#if you're lying about what is happening in the news
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i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333
tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3
Home is whenever I’m with you
Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words
He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.
But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.
“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."
You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.
And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.
And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.
What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom?
Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.
Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.
His mom is safe.
A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.
That’s good to hear. Is he fine?
Not great, but he's managing.
That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.
You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.
Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.
And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck
“Spence, what are you—”
Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.”
“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”
“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”
“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”
You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.
“How’s your mom?”
He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”
You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”
He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”
Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”
He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.
“Do you want anything? Water, food?”
He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”
"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”
You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”
You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”
"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."
He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”
You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”
He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.
“You grew out your facial hair.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness.
You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."
“Really?”
“It’s growing on me.”
His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.”
You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.
"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.
"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.
“I thought I was never going to see you again.”
"Why would you think that?”
He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”
You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”
“Oh, honey…”
“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”
You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”
He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”
You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”
He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."
He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.
“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”
You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.
“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”
He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.
You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.
You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.
Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds
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Before the poll ends, I want to talk about one of my favorite scenes (the cafe meeting). So, in the first date, the thing about Tommy saying "I don't think you're ready" isn't just because Buck makes the "hot chicks" comment, or doesn't want to tell Eddie at that moment that, yeah, they're on a date.
It's also because Buck is tense, looking everywhere, (kind of) more focused on what's around them than on his date (which is understandable when you're in that phase of not fully understanding your feelings), the "I'm an ally/pride flag on my IG" comment, how he uses words like "dude" and "bro", how he gets defensive about the "stop lying about who I am" comment, and basically all his body language.
The beautiful thing is how Buck changes all that when they meet at the cafe. He speaks with much more self-confidence, he shows Tommy that he wants to show this new self with him, and Tommy at first doesn't know very well how to react (Buck inviting him to Madney's wedding as his date means everyone will know they're together, and it's a VERY important step), but he agrees knowing what's probably going to happen (I mean, Buck's parents will be there, and that could end badly) and at the same time shows Buck that he will be supportive and is sure of their relationship.
Honestly, it's a very important moment for me as a queer person, and I have a lot of things to say about that scene, but yeah.
What do you think?
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Fill the Empty Space
*NSFW*
Warning: Soft dominant Art, Thigh humping, Fingering
Summary: Art confesses to you and you're conflicted and intrigued to take the risk with your long-time friend.
I still haven't watched the movie but the edits are making me fall for him I'm going to wait till it comes out in HD so I can see the beauty of this man.
You look at him, "What?" our eyes meet as you feel slightly nervous looking at the blonde. He shakes his head as his curls bounce against his forehead. "Nothing." The tone he used was soft and a slight whisper as you chuckled. "Then why are you looking at me like that?" You try to match his calm demeanor as your emotions rise.
Art shrugs. "You're just beautiful, the most beautiful person I have ever met."
The confession instantly makes your face hot, you don't know what to say so you just look away chuckling. The boy tilts his head in confusion, "What? I'm serious." He says in clarification. All you can do is nod as your shyness comes into play."Why are you being shy? You've known me for how long?" He asks with a smile.
Knowing him for years isn't playing a part in my shyness, I'm comfortable with him, and I always have been. It's the fact that we're stepping into a new territory, that's what's making me nervous. Art, the blonde tennis player who can go to nationals with Tashi and Patrick Zweig. His intelligence and the way his mind works is magnificent, he's going to Stanford for god sake but seeing him in this light... it never happened before.
Art can see how your thoughts are moving in different directions, "Hey." He says softly as you look at him. "It's ok, don't stress yourself you don't have to think too hard about what I said. I know we never did this before but don't sweat it and don't take it seriously. You can forget I even said anything." He comforts.
It's now or nothing, I can either do what he says and forget about it, or I can encourage this and go further. But how far is this going to go? I don't know we'll just have to take the risk.
You sigh, "What if I don't want to forget what you said?" You ask not looking at him. "Then you don't have to." He says softly before he scoots over to you. "I wasn't lying you know, I really do think you're beautiful, from the first day I met you." Art makes another confession making you look at him. His eyes soften as you look at you, the expression on his face makes you melt. Art leans in as he kisses you making you shocked. Once you realize what was happening you leaned into the kiss.
After a moment his kisses go to your jaw and then your neck as you start to feel the yearning for him. Your body arches into his touch as he pulls you close to him. The soft kisses on your skin feel so good as you want more. His scent is intoxicating as it feels like he's everywhere making you overwhelmed but you don't care. You start to push yourself against him as he laughs, "Does someone want something?" He mumbles against your neck before he hears a yes coming from you.
"Come here."
The man pulls you onto his leg as your eyes make contact with his. Both of your bodies meet when he presses up against you. "Ok? You comfortable?" The check-in makes you look at him in awe even though that is the bare minimum but, it's Art. You try to figure out how you got in this situation but you aren't complaining. "I'm ok." The comfortability that you feel makes Art feel great because it's the fact that he can get you to be comfortable, with him.
His soft hands grip your hips then give it a squeeze. The atmosphere starts to feel stuffy when he slots his leg in between yours. A soft smirk forms on his face as he can sense your nervousness. Worry comes across his face before he gives you a kiss on your nose to ease your nerves.
"Do you know what's about to happen?"
The instant feeling of heat between your legs starts to form. All you can do is nod in response but he doesn't approve. "Use your words. I want to hear you say it." A lump is felt in your throat. "Yes, I know." You mumble before you receive a kiss from him. His hands grip your hips softly, "Let me help you hm?" He asks before you nod.
Getting confirmation he starts to rock you against his thigh. The stimulation causes a reaction out of you as he guides you. A gasp is let out every now and then feeling his thigh against your clothed core. The thickness of his thigh feels so good as you start to yearn for his touch. Your movements are controlled by his hands, his tough soft big hands that guide you through the whole thing.
The moans coming from your mouth are like music to his ears. Art can't help but to kiss you from the adrenaline. You pant in his ear as you can feel yourself getting wet, the need for him increasing and you want him all over you in any way shape, or form. The jeans are starting to get in the way of what you need as you grind harder to seek it. The hands on your waist tighten as he sees the desperation in your movements.
"God, if you keep this up you might break my leg." He chuckles as you inhale. "Sorry, I just can't.." you try to express as he looks up at you. "Hm?" he says with all focus on you. Biting your lip trying to gain the confidence to speak up, Art notices this tiling his head. "What do you need hm? Tell me and I'll do it." He says this as he still rocks your slightly soaked core against him.
"I'll do it." He repeats as his voice drops slightly.
"More..." That's all you can say nibbling on your lip before Art understands exactly what you need. Slowly stopping his movements not wanting to startle you he loops his fingers in your belt loops waiting for your confirmation. Grabbing his hand and putting it on the button on your pants surprises him slightly from your assertive move.
"Are you positive?" His thumb taps on your button as he slightly teases you. A small huff is released from your mouth but you understand. The comfort and security you feel with this man is crazy.
God I want need him so badly. It's like I want to give him my all and more, maybe he deserves it, maybe he doesn't but we won't know unless we... take that leap.
"I'm sure."
The sentence that started it all, is spoken into existence and won't be taken back.
Art undoes your pants letting you stand up, from that he slides them down your legs as you step out of them. You hear a chuckle coming from him. A nervous shiver travels down your spine as you look down at him. He smiles softly as he nods towards the wet spot that is on your panties instantly making you look away. He grabs your hand pulling you back to him.
"Wanted more huh?" His hand spreads your legs while you feel his bulge against your butt. "Show me where you need me." This instantly makes you chuckle nervously, "Do I have to?" He smiles nodding, "Yes, you have to because how am I supposed to take care of you and I don't know what you need?" He grabs your hand before he waits for you until you are comfortable enough to take the chance.
His lips meet your hand as he kisses it then your wrist. Feeling the courage you guide his hand in between your legs placing his fingers on your covered clit. "Here?" Art asks to which you nod. He brushes his thumb across it as you ache for more. Your hand grips his shoulder as you whine. "Shhh." the tennis player whispers in your ear as you bite your lip. His thumb makes slightly faster circles on your clit.
"Yeah? You like that pretty girl?"
My lip starts to get raw from me nibbling on it so much. Nodding answering his question you can't keep still in his lap. "Yeah, I bet you did." The circular motion through your panties is so exhilarating. From his thumb to his palm he rubs it slightly harder as you gasp for air. Your ears start to ring slightly as you keep holding on to him.
"Look at that, you're getting wetter by the minute." He says with a chuckle. You look away in embarrassment not wanting to face him anymore. His lips meet your forehead in a soft touch followed by a whisper, "Don't hide from me, it's ok." He reassures as he presses down more on your clit.
