#or even a piece of it. if it's something you want? well - it's already yours. it always has been.
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the girl next door 2
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.
Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.
"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.
"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.
"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."
"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.
"So..."
"Just go," she snips.
You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.
You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.
You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.
You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.
"Dang it," you whisper.
You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.
"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"
You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,
that needs to be fixed too.
You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.
"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.
You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.
"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.
"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."
You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."
He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."
You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.
"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.
You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.
You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.
"And your name? Neighbour?"
You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out.
“Is it just you over here?” He asks.
You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy.
“Oh, you got kids? A husband?”
You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway.
You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list.
“Mom,” you say.
“Ah, makes sense. You in school?”
You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly.
“Anyway...” he says.
You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that.
“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there.
You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent.
“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.”
You huff and push the mower over.
“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house.
“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes.
You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says.
You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away.
The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner.
“You figure it out?” She asks.
“No,” you flop onto the couch.
“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.”
“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.”
“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers.
You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is.
🏠
Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind.
As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil.
You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’.
You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you.
You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair.
“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat.
“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.”
“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.”
“Oh, uh, okay.”
You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin.
“Hello?” She sweetens her tone.
“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.”
“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.”
“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.”
His smile is just as charming as his introduction.
“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?”
“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.”
You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.
“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.”
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#series#the girl next door#mcu#marvel#captain america#au#silverfox au
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Charles Leclerc smut
Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, moaning, thigh fucking
There was always one thing that always made you go head over heels for your boyfriend of 4 years. The sex. God, he was good. Too good.
You and Charles lived in the same home. After only a year of dating, the both of you knew that what you had was it. Charles had never felt this way for anyone else before and neither have you. Sometimes, you think about the first time you had sex with your boyfriend. It was magical. There was just something about the fact that since the start he'd always been so caring and delicate with your feelings and your body. You were crazy in love, and so was he.
"Hello ma chérie." Charles said, hugging you from behind, his hands placed on your belly. You could feel his warmth wrap around your body, heating you up. (my darling)
"Hi my love. How are you feeling today?" You looked up at him.
"I'm doing pretty good. You?" He asked as he held you closer to him and planted a kiss on your head.
"Me too. I missed you." You said.
"I missed you way more and you know that." He replied.
"How come?" You asked.
"Because of this." Charles placed your hand on his buldge, a shaky sigh coming out of his mouth as you touched him.
Charles had been away for 3 days because of business issues. For you, that had been the worst 3 days of your life. Not seeing Charles was something you absolutely hated and that went both ways for you two.
You smiled as he leaned over you and kissed you while standing behind you. He planted multiple kisses on your neck, giving you small hickeys. You moaned and closed your eyes as you clearly enjoyed him. You turned around to face him and kissed him even more. While playing with his hair and having a makeout session, Charles let out a moan. He picked you up and led you to the bedroom where all the magic would happen. Your boyfriend set you down slowly on the bed, making sure you didn't get hurt in any way possible. Charles took his shirt off. His skin was flushed red and you could see the buldge in his pants, which he took off shortly after you admired him. Charles joined you in bed.
His hands trailed all over your body, squeezing your thighs while taking your pieces of clothing off one by one and throwing them onto the floor. Your partner was on top of you. Your hands were wrapped around Charles' back as he kissed you and rubbed his cock along your thigh. He started fucking your thigh at a faster rate. You could already feel his pre-cum on your bare skin.
"Please Charles- just fuck me already. I can't wait any longer." You whined, pulling away from the kiss while holding eye contact.
"Okay, whatever you want mon amour." Charles answered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and guiding his cock onto your wet folds. (my love)
Charles' breath was shaky and so was yours. Your nails entered deeper into his back as he got deeper into you. He was big, real big. He let you time to adjust before going in and out of you. You let out moans, which he found beautiful. He loved the feeling of your nails digging into his back as he made you feel like no one else could.
He took the time to make sure you were feeling well and that you were okay with continuing. You quickly nodded and bit your lip as he placed a hand on your breast while the other one rubbed your clit. That man knew what he was doing.
"I'm close- fuck Charles!" You screamed as he pumped in and out of your body.
"Me too (Y/N)- please cum for me. I need you." Charles said, almost reaching his orgasm. He moaned in your ear, calling you nicknames you loved. He told you how much he loves you and how he'll always be yours no matter what happens.
The both of you came at the same time. Charles stopped moving for a minute, taking the time to calm down and enjoy the moment. You were tired, and so was he. Charles softly lied down on you, his dick still inside of you. His head was rested on your breasts as you played with his hair.
He quickly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you. You did too after giving him soft kisses on his head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and drifted off to sleep.
#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 blurb#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1#fandom#fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1#formula one#romantic#romance#yn#x reader#x yn#cute#smut#sexy content#formula racing#love
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good luck, babe! | chapter 2
regina george x reader
summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)
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When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.
You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled pink Jeep?
You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.
You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.
After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.
“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.
“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.
You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.
You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.
“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.
“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.
“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.
“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”
You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”
“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.
“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”
You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.
“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.
Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.
“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.
Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.
You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.
She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.
Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.
Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.
“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.
“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.
“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.
“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.
“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.
Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.
You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.
Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.
Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?
-
After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.
This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.
“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.
“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.
Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.
You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.
Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.
“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?
“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.
“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.
“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.
“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.
“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.
“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.
#mean girls#mean girls x reader#mean girls 2024#regina george#regina george x reader#regina george x you#regina george 2024#mean girls 2024 x reader
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really lovvvve toxic ex megumi who can't stop being around you after you're break up. follows you to the parties you attend, meets with you, you both have an argument and then make out. <33
The cycle repeats until you take him back, you might as well anyway, it's not like you can get rid of him<3
godddd toxic ex megumi <3 <3 we'll always go back to uuuu
you see him before he sees you. or at least, he happens to not be looking when your eyes find him in the crowd. it happens too naturally for your taste. instantly there's something bitter in your mouth and you feel your eye begin to twitch.
but you play it off and try not to pay him any attention. you're at a house party, and you already found some eye candy that would much better suit your attention for the time being. would you see him after tonight? no, definitely not. but the more you sip your drink and flutter your lashes at him, the more appealing he becomes. especially now that you-know-who is here.
and who invited him anyways? your mind wanders even as you keep your eyes on the handsome company you forget the name of. all that matters is he's blonde- not a ravenette- and he's got brown eyes -not deep, beautiful ocean blue...- and what were you thinking about again..?
"she has a boyfriend you know"
you have to shut your eyes to regain some false sense of peace. otherwise you would've whirlled around already to try to kick the shins of the 6 foot toxic piece of-
"you do?" your blonde placeholder looks down at you with confusion in his eyebrows. your own expression is unamused, bored, and quite frankly you're not sure who to direct it at at this point.
"she does" megumi confirms. your elbow hits his forearm in warning, but it's not nearly strong enough to get him to back off. he's already made his stance clear in coming straight to you in this crowd of people, and your gut is already telling you that you're going to fall for it.
"i don't, actually," you reply, giving your nameless suitor a sickeningly sweet smile. "in fact, i'd even go as far to say i've never been as single as i am right now"
the blonde man clearly isn't in the state of mind for these games, his eyes shifting between you and megumi, and it's obvious to you both that he's made up his mind before he's even said anything. you don't have to turn around to know that megumi is glaring this sucker down until he cowers out.
and as expected, your once suitor bids you a fast, "well, have a good time!" before turning and booking it away from you and your baggage.
your baggage grins down at you as he takes his place. you huff and shut your eyes again, this time pinching the bridge of your nose as you wrap your half-drunken head around what just happened.
"what the hell do you think you're-"
"you look stunning, by the way,"
megumi cuts you off, he could skip the part where you chew him out for his behavior, it's nothing he hasn't heard before. you try to smack his hand away when his fingers tug at the fabric resting over your hip, but he ignores that too. he's far too interested in watching the short skirt of your dress ride up your thigh when he tugs on it.
"i like this dress," he mumbles out his thoughts, and you should smack him again, but you don't. his knuckles graze your skin and your thoughts start to go blurry. "haven't seen this before"
"well, it's been a month, so..."
your answer is weak and you both know it. you hate that when he looks at you, your heart starts to race. you hate that you know what's coming next, and that if you wanted to badly enough, you could stop it.
because when megumi says, "come with me" and beckons you to follow him, you do without a word. you follow close behind him as he wanders through the crowd before he gets to the patio door, and you stupidly follow him out through it, where you're both alone.
"you can't keep doing this" you say, but it's a mumble, and when you lean into the exterior wall of the house, he's in your space again in a second.
megumi's convinced himself that he's not manipulative, you're just so willing. why else would you wear that dress to a party you knew he'd be at? why else would you follow him somewhere where you could be alone? and you don't exactly push him away when he leans in close and tilts your chin up to bring you even closer. you bat your lashes at him and pout your lips- you're practically begging for it.
"don't be like that baby," he murmurs and you're melting before him. did you leave your drink inside? because now you find your hands empty and you need something to fiddle with or else they're gonna end up in his hair- "missed you, y'know"
you sigh, shutting your eyes and trying to tilt your head away, lean it back into the wall, but megumi's quick to cup his large palm around the back of your head and bring you back towards him.
or into him would be more like it, because his lips are on yours without any other warning.
you move your hands to shove him away, but they have their own will and they end up fisting his tee shirt to pull him in closer until you're so pushed up against the wall that your dress is being dragged up your thighs. the material wants to bunch up at your hips, despite your efforts to keep yourself partially decent, megumi has other ideas in mind when he decides to grab you by the legs and lift you. his hips pin you to the wall again with an ease you're all too used to, and it's around then that you don't care where the state of your dress lies.
he has the nerve to mumble nothings into your mouth as you sloppily meet his lips in every heated kiss. things you've heard too many times,
"see? you missed me too"
"i knew you'd want to get back together"
"we're so good together, baby"
and as you always do, you'll fall for it for however long it lasts this time. because no matter how many times you've broken up, you've never gotten over megumi.
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v. one time thing
this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.
a/n: and here’s the long awaited final part!! thank you for your patience and support and i hope you love it as much as i do <3
part i. part ii. part iii. part iv.
548 words
he’s panting when he comes back to himself, his face pressed into the cold floor of his apartment over your shoulder. your hands smooth over his back, a hum passed from you to him and back again.
“well,” matty sighs, breathing in the smell of your hair. “i’m an idiot.”
he leans up on his elbows above you and gazes at the soft smile that spreads over your face. your cheeks are flushed, your eyeliner smudged, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful.
he is a damned, bloody idiot.
“tell me something i don’t know,” you peek open one eye. “though i am feeling quite benevolent towards you at the moment.”
he nods and tries to hide a grin. “three orgasms will do that.”
“what have you been stupid about,” you swat at his shoulder. “this time.”
