#hey!@!!!!! i worked on this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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hey neil idk if you’re the best person to ask but i would like to think you have some sadge advice or something. as an introvert how do you deal with going to funerals and that whole interaction with people trying to support people and people trying to support you? It’s all strange and weird to me. thanks.
You remind yourself that this is not a usual thing for anyone, and that everyone is dealing with their own personal reactions to what's happened, with grief or loss or just the weirdness of it all. And you look after yourself.
And take refuge in things that people say. "I'm sorry for your loss", or "May their memory be a blessing" or "Thank you so much" when people offer their own condolences. It's formulaic but it works.
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Stress Relief
You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer
Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘
A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.
You could tell something was off.
A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air.
"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"
Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.
"Babe?"
His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"
When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.
Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.
"Bad day at work?"
He slowly nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want a hug?"
He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.
"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"
You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.
Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.
"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"
His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."
You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"
Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control?
He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.
But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now.
So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."
He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."
"What makes you think I need help?"
"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."
Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"
"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."
"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.
"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."
His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze.
"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."
“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."
"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused."
You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.
"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."
His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."
The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.
"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."
You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"
There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.
“I… I don't understand."
"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."
"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.
You swallowed hard.
"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."
He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.
"And what if I do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I know what I want."
He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"
You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."
His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."
You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."
He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.
"I want to see how far you'll go for me."
Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"
A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."
"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."
His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.
A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.
"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"
You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.
With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.
“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.
“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."
Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.
You wanted him to use your body.
“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”
His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.
His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath.
He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."
You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.
"Do I make myself clear?"
You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."
His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.
With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.
You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt.
Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.
He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.
Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."
Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.
The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.
His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.
The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.
You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.
Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.
"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”
You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.
"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."
Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh.
You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.
For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.
"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.
He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?"
"Pl-Please touch me."
He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"
You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."
His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"
"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit.
"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.
His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.
Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you.
Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.
He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.
You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head. But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.
"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"
He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one."
How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.
Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.
His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.
Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.
It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.
He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds.
You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.
"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."
Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.
"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"
You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"
Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you.
And you liked it.
"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."
He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.
You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.
He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.
Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.
"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."
You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.
Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.
He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.
Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.
His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.
You were instantly gone.
A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his.
“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.
He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.
Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.
You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor.
After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.
“Are you okay?"
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""
"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."
"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.
"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."
Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.
Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."
His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."
A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"
You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."
You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin.
"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."
You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."
He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"
"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”
"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"
His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?"
You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."
His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."
You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"
"I think we both need that nice warm bath."
You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"
He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you?
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#gifwriting#spencer reid x reader smut#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n
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I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.
His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.
Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.
When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.
One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.
In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.
He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.
That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.
Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.
Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.
I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.
I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.
I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.
However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.
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I Love You, It's Ruining My Life
Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing
Work Count: 5.2k
You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”
Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”
“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”
“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.
You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”
He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.
“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier.
“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”
Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning.
Azriel arched a brow in question.
“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”
Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”
He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”
You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.
“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.”
Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you.
“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly.
He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.”
You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.
---
A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.
Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”
“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”
The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”
Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”
That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”
You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”
He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.
“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked.
It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you.
He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop.
Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.
Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.
---
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House.
It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company.
“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.
“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him.
His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.
Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains.
Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.
Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment.
Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”
Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.
“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”
“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”
Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”
Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”
“Maybe you should.”
Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely.
---
It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.
Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet…
It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.
You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him.
Cauldron, you were doomed.
“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Nowhere,” you lied.
She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap.
“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement.
“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”
Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”
You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”
“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.
You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”
Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”
“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”
Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”
You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”
“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”
Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”
---
Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.
“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.
“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”
He smiled. “I love you, too.”
He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank.
It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him.
You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend.
---
“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.
He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”
You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”
Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”
He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”
You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.
Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.
“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”
“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.
What the hell.
Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?
He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?
It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off.
And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?
His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?
It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way.
Did he feel the same way?
He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much.
Maybe he should be with you.
He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.
Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.
You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.
“Az?” You asked.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.
Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.
The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends.
You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.
He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.
You had a long night ahead of you.
---
It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.
It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.
He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.
“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.
“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.
Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.
“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.
“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.
“Settled?” Rhys offered.
Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”
“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.
“I do. Of course I love her.”
“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”
“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”
“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.
He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.
---
Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier.
Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.
You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin.
“You do not,” you smiled.
“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively.
You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.”
He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased.
Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.
Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.
You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning.
Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.
“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.
“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”
“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”
Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.
