching and no cumming unless it’s under my permission and mine only.’

As she feels her sweet nectar dripped onto the sheets, her trembling fingers reached out to grab her phone and call Spencer immediately. After no more than two ringings, his voice rang through her ears like molasses.

“Hey baby, are you okay? are you hurt? i’m just finishing up here— turns out they got the guy to confessed even before we arrived.” Gigantic amount of relieve washes over you as you tried not to sound off your whines, surely hearing the way he was stuffing his belongings onto his satchel.

“No dad- i mean no um no si- ugh i mean no i’m not hurt but i..” you stopped midway, holding back a painful whimper as you grind your hips into the mattress and feel the overwhelming pleasure that comes from it- upon hearing the estranged whimper, Spencer stopped his movement altogether and voiced out his worries.

“Hey hey little tiger, slow down. Shh, you can tell me whats wrong okay?” He bit his lips as he thought of her, and suddenly realizing what this must be, “Hey kitten, just talk to daddy okay? daddy’s here.” He looked around to see that nobody’s around him on the elevator before saying it to you.

His confirmation was proven by the choked out cries you let out suddenly, muttering ‘daddy please! need you!’ and nuzzling your nose deeper into his pillow to fill every fiber of your soul with his scent.

Spencer would be lying if he said that he wasn’t turned on beyond belief as he hopped inside his car and quickly turning his engine on; yet he also feels stupid and useless as a dom; a boyfriend to have left his girl, his sensitive fuzzy minded girl alone without taking care or pay enough attention to her state.

“Shh princess hey hey..” He tried to calm her down, as he sped down the road— but hearing his voice made her cry even louder for him, for him to come home. “Y/N, quit it right fucking now.” He demanded, voice laced thick with faux authority- he didn’t mean to be so harsh but he needed her to stop crying so he could take care of her, he could sworn that his heart break as he heard her sudden gasp with a following, “Sorry sir, ‘m sorry.”

“Listen to me, i’m on my way home okay? i need you to stay on the phone with daddy. Can you do that, little one?” He cooed gently, making sure to punctuate every single word so her fuzzy mind could make an actual sense out of his words.

——

When Spencer arrived to their shared room, his inner caregiver was screaming at himself for not paying enough attention to her. There she is, his gorgeous girlfriend’s body— laid face and belly down on top of their satin sheets, as she rocks her hips into tiny cute movements that made him cooed.

Y/N turned around when she feels his warming presence beside her, quickly letting out a choked out whimper as she shuffled close to him and nuzzle her nose onto her thighs before Reid scooped the frazzled girl into his lap and buried her face on his neck.

“Shh shh, there she is, there’s my good girl.” He whispered gently, rocking both of them on the bed, her cries died down quickly as she nuzzled her nose deeper into the crook of her boyfriend’s neck, her limbs were sprawled out all over him.

“Sorry daddy.. i didn’t— i didn’t mean to disturb you or or— please don’t punish me,” Spencer’s heart breaks once more at the soft tone of his girlfriend, gently cupping her face on both palm as he smiled and shook his head, pressing measly kisses all over her face.

“Of course i won’t punish you baby, you’ve been so good, my best girl.” Her small giggles instantly melt him, as he leaned in to kiss her lips softly, savoring her neediness and desire, practically sucking her soul with every tantalizing bite and suck of his tongue on hers.

Y/N couldn’t help to move her hips against his crotch greedily, spewing out squeaks of whimpers and whines onto his lips. Spencer groaned harshly as he feels his cock harden underneath her touch, pulling back from her lips as he reached his palm downwards to cup her clothed gently, causing her to gasped out loud- “Oh! Daddy!” to which Spencer hummed, and starts to rub his large palm directly on top of her clit.

His long slender fingers slipped past her panties and tugged them down her ankles before tossing them to the side, then he gently laid her down on the bed before taking off the rest of her clothes and his as well- leaving them both naked, skin-to-skin against each other, spreading each other’s warmth like how Y/N has been craving. He smiled softly as he sees how perfectly soft his girlfriend is, leaning down to gently kiss her lips before whispering, “Daddy’s going spoil you rotten now alright?” He grinned before moving his kisses downwards.

“Yes..yes yes please,” All you could do was moan and whine, your skin was on fire— sensitive to the core, as his lips attached itself to the flushness of your cunt, pressing soft gentle kisses onto the very top of your bundle of nerves.

The ministration alone caused you to buck your hips, “Daddy—“ your whines were stopped by the sudden overwhelming pleasure as Spencer’s tongue collect your wetness before spreading them so expertly accords your labia.

Little uh uh uh’s is the only sounds that came out of your lips, with following gasps. Your body trembled as he managed to sucked on your clit harshly whilst his fingers slip inside your warm wet walls. He thrust his fingers slowly, as his gaze stayed upon your eyes adoringly admiring how you thrash around the bed, lips bitten red— pleading with him— begging for his cock.

“What do you want, little one?” He leaned his flushed cheeks against your thighs as he worked your cunt gently, the tips of his huge fingers pressing onto the very spot that has you cumming in seconds, but you refused to— you would never cum without his permission, you’re his after all— therefore daddy has to be the one that give your orgasm to you.

“P-Please.. want your— ungh! want your cock!” the way Y/N’s lips pouts, sent overwhelming amount of warmth through his veins, as he chuckled, finally pulling his fingers out of your walls before crawling back up and pressed those very wet fingers on top of your lips.

“Open.” Was his only command, and you eagerly obeyed, sucking onto his middle and index fingers greedily— lapping up your juices off of him as you bat your eyelash. “Such a perfect little girl for me, you want my cock huh? that what you want baby?” He taunted, his other sets of fingers traced around your hair, tucking them behind your ear.

You nodded eagerly, mumbled a loud please! through his fingers— you didn’t care that you’re practically choking and gagging on his ridiculously hot long fingers; the only thing you cared about is making him feel good, being a good girl for him.

“Careful little love, we don’t want your cute throat to bruise now hm?” He cooed, prying his fingers away from your mouth, tapping them against your cheeks as he went on his knees; on the bed, and hiked your legs up his shoulder so his cock was practically touching your slit perfectly.

“Daddy..” You felt like crying, finally being able to feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, feeling every burn of the stretch, and the warm fire that settled deep inside your belly at the feeling of his cock nudging on your cute tummy, “Daddy—daddy..” Your cries becomes louder as he bottomed out completely, letting out strings of curses and ‘fucking love this tight pussy.’