Your body squirms against him as he holds you into place. "Stop moving sweetheart, let me help you." The man rubs you more as whimpers fall from your lips. "Feel good, don't it? Your little clit is so sensitive and needy." You push your hips against his hand more trying to get what you crave, but you just can't reach it. The struggle starts to get real as move around more trying to search for what you need. Art studies you as he can see the frustration in your face and body language.
"What's wrong huh? What is it?"
How the hell does he know something is wrong before I even say something. At this point, if he doesn't do something I'm going to crawl out my own skin.
"Just, a little more." You ask looking at him with soft eyes. "I know exactly what you need." He mumbles before his fingers move from your clit to your opening making you bite your lip. You two lock eyes as he slowly rubs your slit feeling it pulse against his finger. Leaning in his lips meet yours as he kisses you. Feeling your body start to calm down he takes his chance trying to decrease the chances of hurting you.
He slips a finger in making you gasp as he takes it slow. "This what you wanted?" The man confirms as he moves his finger as you clench on it. You let a moan slip as you feel the pleasure come down on you. Art can see how much relief this made you feel making his eyes soften, "Aww poor baby, you should've said something, I would've skipped all the foreplay." The statement makes you look away shyly as he tsks. "That's your problem, you need to stop being shy, it's just me." He reassures.
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous." You try to explain before he cuts you off before you can finish the sentence. "Don't apologize I know you're trying, I know." You release some tension as he brings you comfort while the need for him gets worse by the minute.
"Art please, just-" your voice gets cut off as pushes in another finger making you cry out softly which takes him by surprise. "Wow, that's the loudest you've been all day." His lips meet your jaw as he softly fingers you. Everything feels overwhelming, you put your arms around his neck to somewhat ground you while his fingers go at a steady pace getting covered in your wetness.
Out the corner of your eye you see his hand reach behind you putting it on your back to hold you. "Look at you, you must be so achy down there." The mumble is soft and raspy while your pussy flutters around his fingers.
In agreement you nod, why? because he was right, he's been right so far it's like he is always right.
He is always right.
In desperate need of him, you start to grind down on his fingers as you rock against him pressing against his bulge by accident. A moan exerts from him making him throb in his sweatpants. The selfish feeling comes into your mind as you look at him. Nervous you push against it again, "Art, let me- I want to help you feel good too." Your suggestion makes him kiss your temple letting you relax in his grasp. "Don't worry about me I'm ok, this is all about you."
That line lingers in your head, "Don't worry." In clarification, he catches your attention by whispering to you.
"You hear me?"
"I hear you."
The answer you gave pleases him and he starts to speed up. "That's what I like to hear." The praise makes you ache slightly more as you moan against him pushing yourself more in his lap. The feeling of his hand rubbing your back gives you a sense of security as you grind harder. You pull on his shirt gripping it as whimpers slip out.
"Shh, there you go."
"I'll fill you up very good one day, make you feel like you're in heaven while you let me take care of you." The image comes into my mind as that does sound like heaven, something I need to have a least once.
"Would you like that? I think you would with your pussy squeezing my fingers like this." The tennis player leaves kisses on your neck whispering to you as his fingers hit a certain spot making you gasp. "Right there?" His fingers nudge the spot again and again as you softly beg for more. The intrusion of his fingers inside you feels so good, and he was right (again) I am squeezing his fingers.
Well, my fault that you're making me horny to the point I want you to use me while you talk me through it as we get addicted to the feeling of each other as you promise to not let me go. A little sappy but whatever, this feels too good to pass up.
"Art if you keep going, I'm going to cum." You give him a warning as you feel his thick fingers move in and out of you.
Art smirks, that's what he wanted, that was his goal. The perfect picture is having you fall apart at the seams in his arms. Begging and squirming while you wet his fingers are already taking him by the storm. Hopefully, if you'll let him, (he thinks you will) he'll make you feel good with his cock, make you feel everything you haven't felt before. For now one step at a time, he has to work with his fingers, that's not hard to do as you're already so close.
"Beautiful." He thinks to himself.
Your pussy flutters once again as that signals for your release coming up. The pace is kept the same not wanting to interrupt your rhythm and he doesn't switch up anything. "Oh, so close aren't you, I can feel it." He teases as you let out a breath. "Please, Please Art." The feeling of your release is getting closer by the second as he looks at you in awe. "Begging? C'mon, tell me what you need me to do." Art sounds determined to do whatever it takes to please you, that's his job.
"Make me cum, please I'm so close, help me." He kisses you as he moves his fingers with purpose. "I got you, I'll make you cum just sit there and feel me and look pretty." Your legs start to shake slightly as you cling to him making him chuckle. The heat worsens as you start to pant softly feeling so many emotions. You close your eyes as you let the pleasure take over you as your pussy clenches around his fingers.
"Good girl cum for me just like that." The blonde boy mutters in your ear as he helps you ride through it before you slump against him. Art rubs the back of your head with his other hand as he slowly pulls his fingers away. The kisses that start to be placed on your temple relax you. He soothes you while he pampers you giving you time to calm down. You lift your head up to look at him as he gives you a soft smile. "Thank you." You whisper to him lowly but he shakes his head.
"No, thank you."
#art donaldson#art donaldson smut#mike faist#mike faist smut#mike faist x reader#patrick zweig#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig x reader#zendaya#tashi donaldson#challengers#art challengers#challengers movie#tashi duncan#black reader
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you're gonna hate me soon ch. 2 preview. because i like you a lot
When the party reconvened the following Monday, it was like nothing had ever happened. It wasn’t the first time that someone in the group had drunk a little too much or too fast and said something they shouldn’t have—that person was usually Laios—but it hadn’t gone as far as a fistfight in recent memory. Still, when Laios and Falin arrived at their usual spot at the tavern, his teammates greeted him like any other day. Chilchuck raised a stein of something Laios hoped wasn’t alcoholic to hail him, but there was an ever-so-slight upturn to his normal morning grimace, so maybe it was. Laios felt his pulse quicken and focused on his breathing, but it just made him look even more flustered. He cleared his throat in address.
“Alright, everyone, it’s slim pickings on the available jobs this week,” Laios announced. “There weren’t many listings on the boards, and most of them sounded sketchy. Another ‘package delivery’ to one of the unregulated taverns on the second floor, another ‘contraband seizure’ on the lower levels with no seal of authenticity, tons of requests for those kinds of walking mushrooms, a couple of ‘succubus hunts’ looking for entry-level adventurers…”
Chilchuck rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. “People are still posting those? I can’t imagine there’s a wide pool of scabs left to take them.”
“There’s a sucker born every minute,” Namari shrugged, gnawing on a strip of bacon burnt into a stick of charcoal, just the way she liked it. “Half-minute, for you guys.”
Chilchuck swatted Namari in the shoulder, a backhanded crack of his knuckles that felt like a bug bite to her. She laughed it off, giving him a gentle sock in the arm that made him wince.
“The postings have been generally dubious lately, haven’t they?” Shuro asked. Laios nodded to him, defeated.
“There’s a lot of bureaucratic red tape involved in making sure the job postings are legitimate,” Marcille said, twining a ribbon through her rope braid. Falin went to hold one of the partitioned locks of hair for her as she struggled with an awkward angle. “But I’ve heard that the correspondence offices are swamped with all the new people coming to the island lately. Maybe things are starting to slip through the cracks?”
“Nothing’s stopping anybody from just walking up to the public postings and sticking up a piece of official-looking parchment, either,” said Laios. “Generally, there are officers on patrol to monitor what goes up, but they go out in shifts. If they’re spread too thin, they check less, forget more often, and a newbie takes a crappy monster bait job.”
“And probably dies,” Chilchuck chimed in.
“Thank you, Chilchuck.”
“So, is there anything worth doing this week?” Namari crossed her arms. “Or could I have slept in today?”
“There is one…” Laios said, trying to contain his excitement. “There’s a hydra on the fourth floor.”
Namari grinned and leaned in, elbows on the table. “Now we’re talking.”
Shuro nodded seriously, indicating he was already planning his approach. Marcille blanched at the concept; she hadn’t been to the fourth floor yet in her adventuring career. Falin had assisted in the job hunt and was aware of the plan, but she still grinned toothily at the thought of seeing one.
“You sure we can handle a hydra?” Chilchuck asked. “Two manticores were tough enough. These things have a dozen heads, don’t they? It’s like fighting a whole group of monsters at once.”
“Oh?” Laios grinned. “Are you planning on participating in the hunt this time?”
Chilchuck spat his orange juice (?) back into the cup. “Hell no!”
“That’s a shame,” Laios pouted. “At any rate, I was hoping to borrow those manticore quills you picked up. Did you happen to sell those off?”
Chilchuck had to think about it, scratching his sideburns. Laios had seen him hungover before, but he was in a better mood than usual for such a state, if a bit slow. “I think I got a few still lying around.” He’d been planning to try to find a way to fletch them without spilling the venom everywhere, having found no success. The tips were sharply pointed and might serve well as a pick if carved down, but they were quite valuable in their raw form. Like many things he had trouble deciding on, they’d been stuffed under his desk and left alone.
