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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 years

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rooster jealousy fic 🥵🥵🥵

I want all of them

this probably isn’t what you imagined BUT it takes place in an eventual universe where bradley and smart aleck have kids. and yes in my dreams bradley goes as ted lasso for his first halloween with smart aleck and it kinda evolves into peewee soccer coach bradley bradshaw when they have kids since his girl digs it so much (it’s the fucking mustache i stg) - enjoy???

ask prompt

"Did you see that? You saw that, right?"

Bradley sputtered, frantically pointing across the soccer field to where you were chatting with Max's dad, Zach.

Fucking Zach. Bradley hated Zach. And his stupid crisp button downs and his smarmy face and his shiny loafers and his ridiculous fucking Shelby Cobra that was in no way safe for a child to ride in, unlike Bradley's family-friendly Land Rover. Plus, his son, Max, was a biter.

But more importantly, Bradley hated the way Zach got so close to you to talk about emerging markets or stock options or some shit like that. Fucking prick.

Beside him, Gil frowned. "See what? Mommy?"

"Yes, mommy," he sassed the five year old, not taking his eyes off you from behind his aviators. Wait, was he - no, he did not just put his hand on -

"- TWEEEEEEEEEET," Bradley blew the whistle hanging around his neck, causing his small battalion of five year olds to immediately freeze where they were aimlessly running on the field. If it also caused Zach to retreat his hand from where it was about to touch your arm then that was just a happy coincidence.

"Alright," Coach Bradshaw clapped his hands together a couple times, rounding up the troops, "good job today everyone - especially you, Maddie S, that flower crown looks dynamite on you, wanna see that energy on Saturday for our game against the Yellow Frogs, alright?"

Maddie S preened under the praise, while the rest of the kids nodded seriously. "We gotta keep that defense tight - that means no getting distracted by Jacob R, okay Emily? Yeah, heard about you at nap time the other day, little grabby for kindergarten, I think? That being said, I think Mrs. Armstrong brought orange slices and apple juice if you all want to head over for your snack - "

They dispersed without another word, except Gil, who was drawing what Bradley thought was a - dinosaur? a dog? he didn't really know - on his play whiteboard. He hazarded a glance across the field to see that you still were talking to Zach. God, your ass looked fucking perfect in your work skirt. How the hell you weren't sinking into the grass with those heels of yours?

"Hey, buddy?" Gil looked up. "Why don't we pack up all this stuff and go get mommy? Think she's talking to Max's dad..."

Gil made a face. “I don’t like Max -”

“- Well, I don’t like his dad,” Bradley muttered, hoping Gil didn’t hear, but the little boy giggled.

The two Bradshaw men made quick work of picking up all the cones and practice pinnies and tossing them into a mesh bag along with the five or so soccer balls. Gil tried to carry the bag, but ended up dragging it, so Bradley picked it and Gil up and made his way across the field to you. The kid was too old to be picked up, but it made getting over to you quicker - Gil had short legs.

While Bradley and Gil had been cleaning up, Emily K’s dad, Adam, had joined Zach’s little tete-a-tete with you. Of course, none of them had their kids with them. Fucking typical. Emily was probably aimlessly walking around with orange juice dripping on her cleats. Bradley scowled as he approached the group, while Zach tossed him a quick wave.

“Hey, Brad.” Bradley fucking hated being called Brad.

“Hmmm, hi.”

You turned around at the sound of his voice and a huge smile lit up your face once you saw Bradley and Gil.

“Mommy!" Gil squirmed in Bradley’s arms until he put him down, wanting to be let go.

“Hey, little man!” You ran your hands through Gil’s hair as he latched onto your legs in a hug. Suddenly, Bradley was jealous of his five year old and he gave you a longer than probably appropriate for six o’clock on a Tuesday kiss.

“Did you see me? I scored a goal!” Gil exclaimed, dancing on the spot.

You shot a quick glance over towards Bradley to double check. He nodded slightly, knowing you hadn’t seen that part of practice - and not because Zach and Adam had been monopolizing your time.

“Of course, I did! Amazing, as always, did daddy teach you that?” Gil giggled and then burrowed his face in the hem of your skirt when he realized there were two other men standing there.

Bradley took a step back towards you, resting his hand on the small of your back. You leaned into him and gave him a quick smile. “Zach was just talking about setting up a playdate with Gil next week - and then Adam thought maybe Emily could come over, too?”

Absolutely fucking not. The ink on Zach’s divorce papers was barely dry and Adam was - well, Adam wasn’t too bad and he probably had just wanted to see if Emily could have a playdate with Gil. They were in the same class, after all. And she wasn’t a biter. Even if she was a little handsy.

Bradley clicked his tongue. “You know, I think G-man’s a little booked up next week? We got a birthday party and then we’re gonna see Papa at the base.”

Gil looked up at him and his entire face lit up even though they were doing nothing of the sort - well, at least not yet. Clearly, when Bradley called Mav later, he would understand and extend the invite.

“Ahhh bummer. We were just exchanging numbers,” Zach nodded towards you, “so, maybe we can do something the week after?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said politely, “maybe next - ahh - week?”

Zach and Adam frowned at your sudden exclamation, but what they hadn’t seen was Bradley slide his hand underneath the waistband of your skirt and lace panties and dig his fingers into the top of your ass. Or the way he started drawing little circles with the pads of his fingers and dragged his nail down your spine. You swallowed.

He could see the goosebumps rising on your arms. Thankfully, your backs were both to the field and not the mass of parents and five year olds eating oranges.

“We uhh, we can work out the details on - Satur-day?” you stuttered out as Bradley dug his fingers into a rather sensitive knot on your back.

“Sure, that’s fine...guess we’ll see you two around then?”

Bradley smiled at the two men for the first time since the conversation had started, but his good mood was more attributed to your slightly heaving chest, which he had perfect view of thanks to his height advantage. “Have a good night.”

With a brief glance back at the three of you, the two men set off to find their children - which they should have been keeping an eye on in the first place. Bradley retracted his hand.

You bit your lip and glanced up at him. “So, Coach Bradshaw, you gonna make me stay after practice for some one-on-one training? Promise I’ll try harder..."

“Nah, I got you booked for a private session later.” He leaned forward and kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist, while you clasped yours around his neck. God, you smelled so pretty - he’d take you on the goddamn soccer field right now if there weren’t about twenty parents and five year olds around them.

Bradley only came back to himself and pulled away when he felt a slight tug on his joggers. He looked down at Gil.

“Daddy? Can we get ice cream since I scored a goal? Please?”

A wicked smile crept across your face. “Yeah, daddy, can we get ice cream?”

Bradley threw back his head and groaned. God, you were fucking killing him tonight. He shot Gil an amused look. “If you can carry this bag,” he nodded towards the mesh bag at his feet, “all the way to the car, then we can get ice cream.”

Gil considered this and then grabbed the bag with his little hands. “Okay, I can do it! I can do it!”

The two of you laughed watching him slowly drag the bag across the grass and towards the parking lot. Bradley threw his arm around your shoulders pulling you close.

“So, Max’s dad, huh?”

“Hmmm.”

“What do you mean hmmmm! I could see him making eyes at you from all the way across the field -”

“- He was not!” you protested.

Bradley snorted. “And you just happened to wear that tight little skirt to come to practice, huh?”

“Noticed that, did you - Gil, wait until your father and I catch up before going into the parking lot!” You glanced back up at Bradley. “I like when you get jealous, bubs, it’s cute -”

“- Cute!” He scoffed. “Hardly -”

“- Well, I suppose that’s not true, you were practically groping my ass on the field - isn’t that a Title IX violation or something?”

Bradley groaned. “Sweetheart, at least wait till we get home to start the dirty talk.”

“I make no promises - coach.” You winked and then walked ahead to meet Gil, shaking your hips with every step. “I’ll take Gil to Dairy Queen and we can meet you at home?”

Bradley stopped by his car. “You want ice cream, too?”

You turned around and scrunched your nose. “Not really, I actually have other plans in mind for dessert tonight...” Bradley groaned. “See you at home, daddy.”

thanks for reading x

prequel (ish)

#you're probably thinking - 'why the fuck did you name him gil?'#well this was the most ridiculous name sol and i came up with and now i'm oddly attached to it #i don't like the whole 'harry potter let's name our kids after people who died' thing so yeah #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley and smart aleck #top gun #writing #asks #bradley fic

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signedkoko · 3 months

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Hihihihi! Can I get a parental/platonic parent matchup for hazbin hotel?

Im a cancer, around 14-15 years of age, and have short brown hair. I'm around 4'9-5'6 ft.

Around people I don't know I'm super nice and kind, usually complimenting my my way into a friendship with most people. I like to draw and read horror book, (I.E coraline, the man in the basement, dread end, etc).

I am mostly known around school as a kid who gives most of the time, buying goods for kids who can't at lunch, sitting with lonely kids, etc. I try my best to stay out of fights, and most times I don't initiate them.

At home, however, I can be loud and tired at the same time. I'll be like: "SO GUESS WHAT HAPPENED AT SC- I'm tired ima go nap" and I'm also the peacemaker of the family, being the youngest.

My fashion usually varies from vampire goth to grunge. I mostly wear vampire goth outside of home, but at school I wear grunge cuz if I wear vampire goth I'll get bullied.

Thats all! I'm sorry if I didn't provide enough info! Make sure to take care of yourself ♡

You got…Emily | Carmilla | Vox!

Your best friend is Emily! Ever since the two of you met, you've always gotten along. She really likes your drawings and tries to read what you read, but she finds them a bit scary and will usually depend on you summarizing things for her so she doesn't have to go through any of the gruesome parts. She is probably very scared and very intrigued with Coraline.

Emily agrees that you are one of the sweetest people she's ever met; she never feels judged around you and always gets her thirst for adventure quenched with all the media you show her. Your style is so cool to her, she might even ask if you can help her do some gothy vampire looks.

Expect quite serene days spent having fun without worry. Emily will always be there to defend you, and she probably has a billion questions to ask you at all times.

One figure who would take you in is Carmilla Carmine. She already has two daughters whom she adores deeply, and so she has a lot of experience with teens and teaches them all they need to know.

Your fashion probably just matches her looks, and she is more than happy to help you pick out a proper, well-rounded wardrobe that not only suits exactly what you like but also matches her a little bit. Lots of red and grayscale clothing.

Carmilla reads a lot, usually with a glass of red wine, and she makes certain to keep a section of her bookshelf for you, full of books she thinks you might like. She's the type to read all of them in advance, so when you finish, you can talk to her about them to your heart's desire.

Expect a protective but free household; you and her other daughters are held to her highest standard, and anything your heart wishes, she will do her best to achieve. You are always welcome to join the family business, too.

Another parental figure you may have is Vox! Vox never planned to have kids or take any in; no, he probably thinks he hates kids! But there's an exception for everything.

He probably sneaks you into the V's tower after finding you alone, and he's already committed to getting you cleaned up and warm because, man, what is this kid doing all alone in hell? He can't just—well, he can't just leave you out there, can he?

The more time you spend together, the more he considers you his daughter. You have your own room that he's always bringing things into. He's the type to just knock until you let him in and then give you some random thing he got you. Single slice of pizza, hot chocolate—hey, look how fast he can solve a Rubics cube. Wanna play with this new drone I'm prototyping? I found the book you wanted!

Oh yeah, the fridge is covered in your drawings. Even if they're digital, he has a little digital screen that has a slideshow of your work, and he does his best to show interest in any hobby you pick up.

If he ever hears you say you won't do something because you'd be bullied, he would probably hand you a taser and money to go indulge in what you like and zap the shit out of anyone who pokes fun at you.

He's not a very good parent in terms of morals, but he won't let anyone hurt you or shame you. He would get Velvette herself to help you find your style and would probably bar Valentino from ever EVER meeting you.

Expect a lot of movie nights together, trying all his new technology first, and getting every ounce of support. You'll never be alone, and you'll always be safe because, unless you ask him not to, he's always checking in on you.

Author’s Note - I actually could not pick, I had so many ideas!! So I went for one friend and two (separate) parental figures! I hope thats okay, I was literally ranting to my friends all night about the indeas I got lmaooo

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva boss matchups #hazbin hotel matchups

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yettiman84 · 18 days

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This is fantasy roleplay!!

The sound of heavy steps echoed in the narrow alley. Nervous, Emily hurried, her heels wobbling on the uneven cracks in the pavement. Damn it, she thought; cutting between the old buildings to reach the car park faster had seemed like a good idea in the moment. She hadn't realised how narrow and creepy the dark alleys actually were. Ahead, Emily saw the reflection of street lights. The car park must be close. She rushed forward, only to have her hopes dashed. A chain link fence blocked the end of the alley. A sound, part frustration, part panic, escaped her as she looked at the fence, trying to find some way through. She even briefly considered trying to go over it, but the fence was too high. Besides, she didn't think heels and her club outfit, with its frilly top and short skirt, were really suited to climbing. Emily turned to find her way back out of the alley only to stop with a startled squeak as she nearly ran into the guy looming behind her. Her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't much taller than she was, but he seemed to loom over her anyway, with his broad shoulders and piercing eyes. "Hey pretty lady," he exclaimed. He was so close; Emily could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You wanna have some fun?" "I... I... oh, I’m meeting my boyfriend," Emily stammered. The man chuckled. He looked rough and dangerous, unshaven with messy hair and tattoos curling up his muscular arms. "I don't think he's back here, pretty lady. It's just you and me." Emily dashed forward, unsteady on her heels, trying to get past him. The rough man laughed.

His strong hands grabbed her arms, almost pulling her off her feet. Forcefully, he spun her around and released his grip. Emily staggered, throwing out her hands to catch her balance. Her breath came in panicked gasps. "Please, don't hurt me," Emily whimpered. "Please, let me go." "Maybe," the rough man smiled. "But first, I wanna see your tits." "What?" Emily sobbed, hoping she'd heard him wrong. "Your boobs, knockers, melons," the rough man growled. "You're not leaving until I see your rack, pretty." "Oh god," Emily gasped. "Please, please let me go." "Then let's see those tits," the rough man smirked. Hands shaking, Emily took hold of the hem of her frilly top. Her head was spinning and she couldn't seem to get enough air. Not knowing what else to do, she slowly lifted her hands, drawing her top up. Whimpering, she closed her eyes and pulled it over her head. The stinking air of the alley felt shockingly cold against her bare skin and, to her horror, she felt her tiny nipples hardening. "Very nice," the rough man growled. Emily could hear the smile in his voice. She kept her eyes closed, willing him to go away, to leave her alone now that he had what he wanted. "Please," she whispered. "Now show me the rest." "What?" Emily gasped, feeling her stomach drop out from under her. She thought she was going to be sick. Her eyes flew open, treating her to a view of his leering face. "I wanna see it all," the rough man grinned. "You said you'd let me go," she pleaded. "Come on slut, show me the rest," the rough man stepped closer. "Please," Emily whimpered, backing away, hitting the wall behind her. "Just leave me alone." With a snarl, the rough man lunged forward.

His strong hand seized Emily by the throat. Her breath caught as his fingers tightened. She was almost too stunned and horrified to fully notice his lips crushing against hers in a cruel sadistic type of kiss. Desperate, she struggled, trying to pull herself from his strong hands. His fingers tightened, making it harder to breathe, but she tried to twist away. His other hand lashed out, striking her bare breast with stinging force. Emily sobbed against the man's violent kiss. He slapped her breast again, and again, each stinging blow bringing another sob of pain against his lips. Emily froze, hoping that might stop the pain. The man slapped her breast one more time, before grabbing hold of it roughly and pinching her hard, little nipple. Sobbing, Emily tried to stand perfectly still while the rough man forced his tongue into her mouth and yanked and pinched her breast. The hand around her throat relaxed its grip slightly, making her panicked breaths easier. His lips, tasting of alcohol and smoke, continued to press violently against her own. She yielded, letting him thrust his tongue into her mouth. Hope sprang in her as his hand relinquished grip on her naked tit. For a moment, she dared hope he had tired of this game. Maybe he would finally let her go. Instead, the strong hand pressed between her legs. Emily whimpered as he thrust it up between her thighs, touching her most sensitive places. Why, she cursed herself. Why had she done it? "You little slut," the rough man laughed against her lips. "Did you forget something?" It had been a dare, a stupid, crazy dare to go to the club in this little skirt with no panties. Not long ago, she thought it had been fun, sitting there in the club, feeling the air against her nakedness, knowing that someone might get a peek of her....