“Shh it’s alright Princessa. Here hold your bear for me okay? hold onto him real tight, because daddy’s going to fuck you dumb now.” His voice was so venomous and electrifying that your hips bucked out of anticipation and your walls tighten involuntarily. You took the bear from his grasp before tucking the stuffed animal under your neck and clutching onto it tightly, “T-Thank you s-sir, please.. now?”

Spencer groaned for a moment as he let his feral need taken over him, pounding in and out of you with a brutal pace, his nails pushed deep on your inner thighs as you helplessly clutching onto the soft fur of your teddy bear.

Your moans were incoherent, your brain was completely fuzzy, and your soul was satisfied fully as Spencer thrust his cock deeper and if possible— even faster making you scream out in pleasure and pain. His eyes locked with yours, as he spewed out strings of curses, loudly.

“Fuck— such a perfect darling little thing for me, such a good fuck doll.” His words should’ve hurt but if it did something to you, it just made your walls clenched tightly— suffocating his cock, causing him to bucked his hips harder that the tip brushed against your cervix. “Oh!” Was the only thing you could let out weakly, feeling your body overcome with ridiculous amount of pleasure and yet you still want more— more of him.

“could practically see your tummy bulge like that baby, so fuckin perfect.” He cooed before continuing to fuck you into oblivion, his free thumb reached down to pinch and rub your clit, in which brought you closer and closer to your mind-blowing climax.

“Wanna cum baby? yeah?” He whispered, feeling himself getting close— he couldn’t help it when you looked like this, like a perfect little girl for him, with your arms clutching around the homemade stuffed bear and your eyes rolled as you’re nearing your orgasm.

“Yes please! daddy may i? may i? please i’ve been so— oh ungh! good!”

At the sound of her half-coherent neediness, Spencer let out a gruff mumbling of “Cum now, cum now little baby, thats it good girl— oh fuck daddy’s going to cum too, princess.” he warned, closing his eyes shut as he finally spilled his warmth inside your cunt, jerking his hips couple of times to make sure its all inside.

——

Your body was trembling as he held your close, wiping your skin gently with a very soft warm cloth— you had desperately begged for a bubble bath right after the sex, but he refused saying that it was too dangerous considering how fragile you are right now.

Although your mind has cleared out a bit, you still feel the fuzziness as he clothed you, fed you a granola bar and tipped your head back so you could drink slowly. “There is my good baby, I love you so much, Y/N.” He said tenderly yet somewhat convincingly.

Convincing enough to snapped you out of your daze, staring confusedly at him yet noticing what happened immediately. “S-Spencer?” You croaked out, wetting your lips as he smiled softly and laid down beside you,

“Hey Y/N.” He whispered, as much as he love his little girl, nothing and no one could beat how head over heels he is for his girlfriend. “I.. love you.. so much.” You managed to whimpered out, tucking your face onto the crook of your neck, “Sorry i got so fuzzy like that.”

His heart clenched as he heard her, “Hey no. It was my fault that i didn’t coaxed you this morning and i’m so sorry baby.” He apologized sweetly, causing you to giggle and wrapped your tired self all over his body and nods,

“Already forgiven, Doctor.”

With few more laughter and short pillowtalk— it doesn’t take long for you both to drift off comfortably, wrapped around each other in happiness.

Thank you for reading and supporting, give this a like if you enjoyed, thank you! My req and tag list is open, just message or send me an ask.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #dom!spencer #criminal minds smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #insufferableblurb

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

out of the ordinary (chip taylor/reader)

Title: Out Of The Ordinary

Request: no

Couple: Chip Taylor/Fem!Reader

Category: smut/angst

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrative sex, fingering, oral (fem), sex while someone is injured, breeding kink, groping, praise kink, multiple orgasms, hair pulling), swearing, blood and other bodily fluids, graphic descriptions of violence(!!!!), mentions of sexual acts, 68 Kill Spoilers, mentions of a dead partner, mentions of drugs (unknown), guns and gun violence, talks about kids (in the very far future),

Word Count: 9,562

Summary: Reader works at a hotel where she sees a lot of things out of the ordinary… Including a man running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist. If only she knew her day was about to get weirder

A/N: day three of what might have been the biggest mistake of my life. But i had fun! Idk how april does it bc i was struggling. Anyways, here is some chip smut. I didn’t edit this too super well, so please pardon any of the editing errors/grammatical issues. The next ones will/are beta’d and edited… thank you so much for sticking with me on this! Tomorrow is something i had a lot of fun writing! Here is the masterlist for 7days 7fics! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!

{***}{***}{***}

I wish that even though I lived in a small town, in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere, I would see normal things. You know? Things that happen in small towns in the middle fucking nowhere. But, because it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the highway goes right through the middle of our town, we get a lot of… interesting guests. Which makes my job a little entertaining, sometimes.

Sitting behind a window at a tiny, run-down hotel early morning to mid-afternoon was what I did for a living. 90% of the time I spent my time just sitting there, reading a book/magazine, messing around on my phone, or working on an assignment for my class. That other 10% is checking people in or out of their rooms.

My day was so close to coming to an end. 11:30… I just needed to be here for one more hour, and then I can go home and go to bed. And, surprisingly, nothing weird had happened. It was a successful day, praise the fucking Lord or whoever is watching down.

Until, I jinxed myself…I thought I had hit the one allotted out of the ordinary thing for the day. That was until, as I was finishing up this essay, and I heard something from out in the parking lot. When I looked away from my laptop to investigate. And what I saw was not what I was expecting, at all.

A tall man was running across the parking lot, coming right towards the check-in/out window. Now, you might be wondering why this was out of the ordinary. Well, you see, he was running across the parking lot wearing nothing but a face washcloth around his waist. Let’s just say it left little to nothing to the imagination.

“H-hey! Hi,” he spoke, coming right up to the counter. I was more than happy that there was a counter and window between the two of us. I’m happy he was attractive, in all sense of the words. He was very attractive. “Do… Do you have a phone… That I could borrow?” he asked, looking at me with actual worry and terror in his eyes and face. I stared at him with a raised brow.

“What happened to the one in your room?” I moved away from my laptop and leaned on the counter beside it. He looked over his shoulder at the room he stayed in. I cocked my head to my shoulder and stared at him. “What room number are you?”

“Uh, that… That doesn’t really matter? Um, I’m running late,” he cringed as he looked back at me. I blinked slowly before looking down at the clipboard with the most recent check-ins.

“Sure,” I looked right at the last name and noted the time he checked in, “Mister Delacroix?” I slowly looked back at him.