Laios beamed at him. “Awesome. That’ll be really helpful.” Chilchuck averted his eyes and got his orange juice (?) back down on the second shot.
“Don’t mention it.”
“According to the posting, this hydra is still a juvenile.” Laios continued. “It should be much easier to take down than a full-grown adult, but there’s something to consider: this listing is almost a month old by now. The hydra shouldn’t have grown too much from that sighting, but we all know the thing about hydras, right?”
Everyone around the table nodded; Namari made a what-do-you-think sort of gesture.
“I need all of you to verbally confirm it for me, okay? Just to be sure.”
A collective groan arose.
“Cut off all the heads at once, or two more grow in its place,” the party intoned, with the slow and deliberate cadence of grammar schoolers.
“Very good, everyone. Thank you. I know that sounds insulting, but if you have experience in this kind of work, you know why I’m checking.”
“Common rookie mistake.” Namari sipped her coffee.
“That’s right. And if there’s an influx of rookies coming in, desperate for work…”
“Then the hydra might have gotten a few heads trimmed already.” Shuro folded his arms into his sleeves. “That could be a problem.”
“But it also means that there’s more we can loot from it,” Laios smiled. He pumped his fist a little, unable to control his excitement. “We’ve got some good experience under our belts now, and I’ve done a lot of research on hydras. I think we’re ready to take one on now. They’re fascinating monsters, members of the dragon family! They’ve got an extremely interesting skeletal adaptation that—”
“Sounds good to me.” Namari rose from the bench and stretched, pulling her arm over her shoulder. “I need a really thin taper on the blade for hydras, right?”
“Y-yeah, the hide’s thin for a dragon but the muscle is tough. We need to make sure we get a clean, complete slice when we do get the chance to take a swing. When hydras are young, their heads get severed easily. It sounds like it’s counterintuitive, but—”
“I get it. I’ve fought them before. Just tell me when to slice ‘em and I’ll slice ‘em.”
“See, that’s the problem. We don’t know exactly how many heads this thing has. How do we ensure that we cut them all off at once?” Namari grimaced and sat down, settling in for another lecture. “So that’s why I asked you to meet me here! I have an attack strategy I like to call ‘the kebab method’.”
Namari stood back up. “Nah, that’s cool, see you—”
Chilchuck put a hand on her arm. “Let him talk, Namari.”
Namari stared incredulously down at Chilchuck, then grimaced when she put the pieces together. She clucked her tongue and flopped into her seat for good. She elbowed Chilchuck in the ribs and muttered something in a language Laios didn’t recognize. Chilchuck drummed his fingertips on his arm and ignored it.
Laios smiled down at Chilchuck, and the sour look on his face softened. He twirled his wrist, motioning for Laios to continue. “Continue. I don’t have all day, pal.”
Laios chuckled, blushing a bit. “Right, sorry! So, the manticore quills are great for this, but I’ve also picked up some long-range spears—well, I guess they’re more like polearms?” Falin shot Marcille a horrified glance. The hydra was the furthest thing from their minds. Namari opened her mouth to correct him on his weapons terminology but jolted a little, having gotten kicked in the ankle. “Each head of the hydra has its own spinal cord, much like ours, that runs down down the center and to the back of the hydra’s throat. So if you stab around the spine between the ribs that protect the hydra’s esophagus, everything stays intact. Severing the spinal cord is what triggers the new heads to grow in, provided that at least one head is left intact when the reflex kicks in.”
“So we could use those polearms to hold it in place? I don’t think my upper arm strength can pull that off,” Marcille protested.
“We could push the spears into the walls and floor to ground them,” Shuro offered. Laios snapped his fingers.
“Yes! That’s a great idea. But I could only afford so many spears, and Chilchuck only has so many quills long enough to pull this off. So it’s important that we’re careful about how many we use. Considering how thin the hydra’s necks are, I thought we could try to skewer multiple heads on the same spear.”
A silence fell on the party, and perhaps the next table over, upon hearing this flawless plan.
“Hence, the kebab method,” Marcille clarified, her tone flat. Chilchuck shrank into his chair when he felt Namari looking over at him. Laios nodded.
“I think it could work,” Shuro said. Laios lit up at the validation. “There’s some merit to restricting the hydra’s movements. Not all of us can restrain the beast on our own, but if securely speared through, we could use the hydra’s muscle strength against itself. Stabbing through the esophagus would also prevent the hydra from swallowing any of us outright, if it has grown large enough to do so.”
“Exactly! Thank you, Shuro.” Shuro seemed a little exhausted by his energy, but Falin gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder that he’d be thinking about for the rest of his life. “And we don’t have to get a perfect hit with every spear. I got as many as I could afford, so if the hydra rips the spear out of your hands or it’s too dangerous to keep going, we can fall back, grab another spear, and try again.”
“So we’re trying to reduce the amount of variables in fighting the hydra?” Marcille asked, more convinced this time.
“The less we have to worry about the hydra writhing around, the easier it’ll be to synchronize the finishing blow.” Laios grinned at Namari. “And that’s when we finally slice ‘em. Everyone clear?”
Namari grinned back. Shuro bowed his head in understanding. Marcille still had her reservations, but Falin was pumping her up. Chilchuck sat back in his seat with his arms crossed, abstaining from any conversation about combat, but when Laios caught his eye, the corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk that Laios couldn’t decipher.
“That’s—that’s all!” Laios croaked. “We’ll all meet at the dungeon tomorrow, as usual. Take whatever preparations you need. Pack heavily, it’s a long trip.”
The party dispersed. Falin and Marcille lingered at their end of the table as Namari hustled to leave, lost in consideration of what weapon she’d be taking down with her. Shuro hung around for a while, trying to find an inroad to talk to Falin, but Marcille was well-equipped to play defense and came prepared with updated Daltian Clan relationship charts. The long-haired swordsman was stuck talking to Laios for an excruciating moment before he politely excused himself.
“Hey,” Chilchuck said, raising a hand. Laios turned from watching Shuro leave, ears perked.
“You have a question, Chilchuck?”
“You mind going over that thing you said about their skeleton? Sounded like it might have been important. You said severing the spinal cord is what activates the head… growing… thing?”
Laios’ eyes glittered. “Oh, uh, yeah! It’s like how some lizards can drop and regrow their tails, just done way faster. Most lizards don’t regrow brains in their missing limbs, either, so maybe it’s not the best analogy…”
“How come it dies if all the heads come off? Can’t it just regrow them anyway?”
“That’s a great question, and one still up for debate! The leading theory is that the heads grown by the hydra are clones based on one of the intact heads. They have the same scale patterns and eye colors as the one closest to it on the array, and…”
Falin had tuned out of Marcille’s rant and had tuned into Laios’, instead. She watched as Chilchuck leaned onto his elbow and listened, looking bored. Laios continued undaunted. Marcille’s slight hand came to rest on Falin’s shoulder, and she gave a reassuring squeeze.
“You don’t have to protect him from everything, you know,” Marcille whispered. Falin bonked their foreheads together and sighed.
“I just can’t watch him get hurt,” Falin said. “Never could.”
Marcille coaxed Falin out of her seat to go get breakfast with her, leaving Chilchuck and Laios shoulder-to-elbow on the bench.
“So it’s kind of like how a flower can grow back if you prune it right,” Chilchuck said, nudging his plate over to Laios, tossing him an unused fork and knife swaddled in a napkin. There was an uneaten, soggy waffle on it, but Laios wasn’t picky. He bit into his takeout budget to get their hunting supplies.
“Yeah, that works! If you cut too much off the whole thing wilts. Most flowers aren’t trying to wrestle you into pruning them, though, so you have to…”
#ficroller#dungeon meshi#chilaios#theyre mostly just standing around talking#i gotta punch this up somehow but i also like the awkward boardroom meeting vibe of this so here you go#preview
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I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 6/8
Chapter summary - Loss and gain
Aziraphale receives shocking news and realizes he doesn't want to wait any longer.
On Ao3
Rating G - 2508 words
Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter
Lake House - 2022
Aziraphale spent the entire day immersed in his work, as he had for the past few days, keeping the shop closed because he didn't want to see anyone. That evening, as every evening, he returned to the lake house, patiently awaited by Harry.
While he was feeding the rabbit, he noticed a message on his answering machine and pressed the button, surprised to hear Muriel's voice, "Aziraphale, pick up the phone, I've got something urgent to tell you. It's about your mother."
There was another message, this time from the Royal Hospital in London.
An hour and a half after hearing the two messages, Aziraphale ran into the Royal Hospital and went to the Admissions Office to speak to the first person he saw.
"Hello, I'm looking for my mother. Mrs. Fell. I'm Mr. Fell Aziraphale."