It didn’t last long though as she suddenly felt him push her over onto the damp dirty alley floor. She looked back and could see him looming over her. Panting, she tried to crawl away, unable to keep from looking back to see what else may be in store. He smiled at her, the somehow gentle look at odds with his perversity. He reached down, grabbing her hair again, and drew her face back to his slick and still hard cock. Emily cringed back a little but opened her lips obediently. He suddenly went angry again and with a much more coarse harsher voice shouted “I told you that it wouldn’t be over until it hurts, it’s not going in your mouth you little slut”. The rough man positioned himself between her legs from behind, he rubbed his cock up and down against her pussy lips “tell me how much you want me to fuck your ass slut”. It was a final humiliation to make Emily beg to be assfucked. “No please don’t make me do that, I wanna go home” she sobbed as she pleaded to be let go. Within an instant she felt his fingers push into her tight asshole. “Owwwww pleaseeee stop” Emily shrieked. “This will stop when I’m done with you whore, the quicker you get on board the quicker it will over”. Fighting back the tears, Emily realised that she was not going be able to talk her way out of this one and she suddenly felt a surge of contempt for the man that was taking her without consent. “If you’re gonna fuck my ass get on with it you dirty fucking pervert, come on fuck my ass, you’re just a coward who can’t get a woman to actually want to fuck you”. The man was taken aback by what she was saying but he wasn’t going to fall for her reverse psychology bullshit. He slowly pushed the tip of his fully erect shaft inside her ass and began to gently move back and forth, with increasing ease.

Emily’s ever growing wetness enabled his cock to slide in deeper, little by little he penetrated her until the base of his cock pressed against her spread bum cheeks, and she felt his heavy balls swinging against her cheeks as he fucked her ass.

She remained as still as possible, not wanting to let him know she was enjoying it as she remembered he wanted to hurt her. It was difficult though and Emily began to move her ass back and forth in unison with his thrusts, each thrust brought his lengthy cock deeper inside her. A new sensation took over her and her ass simultaneously increased its lubrication, at the end of each thrust the swollen tip of his cock was slipping into the deepest part of her ass, sending a thrill that made her push back to drive it deeper. She began to groan and whimper; "Unh. Unh. Unh." sweat poured down her body. The rough mans cock seemed to swell to fill her completely, as he built up his speed. Each thrust in her ass stimulated the nerves just inside her anus, and travelled throughout her body into her depraved mind. She began a high pitched shriek, shaking her head from side to side as she was fucked, then screaming out extremely loud as a tremendous, ecstatic sensation filled her like a tidal wave. It was at this moment he realised that Emily was a worthy adversary and he wasn’t going to hurt her as much as he thought. The man grabbed Emily back onto her knees and spat in her face, he didn’t care if she had his DNA all over her. He was throbbing and needed to release himself one way or another. He began to thrust again, pushing himself once more into her mouth with growing urgency. This time, he didn't stop, and a matter of moments later his hot cum flooded between Emily’s lips. Even as she struggled to swallow, he suddenly pulled himself from her obedient lips. Spurts of white, sticky cum rained down onto her face, drawing hot streaks along her lips, nose and cheek. Instinctively, Emily licked her lips, tasting his warm cum. Panting, she looked up to see him looming over her again, closing his jeans. With a grin, he lifted his phone from a pocket. The flash was startlingly bright in the dark of the alley as the rough man snapped picture after picture of her, lying in the dirty alley, her breasts and pussy bare and cum covering her flushed face. "Thanks, slut," the rough man leered down at her, pausing to playfully pinch her breast once more “next time ill have my tools and I’ll make sure it’s not as fun for you” before turning and running down the alley. Emily lay there on the ground, her breasts and pussy throbbing in the open air. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, trying to straighten her skirt and grabbing for her top. Dressing, she desperately tried to scrub the cum from her face before stumbling down the alley to her car!!!

#KST

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broflovski-brah · 16 hours

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Hey, I would love to draw Baylie! If you don’t mind could you give a description of her? (Appearance, weight, hair length/texture, height, clothing, scars/birthmarks, personality, etc.) just so I don’t have to rake through a bunch of posts and I really want to get it right!

Aw, anon 😭

You really don’t have to! But if you want to, go ahead :) (this is VERY detailed tho since I know you said you wanted detail lol)

For her appearance she’s pretty thin. kinda like this?

She has albinism; so if you look up pictures of people with albinism you’ll get the gist, but mainly that means she has no pigment so her skin is pale, her hair is white (though it kinda fades to a buttery color at the ends because that’s kinda how it is with albinism and hair; the longer the hair the more likely that it turns a more buttery color because of outside elements. Her eyes are periwinkle? like it’s this mix between blue and purple. She has B2 hair; for red it kinda looks like this since google doesn’t really give the right pics when i look it up so it’s right here :)

(at least that’s the hair type anyway; the color is different ofc) She has a LOT of hair too; like her hair is thick as hell. She usually puts it in pigtails to keep some of it out of her face so it’s kinda hard up half down. If I had to describe her appearance it’s kinda deer like? small frame, small head, big eyes, y’know how it is. She usually wears a white button down shirt and greenish shorts? She wears a wide brimmed hat with lots of feathers in it; mostly parrot and starling feathers. Shes 5’6’’.She has a small scar on her cheek. She also has tattoos on her back that look like bird wings.

Personality time!

She’s VERY hyper. She’s highly extroverted. Like she’d go out in the middle of the street and strike up a conversation with someone at random. She’s an ENFJ (according to a personality test i took kinda for her?) She can come off as a little bit obnoxious. But she means well. Kinda think Pinkie Pie from MLP. She can kinda be all up in your face but she doesn’t mean to be. She’s pretty maternal; she’s the mom friend who will be up your ass like ‘did you eat? did you drink? did you say something nice to yourself yet?’ and she kinda tends to be a bit annoying with that. but she backs off a bit when she realizes that.

A few characters I can think of that are like her personality wise are Pinkie Pie, Cady Heron (before the whole Regina thing), Emily from Hazbin Hotel and Kinkajou from Wings of Fire. She tends to be a lot at times but she’s pretty loyal. Shes Australian too. From Cairns to be more specific. She LOVES being outside. Her mom worked with animals a lot and her dad worked as a vet for exotic animals. So she loves animals. She moved to America because her dad was offered a better job (he was really on the run because he did really bad shit but more on that later) and she was really happy to explore new places. She has six siblings; an older brother named Adrian who goes off to the military, twin siblings named Jude and Giavanna (Gigi and Juju for short), and I haven’t worked out the other three yet.

She is huge on art and music and does drama club. She does competitive dance as well and is really good in the arts department. Shes also a huge math/science person. Biology especially. Shes not really one to be squirmed out by anything. Shes seen a lot when her dad was working with animals lol-Kyle’s her best friend lol (or well; closest. then it turns into smth more? they end up together in the end; she’s got a lot of angst in her life but i don’t wanna spoil too much :) )

After her dad leaves because he’s on the run, her mom was diagnosed with a terminal illness and because her brother is gone she becomes the sole caretaker for her family.

I hope that’s enough info!! :)

#anon #answreed

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star-the-gremlin · 9 days

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Are you going to draw the swaps for the hazbin au? If not can you describe what they look like?

I am going to draw them but It's going to take a long ass time with my constant rollercoaster of an art block so I might as well describe at least the ones that will change the most.

Sera will be heavily based off a black swan, dark color palette mixed with dark blues and purples with red accents.

For Eve I'm not sure but maybe I'll go with a mix of a cat and a ram for no real reason other than it would look sick as hell!

Emily would be a mix of both her moms, strongly leaning towards Sera with more bird like features with ram horns like Eve and cat paws and a tail.

Lute is obviously missing an arm and she kept her hair short. Her color palette consists of reds, grays and blues (mostly clothing). I wanna base he design off a sugar glider mostly because I think it would piss her off that she took a form of something so adorable and I like to bully her.

#ask #answered ask #hazbin hotel #hazbin au #hazbin hotel au #swap au #eden hotel #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel eve

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archways-so-fluffy · 2 years

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hi just hopped on tumblr

Hi! I'm Archway, or call me Archie for short. I like dragons. A lot.

I enjoy jazz/existential rap like exociety and Rav! I'm the biggest fan of Joey Valence and Brae

HOOLIGANGSTER FOR LIFE!!

Im pangender so use any and all pronouns for me that you'd like lmao

I loveee to cook and draw!

-- VIDEO GAMES I PLAY --

Tloz, deltatale(both), tsp, inscryption, pokemon, csgo, fortnite, Emily is away, ddlc + more ill add later

-- TV shows I liek --

Criminal minds, the owl house, OK KO, Steven Universe, Bluey, Ninjago + more I can't remember rn

If you wanna find me somewhere else:

I use variations of archway(s) archdubs, ect :3

More about me!

Im black, 5'8 very textured hair, and mostly androgynous lmao

Dni

Pls dont be mean to people :( (aka don't be TRASH: transphobic, racist, ablist, sexist or homophobic)

Dont come around here being rcta or that kind of crap

Byf

I may draw nsfw if I feel like it ‼️ I don't take nsfw requests.

Okey thanks for my teddy talk, bye

#furry fandom #furry #art #artists on tumblr #furry art #yeah #idk #pansexual

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subspencer · 3 years

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the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds self insert

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

Shut Me Up

A/N: Here’s another smutty one-shot. I felt like something a little cliche so here it is. This was so fun to write! I’m still finding my footing in this fandom as a writer but I think I wanna start taking requests, the next fic I have coming out will be a request and I’m having fun with it so shoot me a message if there’s something you wanna see. I’ve just put together my Masterlist so you can check out my other fics there :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N don’t exactly get on well. Will they be able to work out some of their frustration when they’re forced to share a room for the night?

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, name calling, light choking, hair pulling, scratching, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3850 words

The hotel is somehow worse than usual. It’s got so few rooms that they just narrowly grab enough for the whole team. But few enough that they have to bunk. Y/N didn't love sharing a room but it was better than having nowhere to sleep at all.

Prentiss tosses her a key, “That’s you and Reid” she says it so nonchalant that Y/N almost doesn’t notice it. Once in clicks in her head though she races down the hall.

“Hey, hey wait!” She calls out, a little too desperate, “Emily you can’t put me with Reid. We’ll kill each other.”

She laughs at that, it was on open secret amongst the team that Y/N and Spencer had something of a rivalry going. Bitter sworn enemies apparently. No one really bought it though. People who really truly hated each other would be a lot better at avoiding one another. But Y/N and Spencer could never seem to keep apart for very long.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to put your differences aside for a night.” she waves Y/N off as she heads into her own room, leaving her stranded in the hallway. Contemplating if the reception area might let her crash on the couch, she could even spend the night in one of the SUVs, the seats reclined far enough.

But that was stupid, why should she be the one who had to be uncomfortable, why not Spencer.

When she arrived at the door of her own room Spencer was slumped up against it, he stood up straight once he saw her coming.

“Took you long enough” he spat, reaching to take the key from her but she pulled it back before he had the chance.

“I was on the hunt for alternative sleeping arrangements” she huffs, unlocking the door.

“To no avail I presume?” he jokes but he’s just met with an eye roll.

“I’m taking the bed by the window” she stakes her claim before they even get through the door. Once they’re inside he lets out a chuckle.

“You’re welcome to the side of the bed by the window?” he jokes.

This was infinitely worse than she thought it was going to be. Where there were usually two generally uncomfortable twin beds in these standard small-town motels, instead there was a queen sized bed, staring at them as they stood at the foot of it.

“I get the bed” she says like she’s calling shotgun.

“Bullshit you get the bed, there’s nowhere else to sleep!” he complains.

She takes a second to scan the room, no sofa, no arm chair, the floor is a scratchy carpet. There’s no real option here. “You can sleep on the desk?” she suggests, and she’s not serious about it, but she wouldn’t say no if he agreed.

“Are you kidding me?” he almost shouts.

“Soft mattresses are bad for your back! Maybe it’ll sort out your posture?” she adds.

“There’s nothing wrong with my posture” he groans, massaging his temple.

“Okay sure, you tell yourself that”

They don’t say anything more about it as they unpack. Showering and changing for bed in silence. When Y/N comes out from he bathroom, Spencer is sitting up on one side of the bed, reading through case files by the light of the bedside lamp.

“Are you serious?” she whines.

“Look, we both need rest, just shut up and get over yourself” he says it without looking up from the file in his hand, his finger running over the lines at speed.

She doesn’t respond, she just climbs in on the other side, keeping herself as close to the edge of the mattress as possible to keep the distance in between them.

She lies like that for about 45 minutes but sleep’s just not coming.

“Are you ever gonna turn off that fucking light, I thought we ‘needed rest’” she mocks, turning over to look at him, still combing through the files, mumbling to himself every once in a while.

“We’ll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get any sleep” she tries to convince him with a slightly more sincere tone.

This case wasn’t easy, the unsub had been abducting victims he’d met in online BDSM chatrooms. Bodies had been turning up murdered in ways that the victims had previously expressed were turn-ons. Suffocated, whipped, tied up in peculiar ways. There wasn’t much information to go on now, they just had to wait for the next body to turn up but that didn’t keep Spencer from pouring over everything a hundred times.

When he wasn’t being purposefully irritating Y/N honestly admired his work ethic. Just not when it was interfering with her much needed sleep.

“The bare minimum of sleep most humans need to live is just 4 hours in a 24 hour period” he blurts out, still not looking up.

“Well I’m not most humans, so knock it off”

He finally concedes, chucking his files onto the bedside table and shutting off the lamp. It’s now eerily quiet, and all she can hear is the steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

Enough time passes that she really should be asleep but it’s still not happening. So she’s already beyond irritated when she feels a slight shove against her shoulder.

“Hey, you still awake?” he sounds mischievous, she knows that tone of his voice and she doesn't like it.

“God! I am now! What do you want?” she mumbles into her pillow.

“I’ve just got a question” he says defensively.

She hums and rolls over to face him, he’s wide awake, “Well? Out with it” she encourages, the sooner this is over with the better.

His mouth twists into a smirk as he takes a minute to study her face, “What turns you on?” he asks it sincere, and she has no idea what to do with that.

Rolling her eyes on instinct she groans, “Ugh, are you serious? I was so close to getting to sleep, goodnight asshole.” she turns back around to end the conversation but he can’t leave it there.

“I’m serious actually, just all the talk about it earlier, I wanna know”

She doesn’t move as she speaks, remaining with her back to him in a bid not to engage, “You couldn’t handle that information.” She deadpans.

“Try me” he antagonizes, and that’s enough to set her off. He just didn’t know when to quit.

This could be a fun new way to tease him, is her first thought. Turn him on, leave him wanting, yet another game to add to their repertoire of spite.

“Fine I’ll give.” she turns back to him, staring intently this time, “Here’s one, I really get off on having my hair pulled” she scoots closer so she can lean in and whisper the next part, “like when I’m getting fucked from behind, or I’ve got someone’s cock down my throat. I love having my hair pulled, just the short sharp pain of it.” she sort of moans the last little bit right by his ear before settling back on her own pillow.

“That good enough?” she asks, and she can practically see his breath catch in his chest.

He takes a steady gulp, “Yeah, that was, informative” he breathes.

“And what about you?” she poses, he’s not getting out of this one so easy. He looks shocked, like he didn’t see this coming a mile off.

“Me? Uh—” he stutters, “My back, I get really— I get turned on when someone digs their nails into my back, like scratching and marking” something about seeing him flustered like this is almost endearing.

“I guess we’re both suckers for pain” she winks as she says it, making a move to turn around again in a bid to let the conversation die but he doesn’t give her the chance.

“Tell me another” he pleads, and she’s not sure what his expression means but she might just draw this out, see how far she can can tease this.

