#but yeah. boys in dresses and skirts and bloomers. here we go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clemanime · 4 years

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Anything

After Luca beats someone up he returns home to her and the pair get into an argument.

A/N: Howdy. I’m doing things again... I learned 1920′s slang for this one.

WARNING: Smut, oral (female-receiving), arguments

The boy was bloodied and beaten in the warehouse, Luca and his men standing around him. “Now old boy I’m gonna have to make an example out of you.” He crossed his arms, stepping back. “Take him for a ride.” He patted the chest of one of his men and they made their move.

“What about you Boss?” One of his men asked. “No chasing skirts tonight?”

“Nah. No skirts for me.” He grabbed his jacket, putting it on and buttoning it. He pulled a toothpick from his pocket, placing it between his teeth and straightening himself up.

“Last he didn’t chase a Jane he turned out to be one of them Daddies.” He laughed with another one of Luca’s men. “We already told you about the gold diggers Luca. She could be a quiff for all you know.”

Luca stopped, looking at the pair as they laughed. He stepped towards them, hands in his pockets. “Wanna repeat that old boy?” He leaned forward, waiting for him to repeat it.

“I-It’s nothing Luca.” He said quickly.

“Thought so.” Luca nodded. “Now beat it. The both of yous.” He jabbed his thumb in the direction behind him, watching them walk away from him before leaving himself.

She stared at the lace on her coffee table, the cigarette she was smoking nearly finished. She had smoked two since finding the lace corset that didn’t belong to her. It had taken half a year for her to warm up to Luca, to fully consider the offer of being his lady. She never doubted him until now. The fact that he would ever cheat never crossed her mind.

She got up, having enough of her own thoughts, walking to her window that overlooked the busy city. She found herself missing her small town in this moment.

Luca opened the door to her apartment, smelling cigarettes instead of a meal. He moved in, closing the door behind him and locking it. “Y/n?” He expected her to be home. When he walked further in he saw her sitting by the window, with what was left of cigarette. “I didn’t know you smoked.” He said to her.

“Well at a time this I figured I’d start.” She didn’t look at him. “On that table over there are lace bloomers.”

“Why aren’t you wearing them?” He asked, a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t own lace bloomers Luca.” She finally looked at him, seeing the shock on his face as he looked between her and the lingerie on the table. “I gave you 6 months Luca. I proved I wasn’t a gold digger but you’re still here chasing skirts.”

“I’m not chasing skirts.” He said quickly.

“Coulda fooled me.” She as she stood up. “I don’t want beef with you Luca. Or the other Jane. So I’ll beat it so you can have your nookie.”

“Leave?” He questioned as he pulled the toothpick from between his teeth, getting in her way. “And go where? Back to that shithole?”

“That shithole is my home!” She yelled, jabbing her finger in his chest. “And if I had stayed I would be happier!”

“Happier?” He scoffed. “I give you dough and you want to cut and run.”

“You’re cheating on me with some other skirt! Don’t expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows about it!” She yelled, walking towards the room and grabbing her suitcase.

“You are not leaving me.” He said as he followed her into their room.

“I am my own woman! I will do what I want!” She grabbed her garments, shoving them into the case and slamming it close. Luca snatched the suitcase from under her hands and moving towards the window. He opened it and threw her things out the window. She rushed to him, pushing him out the way and looking out the window. “You asshole!” She yelled, pushing him.

“You’re not leaving me.” He said again, his hands gripping her shoulders. “You are ab-so-lute-ly not leaving.” He pressed her against the wall. “Open your hears Doll. Those laces are probably from the bird I threw out way before meeting you.” She scoffed. “There’s no one but you.” He held her chin between his fingers so that she could look at him. “Don’t think for a second I’ll ever replace you.”

“You expect me to trust you now?” She grabbed his wrist and moved it away from her face. “You’re a gangster. Gangsters can’t stick to one Jane.”

“I can. And I will.” He picked her up, holding her thighs. “I’ll do that thing you like.”

“Don’t try to convince me to stay with... that.” She said, narrowing her eyes

“It’s working then.” He smirked. He walked her towards the bed, pulling her dress up and crawling down her body. He pulled off her garments, opening her legs and diving in. She gasped, pushing her hands in his slicked back hair. He swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking on it. She shivered, her toes curling.

Luca smirked against her, feeling her juices flowing on his tongue. His large hands pushed against the back of her thighs, pushing them farther apart. She moaned her head falling back against the mattress. “Luca.” She shivered, his fingers pushing pass her wet folds and wiggling them. Her eyes rolled back as the tip of his tongue worked her bundle of nerves, sending her over the edge as quickly as he started. She relaxed, looking at him as he stood up.

He took his jacket off, undoing his pants as he kicked his shoes off. “Are you ready?” He questioned.

“For what?” She questioned, sitting up.

“A long night.” He moved towards her, climbing over her and looking into her eyes, kissing her. She stared at him as he pushed himself past her soaked folds. Her mouth fell open, her eyes screwing shut as he filled her. Without giving her time to adjust, he thrust into her relentlessly, their bed hitting the wall. She couldn’t contain her moans, letting them fall from her lips as pleasure coursed through her. She dug her nails into his skin, her legs beginning to shake as he hit her spot. “L-Luca!” She hollered, her back arching. “The neighbors!”

“Oh yeah? Worried about them are ya?” He kissed her, smashing his lips against hers as he slowed down. She whined at his agonizingly slow pace, wanting to say something but getting distracted by his tongue down her throat. The banging of the metal bed post stopped hitting the wall when he slowed down. She closed her eyes, moving her hips at a faster pace. “Aw what is it Doll?”

“Please Luca.” She whispered. “Faster.”

“Don’t leave me and I’ll do whatever you want Doll.” He cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb lightly tracing her bottom lip. She thought for a moment but his throbbing member distracted her.

“Luca please!” She moved her hips against his, wanting release.

His pace started slow again, teasing her as he gradually picked up. He pushed himself up, grabbing the back of her knees as he pounded her. Her index finger flew to her clit, Luca pushing it away and replacing it with his thumb. “Come on Doll. Let go.” He looked into her eyes as she tightened around him, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She tensed, hands gripping the sheets as he finished her off.