“Chip,”

“Well, listen, Chop,” I paused my words as I walked over to the door to let him in. I was just happy he didn’t correct me when I called him the wrong name. I could have corrected myself, but I was just annoyed that I’d probably have to take care of the mess in his room.

“The owner’s son texted me, telling me that the people in your room had a rager last night… So, if I have to go clean that room and see cum and piss all over the room, and a coke tray on the counters, I’m charging you double,” I looked up at him as he entered the office. He was a lot taller standing in front of me. I don’t know why I thought he was shorter. Maybe its because he was standing on lower ground and I was inside.

“I… Rager?” He stared at me with a confused crease in his brow. I stared at him before slowly nodding. “Do… Do you know who came over? Do you know who it was?”

“I… Uh, I’ll have to ask the owner’s son. But, by the sounds of it, it was a little rough. I’m surprised you’re still up and walking without a limp,” I chuckled. I slowly looked up and down his body, taking in how he looked. He was slightly muscular, and though he had abs, his tummy was slightly pudgy. Which I could get with. I could appreciate a bit of a tummy on a guy like him.

“Listen,” he started, his words showing more urgency than before. I looked up, away from his body and at his face. It was probably his urgency that got my attention because I definitely almost went a little lower than the towel. “I need to know-Do you have any clothes? This is slightly distracting,” he looked at me. I wasn’t too sure if he was talking distracting for me, or for him. But I do agree, it was very distracting.

“Uhm,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I pulled my stare off him and went to look for the lost and found box, “There’s not much in here, but I’m sure there’s something,” I glanced at him as I placed the box on the counter.

“Right, thanks,” Chip looked at me before going to dig around in the box, “Do you know who came to my room last night?”

“I think… Hold on,” I muttered before rushing to the counter, shuffling some papers to find a random sticky note with some sloppy hand writing, “Christ, I forget he doesn’t speak english,” I shook my head as I stared at the writing. “Some goth chick and her boyfriend, or whatever. Uh, yeah, he told me about it this morning before he left. Like, 6 other people I think,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head, “It sounds like they roughed the place up?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he looked away from the box for a brief moment. I watched as he pulled out a white and red t-shirt (that was left behind by a group of younger women) and a pair of sweat-shorts. “Great, now I gotta go back to that fucking gas station. Fucking fuck,” he muttered to himself as he dropped the towel to the ground. I widened my eyes and couldn’t help but stare at his ass.

“Gas station?” I asked, keeping my eyes on his body as he turned to face me. That was when I got a view of the full frontal package. I swallowed roughly.

“Are… Are you going to turn around?” he looked at me with nervousness in his eyes as he held the pants and shirt close to his body, lower towards his crotchal region. I smirked, raising an eyebrow and cocking my head to the side.

“Nope,” I looked up at him with a smile. When I noticed that he wasn’t going to move to get dressed, I dropped my shoulders before turning around.

“Which gas station are you talking about?” I asked, looking at the ground. I wasn’t entirely sure why I asked which gas station it was he was talking about. There was just one gas station in the whole town, and I knew he was in a bit of trouble.

From behind me, I could hear Chip muttering strings of profanities to himself. Part of me wondered if he needed help with anything, or if I was just a disposable person in his day. Probably the latter.

“The one down the street,” his voice was low. I wondered what he was thinking about and what his urgency was all about. “You can turn around. Can I use the phone,” he asked as I turned to face him. I looked at him and held back a laugh. Which, in turn, earned a glare from him.

“Yeah, yeah, you have to dial 1 before the number you’re calling,” I went to move the phone closer to him, nearly pushing/pulling everything off the counter.

“Thanks,” he looked over at me before picking up the phone and dialing his number. I watched as he turned away from me. He wasn’t on the phone for very long, and it didn’t sound like it was a good call.

“I… I gotta go. Can I use your car?” Chip asked as he looked out at the only car in the lot. I followed his gaze at my shitty 2001 Saturn. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking back at him.

“I can just give you a ride, you know… And, it’d probably be better if you had a partner with you. That phone call didn’t sound good… At all. And, no one will take you seriously dressed like that,” I nodded at his attire. He looked down at what he was wearing before looking back at me. “Back up just in case? No one will notice I’m gone,” I let out a dry laugh.

“It’ll be dangerous,” he looked at me with worry in his eyes. I shrugged before looking at the ground.

“I could use a little danger in my life,” I laughed before looking back at him, “I’ve been sitting in this stupid office, doing this stupid job since I was 16. The hundreds of people I’ve seen is crazy. This job is boring, I need something risky.” I explained when I noticed he needed more information.

“You could die,” he pointed out. I shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I could die just sitting here. Let me help you,” I stare at him with wide eyes. He looked at the ground and sighed. I could tell he wanted to fight with me, to get me to stay. But I could also tell he really needed help, and really needed to get out of this stupid town and state.

“Fine, you can come. But, you can’t ask any questions,” he pointed at me. I smiled before closing my laptop and grabbing for my car keys.

“Fine, let’s go,” I looked at him before pushing past him and leaving the office.

Chip was close behind me, still muttering to himself. From what I did hear, I heard the number 68,000 and then the word dollars. 68,000 dollars??? And he’s in a shit town like this?! What the fuck? What the fuck am I getting myself into? Fuck, this is a mistake… Fuck.

The ride to the gas station was quiet. Chip must have been thinking of what he was going to say or do when he got there. Let’s just hope it wasn’t Monica there. Bitch is crazy.

“Stay here, I have a feeling what I need isn’t here,” he muttered as he got out of the car. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“W-w-wait, you don’t want me to go with?” I asked as I slipped out of the car too, “Listen, I know the family that owns this gas station. They’re crazy. They’re nuts.”

“I got it. Just… just wait here,” he looked over at me one last time before going in. I stared at the door that he disappeared into before slamming the door shut. I leaned against the side of my car, patiently waiting for Chip to come back out.

I don’t even know how long he was in there for. But, it was a very long time. Worry took over as I began to overthink things. That dumb bitch probably killed him.

My worry melted away once he stepped outside with nothing but shame on his face. I raised an eyebrow, watching as he walked closer to me and my car.

“You look like you saw a ghost or something,” I chuckled as I pushed myself off my car and back around to the drivers’ side of the car.

“No, no it was much worse than a ghost,” he muttered before getting in the car himself. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked towards the doors of the gas station.

“Whatever,” I shook my head before slipping into the car, “Where to now? Monica’s trailer?” I raised an eyebrow as I glanced over at Chip. I watched as he pulled something out of his mouth and wrinkled his nose.

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked over at me before looking around my car.