“Hmm, nosy aren't we?” she smirks, he doesn't respond, just waits for an answer. She thinks for a moment, “Have you ever choked anyone Dr. Reid?”

His breath hitches, and he shakes his head. She likes this new Spencer, the one that doesn’t seem to have some quip for her every two seconds.

“Well I think you might like it, you’ve got nice strong hands, long fingers too. I feel like they might make it the whole way round my neck if you tried?” her voice is soft like velvet as she speaks. He lets out a short pant, and she can see his eyes flicker down to her exposed throat before quickly coming back to her eyes.

“Does the idea of that turn you on Doc?” she teases.

“I— um—” he’s at a loss for words yet again.

“That’s not an answer now is it?” She taunts him, and moves to turn around once again. Feeling accomplished in her goal, finally about to get some sleep. But she’s barely closed her eyes when she can feel him move. He’s so close behind her that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand slowly reaches around and grasps her throat gently, she moves herself further into his grip on instinct and he runs with it. Using the leverage to pull himself right up behind her, and she can feel it. He’s hard, and she can feel him pushing himself right up against her ass.

“Is this a satisfactory answer?” he moves in close and whispers against her ear. She’s changed her mind, maybe this is her favorite Spencer.

“Mmhmm” she hums in response, and his fingers tighten around her neck. She pushes her ass further back, moving it up and down slightly to create some friction and she can feel him twitching through the thin layer of her nightdress. He starts to move with her, grinding against her, his other hand resting on her hip, fingertips digging in so that he can pull her closer.

She tries to moan when she feels his nails dig into her but it gets stifled in her throat.

“You sound pathetic” he whispers, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re whining like a little slut” her hips buck involuntarily at that. “You like it when I call you names?” he teases.

The hand on her hip starts to pull at her nightdress, inching it up higher and higher until his fingers are on her bare skin. He digs his nails in just slightly and drags them around her thigh, letting them settle right at the hem of her panties.

“I bet if I put my fingers in here I’d find you soaking wet for me already?” When she doesn’t answer he tightens the hand around her throat so that it’s almost cutting off the air supply, then loosens immediately. “Answer me” he demands.

“Yes! Yes!” she moans, anything to get his hands to move where she wanted them.

“That’s what I thought” he laughs and lets go of her completely. Her dress hiked up, breathing ragged. She snaps back around to look at him and he’s already curled up on his side of the bed as though nothing’s happened. Left in shock she sits upright, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What the fuck was that?” she has to stop herself from outright shouting at him.

He turns back to look at her, taking in her sullen expression, “Disappointed are we?” he teases with a smirk. And that look makes her want to kill him.

“You’re such a dick” she huffs, and he sits upright next to her.

“You say that like I didn’t just beat you at your own game?” he tries to fight back.

“You didn’t beat me!” she protests

“Oh really, and how’s that?”

“I could feel you, you were rock hard before you even touched me” she spits it out, because if she turned him on first then somehow this didn’t feel as embarrassing.

“Yeah! Because you were teasing me!” he looks frustrated now,

“Exactly! Because I was teasing you, and you fucking liked it” he just rolls his eyes at that, pretending like it’s somehow not true.

“Shut the fuck up” he groans, running his hands through his hair and letting his head fall back against the headboard.

She quirks an eyebrow and looks straight into his sleepy eyes, “Make me.”

In less than a second his hands are on her again, grabbing and pulling her into his lap. One hand is firmly on her back, holding her tight against his chest, the other is tangled in her hair already. Grabbing fistfuls as their lips work against each other.

It’s heated, and ferocious, full of pent up aggression, or tension, or both.

As his tongue works against hers, she lets her own hands wander over him, finally coming to rest at the back of his head, tangling in his curls. When she grinds down into his lap she can feel his cock still hard beneath her, straining against the fabric of his boxers. She thought it was impossible but it felt harder than it had been earlier.

He breaks apart the kiss and they both take in wrecked breaths, chests heaving. He pulls at the hem of her nightdress, pushing it further up her thighs, grabbing a rough handful of her ass as his hands find the exposed skin there.

“We gotta get this off” he whispers, and she nods, pulling it off over her head so that she’s exposed now. Perched in his lap in nothing but her panties. “Fuck” he moans at the sight. His hands come straight up to grab her tits, rough and exited for a moment before easing up, kneading them, getting used to the weight of them in his hands. He brings his mouth down, leaning in so that he can place sloppy open mouthed kisses along her neck and collar bones, trailing down to the valley between her breasts. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it gently then teasing the bud with his teeth. When he releases it and looks up at her his eyes almost look glazed over, dreamy.

“I’ve always had a thing for your tits” he confesses, his lips coming down to repeat the action on the other nipple.

“Your turn to take your shirt off” she whines as he removes his lips, the cold air hardening her nipples now that he’d teased them. He drags his eyes away from her for a second so that he can peel his shirt off over his head.

On pure instinct she rakes her nails across his now bare chest, leaning in close to place kisses into the crook of his neck, moving up painfully slow, kissing along the column of his throat, landing on the soft skin beneath his ear. She can feel the moans rippling in his throat against her lips. While he’s stilled beneath her she takes the opportunity to tuck her hands in behind him, digging her nails into his back and dragging them across the skin with force. Certainly leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The noises that escape him might be the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You like it when I mark you up?” she moans into his ear, “When I make you mine?” she can feel wetness pooling between her own legs as she says the words. The very thought of it turning her on more than she ever thought it could.

Clearly he feels the same, something erupts in him and the hands that had been resting on her hips were now lifting her up and laying her down on the bed. He was on top of her now, his hair framing his face as he looked down at her, and she was biting her fucking lip in anticipation.

He almost can’t even look directly at her so he snakes down her body, littering her torso with kisses and licks. Once he lands at her hips he takes the elastic of her panties between his teeth, pulling it up and letting it go so that it snaps against her stomach. She lets out a low moan.

“Let’s see if I was right earlier, how wet are you for me?” his voice is low as he places small kisses over the cotton, making his way right in between her legs. He pulls back for a second to inspect the fabric, there’s a damp patch covering the majority of the area, as if he didn't know already. “You’re fucking soaked Y/N” he groans and presses his fingers right up against it, forcing the fabric between her folds so that it soaks up even more, “Such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

She can only let out a small whine in response, her teeth biting into her lip so hard she was afraid she might start bleeding.

“Better get rid of these, don’t you think?” he hooks his fingers into either side of her panties, sliding them down her legs. He takes them and places them on his pillow before returning to his position between her legs.

He’s slow and deliberate in his actions, teasing painfully as he places sloppy kisses on the delicate skin inside of her thighs. Stopping right at the top to nip and suck enough to leave a bruise. Taking the time to stop and leave a matching bruise on the other thigh.

She was starting to grow restless, she felt like she was literally aching for any stimulation at all.

“Spencer” she whines, “Please, I’m so fucking turned on already”. She can feel him chuckle, his exhale sends a burst of cold air right against her pussy.

“So impatient” he chastises, but gives in anyway. Laying his tongue flat against her, taking a moment to taste her before he starts to move. Licking deft strokes along her folds, alternating with sucking softly on her clit.

“Spencer, fuck, oh my god” is all she can muster as her back arches up off the bed, her hips squirming as he pins them down. “You feel so fucking good”

He takes the encouragement and brings a finger to her entrance, pushing it in at an agonizing pace, curling it upwards against her once it’s fully inside. “You’re so fucking tight Y/N, do you think you could even handle another finger?” he has to take his mouth off of her to speak but it’s worth it for the downright filthy sounds she makes in response. He takes that as a yes and slowly pushes two fingers in this time. Bringing his lips back down to wrap around her clit and suck.

Her hands fly down to his curls as he works his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. She grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls them harshly, not knowing where else to put the energy. “Fuck Spencer, feels so good, don’t stop” she mutters between gasps.

He continues his ministrations and he would be lying if he said the feeling of her hands pulling at his hair weren’t doing something for him.

A moment later and she’s barely able to control her movements, thrashing in the bed as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her, relishing the feeling of her walls tightening around him. Once she’s relaxed again he takes his fingers out, bringing them up to her lips, without telling her to she opens her mouth, taking the two fingers in, letting her tongue move around them to taste herself.

It’s one of the many memories from tonight he knows he wont forget anytime soon. Or ever.

“I can see why you like it” he says, leaning over her, talking into the crook of her neck, “having your hair pulled, feels fucking amazing” she lets out a weak laugh, regaining her strength.

“Told you you liked pain” she reaches down between them, grabbing his cock through his boxers, “You must’ve really liked it” she teases, squeezing as his eyes flutter shut and he nods.

He maneuvers a little so that he can take off his boxers, and finally she gets to see it. It’s perfect, bigger than she expected, it looks painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. He moves back to hover over her, lingering for a minute to take her in. She thinks there might be something almost sweet behind his expression.

“Just fuck me already” she smirks up at him and he rolls his eyes without even meaning to.

“Will you ever stop antagonizing me?”

“If you fuck me maybe?”

With that he leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, she can taste herself on his tongue as it tangles with hers. She can feel him push up against her, the head of his cock just teasing at her entrance before sinking in so slowly she was almost angry.

“Fuck Y/N, you feel so good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me” he’s whispering right into her hear and she can barely string together a sentence.

“Spencer, you’re so big, fill me up so good with your fingers, with your cock, fuck” as he starts to move they both start to lose it, her hands digging into his back, her nails sinking into his shoulders leaving small half-moons in his skin. He finally starts to build a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, filling the room with the pornographic sounds of skin on skin, coupled with their moans.

Once she can feel the familiar feeling building within her again she starts to lose control completely, her nails scratching marks into the expanse of Spencer’s back, hearing the little breathy gasps he lets out each time she does might be enough to make her cum all on their own.

“I’m close” she mewls, letting her head fall back against the pillow, exposing her neck, eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, me too” he takes the opportunity presented to him, and wraps one of his hands around her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Ahh, fuck” she breathes out with the little air that she has, “gonna cum” and she does, he can feel her tighten around his cock, her body writhing beneath his and arching up off he bed as he continues to fuck into her.

He’s following behind just a second later, spilling into her as he collapses back down, releasing his grip on her throat completely and settling on her chest.

They both take a moment. Melting into one another, steading out their breathing.

It’s Y/N who breaks the silence, “So you’ve always had a thing for my tits then?”

He cranes his neck up to look at her, “Shut up” he breathes, laying his head back down on her chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down.

“Now you know how to make me.”

Masterlist

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checked-windows · 3 years

Text

IN SERVICE

Aaron Hotchner x trans male reader

Warnings: references to addiction.

Jack had told his dad about his new friend 'Nero' and kept going on about him and his dad who was also 'so cool'. Aaron Hotchner had listened intently nodding when he felt like it was needed.

A few days later Jack was telling him. About how Nero had knocked him over and he'd scraped his knees. Aaron had been worried at the bandage that was wrapped around his sons knee. It had been Nero's dad who had patched him up and scolded the other boy.

Another week past and Aaron was taking Jack to the park for a team day out to enjoy the sun and a rare day off. They were all sat on a blanket watching the kids run about with a ball when a speeding mass of grey collided with Jack and had him pined to the grass. Aaron was on his feet in seconds panic rising in his chest making him feel sick.

"NERO!" a voice called from the side and a man was hauling the mass off of his son by its collar "Do you ever listen? You okay kiddo?"

"I'm fine Mr (l/n) ! Hello Nero!" Jack answered petting the large dog.

"Nero, apologise to Jack" you ordered and the dog licked Aaron's sons face. Jack was giggling and you finally released the dogs collar, smoothing down the fur "Run away again and your going to live on a farm"

Aaron was standing in mild shock when you turned to him with a sheepish smile.

"I'm so sorry about him. He seems to have taken a liken to Jack" the man said rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's OK. I think I got a fright" Aaron responded "Aaron Hotchner, you must be Nero's dad then"

"That's me! (y/n) (l/n)" you answered and Aaron finally took you in fully. What he had originally thought was a strange shirt turned out to skin, littered with tattoos of all sorts, down your arms and across your stomach and chest. A shirt was tucked into the waistband of grey shorts. But it was two faint scars across your chest that drew Aaron's attention. He quickly snapped his eyes back up to meet yours and a small smile.

The dog was sniffing at Aaron's pants and you huffed a laugh.

"Maybe it's just Hotchner's he likes so much" you pointed out. Aaron reached out to let the dog sniff his hand and stroked over his head softly.

"What breed is he?" Aaron found himself asking.

"Tamaskan" you answered "They are bred specifically to look like wolves but honestly he's just a big softy"

Aaron seemed to remember that he was with the team and froze for a second.

"I'm going to get him home. It's hot out and he's gonna need a nap, you should get back to your team. Tell Jessica I say hi"

"Yeah I will do" Aaron said and you beconed the dog to follow, waving to Jack as he led the Nero away. Aaron turned back to the team who were pretty much leering at him at this point. He huffed at them with a glare that had no real heat behind it. Aaron began taking Jack to the park more to even catch a glimpse of you but fate never seemed to be on his side. A large part of him wished he had given you his card or something to contact him on. The agent eventually just excepted that he would most likely never cross paths again.

Emily Prentiss stepped into the tattoo parlour slowly a familiar dog catching her eye as she moved to the front desk. This would be the eighth shop that she had tried, the rest were either booked up or refused to do the work.

"I'm just going to send you straight through. We should be able to sort you out" the receptionist stated shoving things in her bag. Emily followed her gesture into the main part of the shop, the dog nudged her hip and lead her towards the man sitting on a swivel chair. You hair had been dyed an electric blue but when you looked up she knew your face, even only from a brief view. You breifly recognised her.

"How may I be of help?" you asked with a smile, Nero sided up next to you and you buried a hand into thick fur.

"I want to get a tattoo, over a brand" she said and you nodded. This was the 8th time she'd had this conversation and expected you to shut her down.

"Cool. How big of a brand are we talking?" you asked "And depending on the scarring it will most likely have to be greyscale but I can add a pop of colour if you wish"

Emily's eyes widened a bit and her shoulders slumped with relief.

"Are you OK?" you asked going to reach out but changed your mind before making contact.

"I was expecting you to tell me that it wasn't possible. That's what everyone else has said" she said. Nero rested his head on her thigh, she hummed stroking his head.

"I find tattooists in the area are a bit iffy about tattooing over scar tissue. I am too but I'm sure I can work it out for you" you said "How big are we talking roughly? And where is it?"

"I'll just show you" she said shucking off her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse to show the brand on her chest. You winced slightly before scooting closer and tilting your head to get a better look.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you asked and got a nod in return. You pulled on a black latex glove, and gently touched the brand, poking at the skin "Is this painful at all?"

"No, I can't feel much there anymore. I think the nerves were burned" she answered and you put a bit more pressure on it to see if she flinched away but she sat still and you nodded.

"Oh I'll be able to tattoo over this easily" you said pulling the glove off and throwing it in the trash "What do you think you'd want to cover it with?"

"I was thinking a bird or something" she answered quietly.

"A bird? I can do that gimme like 30 minutes to draw something up for you and you can tell me what you think." you said spinning the chair away from her to grab a notepad and pencil "Also I'll need your full name and some form of ID to photocopy. For our records"

"Are my credentials OK?" she asked and with you nod pulled them out of her pocket.

"Thank you" you said and peeked in the leather holder "Emily Prentiss"

You moved away to copy her details before coming back and handing it to her.

"I strongly recommend going to get something to eat while I'm getting this sorted for you. I wouldn't want to phone Mr Hotchner to say one of his agents has passed out in my studio" you were smiling and Emily followed the order. Going to the cafe around the corner sending a text to the team group chat.

E PRENTISS: I found out where Hotch's eyecandy works.

P GARCEA: ohhhhh! Where!?

A HOTCHNER: Not my eye candy.

E PRENTISS: Lucifers tattoos. He's dyed his hair blue.

D MORGAN: I was thinking about getting a new tattoo.

P GARCEA: very interesting indeed :)

Emily laughed at her phone and realised her 30 minutes were up and headed back to the studio where Nero met her at the door and lead her back to his human who was finishing wrapping the chair. You looked up and laughed.