“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”
“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased.
“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter.
You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt.
Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand.
Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him.
All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.
You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you.
Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.
---
Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries.
Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone?
He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him.
He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.
“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.
You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly.
He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking.
Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”
“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom.
You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”
“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”
You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”
“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it.
A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.
Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”
“Looks like I have,” you whispered.
“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”
“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.
Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”
He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”
You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.
Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together.
One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.
“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.
Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.
He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”
“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling.
“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.
“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.
His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking.
After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”
Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”
“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said.
“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.”
His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them.
He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.
Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand.
---
You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty.
You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him?
How could you ever be sure?
After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty.
Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…
You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again.
What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.
Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this.
Whatever this ended up being.
Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door.
“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.
Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” you replied timidly.
His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him.
He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table.
You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”
His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him.
It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were.
On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”
Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him.
You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long.
Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read:
You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.
I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you.
Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you.
---
Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink.
He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything…
He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him.
He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into.
You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him.
“Hi,” you said, quietly.
“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy.
You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.
“I read it,” you whispered.
He could only nod, his heart in his throat.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.
He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force.
“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”
Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”
“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.
You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”
Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did.
You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you.
“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”
“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground.
“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.
Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers.
---
After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly.
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”
Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”
You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.
“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him.
After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”
You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”
Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#acotar x reader#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel one shot#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel angst#acotar angst#acotar fluff#acotar imagine#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#request
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HOW TO READ BINARY MESSAGES
Hey there all you gamers out there! Have you ever seen a bunch of ones and zeroes in a television show and wondered "Huh. I wonder if this binary here is some sort of Secret Code?" and instead of googling it, you wanted to try to figure it out yourself? Well I know how to do that, and people always go "WHOA" when I tell them that, and I figured I would teach you all as well!
Now just a warning ahead of time, translating binary yourself will take some time and require a little bit of math, so don't say I didn't warn you.
So let's take a binary string like this frame from the Gravity Falls episode "Soos and The Real Girl" (which, spoilers, IS a secret message)
So the first thing you're gonna want to do is divide the binary into groups of 8. If it is a secret message, then each group of 8 bits will represent as ASCII value (or, for the sake of this explanation, letters). So let's divide them up.
That gives us: 01010011, 01010000, 01000001, 01000011, 01000101, 01001010, 01000001, 01001101, 01010100, 01010111, and 01001111. Now, you might have noticed that all of these binary strings have something in common. They all start with "010"! That's gonna be your first tell that you've got a secret message on your hands. Every letter in ASCII starts with either 010 or 011 for lowercase letters. So if you see the groups don't start with either of those, then it's just random gibberish binary that someone just keysmashed 1 and 0 for. So now we know we have a message, so we can begin translating. And to show off how that works, we're going to translate the first set together!
The way binary works is that each digit from the right to the left represents a power of 2. The farthest right digit represents 1. The second to last digit represents 2. The third to last digit is 4. Then 8. Then 16. When reading more complex binary stuff, you go further than that, but for reading ASCII letters, we only use 5 digits. For each of those digits, if the digit is 1, then you add the value that the digit represents. If it's 0, then you don't. From there, you add up the numbers you've got, and then run the sum through the handy dandy a1z26 cipher (A = 1, B = 2, C = 3, and so on)
So again, let's have a look at that first string: 01010011
And there you go! Now you just need to repeat this for every letter! It sounds harrowing at first, but over time you get the hang of it to the point where you can do it in your head. Feel free to give is a shot yourself and decode the rest of the message from the Gravity Falls episode
Now obviously there are a few exceptions. For example if you have a number or punctuation it will start with "001", and from there translating a number from 0 to 9 is easy since it's the same thing but without the A1Z26 cipher, but with punctuation you have to remember specific values, which is a pain in the ass, but if you're translating a decoded message, you don't really need to know the punctuation.
And that should do it! Hope you enjoyed this little explanation.
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the only downside of my personal art and self portraits being semi well received (thank u by the way) is that on occasion some wah wah transphobe blog will get ahold of it and sing my praises of Wombmanhood and Femininity. which is so fucking funny, because terfs harassed me relentlessly about the fact that I pursued a breast reduction (butchering my body, reducing my femininity, being brainwashed, and so on) only to sing praises to my current body as The Natural Female Form. very, very funny.