After her climax, Luca pulled out of her. Staring at her as she caught her breath, eyes still closed, expression relaxed. He moved towards her bathroom, running a warm bath for her and putting bubbles in. He picked her up, her eyes still closed as she groaned. “Let’s get in the tub Doll.”

“Let me sleep in my filth.” She grumbled, too tired to move on her own.

“You’ll sleep when you’re cleaned up.” He sat her naked form in the tub before climbing in behind her. She leaned against his chest, eyes still closed as Luca grabbed her sponge and slowly cleaned her.

“Pay for my schooling Luca.” She said softly.

“What?” His movement stilled.

“Get the wax outta your ears fella.”

“You can’t go to school.” He started cleaning her again.

“I wasn’t asking.”

“What's school to you anyways? What would you do?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Probably Mechanic. Or Scientist. Anything that beats babysitting.”

“You know women stay home and take care o-”

“I’m not gonna be your housewife Luca.” She sat up, looking at him. “I don’t want to be your trophy. I wanna accomplish stuff on my own. And you said that you’d do anything for me Luca.”

That was his plan. Knock her up when she was ready and let her stay home while he worked. But she just threw a wrench in it. Luca thought for a moment, sighing. “Alright.” He nodded. “But I’m going to knock you up.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, turning and relaxing her body against his.

“A dame going to school with the big boys.” Luca chuckled.

“What you scared for me?” She smiled when he kissed the top of her head.

“More scared of the Hell you’ll raise.”

#Luca x reader #Peaky Blinders #Luca Changretta x reader #Luca Changretta #smut #main masterlist

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arthurmorganthings · 5 years

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Surgeon and the Scientist.

Pairing: Javier x Painter!Femreader

Summary: “But don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups, and don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

Explicit Content: +18

Hands stained with tertiary colors and the soft bristles of your brush, you practiced realism with the help of Flat Iron Lake, Clemens Point offered you peace when you weren’t off doing chores for Miss Grimmshaw. Your tent filled with journals of rough sketches with studies you’d find upon each travel. The study of outlaws napping aimlessly in saloons, working girls reeling in potential clients—your favorite person of interest to draw was him.

Javier Escuella. His soft features enthralled you, when he played his guitar with such passion, beckoned you. Though you’d been riding with the Van Der Linde boys for quite some time, you hadn’t said much to him. Occasional hellos, and small talk perhaps—but a full fledged conversation? Never sparked. You craved interaction so bad, you started to think perhaps you weren’t his type after all.

You knew the type of man he was, the men he surrounds himself with. There were times he wouldn’t come back until the crack of dawn—Javier laid with women. Charming them with his native tongue, into the soft sheets he’d lay his head on.

Jealousy found you quickly, gripping the brush tightly as you paint the undertones of the sky. Perhaps it was a silly dream of yours, but someday you’d be a world renowned painter, with suitors from every continent feigning to see your beautiful art.

A girl could dream. But until that time, you’d continue to paint until your hands grow brittle, and weak. You sensed a body hover behind you, “What chu’ paintin’ there?”

Oh. It was Arthur. You pivot with your back foot as your hand still gripped at your brush, your easel wobbles. “Hello. Nothing too important, just figured I had some free time, so here I am.”

He chuckles, rubbing freshly trimmed beard. “You kiddin’ me? It’s beautiful—err, it’s like a picture.”

He always had such a way with words, or none at all. His quirkiness was apart of his cowboy charm. You laugh wholeheartedly. “Thanks. I suppose.”

“You got time to spare?”

You blink. “I mean I-“

“Have a drink with me.”

His forwardness came as a surprise, one drink wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

“I should put my easel away then.” You respond softly but Arthur beats you to it. Kentucky Burbon in his hand, you assume is from his Satchel. Handing it to you, you hesitantly take the liquor. The sharp smell of whiskey in filled your nostrils as you winced before taking a swig.

The taste was—well, repulsive to say the least as you return Arthur his bottle. “I can never get used to Burbon.”

He laughs, before taking his swig. “You and I both.”

You continue talk of the old days, when the gang was set on helping folk and less on the idyllic greed for money—it seems when Micah joined, was when the root of all the gang’s problems arised.

Two shots of bourbon became three, then four, then the whole bottle.

Throughout the day, you and Arthur tell tales of drunken banter such as today. It was wholesome. He’s like a big brother figure, you wished to spend quality time with but knew his role within the gang.

Arthur was their support, Hosea was the anchor.

Nightfall crept as the two of you sat near the campfire, the fire cackles as you hug your knees—thoughts of him flooding your mind. Javier had yet to return from his Homestead job with Sean, unless he was pent up in some hotel inside of a whore, they’d camped out somewhere—your cheeks flush at the thought of him doing things unimaginable.

Arthur senses your unease. “You okay kid?”

Your head perks up, staring into his. “It’s nothing.” Your words slur, dejectedly. “I’m just conflicte—Javie—shit, Arthur.”

He sees what’s going on now. “You like ‘im.” He states.

You wanted to slap yourself for setting yourself up for inevitable teasing, but you frown instead. “He doesn’t like me. I’m plain-looking, Javier likes exotic women, and I—well, I’m, me.”

Tears on the brim of coming out as Arthur sighs, “You must be a fool to sell yourself short. Javier is an even bigger fool.”

Before you can argue with him, the faint sounds of horseshoes grazing the mulch of the woods could be heard. Lenny, who was on watch calls, “Took y’all long enough to get back.” It was him.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as Javier hitched his horse. Arthur pats your shoulder reassuringly, “Remember what was said.” As he shuffles to his tent. Javier writes his name in the ledger before placing the undisclosed amount in he camp’s donation box. You felt like a lamb, watching as its prey nears closer.

Removing his clunky boots, Javier grabs his guitar from his tent before shuffling towards the campfire. He was surprised to still see you up, as most of the gang was either asleep or in town. You placed your chin onto your knees as your arms hugged the shins. Javier sits himself next you with his guitar.

A tense beat of silence ensued, almost awkward, but Javier had the first say, “You’re never up this late.”