"Please wait a moment."
The young woman consulted her computer and raised her head a few seconds later before replying gently, "Yes. Mr. Fell. You're expected in Dr. Martin's general ward."
She pointed him in the right direction.
When he reached the ward, he asked for Dr. Martin and had to wait only a few minutes before a woman came up to him and said, extending her hand, "Hello, Mr. Fell, I'm Dr. Martin, the doctor in charge of your mother. Since you were the person to be contacted in case of an emergency, we sent for you."
"What happened? Is she all right?"
Dr. Martin motioned for him to follow her and continued, "She's doing relatively well. She had a fairly minor collapse, but we'll have to keep her for a day or two, waiting for the results of the tests we've run. Since you're her only family according to her file, even for something as minor as this, we had to call you. I'll take you to her room."
Muriel was waiting outside his mother's room when Aziraphale arrived with Dr. Martin. They rushed to him and pulled him into a hug.
Then keeping their hand in his, Aziraphale asked, “How is she?”
Muriel shook their head, a half smile on their lips, “You know her... I had to bring her some work, the latest reports from the finance department."
Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle softly before replying, "Of course. The last thing we'd want to do is let a little meltdown jeopardize the company."
Somewhat reassured, Aziraphale quietly entered the room and saw his mother lying on her bed, connected to monitoring equipment, reading her reports and making annotations, papers scattered about her bed. She didn't hear him right away, and when she raised her head, she lowered the report but didn't put it down.
Aziraphale said quietly, "Hello, Mother."
His mother didn't smile, just nodded and continued working on her files as if Aziraphale wasn't there.
After a while, however, she said, "I don't need you. "
Aziraphale simply replied, "I know. I'll just stay until your test results come in."
"That won't be until tomorrow morning."
Undeterred by her cold tone, he replied, "I'm not going home that late. I'm staying."
"Suit yourself."
She shrugged and went back to her reading.
The silence was deafening.
After a moment, Aziraphale picked up one of the fancy furniture magazines on the table and asked, "Do you mind if I..."
His mother waved her hand and replied, "Go ahead. If you're still interested in that sort of thing."
Aziraphale didn't look up and began flipping through the magazine.
When he lifted his head about ten minutes later, his mother was asleep. Aziraphale watched her breathe in the dimly lit room, the monitors flashing silently. He picked up the papers scattered on the bed and piled them neatly on the nightstand.
Then he sat up, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position in the hospital chair. Finding that impossible, he picked up a sheet of paper and began writing to Crowley.
I know we haven't written in a while.
But I need to. I wanted to talk to you about someone very close to me. It's... my mother.
We used to be very close.
She's very famous. You probably know her work... M. Fell, the CEO of Heavenly Home, the famous furniture brand.
I've always loved making furniture with my hands, like my father. And my mother was good at putting things together.
We decided to start Heavenly Home some time after my father passed away after a long illness. We wanted to fulfill his dream. Basically, to sell beautiful, quality furniture that anyone could afford.
A way to deal with our deep sadness.
The lake house belonged to our family.
When I was ten, my parents took us there, and I remember promising my parents that when I grew up, I'd make furniture for the house and we'd live there happily.
But my mother lost sight of my father's dream and our dreams and always wanted more.
Probably her own way of copying.
Mass production, overpriced furniture, I no longer had any joy in creating.
Every meeting turned into a war zone.
Someone had to surrender. And so I did. I resigned. I left without notice.
That's when I opened my little shop and went back to my roots. To what I loved.
Aziraphale must have fallen asleep while writing, because when he opened his eyes, he was in pain from his position in the chair.
So, seeing that his mother was still asleep, he went to the hospital cafeteria for a cup of coffee, and when he returned fifteen minutes later, he saw Dr. Martin.
"Ah, Mr. Fell, we were just going over the results with your mother. Unfortunately, she's forbidden me to talk to you about it and doesn't want you to visit her anymore."
Aziraphale gasped slightly at his mother's rejection, once again. But what could he expect?
Dr. Martin, however, seeing his distress, seemed to take pity on him and said gently, "I'm not at liberty to go into details, but unfortunately you'll have to prepare for the worst."
Aziraphale's heart leapt in his chest, and with a tight throat he asked, "How long?"
Dr. Martin put a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "Any time. I'm sorry."
Aziraphale left the hospital dazed and returned to the lake house.
As soon as he arrived, he fed Harry, sat down in his chair, and continued the letter to Crowley.
It was his only source of comfort at the moment.
The only way he could find to ease his pain.
Crowley's apartment - 2024
Crowley, dressed casually with Harry by his side, sat on his sofa reading Aziraphale's letter. He was deeply moved by the way Aziraphale had opened up to him.
His heart wept at the sadness he felt through the other man's words. He clearly loved his mother deeply, despite their differences.
Once again, Crowley was frustrated by the barrier of years that separated them. He wanted so much to be with Aziraphale, to support him. He sighed as he continued to read the letter.
I don't know what I was expecting.
Part of me thought that given her condition I would get more than a "she doesn't want to see you anymore".
But of course it doesn't work that way. When I left HH, I was rejecting everything she stood for.
That's how she saw it.
She had put the house up for sale to reject everything that connected her to my father, I think, or rather to the pain of his loss.
I think the fact that I bought the house cemented our disagreement for her, and it's too late to change things now.
One thing's for sure, if I was really hoping for a tearful little bedside chat, I'm as stupid as she thinks I am.
I can't change it, even if it hurts.
I feel like I've poured my little heart out here. I apologize for that.
Thank you for reading.
I want to tell you things I've never told anyone before.
Things I didn't know myself until I wrote them down.
Maybe that's the strangest part of all this. I feel deep down that you're the only person in the world who can understand me and accept what I'm feeling.
Thank you for being here.
Love, Aziraphale.
Crowley lingered over the letter, rereading it several times, especially the last word, Love.
He patted Harry's head thoughtfully.
He had so many questions.
Love, Aziraphale.
Was it superficial? Just a formula at the end of a letter? An affectionate word. Yet Crowley had the impression that the word was quite deliberate.
Aziraphale seemed to be the kind of person who knew exactly what he was saying.
For whom every single word was important.
The next question was if Crowley felt the same way.
Crowley didn't have to think; he knew what he felt.
The question that remained was, did they have a future?
Lake House - 2022
Harry trotted over to Aziraphale's bed.
Aziraphale was lying there, unable to sleep, but it was too early to get up. He wanted to pick up the phone, but he resisted.
Crowley's apartment - 2024
Crowley couldn't sleep, something had been bothering him since he'd read Aziraphale's letter.
He got up and went to his computer to look up something about the antiquarian's mother.
Two minutes later, he stormed out of his apartment and headed for the lake house.
Lake House - 2022
After getting ready for work, Aziraphale left his house and went to the Beetle.
Lake House - 2024
Crowley slammed on the brakes and ran to the mailbox. He slipped a piece of paper into it and raised the flag with a sharp motion.
Lake House - 2022
Aziraphale drove away from the house, unaware of the flag going up behind him. A few minutes later, his phone on the passenger seat began to ring.
He looked down and saw that it was Dr. Martin.
He pulled over to the side of the road and answered the call with a lump in his throat.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Fell, this is Dr. Martin. I'm afraid I have some difficult news."
A few minutes later, dazed, he pulled up in front of his house. As he got out of the car, he saw that the flag had been raised.
He opened it, picked up the note, read it, then let his arm fall back, the paper flying off before landing farther away.
You must return to the hospital immediately!
Your mother died on XX/XX/22
A few days later, Aziraphale stood in the back of the church as the pastor preached to a crowd that Aziraphale knew was there more for his mother's fame than their connection to her.
He didn't listen to the sermon and, clutching Crowley's last letter in his pocket, reflected on what he had written, taking comfort in the other man's words.
Aziraphale, I'm so sorry about your mom.
Though every pain is different, I know what it's like to lose the little family we have left.
I knew I had to at least try to warn you.
I thought I could do it in time.
I hoped we could change what's happened.
I was wrong.
I guess these things can't be changed.
What I do know is that the shock is still fresh for me, even though it happened two years ago, so I can't imagine what it must be like for you.
These things happen... sometimes. I know all about it.
I was sitting on a bench at noon in Saint James Park, near the intersection of Spur Road and Birdcage Walk.
And something happened. I won't bore you with the details, but it was hard. Not like what you're going through, but it upset me a lot.
And that day a friend of mine gave me some good advice.
She told me to go somewhere that would bring me peace.
And that's what I did.
I went to the lake house.
And that was the day I got your first letter.
It's a place we both love, a place that means so much to both of us, I hope you can find some comfort in it.
And I hope that whatever kept you and your mother apart will eventually seem less important and perhaps, in time, disappear.
Yours, Crowley.