I normally do portraits of my body, for the extremely, *extremely* obvious reasons, which include but are not limited to: I have infinite reference images of my own body. but I think I would like to expand, in the future
#the thing is that for this art style I really do need to work from life.#I think some life drawing would be good for me (IN GENERAL) but sometimes people ask me about commissioning a floral portrait#of themselves in the same style that I draw my own body. and I think I want to make some openings for a few of those when I have time#(I don't. kms)#but I've looked around and 67% of my returning audience is trans. (hey what's up.) and I think for people who sign off on me posting#their commissioned pieces it would be good to change up the kind of art I post#once in awhile. like people are surprisingly down to offer reference images of their literal body#which I'm always surprised by and sometimes has their watermark on it from their Business (you are stronger than I)#sergle.txt
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a privilege I deprive myself of
Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.
or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Talks of body image.
Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!
This isn’t ideal.
Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.
You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.
Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.
This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.
“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”
“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.
“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”
“I don’t.”
“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”
Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.
So this really isn’t ideal.
“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.
Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.
The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.
Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.
“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.
For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else.
In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.
“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…
“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”
“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.
“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.
Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.
“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.
“Well, fuck you very much.”
She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.
Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.
You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.
He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.
She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.
The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.
“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.
To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.
The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.
“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”
“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”
She nodded.
“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”
You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”
She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.
“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”
Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.
There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.
“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”
So, hm, this isn’t ideal.
You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.
Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.
So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.
As a friend, of course. Truly.
The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.
After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.
On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.
You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.
“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.
“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.
And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.
All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.
“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.
So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.
“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.
Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.
******
You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.
“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”
“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.
“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.
“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”
It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”
Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.
“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”
“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”
What?
“What?”
“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”
“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”
Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.
“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”
“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”
“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”
The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.
Again, not Postmates.
“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.
“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”
“Uh… No. Why…”
“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”
She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.
Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.
Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.
It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.
Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.
“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.
“Listen, I know how it looked-“
“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”
Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years.
“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.
“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”
“Melissa, the flowers…”
“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”
“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.
“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”
She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?
She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.
“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”
In love you with you. In love you with you.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.
The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.
You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.
“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”
You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.
She flinches, but allows it.
“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”
“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”
She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.
“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.
“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.
She raises a brow.
“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”
“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course.” You say without a thought.
“As a friend?” She challenges.
No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?
You let your hands travel down slightly.
“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”
She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.
“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”
Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.
Forse sarebbe più facile.
“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
“I know.” You say.
You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.
She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.
Now, the something more is clearer.
“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”
“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.
“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.
If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.
“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”
“Poor Gary,” you whisper.
“Yeah… Poor Gary.”
So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.
“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”
For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.
Heaven.
Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.
#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti x reader#abbott elementary fic#angst with a dab of humor (if you squint)#can anyone tell I am really into sarcasm as a form of comedy? ANYWAYS#themillsdaughter writes#‘hey shouldn’t you be trying to finish that wyp you started 3 years ago?’#yes yes i should but that’s not how the muse works apparently
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Quiara Hair
Hey there lovelies! Here's the new hairstyle I've been working on FOR AGES. I ran into a lot of issues with the hair in-game but got the help I needed which I'm so thankful for! It's a Goddess bob braids hairstyle, hopefully you guys like it! 🤍
Base Game Compatible
24 EA Swatches
All LOD’s
All Maps
Not Hat Compatible
Two Versions
High poly
PREVIEW
Quiara Hair V1 (left) and Quiara Hair V2 (right)
DOWNLOAD HERE - Early Access (Buds Tier)
Seeds Tier Release - 08/05/24 🤍
Public Release - 22/05/24 🤍
Thank you to everyone who likes and reblogs my content 🤍
Any support is honestly appreciated!🤍
#mycc#ccfinds#ts4cc#ts4#maxis match#ts4mm#sims 4#ts4mm hair#s4mm#ts4 maxis match#the sims 4 cc#sims 4 cc#the sims cc#ts4 cc#custom content#cas#s4cc hair#s4ccfinds#s4cc#maxismatch#sims 4 maxis match#maxis match cc#the sims 4#ts4 female hair#ts4 female cc#gegesims#gegesimmer
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Out of Position
Hi. So, I'm not really sure I like this but hey-ho. I'm trying to write my masters dissertation so fics may be few and far between loll but I wanted to write something. Anyway, hope you enjoy.
Lucy Bronze x reader
Description: R has to play out of position for Barça
Word Count: 1.5k
The season had been … tough, to say the least.