"Clearly he likes you, Mr chauffeur" you laughed and the dog bounced away to his bed in the corner.

"He's very well trained" she pointed out sitting down when you patted the padded chair.

"Only when he's wearing his vest. When he's not he knows he can misbehave cause he's not working" you said and sat on the swivel chair again holding something that looked an awful lot like a hospital gown out to her. "Nero is a service dog. He helps me with daily tasks like remembering to eat as well as being out in public spaces. He's also very good as noticing the signs of a relapse"

Emily shot you a look while he was flattening the stencil over the brand on her chest trying to keep your hands as gentle as possible.

"How's that for you?" you asked.

"That's perfect, it covers it amazingly" she said and got a grateful smile in return, you spun around and pulled out a fresh pair of black gloves from the box and started the needle.

"You good? Needing anything before we start?" you asked.

"Yeah and no I'm good" she answered. And you started the tattoo, she could see your chest moving when you breathed and moved hair from your forehead with an arm.

"I can hear the cogs turning in your head. Ask the question that's bugging you" you said keeping your head down

"You were an addict?" it left her mouth with far less tact than what she would have wanted.

"Yep. Nothing too hard but enough that I couldn't function as a 'normal' person, I couldn't hold a job this studio saved me" you said and wiped the ink gently "Nero keeps me functioning and safe"

"Well I'm glad your better now" she said and you smiled.

"Cravings come and go but I'll be fine. Oh if you find yourself talking your team don't mention this to them, Nero likes Jack" you said and laughed. The conversation lulled and the sound of the needle filled the room.

"Do you want to take a break?" you asked and got a nod in return "Can I get you a drink?"

"No, no it's OK" she answered. You removed the gloves and throwing them away before stretching out your legs and grabbing a bottle of something green out of a mini fridge. Nero whined loudly and you laughed.

"I'll be back in 5. He needs to pee" you said tapping you thigh so that the dog followed him. Emily noticed the badges pinned to the dogs vest, each clearly outlining the position of service animal and 'do not touch'. You wandered out a door and were away for close to 10 minutes before coming back you looking at the dog with a scowl.

"I cannot believe you did that. Pissing on a car. You're better than that" you huffed before sitting back on your chair and putting a fresh set of gloves on. "Ready?"

"Yeah. I think so" she answered.

"We can stop here and continue another day" you offered leaning back slightly.

"If I don't finish it today, I never will" she responded and you shrugged before putting the needle back to her skin. An hour and a half past before you were putting the needle down and cleaning her skin gently.

"All done" you said "You wanna see it?"

"Please" she breathed and you pulled a hand mirror off the tray next to you holding it so she could see. "It's beautiful thank you"

You smiled and let her keep looking while you tapped a tablet before handed it to her and she looked at the price.

"$200?" she asked eyes widening. You nodded slowly "Surely it's more than that"

"We have a deal on. Half price for cover ups on hateful or hurtful tattoos. I know the brand isn't a tattoo but I'm sure it's definitely hurtful, especially to the wearer" you said before directing her how to pay. Emily tried not to cry as joy filled her heart. She tapped the tip button and typed in $100, paying and handing the tablet back to him. You didn't notice to begin with until you did and smiled softly at her.

"Thank you" you said and put the tablet down "Try not to put a lot of pressure on it and if you need to put a vest on put some tissue over it in order to keep it happy"

She hugged you gently with another 'Thank you' before leaving the studio.

You were suprised when more FBI agents flooded the studio one after another, sometimes weeks apart. You didn't mind in all honesty, they were all lovely people and learning about them was an interesting endeavour , Derek Morgan had a son but loved his job equally, Jennifer Jaraue wasn't too sure of her own sexuality but had two sons to worry about, Penelope Garcia tried to see the good in everyone and everything but had definitely seen too much in her life, David Rossi (hadn't gotten a tattoo) but had spoken to you for a solid two hours about your' life and how you were doing a nice thing for his team and Spencer Reid had come in to get a constellation over scars on the crook of his elbow and told you the story behind them. You had felt something snap in your heart for the doctor once he had told you about Hankel, Spencer had been forced into addiction, you had not, you had chosen it.

More time past before you bumped into Aaron again, and by bumped we meant Nero had threw himself full force at the FBI agent bowling him over. You knew immediately who it was even before the man's shout of indignation reached your ears and raced after the dog screaming his name.

"Nero! I see you pup" Aaron laughed ruffling the dogs fur. You stopped next to them and hauled the dog off panting for air.

"I swear he just loves you and Jack" you huffed and helped the man to his feet. The man laughed and shook his head.

"I wanted to give you this" he said handing a small card over "It's got my number on it"

"Thank you" you said taking the card and smiling at it before shoving in your pocket. You didn't know if calling him was a good idea but it didn't need to happen because you bumped into him first, full on face into his chest.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry" you rushed before even noticing who he was, it was the laugh that made it through the panic "Oh Agent Hotchner. Hello. I'm sorry"

"It's alright" he steadied you with a half smile. "However while I have you in front of me I was wondering if you might want to go on a date with me?" Aaron asked "Dinner or drinks or I don't know something"

"Can Nero come?" you asked raising an eyebrow. Aaron laughed and nodded. Nero sniffed the bottom of Aaron's pants again and their hands brushed slightly.

"Listen, I'm not suggesting that we-" Aaron started but you were moving close to him grabbing the lapels of his jacket and hauling your bodies together, leaning up to press your lips together.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while" you said a blush rising up your neck. Aaron cupped your jaw and pulled you towards him bringing lips back together, tattooed fingers gripping his suit jacket.

"So was that a yes?" Aaron asked breathless. You laughed stepping back to pick up Nero's leash.

"Yeah. It is" you answered your other hand coming up to brush your lips.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #bau #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x trans male reader #trans male reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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lipstickstainz · 3 years

Text

five times - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: A collection of the times Spencer says “I love you” without saying it, and the one time he actually does. Warnings: tooth rotting fluff Word Count: 2k, it’s a short one A/N: happy new year guys! since you wanted this to be fluffy, here it is! hope you enjoy! gif not mine.

Spencer didn't know what he had been expecting when Hotch had announced to the team that they would have young additions. He had assumed that the newcomer would be pretty serious so that he would be taken seriously, and that he would be very reserved at the beginning to get to know the team first and not offend anyone. But he definitely wasn't expecting you.

On your first day, you showed up to work in a knee-length summer dress and high Converse, which threw him off right from the start. While JJ and Emily always wore something office appropriate, you didn't seem to mind catching everyone's eye. With an infectious confidence and a big smile on your face, you introduced yourself to the others. While most of the team looked at you as if you were from another star - except for Penelope Garcia, of course, she was incredibly happy to finally know another colorful bird in the midst - Spencer liked that you stayed true to yourself. No matter what anyone else thought of you.

You went through life with an ease that was quite atypical of your profession. It almost reminded Spencer of Garcia, but only almost. You didn't have to look away when someone showed you photos of dead bodies. He sometimes caught himself worrying that the job would eventually take away your cheerfulness.

"'DO NOT TOUCH' would probably be a really unsettling thing to read in braille“, you said as you sat in the bullpen. Your desk bordered his, so Spencer only had to look up from his files to give you an amused look.

"Where did you come up with that?", he asked, a smile curling his lips.

You shrugged before looking at him. "I don't know. But it would be pretty disturbing, wouldn't it? How fortunate that it can't happen to me."

Spencer tilted his head. "Because you're not blind?"

"Because I can't read braille“, you replied with a grin, and he laughed out loud, drawing everyone's attention. Spencer smiled briefly at them and motioned for them to turn back to their work so you could continue talking undisturbed.

He leaned a little in your direction before whispering to you.

"Your head must be a wonderful place to live in."

It was incredibly loud and the air was too stuffy to be able to grasp a clear thought. But maybe it was just the alcohol the bartender was pouring out like Penelope had certain nicknames regarding Derek. But it also seemed to be Garcia's goal to get the entire team drunk on her birthday. She had round after round coming to your booth, repeating "one of you is dancing on the table today" several times. You were sure it would be Penelope herself. Or JJ.

You were enjoying yourself with Emily on the dance floor of the club. You were incredibly warm, which was probably 75% due to the alcohol you had already drunk. You were wearing tight jeans and a backless, loose top, and yet your skin was so hot that the clothes almost stuck to you. At first you had worried that Emily and you were too different to become friends, but one day she showed up on your doorstep after an exhausting case and stayed all night. It had bonded you together.

In a quiet moment, you looked to the others and Derek raised an arm, signaling you were ready for the next round of shots. You grabbed Emily's arm and, singing, you squeezed through the crowd toward the table.

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends“, you sang, and you dropped into the empty seat next to Spencer, who looked at you with amusement. "Make it last forever, friendship never eeeend“, you sang on, leaning back in Spencer's direction without touching him. When he tried to put his arm around you to pull you close, you pushed him away. "I'm sweaty and sticky, Spence. I don't think you're into that."

But Spencer reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours before pulling you onto his lap. His breath brushed your face and you smelled the alcohol in it. "I don't care. I love touching you."

"There's a documentary about the formation of the universe and black holes in theaters tonight“, Spencer said. The team was on its way back from a case in Dallas, and while the others were resting or listening to music, you two were playing chess. Not that it was fair, but you liked the challenge and Spencer finally had someone to play with again. "I was wondering if you would like to join me. This case has been exhausting and I think we could use a distraction." He asked without looking up from the chessboard. His face turned glowing red, which you didn't notice because you were trying not to go checkmate in three moves.

You moved your queen before you looked at him. His shoulders were tense and he was breathing shallowly. Spencer bit the inside of his lower lip nervously. "I'd love to“, you smiled, and at your reply he seemed to visibly relax.

Spencer picked you up at home after you showered and got ready. You were wearing jeans and a loose sweater. Up until that point, Spencer had been sure you couldn't get any more beautiful, but when you hugged him with a sparkle in your eye and a warmth in your smile, he wasn't sure anymore.

"Origin of the universe and black holes?", you assured yourself as you stood outside the movie theater. Spencer nodded, his hands buried in his pants pockets. You smirked. "You have to promise me one thing, though."

"And that would be?", he asked as he paid for the tickets and put yours in your hand. You smiled at him.

"You have to promise me that you will tell me every one of your clever thought processes. I want to hear every comment you make, all right? Even if people around us complain."

It was the second time Spencer and you had done something together outside of work, and you enjoyed his company very much, which of course was partly because you'd had a crush on him ever since he'd once explained something to you about his case that you hadn't understood. Spencer had explained it to you as well as he could, and when you thanked him afterwards, he didn't know what hit him. No one cared about his clever anecdotes or explanations, and the fact that you had even thanked him for it made his heart beat faster. Just as it did now.

Spencer looked at you, pleased. "We're the only ones at the movies, Y/N. No one's going to complain."

"Then you can explain everything I don't understand at your leisure."

You entered the movie theater and took your seats. He handed you the packet of popcorn. "You are my partner in crime. You are my favorite person."

"The exhibit was very interesting“, you said as you left the museum. It hadn't been your first visit, but visiting it with Spencer was a very different experience. You liked that he had something to say about most of the exhibits. "Thank you for being here with me."

Spencer smiled down at you. "Well, actually, I asked you to go here with me. So I have to say thank you."

"But I wouldn't have been here tonight if you hadn't asked me. So, thanks for that."

Your apartment wasn't far away, and with each step you hoped the evening wouldn't end just yet. As you stood in front of your apartment complex, Spencer nervously stepped from one foot to the other. "I had a really nice evening“, he confessed.

"Me too." If you didn't want the evening to end now, you had to take the plunge. "I'd never been on a date to a museum before."

Spencer's eyes widened and for a moment you feared you had misinterpreted everything. The looks, the stories and the touches. But Spencer stopped your train of thought. "Neither have I. Well, I had been to a museum before, of course, but it had never been dates, and I'm glad I was there with you“, he babbled, blushing, which made you smile. You liked that you could read his feelings from his face. "Um, maybe we can meet again tomorrow? For dinner? If that's not too much for you?"

You didn't answer him, but put your arms around his neck and gently pulled him down to you. In his face you searched for signs that he didn't want this, and when you couldn't find any, you gently placed your lips on his.

At first he didn't return the kiss, which you attributed to his surprise. He stiffened and it took a moment for the synapses in his brain to realize what exactly was happening. You were kissing him. And you had kissed him first. When his mind started thinking again, his hands settled on your waist and he pulled you a little closer to him to deepen the kiss. When you broke away from each other, he had a gleam in his eyes.

"I recorded a short film about quantum physics that was on TV“, you whispered, opening your eyes while he kept his still closed. "If you like, you can come upstairs with me and we can watch it together."

The short movie played as background music while you sat on your couch and kissed until your lips were swollen and your lungs were gasping for air.When he broke away from you for a moment, all he could do was whisper. "I'm addicted to you."

You had tried to keep your relationship a secret, and had failed miserably.

It had taken a psychopath, a hostage, and an explosion for you to fall into each other's arms and for Spencer to kiss you stormily in front of the team. His fingers dug into your skin and would surely leave bruises, but you didn't care. You had escaped the explosion by a hair and Spencer couldn't help but thank all the gods and pull you close to him as you stood in front of him.

"I thought you had been in the building“, he breathed as he gently pushed you off of him to look at you. "I thought I'd lost you."

A tear rolled down your cheek, which he wiped away with his thumb. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Spence." He pressed another kiss to your mouth before someone cleared their throat. The team stood just a few steps away from you, watching you, which was pretty embarrassing. Except for Hotch, everyone looked pleased and delighted, but you also didn't miss Hotch pressing a bill into JJ's hand.

"That's why you didn't want to go on that blind date I set you up with“, Derek grinned, putting a brotherly arm around Spencer's shoulders. "Pretty boy has a girlfriend."

Nothing ever felt so good as sharing a bed with Spencer after that day. You were half on top of him, he had his arm wrapped around you, and your legs were tangled under the covers. His fingers stroked your bare back and yours danced across his chest. He took a deep breath.

"Are you all right?", you asked, looking at him.

He swallowed. "I know we haven't been together that long and it's probably way too soon, but I almost lost you today and I can't keep it to myself any longer." Gently, he pushed you off of him and propped himself up on his elbow so he had to look down at you. "You're not just my favorite person, Y/N. You inspire me every day and you complete me in every way. You are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with." He put his hand to your cheek and you snuggled against his warm skin. "I love you, Y/N."

- tags below -

@mollygetssherlockcoffee / @averyhotchner / @ravenclawrandomness

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #derek morgan #Emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut

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laurensprentiss · 3 years

Text

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 13:

Gif credit: @hqtchner

A/N: I toyed with several ideas for this one, but I wanted the reader to be strong in her own right which is why this takes the direction it does.

Warnings: Strong depictions of violence, assault, blood, vomiting. Graphic injury, choking, gun violence.

———

“What you remember saves you.” - W.S Merwin

———

“You don’t like what I’ve done with the place?”

“Jordan.” You breathe. “What did you do?”

His jaw sets. His expression goes from glee to fury and he’s next to you in a flash, nose to nose, dragging your head back by the hair on the nape of your neck. A wince escapes your mouth when the pulling sends a sting up your scalp.

“What do you mean, what did I do? Isn’t it obvious?” He sneers, punctuating his words with another pull of your hair.

You cry out in pain, your neck straining. The rabid look in his eyes and his bared teeth send shivers down your spine.

He continues, “I made sure you were going to stay all...mine.” He whispers, releasing his grip, smoothing the top of your head. “Isn’t it sweet? I did it all so I could have you all to myself… and instead of thanking me, you’re acting like you’re above me. Like you always do. Maybe I need to teach you how to be grateful-”

“I’ll be grateful.” You offer in a quick breath. “I mean- I am. I am grateful. I was just so…” You swallow thickly, tearing your eyes away from the pictures, “Surprised that you did all this. For me.” You fight the tears pricking your eyes.

“You mean that?”

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. “Yes. I do.”

“Good. Y’know all I ever wanted was us to be together? When you broke up with me, I admit, I was angry. I thought you were fucking somebody else.” He paces the length of the room and that’s when your gaze falls to the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “But I realised you couldn’t possibly.”