“you,” he answers quietly. you freeze underneath him and he drops a gentle kiss between your eyes. “this. i should have known you’d make a fool out of me.”
you blink up at him, wary and hesitant. “what are you talking about?”
“you’re not something i need to get out of my system,” his forehead falls onto yours. “you’re already there. you’ve been there for quite some time, and i find i don’t want it to go away.”
“thats just the sex talking,” the words rush out of your mouth in one breath. “we’ll talk it over in the morning. see how you feel.”
“i’ll feel the same.”
“okay. we’ll see.”
-
matty fucks you up against his bedroom window, bent over his desk, and in his shower. as the two of you were half-heartedly towelling off, sneaking hot, open mouth kisses over damp skin, you make some suggestion of calling a cab. he bends and heaves you over his broad shoulders in response, tossing you on his bed in a tangle of limbs and flannel sheets. matty lets his body fall over yours and curls calloused fingers around your waist.
he’s halfway asleep when he feels your nose press to his collarbone and the hand that’s tucked under his body curls into his hair.
“did you mean it?” you ask after taking a breath in. “is this—is this something you’ve wanted?”
with your words, matty lets out a deep breath and further buries his face in your tangled hair. “i’ve always wanted you.”
-
you’re not there when he wakes up.
still under the haze of sleep, he pats the space on the mattress next to him and feels cool sheets. he should have known. this whole thing was a stupid idea. he shouldn’t have even been at george’s party in the first pla—
just as his mind begins to spiral, the door creaks open and a mug of coffee is placed on the nightstand.
“i raided your kitchen.”
you’re smiling down at him, wearing his shirt, holding a piece of toast smeared with jam and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“that’s okay,” he half-whispers and moves over to let you back in.
you smile softly and sit next to him, one hand immediately going to his hair and letting his curls tangle in your gentle fingers. his head turns into your thighs and he speaks into your skin.
“do you understand now?”
“do you?”
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© 2023 justlikemebutsixfootthree - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or claim as yours
#the 1975#matty healy#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 imagine#the 1975 fic#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy drabble#the 1975 matty
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Rhys w a small reader with a big mouth?
Little Girl, Big Mouth
Rhys with a mouthy reader headcanons
Warnings - implied smut, reader could be seen as trashy but Rhys loves it
A/n - This anon actually came from an IRL friend. She texted me about it, and I had her clarify if she meant a gossip or big mouth as in a girl who is prone to talking shit and fighting. It was talking shit and fighting, so thanks, Sammie 💕💕
Ps- I will figure out what your username is 👀 but you're very sweet for doing this the way the rest of my followers do instead of just texting me first😭
You aren't a doormat. He refuses to let you be seen as one. Even if that means you get into a verbal argument here and there.
Those verbal arguments have gotten physical.
My baby daddy always tells me not to write a check he can't cash (if you don't know what that means, it means don't start a fight that he can't finsh.) You don't have that problem with Rhysand.
If you stand, mouth firing off insults as someone else is, he will stand too. Ride or die, he won't let you fight without him.
And that is if the man isn’t already behind you, warning the male standing over you without even having to speak that if he lays a hand on you or speaks out of line, he will be finding out why Rhysand is proud to be half illyrian.
You do know time and place, but if someone insults your male, your family, or your court first, all bets are off.
Your mouth is equal opportunity. High fae, lower, male, female, high lord? You don't care. All bets are off the table with you. No one is safe.
Beron? Constantly roasting him. Asking him if beating his wife helps him feel like a real male. Keir? Verbally torn apart. How pathetic he must be to think he has some pull when he lost out on being high lord.
Hell, illyrian males aren't even safe from you. Not when three immediately are behind you the second they feel your mood change.
And it isn't that you can't fight. You are well trained and can more than hold your own. He just prefers you let him.
He's only held you back once. It was from Amren, and he hardly caught you in time before you jumped on her.
Cassian was disappointed. He wanted to watch two tiny females wrestle it out. He said it would be better if pretty lacy outfits were involved, but he was ready to settle for you in your dress and Amren in her two piece outfit.
Rhys did not stop you, nor Amren, from tackling Cassian for that comment.
He will throw you over his shoulder, ignoring you as you scream for him to put you down while still running your mouth as you're carried out of the room. But only if family is involved.
Mother knows they are no exception. You all get on each other's nerves from time to time. Besides Azriel. You could never fight Azriel.
Rhys loves it. He loves how spicy you are. He loves how much fight and sass you have. He loves how it's always to people who are mean.
He does love fighting for you as well. Sometimes, he asks you to pick fights when it's someone he has been itching to get his hands on.
He rewards you throughly when you oblige him.
"Where's that big mouth now, darling?" While your back is arched off the bed, and your mind is just a haze. "Thought you had so much to say earlier."
He loves making his girl with so much to say and so many opinions go dumb for him.
He loves it when all you can think to say is his name and barely thrown together words.
He loves putting your mouth to other uses if you start in on him, too.
He'd keep you tucked under his desk for hours, putting your mouth towards something actually useful if you two fight.
And that's rare. Your opinions are normally shared and mutual. It's why you two work. Otherwise, you would be constantly at each other's throats with how vocally dominant you both like to be.
Overall, he'd change nothing about how sassy you can be. He loves you as is. Even if it means you bandaging his hands after a trip to Illyria.
#elizabeths.updates#send asks#send anons#acotar x reader#rhys headcanons#rhys x reader#rhysand x reader#rhys acotar#rhysand acotar#rhysand x you#rhysand x y/n#rhys x you#rhys x y/n#rhysand headcanons
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“She’s my girlfriend.”
Janis ‘Imi’ike x short tempered!fem!reader
Not my pics
Warnings- Regina being a jerk, arguing, fighting, janis just being a sweet comforting gf. I think thats all but lmk if i’m wrong!
A/N- This is honestly mostly Regina x reader but oh well. This idea just came to me randomly lol. Might write a part two with more Janis and less Regina lol.
You and Janis have been dating for 2 weeks now, you got together over spring break so no one really knew yet besides your family’s and close friends.
You were at your locker getting your things for your next class when an arm snakes around your waist making you turn your head to see your girlfriend. “Hey baby.” You smile as you close your locker. “Hey.” You kiss her before you heard that voice. “Well well well.” Oh great, here we go. You roll your eyes as does Janis. “What do you want Regina?” Janis said, both of you turning around to face the blonde. “Who’s this?” She asks, looking you up and down. That makes you roll your eyes again but before you can snap back with a snarky comment Janis beats you to it. “She my girlfriend.” “Aw you finally found someone that will put up with you?” Regina says with a fake pout. “Hey, uh, wait what’s your name again? Never mind i don’t care, did you know you’re little princess here likes to play with fire?” She says, giving Janis that shit eating grin of hers. “Look don’t even try any bull shit with me miss ‘queen bitch’, i know what you did to Janis oh and by the way your a piece of shit for that, but i will not put up with any of your nonsense.” You snap back. “Babe-” Janis starts but you cut her off. “No, no i’m not dealing with it. She walks all over everyone at this stupid school and I’m tired of it.” “Ooo, looks like you got yourself a feisty one.” Regina says, unfazed by your words. You were ready to attack her at this point but Janis grips your waist a bit tighter. “Regina, just go.” Your jaw clenched as she walked away, your eyes following her every move. “Hey, baby look at me.” Janis says then she grips your chin gently and turns your head to look at her. “Breathe, she’s only messing with you because of me.” You roll your eyes. “She’s a bitch, not just to you but everyone. It pisses me off.” “I know love, i know. But she just wants attention, she wants to get a reaction and getting mad is only giving her what she wants.” You sigh and nod, she places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Now come on let’s get to class.” She took your hand and the two if you walked to your next class, which lucky for you, you shared said class with Janis.
~~~~
It’s been weeks, weeks! And Regina still tries to pull any strings she can at any time she can. She’s dug deep into your history just to find something on you, she came out with nothing but stupid things from elementary school that wouldn’t help her much, she did find one thing though, you have a short temper. You get angry quickly and now that she knows that she’s gonna push all your buttons.
You were walking down the hall after asking to go to the restroom when you felt a hand on you shoulder, spinning you around to face her there was Regina with that stupid smirk on her face. “Hey Y/N.” You shrugged her hand off your shoulder. “Oh look you finally learned my name.” Regina chuckles. “I see your little pet isn’t with you.” Her words made you blood start boiling already. “I’m not doing this with you Regina.” You started to walk away. “Aw poor baby can’t handle a little chat? I know you’re a loner, or should i say loser, but i just wanted to talk.” She says, you clenched your fist by your sides as you turn around. “Fine. What could you possibly want to talk about?” She grins her shit eating grin. “I just wanted to warn you how crazy your little girlfriend is.” Your fists tighten. “Stop talking about her.” “Aw why not? You know she used to like me right? She was so obsessed.” Your jaw clenched and you got closer to her. “She was never obsessed with you. And even if she was she’s not anymore so just leave her alone.” Regina scoffed. “Yeah right, everyone is obsessed with me, haven’t you noticed?” You rolled your eyes. “That’s not true, you’re a bitch and everyone knows it.” “Ouch what cruel words of yours.” She mocked. You wanted to pounce on her, your fists and jaw was clenched tightly, you take a deep breath as you turn to walk away, trying the take the advice Janis had taught you before. “Ooo, did i hit a nerve?” You keep walking, trying to take deep breaths, your nails dug into your palms so hard that you were almost bleeding. “So angry,” Regina started. “It’s almost cute.” And that was it, you just couldn’t take it, you fast walked back to her and before either of you even realized your fist had already connected with her face. She stumbled back with a small yelp of pain, her hand going over her eye. But when she stabilized herself again she glared at you. “You bitch.” She said before then the two of you were fighting in the middle of the hall. It went on for a good moment. “Woah, woah, woah! Girls! Stop!” A teacher shouts as he ran over, pulling the two of you apart.
~~~~
You sat in a chair in the front office, leg bouncing, chewing on your bottom lip, decently dark bruises on your face, and probably other places that you haven’t seen yet, you knew your parents would be pissed, and what would Janis say? You didn’t know because even though you wanted to text her you were afraid to.
When your mom walked into the office you can see the angry radiating off of her. Great.
The second the car doors closed she immediately started. “What the hell were you thinking?! Why did you do it?” You rolled your eyes. “I wanna go home.” “Why did you do it Y/N.” She says more sternly. “She was being a bitch. She has been for weeks now. I couldn’t take it and she wasn’t just being a jerk to me she was talking about Janis too.” Your mom sighed, lucky for you she loved Janis and she can’t lie she is a bit proud that you would take up for yourself and others. “Well you’re still grounded, for 2 weeks.” You were honest surprised she dropped it so easily. “Wait, what? Nothing else? Just 2 weeks of being grounded?” “Do you want it to be longer?” She snaps back as she starts the car. You quickly just shut your mouth and went with it.