The start of the season was great, you were playing your favourite 6 or 8 positions. You were happy there – you were racking up assists, you had your name on score sheets more regularly. Things were really looking good for you. You were in the Starting XI regularly, slowly increasing the minutes to full matches every week. Your national team coaches had noticed your efforts to, soon earning that number 8 shirt at international level. Things were looking really, really good.
And then Mapi got injured. That was a blow to the team, no doubt. Her infectious energy was sorely missed during trainings, her technical prowess and defensive knowhow that were so integral to the team was difficult to replicate. But everyone was managing incredibly well. Slowly but surely, you were being played further away from where you were comfortable. And then Alexia was out again too. Another massive knock. Not just for the team, seeing the Captain out of commission was hard on everyone, but for you in particular. You were slowly being played further back on the pitch than you were entirely comfortable with. You weren’t a defender. You did your part, when necessary, but you weren’t a defender. You were never fully happy making those harsh tackles and committing essential fouls. Your main form of defence came from interceptions – your speed was something to be noted by all commentators. You were always the first onto a wayward ball. It was something you prided yourself on. It was something the whole team prided themselves on, none-so more than Lucy.
You didn’t know how it happened really, but by the away El Clásico, your picture was being displayed on screen in the no. 5 position. Who would have thought you would end up playing against Real Madrid as a centre-back? Especially when considering you started the season as an attacking midfield and borderline striker?
“I can’t do this.” You were full on panicking in the changing rooms. Your hands were gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles were turning white; your wide frantic eyes flittered nervously around the room; your skin was cold and clammy, your breathing erratic. You were on the verge of a panic attack.
“Sí, puedes, chica.” Patri soothed, running her hand in wide comforting circles along the length of your back. You had been fine during training, and most of the warmup but you had seen Moller Hansen give you, what you interpreted to be, a menacing glare, and something had snapped in you. “Amiga, you need to breathe” Patri reminded you, exaggerating her own breathing to try and prompt yours. It wasn’t working. Marta and Irene were with you, both looking on with some concern. “Ves a buscar la Lucy.” Patri ordered one of them, not taking her eyes off you. You had moved one hand from the bench to your thigh, your nails pressing harshly into the muscles, dragging unforgiving lines up and down.
Not 30 seconds after the door swung shut behind Marta, a very concerned Lucy appeared by your side, worry etched on her face.
“Can’t … do it,” you struggled to get the words out. Lucy’s heart shattered at your words. She had seen the hours you had put in, the number of dates you had rain checked to stay late with the defensive coaches, the frequent mornings when she had woken up, alone with your side of the bed cold with a note on your pillow telling her that coffee was in the machine, she just needed to press start and that you’d see her at training. If she didn’t know where you were, she would be concerned you were cheating on her. But no, you were in the gym at the crack of dawn, strengthening your muscles and pushing yourself to go beyond your previous limits. She was exhausted just looking at the work you were doing. But it wasn’t in vain. You looked so natural in the back line; anyone that didn’t know you would think you were comfortable. But no one saw these moments and sheer and raw terror that coursed through your veins moments before you stepped out of the changing rooms.
“You can, pretty girl. I promise you; you can do it.” Lucy said, gently crushing you to her chest. She was sad to admit that this was a common occurrence.
“Scared,” you croaked out. “let the team down.”
“No, my love, you will never let us down. I promise. You can never, ever let anyone down.” She cooed, her fingers dipping under your shirt to run her nails over your bare back. She pulled back after a few moments, waiting until your breathing evened out a little bit – her comforting smell washing over you and soothing your body more than any words could do. She cupped your face, gently running her thumb across your cheek. “I love you, so, so much. There are 10 other girls on that pitch, all of them believe in you. You wouldn’t be out there if the club didn’t think you could do this.” She said her words with such conviction. You took a deep breath and nodded – not believing her words, but the noise outside the changing room was growing louder, signalling that both teams were ready to go. You were still incredibly nervous, but you did have a job to do after all. You both left the changing room hand-in-hand, taking your customary places at the back of the line.
“Look at me, pretty girl.” She whispered in your ear as she caught you staring off into the distance. You turned to look at her, a slightly guilty look on your face as your bite your lip harshly. “I love you,” she said emphatically.
“I love you,” you said softly back, not as nervous as you were before, but definitely not good.
It was a tough match. Real Madrid had really stepped up their game since the last time you were out. It was a 1 – 1 all draw that was growing more precarious every minute. You had just 10 minutes left of the match and both sides were determined to break the stalemate.