“Do you have a plan? Or… Or a gun?” I asked as we got closer to the trailer park. He looked at me with a little terror in his eye. No plan or gun? Seriously? Good thing there’s a gun in my glove box. “You can’t go to these guys with just luck, Chip. That’ll get you killed,” I glanced at him as I reached over for the glove box, pulling it open and pulling out the gun.

“What the fuck! Where did that come from?” he asked, watching as I placed the gun on my lap. I glanced at him as I pressed down on the gas, speeding down the highway. “Jesus! Slow down,”

“You’re the one who fucking lost $68,000 to fucking Monica! You go in and get her money-”

“It’s not her-”

“It’s her money now, Chip. Jesus, she stole 3 of my bikes when we were little,” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Chip looked at me again and nodded. “You’re lucky you have help,” I muttered as I kept my eyes on the road.

“You know this bitch?” Chip stared at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“She’s my, like, second cousin. My Dad’s niece’s kid,” I shrugged before shaking my head, “She’s a cunt. A fucking cunt,” I scoffed as I remembered my childhood with her. Chip was silent as I pulled into a driveway and parked the car.

“Oh good, looks like there’s a metal baseball bat in the yard,” I smiled at him. Chip looked at me with wide eyes, actual terror sitting in his eyes. I watched as he unbuckled his seatbelt and rested his hand on the latch to my car. He stayed still for a moment before turning to face me. I could tell that there was a moment of hesitation. I don’t blame him, do be honest. I hesitated to bring him here. Taking him here is basically signing his death warrant.

“Stay… Stay here… If I’m not out in an hour… Call the cops,” he looked at me before slipping out of the car. I watched as he walked up the driveway, picking up the metal bat, and walked towards the door. I almost got out of the car and went after him, but I didn’t. I’ll listen to him. He must have a plan worked out if he didn’t need my help yet.

I swallowed roughly, watching him knock on the door and wait for it to swing open. And when it did, a familiar looking guy stepped out of the trailer. It was obvious he was sizing Chip up, mocking him as he spoke. Chip looked over his shoulder at me, silently pleading for help of some sort. I shrugged, pretending like I didn’t understand what he was asking for.

A bell ringing came up the driveway and passed me. A familiar blonde riding a bike rode up the driveway.

“Oh, you again,” Chip spoke out loud at the blonde woman. Amy… Of course. Of course she shows up. She’s probably the one who told him where that bitch, Monica, even lived. I was just happy she didn’t even see me when she rode past me. I didn’t want to be a part of any of that bullshit.

Then he was pulled into the trailer.

“Fuck, this… This isn’t going to be good,” I muttered as I slouched down into my seat in the safety of my car. I wished there was something more that I could do to help him. Because just sitting here for an hour and waiting to call the cops won’t help me or him, specifically Chip. Fucking around with Monica and her… I don’t even know what to call the people she hands out with.

I grabbed for my gun again, pulling out the magazine and looking at how much ammo I had. Just as I put my hand on the handle to get out, a loud bang came from near the trailer, causing me to nearly jump out of my seat. I sat, frozen, paralyzed in my spot, staring at the trailer. They’ve just killed Chip. Or, Chip just killed them

“I don’t know what… What do I do…” I whispered to myself as I stared at the door from the safety of my car. I wasn’t prepared for this at all. What I should have done was follow my own advice to Chip and come up with a secondary plan… I can’t exactly go in there guns blazing… Unless, that’s exactly what I do. They won’t expect Chip to have a partner with him.

Okay, that’s it… That’s my plan… Bust into the trailer, and just go for it… But, I think… Should I wait the hour Chip told me to wait? What if he’s in trouble? Who am I kidding, he’s totally in trouble.

{***}{***}{***}

I just wish I hadn’t fallen asleep. Because, the next thing I knew it was morning and Chip was still in Monica’s trailer. Chip was still in danger.

I quickly fumbled my way out of the back seat and into the front. It was even worse as I rushed to get out of the car, my body nearly falling to the ground. When I was finally out of the car, I recollected myself, hyping myself up as I walked towards the trailer.

I had my gun tucked into the back of my pants as I walked. I didn’t want to be quick, but I also didn’t want to be slow. Chip could be in danger, and it was a little bit my fault. He’d be out of that situation if I hadn’t fallen asleep.

My fist carefully knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer sooner rather than later. When the door flew open, Monica was standing in the door frame, looking down at me with slight disgust.

“We don’t want girl scout cookies,” she looked down at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Good thing I’m not a girl scout, Monica,” I took a deep breath before pulling the gun out from my pants. I lifted it up and pointed it right at her chest. “Where’s Chip,”

“You want him?” Monica asked, cocking a hip as she leaned against the door frame. She wasn’t even bothered by my weapon being pointed at her chest. It was like she was used to it. “He brought you as back up? Oh that poor boy?” she looked down at the gun. I took a deep breath as I stared at her.

She knew I wasn’t going to use it. She knew me well enough to know that I just had this stupid gun for looks, and that I wasn’t going to shoot anyone. But, what she doesn’t know is that I’m not afraid of her anymore. She may have tormented me when we were kids. But I’m taking it all back now.

“Where’s Chip and the money, Monica,” I spoke, my voice low as I spoke. I slowly cocked my gun as I stared at her.

“Oh, you know about the money too?” she asked before looking into the trailer at her friends and, I’d assume, Chip. “Did you hear that? This slut knows about the money,” she spoke, looking at everyone. I swallowed roughly as she looked back at me, “Is she replacing that other slut we killed last night?”

“Just go! Get out of here!” I could hear Chip yell from somewhere in the trailer. Monica stared down at me, watching me as my hands shook with the weapon in hand.

“Too afraid to use that gun?” she mocked in a whiny tone. I blinked slowly as I moved my finger to the trigger. Everything happened so fast, when I opened my eyes, Monica was stumbling back, her hand over stomach where blood was spilling out. Blood was being coughed up as she fell against the couch, looking up at me with wide eyes. “You actually did it,” she coughed, staring at me terror in her eyes.

“I’m not scared of you anymore, Monica,” I spoke as I stepped into the trailer. I smiled as I looked down at her, cocking my gun and pointing it down at her again, “You terrorized me when we were kids… But not anymore… No,” I took a deep breath before as we made eye contact.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whimpered, looking at me, struggling to move as I got closer to her, “Listen, you can take Chip, and… and the money and go… I’ll leave you alone now…”

“Sorry just isn’t going to do it, Monica, not this time… Not ever,” I shook my head, “You can burn in hell for all I care,” I scoffed as I stared at her. Blood was dripping down the sides of her lips as she pleaded with me, but at this point I didn’t care about anything she was saying.