~~~~
You walk into school the next day, surprisingly you didn’t get in much trouble over the fight, you had a bruised up face as did Regina and you were getting tons of looks and you hated it. You walked with your head down until soon Janis was right in front of you, lifting your chin to look at her. “Oh baby…” She frowned, cupping your face as her thumbs glide over your bruises ever so gently. “I’m fine.” “I never said you weren’t but this looks pretty painful.” You shrug. “It’s not that bad.” She sighs. “Why did you fight her? I told you she just wants a reaction.” “I know but she deserved it either way, i wasn’t gonna let her walk all over me any longer.” She sighed then nods. “I get it.” There’s silence for a moment until she smiles and says. “You look pretty hot for someone with a bruised face.” You smile with an eye roll, she chuckles and plants a kiss to your lips then a few around your face and back to your lips. “Ok, ok, chill, we’re still in school y’know?” You said pulling away and she laughs lightly as she pulls away. “Well we could just…ditch?” She says with a smirk. “Hm, tempting.” You paused, thinking. “Y’know what? Fuck it, i don’t want to see Regina again anyway.” She smiles and with one last kiss the two of you then left.
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Forged From Death - Sihtric Kjartansson x Widow!Reader
An: Thank you so much @foxyanon for the request and officially turning me into a Sihtric girl. I hope this is everything you wanted. And @zaldritzosrose thank you for creating the header you are amazing!
Masterlist here!
Separate from the normal CW section for a special attention. This is going to be dark as reader thinks cruelty of her husband, Sigefrid, and her father towards those around them. No explicit examples of violence or abuse. I really was just trying to capture emotions without talking of direct acts.
CW: Language, political marriage really, Sigefrid is not a good man, neither was reader's father, warlord husband and father, scared child, character death, P IN V sex, fingering, dirty talk, gets quite dirty lots of smut, breeding kink, vague talks of pregnancy kink, she/her pronouns, use of you, reader not really described or named, FLUFFY, Stepdad!Sihtric, found family trope, soulmates trope kinda, love and lust and first sight
Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x reader
Word Count: 6.2k
You knew what you were. A bargaining chip, a prize. Something akin to a crown, symbolizing power. With your own father being a man who bargained in fear rather than respect, you weren’t surprised when your husband was the same.
Sigefrid Thurglison, rather quickly upon marrying you, decided his family’s wealth and power would be found in England. So, you sailed along with him and his brother to find this for yourselves. You, the dutiful wife, who knows your fate would be worse had you denied your father’s arrangement. You, who disappointed your father from birth by just being a daughter, who he could only use as a piece in his games but never actually respect. You, who married a man just like him.
You remained silent throughout. You played your part well, perhaps too well. Your name was used as a way to remind men of the force your husband could bring upon England. Even if they weren’t directly familiar with your father, they remembered the tales their fathers spoke to them, and they bowed at Sigefrid and Erik’s feet.
Until they met a man by the name of Uhtred. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to die or if he was just too stupid to realize that death was a very real possibility. But he was quick to anger your husband and his brother through way of opposition. And, apparently, Uhtred did not heed warnings well. He was unconcerned with the possibility of your father showing up.
“If he wanted England, he would be here,” said a voice from behind Uhtred upon your first meeting. You looked for the source. When you saw the man, you were certain your heart stopped for a moment.
You had seen beauty before. Land, sky, men, women, all of which held a certain captivating air about them. And yet there had been nothing as beautiful as the man who stood before you. You heard Uhtred refer to him as Sihtric, and your eyes made their way over his form. From his brown hair, to his striking yet mismatched eyes, over the angles of his face, and the swell of his muscles that already could be seen straining against the silver bands he wore, there was no part of him you felt was not hand crafted by Freyja herself to be the perfect embodiment of everything she represented.
And Sihtric noticed you. By the gods, did he notice you. You were pretty, prettier than any woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t tell what started swelling faster when he saw you looking back at him and smile: his cock or his heart.
That was the day he swore he would have you.
When he saw you again, it had been over three years. He hadn’t gone a day without thinking of you if he were honest. He was waiting so he could have his chance with you. Those few moments of seeing you was what carried him through the years. You were the face he saw with every victory and every stroke of his cock.
He only wishes it were under better circumstances.
You still resided in the fortress after Sigefrid laid dead on the ground. You knew the only way any of this would end would be if Sigefrid died. And you knew, as you listened to the herd of feet approach the room you were hidden in, that he had.
Sihtric was the first in the room. He knew that Sigefrid would never leave you far behind. It was unfortunate such a man had the honor of being your first husband. Sihtric, though, was perfectly fine being your last.
A feeling that did not waver when he saw you holding a small child close to your body. There was a fear in both of you, but you had the rage of a mother in your eyes. He could see it, and he wanted you more for it.
“He is dead?” you asked Sihtric as others, Uhtred and another you vaguely recognized, came into the room.
Despite having only seen him once, you knew Sihtric could be trusted. You couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was lust clouding your judgement. Perhaps it was a sign. Or maybe you were being stupid and crazy and you would only end up right back where you have been your whole life.
But, his eyes made you feel like that would never be the case again.
“Aye,” he said to you. “How old?” He nodded towards your child, your daughter, who looked at him in fear. He held up his arm, wordlessly keeping Uhtred and the other man from coming any closer.
“Four. She was born here, before we were sent away,” you told him truthfully.
“Her name?” he asked you. He continuously looked between your faces, barely capable of holding himself in place and not taking you in his arms.
“Astra.”
He said nothing else to you for the moment, instead crouching down to be on the same level as your daughter. She clung to you tightly.
“Hello, Astra. Are you hurt?” he said quietly to her. In silence, she shook her head. “Is your mother?”
“Mama is safe, I am safe,” she whispered.
It caused your heart to ache when you heard her repeat the words you told her when everything got quiet. Had you never left England, you would’ve been able to leave Sigefrid. You knew you would have had somewhere to take Astra to keep her safe from him. But when your husband was banished, he swore he would return with your father, and you knew better than to wait around for that. Your only saving grace now was that your father had died before you got back to Norway.
“Would you like to leave here? You and your ma can come with me, if you would like.”
Astra looked up at you, tears in her eyes as they had been all day. You knew that while Sigefrid had never touched either of you, he had given you both more than enough reason to be fearful. And you wanted so badly to make sure she never had to live with this fear again.
Your daughter looked to him and nodded silently. He extended his arms towards her slowly.
“Come then, little one. I will get you out of here,” he said softly. Astra, who had never trusted anyone but you, walked directly into his arms.
The sight of his arms wrapping themselves around her small body caused your heart to ache. It was something you had never thought to wish for, your daughter being in the arms of someone but you. Now you could only pray that this was her new normal.
“I’ve got you little one,” he whispered and stood up, holding her close. “I want you to close your eyes tight and put your forehead against my cheek until I tell you. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded. You watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, her whole face squinting up. Her forehead rested perfectly against his cheek, her brown hair matching his in a shocking way. It almost felt as she was made of him.
“You are as pretty as your ma, brave just like her too,” he told her. You were surprised when you heard her giggle. He looked to you. “Take my arm, Lady. “
You did as he said, stepping closer to him and holding tightly to his arm. He made sure you were not questioned or stopped as he led you out of the fortress. He already had stepped in as your protector and you barely knew him.
When you were outside the walls and far from the carnage, Sihtric finally stopped. You watched as he sat Astra down to stand on her own. He told her it was safe to open her eyes, and she looked relieved when she opened them and saw you.
“Lord,” Sihtric said as he saw Uhtred approach. He instinctually moved to stand between you both.
“Are more men following him?” Uhtred asked you, looking at you over Sihtric’s shoulder. His hand remained on his axe, though he did not unsheathe it.
“He was the last of them,” you told him. And that was the truth. Any men that hadn’t abandoned him before this battle laid dead.
“Do you have anywhere to go?” he asked.
You knew the truth of what he was asking. You were a widow now. Your husband’s family were meant to take care of you now, and your daughter. But Sigefrid was the last of his family, having killed his own brother during his last rampage. Their father had long since been dead and had no living brothers.
“No, Lord,” you told him. “He had no surviving family. And my own father died two winters ago. I was the only child.”
He looked past you to Astra. You could see in his eyes he did not trust you. And you did not trust him. You could not find it in you to trust anyone but Sihtric. But good men, which you ultimately believed Uhtred to be, did not harm little girls.
“You may come with me and my men, then. Until you find other…arrangements,” he said gruffly.
It was three and a half months when you began to worry about your future. You thought of Astra and worried endlessly for her. Her father’s reputation would stain her future forever, you feared. You had no way to provide for her truly. Should your fears be proven true, you wouldn’t even be able to arrange a proper marriage for her when the time would come.
But, you thought perhaps you were worrying too much for Astra. You stood in Uhtred’s hall, watching as Sihtric, Osferth, Finan, and Uhtred spoke, Astra settled peacefully on Sihtric’s lap. She was loved so deeply by Sihtric, and by extension the men he fought beside, one could be forgiven for thinking he was her father. Interestingly enough, she looked more like Sihtric than she ever did Sigefrid.
Uhtred looked to you and nodded, having noticed your presence for the first time. You two had a somewhat uneasy trust in each other now. Well, trust that if either of you betrayed Sihtric, or the others, the other would respond with a blade. And that seemed to make you friends.
Sihtric noticed you, immediately lighting up when he looked at you. He beckoned you to him, to Astra, the both of them holding your whole heart.
You were insane, you knew it. But from the moment you saw him those years ago, you loved him. He was obvious. You would burn down all of England for him if he were to ask.
He had never done anything but protected you and Astra from the very first moment. The day Sigefrid died, it could’ve been so much worse for her. But Sihtric was the one to make sure that no bad ever touched her since he met her.
It was one of many ways that everyone knew you two would find your way to each other. Sihtric would give everything for and to you. As far as he was concerned, the universe began and ended in you and at your feet he would worship. And there had never been a moment in which you doubted his devotion to you or Astra.
“Go say hello to your ma, little one,” Sihtric said softly to Astra.
“Okay, papa,” she giggled as she crawled off his lap while you knelt down.
It was not the first time she had referred to him as such, but it touched your soul every time you heard it. Sihtric looked to you immediately to make sure you did not think to correct her. He was not deluding himself into thinking his presence in Astra’s life could erase all the bad. But he knew, without a doubt, that she was his. From the moment he first held her in his arms, she was his girl and there was no argument he would listen to.
Your darling girl ran into your waiting arms. She was giggling, as she had done since your arrival in Coccham. She was happier than she had ever been. She felt more peaceful.
“Mama, mama, papa is making me an axe,” she told you excitedly.
“Oh is he?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked up to Sihtric. He blushed brightly, especially when Uhtred and Finan began to tease him for being in trouble.