Madrid were on the attack, having been able to pick out weaknesses in Barça’s defence. Lucy had drifted too far from her position, letting Carmona utilise the space by making a speedy break for it. You were the furthest back in your team’s line up. Your muscles were aching, your face was red with effort, yet you had to win this ball back. You couldn’t let Cata take on Carmona and Caicedo all by herself. You ran. Hell, you practically flew down that flank, pushing yourself harder and faster than you ideally wanted to.
You knew exactly what Olga was going to do before she did it. Maybe it was your experience up front? Maybe it was all the hours you had spent reviewing footage of various players you would face in the league? But you abandoned your chase on Carmona, changing your momentum to catch up to Caicedo just at the right time. Cata had drifted to the right in anticipation of Olga’s strike, but you knew she wouldn’t attempt the shot – not when Caicedo was sitting wide open with a goalkeeper-less net in front of her. You threw your body into the header – it was easily the harshest one you had given all season – possibly your whole career. Your technique was perfect though as you caught only the ball, using your momentum to bounce the ball away from the goal before bouncing painfully on the ground. You quickly rushed to your feet, watching Cata take advantage of a very confused Caicedo and a disappointed Carmona to chase the ball and boot it out into the stands.
There was a moment of quiet – at least it was quiet for you – before the world came back into focus. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you sucked in precious oxygen. Cata was the first to get her hands to you. She shook your shoulders almost violently, your head wobbled comically at the action.
“Tu nena preciosa,” she shouted, kisses raining down on your forehead. You felt head pats and light taps on your back as you made your way back into your position.
Finally, the full whistle went. Barça had won El Clásico yet again (although it was tougher than anyone cared to admit)
“You …” Lucy said as her warm arms wrapped you in a hug. “That was the best defending I have ever seen.” She smiled, clearly wanted to say and do more.
“I learned it from you,” you whispered as you squeezed back. “The flying header. A Lucy Bronze special,” you teased.
“And you said you couldn’t defend.” She scoffed. “I’m so proud of you.” She said, pressing kisses into your sweaty hairline. You blushed profusely but smiled, nonetheless. That was all you really wanted, to make Lucy proud. “I think this calls for a treat, don’t you?” She whispered seductively into your ear as she dragged you into the changing rooms, a sly smirk dancing on her lips.
Hope you enjoyed reading <3<3<3<3
#woso community#woso x reader#barca femeni x reader#woso#barca femeni#woso fanfics#fc barcelona#woso blurbs#woso imagine#woso oneshot#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x reader#barca women#fc barca#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni#barcelona women#engwnt x reader#lionesses x reader#engwnt#england women
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Dirty Daddy
Dbf/daddy!Joel x f!reader
Masterlist
Wordcount: 2,489
Summary: Congratulations, you've just earned yourself a daddy, albeit not for being a good girl.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, light consensual choking, light slapping, oral receiving m!&f!, fingering, implied age gap, mentions of the names 'slut, brat, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl, and daddy', Joel's all greasy and sweaty.
Notes: it was this picture that inspired this along with part of a request I received that I'm writing a different daddy!fic for. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider
Joel groans as he tightens a bolt on his truck, sweat drips down his forehead and mixes with the dirt and grease that cover his face and hands. He's been working on this truck for hours, ever since it broke down on him during a job, his last job of the day. He could be home relaxing. Instead, he's here. Luckily for him, his buddy, your dad offered him the use of his garage to work on it, and Joel gladly accepted. It wasn't often that he got the chance to work on his baby, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a broken engine get in his way.
But as he stands up and stretches his aching back, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It isn't just the truck that’s been giving him trouble - it’s you, who's been teasing him mercilessly since he arrived. Wearing those skimpy clothes, that short fucking skirt, that leaves little to the imagination, bending over in front of him and "accidentally" brushing up against him as you walk by. Joel's been trying to ignore you, but it's getting harder and harder to do so.
As if on cue, you walk into the garage with a smirk on your face. "Hey Joel, need any help?" You ask, leaning over the open hood, letting your cleavage do most of the talking.
Joel grits his teeth as he looks up straight at your breasts and then quickly back down to the engine. "No, I got it.” he says as he looks up once more only to see you pouting, but Joel can see the spark in your eye. You're enjoying this, you fucking minx.
"Come on, Joel. I'm just trying to help." You reach up to adjust yourself on the hood of the truck, giving him a clearer view of your breasts that are now pretty much popping out of your top. You catch his gaze and smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. You hop down and start touching his arm, “cmon, I can help, I'll hold the flashlight or something.”