You brace yourself when his gaze falls to his handiwork on the walls.

“But then…” He inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you with him.” His volume rises steadily. “I send you gifts, I send you letters, I give you clues, I even draw blood for you and you repay me by parading around another man?!”

You cry out when he delivers a blow to the left side of your face, a crack resounding in the room. Your skin blisters red hot where he strikes you, you swear he’s torn open some skin on your cheek. It sends your head spinning, you figure you’re already nursing a concussion, this just makes it worse.

“That’s not-”

“Don’t you interrupt me.” He spits, his face close enough for you to smell the bourbon on his breath. “You had him come to my house today, try to scare me? He thinks he’s a big powerful man, FBI… that badge doesn’t mean shit, he doesn’t know who I am.”

“Jordan-”

“What was it about him anyway? You could’ve had me, you know, we could’ve been a dynasty.” He’s grandstanding. Always did have a problem with his fragile ego. He turns his back to you, scanning the pictures on the wall. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m having it taken care of.” He mutters.

Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, you couldn’t possible have thought that I’d let him live?”

Your heart skips. The ‘other guy’ that was to be taken care of - Hotch.

“Jordan, no. It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He turns slowly, rage behind his eyes that’s only thinly veiled by a psychotic smile. “There’s nothing between us! Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, don’t do this.” You plead.

“Why do you care?”

“-What?”

“Why… do you… care?” His eyes are fanatical, nostrils flared. “If nothing happened between you, why do you care what happens to him?”

You know why now.

“Because I don’t want anyone to die! Him, Emily, anybody! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You stutter through your sobs. “Please don’t do this.”

“You don’t want him to die? How stupid do you think I am?” He grabs the back of your head and directs you to a picture of you and Hotch on the gazebo - the day you’d met. “You look at him like that because he’s a friend?” He spits.

He’s right, though - that’s the thing.

You don’t know how you didn’t realise sooner, how you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see your own face when you were around him, but the way you look at him, your smile.

You don’t think you’ve looked at anybody like that before.

Tears roll down your cheeks now, eyes welling over.

He smooths over your hair, straightening out his own shirt. “I will make it quick though. Humane. I owe him that much.”

“What?”

“I owe him. How do you think you got here?” When you can’t formulate the words he continues, “Hm, let me spell it out for you.” He continues his rapid pacing, fingers compulsively scratching his neck. “We break up, you betray me, so I leave the country. I come back, try to get you back, you betray me, again. FBI man comes into the picture, his girlfriend feels neglected, said girlfriend then conveniently runs into me at a bar after an argument, confides in me and starts sleeping with me. She’s a real peach, though. Total Type-A, wouldn’t let me fuck her raw.” He adds, rolling his eyes.

You feel nauseous.

You wonder if Hotch knows.

He goes on, “I fuck her, she tells me everything I want to know. Including the fact that she thought he was cheating on her.” He laughs bitterly. “I thought we might have had something when you called me a few months ago, remember that? That was a good time.” Your stomach turns when you think back to the worst mistake you’d ever made. “But then you stopped taking my calls, I put two together from there, figured you were fucking him. I knew then that he had to die.” He rolls his eyes.

His smile reveals a row of eerily straight teeth but there’s nothing behind his eyes except a sick kind of glee.

“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you, he never touched me.” You plead with him, desperately. You reckon with the fact that if you couldn’t regain control of this situation, Hotch would die. “Look, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“I swear. Anything. Just call it off, please.” He considers your statement for a moment, kneeling down between your knees again. He makes a point to flash you his gun, the silver glinting, before reaching for a switchblade that’s tucked into his back pocket. You flinch when he brings it purposely closer to you but he cuts you free.

“I’m going to test you. Stay here with me. You run, I kill him.” He lays the knife flat against your bruised cheek, “Then I kill you.” He whispers. You wince when the sharp edge breaks a thin layer of skin and you feel a warm trail of blood on your cheek.

You nod desperately, agreeing. “I swear. I’ll do anything, just call it off.”

Just as he finishes cutting you free, his phone vibrates against the wooden table under the window. He excuses himself, face lighting up for a moment. You try your best to hear, but the voice on the other end is indistinguishable.

Jordan’s responses are short.

“Fitz.”

“Hello?” He presses the phone closer to his ear. “Lawrence? It’s done?” He smiles at the response from the other side.

“30 minutes.” He hangs up and rattles off a quick text message before setting the phone down again.

He sighs, concealing his unhinged glee when he turns to look at you. “Bad news babe.” He says tutting, knowingly with a disturbing smile. “I know I said I’d call it off but,” he waves the phone in the air, “it’s already done. Your friend, Aaron?”

Oh please, no. Don’t say it.

“He’s dead.”

———

Once the first bang reverberates in the nurses’ station, time seems to move in slow motion. McCall yells for everybody to get down, cocking his gun. Panic erupts for a moment before everybody falls to the ground, the first shot already fired.

Where it comes from, who fires first, it isn’t clear, the whole thing in reality is over in a matter of seconds but time still seems to stop.

Now, McCall kneels over a dead body, hyper-aware of eyes on him, “He’s gone.” He whispers.

A hand grips his shoulder from behind as he stares down at the corpse in front of him laying in a pool of blood, three bullet holes in the chest.

His ears still ring.

“Hey. Emily’s fine. I had two cops posted outside her door.” He turns to find Hotch, who can’t tear his eyes away from Officer Lawrence’s dead body in front of them.

They’re about to let medical personnel clear out the area and wheel him away in a body bag when Hotch spots something in Lawrence’s scrub pockets.

“Wait! Hold it a sec?” He asks, retrieving a piece of paper and cellphone from Lawrence. They make their way back to Emily’s hospital room in unison.

McCall looks at him, puzzled. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“That was the first person you ever shot, right? He’s dead. You’re allowed to not be okay.”

“I’m fine - I need to focus. I need to get her back.” He’d be lying if he said his hands weren’t trembling but he has more pressing matters on his hand. The need to get you back safe and sound outweighs any personal conflict for him. He unfolds the piece of paper, muttering aloud a series of numbers. “It’s a phone number. What’d you wanna bet it’s Jordan?” He does a double take when he sees his own name written in capital letters on the other side of the paper, passing it to McCall.

“Some vendetta, hm? He was sent to kill you.” McCall takes the phone from Hotch and starts to dial when Hotch places a stalling arm on his.

“Wait.”

He dials Garcia’s number deftly, asks her to search for a location on the number before they call it, but to his disappointment, it’s a prepaid. He then has Garcia set up a track and trace before he lets McCall dial the number.

“Ready, Garcia?”

The phone rings three times before it’s answered, Jordan’s voice curt and straight to the point, assuming it’s Lawrence. Hotch can hear Garcia’s typing and beeping but when McCall doesn’t say anything, Jordan takes matters into his own hands.

“It’s done?” Jordan asks outright.

“Yes.” McCall replies with little inflection, keeping his voice even so as to not arouse suspicion. Jordan gives McCall a time - 30 minutes, before snapping the phone shut.

McCall tries the number again, but it’s dead. Destroyed.

“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asks desperately.

“No, sir, it was barely long enough to triangulate the call, I’m sorry.”

“Keep searching, Garcia, we need this address. Look for something in isolation, out of the way. It’s gotta mean something to him.”

“Yes, sir. Typing as we speak.”

Hotch rubs an exasperated hand over his beard, “Y’know the media can’t get wind of this, if he has access to a TV or radio and sees I’m alive? He’ll kill her.” He shudders as the words leave his mouth, making way for the possibility that he does not want to reckon with.

You might already be dead.

He dials quickly “Chief Barnes? I need a favour.”

———

He’s been pacing the length of Emily’s hospital room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Chief Barnes to call in every favour he can to keep the media at bay so they can keep up the charade. He increases the TV volume opposite Emily’s bed when he sees a news report flash across the scene.

“Good evening, everybody. We come to you live tonight with some breaking news.”

He braces himself. Did Barnes manage to cover the hit on him?

“The daughters of two US Ambassadors have reportedly been involved in what appears to be a multi-car collision in the Virginia countryside, earlier tonight.”

Two pictures appear side by side of you and Emily.

“The daughter of Ambassador Prentiss was rushed to hospital earlier tonight and remains in critical condition at Bridgepoint Hospital after sustaining multiple injuries. The daughter of the US Ambassador to France however, is reported to be missing. The Ambassador himself is reportedly unaware of his daughter’s condition, presumed to be en-route to Paris tonight. Three people were pronounced dead at the scene, including Metro PD officers Evan Matthews and Howard Denton.”

He waits anxiously for any mention of his own name or Jordan, Lawrence, but the anchor passes over to the correspondent.

He sighs in relief, just as his phone rings.

“Garcia?”

“I think I finally have a location on Fitzgerald. I checked for any and all properties under Senator Fitzgerald’s name, his second and third wives, his spawn’s name, even the Fitzgerald Family Trust. Nada.” She pauses for breath. “So. I dug down deeper. I searched instead for any properties under Sloan Marie Fitzgerald - still nothing. But then I chanced a search under her maiden name, Hamilton, and wouldn’t you know - the Hamilton family had a cabin between Rock Creek Park and Montgomery County. The late Mrs. Fitzgerald would take him to said cabin most summers before she died.”

“Alright, good work. Send us-”

“I'm not even going to let you finish that sentence, because it’s quite frankly insulting. Coordinates are on their way to you now, Sirs.”

Hotch huffs a laugh, it’s the most he can muster right now. He knows he owes Garcia a massive bouquet of flowers after all this is over.

He grabs McCall by his jacket. “Suit up. We’ve got an address.”

———

‘He’s dead.’

The onset of shock and unmistakable rise of nausea had caused you to retch violently and empty the contents of your stomach into the nearest toilet.

Your legs had given out then, and you’re now planted on a dusty armchair, finding yourself staring into nothingness, your body still stinging with the shock and injuries you’d sustained.

It’s all you’ve done for the past fourty something minutes. The blood stays rushing in your ears, and the pounding in your head is unrelenting. You haven’t said a word since, your body’s energy drained. You’re almost catatonic, unable to even shed a few tears for Hotch’s death.

He’s dead. He’s dead because of you.

You think back to the first time you met, he’d been so bright eyed and optimistic. Disarming. You think about the way he’d told you about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future as a profiler. He’d had so much to live for. All of that had been ripped away from him because he’d gotten involved in your case. It was your fault he was dead.

And you didn’t know how you were going to make it out of this. Your limbs feel like concrete - fatigue, shock and grief make it hard to formulate any kind of rational thought. Jordan’s hand comes to smooth the top of your head once again, but the gesture is far from comforting or loving.

“It’s okay. You’ll see in time, this was for the best. This way, there aren’t any distractions.” He whispers. He’s been pacing the length of the cabin, repeatedly checking his second burner as though he’s awaiting some news.

He resumes his pacing when you finally break your silence, your voice hoarse.

“You killed a man.” You whisper.

“What’s that?”

“You killed a man.” You sob quietly. “You had someone killed, that doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“Oh I did more than just have your little lover killed. I made sure your father and that Prentiss bitch were taken care of too.”

Your vision tunnels, a high-pitched whine penetrating your skull. You feel like the ground has just been ripped from under you, like you’re falling. You can feel your heart shatter, the splintering fragments of your life piercing your skin.

“My father? He’s not here. He’s-”

He glances at his watch. “-On his way to Paris?” You feel the bile rising again. “I know. Like I said, I’m having it all taken care of. They’re all dead, babe - or will be, soon.” He brings a hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cut. “Don’t you see? I did it so I could have you all to myself.”

The glee in his voice provokes something in you, a rage you’ve never felt before. You figure you have nothing else to lose, everything and everyone you ever loved is dead, you’d either fight and die quicker, or you’d stay and die slowly.

In a move that stuns even you, you spit on Jordan’s face and bring your hand up to strike him notwithstanding the piercing pain in your ribs. The flat of your palm makes sharp contact with his bearded cheek. The sound echoes in the room, and your own hand stings from the force, but a minute satisfaction settles into your bones.

He takes a minute to steady himself, but when he turns to look at you, his eyes flash with something you’ve never seen in a person before. In one fell swoop, he drags you to stand by your hair, pushing you into a glass frame against the wall.

The glass shatters, puncturing the skin on your cheek and forearm where you bear the brunt of the impact. He lands two blows to your stomach, causing you to keel over, winding you. The pain blooms to your already bruised ribs, your breaths ragged. He grabs you then by the throat, pinning you against the wall, your breaths coming short and constricted.

He shakes you against the wall, his hand tight around your throat, cutting off your air. “You ever pull something like that again, I’ll kill you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He growls in a low voice. “Do you understand me?” You can feel the blood pumping in your face, your eyes starting to bulge.

You drive your knee into his crotch with all the force you can muster, exactly like Hotch had taught you. You then go for his shin that only gives you mere seconds to grab your breath when he lets you go in pain.

You fall with him, knees giving out when you gasp for breath, and when you see him charging towards you again, you reach to your right for a dusty glass vase that sits on a single table. You manage to get yourself back on your feet right as he’s about to make contact with you again, the butt of the vase smashing into his skull.

He cries out in pain as he falls to the ground again on all fours, blood streaming down his face. A gash on his forehead seeps blood and several pieces of glass are embedded in his face.

You’re still trying to catch your own breath when you spot the silver glint of his 9mm catch the light in his back pocket.

This is your chance.

You half-crawl, half-run to him, landing a violent kick to his stomach to strike him down. You grab the gun from his back pocket, stumbling a little from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands trembling. You check the magazine and load it as fast as your hands will allow.

You grip the Beretta just as Hotch had taught you, wrapping your dominant hand around the magazine, your index finger parallel to the chamber. Your other hand wraps around your dominant, as you stand over him.

“Get up.” You snarl. “Get up, NOW!” You order him through your coughs.

He turns around slowly, slipping twice on his way up, groaning with the exertion. His face mirrors your own, a gash on his lip and forehead, blood streaming down his cheek.

He chuckles darkly, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that are covered in his blood. “Oh… you think you’re hot shit. You even know how to use that thing? Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Your body aches feverishly and you swear you could pass out at any minute, vision blurry. You can feel your grip loosening and you’re trying to centre yourself when Jordan takes advantage of your momentary slip.

He lunges for you in a flash, knife in hand.

———

“We’re about a mile out, I want sirens and lights off. He can’t know we’re coming.” Hotch says into his radio. He’s watching the road ahead as they get deeper into the woods, the off-road terrain making it hard to keep control of the SUV.

They’re backed up at rear by three MPD police cars, Chief Fuller’s attempt at making nice with Hotch after their earlier altercation.

He swallows thickly, his mouth like cotton. He knows he can’t afford one wrong move, not here. Not with you. He needs to get you back. He made a promise to Emily.

He’ll die trying.

He keeps a firm grip on your chain, rubbing it one last time for steady luck before tucking it into his shirt pocket.

A clearing of trees reveals another path to them. It leads off into the distance, to a small wooden cabin around 80 feet away. It’s illuminated by amber light emanating from a single window.

“Alright, guys. Nice and slow, headlights off, we’re gonna dismount now. Everybody out.” He whispers into the comms once they clear another 50 feet.

Leaves rustle underneath their feet as they stealthily approach the cabin, guns cocked. Hotch has three cops flanking him and McCall brings up the rear, covering the back exit.

They’re almost at the entrance when a loud bang resounds from inside, and Hotch short circuits, his knuckles white around his glock.

Inside the cabin, you send Jordan flying with a shot to his shoulder, the smell of gun smoke burning your nostrils. Your hands tremble violently, your mind temporarily blanking - you feel like you’re swimming. Your ears ring from the noise, a high-pitched whine piercing your brain.

There’s another bang almost immediately after Jordan stumbles backwards but you’re sure you only fired one shot.

Jordan’s body in front of you is your only focal point, so much so that it’s only when you see McCall and two cops approach him writhing on the floor that you come back into your body.

You realise the second bang had been them kicking down the front door. Your hands on the Beretta loosen just slightly and you let out a deep exhale. The voices in the room are still swimming as your brain slowly catches up.