“M-my love, I only,” he said, beginning to attempt an explanation.
“She will need an axe if she is going to be on my shield wall one day,” Uhtred told you, grinning from ear to ear. He stood from his seat, drumming a bit on the table, before he jogged over to you and Astra. “And if there is one thing my Little Star will be it is an excellent warrior.”
You watched as Uhtred picked her up and put her on his shoulders. She squealed and giggled until she was settled on her perch.
“If you are teaching her, then I consider myself lucky to have such a warrior in my home,” you said, standing, while grinning ear to ear. “Perhaps she will be knowledgeable enough to teach our next child.” You looked directly at Sihtric as you said ‘our’.
“Our next ten,” he said back to you. He was still blushing a bit, but he enjoyed these moments.
“And you shall birth them all? If it is up to me, you get five,” you said to him.
“You would give me five more children?” he asked excitedly. You could practically see him buzzing.
“Should you decide to take me as your wife,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging to him as you walked over to the table he sat at.
Once you were in his reach, his arm wrapped around you, hand resting on your hip. There was no hesitation from either of you as Sihtric pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around him.
At first, you had withheld from such public affection. You were only a few months a widow, you felt as though there was some need to respect your loss. But, when your husband had been so cruel to everyone around him and Sihtric was such a soft presence, you lasted perhaps a week before you made your affections clear.
“You honor me, my love,” he said softly. “To think you have already blessed me with one, and are willing to bless me with more. One would be a fool to deny the chance to be your husband.”
You kissed his cheek. It was truly simple with him. There was no darkness. Only love and warmth flowed between you both.
“You will make sure she is careful?” you asked him, bringing the conversation back to the idea of Astra getting an axe.
“Of course, my love,” he confirmed to you. “You know nothing means more to me than the safety of my girls.”
It was less than a month later that you were married. Sihtric made sure it was everything you dreamt of it, everything you were not afforded the first time around. He was watching as you danced with Astra. He loved both of you more than anyone had loved two people.
“Congratulations,” Uhtred said as he sat next to Sihtric. “You will make a fine husband.”
“Thank you, Lord,” he said, smiling. His eyes went between you and Uhtred rapidly, wanting to make sure you never disappeared.
“I see our Little Star got a hold of your hair,” Uhtred smirked as he grabbed a drink. Sihtric’s hand moved to his head, where there was a tiny braid in his hair.
“There is no finer braider in all of England,” he said. “Finan has offered to keep her tonight.”
“Did he tell you Osferth and I were asked to come too?” Uhtred chuckled.
“He did, Lord,” Sihtric laughed, taking a drink of his ale. He sat the cup down, looking to his Lord, his friend. “I want her to be mine.”
“She already is,” Uhtred said. “Nobody will deny that.”
“No, I mean....I want Astra to be just as the children of my blood. I want her to inherit, I want to be responsible for her. Entirely. And should she and my wife allow, I want to give her my name,” Sihtric said.
Uhtred could see a determination on his friend’s face that he had not quite seen before. It shone through in a burning heat. He lived for the family he had with you now. No oath superseded his oath to the two of you, and none ever would.
“Should they wish it, it is done. I will make it known Astra is to be no different than any child of your blood,” he promised his friend. “Now, go dance with your wife. Take her to bed. We will keep our Little Star.”
With a clap on the shoulder, Sihtric stood from the table and began to work his way through crowd to you. You were twirling Astra around, making her laugh and laugh. He could not imagine a more perfect life for himself.
Sihtric chuckled when Astra noticed him and ran into his legs. He knew she was his. She was meant to be his daughter. He could not be bothered by something as trivial as blood. He, of all people, knew family was not limited to blood. Family was created by love, and he loved her enough to create a universe.
Then there was you, his dear wife. He thought you looked stunning in your dress, the deep red color feeling like the physical representation of his love for you. You were more than he could have ever dreamed of. All of his life, he wanted to be what his father wasn’t. A good, honorable man who stayed for his family and loved his wife. A man worthy of love and respect.
And he realized that’s exactly how you saw him.
“Hello, my love,” you said to him when you saw him.
“Are you talking to me?” he asked teasingly, picking Astra up when she stopped dancing.
“Yes, my love. Though, perhaps you would much prefer my husband,” you said, smirking.
“Aye. After all, I will never call you anything but my wife again,” he said and rubbed his nose against Astra’s cheek.
“Hehe papa,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “I love you.”
Sihtric could feel his heart skip a beat. She had called him papa for months at this point, that was no surprise. But, Astra had not told him she loved him. And there was something so precious about hearing it.
“I love you, little one,” he said softly, pressing his lips against her forehead.
You smiled at the two of them. You wanted to hold this moment in your mind for the rest of your life. Capture it, freeze it for all of eternity, something you could hold onto and remember love.
“Now little one, Uncle Finan is excited to start your time together. Your ma and I will see you in the morning,” he told her as he sat her down.
“UNCLE FINAN I AM COMING!” Astra shouted as she ran off through the crowd.
Every person parted to let her through, allowing your eyes to follow her path to Finan. She was loved by most any in town. Her personality was loud and bright enough so that everyone knew her. Of course, it helped that she was always right by your side, and you were always close to Sihtric.
And you knew, at least within the confines of the town walls, she was safe to move about. Most everyone would agree that harming a child is egregious. Everyone agreed that harming your child was the fastest way to ensure a brutal death by the hands of Sihtric, and a quick one by Uhtred and Finan. Even Osferth, sweet Osferth, would pray for his God’s forgiveness as he took the life of anyone who would lay a finger on Astra. She was loved, she was safe. For the first time in her life she did not flinch when she was more than an inch from your skirts.
“Being my wife suits you,” Sihtric told you, drawing your eyes from Finan and Astra to him.
He looked at you with pure adoration. He worshipped you. Made certain that he loved you enough to make the bad parts of your life feel like another lifetime.
“Just as being my husband suits you,” you said to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
His arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you tightly to him. He breathed you in, feeling overwhelmed by you. Everything about you was intoxicating to him. From your beauty, the way you smelled, the way your body pressed against his own, there was nothing that could dampen his desire of you.
“Then it seems we are in agreement,” he said.
“That it does,” you said softly, leaning forward slightly. Your lips hovered next to his ear. “And I think I would like to feel my husband.”
You felt him shudder with your words, the unmistakable hardness of his erection beginning to dig into you. It had not been difficult to get him excited these last months. Even after both of you had agreed to wait until you were married, you had enjoyed riling him up before he returned to his own home.
“I have dreamt of this night for years,” he muttered to you. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were mine. I dreamt of my cock sinking deep into you for hours on end.”
It was your turn now for a shiver down your spine. There was no part of you that could deny dreaming of the same thing for just as long. In the years trying to exist outside of England, the nights where you went to bed amidst yells and cheers during another fight to the death for Sigefrid’s amusement, you dreamt of his mismatched eyes. Of his sharp beauty. Of a life you now got to share with him.
You weren’t sure who broke away first between the two of you, but it wasn’t long before you were walking down the streets to his, no your, home. The home you would grow old together in, gods be good. And the two of you couldn’t keep from stopping every few feet, pulling the other for a deep, passionate kiss.
When you finally arrived at the house, he picked you up and carried you over the threshold. In fact, he did not put you down until he could place you on the bed. You had barely recognized that you were laying on it before he was hovering over you, repeatedly kissing your neck.
“Such a pretty wife,” he muttered with every kiss. You put your head back to expose more of your sensitive skin. “Have been blessed, haven’t I? Blessed by the gods to be given such a pretty wife.”
You placed a hand on the bag of his head and gripped his hair firmly. Despite the pull on his hair, you only brought him closer into you. You could feel him starting to grind himself against your thigh, desperately looking for some relief.
“Fuck, Sihtric,” you moaned out. But when his name left your lips, he nipped at your neck quickly. It took you by surprise, causing a quiet squeak to escape you.
“Be a good, pretty wife and do not use my name tonight,” he whispered in your ear.
“Such a demanding husband I have,” you teased. “So desperate to fuck me he has to rut against me like an animal.”
He groaned into your neck at your words, his right hand beginning to fumble with the fastenings of your dress. You ignored the shaking of your own hands, your need of Sihtric outweighing your nerves. This was meant to be, after all. And you had faith it would be perfect.
“Use your mouth for better things and perhaps I will let you fuck a child into me tonight,” you told him. This time it was not a groan, but a quiet whimper, that left his lips. His fingers struggled with undressing you, the way it was held to your body being more complicated than he had thought.
He pulled back entirely, sitting up on his knees as he began reaching for the knife he carried. He cut the fabric of your dress away from your body. You stared at him, eyes heavy with lust.
“Nothing but a dress, you can replace it,” he told you. You could only nod at him as he helped remove the material away completely. After a moment, the tattered remains of the dress and his knife fell together to the floor, just as quickly forgotten.
He stared at your naked form. He could not help it, truly. Everything about you was perfect for him. He leaned forward and kissed you once more, before his lips started trailing down your body. Along your jawline, down your neck, over your collarbone. He only took pause when he got to your breasts. Sihtric’s left hand began pawing at one while his lips wrapped around your nipple.
You moaned quietly as he sucked while massaging your soft flesh. Your eyes fluttered shut, whimpering every time he decided to graze your nipple with his teeth. You wanted to beg him to give you more, to pleasure your aching cunt.
He groaned to himself before pulling away from your breasts entirely, muttering a promise he would play with them more. You almost started to laugh, only for it to catch in your throat when his fingers found your slick. He smirked down at you.
“You must really enjoy this, wife,” he whispered teasingly. His fingers ran up and down your folds, deliberate in their light touching of your pearl.
“Of course, I have only dreamt of you as my husband a few dozen times now,” you told him. Your thighs trembled a bit as you resisted the urge to buck your hips into his hand.
He hummed quietly as he allowed his finger to sink into you. While you became a whimpering mess, he just slowly thrust his finger in and out. Never had you known such bliss. His finger felt thicker than you had anticipated.
“What is it, pretty wife? Cannot think through your pleasure?” he asked you, looking directly into your eyes.
Your resolve finally broke. With a moan, you allowed your hips to move to meet his hand. All you could think of was chasing your pleasure with him.
“You say I am demanding, but you are so needy,” he cooed. He pushed another finger into you, curling his fingers slightly with every thrust of them. His touch was perfectly focused on the spongy spot inside you.
“Love, my love, please, fuck, please,” you moaned. You couldn’t finish a single thought as you felt a band tightening behind your navel.
You had only experienced such a feeling with yourself. Pleasure had never been at the forefront of your life. Until now, at least, since Sihtric seemed determined to make you reach that point. He increased the speed of his fingers movements.
“Cum for me,” he practically demanded of you. His voice was quiet, meant only for your ears, but forceful in nature. “And then I’ll give you my cock. Such a good girl, you deserve it. Don’t you, my love?”