Joel snaps, dropping the tool he's holding, and pushes you roughly against the nearest free wall. His grip is tight around your arms despite being all greased up from his truck. "I know what you're doin'," he growls, "And it ain't gonna work."
You can see the fire in his eyes, and you know you've pushed him too far. But instead of backing down, you challenge him. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Joel's eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in his muscles. "I'm warnin’ you," he says, his voice gets deeper and quieter. "Stop, or you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for."
"Is that a promise?" you ask.
Joel's eyes go dark, and he grabs your face roughly, his dirty fingers grasping into the hollows of your cheeks, pulling you close, leaving his musky, grimy scent on you. "You have no idea what you're gettin’ yourself into, do ya?” Joel's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your face. "You think you're being clever, huh? Lemme tell ya something, sweetheart. You're playin with fire, and you're gonna get burned."
You can feel the heat radiating off of Joel's body, and you know he's serious. But instead of being afraid, you're turned on. You've never seen this side of Joel before, and you can't help but feel yourself getting wet.
Without warning, Joel grabs you by the waist and pins you harder against the wall as he grinds himself against you, his hardness pressing into your core. "This whatcha want babygirl?" His lips brush against your ear. "You've been teasin' me all day, I think it's my turn to have a little fun now."
You moan as Joel's hands roam over your body, roughly groping your breasts and ass, leaving dark stains across your clothes. You can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you can't wait to feel him inside of you.
"Please," you whimper, "I need it."
Joel smirks as he pulls away from you. "Beggin already?" He says, 'That ain’t like you."
He reaches down and unzips his pants, pulling out his long, hard cock and starts to stroke it. "On your knees," he commands.
You don't hesitate, sinking to your knees in front of him. You take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel's eyes darken as he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head towards his cock. "Open wide, and don't fuckin’ bite."
You comply, opening your mouth wide as Joel slides his cock inside. You moan as you feel him hit the back of your throat, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you suck him off.
Joel groans as he fucks your mouth, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into the very back of your throat. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your tongue.
"Such a good little slut, suckin my cock like a pro."
You moan around his cock, your pussy getting wetter with every thrust.
"M’gonna come baby, and you're gonna swallow every last drop."
You nod eagerly, your mouth still wrapped around his cock. Joel groans as he explodes inside of you, his hot seed filling your mouth as you swallow every last drop just like he said. He pulls out, his cock still hard as he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Good girl, you earned that."
Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before he walks over and starts to clear off the workbench. He pushes aside tools and spare parts, making enough space for you. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a stern look in his eyes. "Get up here," he commands, patting the now-clear space on the workbench.
You don't hesitate, hopping up onto the bench and spreading your legs wide for him. Joel steps between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to the edge. "You've been a brat all day, teasin' me and temptin me," his fingers dig into your skin.
Joel's gaze is intense as he looks at you. His eyes are filled with desire and a hint of something darker. He leans in closer, his breath is hot on your skin as he starts to kiss a trail down your body, his lips leave a burning sensation in their wake.
His hands roam over your body, roughly groping anything he can as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. You can feel his facial hair scratching against your sensitive flesh, and it sends shivers down your spine.
When he reaches your thighs, Joel smirks and spreads your legs wider, exposing your wet and aching core to his gaze and no panties - you drive him crazy. "You've been teasin' me all day, s’only fair. I get to taste what I've been missin.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy. Without warning, Joel starts to lick and suck at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he teases you. You moan loudly, your hips bucking up towards his mouth as you try to get closer to him.
Joel's fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your pussy, sucking and licks at your wetness. Lapping it up like a thirsty dog. He continues to feast on your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness as you moan and writhe beneath him. Just as you feel yourself getting close to the edge, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting and needy.
"Uh-uh I ain't done with ya."
You whimper in frustration, and your hips buck up towards him as you try to get him to continue. But Joel is in control, and he's not going to let you come that easily. He stands up and looks down at you. You can see the hardness of his cock that's been tucked back into his jeans, and you know he's just as turned on as you are.
Joel reaches down and helps you off the workbench, his grip on you is firm as he leads you towards the door of the garage. "We're gonna finish this in your bedroom.”
Your body is still tingling with desire as you follow him out of the garage and towards your house.
As you reach the door of your house, Joel turns to you with a serious look in his eyes. "We gotta be quiet, go make sure the coast is clear.”