Chip called my name, causing me to look over at him. They really did a number on him. I wonder if they would have gotten this bad had I actually called the cops and did something last night.

My hands and shoulders dropped as I looked at him. I didn’t even bother with the others around me, I’d take care of them after.

Or, so I thought… One of Monica’s friends stood up and charged after me. I stumbled back, fumbling to cock the gun before pulling the trigger at him, getting him right in the head. He fell to the ground with a thud, a slab of meat just on the floor.

“Anyone else?” I looked at the others around me, really feeling my sudden anger and annoyance come through for everyone. The people around me backed away from me. I looked back at Chip, appreciating the way he was looking up at me. Just as I went to my knees to help him, the sound of a shotgun being cocked came from behind me. I froze as the barrel of a gun was pressed right to my head.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sweet Heart?” a woman’s voice asked from behind me. I took a deep breath as I dropped my gun to the ground. I looked back at Chip and noted how the adoration he had in his eyes slowly turned into terror and fear. “Where’s my money, Chip?” the woman asked. There was a certain fakeness in her words that scared me a bit.

“I… I don’t have it!” Chip shouted as he struggled to stand up. I cringed as Liza pushed the barrel into my head a bit more. I swallowed roughly as I looked at Chip.

“L-liza? H-h-how did you… How did you find me?” Chip exclaimed as he looked past me and at the woman.

“I told you, Chip, I always know where you are,” her fake sweetness really struck a chord in me, pissing me off more than I was before. “Now… Where’s my money?”

Someone from the sidelines jumped to their feet and instantly charged at Liza. It was terrifying how quick Liza was to turn and shoot the gun at the man. I quickly moved away and grabbed my gun from the ground. I felt a little bad for moving behind Chip, using him as a shield from this new woman.

“You’re so quick to move on, Chippy,” Liza spoke as she looked back at me. I appreciated that Chip actually covered me instead of cowering away like I half expected him to. “First the whore from last night and now her?”

“I’m not a slut or a whore,” I stared at her. She cocked her head as she looked over at me. Yet, again another one of Monica’s people came after us, only to be stopped by a different person, their arm being sliced off in one swift motion. If you blinked you would have missed it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of the three girls shouted front he couch. Liza turned to face the person behind her before saying something else.

“What… What do we do, Chip,” I whispered as I tugged gently on his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at me before lifting his finger to his lips. I stared at him for a moment, watching as he thought of a plan. The level of chaos in the building was starting to stress me out. I wasn’t expecting two terrifying people to show up at an already terrifying place.

“Go have fun with that one, Dwayne-y,” Liza pointed towards one of the girls on the couch. The guy looked over at the girl before grabbing her and pushing past Chip and I. I fell against the wall and blacked out for a moment.

When I came too, Liza was standing in front of Chip, talking to him about something. It was eerily quiet in the trailer now, other than Liza and Chip’s voice. My guess was Liza took everyone out. But, why’d she keep me alive? Chip probably bargained for my life. I’m honestly just a bystander in this whole thing, wasn’t I?

“You can let him run away… you can hunt him down, and kill him… Or… Or you can discipline him.. Teach him to heel or whatever he’s supposed to do,” Liza cocked her head as she looked at Chip. I took a deep breath, looking at the ground and noticed the gun on the ground right behind Chip. “So, Chip, what option do you want?” her tone was filled with that sickening sweetness, and it made me want to beat the shit out of her.

“Violet said there’s always another option,” Chip spoke softly as he looked at Liza. I carefully moved and grabbed the gun.

“Oh, she… She did? Well, I don’t see her here… Because she’s dead, Chip,” Liza scoffed. I took a deep and shaky breath before moving around the chair and aiming the gun right at Liza. “Oh, look who’s got the balls now,” Liza looked past Chip and at me. I stared down at her, feeling nervousness in the form of bile rise up my throat. “Are you gonna shoot me? Baby’s gonna sho-” her statement was finished short by a bullet to her head. I closed my eyes and looked down at the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” Chip shouted as Liza’s body fell to the ground. I took a deep breath before looking down at him. “She’s dead!”

“She was going to fucking kill both of us, Chip!” I shouted back, looking at him with wide eyes. Chip looked up at me as he stumbled to his feet.

“Okay, okay,” Chip looked down at me, placing his hand on my shoulder to steady himself. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “$68,000… My clothes, and then we fucking ditch this fucking place,” he pointed towards the door where the creepy man from before dragged a girl. I swallowed roughly as I looked towards the door.

“Here,” I handed him my gun before nodding towards the door. Chip looked down at me, a slight glare in his eyes before he took a step forward. I followed behind him, staying close to his body. He pushed the door open and immediately fired the gun, killing the guy instantly.

“I’m never going to sleep again, holy fucking shit,” I muttered as I looked at the horrors in front of me. He fucking ripped the girl a part.

“Stay here for a minute,” Chip muttered before stepping away from me. He didn’t seem bothered by everything. I was impressed that he was able to step into the room more and move stuff around. One he found what he was looking for he came back beside me.

“Let’s fucking go,” he muttered, holding a shoe box under his arm. I looked at the box as I followed behind him. I could kill him right now, and take that 68grand. I could start a new life on my own…

“Yeah, let’s go,” I looked down at the ground, “Shouldn’t we clean up the place first? Our fingerprints and DNA is all over the place,” I looked around the trailer and at all the dead bodies. Is it bad this didn’t phase me at all?

“You’re right. Hold this,” he muttered as he shoved the box into my hands. I looked down at it with wide eyes before looking back at Chip. He had a bottle of straight whiskey in his hand and was splashing it around the room, going into the other rooms before coming back. “You think this will be enough?” he asked, looking down at me with a certain exhaustion in his eyes. I tried to look past all the injuries he had earned, but it was hard when they covered his whole face.

“Hopefully,” I shoved the box back into his arm before leaving the building. I waited just outside as he lit a lighter and tossed it to the floor, causing the whole building to be engulfed in flames.

“Where to?” Chip asked as we walked back to my car. I looked over my shoulder at the blazing trailer and shrugged.

“Somewhere away from here. But first, we should get you a first aid kit,”

{***}{***}{***}

We drove for a long time. A very long time. I think we both wanted to make sure we were away from Monica’s trailer before we rested for the night. Which also meant we had to wait a long time before Chip could get the proper care he needed. It wasn’t fair to either of us that this was the case at the moment. I wasn’t ever expecting this to be what happened to me the other day when I woke up. I was just happy that after the second day of driving, he was actually okay.