“Y-yes,” you whispered. You gripped the furs under you tightly, the edges of your vision going fuzzy.
“Deserve my cock, deserve my love. You have both, entirely, you understand?” he asked you, his thumb barely ghosting against your pearl.
“Yes, fuck, my love, my husband,” you whined pathetically. It seemed to please him, at least enough.
His thumb finally rested against the bundle of nerves, rubbing circles in time with every thrust of his fingers. The band finally snapped as you cried out, back arching off the bed. A jumbled mess of his name, husband, love, and expletives left your tongue.
You were able to watch as Sihtric removed his touch from you entirely. He brought his fingers to his lips before he sucked them clean, earning another whimper from you. And then you got to watch him undress, his shirt and pants being flung away in a matter of moments.
You weren’t entirely sure which of the gods had blessed you, but you thanked everyone of them when Sihtric stood naked before you. His toned chest and stomach was near flawless, save for a few scars earned in battle. The Thor’s hammer pendant rested against his taut chest. Your gaze washed over the grooves of his form, able to count each muscle, until they finally landed on his cock.
He was blessed even then. His heavy cock bobbed with need. When his eyes caught yours, he smirked at your hungry gaze. He was long and thick enough to make you question just how exactly you were meant to take him in entirely.
Sihtric couldn’t hide his smirk when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body closer to his. He groaned softly as his cock now rested against you, already collecting your slick.
“I love you,” he said to you, his voice softer than the cocky look etched on his face would have you expect.
You tried to stutter out some response before he started rubbing himself against you. Anytime the head brushed against your pearl, the feeling stole your words and sent shockwaves through your body. There was a pride he felt at already having you responding like this before having even fucked you.
“I love…fuck, fuck me, fuck I love you,” you finally managed to get out.
“Good girl, using your words,” he cooed. He moved his cock to start pressing against your entrance. “Are you going to keep being a good girl, love?”
“Yes,” you said weakly and nodded
He smiled at you. He grabbed your leg gently, hooking it on his arm, as he leaned down to bring his face closer to you. Your knee pressed against your chest while he kissed you. You melted into his kiss, your hands releasing the furs you laid up on to hold his face gently.
Your kiss only ended on account of the way he couldn’t hold back his whines and whimpers when he pushed into you. He couldn’t help the way your name left him when you took half of him without issue.
He pulled himself away to look down at your face. After a moment, he looked between your bodies and groaned when he saw you impaled on his cock.
“Fuck, such a pretty wife I have,” he muttered. “You ready for more, my love?” he asked when he reconnected your gaze.
“Yes,” you told him, nodding eagerly.
He groaned as he moved his hips forward. It was pure bliss for both of you. His cock throbbed with every thrust, your walls clenching tightly around him. Every nerve ending in both of you felt like it was on fire as your connection only grew. Sihtric watched you every second, trying to make sure it was as mind blowing for you as it was for him.
His speed increased desperately. He needed more, you needed more. Your hands roamed his body, your moans filling his ears like a beautiful song. The head of his cock kept moving against the spongy spot inside, making your thighs tremble once again.
You watched him as he thrust into you. His pendant and your breasts moved in time with his thrusts, captivating him. You could see him teetering the line of control and instinct. He wanted this to be sweet for you, to be perfect, everything you deserved. He has heard enough stories of your life to know you deserved more than to once again be used for someone else’s pleasure.
“Such a good husband already,” you told him, gripping his biceps. His gaze softened when you spoke, his hips stuttering a bit. “We have all our lives for you to make me scream your name in pleasure, do we not? “
He nodded wordlessly. His cock never once stilled in you as he watched you. He kept grunting under his breath, every noise ending in what sounded like a whine.
“Then I say tonight, I want you to finish inside of me until there is no doubt that come morning I am carrying your child,” you commanded.
His mouth hung open, his hips slowing a bit as he stared down at you. You could see him searching for any uncertainty on your face. Yet, he could search for his entire life and never find in you any doubt of him.
You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned up and took his pendant of Thor’s hammer in between your teeth before looking directly into his eyes. His thrusts picked up in speed, going harder and deeper than before.
He closed the gap between you, his lips coming next to your ear as he finally released your leg. On one side all you could hear a symphony of skin slapping against skin as he fucked you at an almost bruising intensity. In the other, he began to whimper and whine for you.
“Pretty wife, amazing mother,” he whispered in your ear, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips. He was throbbing inside you and you could feel just how close he was. The way he twitched and pushed against you, his weight pressing into your chest, the band started to tighten again.
“Already a desperate man for you,” he grunted. You were incapable of getting any sound to leave your mouth. All you could do was focus on his word, his sounds, his movements. He was all you knew to be true in this moment.
“Can’t wait to see you pregnant. Probably prettier, round with child and tits swollen with milk. Fuck,” he said to you as his hips started stuttering more frequently.
Your orgasm overcame you finally, causing you to cry out his name. You were barely aware of his whisperings still in your ear.
“That’s a good girl, fuck, yes, my pretty wife,” he practically growled in your ear. Finally, his thrusts stopped, his cock buried inside you as he released ropes of hot cum into you. Sihtric let out a sound with every throb.
You were trembling when he pulled himself from you, breathing heavily. Carefully, he maneuvered the furs out from under your body before carefully covering you both. You moved closer to him and laid your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, holding you as though he was terrified of you walking out the door.
You laid there in silence for several moments, basking in the way you felt. With being given from your father to Sigefrid, you had never known much of love or safety. You had never really known kindness. You had feared for so long that the violence and chaos both of them had brought into their lives and halls would haunt you forever.
Yet, laying here in Sihtric’s arms, you almost couldn’t remember how they made you feel. He made you feel so powerful, so loved, so worshipped beyond belief that you would now go days without thinking of the horrors of your past. Even Astra seemed to feel nothing but safety and love.
You turned your face to look at him. He was looking happily down at you, a cheesy, lazy little grin splashed on his face. You were certain nothing could get better than this.
“I love you,” you said softly. “Especially your eyes.”
He rolled them, yet the smile never faded. “Which is your favorite?” he asked.
“Oh no, that is like trying to choose a favorite mountain, or snowflake. Each so unique, so special, one would be an ignorant fool to pick a favorite,” you told him, smiling up at him. “Luckily, I do not have to. I get to enjoy them until I die.”
“Oh? And if I die before you?” he teased, kissing your forehead.
“You are not allowed. I cannot let you walk into Valhalla without me there to greet you, even if that means I will need to pick up an axe again,” you said simply. It was your truth. “I have spent my entire life waiting for the love you give me. You are not allowed to ever make me live without it again, husband.”
Sihtric tried to hide it, but you could see him wiggle just a bit, his smile spread further, when you addressed him as husband. In the moments past, he was too distracted by lust. But now it was sinking in, for both of you, and you felt just as joyful as him.
“Of course, wife. I would not dare leave you to raise our ten children alone,” he said, smirking as you laughed.
“I believe I said five more,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.
“I believe Freyja will bless us with a small army, as much as I plan to bury my cock in you,” he told you, kissing your forehead. “Speaking of.”
Sihtric smirked before kissing you again, pulling you on top of him. You felt your laugh rumble in your chest as you couldn’t help but kiss him back.
You were finally no longer a bargaining chip.
Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @alexagirlie
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6, 13 and 18 (Dooku) for the fandom ask, please :D
6) Show us a bit of a WIP!
:D You get the Sifo + Dooku + Time Travel Piece that I'm "definitely" "not" "writing." Some Asajj + 20 year old Dooku team-up nobody asked for. Especially not Asajj.
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Asajj studied him again, more appraisingly this time. He did look disconcertingly familiar.
Did Dooku have an heir that she’d never heard about? She’d clocked the boy as younger, what with all his naivete and whining, but now that she really looked at him… Nineteen? Maybe twenty years old? The age lined up disconcertingly well with Dooku’s first days as Count. A hereditary title, after all, passed from father to son. The idea of Dooku reproducing was nauseating, of course, though it was at least a little funny to imagine the former Jedi’s face upon being informed that House Serenno required his “gift” to ensure the bloodline’s survival.
But no. Why would House Serenno surrender an heir to the Jedi? She didn’t need to see the long braid to recognize that this was clearly one of their Padawan Learners; he reeked of a sheltered Temple upbringing. She could practically smell the refectory milk on his breath.
“Why do you want to be the one to kill Count Dooku so badly, anyway?” she asked, instead.
“He killed my best friend!” His voice broke on the word best, but his fury streaked, vibrant as a comet in the Force.
Asajj almost choked on her laugh. It was so melodramatic. Cliche. Like a line from an overwrought holonovel, spinning out in predictable plot hooks before her eyes. This Jedi child was pathetic. She ought to get them into space and send him to look for Dooku out the airlock. It seemed like it would save her and the Jedi both a lot of trouble.
She thought of her sisters.
Vengeance. Thick and sweet and tangy, like spoiled cream clinging to her tongue. It belonged to her, but no less to the others whose lives Dooku had crushed out for no better reason than because he could. She was here to glut on the Count’s blood. Who was she to deny this hungry child his own right to the feast? Dooku made a big corpse. There was plenty for all.
“Do you know how to sit down and shut up?” Asajj turned briskly to the ship controls. They had already wasted too much time.
“Yes.” A lie. She could tell that without even looking at him.
“Yes, what?” She prompted, glancing back. Maybe she just wanted to hear him try to call her “my lady” in that ridiculous, overformal Coruscanti accent of his.
He swallowed audibly, clearly uncertain. He glanced again at the twin lightsabers at her waist and seemed to decide. “Yes, Master.”
Asajj couldn't help the small, startled laugh that broke from her chest. That hadn’t been what she was expecting. No one had ever called her that. She felt surprised at the strength of her own reaction. Perhaps this would actually be amusing. At least, for a little while.
“What is your name?”
“My name?”
Asajj rolled her eyes. “You have a name? Or should I just refer to you as ‘idiot’?”
She watched his hesitation, saw those big, guileless brown eyes drift and refocus. Black fucking stars, he lied artlessly, like a child.
“Sifo-Dyas. My name is Sifo-Dyas.”
13)What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?
I know I went backwards here writing the most unknown/unpopular character in the series with Sifo-Dyas to the most popular, but I'd really like to spend a little bit more time with Obi-Wan. He's got a large role in the next chapter of Twelves Months to Murder Count Dooku and I'm really excited. I really like the character. Kenobi changed something for me about him.
18) Type [charater]'s name and tell us what the autocomplete suggests as the next word
Lolol. "Dooku FOUGHT." "Dooku only" and "Dooku Nu" were other suggestions. Yeah, that really says it all. No notes, google.