You quickly and quietly make your way through the house, checking each room to make sure no one is around. When you reach your father's office, you see that he's deeply engrossed in his work, completely unaware of what's happening just a few feet away.
You give Joel a quick nod, signaling that the coast is clear. Joel grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to your bedroom, his grip firm, and reassuring. When you reach your bedroom, Joel pushes you inside and closes the door behind you, locking it to ensure that no one will interrupt you.
Joel looks around your bedroom, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. He turns to you, "Take off your clothes," he commands.
You hesitate for a moment, your hands hovering over your shirt. But the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not in the mood for games. As you slip out of your shirt, Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the lacy bra that barely covers your breasts.
"Keep goin,"
As you slip out of your jeans, Joel's eyes follow the movement, taking in the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs.
"Take it all off baby," he commands.
You comply, slipping out of your bra and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him.
Joel undresses himself, his movements quick and efficient. He pulls off his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his chest and arms. His jeans follow, revealing the long and hard cock that's been tucked away, waiting so patiently for you.
You can't help but stare as Joel undresses, your eyes taking in the dirt and grease that cover his body. He's been working on his truck all day, and the evidence is clear on his skin.
"Like whatcha see, babygirl?"
You nod, unable to speak as you take in the sight of him. Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your body. His fingers leave dark stains across your skin, the evidence of his work still present.
He lays you down on the bed, and his body hovers over yours. His hands roam over your body. His touch is rough, but there's a tenderness to it that drives you crazy.
He leans down to kiss you, his lips rough against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes you. You can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of what he's done to you.
Joel's hand moves between your legs, his fingers exploring your throbbing clit. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit but never quite touching it. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up towards his hand.
"Please, Joel," you beg, "I need to come."
But Joel is relentless, continuing to tease you just like you did to him, as he watches you squirm beneath him. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your orgasm building deep inside of you.
“Joel,” you whine, “don't be an asshole, let me come.”
Joel chuckles and gives you a light but sobering smack to the cheek. “You don't get to be a little brat and get your way - Beg for it.”
"Fuck you-," you whimper, your voice trembling with need. "Please daddy.”
Joel's eyes blaze as he hears you call him Daddy. He increases the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brings you closer to the edge again, he can feel it. "You like that, babygirl?" his breath is hot as he leans close to your ear. "You like it when Daddy teases you?”
“Mmm, yes daddy yes. Feels s-so good.”
Joel can't hold back any longer. He positions himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your wet and aching core. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust and something darker. He growls as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself deep inside of you.
You moan loudly as you feel him fill you up, your pussy stretching to accommodate his ever growing, ever hardening size. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you. Each thrust is harder than the last, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
Joel's hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. His fingers dig into your skin. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your sensitive flesh.
"You like it when Daddy fucks ya like the dirty little brat you are?"
You moan in response, your hips buck up to meet his thrusts. You can feel your orgasm building deep inside of you. “Want you to choke me daddy, please.”
Joel doesn't hesitate, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back as he wraps his other hand around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make you feel lightheaded.
You moan as you feel his cock press against your entrance once again. He thrusts forward, filling you up completely. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you.
You can feel your orgasm building once again, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. "Not yet, babygirl, fuck - wanna come with ya.” Joel increases his pace. His thrusts become erratic as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, your orgasm just on the edge.
"Come for me, baby," Joel commands.
Your moans are muffled and strained as you feel yourself fall over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You can feel your pussy clenching around Joel's cock, milking him for all he's worth.
Joel groans as he feels you come, his hips thrusting forward as he empties himself inside of you. He collapses beside you, his body spent and satisfied.
As he catches his breath, Joel looks at you with a satisfied smirk. "Next time you pull that shit, babygirl, I ain't gonna letcha come."
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x f!reader
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Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot
For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests!
Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1.
You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences.
Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor.
“Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically.
“She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!”
“Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.”
“She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.”
“She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”.
You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor.
“A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?”
“I heard she was a failed actress.”
“I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.”
“I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.”
“Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.”
“At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.”
“She’s scary. I swear”
“I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.”
“I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!”
“One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.”
You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department.
Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin.
“Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally.
“Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.”
You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.”
“I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.
"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"
"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"
"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.
“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath.
“Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences.
“Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others.
Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door.
“Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased.
The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh.
Natasha narrowed her eyes.
“What’s going on, Y/n?”
“Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely.
Natasha scoffed.
“Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married. Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?”
Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes.
The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha.
You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha.
“You’re a mean woman, you know that?”