“You aren’t ever at camp to begin with.” Thank god for the alcohol to enable your bold behavior. You would have never said something like this if you were in a sober state of mind. Javier sniggers, tuning his guitar. You took the time to observe how his fine fingers caress his guitar so smoothly. God, If only he’d do the same to you.

“Yeah well, duty calls my love.”

My love.

You suddenly felt a warm pool at your core. Javier was a man of many skills so it would seem. He strummed beautifully, the tunes releasing from his acoustic. He paused, glancing at you, causing you to look away smoothly before he could notice.

“How’s your painting coming along?” He inquired.

“It’s coming along well,” you respond sheeplishly. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I observed everything. “The drawings, how you stick your tongue out when you’re focused on the details of your paintings, how you look at me.” Your thighs squeezed together from underneath your skirt, Javier was no fool to know what he does to her.

He could never be with her, she was too good for him. But he’ll make her feel things she’s never felt before. Closing the distance from where he sat, wrapping his arm around you, Javier says,“I know that you’re mad at the man that I am, the life I lead.”

“I never said I was Javier. It’s just—I feel like a ghost to you, but I’m no fool to know that you sleep with women. And for the longest time ever, I asked myself—why couldn’t I be the one you have your way with?”

The alcohol was definitely taking its toll, what a story will this be in the morning. Javier’s expression was masked underneath his hat, but responds nontheless.

“Because I respect you too much to.”

You blinked, perplexed. “Javier, sleeping with said person shouldn’t equate the amount of respect you give someone. Dutch has his fair share of women but you hold him to such a high level.

“You shouldn’t speak on things you don’t know girl, it’s incessant.” He mumbles, throwing mini twigs he toyed with on the ground, into the fire.

“But I know, Javier.” You pause. “I know your type, I know you. Even if I’m invisible sometimes.”

You weren’t going to wait for his response, you simply removed yourself from his grasp, shuffling to your tent, near the lake. You opted for more privacy. It was larger than most, filled with old pieces and sketches scattered across the floor. Suddenly the flaps of your tent opened, causing your head to perk near the entrance. It was hard to see during the night but knew who it was.

Closing the flaps, Javier grabbed you by the neck softly. “You think you’re invisible to me?” He questions, his voice not the same from the fire, it was husky and deep. The callouses toying up and down your arm now filled with goosebumps.

“You would rather want me to fuck you like a whore instead? On your back like some working girl?”

Your innocent eyes widened at his crass language, the shift of character only turned you on more when his chest was against yours. Javier was short, but you was shorter by a few inches. His lips found the shell of your lobe.

“Come on. I want you to say it.”

“I, want you.”

He tightens his grip, illiciting a moan. You knew what he wanted you to say. Your soft fingers pressing at his hand. “I want you, to fuck me, like a whore.”

He chuckles. “On your knees then.”

You place yourself in front of him, knees kissing the ground you walked on as he unzips the seams. Your face flushed once graced with Javier’s girth—larger than you’d expect.

It’d be foolish to say he wasn’t a man that was well-endowed. His unconscious incompetence at times was rather amusing when observing him around camp. But when it came to laying with a man you’d yearned for.

This was completely different.

“Come on girl. His hand gripped at your cheeks, as he forced you to look up at him from your compromising position. “We don’t have all night.”

You waste no time taking his length into your mouth while staring up at him doe-eyed. The taste of precum ensued. Watching him groan before you brought a warmness to your stomach before staining your bloomers with an embarrassing amount of essence sure to show once they were removed. Nothing at this point in time mattered as you took him in some more. His pelvis thrusted forward as he gripped your locks of hair, forcing his cock down your throat—the movements followed continuously as you gagged.

Your eyes watered, saliva stained the sides of your cheek as he removed himself from your mouth to avoid from cumming. Javier did not want to miss his chance of getting to be inside of you. He growled, “Take these off.”

You followed suit, removing your plain blouse and skirt, followed by your chemise and bloomers. He pushes your onto the cart, on all fours. His thumb grazing your wet cunt with content upon touch.

You gasp, pulling at your lips softly as he rubs in circles.

“I’m gonna need you to keep quiet, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name as you nod, taking that as a confirmation. Once lined at your cunt, Javier sucks in a breath, the tightness of her walls would make any man groan in pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

You grip at the edge of the cot tightly, biting your lip, you wiggle your way further into his cock. He watches as it disappears and reappear again—it takes a lot out of him not to grab at your hips and fuck you. The squelching sound of your wet heap wasn’t making it any better either. It was embarrassingly loud it wouldn’t be a surprise if anyone from camp could hear the sounds of coitus.

Covering your mouth with your hands as Javier speeds up his pace by grinding his hips agains your back side, it grew difficult to stay quiet. How, when you wanted to let the world know the man of your dreams was fucking you with raw, unadulterated passion? The tiny squeals, and pants could only be heard by said lover as he lets out ragged breaths.

He whispered in your ear, “How bad do you want to cum?”

So goddamn bad. The precipice was near as you knit your brows together and nod in your mouth. Fearing the sounds that could come out of you removed them. He thrusts harder, his grunts increasing in volume while he pistons into your cunt—your face flushed, squealing into your palms while your body seeps into the cot.

“I said, how bad do you want to come?”

He wanted you to answer, in such a compromising position like this. You remove your hands briefly before replying, “So bad.” Your voice higher than last time as he grunts.

“Where do you want it?”

God if he was making her choose, she’d easily say inside. Despite what that may cause in the inevitable future.

“Anywhere, haaa.” She moans loudly, abosoloutly careless of her shameless inhibitions. Javier clasps his fingers across her mouth, digging at the cheeks—sighs of his own orgasm ensuing. His thrusts grew slopper, his jaw tightened with ragged breaths. Your walls convulsed before seeing white.

Eyes fluttering closed, mouth in a silent gasp as Javier’s seed fills your womb. You fall limp onto your cot before the overstimulating feeling of Javier remove himself from inside of you before adjusting himself back in his pantsuit.

A beat of silence followed, the only sound heard was the ragged breaths of both lovers. Feeling of realization hits you.

“Shit.” You curse. “I forgot, my canvas by the board walk. My paints are probably all dried out by now.”

“I’ll go get it for you. You get some rest.” Javier replies as he leaves for your tent. You call out to him before he does, causing him to turn around.