With Crowley's words echoing in his head, Aziraphale was eager to get to the house, to seek and perhaps find the comfort Crowley spoke of.
When he arrived, he saw the flag raised. He opened the mailbox and took out not a note, but a book.
As he turned it over and read the title, his heart skipped a beat.
The past shapes the present
by Mr Fell, CEO of Heavenly Home
He returned to the house and, sitting in his chair, opened the book and first saw a small note in Crowley's hand.
The book won't be out for another year. I mean in your time. Or two, so don't show it to anyone. But I thought you should see it.
Aziraphale turned the first page and couldn't stop the tears flowing from the very first words.
To my son, Aziraphale.
This is the story of a dream.
The story of a mother and a son bound by an ideal.
But like all true stories, it doesn't always end well.
They chose different paths.
They drifted apart and never found each other again.
But without the presence of one in the life of the other, neither would have become what they are.
The story of two lives, the story of two successes, the story of two paths.
Below the text was a photo of him and his parents in front of the lake house, which had not yet been built.
He continued to flip through the book, his eyes blurred with tears, and felt like he was looking through pieces of his life.
Photos of HH's creation, of Aziraphale's workshop, of their first offices.
The day they opened.
Then the various collections of furniture over the years, from the first designed by Aziraphale to the latest, so different. Created after his departure.
Photos of the rise of HH.
Photos taken after Aziraphale's time.
Until the last photo that made him gasp when he saw it.
It was the front of his shop.
A single sentence below.
We've taken different paths, our views have diverged, but you'll always be my son. The one I'm proud of.
Aziraphale cried for a long time for his mother, for the lost years, for what might have been. Then, when the tears had dried, he closed the book and placed it carefully on the shelf. His hand lingered on the title for a moment.
The past shapes the present
Then, with a determined look, he picked up his old sketchbook, sat down in front of the house, and began to draw.
Crowley's apartment - 2024
Crowley, looking puzzled, looked at a sketch of the lake house.
At the bottom of the house, written in charcoal, could be read:
I WANT TO MEET YOU!
FOR REAL THIS TIME!
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
#good omens#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#ineffable boyfriends#aziraphale#crowley#good omens fanfiction#aziraphale x crowley#crowley x aziraphale#human au#alternate universe
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maybe tumblr will listen if i speak its language: remember in 2020 when we all had to sit down and realize that everyone has internalized racism? that everyone has prejudices even if they don't realize it? being antisemitic is more than sitting around wearing a swastika saying you want jews to die. take a look inside yourself and you'll find antisemitism there, too. it's time to address it.
#jewish#jumblr#antisemitism#anyone arguing otherwise will be immediately blocked#this is not a discussion post#judaism#if you're spreading blood libel#if you're lying about what is happening in the news#if you're spreading stories that have been proven false#if you think (((israel))) controls the news#if you think only israel has done wrong#if you think zionists are evil and zionism is wrong#if you still think israel bombed that hospital even after qatari backed al jazeera retracted the article#if you think israel should be destroyed#if you think october 7th was justified in anyway#if any of this questions made you angry#if you saw this post and got mad#if you saw this post and thought ‘what about’…#if you did any of the above congratulations: you’ve got some antisemitism in you#time to start unpacking it
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Meeting A Nosy Homophobic Neighbor.
Anderson: "as you can see, we are Seras' two dads."
Neighbor: *uncomfortably*
"Wonderful. I'm sure our neighbourhood is quite proud of the acceptance of family structures that have one time-"
Anderson: "Sorry can I stop you there? You need to know that we are very gay for each other."
Alucard: "completely gay. We are like two French trombones."
Anderson: "This guy? I ream him nightly."
Alucard: "And I'm always sucking him off. Our butler's like 'cooome! It's dinner! Stop sucking off your gay husband!" 🎶
Anderson: "ehehe... which is amusing, because I am dinner. And I just carry on reaming him... Sexually. You must understand that."
#I like imagining them starting a new life somewhere but then shit like this happens because people like to fuck around and find out#That's how it is when you're a main character lol#Also Walter is out of the picture he's lying about having a butler lol#Alexander Anderson#Alucard#Seras Victoria#Integra hellsing#Hellsing#Hellsing Ultimate#Hellsing abridged#What we do in the shadows#Laslo cravensworth#Nandor#Andercard
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never okay about hunter owl house
#sometimes i think about how long he spent in the emperor's coven#how long he spent alone in that tower#believing in belos and his purpose#the justifications he must have told himself when belos finally showed his true colors and gave him that scar#no that's not his uncle. not really.#he's... he's in pain. he's...he believes in me that's why he's disappointed#he knows i can do better#(i can't fail him. i can't fail him. not again.)#i think about how darius watched and let it happen because he had to but also because it hurt#to see his mentor's face following that monster so blindly#maybe some part of him thought the new guard deserved it#some small ugly part of him.#it doesn't win in the end because. that's not darius. not really.#but maybe it was for a moment. maybe he feels guilty sometimes. maybe that's why he had to change his mind.#sometimes i think about how hunter owl house ran away at the end of hollow mind#and how it took weeks of being away from belos to muster the courage of saying /you're lying/#how it took months of being in ANOTHER WORLD to muster the courage to say /he was wrong/#months before he could admit he never wanted what belos gave him#what belos forced him through#the golden guard 'i liked the mazes and the traps'#to hunter 'i want to learn wild magic i want to play flyerderby with my friends'#golden guard who would willingly give his life to protect belos vs hunter who tried to give his life to stop him#wahhhh#(explodes about it)#the code word is oreo
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HELL BENT — RYOMEN SUKUNA
✧･ﾟ The Incubus King finally claims his intended.
( TW ) f!reader, incubus king!Sukuna, major size difference (Sukuna’s 8ft tall!), harem, group sex, fingering, cunnilingus, biting, rough sex, bleeding, forked tongues, cervix fucking, mating bonds, reader goes in some type of ‘heat’, explicit content.
word count - > 1.5k
author's note: PLS don’t take this seriously Idek what this is!! unedited + I'm trying a new writing style
Can’t stop thinking about Incubus king!Sukuna who finally finds his intended after centuries of looking. Who finds her in a place he never thought to check, the human realm. Who he kidnaps and brings down to his realm, telling you how you are to be his queen and rule his subjects alongside him. You have a mental breakdown your first week. The change of scenery, coming to terms that this is real, the differences between you and Sukuna’s species he calls Incubus. You’ve heard of them before, but you didn't think they were real—who did? They’re eight feet tall, winged creatures who liked to fuck 24/7. Half of them roam around naked and you can’t turn a hallway without catching two or more in sexual activities. So, hearing that you're some type of ‘mate’ to the king of the creatures? You think you’re dreaming. Sukuna brings you food every day and talks about how the mating bond has been activated now. How the several next week's you’re going to be restless until he ruts and claims you.
You scream and cry how this is his fault. He leans over the buffet of food and smacks your thigh with a grumble. You refuse to speak to him for the rest of the night even when he undresses and washes you. Making crude comments like how he can’t wait to breed your human body full of his offsprings. Sukana who doesn’t have the time for your refusal to talk to him for he has a kingdom to run, so he drops you off to a group of naked, pierced women who he calls his harem. He gently pushes you into one of the tall women before telling her to take care of you or else.
You can’t find it in your to be jealous of the women for being his ‘harem.’ You don’t even like Sukuna right now and the women, they’re so kind and mature that you would much rather spend your days lazing around with them than sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he laughs at his people who come to him with misfortunes. His harem teaches you all about their lands, how sex isn’t taboo instead something they need just like oxygen is to humans. How when they fuck, they release some type of energy that’s built up in their body that causes their kind to go insane and terrorize the human realm.
Sukuna’s harem who are utterly obsessed with how small you are compared to them. They used to spend their days lying around on rich cushions and blankets waiting for Sukuna but even they got bored of him—if it were up to them, they’d lock him in their room and never let him out. His harem who was supposed to be teaching you more about their king but instead chose to spend their days lazily eating you out with their long-forked tongues and fucking you dumb with their big fingers. They make you suckle their breasts and grind on their faces. They’re so gentle after, hissing at each other when one speaks too loudly after you had fallen asleep, washing your body clean, wrapping you in the softest blankets to carry you back over to your room with Sukuna. Some days they happen to catch Sukuna in his room, and they smirk and giggle when they see his jealous face. They take it as the highest compliment their queen has decided to lie with them before the king.
Incubus king!Sukuna who feels the mating bond grow stronger with every second you're in his castle. He feels himself shifting. He unable to stay away for long periods of time. He forces you to bathe with him before making you sit on his throne with him while he talks to irrelevant people, his hard cock jumping every time you move. You want to get away, moaning and grumbling how his you want to go play with his harem, it’s uncomfortable sitting on muscular thighs for hours while listening to him talk in several languages you don’t understand to people you don’t know. Sukuna who hisses and grumbles at you before going back to his subjects who kneel at the bottom of his obsidian throne.