#such a fun ask thank you so much Ant!!!#don't worry too much about Sifo-Dyas in the WIP he's just off playing with his clones#and Dooku fought Dooku only and Dooku Nu are my three main ways to write Dooku after all#answered asks#time travel au#why is that a tag I have now someone stop me
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Poll analysis part 4
I normally don't do these so soon, but since I started doing the duo and the trio polls that really brought out some interesting trends
Naruto, I know I've called you guy my problem child fandom just because of how you engage with me. But you guys can't seem to catch a break unless it's Kakashi or Madara. You think one of the most popular animes of all time would at least be able to win something. But no. You're coming in dead last in the Battle Royals. Even just the regular polls with your characters have extremely low engagement. With the only exception being Kakashi or Madara. I have my theories on why this might be happening but I want to observe some more because there are so many more Naruto Polls in the queue before I put anything in writing publicly
Sailor Moon oh boy, did you guys come out to support your lesbians. I was not expecting so much support for those characters, I think I threw them in as a last minute I need an all girl Duo and you guys turned out. I'm curious to see if this continues with all the Sailor Moon characters
Samurai Champloo these characters get mentioned so many times in the comments. Like where are these characters why aren't they in the swordsmen or trio Battle Royale and no one shows up to support them. Why is this? I know Samurai Champloo is iconic but you all are pulling an Attack on Titan. I think the fandom is comatose and the characters only get mentioned out of respect for its iconic status
JoJo's apparently has characters that are trying to give Senshi a run for his money when it comes to panty shots or booty shots. Those polls have been funny. I'll give you that. And it somehow feels appropriate for the JoJo's fandom to do everything for the meme and submit those polls with those specific photos
Berserk you guys only show up to support Griffith and Casca. There is very little love for Guts that might be due to his opponents most the time, but I think that is somehow thematically appropriate
Fullmetal Alchemist I thought you guys only showed up for general Armstrong when I paired up Hawkeye and Mustang as a Duo. You all show up in droves to show your support.
Castlevania You guys show up pretty consistently no matter the character, it's been entertaining because you all can put some interesting things in the tags
One Piece is trying to submit the most obscure characters in that show and then put the most ridiculous tags on it so I have to add them to that already ridiculously long post. At least that's what it feels like because it feels very deliberate.
Cowboy Bebop you exist and your characters are hot. They're even hotter together. That's all I can really say
Bleach You exist. Your characters are mostly hot and Yoruichi is top tier waifu that sweeps in basically every poll she's in
Well that's all for this update There again will be another one. Don't know when but there will be one
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Cookies and Brownies - Gaz x Reader
Content Warnings - Fluff with some very, very minor angst.
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
Normally, Gaz did not find leaving his flat so difficult. Usually he was already gnawing at the bit to get back onto the field from his mandatory leave, to get back to doing something instead of lying around. Well now he had a reason to want to stay, for the person next door who also happens to work at his favorite bakery/cafe.
There is something cruel about that, ironically cruel. Gaz has never had any trouble getting people to come home with him, sometimes he didn’t even need to put on any of his charm. But he knows it was because of his looks, charming like a prince in a fairytale. Was it the military lifestyle? Was that why he found it so hard to keep people around him and wanting him? Maybe.
But you, you were different. You didn’t see his return to the military as a goodbye, closing your door on whatever is happening between the two of you. No, you worked out a solution in mere seconds. Gift packages, he’d seen some men he’s worked with before get them. Packages usually from loved ones, like family or partners. Sometimes from friends. Gaz hadn’t gotten one since his early days, back when his grandmother was still around. God rest her soul.
It’s two weeks later, two weeks into being at this base in this fucking desert that the package arrives. His name is called out alongside others and he is handed a package, it has several postmarks slapped onto it with your handwriting on the box for the address.
His stomach twists at the sight of your handwriting, how is that possible? How can he feel that way over handwriting? It’s not just anyone’s handwriting, Gaz thought, it's yours. Distinctly and completely yours. Something no other person could replicate, just you.
Gaz waits until he’s in his tent, empty thankfully, to cut open the package. Inside there is a letter on top of several tins that his mind immediately thinks are sewing supplies until he connects the dots. He opens the letter first, imagining his grandmother slapping the back of his head for being rude and going for the gifts first.
More of your handwriting, his heart pounds as he reads through the letter. He can’t help but rub his thumb over where you wrote his name. Kyle. His real name, not a call sign given to him years ago. Kyle Garrick.
Kyle opens the first tin and finds it filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. It dawns on Kyle then that there are four tins, which means lots of baked goods. He licks his lips as he pulls out the other tins and opens them, just to know which one’s hold which.
There is another tin of cookies, white macadamia nut and two tins of brownies. One looks like the classic kind and the other filled with cookie-brownies. He feels like a wolf staring down prey, unguarded sheep ready to be eaten. Before he digs in, he puts the tins away and rips a piece of paper from his notebook and writes.
Dear Kyle,
Hello! I hope the package found you alright and that I had added enough postmarks for it to make the journey. I hope you’re still at base and not somewhere fighting bad guys haha. Things here have seriously slowed down or maybe its because our best customer isn’t currently here. I made some cookies and brownies although they might be stale. If they are, I’m sorry but I’m not sure how to stop that from happening. Do you have any kind of favorite candies? If you send me a letter with your favorites I’ll be sure to include it in the next batch, maybe even bake it into the cookies.
It’s been raining impossibly often but according to Mrs. Thompson its that time of the year. Is that true or is she trying to keep me from rightfully complaining about not seeing the sun in a week? Why is it that when you left the sun decided to hide behind rain clouds? Do you have some kind of deal worked out with the weather? If so, let me in on it, there’s only so much rain a person can handle. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy the likely stale cookies and brownies.
#gaz call of duty#gaz x female reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#gaz x y/n#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#cod imagine#gaz imagine
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Hi I’m requesting on behalf of my friend ( thier too shy to even send anonymously) a couple of days ago a boy pulled off her Hijab and ran off with. This obviously sacred and upset her do could you do a comfort fic for her? Where this situation happens to Kung Lao, smoke and kuai liang’s s/o? If you don’t feel comfortable writing this that is fine. Thank you!
Show Her Respect!
Prior notes: I acted quickly when I saw the request. I can’t believe there are people out there that still do that kind of stuff. I hope I can make her feel better.
Pairings: Kung Lao, Tomas, Kuai Liang x Hijabi! Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: Hijabs will be pulled but the perpetrators will be beat
Kung Lao
The sun shined bright on the Fengjian village. Kung Lao found it would be the perfect opportunity to show you around and maybe even show you the flowers that are blooming.
Throughout the day you two ran around the village and said hi to the locals. You even got to say hi to Raiden who was out training. Kung Lao should have been training as well but you know how he is. He thinks he’s already perfect enough. Plus, he wanted to have all his attention on you today.
You got to see many the flowers that bloomed from this season. The azaleas, begonias, magnolias, lilies, and Kung Lao’s favorite, the cherry blossoms. He liked to blow the petals towards you which made you laugh. What a charmer.
Now how else can you end off a perfect day than having a nice dinner that Madame Bo made. I just hope you can handle watching Kung Lao shove food into his mouth. You don’t know how he can keep his lean figure while eating plates upon plates full of food.
Unfortunately there are some in this world who are closed minded. It appears that the sight of you having a nice dinner with Kung Lao didn’t sit right with them. It caused them to make a foolish decision.
A man casually walked up behind your chair as you were in deep conversation with Kung Lao. Suddenly you felt something yank hard at your head. You immediately knew what happened. You screamed not just because your hijab was pulled off but because they yanked so hard it hurt you.
Immediately Kung Lao averted his eyes. He had to think quickly on he had to handle this. An impulsive decision was made and he handed you his trusty razor-rimmed hat.
“Here, use it to hide your head for now.” He said while still looking away.
You grabbed his hat carefully so the razors didn’t cut your fingers. You hid yourself to the best of your abilities. Once you did Kung Lao jumped out of his chair and started bolting for the guy who snatched your hijab. His feet were moving fast to the point many could hear fast tapping against wooden floors.
By the time the guy turned around to see what was coming towards him he felt the pressure of a hard kick to his ribs. Kung Lao dropped kick the man with as much force as he could. If he would have kicked any harder there would have been rib cage pieces floating around in the guy’s body. The kick was still hard enough to send the guy flying into some tables. Kung Lao stood over the man and grabbed his wrist.
“If even a strand of her headscarf is tampered with, you will regret ever crossing me.” His voice conveyed how serious this was.
He looked down at the man with this anger that suggested he would kill him. Now isn’t the time since he has to get your hijab back to you.
Kung Lao came running back with the hijab in his hands. Thankfully there were a group of waitresses who saw the situation and made a circle around you. He handed your hijab over to one of the waitresses so she could pass it back to you.
They were all willing to help you, even Madame Bo who came with a new safety pin since the one you had before was bent from the harsh yank. She helped make sure everything was hidden and that your hijab was all neat. Once you were all good the waitresses allowed Kung Lao to come to you. The moment you saw him you ran into his arms with a few tears slipping down your face.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” You thanked him as you hugged him tight.
“Of course. How could I let some lowlife do such a thing to my girl.” He hugged you back, rubbing your back to soothe you.
He turned his neck a little to look at the guy he just put down. He was making sure he stayed in place but Madame Bo had that taken care of. Kung Lao could see the old woman beat and kick the guy even more, yelling at him for snatching your hijab and messing up the tables. She showed that man no mercy and Kung Lao was grateful for that. Once she was done she had the waitresses throw the guy out and told him he is forever banned from the tea house. Kung Lao thought now would be the time to ask for something that would make you feel better.
“Madame Bo, would you mind if we get more tea and maybe some more-“
“I know, Kung Lao, more of her favorite dish. I’ll have it here soon. And this time it’s on the house.” Madame Bo was already making her way back to the kitchen.
Kung Lao managed to calm you down, telling you he won’t ever let you get hurt and that he will always protect you. He held you close for the rest of the dinner as your worries wore off from eating your favorite dish.
You don’t care what anyone had to say about Kung Lao. He is your hero. He is kind, brave, understanding, and one heck of a fighter. And the best part. He is yours and you are his. You couldn’t have asked for a better man
Tomas
Your visits to the Lin Kuei are always welcomed by the one and only Smoke. But for you, you can call him Tomas.
Your existence is his light. In a whirlpool of fighting, protecting himself from Bi-Han, helping to train others, and dealing with the harsh weather of Arctika, you are the hand that reached out to save him. Whenever you visit he is reminded that there is much more than the life he has in the Lin Kuei.
Immediately once you stepped into the temple he came at you with a hug. Gosh he gives out the best hugs. You hugged him back with as much strength as you could muster but even with that you were no match for him. You two laughed at your attempt.
You two started to make your way to his room. You got the chance to say hi to Kuai Liang and even Bi-Han, though all he gave you was a low grumble. He’s funny like that. And of course out of courtesy you said hi to some of the Lin Kuei. But there was one who just had to be a prick.