“Can we do this again?”

He smirks before pondering. “You know, my mom once said, don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups. And don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “The Surgeon? Javier what does this even m—“

“In due time, you’ll know.”

Upon his exit from the Tent, you lay back down onto your cot with a quilt covering your indecency, the line still engrained in your heart.

The surgeon, and the Scientist.

BTW THE SURGEON AND THE SCIENTIST IS MY FAVORITE LA DISPUTE SONG <3 FOR @famderlinde @jungle @mollyohshea 💗

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #me #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #lenny summers #sean macguire #clemens point #rdr 2 spoilers #lemon #reblog #yeaaah

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crossinginstyle · 5 years

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First Time Here? Chapter 3

Summary: A young Jamie meets a Sassenach, and Claire's friends wonder why she hadn't texted them after her date.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 3: Verra Good Morning

He couldn’t have known until he was older that he’d had a pretty unconventional childhood.

Where most kids’ lives revolved around school, after-school cartoons, and playgrounds, Jamie Fraser’s life had been quite different.

His school had been learning to muck stalls, drive tractors, shoe horses, and birth foals, all by the age of six. (And in between, of course, had been strict reading, math, history, and language lessons sat between his brother, sister, and neighbors, as opposed to the hour-long trip to the nearest schoolhouse.)

Lallybroch hadn’t gotten the gift of cable until his adult years, so little Jamie sought entertainment from playful foals, goats, dogs, and also from generally being a wee shite and pestering his siblings.

And his playground…his playground has been a pub.

Perhaps that was the most unusual of all. How many children spent half their lives in a smoky pub, mastering darts and pool and earning a whole college fund in tips just by delivering food to tipsy ladies and giving them his most charming, cheeky grin?

But he wouldn’t have traded his upbringing for the world. He was brought up in a fun, safe, secure world, sure in the knowledge that we was ever beloved by his parents, siblings, and family.

But much of that sureness and security was destroyed when Jamie was ten, when his mother and big brother were killed in a car accident on their way to the hospital to deliver Jamie’s new baby brother.

Jamie and his sister, Jenny had both been at the pub with their da and their godfather, Murtagh. Jamie’s mam had allowed Willie to drive only the distance to the pub to get da…something thirteen-year-old Willie had done a hundred times…because she was in labor.

It hadn’t been Willie’s fault. No, it was the fault of the tourist who thought he could navigate the mountains just fine after a six-pack of beer. The tourist had lived, but at least Jamie knew that the bastard would have to live his life knowing his choices had taken the life of a woman and two children.

For a while after that, Jamie was lost. Everything he’d known to be so had been altered.

The one thing Jamie had always been most certain about had been that William could do anything. He could ride half-wild horses, dive off cliffs into the loch, charm any girl with naught but a wink. And yet he would never leave Jamie behind.

Where many older brothers treated their little brother like the nuisances they were, Willie made sure Jamie was always included, and always protected. Willie had been Jamie’s role-model, confidant, and best friend. And Jamie had had visions of himself being the same for his new wee brother. And the pub. The pub was meant to be Willie’s, and half the farm would be Jamie’s, the other half Jenny’s. Jamie didn’t mind inheriting the pub, but he would have traded it for his brother in a heartbeat.

In the blink of an eye all of that assurance was gone, along with his beautiful mother and her warm embrace, all-knowing gaze, endless kisses, and musical laugh.

And his father…his father had just never been quite the same. But how could he be? He’d lost his first born child, and Ellen McKenzie had been the love of Brian’s life. Jamie had spent his young childhood seeing firsthand what true love looked like, and he knew that he would never be able to settle for anything less.

He couldn’t have possibly known how true that was until much later. It all began the night he met her.

He’d been all of seventeen, and had yet to hit his final growth spurt, so he was still gangly of limb, narrow of chest, a voice that still cracked on occasion, and worst of all a baby-smooth face that just refused to grow more than a fuzzy mustache.

Da called him a late-bloomer, and assured him that he would wake up one morning and it would be like the boy he’d been had simply vanished. Murtagh suggested that maybe he just took after his sister is all…and if Jamie could have gotten away would pommeling his godfather, he would have.

Every day after school Jamie would head straight for the pub, where he would hurry to do his homework before work. He still mostly bussed tables, cleaned floors, and served food and drink, same as he had since he was wee, but at least now Da and Murtagh had taken to teaching him how to make the drinks, and of course the ins and outs of business itself.

It was a slow night, as most Thursday nights were, but since the town did boast a small University, it wasn’t at all uncommon to find tired college students loitering about after the restaurants and cafes were closed.

It was one of such groups that Jamie had been ordered to keep an eye on. Bored college students were known to cause trouble once alcohol was involved, and of course they were all wary of anyone leaving the establishment three sheets to the wind with car keys in their hands.

But this group of five appeared fairly innocuous. In fact none of them had had more than one beer, mostly focused on steadily devouring their burgers and fries.

“Can I get ye anythin’ else?” he asked as he passed their table.

“Can you draw a diagram of the aortic valve?”

Jamie arched a brow down at the lass to his right, the one with all the hair who’d been sitting with her back to the bar all night.

But when Jamie saw her properly for the first time, he could have sworn his heart stopped.

To say she was bonny would have been a terrible understatement. He may have been only seventeen, but she was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Pearl-like skin, bonny wee freckles, full lips, and the most remarkable eyes…the very color of a fine whiskey.

Those eyes were staring at him, sparkling and full of mischief.

“Ignore her,” the lad sitting beside her said, laughing. “She’s just had it with test prep.”

“If I have to look at one more word tonight, I will explode,” the lass said. “Boom, aortic valve everywhere. And then my friends would have to double your tip for the mess it would make.”

“Leave him alone, Claire,” another lass said. “You’re embarrassing the kid!”

“Claire,” Jamie croaked, not having meant to…not aloud at least.

“That’s me,” she said, still grinning teasingly, but not in a way that Jamie felt made-fun of. “And what’s your name, good sir?”

Jamie gulped, willing his bloody brain to work damn it! He’d never been a fool around girls before, why the hell did he have to start now?!

“J…James,” he said at last, his voice blessedly unwavering. “James Alexander Malcolm McKenzie Fraser.”