“I’ll go get a room, you stay here,” I looked over at Chip. It looked like he was asleep, which I was expecting, so when he lifted his head and looked over at me I was a little confused.

“No, no let me,” he mumbled as he fought to get his seatbelt undone.

“Chip, you look like you just got out of Fight Club… Let me go get the room,” I placed a hand on his to stop him from moving anymore. He looked up at me with a little bit of terror in his eyes, “I’ll be right back, I promise,” I kept my voice low as I spoke to him.

“Okay, you’re right,” he mumbled before moving his hand away from the buckle. Chip rested his head against the head rest before closing his eyes lightly. I sighed deeply before sliding out of the car and towards the entrance of the hotel lobby.

I kept my voice low the entire time as I spoke to the front desk manager. It was hard when I also looked like I just got out of a war and the manager kept looking at me like that was the case. When they finally handed me the room key, I let out the deepest sigh of relief and returned out to the car.

“We have a room… Two days…” I looked over at Chip as I drove to a parking spot near our room.

“Two days… Nice, nice,” he murmured and nodded. I looked over at him and watched as he slowly unbuckled.

“You go into the room, I’ll grab the food and first aid kit,” I handed him the key before we both got out. Chip nodded before leaving and going towards the room. I made sure to be quick as I grabbed the stuff from the back.

“Should I shower?”

“No, no, let me clean your wounds up first,” I nodded towards the bed. Chip looked over at the bed before going to sit on it. I was relieved when he laid back on the bed like nothing mattered in the world. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Are you going to play nurse with me?” he asked, looking at me with a playful smirk on his lips. I laughed and nodded as I approached the bed.

“Unfortunately, I think I’m all you got,” I laughed as I sat on the bed beside him. He sat up and moved closer to him. We were both quiet as I pulled out alcohol wipes and gauze. I looked at his face, trying to figure out where to start. Thankfully the swelling in his eyes went down, but I cracked an ice pack to help.

“This is gonna sting,” I looked at his face as I lifted the wipe to his face. He winced as I began wiping the wounds on his face.

“Are you okay?” I looked up at him as I carefully placed butterfly band-aids and regular band-aids over the wounds. He looked back at me, a certain softness in his eyes. I was happy that he’d probably just need a few band-aids on his face instead of gauze and stitches like I’d thought. We both didn’t want to go to the hospital…

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered as he tried to not move away from my touch. I frowned looking at his face. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he added. I looked down at his hands and nodded.

“Did you want to go to the hospital and tell them the truth?” I raised an eyebrow as I shifted closer to him with an alcohol pad. He cringed as I pressed it to the open wound on his hand. “Sorry,” I cringed as he flinched.

“You’re right, though… I don't think I could make up a believable lie in the hospital,” he looked at me, watching me clean the injuries..

“Was it worth it?” I asked, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Chip shrugged a bit like he wasn’t too sure what I was talking about.

“Was… Was what worth it?” he asked, trying not to furrow his eyebrows. I laughed lightly and shrugged.

“The 68 grand that you risked your life for, Chip,” I laughed as I grabbed a bandage and picked it open, “Is it okay if the band-aid is pink with butterflies?” I held it up to show him the design. He swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, it was worth it,” he whispered, causing me to look back at his face. I furrowed my eyebrows when it became my turn to stare at him. “Because if I didn’t lose the $68 thousand... I probably wouldn’t have met you… And you saved my life,”

“Oh please, don’t compare me to Violet,” I laughed and shook my head. I felt a little bad for bringing up his dead friend, but I personally felt like he was comparing me to her. Just a little bit.

“I’m not,” he looked taken aback by my sudden statement. I shrugged, not entirely believing him. He knew that too. I looked at him, noting the cut and bruise across his nose. Who knows how long that was going to take to heal, but I hope it didn’t hurt him too much. “I’m being serious,”

“That makes me feel better,” I smiled as I began cleaning up the first aid kit we had bought when we pulled into a new town, “I should probably let you go your own way, come morning. I don’t want to get in the way of you while you’re trying to flee everything” I laughed as I clicked the first aid kit shut, “I’ll let you have my car,”

“Please stay,” he whispered, watching as I stood and walked across the room. I almost didn’t hear him. But I was preoccupied with my thoughts, trying to figure out how I’d get home if I had given him my car to leave. I was 2 days away from home… That’d be a long way back. “I probably would die if you didn’t come with me,” he added as I turned to face him.

“I’d be pretty useless if I came with. Is your life always like that, Chip?” I asked, placing my fists on my hips. He stayed quiet. “Because if it’s always like that, running from danger and shooting guns…”

“You’ll go back home, I get it. What happened the other day was-”

“I never said that,” I cut him off, “Yeah, what happened the other day was terrifying, Chip. But, I don’t think I’ve ever had such an eventful day in my entire life. I just don’t think I would be able to do that again. That parts gotta go,”

“Consider it gone,” Chip shook his head, watching as I slowly walked back over towards him. I looked down at him, appreciating the way he looked back up at me. “Forgotten. We can… We can buy a house in… In Iowa. Have kids, have a family. Get as far as we can from that place,” he moved his legs and allowed me to stand between them.

“Iowa?” I scoffed, wrinkling my nose at the thought of moving to Iowa. “And… You want to have kids? After everything that happened? You want to bring kids into this world?” I sighed deeply as I looked down at him. I left out the part of how we just met 4 days ago. He doesn’t even know me.

“Yeah, but if you were their mother, I think they’d be pretty safe,” Chip laughed as he reached up to grab my hand. I stared at him, feeling my heart swell in my chest.

“You don’t even know me, Chip,” I laughed lightly. He furrowed his eyebrows before shrugging. “And you already want to have kids with me?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think it matters. You saved my life,” he pointed out. I bit my lower lip as he brushed his thumb across the back of my hand.

“Yeah,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I stared at him, “You saved mine too, Chip,” I smiled at him, “I think Liza might have killed me if it wasn’t for you,” I laughed lightly out my nose. And, it was true. She probably would have killed me after she knocked me out...

“Well, good thing Dwayne was easy enough to take care of,” he returned the laughter, “Can’t believe I dated that bitch,” he sighed as he looked up at me.

“Yeah, I was about to say…” I smiled softly. Chip smiled as he carefully tugged my hand so I would fall forward slightly.

“Kiss me,” he whispered as I braced myself on his shoulder with one hand. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking down at his lips. The cut on his upper lip had thankfully stopped bleeding.