For some odd reason one of the clansmen didn’t like you. There was no reason, he just didn’t. There are unfortunately some people in this world who are like that. A hatred that festers and they act upon it. And this one did.
You two were so close to his bedroom before you felt a hand grab at the back of your head. You felt your headscarf slip off your head by force. You gasped as your hands went up to cover your head. Tomas looked away while trying to cover your head as well with his hands. He rushed you to his room and ushered you in before closing it shut.
Tomas snapped his head forward to look at the man, no, no man would do such an act. This is a mere boy. He looked at him holding your hijab in his hands. He tried to make a run for it as if he had anywhere to escape. Tomas chucked a smoke bomb hard in his direction which detonated on impact. It left the boy coughing and wheezing. That gave Tomas enough time to use his smoke magic to sneak up on him and pummel him to the ground. He mindlessly attacked him but not to the point he was in critical conditions. No, he wanted him to stay conscious to feel the point of Tomas’ karambit poking at his chin. When the smoke cleared up the boy was staring up at Tomas with fear. He knew it wasn’t worth it and let go of your hijab. Tomas got off him, keeping an eye on him as he took your headscarf back. All the ruckus alerted Bi-Han and the others and they came running to see what happened.
“What is the meaning of this, Tomas?” Bi-Han growled.
“This person is dishonorable in every way. He is unworthy to be in the Lin Kuei. He is unworthy in every single way. He should know better than to harass someone who has done nothing wrong.” Tomas still stared down at the boy with fury.
Bi-Han saw your hijab in his adopted brother’s hands. He put two and two together and figured out the situation. For once he agreed with Tomas’ actions. He grabbed the lowlife by the back of their uniform and started to walk towards the exit. He threw the person out with no mercy before yelling,
“You are hereby banished from the Lin Kuei!”
Tomas quickly went back to you. He knocked on the door and when you cracked open the door a little he handed you your hijab. It took you a bit to put it back on but once you did you cracked open the door again to let him know he can come in.
He ran in, shut the door, and brought you into a hug.
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. Please tell me you’re okay. Forgive the Lin Kuei this is not the way we are.” He apologized and begged for your forgiveness as if it was his fault.
“Tomas, you did nothing wrong. I know this is not how your clan is. I’m just shocked this would happen.”
“I won’t ever let this happen to you again. And if it does I’ll hunt them down to the ends of the earth. You don’t deserve to go through that again.”
He kept hugging you and placing kisses on your forehead. It helped calm your nerves down.
Seeing Tomas act so quickly to defend you and get your hijab back showed how much he loves you. If you actually saw what he did you would see he would even kill for you. You knew you’re in safe hands right now. He didn’t want that incident to spoil your guys time together so he made the most out of the day.
Soon after the Lin Kuei came around to apologize as well for that one member’s actions. Even Kuai Liang and Bi-Han apologized. Bi-Han especially since he is the grandmaster. You let them know you understand it’s not them and you appreciate their apologies. It gave Tomas the idea of how you guys could spend the day together. He and a few other clansmen taught you how to defend yourself to make sure you can keep yourself safe. It was quite useful and you were happy with the time you were spending with Tomas. In a way this is to show he is always protecting you whether it be by his hands or yours.
You certainly have a great man by your side.
Kuai Liang
Lovely weather has made itself present in Japan. Now is a good time to take a break from the Shirai Ryu and spend time with you.
You and Kuai Liang both wanted to explore Japan more since he started creating a clan here. Kanazawa seemed like a good please to start. Specifically Kenrokuen garden. The garden is beautiful all year round. He said he would love to go to a place that matches your eternal beauty.
The cherry blossoms were in bloom at the moment so it was lovely to see them blowing in the wind. Taking in the sight of nature made you feel tranquil. You walked with your arms wrapped around Kuai Liang’s arm. He would translate whatever you needed to be translated so that you understood everything around you. Cause you certainly needed to know about the Karasaki pine trees. You have never seen such strange trees before.
As much as Kuai Liang was admiring the scenery he was admiring you as well.
Yet even a calm place like the garden can’t help those who lack decency. I guess there will always be the disrespectful ones in places that honor respect. And to think this mentality came from a foreigner.
It happened unexpectedly and suddenly. One moment you were looking up at the cranes that flied high in the skin and the next you feel your hijab slipping off your head. At first it was slipping away gently which made you think it was loose. But then it was yanked off and you were left stunned by the action.
Kuai Liang didn’t see your head but he did see a man run past you with your hijab in his hand. You put your hands up to hide your head to the best of your abilities. Kuai Liang immediately took action against the scum.
Suddenly the person felt a rope tighten around their waist. It was like a snake was wrapped around them. They felt a tug and before they could even look back they heard a deep and anger-filled yell.
“Get over here!”
Kuai Liang yanked his roped kunai back. Dragging the perpetrator towards him. Everything went by so fast the person didn’t have time to avoid Kuai Liang’s harsh kick. That kick could have snapped the spine and cause spinal fluids to spill out. They slammed down against the ground with a loud groan. Kuai Liang stomped on him to keep him in place before scolding him.
“Show some respect. Do you have no sense of worth? Only those who are low and weak do such actions.” Kuai Liang insulted him before taking your headscarf back.
He held it out behind him for you to take. Luckily some other female visitors saw the situation and tried to hide you just in case anyone else came around. They handed the hijab back to you for you to put back on. After a few moments they alerted Kuai Liang that it was all good. He looked back at you before taking your hands into his.
“I’m sorry this happened to you. Today should have been a peaceful day. If only I knew there would be dishonorable men walking around.” He took another jab at the man.
“It’s not your fault, Kuai Liang. I’m just glad you got my hijab back. I don’t know what would have happened if he got away.” There was still worry in your voice from thinking about the possibility.
“I guess we won’t know now. And we will never know because I will make sure no man does such things to you. You deserve so much more in this world.” He gave you a kiss on your forehead while his thumb rubbed against your hand.
The confidence in his voice made you certain that his words are true. You trust that he will do you right no matter what. That’s how Kuai Liang is.
“Perhaps we should head somewhere else. I would hate for us to be disturbed again. Would you like to explore the Nishi Chaya district?”
You nodded your head, you could go for some tea right about now.
Kuai Liang quickly wrapped up his rope and took your hand again as you ventured on. The lowlife was left on the ground with the women who helped you to berate him even more. You couldn’t understand what they were saying but they sure put some spice into their attitude.
You were just glad to end the day on a good note by going to a tea house. You enjoyed your tea while having the opportunity to try some desserts. You always wanted to try dango and warabimochi! You certainly felt better with the fact that Kuai Liang was looking at you with the most loving and caring expression.
He really cares for you and he wants you to have many great experiences in your life. And to see you now calm with your cheeks full of sweets is the best view he could have. He’ll make sure he can always have this beautiful view of you.
You are just grateful to have a man like Kuai Liang. One who is always willing to protect you without a second guess. And one who will buy you some good desserts.
After notes: I’m sorry your friend had to deal with that. I’m hoping this is good enough. If not I could try to do it again. If I got some details wrong notify me in any way so I can edit things. But I hope this will bring her comfort.
#mortal kombat#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat1#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mk x reader#mk x you#mk fanfic#tomas vrbada x reader#tomas vrbada x you#tomas x you#tomas x reader#tomas vrbada smoke#tomas vrbada#kung lao x you#kung lao x reader#kung lao mk1#mk kung lao#kung lao mortal kombat#kung lao#kuai liang x you#kuai liang x reader#mk1 kuai liang#kuai liang#scorpion x you#scorpion x reader#mk scorpion
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hey maureen how can roger penske even own indycar in the first place my researches have been inconclusive and I trust you for storytelling of historical narratives better than anyone whether they're a century old or not
hi anon, I'm so glad you asked! buckle up while I give you the briefest, most straightforward history of sanctioning bodies for American Open-Wheel motorsport and you'll definitely be like "why is this even relevant" but it (mostly) is, I promise (the stuff that isn't relevant is just interesting and makes you realize that motorsport history does generally just operate on a time loop basically) (Adding this: I do talk about motorsport deaths in here so if that’s something that bothers you, pls keep scrolling. Fwiw, I do stay as vague as possible)
So in the very beginning, (1899!) a group of rich men formed a little club called the Automobile Club of America (otherwise known as ACA). Now don't let the name fool you because it was more or less, a small, local organization. The ACA was a founding arm of the American Automobile Association (otherwise known as the AAA), which happened in 1902. The AAA formed a contest board and sanctioned the Vanderbilt Cup (which was like The Big Race at this point).
Well, in 1907, AAA raised their dues and that pissed the ACA off so their response was essentially, "I see your Vanderbilt Cup and we're going to do the American Grand Prize" which pissed the AAA off and there was a Whole Thing that eventually ended up with an agreement that AAA would sanction all American races while the ACA would sanction all international events held on American soil (think like modern day F1 type races).
SO that essentially meant that AAA was in charge and oh boy, they were IN CHARGE. Bless their hearts, if a driver did a non-AAA sanctioned race (like say, a local dirt track race or a hill climb), the AAA would SUSPEND the driver from all AAA races, often for a full year (which was a big deal because it would prevent that driver from participating in the Indy 500 and if they continued to participate in 'outlaw' races, the AAA would just straight up revoke the driver's racing license). Essentially what started to happen is that young drivers would start to race on the local dirt tracks, gain 'outlaw' status and when they were ready, they would ask AAA for forgiveness and to gain their racer's license because AAA was more lenient to drivers who didn't already have a license.
Anyway, alls that to say is that the AAA was completely separate from everything, including (and especially) the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
So what changed?
Well. 1955 happened.
I am not even being dramatic when I say that it is no less than a miracle that motorsport as a whole survived 1955.
May 1955 saw Manny Ayulo die in a crash while practicing for the Indianapolis 500 (mind you, he was found to not be wearing his seatbelt), then ten days later, Alberto Ascari, Ferrari F1 World Champion was killed in a test session. AND THEN, Bill Vukovich, defending two-time Indy 500 champion (he had won the two previous) was leading the race and he was involved in a chain reaction crash that killed him and that -- listen, I think there is a misconception that in the past when drivers died, there was no backlash but there absolutely was and the public was horrified that this had happened.
And then -- because things weren't going badly enough -- approximately two weeks later, the racing world turned to watch Le Mans and at approximately 6:20 pm, at the end of the 35th lap, there was a (admittedly much smaller than Indy) chain reaction wreck that launched Pierre Levegh and his Mercedes towards the crowd. The car slammed into an embankment and there was so much force that a lot of the pieces of this car just kept going... right into a stand of spectators, killing at least 80 and injuring at least 120 more. I can talk more at length about the Le Mans disaster (which is what it's generally referred to as) but I do want to caution everybody because there are gruesome pictures on the internet, including ones where Pierre Levegh's body is more or less visible.