The rest at the table laughed, except for her.

“That’s quite a distinguished name, James,” she said.

“Jamie, please,” he told her, mentally kicking himself for pretentiously offering his full name like that.

“Jamie,” she amended.

“Jamie,” Murtagh barked from behind the bar. “Ye gonna stand over there blathering or are ye gonna get to work?”

She still didn’t laugh as the others continued to, just grinned at him some more before turning back to his friends.

He didn’t think he’d ever see her again. Didn’t think he was that lucky. But the next Friday she was there, with the same friends as before. Only instead of jeans and a t-shirt; the standard wear for tired college student, she was dressed in a blue skirt and white blouse and it was all Jamie could do to keep his eyes in his head where they belonged.

Unlike Thursdays, Fridays were very busy, so Jamie could only glimpse her from time to time as she laughed with her friends, drank an impressive amount of whiskey, and slaughtered the lads at darts.

He knew she wouldn’t talk to him. And he wasn’t about to go say hi only for her not to remember him at all. But to his surprised, he looked up from wiping a glass to find her leaning on the other side of the bar, that same wee grin on her face.

“Hello, Jamie!” she chirped.

“H…hello,” he stammered. “Ye remember me?” Idiot!

“School hasn’t fried my brain that much,” she laughed. “I swear though I desperately wanted to come over here and recite your full name but I chickened out. Afraid I’d butcher it.”

Jamie laughed. “Ah, dinna fash. I would have let ye think you’d gotten it right either way.” Oh. Not bad. Much better, at least.

Her nose wrinkled adorably, giving him the ridiculous urge to kiss it. “Dinna fash? I have to say that’s not one I’ve heard before.”

Jamie blushed. “Oh, aye. It’s a bit old fashioned, but my godfather says it all the time. It only means don’t worry.”

“Ah,” she nodded solemnly. “Hakuna Matata.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Aye, more or less. Ye’re clearly no’ from here.”

“No,” she admitted. “I’m from Oxford originally, but my uncle went to school here. He moves around for work a lot, but I liked the idea of carrying on his legacy by attending here.”

“You live wi’ your uncle then?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she looked away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My parents died when I was small. He raised me.”

Jamie winced in sympathy. “My mam died when I was young. It doesn’a leave ye.”

“No,” she agreed, smiling again. “What about you? Are you in university here?”

Jamie inwardly groaned, face surely flushed as red as his damned hair. “Uhh…no, I’m um…S6. Final year of secondary.”

She nodded. “Are you going to go to university here?”

Every fiber of his being wanted to tell her yes. He had sudden, vivid images of them in university together, her showing him the ropes, he her willing pupil…

“No,” he admitted at last. “I’ve already been accepted tae Oxford.”

Her eyes widened. “Impressive! Congratulations! It’s like we’ll be switching places!”

He grimaced. Why was the universe so cruel? “Aye, now I’ll be th’ Sassenach.”

Claire paused and narrowed her eyes. She didn’t look that serious, but it still gave Jamie a bit of a chill, and he hoped never to be on the other end of her true anger.

“Are you calling me a Sassenach?” she said. “Because I have been called that and I am aware that it isn’t complimentary.”

“It only means that’s you’re English!” Jamie protested. “Or at worst, an Outlander. And ye are.”

“Does it now?” she said suspiciously. “Well, I suppose I am at that.”

“Claire!” one of her friends called. “What are you doing? It’s your turn at the board!”

“Better go,” she said. “See you around…” she narrowed her eyes again. “James Alexander Malcolm McKenzie Fraser.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, just impressed that she really had remembered.

“See ye around,” he said as she turned to walk away. “Sassenach.”

She spun back around on her heels, shooting him a playful middle finger, then disappeared in the crowd.

“Get that tongue back into your head, boy,” his Da said, sidling up beside him and slapping him on the back. “Ye look like a mongrel.”

Jamie smiled sheepishly. “Do I have tae go to Oxford?” he said, only half joking.

Brian rolled his eyes, and slapped Jamie on the back again. “You’re going to Oxford. There’ll be plenty of bonny lasses for you tae chase once you’re there.”

Jamie figured his father was right. But would any lass be like her?

I rolled over with a moan, shoving impatiently at my quilt. It was hot! Why was it so…oh…

When my hand came into contact with someone else’s skin, my eyes flew open.

At first all I could see was a tangled mixture of curling hair; dark brown and red. And then I moved my own mess of hair out of the way and could finally see Jamie’s face, relaxed in sleep.

For a long moment I just stared at him. He looked unbearably sweet and young, and when I slowly reached over to brush the hair out of his face, his lips quirked up in a smile.

I rolled back over onto my back and sighed, trying to stretch my limbs without disturbing him. I was aching in the best possible way, but otherwise felt boneless and deliciously debauched.

I’d slept with Jamie Fraser. No, more than that, I’d taken the virginity of Jamie Fraser. It had been impulsive in the extreme, totally unlike myself, and yet I didn’t regret it in the least. On the contrary, I couldn’t wait to do it again.

I looked back over at him, at his chest as it rose and fell, at the sheet that draped over his lower half, but doing nothing to conceal the little…well, not so little…morning issue.

My brain ran through several different scenarios. I could wake him with a kiss…slowly coax him to wakefulness and hopefully draw his attention. Or…

Smirking to myself I grabbed hold of the sheet and slowly pushed it down, careful not to wake him. He shifted at the sudden feeling of cold air on his lower extremities and I paused until he settled back into sleep.

Once he had, another dreamy smile on his face, I inched down the bed, letting myself admire the part of him that was most definitely awake already, standing proud in the early morning sunlight.

I lightly ran my fingers up the length of him, watching him twitch in mindless interest. I’d never much cared for this particular act with Frank. It had always been uncomfortable and awkward. He’d loved it of course, but he disliked reciprocating, so oral sex was just something we didn’t do.

So it baffled me that I so desperately wanted to do it for Jamie. He’d probably received it before, he wasn’t a monk after all, but I doubted he’d ever been awoken that way.

Jamie’s breathing was starting to become less even, so I knew he would be waking soon. Leaning up, I first pressed a kiss to the tip before opening my mouth and sinking down over him, hollowing my cheeks.