“Hey, you texted me, babe.”
“It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.”
“It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered.
Your stomach growled.
“Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded.
“Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha romonova#black widow#natasha x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x female reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura
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knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.
it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.
in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.
“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like.
“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.
“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?
“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.”
when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.
“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”
“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.
“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.”
“wh-rafe!”
but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.
you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.
he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.
“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.
“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.”
you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.
when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?
it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.
“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband.
“what’s that?”
“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”
“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”
and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you.
“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”
it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum.
“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.
“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.
#lol <3 this has been in the drafts for SO LONG#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#what should we call her#wifey reader
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LACY (p. jay)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments
word count: 3.4k
synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩
guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist
Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up.
“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”
“jay deserves sm better”
“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”
“pls tell me this is a joke”
“girlie gotta have a good head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”
As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already.
Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self.
In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.
And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.
Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again.
Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure.
“Baby?”
The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.
“Are you there, love?”
You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is.
“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you.
And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”
“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”
A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.
“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”
You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”
Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”
You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.
He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it.
But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.
Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers.
“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.”
You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips.
“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.”
You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.
He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests.
The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.
“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”
With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor.
His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold.
The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”
With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly. Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.
His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.
A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes.
Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up.
You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly.
A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again.
Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive.
You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites.
“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly.
“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high.
Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure.
You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears.
He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.
You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.
“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him.
He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind.
“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again.
“I love you more.”
And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.
But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man.
That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything.
His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers.
“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek.
Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move.
Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick.
His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time.
“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.
He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”
His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.
You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.
He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.
“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.
You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”
And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you.
Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs.
“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday.
The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin.
You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again.
His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe.
“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him.
You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment.
Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.
Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.
It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”
Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.
Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully.
Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl.
He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed.
You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.
When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.
“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head.
“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”
You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door.
When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.
“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.
You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”
You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.
“Marry me.”
Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately
And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you
Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you
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note: i actually really like how it turned out xx
#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen hard hours#park jay x reader#jay x reader smut#jay x reader#park jay imagines#park jay smut#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay smut#jay hard hours
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[Angst]
Fuckboy Yan sleeping with his shy lifelong best-friend's childhood crush - unaware that the two had already been on multiple casual dates so far-
"I hate you."
Three little words... They sound unfamiliar coming from your mouth of all places. As children, your best "friend" aired his hatred for you often - most cases being whenever you denied him your juice boxes at lunch. He never meant it though- Regardless of how much of a pushover you were back then, he could never truly hate you. Not now. Not then. He always thought the same could be said for you. He had always been trouble for you, yet you allowed him to cling to your side - despite his bold claims that it was the other way around. You both had your faults, but he knew you'd be together till the very end.
So why... Why are you looking at him like that now?
"You have everything. Why... Why couldn't you just let me have this one thing? Why couldn't you let me have them?"
His first mistake was writing your recent burst of happiness off as something else- You had been so happy these past few weeks - happier than you'd ever been in his company. He assumed it was because of that new promotion you received at work. Never would he have guessed it was because of them- His heart couldn't take it.
"I was hesitant to give them your number when they asked. I realize now they were just using me to get to you. Maybe I thought too highly of them, but you- I trusted you."
He didn't know. They nevet spoke a word of your budding relationship through their little fling til the very end. It's all their fault. He'll kill them.
"Just... Stay away from me from now on."
He'll kill them for doing this to him. To you both. He was never the best guy, but he was trying so hard to be good enough for you someday. Now that chance is gone. They wouldn't feel half the anguish he's going through now if he snapped their pretty little neck.
"Hey.... Yeah, I talked to them. They took it bette4 than I thought.... Why don't you come over one more time? Y/n's over it already so seeing each other one last time couldn't hurt, right?'
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere insert#yandere scenarios#male yandere#yandere oc#yandere blurb#yandere angst
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
who does it to tease you ↴
✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions
“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...”
“your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting."
“god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”
✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.
“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun."
"i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.”
“thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.
“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.”
“beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now."
"how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.
“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.”
“hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.”
"fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."
✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?
“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.”
“too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.”
“it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”
#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#todo aoi smut#todo aoi x reader#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma hiromi smut#shiu kong smut#hakari kinji smut#hakari kinji x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#todo x reader#higuruma x you#higuruma smut#higuruma x reader#hakari kinji x reader#hakari x you#hakari x reader#shiu kong x reader#shiu kong x you#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.
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