Throughout the week you can’t help but get hornier and hornier until your unable to walk without liquids dripping down your thighs and wetting your skirts. Despite Sukuna's harem playing with you can’t help but plead and cry for him. You barely know the man but your body aches for him, for his cock, his bond. Sukuna who finally comes to see you one day. Who picks you up to set you up top of the cushions so you can watch him fuck his harem. He does everything he could think to the women, he wants to see what makes you twitch and ache and cry. By the time he’s done—hours later—you’re in a puddle of slick panting and crying how you want him. He doesn’t take you though, he can smell that you aren’t ready for him just yet, and he can’t risk injuring his mate who he’s searched for centuries. He won’t allow himself to bring you any harm, so he just holds you in his lap and makes his harem play with you until you pass out.
Sukuna whose balls deep in one of his women when he sniffs that air and smells the scent change in you. The women he’s fucking laughs when he yanks himself out of her and goes to you. He picks you up from the drenched cushion you're sitting on. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob and the feeling of his body. You try to wrap your legs around his huge frame but you’re too tired, so they just hang as he walks you back to your room, your thighs rubbing against his cock. Sukuna lays you down on the huge bed before ripping your silky dress and ding his head in between your legs. He brings you to several orgasm, but his mouth and forked tongue isn't what you want. You want his cock. You want him to fuck you pregnant while he bites you and claims you as his. You scream and kick and pull and at the pair of horns on top his head, but he just shushes you before going back to eating you out.
Sukuna finally deems you ready to take his cock but before he kisses and drags his teeth all over your body. He suckles at your breast, commenting on how you’ll be feeding him with said breasts soon. You cry out when he finally turns you ass up. You don’t even think about how much bigger he is than you, how his cock might not fit inside. Sukuna pushes your head into the blankets, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it over your pussy. You scream at him, but he ignores you enjoying the sight of your pussy against his too big cock. When he finally pushes into you scream into the pillow. You scream for more, for him to slow down, for him to breed you, for him to fuck you harder, for him to stop and let you catch a break. He’s too out of it to listen. He never knew what it would feel like to claim a mate but this? If he had any doubt the little human underneath his wasn’t his, he didn’t now. He finally felt whole. He felt your essence flowing into him, making him stronger, more aware, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel your emotions and hear your thoughts. He fucked your impossibly harder.
Sukuna leans down and whispers for you to open, and let him in. You don’t understand what he's talking about until his cock shoots some warm liquids and you feel your cervix open. It hurts so good when he pushes deeper into you. You orgasm again before he releases his seed into you. The tension leaves your body at the feeling of his seed rushing to your womb. You’re about to succumb to the sleepiness before Sukuna jolts you awake saying this is just the beginning.
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna scenarios#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sukuna#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#nanami x you#nanami smut
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#i looooooooooove working with snarky coworkers with zero listening comprehension#/sarc#*explains something that bothers them*#me: I guess I have more sympathy for x person because that's usually what I do and the trouble I find myself in#them: and I don't have a problem with that! I just have a problem when *explains exactly what I usually do and coworker was //just saying//#that she //does// have a problem with#me: *internally* sooooooo you're lying and you //do// have a problem with it#them: *proceeds to fixate on this case that frustrates them and brings it up every ten minutes*#COWORKER I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU#I AM NOT MAGICALLY PART OF SOME IN CROWD THAT IS EXEMPT FROM YOUR CONTEMPT BECAUSE I WORK WITH YOU#THE OPPOSITE SHOULD BE HAPPENING AND YOU SHOULD CARE MORE ABOUT THEM AND THEIR PROBLEMS BECAUSE I STRUGGLE WITH THE SAME SHIT#FUUUUCCKKKKKKKKKJ#just *buries head in sand* I wanna go home already#this is why I prefer working boss instead of coworker#coworker has 0 critical thinking skills I swear
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♪ WEST COAST. (💌)
– next part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.
tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon
Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself.
Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.
"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?"
"My enemies' sweat and tears."
(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)
Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!
He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable.
Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.
"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.
"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"
Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."
It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.
It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.
"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.
"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.
Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?
Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.
When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.
divider by @cafekitsune !
#౨ৎ simon !#୨୧ audi's works !#SUPER RUSHED but i wanted this out asap!!#might rewrite in the future#or add a new part#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost#cod x you#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare
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espresso - lando norris
summary: y/n is a famous singer who also happens to be a massive f1 fan. when she mentions a liking for a certain driver, it's only fate that he tries everything in his power to get her attention.
a/n: no face claim! the outcomes/order of races are altered to fit the story, it's just a fun time!!
liked by oliviarodrigo, oneruel, pedri, and 1, 376, 227 others
ynusername my new interview with wired is out now!
user64973 Stop you're gorgeous
user89322 do i wanna be her or be with her??
user09384 so who r u crushing on huh
ynusername it's a seeeecret 🤫
user44172 This entire vid is so chaotic omfg
user03638 Please let y/n enter her wag era
liked by user55736, user89842, user73903, and 10, 652 others
user33973 HELLO???? LANDO LITERALLY LIKED THIS TWEET I'M CRYING
user98301 brother personally knows who y/n's next bf should be
user40440 HAHA NO LITERALLY
user34593 God please let this be lando shooting his shot after watching y/n's recent interview
user43982 NO WAIT UR SO FR BECAUSE SHE LITERALLY MENTIONED LIKING AN F1 DRIVER WHAT IF IT'S HIM??
user12871 lando and y/n 🙏🙏
view ynusername's story...
liked by oscarpiastri, lorde, gavi, and 782, 774 others
ynusername what a race! lovely to see you again @ oscarpiastri, maybe aim for a podium next time though?
oscarpiastri I'd like to see you try in a f1 car
user49949 Wait is oscar the guy y/n was talking abt in that vid?
user53004 i hope not, i love him and lily
user20833 Okay so did y/n and lando interract or not? 😭
user61221 hot girls support mclaren (confirmed!)
liked by ynusername
user89483 y/n slowly integrating herself in the f1 scene, we see u girl
liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, ynusername, and 2, 459, 383 others
landonorris A lot to learn from this weekend, but we keep pushing. Also great to meet a lot of new faces and the incredible fans🧡
user58273 SORRY WHAT THAT SECOND PHOTO...
user89894 is the new face y/n perhaps??
mclaren Great weekend Lando!
liked by landonorris
user92702 I genuinely tweak whenever u post bc u look so fine
user53982 not y/n liking this post 😭
user66359 AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN FOLLOW HIM
user98123 miss girl is stalking her crush i bet
user17263 please let this year be your year
user52209 Did anyone see his response to that post race interview?
user28732 YES AND HOW HE HAS HIS EYE ON SUM1
user87229 oh he trynna thirst trap (y/n)
liked by landonorris
liked by lilyzneimer, oliviarodrigo, pedri, and 334, 938 others
ynusername remember that one bitch ass ex I had? yeah well I wrote another song about him! 'feather' is yours now, but best enjoyed when you have an ugly, cheating, lying dick of an ex to think about. have fun with this one!! 😘
lilyzneimer STOP I'M ACTUALLY DYING I WAS NOT EXPECTING OSCAR OMG I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING
liked by ynusername
user82983 i was like wow normal post! and then boom. oscar.
oscarpiastri Okay that seems a little mean
lilyzneimer already on repeat
oscarpiastri Um excuse me???? Did you read the caption...
user68297 NEW Y/N MUSIC YESYESYES
user26321 omfg i've been waiting for an angry y/n song
user72639 this sounds really familiar?? song of the summer maybe?
ynusername ahhhh thank you bb
view landonorris's story...
liked by user58273, user98004, user63874, and 10, 376 others
user44938 Y/N papped in Monte Carlo today! Rumours are circulating that she was visiting F1's starboy Lando Norris, however there is no official confirmation.
user99812 ohhh y/n we see you
user89283 Okay everyone shut up abt lando, let's take a moment to appreciate y/n's beauty omf she's gorg
user23294 I SECOND THIS !!
user12834 hmm i wonder why she's in monaco...