He woke with a gasp, his entire body going rigid before relaxing just as suddenly, a sleepy hand landing heavily on my head.

“Sassenach,” he whispered. “What…”

I pulled away just long enough to shush him, then got back to work, stroking the parts of him my mouth couldn’t cover with my hand.

“Christ,” he hissed, followed by a string of Gaelic that impressed me. I hadn’t known that many people spoke it fluently anymore.

His fingers wound themselves into my hair, but he didn’t try to control the motion of my head, only clung to me like a lifeline, and I loved the slight sting where he pulled accidentally.

“Claire,” he breathed. “I’m goin’ tae…”

It was at this point I would have normally moved away, finishing him with my hand. But with a mental shrug and a fuck it, I sucked harder instead, shocked by the way the feeling and taste of him finishing in my mouth sent shockwaves of pleasure right to my core.

I released him was a satisfying pop and crawled back up to lie beside him, grinning smugly.

“Good morning,” I said, playfully circling one of his nipples with the tip of my finger.

“Verra good,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. “That was…I…um…is it right tae thank ye?”

I laughed and cuddled into his side. “Well, it doesn’t hurt.”

He grinned and rolled over, pinning me beneath him. “Thank ye. And I suppose now it’s your turn, aye?” he started to kiss his way down my chest, and the idea wasn’t an unfavorable one, but I thought about the way Frank recoiled with a grimace, or the boy I’d dated in high school who had tried but had given up when it took too long for me to relax enough to let it feel good.

I knew Jamie would be much sweeter than that, but I just didn’t think I was quite ready to open myself up that much.

“Hmm, maybe later,” I said, making sure to smile so he wouldn’t think I was just being nice. I grabbed his face between my hands and dragged him back up to my face for a kiss, and I must have had it bad since even his morning breath didn’t bother me.

“But…” he muttered against my mouth, and I grabbed his hand before he could argue and brought it between my legs.

This was something Jamie knew how to do, and do well, so he did it with abandon. His large, callused fingers sank inside me while his thumb pressed against the side of my clit, making me buck and write against him. All the while he was no doubt leaving marks up and down the column of my neck, until his lips fastened around my nipple, and I’d never even realized just how sensitive I could be there.

I latched onto Jamie shoulder with my teeth, hoping to leave a mark of my own, and whimpered as my orgasm washed over me long and hard.

He stroked me gently through the aftershocks, then pulled me tightly into his embrace before we both dozed off into very satisfied sleep.

When I awoke again it was mid-morning, and there was an annoying tapping sound that just didn’t seem to want to stop.

I opened my eyes, face-to-face with Jamie’s chest. He was still sound asleep, and I couldn’t fight a smile at the knowledge of just how cuddly he was in sleep.

The tapping sound started again and I sighed when I realized finally that it the door, and it also didn’t sound like they were giving up any time soon.

“It’s my day off,” I whispered in annoyance, gently detangling myself from Jamie’s grasp so I could roll out of bed. Whoever it was, they were still knocking, so I hurriedly patted around for something to put on, unearthing Jamie’s wrinkled button down shirt from among the tangle of blankets. I smirked as I put it on, checking to make sure it covered everything before tip-toing out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I snatched up my phone first, which had been left on my coffee table, and rolled my eyes with a groan. Seven missed calls, and eighteen text messages from both Joe and Louise, which at a glance seemed to contain the same general sentiment of YOU NEVER CALLED AFTER YOUR DATE, ARE YOU ALIVE?!

It was absolutely no surprise at all to glance out the peephole to see Joe on the other side of the door, so I rolled my eyes again and opened it.

“Damn it, Lady Jane!” Joe exclaimed as soon as the door opened. “Louise and I have been trying to get ahold of you since last night! You know the rules; you go on a date with a new guy, you check in afterwards! I’ve been worried sick!”

My shoulders slumped. “God, Joe, you’re right, I’m so sorry. I left my phone on silent and I just didn’t think about it.”

Joe looked me up and down, seeming to finally register my apparel, and he chuckled in amusement. “Well, you clearly look well. More than well…I daresay you look well laid. Good, job, Lady! I take it the date went well!” he glanced over my shoulder into the apartment. “Shit, is he still here?”

“Actually, the date was a bust,” I said, leaning against the doorjamb.

Joe frowned in confusion. “Really? What, was it a wham, bam, thank you ma’am?”

I laughed, grimacing even as I did so. “God, Joe! Who says that?! I didn’t bring Garrett home. He was a prick.”

“Then what…”

“Sassenach, are ye…”

Jamie trailed off, and I turned around to find him standing like a deer in the headlights outside my bedroom door, thankfully wearing boxers. “Oh…hey Joe,” he said nervously.

“HEY JAMIE!” Joe exclaimed loudly, his mouth open in a goofy grin and his eyes wide and sparkling before they flicked back to me, so alight it looked like he’d just seen a fairy.

I smiled wryly at him. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for checking on me Joe, and I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“No problem!” Joe said, backing out of the doorway. “NONE at all! You two just…carry on, and I’ll talk to you later, Lady Jane. Bye Jamie, see you later!”

“Bye Joe,” Jamie said bemusedly as I closed the door. “Sorry, lass,” he said, wincing.

I chuckled. “Don’t be, I’d have told him later either way. Wasn’t quite expecting him to react like that though.”

“He looked…well he didn’a look mad, at least.”

I laughed. “No. And just wait.”

“Wait for what?”

I leaned back against the door and held up my phone so he could see the screen, and ticked my fingers off with my other hand, three, two, one…

My phone buzzed repeatedly as text after text lit up the screen in rapid succession.

Jamie came closer so he could see the screen.

“From Louise,” he read aloud. “Omg Claire, Joe just fucking told me that you fucked Jamie Fraser from the bar is this true…” he chuckled and read the next one. “Erm, that’s just a bunch of random letters, and bitch you better text me back before you go back to screwing Mr. Hot Highlander. How could you do this and not tell me? What the fuck took so long…”

I laughed and turned the phone off before tossing it onto the couch. “I’ll text her back later.”