“Is that a good idea,” I pulled my hand off his shoulder and gently held his face. He wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. “Chip, I’m serious,”

“I am too,” he begged as he looked at me, “I could di-”

“You won’t die tomorrow. You’re safe now,” I smiled softly as I looked at him.

“So, what’s stopping you from kissing me,” he asked, pointing out the fact that there was indeed nothing stopping me from kissing him.

“Why you gotta be like that?” I asked, moving my hand up his face. I carefully brushed the wound on his temple before carding my fingers through his hair.

“Be like what?” Chip asked as I pushed my hand through his hair and rested it on the back of his head.

“You’re so… nice. You’re not like other men, the ones who look at women like objects,” I laughed and shook my head, “You wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

“You do know I killed, like, bunch of people yesterday,” he asked. I smiled and nodded. He pulled his hand from mine and rested both his hands on my hips. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair…” I sighed deeply and cocked my head, “You won’t regret it, will you?” I asked, my voice hardly a whisper.

“Regret what? Kissing you?” He asked, his thumbs playing with the hem of my shirt, just barely touching the skin of my hip. I nodded lightly. “Why would I regret kissing you?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy regret kissing me,” I whispered as I looked away from him, “The last guy I dated… He dated me as a joke… It wasn’t till after we… Well, we did a little bit more than kissing, did he tell me that it was all a joke,” I whispered before looking down at the ground.

“Nothing about me asking for a kiss is a joke, I promise,” Chip replied, his voice causing me to look back at him. He lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder. “We don’t even have to do anything… You don’t have to ki-”

“I do… I do want to kiss you, Chip,” I whispered softly, “I’m just scared, that’s all,” I stared down at him.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he smiled softly, running his hand down my arm before grasping my hand. I swallowed roughly before moving to straddle his legs. He took a sharp breath as I adjusted myself on his legs.

“Sorry,” I cringed as I tried to get off his legs. Chip looked at me before resting his hands on my hips, keeping me in place on his lap.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, bringing a hand back to my face. I stared at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips.

After a moment of just staring at each other, I moved forward, closing the space between. Our lips connected, and it was the softest, gentlest kiss ever. Although my lips were still dry, his lips felt dry, drier than the sand on the beach. The blood that was on his lips dried slightly, but it didn’t bother me at all.

Chip placed his hand on my lower back, moving me closer to his body. My arms wrapped around his neck, my body willingly moving closer to him as if it couldn’t get enough of him. I could tell that he craved me too, his other hand moving hastily around my body.

“Is this a good idea?” I murmured against his lips. I was careful as I pressed my forehead to his, feeling a small smile tug on my lips. “You’re like… Seriously…” I stopped myself from saying ‘seriously injured’.

“I’m okay. I’m fine with it if… If you’re fine with it,” he whispered, his hands going back to the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes and let a deep breath of air out my nose. A small smile grew across my lips as his hand finally slipped up my shirt and up to my bra. “Please tell me your fine with it,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. I swallowed roughly and nodded, our noses brushing together as my head moved.

“Yeah, yeah it’s… I’m fine with it…” I nodded, taking a deep breath before opening my eyes, “I’m more than fine with it,” I whispered as I looked at him.

That was when he kissed me again. It was different than before. Because, before it was gentle and soft, like he didn’t want me to melt away. But also it was soft because we both had mild- not so mild injuries, and I knew he didn’t want to hurt me. The differences between this one and that one is, fervent and passionate, it took my breath away.

Chip’s hand on my back fiddled with my bra as he tried to unclasp it. I couldn’t help but laugh as he began to struggle. It was clear he was getting frustrated with the struggle, so when I went to help him, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he fought to pull my shirt off. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, it’s okay,” I whispered before lifting my arms in the air. Chip smiled before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it somewhere behind me. I sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air hit my bare chest. Chip was careful as he pressed his lips back to mine, then on the side of my mouth, before trailing down my neck. It was gentle, and soft, but it was enough for me to notice him sucking soft spots on my skin. My hands went back to his head, carefully pulling at the hair on the back of his head.

My head tilted to the side the further down my neck he went. A small gasp fell from my mouth as he attached his lips to my breast. My fingers gently pulled his hair, causing him to hum lightly. It was hard not to react to him and his touch. I needed him more than I needed air.

“D-don’t stop,” I whispered, my words wavering with each syllable. It was so hard to concentrate on anything as he placed his lips around my nipple. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to arch my back into him more.

Chip stood up, causing me to latch on to him so I wouldn’t fall, before turning around to put me on the bed. I looked up at him, my breathing picking up slightly as he stared down at me. His lower lip was pulled between his teeth as he looked at me.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I whispered, lifting a hand to his face. He could hear the worry in my words as I spoke, letting his lower lip fall from his mouth. “Your lip is bleeding.” I left out that it was only bleeding a little bit, but it was enough to notice the red.

“It’s fine,” he whispered, bringing his hand to rest on my cheek. His thumb brushed against my lower lip. My body shivered slightly before I opened my mouth slightly. He smirked before slipping his thumb between my lips. I swirled my tongue around his thumb as I stared at him.

“Good girl,” Chip hummed, resting his other hand on the mattress by my head. I swallowed roughly before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down to my face. He moved his thumb from my mouth and looked down at me.

“Please don’t make me ask more than once,” I whispered, releasing my hand from his shirt to lift it to his face. He flinched away slightly as my hand barely touched his face. I could feel my face soften as I looked at him. “I won’t hurt you, Chip. You’re safe now,” I whispered as I moved my hand from his face.

“I know, I know,” he shook his head before lowering his face to mine, lightly pressing his lips to mine. I hummed, wrapping my arms around his neck again. “You won’t have to ask more than once,” he murmured against my lips. He looked down at me before pressing his lips to mine again, slowly kissing down my neck and chest.

Although he was quick to move down my chest, he was slow once he got to my hips.

“Hold on,” he stepped away from me, rushing to the bathroom real quick. I sat up, resting back on my hands, as I waited for him to come back.

“What… What are you doing, Chip?” I asked, my patience starting to wear thin as the seconds ticked by. I swallowed roughly as he stepped back out of the bathroom.

“Cleaning my face a little bit more,” he looked at me with a small smile on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows as he came back to stand between my legs.

“I-I’m confused,” I looked up at him. Although, I really shouldn’t be confused. I’m the one who said ‘Please don’t make me ask more than once.’ and he obviously wanted it as badly as I did.

“You know,” he smiled as he lifted my hips a little bit before pulling my pants off my body. I suddenly couldn’t control my breathing anymore, and I was left trying to control myself. “Wouldn’t want to get blood everywhere,” he looked up at me as he dropped my pants to the ground.