“Grab her.” McCall’s voice calls out. He shouts into the comms that he needs medics, and suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of a hand on your wrist and a body next to you. You reassure yourself that Jordan is on the ground so you let your hands fall limp, dropping the gun and it falls to the ground with a sharp clack. Your eyes are still trained on McCall pressing on Jordan’s wound.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” The voice cuts through your still-ringing ears.

You know that voice.

You’d know that voice anywhere.

Your heart thunders, and your lips start to tremble as you try to reconcile everything you thought was reality with what’s really in front of you.

You turn slowly to find an achingly familiar pair of warm hazel eyes.

He’s alive.

“Aaron?” You sob. You reach out for him but he catches you before you can stumble, his arms steady around your waist. He whispers into your hair, bringing a protective hand up to cradle your head as you sob into his chest.

“It’s okay. I got you. I told you I’d come for you.”

His voice is the last thing you hear before you black out, your body finally offering you some well-earned reprieve.

———

Tags: @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy @archiveofadragon @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams @slxtherinchxser

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aereres · 3 years

Text

For You, I'd Become Hercules | 2 | - Auston Matthews

Summary: A happy life with Tyson. That was what you and Auston had been expecting ever since you had moved in. The universe, though, had other plans.

A/N: Here it is! Oh-my-God I couldn’t wait to finally post part two!

Word Count: 5,3k

Warnings: smut, lots of panic and crying, stalking, creepy people, court and lawsuits lmao I think that’s all

“Daddy,” Tyson whined when Emily, his kindergarten teacher, told the parents it was time to leave. “I don’t want you to go,”

“Tys, c’mon, be a good boy,” Auston kneeled near his little boy, gently caressing his back. “You’ll have fun with all the other kids,”

“I’ll pick you up in only a couple of hours, baby,” you whispered, wiping the tear that slipped past Tyson’s eye before kissing his cheek. Your own eyes were glossy, it was hard for you to actually see.

When Auston looked up at you to find some sort of help, you saw just how much everything was affecting him too. Tyson was slowly growing up, already headed off to Kindergarten, and it was especially hard for your lover to let him go. Auston had been his father for years, but he had never thought seeing him start school was going to be that hard, never.

If you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings, you would have thought it was an angel calling for Tyson; instead, it was a little girl dressed in yellow, her red hair in a high ponytail. “Do you wanna color with me?”

Tyson’s teary eyes left Auston to settle on the little girl, who was pushing a blank paper his way, a bag full of crayons in her other hand. The little boy nodded his head, wiping the remaining tears on his cheeks quickly before sitting down next to her, leaving you and Auston on your own.

“Do we really have to leave?” Auston whispered, watching over his kid, who was smiling like crazy already.

“I think we should,” you mumbled with a strangled giggle, noticing the glances the teacher was giving the two of you, the only parents left inside the classroom. You left the overly decorated room after saying goodbye to Tyson and his new friend, Tiffany.

Your hand slipped into Auston’s when the door was shut behind you, heading towards the car to get back home. The drive was silent, Auston’s hand still linked with yours over the console as he kept his eyes on the packed road.

He missed the turn to reach your condo, instead driving straight away from the city until he reached the top of a hill. He turned the car off just then, finally letting you take in the landscape, the CN Tower seeming so distant from your spot.

The silence inside the car was enough to activate the crowd of thoughts that had been sitting inside your head for what felt like months, your thumb mindlessly caressing the back of Auston’s hand.

After the family trip to Cabo, everything had seemed to move so fast. You had been busy with work, but tried to spend as much time as possible with your boys, which then led to Auston asking you to move in.

It had been a big step, if you had to admit it. Your life after officially living with him and Tyson, though, had become the best life somebody could ask for. You didn’t mind waking up in the middle of the night to Tyson’s crying because of a bad dream, or you didn’t mind packing lunches for three one bit. Secretly, it was the life you had wished for ever since you had been Tyson’s age.

Auston sniffled from your side, catching your attention and finally snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked at him, noticing his red, swollen eyes and his still wet cheeks.

“Aus-”

“He’s just- he’s growing so fast,” he whispered, biting on his lip as he squeezed your hand. “I’m really happy, you know, just kind of shocked he’s leaving us already,”

“It’s just kindergarten, baby,” you reassured him, wiping his cheeks with your palms before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“He’ll be in college before we know it, Y/N,”

You laughed at that, making a smile appear on his own lips as he turned the car back on. “Let’s just focus on the moment,” you whispered, smiling his way before leaning in to kiss him again. “And he’s already made a friend, there’s nothing to worry about,”

“What’s her name, again?”

“Tiffany,” the glare you gave him was enough to make him laugh. “Auston, you’ll have to start remembering his friends’ names, from now on,”

“I will, I will!”

Tyson was running to you with a wide smile the moment you hopped off the car, tackling your legs in a hug. “Mommy!”

“Hey, little man!” You said excitedly, ruffling his hair before sending a quick wave to the teacher. As you propped him into your arms, he started talking about his day, he showed you his drawings when you were strapping him into his seat, and you weren’t shocked to see him fast asleep in the backseat just a few minutes later.

The ride back to your condo was short, with the radio playing lightly in the background as Tyson’s slow breathing filled the car. He didn’t wake up when you propped him back in your arms when you parked the car in the building’s garage, but snapped his eyes open excitedly when he heard the sound of his father’s and godfather’s voice.

“Mitchy!”

You let him to the ground, watching him run towards Mitch and hug his legs in less than a second. “Little man!”

You walked towards the kitchen, reaching the three of them and leaning against Auston’s side. Tyson had already been lifted on top of the island, his shoes barely off as he gained the attention of everyone before he started his monologue about his first school day.

Mitch was listening closely, giving Tyson every ounce of his attention as Auston smiled tenderly. “And I also made a friend! Her name is Tiffany!”

“Tyson is already finding girlfriends, I see,” Mitch teased, tickling his tummy as the two of them laughed. “‘Atta boy!”

Tyson laughed, finally able to skim away from Mitch’s hands and finish his story about the day. By the end, his eyes were droopy, barely staying awake as he tried to focus on what his godfather was saying.

“Let’s go take a nap, Tys,” you whispered, lifting him into your arms before you walked to his room, gently helping him inside his bed. You let your eyes stay on his sleeping form for a little while, gently carding a hand through his hair as you zoned out.

You didn’t hear the front door close, but you were snapped out of your thoughts by a gentle hand on your shoulder, your head snapping around to meet Auston’s eyes.

“Thank you for picking him up,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close to his chest.

“Of course,” you breathed out as you leaned on the tip of your toes, meeting his lips in a soft kiss. His hands sneaked down to your waist, holding you tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

“Oh my God,” he chuckled between kisses. “Not here,”

You giggled, remembering just then you were still in Tyson’s room. He picked you up in less than a second, expertly leading the two of you to his bedroom right after shutting Tyson’s door.

Everything seemed to move so quickly as he sat on your shared bed, your legs straddling his waist as the two of you made out. Your shirt came off pretty quickly, followed soon by his, and you let your hands wander around the newfound skin of his chest.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly, his breathing uneven as he let his forehead rest against yours. You nodded your head, grabbing his hands and putting them on your body, giving him your consent. His eyes darkened, positioning you on your back, his body sliding back on top of yours in less than a second.

What had happened after that became history, just two bodies moving against each other in their own first, love-filled dance. You found yourself lying in Auston’s arms a few hours later, your eyes still groggy from the nap and your body feeling pleasantly sore.

“Hey,” Auston whispered, his fingers running through your hair as he smiled at you.

“What time is it?”

“Just a little after five,”

You mindlessly drew shapes on his chest as you relaxed against him, never letting your eyes leave his.

“I love you,” he whispered, everything he had been thinking about spilling from his mouth before he could have even stopped himself. “And it’s fine if you still don’t, you know? I just felt like you should have known,”

Your heart stopped beating for a quick second at his words, a big smile forming on your lips right after his declaration. “Auston?”

He didn’t respond, just hummed your way as his eyes stayed on your intertwined hands. “I love you, too,”

-----

Tyson ran towards you after another day of school, his entire body excited for what was about to come right after the two of you would get inside the car: his first-ever ice hockey practice.

The small duffle bag was already waiting for him in the backseat, with the tiny skates and the hockey stick they wouldn’t be using for a while, since everyone in the course still wasn’t able to skate.

“Mommy!” He squealed excitedly, jumping in your arms before having you buckle him inside his seat.

“Ready for practice, big boy?” You asked, kissing the top of his head quickly. “We’re picking up auntie Steph on the way,”

He smiled excitedly, looking out of the window as you stepped around the car, closing his door behind yourself. You felt like you were being watched again, the same feeling you had felt that morning when you had dropped Tyson off.

The front of the school was still packed with mothers, fathers, grandparents picking up their little ones, but it didn’t take much for you to figure out who was looking - rather, glaring - at you.

She stood to the side, sketchily smoking a cigarette as her black hair flowed over her shoulders because of the breeze, showing off a big tattoo near her neck. Her eyes never left yours as you stepped inside the car, giving her one last look through the rearview mirror before speeding off towards the rink.

Tyson talked your ears off about his day, but it was hard for you to follow through with his monologue as your mind went back to the woman in the parking lot. You picked Steph up quickly before heading towards the rink, keeping quiet the entire car ride until you unbuckled Tyson from his seat.

“You okay?” Steph whispered, her hand placed carefully on your back as you grabbed Tyson’s bag for him. “You seem kind of shocked,”

“I’ll tell you later,” you mumbled, letting your eyes scan the rink’s parking lot to reassure yourself Tyson was safe. Entering the doors, you were greeted by the coach: a patient-looking man in his fifties whose face lightened up as soon as he saw Tyson.

“Tyson Matthews?” He asked, kneeling down to your boy’s height to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

He later pointed you and Steph to the stands, where a couple more moms and dads were sitting, looking at their kids on the ice.

“You’re worrying me, Y/N,” Steph admitted when the two of you sat down, your leg bouncing anxiously as you looked around the rink for any sign of the woman. “What’s happening?”

“This morning I brought Tyson to kindergarten,” you started, your eyes finally meeting hers as you explained your side of the story. “I felt like I was being watched, you know, as if someone was looking at me,

“I picked Tys up earlier and this woman was watching us, it was creepy,” you admitted, taking a quick look at your phone before letting your eyes find Tyson in the middle of the rink, laughing with another kid. “I’ve never seen her, no idea on who she is,”

“Maybe you should tell Auston,”

“But what if it’s just a coincidence?” You whispered, rubbing your temples with a sigh. “I’ll just- I’ll wait a little and see what happens. He’s already so busy with practice and all,”

“I just want you and Tys to be safe, alright?”

“Yeah,” you muttered under your breath. You tried to relax, letting the sound of skates on ice and kids’ laughter lull you into a state of calmness until almost all the anxiety left your body for the night.

Tyson quickly waved your way, smiling up at you as he showed you he had already learned how to skate. With a proud smile on your lips, you took a video for Auston, and decided to let the entire matter about the woman leave your mind.

Your kid was on the ice for the first time, it was a moment you just couldn’t forget.

-----

You were sure nothing would ever make you as happy as seeing Tyson on the ice did. He seemed to love hockey just like his father did, spending hours on hours on the iced surface just to have some fun.

He had been able to go to one of the team’s practices, he had skated next to his dad, shot pucks as best as he could, and played around with the coaches and the rest of the team. It looked like the kid and the ice were made for one another, and you and Auston couldn’t help but be extremely proud of your boy.

Standing by the glass of the rink, you watched Tyson with his teammates and coach, running after their respective pucks with mini sticks. Aaliyah was on the phone with you, ranting about what her current boyfriend had done during the previous days, her voice annoyed.

“And guess what! He was at the bar with his friends all that time!”

“No way,” you muttered in shock, stifling a laugh when you heard your best friend pouring herself what you could only guess was wine.

“Yeah, and when I went up to talk to him he became super bitchy,” Aaliyah sighed, probably shaking her head. “I’m proud to call him my ex, now,”

“It was time you dropped that asshole,” you admitted, letting your eyes scan the rink, finding Tyson in the middle of the ice, handling his puck with a smile on his lips. When you looked up, though, you realized there was more to the picture.

Behind him, right on the opposite side of where you were standing, stood the woman. The one with the black hair, with the tattoo on her neck. Seeing her there made it clear: it wasn't just a coincidence anymore.

"Man, that guy was truly a douche. He couldn't even make me cum," Aaliyah mumbled in your ear, but you barely even registered her words.

You stared the woman down, deciding what your next move would have been. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"A, I'll call you later," you muttered quickly before ending the call, making your way around the rink to confront the woman. She had been at your neck for days, following you and Tyson around. You were done with it.

She was quick to run away from you, but it didn't stop you from chasing her. You had made it to the exit of the rink, but when your eyes scanned the parking lot, she was nowhere to be seen. No trace of her around you.

Breathless and angry, you went back to your previous place on the stands. Nothing was holding you back anymore, at that point.

You needed to find that woman.

-----

“No, I don’t think we should advertise it like that, honestly-” your co-worker Martha began speaking, the loud sound of your ringtone interrupting the conversation. Looking down at the screen, you realized Tyson’s kindergarten was calling.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this one,” you muttered, heart beating out of your chest as you left the meeting room. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Y/L/N? I’m Emily, Tyson’s teacher,” the woman on the other side spoke. “I called to inform you that someone has been trying to pick Tyson up the entire morning,”

You stopped in your tracks, your eyes bulging out of your head as Emily kept explaining. “She was consistent, didn’t want to leave after we explained to her she wasn’t authorized to pick Tyson up,”

“Can you- can you give me a brief description of her?”

“Uh- dark, long hair, tall, in her twenties,”

It was her. The woman that had been following you all that time. And she had tried to pick Tyson up.

“You didn’t let her take Tyson, right?” You asked, tears springing to your eyes as you panicked.

“Obviously, we didn’t,” she reassured you. “Are you okay, Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“I- uh, I’ve been feeling worried about Tyson’s safety. That woman has been following us for quite a while, now,”

“We can ban her, if it would make you feel safer,” Emily gently said. “I’d also recommend talking to the authorities about it, ma’am,”

“I’ll be there to pick Tyson up in ten,” you shakily said, ending the conversation with the teacher with a quick ‘goodbye’ before leaving your workplace. You had never felt that scared in your entire life, barely holding on as you pulled up to the kindergarten, your heart beating out of your chest.

Before entering the school, you grabbed your phone, dialing Auston’s number. Just as you thought you were going to be sent to his voicemail, his voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Babe?”

“Auston, we- we have a problem,” you sniffled, running a hand through your hair as you looked out of the car window.

“What’s happening, baby?” He asked, sounding worried, too. “Please, talk to me,”

“I’m picking Tyson up right now,” you whispered, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Can you come home as soon as possible? We’ll talk there,”

“Sure,” he stuttered out. “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, I’ll see you later,”

When you had finally reached home, Tyson speeded off to his room, obviously after greeting his father. You were sure you had never seen Auston that worried in your entire life, a frown masking his face when he saw your teary gaze.

Without even saying a word, he wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in a warm hug as you finally let the tears fall. You felt extremely anxious; your worries for Tyson, for Auston, for your own self, were overwhelming.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” Auston whispered in your hair, swaying your bodies to lull you.

“This- this woman,” you sobbed, your tears staining his hoodie. “She’s been following Tyson and me for months,”

Auston’s shock was evident when he quickly cupped your cheeks, attentively making eye contact with you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just- I thought it was just a coincidence. She was always at the kindergarten, I thought she was just there to pick up her kid,” you admitted. “But then I also started seeing her at the rink, and today Emily called me to tell me that woman had attempted to pick Tyson up multiple times,”

“Fuck,” Auston muttered, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at you. “We should probably call the police,” He sat on the couch, wrapping his arms around you when you settled next to him. “Can you maybe describe her for me?”

“Black hair, skinny, tall,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if it’s helpful, but she always wears red lipstick,”

Something clicked inside Auston’s mind, you could have told. Pictures of her crowded his mind as he tried comparing her and the woman you had described. Scrambling for something he remembered her for, he could only come up with one of the most obvious things about her. Tattoos.