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #first time here?#Jamie x Claire #moodboard credit to #sassy-sassenach

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a-bau-tiful-mind · 7 years

Text

Insecurity (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Hello lovebugs! I really want to ride the wave of writing inspiration, so here’s another fill! Anon wanted “Reader and Reid do it for the first time but the reader has a small chest and it's her first time so she is really nervous” and I hope this delivers! Unbeta’d! JSYK It does deal with some self-image issues and mentions of bullying. Fluffy smut warning!

Spencer Reid: I’m finishing up the paperwork, I should be over within the hour and then we can get dinner. I can’t wait to see you.

You sighed at the sweet message, both in infatuation and worry. This was your six month anniversary and your relationship was in that weird limbo where you should have taken it to a more physical level already, but you would always claim you weren’t ready. Spencer knew you were a virgin and even though he wasn’t, he would never even fathom pressuring you, but you felt the pressure yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have sex with Spencer, if you were honest with yourself you thought about at least twelve times a day - but who’s counting?

You trusted Spencer with all your heart and you’ve never been in love like this before. You were just scared. Scared to bare your body to anyone besides yourself. Scared to make that big leap. Despite knowing better, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of your virginity and the power society puts on it.

You fixed your hair in the mirror and took off the bathrobe, you grabbed your best push-up bra and hooked it on. It was your go-to date night bra, your chest was the feature you were most insecure about. You never felt like a woman, in the mirror you saw your breasts as barely there at all. Back in high school, the locker room was a nightmare mean girls would tell you the boy’s locker room was on the other side of the gym and throw tissues at you so you could stuff. Back then you listened to your mom when she said some ladies are late bloomers, and at 26 you now knew this was the body you were dealt with. It didn’t mean you had to be 100% happy with it. You adjusted your breasts as best you could so they’d sit on top of the padding, creating the illusion that they were fuller.

The more you dwelled on it, the more you knew you wouldn’t want to go out and enjoy the night. You did your best to compartmentalize your self-deprecating thoughts and finish getting ready.

By the time you put your heels on, you head a light knock on your apartment door. Spencer was waiting on the other side with your favorite flowers, “Hey.” You grabbed the flowers from him and he gave you a once-over, “Wow. You look stunning.”

Your cheeks heated at the compliment, “Thanks, babe. You remembered my favorite flowers. Thank you so much.” “I remember everything you say.” He smiled.

“Eidetic memory. Right.” You chuckled, shrugging on your coat and hanging the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

“Even if I didn’t have the brain I do, I’d try especially hard to remember everything I could about you. I love you.”

A rush of genuine emotion fell over you, you were grateful to have Spencer be your first, real love. Sure, you dated in the past, but you never let anyone in like you did with Spencer.

He snapped you out of your mini-trance, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You smiled as he took your hand in his light grip. When you first started dating, you mistook the way he held your hand or hugged you as hesitance. Your anxieties told you it was because he didn’t want to really touch you. In actuality, when you brought it up to him, he told you he held you so gently because you were the most important thing he could call his, he didn’t want to mess it up by being careless. He handled you like you were a precious artifact at a museum he knew the ins and outs of.

Dinner went on without a hitch, luckily he only had paperwork for the day so he didn’t have any heavy horror stories of the FBI to share. You guys wined, dined, and reminisced about the last six months. It felt both like the six month mark came so quick and that you’ve been together for much longer than just half a year.

There was a comfortable lull in conversation during dessert and you just allowed yourself to fixate on him. His beautiful face, his soft mess of curls, everything about him was amazing to you. You couldn’t believe he settled for you. You just allowed yourself to let, “I love you,” slip from your lips.

“I love you, too,” He said, taken aback slightly from your outburst. But you waited a beat and that smile broke out on his face. Just like clockwork. You’d do anything to see that smile everyday. He signed the check, “Are you ready to get out of here?” There it was, the first loaded question you weren’t sure you were ready for, still you smiled, “Yeah, let’s go.”

You got into his vintage Volvo and buckled your seatbelt. You turned your body and rested the side of your head on the back of the seat, fondly staring at your boyfriend’s profile. You could almost see the words on the tip of his tongue, “Did you, maybe, want to go back to my place?”

There was question two. You told yourself. Now or never, Y/N. “Sure, Spence. That sounds good.”

“We can watch a movie or something.” You almost snorted out loud. Even the genius FBI wonder uses the Netflix and Chill excuse.

“Let’s do it,” You said, smugly, knowing the words had a double meaning.

You two pulled into his apartment and made your way up the stairs. Your heart was racing with each step, but you had a plan. You’d make sure the lights were off before your clothes were and you’d redirect his hands if he got too close to your chest. You took of your coat, purse, and heels at the door and followed Spencer onto the leather couch.

He put on a movie you barely payed attention to and relaxed as his fingers absentmindedly ran through your hair. Spencer was too much of a gentleman to initiate things, and you wouldn’t blame him if he were stalling because he didn’t want to get shot down again, so you leaned up from his shoulder and kissed him. He wasn’t going any farther than making out so you broke away from him and asked, “Can we go to your room?”

“Are you sure?” He asked, you knew it wouldn’t be the first time tonight.

You gave yourself a second to process. Yes. You were sure. You gave him a confident nod and said, “Yes, I’m sure.”

You trailed behind him into his neat room and he turned on the side table lamp, giving the room a warm, orange glow. It was far too bright for your plan, but you allowed it for now. You laid down on the bed, and watched Spencer who was standing at the foot unbuttoning his purple dress shirt. When his shirt was off he paused to grab a box of condoms from his dresser, still in the Target bag.

You couldn’t help but tease him a little in fake shock, “Spencer Reid, did you plan on me throwing myself at you?”

He smiled as he opened the box and grabbed a foil wrapped contraceptive and placed it by the lamp, “Hoped, not planned. Been hoping, actually.”

“And here I thought you loved me for my mind,” You pressed, dramatically looking away in feigned hurt.

“I absolutely do,” he assured, “But when your mind is such a turn on for me, it makes it rather difficult to remain gentlemanly.”

You felt your thighs clench slightly at his change in demeanor. It felt out of the ordinary to have Spencer in this setting, but you’d be damned if you say you regret being there you thought to yourself as you saw him pull his leather belt from the loops of his now tented slacks.