I stared at him watching as he lowered to his knees between my legs. He was gentle as pressed his lips to the soft skin on my inner thigh. I took a deep breath, trying so hard to regulate my breathing. My elbows and arms gave out, causing me to lie back hard on the bed.

“So beautiful,” Chip whispered before blowing softly at my core. I gasped and pressed my head into the bed beneath me. My hands and fingers got knotted up in his hair again, slowly pulling his head closer to my body.

Chip laughed at me before peppering butterfly kisses over my pussy. I gasped, tugging lightly on his hair. He looked up at me before grasping both of my hands and holding them down on the bed.

“Ch-chip, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I whimpered pulling at his hands. He hummed before licking a stripe right up my cunt. I swear, I couldn’t even breathe. He squeezed my hands as he kept licking at me. After a moment, his lips attached around my clit, sucking softly at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” I cried out as he pulled a hand from one of mine. I didn’t even notice that he pushed a finger into me. My free hand went over my mouth as a moan fell from me. Chip obviously enjoyed that sudden reaction, causing him to moan too. The vibrations from him caused me to moan again.

“ ‘m so close. Please, Chip, so close,” I moved my hand to his hair and pulled on it a lot harder than before. It was like I couldn’t breathe, the wind being knocked from my lungs like I was punched in the gut. “Fuck, Chip,” I moaned, my hips jerking at him. He pulled his hand from mine and placed it firmly on my stomach, holding me down.

“You’re doing so good, Princess,” he murmured against my body. I cried out when he pressed his lips back on me.

My mind went fuzzy and my vision turned white. I could feel my toes curling against the rough, scratchy comforter beneath me. My hands gripped his hair and the blanket so tightly I was sure my knuckles would blanch. And the only thing I could say was his name as I came.

My chest heaved as I tried to breathe. When I opened my eyes, Chip was back over me. He smiled, clearly enjoying what had just happened.

“That was… That was good,” I laughed lightly. Chip returned the laughter before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed following after him as he pulled away from me.

“That was, like, barely the pregame,” Chip laughed as he looked down at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and smiled softly. “If at all the pregame,”

“Well are you going to get started on the actual game or just leave me alone?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I stared at him. Chip laughed again before standing up right to rid himself of his jeans. I quickly moved so I was lying up by the pillows.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked once he was back over me. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m positive. If I wasn’t… I wouldn’t have let you eat me out the way you did,” I laughed as I brought my hands to his face, “I appreciate you cleaning your face a bit before you did that though. I don’t really want the staph infection or STD,” I laughed harder than I should have. But that in turn caused Chip to glare at me.

“Well, now I don’t think I want to have sex with you,” he looked away from me before sitting up right. I stopped laughing before sitting up to look at him.

“C’mon, Chip, I was just joking.” I moved so I was closer to him, “I’d love to get a STD from you,” I bit back my laughter as I looked at him. He glared at me again.

“Shut up,” he muttered, looking down at the bed. I smiled before lifting a hand to his face.

“You’re the one who wants to fuck the girl you just met 4 days ago,” I pointed out as I moved to straddle his waist. He looked at me as I sat on him. “But, to be fair, I also want to have sex with the guy I met 4 days ago so it’d be a little hypocritical of me to judge you,” I shrugged. I tried really hard not to look at his cock, but it was right there… It was obvious that he was painfully hard. “Use me, Chip,” I swallowed roughly as I looked up at his face. His eyes were scanning my face as his hands were resting on my hips. I could feel his fingers digging into my skin, and I was more than happy to let that happen.

What he did next surprised me. He lifted my hips up so I was hovering over him, before slamming me on his cock. A shout came from my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my face into his shoulder as I tried to breathe properly after the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck,” I panted before looking up at him after a moment. My muscles clenched around him as I slowly got used to his size. Chip pressed his lips to mine before carefully thrusting up into me. My hips slowly moved, meeting him at the perfect spots. His lips hardly left mine, and when they did it was only for a few moments.

“Gonna fill you up,” Chip mumbled as he pressed his lips to my neck, “Gonna put a baby in you,”

“Please! Don’t stop, fuck,” I cried, rolling my hips against his. My mouth opened around his shoulder, my teeth carefully sinking into his skin. “God,” I whined looking back up at him, “Do it, please, do it,”

“Yeah? You like that?” Chip groaned as he brought a hand to my chest. I let out a shaky breath and nodded as he massaged my breast. “Being filled with my cum, carrying my child,” he looked up at me. I pressed my lips together and nodded, feeling myself get closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Chip, please,” I placed my hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer to my face. I pressed my lips to his as he pulled me closer to his body, my chest pressing against his.

My breathing grew raged as he picked up his pace. His hand dropped to where our bodies met, his finger encircling around my clit. I was pushed right to the edge, calling out his name as he called out mine. His hips faltered slightly as he filled me with his essence.

My head dropped to his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his chest. It took a while for either of us to move, the intensity of the moment catching up with us. Although, the last few days in general were catching up with me.

“I gotta clean you up,” Chip finally whispered after a moment. I swallowed roughly before I struggled to get off his lap.

“You really do want to have kids with me,” I laughed as we finally broke a part, “I mean, yeah I want kids too. But not for a while,”

“I told you, we gotta get to Iowa first,” Chip looked over at me as he got off the bed. When he noticed that I was a little nervous about that, he came over to my side, “We don’t have to go to Iowa,”

“No, no, I know… It’s just… The thought of leaving… And going with you. The other day was terrifying, with everything th-What if I just left?”

“I know you're nervous. You have every right to be nervous. If we leave, we can get as far from that place as possible. We can find a safe place and be safe… Together,” he knelt on the ground beside me. I looked down at him and nodded, “Besides, you had the most boring life in that stupid motel,”

“True, true,” I laughed and shook my head, “You’re not going to, like, murder me… Are you?” I looked at him as I carefully grasped his hand.

“No! I wouldn’t do that! After the shit I just said to you with my cock in you? You think I’d kill you?” Chip nearly fell back on the ground, causing me to laugh again. I smiled and nodded.

“Okay, I… I guess if the worst thing you’ll do to me is get me pregnant… Then I think I’m safe.” I looked at him with a small smile, “And that’s not even bad,” I shrugged as I looked at the bed in front of me.

“I won’t murder you if you won’t murder me,” he spoke, lifting his hand and showing me his pinkie. I looked back at him and nodded.

“Promise,” I whispered before interlocking my pinkie with his.

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