“Does she have a neck tattoo? Close to the shoulder area,”

With your eyebrows scrunched, you nodded your head, remembering quite easily about the inked skin you had noticed. His head dropped in his hands, making your heart beat against your ribcage heavily. “What are you thinking, Aus?”

“That’s Jessica,”

Tyson’s mother.

-----

Auston had never thought she would have come back. She had made it clear that night: she wasn’t going to come back; and yet, there she was. She had been following his son and his girlfriend around, creeping around them like a stalker, scaring them to death.

They didn’t deserve it, at all, was all he thought. He had never seen Y/N that shocked in his entire life, tears of fear and worry streaming down her face. It made his blood boil, it made him angry to see her like that. Jessica was going to pay.

With a sigh, he looked at himself in the foggy mirror: the dark bags under his eyes - the first thing you could notice about his appearance - were the result of a couple sleepless nights spent to figure out what he was going to do, how he was going to help you. His unshaven stubble peeked out, reminding him of all the mornings spent in front of papers, trying to solve the big knot that was child custody, something he had been so clueless about for his entire life.

And then came his eyes. They were filled with anger, with frustration.

He had been the happiest man on Earth ever since Y/N had come back in his life, stealing his heart all over again; Jessica wasn’t going to ruin his life just when he was at his happiest.

-----

“So we should settle for a restraining order?” Auston asked, mindlessly stepping around your room as he talked to his lawyer. “I’m afraid this might need more than just a restraining order,”

You sighed when you heard the doorbell, stepping out of your room and finding Tyson playing with Ema, who had been kind enough to help you and Auston during the complicated situation you had been going through. You had kept Tyson away from kindergarten for his safety, what had previously happened with Jessica was enough to scare you to death.

“I’ll take the door,” you whispered to Ema, who was silently looking at her grandson, a worried look on her features.

The doorbell rang again, this time snapping the toddler out of his thoughts. He latched onto your side, a clueless smile planting itself onto his lips as he waited for you to open the door.

It shocked you to see that familiar tattoo so closely, every detail imprinting itself in your memory. Jessica stood in front of you with all her pride, her eyes gingerly falling on your face before flying down to Tyson.

“Look at my baby,” she whispered under her breath, kneeling down to the kid’s height to take a good look at him. Putting all the shock aside, your protectiveness took over, pushing Tyson away from her.

“Don’t even look at him,” you hissed, eyes cold as they found hers.

“Baby, the lawyer is asking-”

Auston stopped in his tracks when he saw who was at the door, quickly stepping towards the two of you to stand by your side. Ema also joined the scene, picking Tyson up and sending the mother of her grandchild a glare before leaving the room.

“Jessica, what do you want?” Auston was quick to ask, his voice filled with venom.

“Auston,” Jessica greeted him, smirking your way. “I want my kid back,”

“After everything you’ve done to us?!” Auston raised his voice. “You left him on my doormat, Jessica. You left us alone with no help and now you come back?! You’ll never be able to see my son again,”

“Our son,” she specified, looking at you as she reminded you who really was the mother of the kid you loved so much, a pang of pain hitting your heart.

“Don’t even try to consider him yours,” you hissed, clenching your jaw. You had had enough. “Tyson doesn’t have a mother because you abandoned him and never came back,”

“You will never be his mother, no matter how hard you try,”

“At least I try to be present in his life, Jessica,” you said, your fists clenched into balls as you stared her down. “At least I show him love, I treat him as my own son. You won’t take him away from us, no matter how hard you try,”

“We’ll see you in court,” Auston said sharply from your side, wrapping his arm around your waist to stabilize you, to support you.

“Oh, is that how things are going to go?” Jessica huffed, rolling her eyes. “Just let me see my kid,”

“You don’t even call him by his name, do you expect us to let you meet him?” you snapped. “We will see you in court, and you should leave the building before I call the police,”

“You won’t forget about me, girl,” she hissed before walking away, leaving you to stare at her back as she left. Your heart was still beating against your ribcage, so fast from all the adrenaline when Auston pulled you back inside your house, wrapping his arms around you in a firm hug.

“Auston, I-” you cried, sniffling against his chest as you finally let yourself relax in his hold. “I’m so scared,”

“She’s never going to take Tyson from us, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I promise,”

“Mommy?” Tyson’s voice was small, you barely even heard it. “Mommy, don’t cry,”

Even more tears left your eyes at his words, and he was quick to find himself in your arms, hugging you tightly.

“Oh, Tys, I love you so much,” you sobbed, tightening your grip around his smaller body as you enjoyed the moment. “I will always love you, no matter what. Okay, Tys?”

The toddler nodded your way, his eyes soft as he let his face hide in the crook of your neck. Auston joined the two of you, kissing the top of your heads before swaying all of your bodies from side to side.

“We’ll be alright,” he whispered in your ear. “We’ll be alright,”

-----

You hadn’t expected to ever find yourself in court for something as serious as child custody, ever. You were nervous, to say the least. You, Auston, and Tyson were in the hands of one of the best lawyers specialized in child custody; you had been reassured you’d win the case at least twenty times already, but it didn’t help to calm your nerves.

In the short time that had divided your first real encounter with Jessica and the day of the sentence, you had truly started appreciating every single moment you had with Tyson. God only knew what was going to happen in that room.

Auston held your hand during the entire sentence, squeezing your palm every time he’d feel you getting nervous. As the matters were discussed via your respective lawyers, you let your eyes peek in Jessica’s direction.

She was dressed in black, her usual signatures - the bright red lipstick painting her lips, and her neck tattoo - shining under the lights of the room. ‘How could such a beautiful person live without kindness, or love, for her own son?’ You asked yourself. ‘How could she heartlessly leave Tyson and Auston alone, and come back years later to try and snatch him away from the loving hands of his father?’

You spaced out, blocking the sound of people talking, focusing on the ground. In your head, you replayed every single moment you had been able to spend with Tyson, the little boy that had stolen your heart.

You focused on every important moment: the time in the hospital, the lazy Sundays spent with your boys and Felix on the couch, the gala where Tyson first called you ‘mommy’, his first practice.

‘We do not remember days, we remember moments’, was what Cesare Pavese had once said, and finding Tyson and Auston finally made you really understand what he meant, with that quote.

“The sole custody of Tyson James Matthews will be given to the father, Auston Taylour Matthews,” the judge, a middle-aged woman, spoke. “Have a good day,”

It felt as if your heart started beating again, when she spoke those words. Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you looked at Auston, who was equally as happy as you were.

Even if not appropriate, he pulled you in a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the two of you created another moment together. Ema, who had been sitting behind you all that time, joined the two of you with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“We did it, baby,” Auston whispered, sniffling slightly as he wiped a fresh set of tears from your cheeks. “We finally did it,”

You spent the afternoon trying to explain the situation to Tyson as best as you could, his curious questions bringing you even more happiness. As much as you wanted to spend the entire night with your boys, Auston was determined to bring you out to dinner.

The entire deal about Tyson’s custody had made both of you extremely busy, you barely even were able to see each other. Mrs. Blake had been more than happy to keep Tyson for the night, and maybe you really needed to spend a night with your lover.

“You look beautiful,” Auston said from behind you, nervously fidgeting as he looked at you putting on your favorite set of earrings.

“And you look nervous,” you giggled, turning around to press a kiss to his lips. “Do I still make you nervous, Matthews?”

“How could you not?” He smirked sweetly down at you, kissing you another time before grabbing your clutch for you. “Let’s go, baby. This is our night,”

You laughed, spinning in his arms before slipping in a pair of heels, ready to leave your condo and get to the restaurant. The look of shock you had given Auston the moment he parked in front of the CN Tower was enough to make him laugh as he helped you out of the car like the gentleman he was.

He spoiled you with a wonderful dinner, talking about everything in front of a glass of wine and the beautiful view of Toronto. Your dessert was brought to you after a while: two nice bowls of ice cream, just what you always used to order when you were kids.

“You know, I was thinking about it,” Auston mumbled, clearing his throat as he pushed the spoon with the last few remnants of ice cream into his mouth. “And we’ve been together for almost a year,”

“Damn, you’re right,” you chuckled in amazement. Time had gone past so quickly you had barely even noticed it.

“This has been the best year of my life,” he admitted, pressing a quick kiss to the back of your hand, his palm sweaty. “And I wish the next ones could be as perfect as this one year we spent together,”

You smiled at him, biting on your lip as the butterflies in your stomach kept dancing to the music that was his love.

“I know it’s probably too soon, but I just can’t help myself, Y/N,”

A hand cupped your mouth as you finally realized what he actually had meant, and when he let himself sink on one knee, opening a velvet box with the most beautiful ring you had ever seen inside, tears started to spill from your eyes.

“We’ve been through hell and back to be where we are now, and you’ve loved me unconditionally no matter what I did or what I said. You’re the only one I want, you’re the only one I need. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

It was a no-brainer. You didn’t even have to think about your answer, it was clear.

“Yes!”

Taglist: @thirstyybitch @bellaguarneri @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @trashforbarzal @roopehinttz @callllumhood @sunsetholland

#auston matthews #auston matthews x reader #nhl #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs #hockey imagine #auston matthews imagine #for you i'd become hercules

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tonesplash · 4 years

Text

In The Drawer (18+)

Could I request something? If you want to write my request, that is! I would love some more Jacob content because smeyer did him so dirty. My request: Jacob reacting to his shy lady love telling him that she wants him to restrain her during sex, with her being kind of embarrassed about it. Aaa, if this makes you uncomfy or you don’t want to write it, pls yeet this ask into the sun. I love you either way!

pairing: Jacob Black x Reader

warnings: swearing, and mild smut

(a/n): have fun yall

You'd met while out on a summer La Push trip with some of your school friends, Jacob spotting you from a few hundred yards down the beach and managing to score your phone number between your nervous rants and stutters.

Somehow, that first approach, with you sweaty from the sun and fully exposed in your swimsuit, seemed way less daunting than now. Even now, fully aware of the whole werewolf situation and his endless devotion and unwavering compulsion to do anything you needed him to, didn't make asking this any easier.

He absolutely knows something is up; you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your cheek while you fail to avoid it subtly, your entire face glowing since the thought first entered your mind the night before when he'd briefly held both of your wrists in one beefy hand in between fits of passion.

Lucky for you, today was a busy one on the res'. There was some big powwow coming up, so all hands were on deck, filling every room of Emily's house and spilling out into the front yard.

Jacob still manages to catch your eye in the hustle and bustle for a brief moment with a clear unspoken promise that whatever was on your mind was going to be out in the open by the end of the night.

You stay after to help clean up for as long as possible before even Emily nearly chases you out the door for some alone time with Sam. You guess you can't blame her.

When you get in the house, Jacob is waiting for you in the living room, having almost paced the rug to threads. You trade a bit of your trepidation for remorse. You hadn't meant to make him anxious too.

"Hey, Jake." You awkwardly try to break the tension as you leave your shoes by the door.

"(Y/n) where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I was, especially with how squirrely you've been all day?" Jacob's temper strains his voice a bit, but you can see the concern smoldering in his dark eyes. He steps closer to bring you in for a hug, and you move to reciprocate, but he only holds you for a moment before pulling back, his hands coming up to cradle your arms.

"I didn't... hurt you or anything, did I?" His eyes soften as he holds you steadily. You are quick to shake your head to quell his worries.

"No, no, of course not."

"Well then, what is it?" Jacob draws his hands to cup your cheeks and forces you to look at him. "You haven't acted this weird since the time Seth caught us-"

"I know what Seth caught us doing! Don't remind me!" Your hands come up to frame his, and you close your eyes as if bracing for impact.

"Can we just... talk about this in the bedroom?" You open your eyes to test his reaction, only to find him grinning down at you.

"Oooh, okay, so you wanna get saucy? You could've just said so hon-" You clap one of your hands over his mouth before he can mortify you any more.

"Please start walking before I have to kill you."

You follow Jacob into your shared bedroom. He plops his full weight on the edge of the bed while you remain standing, shifting your weight anxiously.

"What could you possibly be thinking about that's got you this riled up?"

"Just... before I say anything. You have to promise me you won't laugh."

"This has got to be good." Jacob leans back on his palms and observes you.

"I'm serious, Jake!" You pout for a moment before steeling yourself and crossing your arms. "Werewolf swear me."

This time he can't hold in his laugh. "You can't say werewolf swear and expect me not to at least chuckle."

"Did Paul lie to me again?" This night could not be any more embarrassing for you.

"Yup. That's not even a real thing. And if it were, which it isn't, it wouldn't even apply to you."

"Please, Jakey." Saying it out loud physically hurts, but the nickname immediately schools his face, and he sits up to take this seriously.

"What's going on with you? You know you can tell me." He gently takes your hands and brings them close to his chest, and the warmth of him grounds you enough to get the words out. You fiddle with this collar for a second while you carefully consider what you're going to say.

"I want you to....tiemeup." You rush the last part out, hoping that he'll catch your drift.

"What? I didn't catch that like, at all."

"I want you, to...y'know." You make vaguely suggestive gestures with your hands.

"I already do that. Like, a lot." He's still not getting it. And he isn't going to unless you nut up and say it out loud. You cover your face for a moment before he pulls them away, and you can't tell if he's messing with you again.

"I WANT YOU TO TIE ME UP AND FUCK ME! GOD!"

The immediate silence is somehow deafening. He releases your wrists, and you may live with your hands seared to your face forever with how hot your face is right now, you just know it. Your palms and your cheeks have become one, and your face will never see the sun again.

"Y/n."

Archaeologists may finally get a glimpse of who you once were years and years from now, when your flesh rots into nothing and the delicate bones of your phalanges blow off in the wind. But until then, your mortification will remain.

"Y/n, babe, it's okay." You turn your back to face him as if that will make him forget what you just said.

"No, it's not. I want to crawl into a hole and die."

"Hey, hey, hey! We don't want any of that." Jacob makes you face him and pries your hands away from your face with a ridiculous ease.

"There's my girl." He releases of your arms to pull you in by your waist, and he's smiling at you. Why is he smiling at you like you hung the stars when you just confessed to being a sex fiend.

"I thought you were gonna say something actually crazy, like that you were gonna stab me but like, sensually."

Your giggle is muffled into his shoulder.

"Not that I'd be totally opposed to it but, it's still a pretty big jump-"

You're full-on cackling now, and he laughs with you, pulling you to his chest and rolling back onto the bed until you're breathless and beneath him.

"Would you really let me do that?" Jacob isn't looking directly at you, but the stretch of your jaw as he caresses it. "Tie you up and have my way with you?" he chuckles a bit as he says it, but you can tell by the hardness pressing into your front that he isn't joking.

...

You couldn't say how or when you found yourself like this, wrists tied and held together behind you while your werewolf boyfriend railed you from behind.

You can do nothing but moan brokenly into the drool-soaked pillow below you, and Jacob isn't faring much better. You can hear his shaky pants and grunts with the effort and dizzying pleasure of your tight cunt.

His skin is dripping with exertion, making him almost glow in the low light of your bedside lamp, and you can't seem to look away. He's breathtaking in every way.

When he catches your dreamy one-eyed stare, he bows further over your back, still thrusting, still holding your bound wrists steady, his voice is a honeyed growl as he continues poinding into you, "This what you wanted, huh?"

It feels like you're being split apart; like with him inside like this, there is no room for your lungs to expand and words to come out. You must have let out some pathetic noise because he barks a short laugh against your temple before kissing it and burying his face in your hair.

Maybe the afterglow would be a better time to bring up the cuffs in the drawer.

#twilight imagine #jacob black x reader #requests open #smut #oneshot

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

Text

Gimme Love

masterlist | requests

spencer reid x reader

word count: 1.2k | warnings: none, all fluff!!

song inspo: gimme love by joji

an: this is short and dumb and made me cry ok fuck i love spencer fucking reid anon this was based off your request i hope u like it

Spencer regularly had cases that made him more nauseous than others- and this was one of them. The deaths weren’t exceptionally bad, no worse than the stuff he usually sees. The fact was, this case was bothering him so bad because the victims looked like her. They had her shape, her hair color, ethnicity, even down to the eye color. Every new body they found made him sick to his stomach, worried one of them was going to be her.