“Spencer,” You couldn’t stop the whine in your voice, “come here.”

He walked towards you, unbuttoning his jeans and separating the zipper. He let his black pants fall at his ankles before he stepped out of them and propped himself over you on the bed. He leaned down to kiss you, deeply. His tongue swiping at your lip for entrance. You let your hands wander, spreading out across his back and gripping his neck. He sat back on his knees and lifted your dress slowly, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you sat up, leaned over to turn off the light, and took your dress off before you could see Spencer’s reaction. The room was close to pitch black. You unhooked your padded bra and dropped it on the floor so it’d be ready for you to grab when Spencer fell asleep.

Spencer caressed your sides softly, making you shiver. His hands skirted over your ribcage which set off an alarm in your head, you grabbed his wrists and moved them down to your panties, hoping he’d just assume you were eager.

He dragged your damp panties down your soft thighs and long legs, you were surprised at how secure you felt when his digits made their way to your untouched center. You gasped as one hand circled your clit slowly, deriving pleasures you had yet to experience before. His other hand ghosted up your side again, going for your breast. You caught his hand in yours before he could grab you and intertwined your fingers moaning, “Fuck, Spencer. . . “

He continued with his foreplay, mapping out the sweet spots throughout your body. He payed particular attention to your neck. You panicked as he dipped his head down and kissed at your collar bones. You didn’t account for this. How would you redirect him smoothly. You grabbed his face and brought him back up for another kiss. Unfortunately, he was stiff and broke away. You brought up the sheet to cover you as he turned on the light.

“Y/N,” he began with concern in his voice, “Do you not want to do this? It’s totally fine if you don’t, believe me. I’m sorry if I pushed you.”

You couldn’t help but feel like crying, “Spencer, it’s not that. It’s just. . .” “What’s wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable? Let me know what I can do to help you.”

“Go be with someone with a better body,” You murmured, a single tear falling from your lashes.

“What?” Spencer’s voice sounded broken, “Y/N, that’s the last thing I want to do. You’re beautiful. Every part of you.”

“Stop, Spencer,” you said, letting your emotions flow full force. You pulled the sheet tighter to your body and stared down at your flat chest, “You’re a man, you should be with someone who looks like a woman and not someone puberty skipped.”

“Y/N, look at me,” he said and you stared into his sad eyes with guilt, “You are the most amazing, sexiest, smartest woman I know. I don’t want some lingerie model.”

“But you could have that, you could have anything you want. You’re Spencer Reid. I just don’t get why you want me.” While you were being honest, you guess. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“I don’t want any of that,” he said grabbing your hand as tenderly as he did when he took you to dinner, “I want you, Y/N. I wish you’d believe me. One of the sexiest things about you is your confidence, and it hurts me to see it broken. I want you to love yourself as much as I love you, and if you’d let me, I’d like to show you just how much.” He broke the heavy emotions with a cheesy wink.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him attempt to make you smile, “I think I’d like that.”

“Good. May I leave the light on?” He asked, when you nodded he grabbed the sheet you let go from your grip, “Now, where were we?” He laid you down and pulled the sheet away, getting a look at your naked form in the light, “That’s right, I was just about right here,” He kissed down your collar bone, leaving a kiss on the small swell of your breast, finally capturing your hardened nipple between his teeth causing you to gasp.

“Spencer, oh my God.” You whispered, allowing yourself to get lost in the pleasure of his actions. His hand was make quick work of your opening, his long fingers felt so good inside you.

“You’re absolutely stunning,” He said, removing his fingers from your sex, causing you to whine at the loss of stimulation.

All of that went out of the window when he stared in your eyes and tasted your wetness from his hand, his eyes closing for a second to savor your taste. It was by far one of the hottest things you’ve seen. You grabbed at his neck and kissed him deeply, allowing your hands to wander towards his boxer briefs which were slightly damp at the tip of his erection. “Can I?” You asked, timidly, wanting to give him the same respect he’s been giving you.

“Please,” he said his voice gruff and strained. His voice normally was enough to send you into a pit of never ending sexual frustration. This? This made you feel like you were about to combust.

You slid his boxer briefs down his legs and freed his long, aching erection. You instinctually grabbed him, causing him to groan into your ear. You moved your hand up and down his shaft, slowly, getting familiar with him.

You tightened your grip slightly and kept your movements, he groaned a little sharper and grabbed your wrist you froze, “Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby,” He explained, his voice still doing a number of things to your insides, “You’re too much for me, I need to be inside you. Now.”

The urgency in his voice sent another wave of heat through you, settling in the already present knot in your stomach. You grabbed the condom off the table and opened it. You slid it down Spencer’s shaft as his breath hitched.

He kissed you again, pulling away to ask, “Are you ready?”

You nodded and kissed him back, you leaned into his ear and whispered, “Take me, Spencer.”

He aligned himself with your dripping center, slowly entering you. The stretch burned as your body adjusted to his. You gasped at the sharp pain but after a while, it subsided. Spencer kept whispering in your ear, “You’re so beautiful, you feel so good around me. . .”

Once the initial pain subsided, all you felt was the delicious friction of Spencer’s movements. You moved your hips in time with his, causing him to reach deeper into you, hitting your G-spot causing the knot in your stomach to tighten with every thrust. Your cheeks felt flushed and your mind was racing as you felt yourself near the edge, “Oh, God, Spencer. I’m close.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, thrusting even faster than before, “I’m almost there, baby.”

He kept thrusting as deep as he could, bring you to orgasm with a shout of his name. He followed shortly after, releasing into the condom and riding out his high. Spencer rested his sweaty forehead against your, his chest meet rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. He let himself fall to your side on the pillow next to you, removing the condom and discarding it in the bin next to the bed.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you turned to lay on your side, brushing his damp hair away from his forehead.

“I think I should be thanking you,” he started, “Because. Wow.”

You laughed and pushed him playfully, “Thank you for loving me, and teaching me how to love you better.”

“Thanks for loving me back with all your beauty, Y/N.” He smiled sweetly as his eyes drooped and his blinks lasted longer and longer.

You kissed his forehead and settled into the bed, falling asleep against Spencer’s chest, his heart lulling you.

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