user48463 Y/N u ain't slick 😭
user35273 she saw lando's story and ran straight to him
user16282 "how far u go for a sneaky link? I'd fly"
user52883 I know damn well she ain't in monaco for a holiday
liked by landonorris, gracieabrams, laufey, and 483, 995 others
ynusername it's exactly like selena gomez's 2011 film
user73948 I KNOW LANDO'S HOODIE WHEN I SEE IT
user63762 ur the genuine it girl
lilyzneimer Monte Carlo reference, I love it
liked by ynusername
user11928 landoooo
landonorris oooooo
user40948 oh hey lando
user29830 Fancy seeing you here
user73984 He wants her so bad
oscarpiastri I think I've seen that hoodie before
ynusername hmm i wonder where 🤷♀️
user49283 girl saw his story and flew out IMMEDIATELY
user53984 y/n l/n wag era loading 😏😏
user92874 So pretty
liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, mclaren, and 3, 469, 848 others
landonorris Calm before the storm #raceweek
charlesleclerc Good to see you with some company
user76483 CHARLES HASFGUEH
ynusername omg invite me next time
user42761 Girl bfr we know where u were at
user52739 THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE
user19820 y/n and lando are a match made in heaven
user82637 I wonder who you were hanging out with 🤔
oscarpiastri Wow I feel like I've seen that girl before
ynusername me too
user61542 not lando soft launching y/n as if we don't know it's her
user82736 I mean technically we don't
user19823 @ user82736 No I think it is confirmed, she was heard on his twitch stream the other day
liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, danielricciardo, and 1, 254, 982 others
mclaren Our drivers and their partners after qualifying! Lando and Oscar will begin P4 and P5 respectively in Monte Carlo 🧡🤍
user82638 AND THEIR PARTNERS??? Y/N AND LANDO?
user52761 admin really said if they won't confirm it, I will
liked by mclaren
user52839 Please lando and y/n are adorable
user82636 lily & oscar >>>
user48273 Sooooo they official...?
user27163 guys stop with this y/n x lando madness, i need a double mclaren podium
user82638 y/n really manifested her wag era huh
liked by ynusername, logansargeant, lilymunhe, and 3, 716, 372 others
landonorris Monaco '24. Thank you to everyone who came out, and showed me support this weekend. I promise to be better next race.
tagged: oscarpiastri & ynusername
ynusername my racer 🧡🏎️
user62538 HELLO?
user82776 i'm gonna be sick
mclaren Papaya boys!
liked by landonorris
user72538 Y/N is so beautiful I can't even
user16529 HIS EYES
user52863 him hard launching y/n >>>>
user98276 This is MY victoria and david
ynusername omg we're definitely not as cool as them
user41752 i won't get over this ever
liked by landonorris, phoebebridgers, mclaren, and 967, 837 others
ynusername i think i need to buy more orange clothes
landonorris I've already offered up half my closet to her...
landonorris nice shirt though 😏
user62538 oh i'm living for their hard launch
lilyzneimer Welcome to the team!!
user22817 STOP THIS IS ADORABLE PLS WE NEED Y/N AND LILY CONTENT IMMEDIATELY
mclaren Our favourite pop star
liked by ynusername 🌟
user52763 Y/N THE WAG YESSSSSS
oscarpiastri It's actually papaya
ynusername okay sassy man apocalypse
lilyzneimer @ ynusername feed him to the zombies
liked by oliviarodrigo, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 583, 872 others
ynusername oh and btw, my new song espresso is out and it's a @ landonorris certified 'banger'. his words not mine. listen on all platforms now!!
landonorris She's working late cause she's a singerrr
ynusername haiii
user72637 y/n really walked in and said that she's the best lando ever had and ever will have
landonorris I mean it's true sooo
user62537 Okay lando I didn't know u had game like dat
lilyzneimer oh I love you
ynusername LILYYYYYYY i love u so much
oscarpiastri I think our gfs are gfs... @ landonorris
view landonorris's story...
please let me know if you guys liked this! i love doing lando fics so much. as always, my reqs are open so feel free to drop suggestions!!
here’s a cute oscar smau i just wrote
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando#lando norris x#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#formula 1#ln4#mclaren f1#smau#lando norris f#lando norris f1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 2024#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x oc#f1 x#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#mclaren racing#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#quadrant
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Captain John Price • broken.
PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.
WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)
TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.
"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"
As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.
"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."
"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.
Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.
"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”
"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."
Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.
"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.
All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"
Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."
"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."
You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.
Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.
"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.
Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"
"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."
"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"
At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.
And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.
"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.
Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.
"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."
Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about.
"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."
"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"
"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."
Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.
"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."
He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.
Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.
Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."
Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.
Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."
"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."
You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.
"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"
Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.
You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"
"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."
Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.
Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."
There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.
Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.
He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.
"It's...um..."
Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.
"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”
Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.
"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."
You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."
"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."
Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.
"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."
John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.
"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."
Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.
You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"
Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.
You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."
Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.
"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."
You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.
"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."
You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.
"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."
"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"
Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"
"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”
Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.
However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.
There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.
"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."
Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.
"Broken." You whispered.
Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.
"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."
Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.
Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”
It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.
"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."
You nearly whimpered. "Please."
Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.
You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.
"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."
A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.
"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."
"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."
"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."
"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."
Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.
Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."
There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.
"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."
He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.
"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."
Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.
Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."
"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."
You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"
His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.
"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."
"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."
Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.
"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."
He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.
"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."
Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.
"Oh—fuck-"
You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.
"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."
"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"
It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.
Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.
"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."
Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—
"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"
His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"
You gasped. "I’m-"
"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”
“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“
“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”
A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”
Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.
"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."
Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”
"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."
Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”
"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."
"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”
"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."
“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”
And you, you were his eager, willing prey.
"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."
Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.
"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."
"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.
"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."
A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.
"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."
"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."
His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.
He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”
There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.
"Oh—fuck-"
You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.
"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"
"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."
"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."
And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.
"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"
Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.
"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."
Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.
Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"
Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.
"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."
"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"
"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."
"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"
Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.
Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."
"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."
Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.
"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."
He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.
Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.
With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.
You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.
Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"
You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."
Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.
"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."
Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"
"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."
"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”
Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”
You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”
“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”
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but they don't care about the burnout. everyone is burnt out, they tell me. who isn't burnt out!
the good news is they don't say depression is a choice as much anymore, but the symptoms for burn out and depression are so hand-in-hand that they are mirror images of each other. but depression is serious. you're not depressed, you're just whiny. they barely change the script - don't be lazy! burn out is for people with real problems. burn out can be resolved with some fun candles and a day off work. burn out only happens in adults - no kid can be burnt out, after all; they've barely even had a life to live!
do you have a roof over your head and a steady job? you're not burnt out. so what if every night you wake up with a panic attack frothing inside your chest. you're lucky your problems are small. get back into plants or into yoga. shut up about it.
rich people get burnt out and go to fancy places. they get burnt out in their fancy offices with their real-people problems. they get burnt out and hire an assistant to help them never burn out again. you don't have the money to burn out. you don't have the two weeks to recover in a local spa. the job you come back to will still be stressful and hard.
you find yourself often wondering - does nobody remember about the pandemic? it seems almost like a joke or a punchline. being burnt-out was okay "during" the pandemic. now that people are back to ignoring covid, burnout is just-an-excuse again.
you google how to know if it's seasonal affective disorder or burnout. you google how to know if it's anxiety or it's burnout from working.
you google how to know if my depression is back or i'm burning out badly.
coming back from burnout just leaves you covered in ashes, not new growth. you struggle to get back basics, and then - you're just supposed to get back up and keep going. every day the amount of tasks you are able to do seems to dwindle even further - where does the time go? why is everything moving so-fast-and-yet-so-slow?
my therapist and i were talking about how many people had latent mental illnesses that were triggered by the pandemic. how depression can be environmental and situational. i am annoyingly logic-driven about my own recovery - i like to be sure i'm working on the "right" thing. i tell her i feel like i'm lying. that it just might be burnout, and i need to stop complaining. she asks me what words come to mind when i think of burning.
oh, i guess i see.
we casually ignore the violence of being left empty.
#employers for 2 weeks during the pandemic: we know it's gonna be so so hard and we're here for you#week 3 day 1: now that we have been nice to you fucking get over it you weakling#do not worry this is not me romantically recalling the ''we're here for u'' overhead announcements#this is the opposite#side note#the new options to post????????? huh#gonna go write something VERY gay just to test it#(eventually. i skipped my meds by accident today so im nowhere)
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What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k
Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy.
"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"
"Do you know why Y/N's upset?"
"You don't? You're the expert."
Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question.
"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test."
"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums."
"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–"
"Lovely?"
"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."
Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him.
"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully.
Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done.
"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did."
"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up."
Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't."
Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."
Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down.
"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you answer my texts?"
He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you."
You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."
"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…"
Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope.
"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.
"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth.
"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose."
"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine."
Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather."
The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing.
You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress."
You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years.
It only feels like years.
When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern.
"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath.
"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault."
"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone."
"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this."
"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain."
"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly.
Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you."
"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."
Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips.
"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips.
"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart."
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❝𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎❞
𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
manipulative!geto ✘ fem!reader
summary: geto is one of your innocent friends, what happens when you get stuck in a cabin with him alone since your boyfriend gojo can't make it?, will he stay so innocent?
warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, cabin sex, perv!geto, fingering, squirting, nastiness, geto gets what he wants, gojo is your boyfriend, manipulation, obsession.
today is the day. today is the day geto will get what he wants. today is the day geto will get what he dreamed of. today is the day geto gets to live his little nasty fantasy. today is the day geto will finally get to feel your soft, plump body against his- that's if, if only if everything goes according to his plan, and be demanded getos plans will always work.