He dreaded hearing the words “They found another body.” He would immediately call her, crossing his fingers that she’d pick up. There were times when she didn’t, when she was working, or taking a shower, cooking dinner. The funniest thing was, Spencer was six hundred miles away from DC, where his roommate was living happily and unbothered by the unsub here.

Even the team could tell he was off, his inability to focus at the crime scene, the frequent bathroom breaks, constant phone calls. Emily was the first to say something, quietly asking if everything was alright as Spencer poured himself another cup of coffee in the back of the police station.

“Yeah… this case is just really bothering me, for some reason. I’m sorry, I’ll pull it together,” he responded, his eyes staring blankly at the floor, another sign that he was in another universe.

s“These girls… they look a lot like (Y/N), don’t you think?” Emily watched the way his face changed as she brought up his roommate, someone that he vehemently denied he had any feelings for, although Emily knew that was bullshit. She first knew something was up with him when he brought (Y/N) along to the Christmas party. Spencer would not leave her side, barking at any guy who tried to get near her. Emily and Penelope were laughing about it all night, even turning it into a drinking game between the two of them. So Emily completely understood why Spencer was having such a hard time with this case. They all looked like her- the girl he was massively and secretly in love with.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Em,” he replied, laughing slightly as if her comment was so ridiculous and comical. Emily just rolled her eyes and moved on, realizing that it is never worth arguing with Spencer Reid.

When they finally caught the guy, Spencer should have felt better. It should have made him sleep a little easier knowing there was no way this man could find (Y/N) and hurt her. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw the unsub hurting you over and over. The worst part was, Spencer would try everything in his power to help you, to save you from this man, but he couldn’t. He’d eventually wake up gasping, covered in sweat, his mouth dry and his stomach queasy.

“You alright, man?” Derek asked, sitting down next to him on the jet. All Spencer could manage was a silent nod, his mouth unable to produce any words.

The drive home was quiet, his head pounding too loudly for any music. He was desperately craving a cigarette, something he promised (Y/N) he’d quit. Everytime he lit one, she’d float towards him, her beautiful radiance filling him with warmth.

“You’re killing yourself, you know?” She’d say, her soft voice flowing through his ears like a siren, luring him to her, to his inevitable death.

“I’m gonna die anyways, might as well be happy while I’m alive,” he’d say, taking another drag and allowing the nicotine to calm his nerves.

(Y/N) would just roll her eyes and walk away, disappointed in him. That was what hurt the most, in Spencer’s eyes. She was never angry at him, just disappointed. She was one of the few people that actually believed Spencer could be human, could live outside his job. He hated the look on her face when he continued to smoke, drink endless coffee, not eat breakfast…

Spencer pulled into the driveway of their townhome, a calming presence floating down on him. He could feel (Y/N)’s light from all the way out here, her aura drawing him in. Being around her intoxicated him, and he stumbled out of his car and up to the front door, clumsily unlocking it and walking inside.

He heard the mumbling of the TV, not able to make out what she was watching. He walked down the hall and into the living room, noticing her immediately. She was cuddled into the couch, a blanket wrapped around her legs and glass of wine in her hands. She was wearing one of her old college shirts, covered in paint stains and a few rips from years of use. He smiled when he saw her, a sigh of relief as his own two eyes confirmed her safety. He was home now, and he could protect her. As long as he was with her, she would be safe.

“Hey you!” She exclaimed, throwing her blanket off and standing up. “I didn’t know you were coming home!”

“Sorry, I must’ve forgotten to text you. I’m exhausted.”

She frowned at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his face. She always lectured him about his sleeping habits, and how important it was to get at least six hours a night. ‘I know saying eight is asking for too much, but can we at least agree on six,’ he heard her saying, making him grin slightly.

“I was about to watch a movie, wanna join?”

“For sure. Let me get changed.”

“You want a glass of wine?” She asked, walking towards the kitchen and wiggling her glass in the air, that was now near empty itself.

“I’d love one, thank you.” Spencer smiled at her, his heart seemingly growing in his chest as he watched her focus on pouring his wine. He ran to his room to change quickly, not wanting to miss a second of time with her. He never knew when he’d get called away again.

When he got back to the living room, (Y/N) was back on the couch and under the blanket. Spencer walked to the couch, grabbing his glass of wine and taking a sip. He sat on the other side of the couch, quite far from her, nervous to get too close. He wanted to hear her song, but if he got any closer, there might be no going back. Falling for her… it was a guaranteed death. She was his best friend, and love only ended in heartbreak. He couldn’t lose her. As amazing as it would be to love her, he couldn’t take the risk.

“Come snuggle with me, I’m cold!” She whined, throwing back the blanket and inviting him in. He couldn’t say no to her, no matter how hard his mind tried to hold him back. He crawled up next to her, putting his arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“I missed you,” she whispered, hugging him tighter.

“I missed you, too.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Pretty Boy

Pairing: Sam Winchester (SPN) x Spencer Reid (CM)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: implied one night stand, college bar, questionable decision making, flashbacks, Stanford!Sam, virgin!Spencer, making out, grinding, back alley blow jobs

Created for: @spnkinkbingo - TedTalk!Sam | @there-must-be-a-lock 3,500 followers / 30th birthday celebration - Sam x Spencer

Summary: When Spencer comes across a viral TedTalk, he's stunned to see he recognises the speaker.

When he gets into the bullpen that morning Spencer goes through his usual routine. His messenger bag and scarf are dropped onto the desk, jacket slung over the back of his chair, and mug filled with coffee that – thankfully – smells fresh. He holds the warm ceramic tight between his hands, letting his fingers re-acclimate themselves to blood circulation after his walk in from the bus station, while his computer flickers to life and his inbox loads.

After years of resisting the advent of modern technology, Garcia had gotten fed up with him and set up his work email address with a few things to tempt him into reading his emails. Every day he comes in to cute pictures of baby animals - courtesy of the chain between Garcia, JJ and Emily - as well as newsletters from medical journals, physics journals, and psychological studies. Spencer opens today’s email from the TED conference series and sips his coffee while he waits for the embedded videos to load. Last week there had been a really interesting keynote on educational psychology, and he hopes there is something equally as stimulating today.

The headline under the video isn’t particularly enthralling, Top Federal Lawyer Shares How To Win - In the courtroom and in life, but Spencer nearly spits out his coffee when the video thumbnail loads and he recognises the speaker.

Sam Winchester. So he’d gotten into law school then. More than that, he was now one of the top Federal Attorneys in the country, according to the bio in the email. God, he’s young to have that job, he’s only two years younger than Spencer. Even Hotch hadn’t made it that far up the legal ladder by 35. He remembers Sam as intelligent, charismatic, intuitive – all skills that would have gotten him far if he shook the right hands along the way, but still – Spencer is quietly impressed.

“Hey, Pretty Boy!” Spencer hears Morgan’s voice distantly but he’s caught up in memories now.

“Pretty Boy!”

Spencer looks up from his drink and turns towards the sound of his nickname, about to tell Morgan to stop calling him that for the millionth time when he hears another voice shout back.

“Dude, can you just stop? I told you not to call me that!”

Spencer and Morgan both look puzzedly at the stranger who’d just told Morgan off. He has bright hazel eyes, and soft looking, light brown hair and – yeah, Spencer can see why someone might call this guy ‘Pretty Boy’.

“Oh, sorry,” Pretty Boy blushes and shakes his fringe in front of his eyes. “I thought you were Brady. I keep telling the idiot to stop calling me that.”

“I keep telling this one the same thing,” Spencer jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Morgan, shocked for a moment that he’d actually spoken. He wasn’t very good at speaking with strangers in bars.

Morgan claps his hand over his chest in mock hurt, expression teasing. “C’mon man, you know I’m only messin’ with you,” Morgan laughs and ruffles Spencer’s hair. “He is pretty though, in’t he?” he whispers conspiratorially at the other Pretty Boy and Spencer shoves Morgan off him.

“You’re lucky I don’t have my gun on me,” he threatens and Morgan holds up his hands in surrender.

“What like you could hit me?” And before Spencer has the chance to retort, Morgan’s dashed off, back to the table where Gideon is sipping a beer and reading through an open case file.

“So, you usually bring a gun on nights out?” Spencer takes a moment to realise the stranger is talking to him again.

“Oh I, uh,” Spencer stutters under the his open, curious gaze. “It’s not, um, I’m an FBI agent,” his voice shoots up at the end making it sound more like a question than a statement. “So it’s not, you know, illegal for me to–”

“Hey, it’s fine,” the stranger laughs and scootches one bar stool closer to Spencer. “I know who you are, actually,” he admits, ducking behind his hair again. “I was in the careers talk earlier.”

“Oh,” Spencer relaxes a little now he doesn’t have to explain himself but then tenses up again remembering how awkward he’d been during the presentation, and not really wanting to relive that experience if this guy was about to make fun of him for it.

“I uh, I’m Sam,” Pretty Boy – Sam – sticks his hand out, and Spencer shakes it, a little perplexed as to why this guy is still talking to him. “I’m uh, guessing I should call you Dr. Reid rather than Pretty Boy, huh?” Sam tries to break the tension with a joke and Spencer realises he’s still holding Sam’s hand, the skin soft and warm under his, and he’s staring pretty intensely at the guy.

“Um, Spencer,” he manages to choke out as he snatches back his hand and tucks his hair behind his ear.

“It’s nice to meet you Spencer,” Sam smiles, genuinely, but with some kind of intensity behind it that Spencer can’t place.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Sam,” Spencer tries the name out on his tongue and decides he likes it.

“I really liked the presentation earlier,” Sam says, taking a sip from the beer bottle he has in front of him.

“Are you thinking about joining the FBI?” Spencer asks, circling his fingers around his own glass to give them something to do, to keep them from creeping back along the bar towards where Sam’s are now resting.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, turning on his stool to face Spencer a little more head on, and giving him a small smile. “I’m pre-law right now, but I thought it would be cool to hear about, I guess.”

“Law is nice,” Spencer nods. “We get a lot of people transferring in from law backgrounds.”

“Did you like the Academy?” Spencer grimaces at Sam’s question before he can help himself. “Oh, maybe not then,” Sam laughs.

“No,” Spencer rushes to explain himself. “I just, when I was there I was still really young, and y’know, people pushed me around a little. I mean, look at me,” Spencer gestures up and down his scrawny body.

“I am looking,” Sam breathes, eyes following Spencer’s hand and dragging across his form. Spencer freezes. Did Sam just… flirt with him? He has no idea what to do with that. He decides to carry on with his previous train of thought instead.

“With a guy like you... you wouldn’t have that problem,” Spencer finishes, feeling himself blush a bit in embarrassment at the lame conclusion. He was not doing a great job at selling the Academy.

“Whaddya mean? A guy like me?” Sam pushes with a knowing grin, that same intensity in his gaze, eyes still roaming over Spencer.

“Well, you, y’know,” Spencer waves his hand in Sam’s direction, hoping that will get his point across, but Sam just sits there smirking at him, waiting. “You’re all tall and, a-and,” his eyes catch on Sam’s shoulders, which are broad, and nicely displayed beneath a t-shirt that’s stretched just a little over the muscles there, “s-strong looking, I guess?” Spencer cringes. God he sounds like an idiot. “I bet you could throw around someone like me, easy,” he shrugs. Sam is still smirking at him, and Spencer takes another drink, trying to cool down the burning in his cheeks.

“You wanna find out?” Sam takes a casual sip of his beer, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Find out what?” Spencer’s brows draw together, not following. Sam grins and hops off his barstool, closing in on Spencer’s personal space. Most people might look threatening, doing something like that, but Sam just looks… happy. Carefree, almost – and excited.

“Just how easily I could throw you around,” Sam is still speaking pretty loudly to be heard above the noise of the bar, but he’s pressed himself close up against Spencer’s side and leaned in like he’s whispering in his ear. The feeling of Sam’s breath on his neck is enough to make Spencer shiver, and coupled with the words themselves, Spencer thinks he might just fall off his chair.

Sam pulls back to look Spencer in the eye, and Spencer finally understands what that darkness behind Sam’s irises is – desire, attraction, hunger. Sam’s eyes flick down to where Spencer is licking his lips, a bad nervous habit of his. That desire clouds Sam’s expression even more and he starts to lean down, eyes still fixed on Spencer’s mouth, and a split second before it’s too late, Spencer reaches out and places his hands on Sam’s chest, stopping him short.

“Sorry, I just...” Spencer glances nervously back at Gideon and Morgan who are, thankfully, engrossed in conversation and not paying him any attention. He looks back at Sam and sees the understanding flit across his face.

“Follow me,” Sam checks around them and then reaches up and grabs Spencer’s hand. Spencer makes a small noise of shocked protest but Sam ignores it, leading them around the bar and out a door in the far corner.

They emerge into an ally, dark and shaded from the street lights, and Sam immediately pushes Spencer’s back against the door they just came out of. Spencer stares at him nervously, but doesn’t pull away. This is nothing he’s ever done before. This is what Morgan does, picking people up in bars and slinking off somewhere private to do god knows what. This isn’t Spencer. But Sam’s still looking at him with those bright, beautiful, hungry eyes and Spencer feels something stir in the pit of his stomach that he hasn’t felt for a long time. And as nervous as it makes him, he lets himself admit that he wants this too.

Sam moves closer in, pressing his front against Spencer’s, and he feels solid. Yeah, this guy might be pretty but he could absolutely throw Spencer around if he wanted to. He feels himself shudder against Sam and the fronts of their hips skate against each other, sending a jolt of want to the pit of Spencer’s stomach.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice is low and soft, and it brings Spencer’s attention back to Sam’s face, which is only inches away now. “Is this okay?” Spencer nods, pleadingly, and Sam smiles. Sam’s hand comes up to his face and Spencer leans into it. His eyes slip closed as he relishes the warmth, this is more human contact than he’s had in months. And he doesn’t see it coming because his eyes are shut but then Sam’s lips are on his and wow – they feel amazing.

Spencer’s kissed people before but he’s never been kissed like this. Like he’s being devoured. Like he’s everything Sam could possibly want. And Sam is certainly everything Spencer could want. He pushes his hands up into Sam’s hair and pulls him in tighter. Sam moans against him and wedges their thighs together and Spencer swears that when he tugs on Sam’s hair again he can actually feel the twitch in Sam’s pants in response.

Sam is getting harder by the second and Spencer can feel Sam coaxing the same reaction out of his body. He juts his hips forward experimentally and the answering groan from Sam matches his own. Fuck, that feels good. And Sam feels big. Jesus Christ, Spencer doesn’t know how it’s possible for a guy to feel that big through that many layers of clothing and he can’t stop himself imagining how big he would be if he wasn’t trapped behind those jeans.

Sam grinds their hips together again and ducks his head to nip at Spencer’s neck, sucking a spot into the skin that’s visible above his collar.

“Oh my god,” Spencer whines, and he feels Sam grin against his throat, lips twitching in a smile.

“That feel good?” Sam murmurs against his skin, and when he ruts their cocks against each other again Spencer thinks he might die.

“God, yes,” Spencer pulls Sam’s lips back to his and kisses him hard and messy. Sam’s hands drag down Spencer’s chest and rub over his cock and Spencer’s breath actually chokes off in his throat.

“How far do you want this to go?” Sam asks against his lips, not wanting to break the kiss.

“I– I want…” Spencer knows what he wants but he’s scared to ask for it. He’s never done this before. The making out with a stranger in a dark ally part, or the more than ‘kissing and accidentally coming in your pants’ part. He doesn’t want to do that. What he wants is to drop to his knees and get Sam’s cock in his mouth. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to say it, so he goes for the next best thing.

Spencer drops to his knees with a thud, and looks up at Sam – panting, waiting.

“Fuck yes,” Sam moans and tears into his jeans, fists his cock out of his boxers and – yeah, he’s big. Shit, Spencer gulps, genuinely salivating at the thought of getting that between his lips. “This what you want?” Sam strokes himself in front of Spencer’s face and he can only nod, fascinated, not taking his eyes off the shiny red tip that is just begging to be sucked. “Alright Pretty Boy, let’s see what you got.”

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