"ah here you are suguru!" you slowly wave your hand at geto as he makes his way toward your cabin, the cabin where you and gojo have been living for the past few months, he would be lying if he said he isn't jealous of his dear childhood friend. keeping you all to himself. gojo and geto have always shared everything, even the stupid childish dream about living without curses- they both shared it, so what about you? why is saturo so selfish that he can't share you with him?.
part of geto doesn't blame his friend because if he had you. he would split the ocean in half before giving you to anyone.
geto smiles softly at you. waving back, he smiles even wider once he sees the way you're hopping from leg to leg- clearly just as excited as he is to meet you.
"careful y/n don't want you hurting yourself on my watch." he speaks out once he's in a close distance to get a good look at the gorgeous goddess in front of him, cheeks flushed from hopping around, grinning from ear to ear, hair slightly messy because of the cold breeze that's hitting both of you.
you playfully role your eyes "don't worry suguru I'm a grown woman, of course i wouldn't hurt myself in such a silly way like you do." getos cheeks flush remembering the embarrassing moments of him being clumsy around you.
"aw your ears are getting red no need to be embarrassed geto" you say while gently rubbing his ear between your finger tips- trying to rub his redness away. getos breath hitch this little act of yours, you have no idea- no idea what you do to your so called "sweet" suguru.
"im not embarrassed, it's just because it's cold outside" geto mumbles, you let out a little mhm while you move your hand away folding them close to your body, making your breast slightly peark up."if you so say, now get inside don't want you catching a cold on my watch" you say teasingly micking him- now it's his turn to roll his eyes at you.
both of you make it inside the warm cabin, it wasn't to small or to big, it was just enough the perfect size for two new happy couple. it was the perfect size to cuddle and fuck in, if geto was the one with you here- he would have fucked you in every inch of this cabin, print his cock in you everywhere, claim you in every inch so everytime he isn't here, you would remember the way he fucked you in every corner- but today there isn't ifs because he's gonna make it happen, after all he's geto.
you happily sip the last bit of the soup geto has made for both you.
"I didn't know you were a chef suguru- I guess every day the huge brain of yours learn something new". geto blushes a little before snorting at your little comment about his brain "it's nothing special, it's just a soup recipe I learned from my grandpa, that he used to make when I was sick" he says while staring at the way you happily rub at your cute little tummy, that he has noticed grew a little since the last time he saw you- it's not that he minds oh no it makes him more eager to touch you- to squeeze your little stomach while he eats you out, holding you in place by your tummy.
"still it made both of me and my baby happy" you say cheekly not realizing what you just said till geto drops his spoon.
"y... your baby?" geto repeats making sure he heard you right, making you realize what you just said- your eyes widen and you stand up quickly making the chair you were sat on fall with a thud.
"NO- oh god no im not pregnant or anything!" you hurriedly say as if geto thinking your pregnant is your hugest fear, he stare at you confused.
"then why did you-" he was cut off by you "it's just me and gojo been acting as if im pregnant and saying cheesy stuff-" you say as if that makes any sense "I don't know why but it's been gojos new thing to act as if im pregnant so it just rubbed off on me I guess" you mumble hoping the big guy would understand what you mean- you finally got the courage to look up at him, and it catches you off surprise what you see- you have never seen geto with such a dark expression on his face, he was clenching his hand into a fist under the table. you were not sure what to say.
so that's what gojo been up to huh. breeding his lovely y/n. trapping you so he won't be able to have you. the thought of that made geto fume in rage, how many times have gojo fucked you and breed you full with his cum? how many times have gojo planted his seed inside of you pretending to impregnate you? geto won't let this happen, and tonight he will make sure of it. by marking his seed inside of you before gojo gets to steal that from him.
"it's.. it's fine it just got me off guard that you guys would have kept something as big as you being pregnant from me" geto stares at you with sad eyes- he has to keep the innocent act till he gets what he wants, he wasn't entirely lying. it would make him really upset if you guys kept such thing hidden from him.
"no no no no suguru- you know you would be the first person we would tell if that ever happens right?" you say panickly "yea I know".
soon after the sun has disappeared and a gloomy dark weather has appeared- you had always since childhood hated rain and thunder, of course geto knew that- this is why he's here today. this is why he made a specific plan to be here at this time, at this weather, and mostly at a time where gojo wouldn't be around.
you stare at the window as your hear the soft drops of rain starting to fall- you frown "saturo won't make it today with such weather" you worriedly say and of course geto knew that I mean after all it was part of his plan-"yea looks like it".
loud thunder and heavy rain sounds fill the room. under the darkness of this room it lights up each time. after every thunder to, show a glimpse of you and geto laying together with only 1 blanket. 1 pillow. 1 bed.
"im sorry geto-its just... you know i can't handle the thunder" you softly whipser, shuffling next to him. of course again geto knew that, he knew that you would get scared to be alone in your room, he knew that you'd come to him seeking for comfort, and he knew he would give you that with no hesitation.
"it's alright. it's just like back when we were kids right?" geto mumbles shifting to turn around and look at your curled up back shivering from discomfort of the loud thunder. he slowly stretch his arms towards you. fingers itching to feel the warmth of you, once he reachs you- you stiff unsure how to feel about that "geto-" you were cut off by him shushing you gently while hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.
"shhhh it's okay. im here everything is going to be okay" he softly rock you against his chest-pressing your whole body warmth against his and god it felt so good to have you this close. finally he thought while pressing his nose against your hair- taking a deep breath of the cherry smell of your hair. finally he thought again. finally he can have you while slowly trailing his nose against your ear going lower and lower. finally he thought once more. finally he can get to mark his sweet little y/n.
"geto-" you breath out once more, feeling your childhood friend press his front against you- gently sucking your earlobe in his mouth, coating it with his warm spit.
"what are you doing-" you gently tug, trying to escape his grasp- not realizing you accidentally rubbed your ass on his already ragging hard on. geto hiss, realising your now spit-covered earlobe from his mouth "careful- don't want me cumming in my pants just yet". you gasp you have never thought such a dirty words would come out of your dark haired innocent friend.
a loud thunder seems to snap you out to reality, you flinch at how loud it was- you couldn't even fully react because geto was already shushing you and gently rubbing your belly. "shhh it's okay baby I know, I know just let me take care of this okay hm? let me make you forget about this- you don't have to do anything just lay close to me while I make you feel so so so good, that you won't have to worry about the silly little thunder hm?"
you were confused, scared, shakey about what's happening this is why you hated rainy days because they always make you go blank- weak can't do anything, you didn't even realize that you were crying until you felt geto licking away a tear that dropped from your eye. his tongue felt warm and wet against your cold cheek.
"aw my little baby- don't cry I will take care of you, don't worry" he gently whispered still soothing your belly the only difference is that his hands are now under your shirt- making skin to skin contact with it. his hand felt so warm and comforting that you simply just sniffle and node to scared and confused to do anything else.
"such a good girl for me" geto mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.
he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.
he starts sucking on your delicate neck drung off the smell of you, as he rubes gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.
he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.
he suddenly flips you into your back- him on top of you, earning a gasp out of you- you finally caught a look at him. he didn't look like the sweet geto you knew, he looked like an animal waiting to rut, his hair is messy, cheeks flushed, drool leaving his mouth and coating his puffy red lips. you couldn't help your gaze going down- he was huge who knew geto could hold such a weapon between his legs.
Impatiencly he slides your shorts and underwear off- he couldn't wait more to take a look at the sweet puffy pussy of yours. once it was free he left out a long groan- head dropping to take a closer look while hooking your legs around his shoulder.
"fuck y/n- look what the sight of your wet pussy do to me" he shakily says palming his dick out of his boxers. he was indeed huge, the long distance between the darkish hair around his base and the top but what caught your attention is the hot pink head and the white percum leaking out of it. it was a breathtaking sight you couldn't deny.
geto is shaking- he doesn't know why. is he shaking from excitement. is he shaking from how nasty he is. is he shaking because he knows it's fucked up or is he shaking because he can't wait to eat the wet creamy pussy in front of him- he doesn't waste any more time and dig right into his meal.
the thunder is long gone. it stopped and the only sound left in this room was the wet, sucking and licking sounds your pussy is geto slowly raise his head, you thought he was finished but the way he holds your eyes tells you something different- he maintain eye contact while slowly spitting, letting the drool leave his mouth and land directly on your clit. this time it was you who couldn't hold out your moan. once he started to suck on your clit again it's over for you.
you squirt all over his face, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- geto couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.
your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest y/n because we're not done yet".
#geto x reader#geto smut#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#sukuna x reader#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#geto x y/n#geto x you#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#getou x reader
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