This triggered a whole chain reaction of events that had (and in some cases continue to have) long lasting impacts on all motorsports (which again, I would love to dig into if people are interested but for the sake of this essay, I will be brief and focused -- two things I'm really good at LMAO).
But the impact that I'm going to highlight here is that the AAA decided that at the conclusion of the 1955 racing season, they would no longer sanction any events.
WELL that is a Big Problem because AAA didn't only sanction the Indy 500, they sanctioned A LOT of races of various motorsport disciplines (not NASCAR though, they are completely separate). So Tony Hulman, owner of IMS, along with other midwest promotors formed what was initially called the "Temporary Emergency Committee" which ultimately ended up being called the United States Auto Club (USAC). And guess who owned it? Tony Hulman!
So USAC essentially becomes the be all, end all of what they called "Championship Car Racing" which is now what we think of as IndyCar. So USAC and IMS are owned by the same person. What could go wrong?
Well obviously lots go wrong and really the main reason that there even is the IndyCar Split (and the reason things got so bad) was because the same people owned IMS AND the Sanctioning Body. There are other things at play including Tony Hulman's sudden death and Elmer George's justified homicide and a plane crash but the core issue did ultimately boil down to the fact that the same person owned IMS and the sanctioning body and the Indy 500 was being placed above everything else to the detriment of everybody else (basically)
Anyway so like when Tony George forms the IRL (Indy Racing League), that takes over as the sanctioning body for the Indy 500. When IRL and Champ Whatever it was called by then merged back together in 2008, it was all done under the IRL stuff which meant the Hulman-George family still owned IndyCar, the series, as well as IMS/the Indy 500.
So in 2019, they sold both IMS/Indy 500 AND the IndyCar Series to Roger Penske. I wish they would have not done that because I think it would be better for American Open Wheel Racing if there was somebody independently looking out for their interests BUT things are so intertwined and the Indy 500 is such a powerful chip to have, I guess I don't know if it would ultimately matter who owned IndyCar?
So yeah, that is how Roger Penske could even buy IndyCar.
I hope this is clear enough and as always, I am willing to clarify anything/everything!
#grace is that you#im just not sure who else would call me maureen#motorsport history#Kate's history lessons#also holy shit i did try hard to be brief i promise
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Ambient Spells
The idea of the ambient spell isn’t so uncommon. My use of the word “ambient” may throw you for a bit of a loop. An ambient spell is any spell that permeates a space in an unobtrusive way. They affect the area surrounding their vessel and require little to no maintenance or upkeep. They’re long-term workings that require varying levels of effort to put together and cast. Depending on what exactly you need, they can be as simple as setting out a bowl of salt or as complex as crafting a home decor piece from scratch.
I always recommend making ambient spells that are self-fueling. I often refer to them also as “set it and forget it” spells. They’re the crockpot of spellwork — work up front for a slow burn output.
Chances are that you’re already aware of or even know how to create ambient spells. Any spell that affects the vibe of a room, for example, would count as an ambient spell. Lighting incense specifically to invite in positive energy counts. A ward that sucks up baneful magic and transforms it into blessings also counts. The primary idea of an ambient spell is that it’s making a change to your environment in the background. It’s the cool breeze in summertime, the subtle piano at a fancy restaurant, the scent of fresh-baked cookies fading as the day goes by. Positive, but not overt.
When to Use (or Not Use) an Ambient Spell
By their nature, ambient spells are fairly general workings. They can be quite powerful, of course, just like any other spell. The thing to keep in mind is that they’re not ideal for targeted magic.
For example, I wouldn’t create an ambient spell to banish someone from my life. I might make an ambient spell to make an area unwelcoming to them, or to anyone who would do me harm. The unwelcoming vibe might discourage them from coming around, sure. But it may not work outside of the area the spell lives in; and it may not get rid of them for good.
Similarly, an ambient spell might make a good general ward for keeping out loud, unwelcome spirits, but it wouldn’t specifically cast out the one particular spirit who’s been causing problems. It might discourage their behavior, but it wouldn’t necessarily get rid of them. A concentrated, single-use banishing spell would work significantly better for that purpose. Afterwards, an ambient spell can keep the area clear of that spirit’s influence.
I also wouldn’t use an ambient spell to draw in specific success. General success or money, absolutely — whatever wants to come my way is welcome, via a basic money bowl set up next to my wallet. But if I specifically want a promotion or a particular amount of money, I’m not going to leave that to the ambient money spell. I would craft a spell specifically for what I’m looking for.
When deciding what kind of spell to cast, keep this idea in mind. An ambient spell is best for behind-the-scenes results that happen without your concentrated effort. When you want something specific, a more targeted spell will work better nine times out of ten.
Creating an Ambient Spell
It’s possible to create an ambient spell with nothing but energy work. However, I often find that these fade quickly and don’t lend themselves well to self-fueling. They tend to need more active upkeep than I prefer for a spell that’s meant to be set and let go. I recommend choosing an appropriate vessel of some kind to contain the spell to help it last longer.
How do you decide what’s an appropriate vessel, though? And how do you set one up? How do you make a spell self-fueling? Let’s start from the top and go in order.
Identify the Purpose
Decide what the spell will do. This is going to define the components and the way you’re going to cast the spell.
In my experience, ambient spells work best when they’re given a single purpose. For example, I wouldn’t make a spell that’s a ward and a cleanser and a spirit welcome mat. It dilutes the purpose. Choose a single, clear motive for the spell.
Choose a Vessel
Now that you know what your spell will do, it’s time to decide what it’s going to look like. The vessel you choose should reflect the spell’s purpose in some way.
An open bowl works well for absorbing energy. Why? It’s open. The face of it is open to the room, ready to take in whatever kind of energy you assign to its contents.
A closed jar, on the other hand, would be good for repelling. It’s closed off and sealed — a one-way road going out of the jar and into the room to clear it.
A wreath hung at the door could serve a lot of purposes, depending on what it’s made with. I would use a wreath as an agent of transformation or as an energy emitter to release a certain energy into the space.
A stone makes a solid vessel for protection or grounding. I have one on my working altar to help keep me in the moment and create a good environment for working magic.
When you’re choosing your spell vessel, keep in mind how visible you want it to be. Certain vessels are going to naturally be more obvious than others. A wreath, for example, is hard to miss — but it also just looks like nice home decor. A jar full of herbs and things would be more obviously a spell, but they can be small and easily hidden.
I have both obvious and hidden ambient spells peppered around my home for varying purposes. If you’re keeping your practice a secret, you’ll likely want to keep your spells more obscure or hidden. But if you aren’t, and you can make the choice of whether you want the spell to be in plain sight or not, consider the effect you want the spell to have.
If you want the spell to absorb bad vibes, baneful magics, the evil eye, or other negativity, a hidden spell might serve you well. Hiding the vessel somewhere means that whoever’s casting against you may not expect the resistance. On the other hand, if you want a vessel that allows friendly spirits to visit you during the holidays, a beautiful centerpiece on your dining table that’s charmed with spirit-friendly magic might serve the purpose.
Choose an Energy Source
Ambient spells need to draw energy from somewhere. Think of it like a battery. The ingredients you put into the spell may provide a temporary charge, but if you want the spell to be long-term, it needs an input. How will your spell recharge itself?
If you want the spell to be shorter-term, only a few days or so, then you can skip this step. But if you want an ambient spell to last a while, like a ward or vibe-adjuster, you’ll need to think about this carefully.
Like when choosing the vessel, the energy source should match the purpose of the spell. For example, I have a simple room refresher spell set on a table that’s central to my home. The purpose of it is to take anxiety and negative thoughts to turn them into positivity. I set it up so that the act of walking past the bowl swirls the air around it, and therefore also the energy around it. That kinetic energy fuels the bowl’s magic and keeps it going. I don’t have to actively recharge the bowl or its contents, because we walk past it constantly.
Another example would be an ambient spell to help you do the dishes. (Whether that’s remembering to do them or finding the motivation for it is up to you.) The fuel for the spell could be the act of walking into or past the kitchen, running water elsewhere in the home, or even cooking or eating.
The energy source could also be something like lighting a candle next to or over the vessel on a schedule, if you prefer. This would add an upkeep step, of course, and wouldn’t be my first choice. The only ambient spell I do this with is my money bowl, and that’s because it’s tuned to be able to shift focus from day to day depending on what exactly I need (commissions versus tips versus discounts, etc.).
Setting Up an Ambient Spell
Decide where you want to place your spell’s vessel ahead of time. If you have pets or kids, make sure you put whatever it is out of their reach. If the vessel is something like an uncovered bowl, you’ll want to be sure that it isn’t going to get knocked over. Similarly, if it’s made of glass, you don’t want it to fall and shatter. If your vessel needs to be hidden somehow, determine where you’ll keep it. It would be smart to make note of where the spell is and what it looks like in your grimoire or spell notebook just so that if you forget about it, you can identify it later on down the road.
After you know where you want to put it, it’s time to choose ingredients and fill your vessel. The components you decide on should, obviously, match your goals.
Casting an ambient spell is much the same as casting a regular spell. The only thing to keep in mind is that an ambient spell has a sort of prolonged release.
Upkeep and Care of an Ambient Spell
For the most part, ambient spells should require little to no upkeep. With that said, you should still do routine check-ups on them. I include them in my regular rounds when I check on my wards and various protections, but you could do yours whenever it makes the most sense to you.
Depending on how you decided to fuel your spell, you may need to do a bit of feeding. Whether that’s lighting a new candle, refilling a cup of water, mixing around a pile of herbs, or giving the vessel a little shake, do so anytime it feels like the spell’s energy is flagging. It may take some practice in sensing energy to know exactly when a spell needs refueling. This is partly why I suggest creating a schedule to check in on the spell; ambient spells are a great type to practice sensing spell energy, since they’re typically long-lasting and may wax or wane depending on the day.
If your spell is fully self-fueling and it doesn’t seem to be working anymore (or at all, even from the start), it’s time to take it apart. Discard disposable components according to your practice’s tenets. Cleanse the rest for future use. I would suggest washing your spell vessel alongside magical cleansing.
A Ready-to-Use Example
Here’s an extremely simple example of an ambient spell I use in my home to keep the main living area light, fresh, and conducive to getting work done. Since both my partner and I work from home, it’s important that our areas have an aura of focus.
Materials:
- A small bowl, preferably green or brown
- Enough salt to fill the bowl halfway
- A few pinches of dried rosemary
Instructions:
1. Ensure the bowl is clean and dry. Pour salt into the bowl until it’s halfway full.
2. Sprinkle dried rosemary into the salt and stir.
3. Instruct the spell, in whatever way makes sense to you, to exude focused but calm energy into the space.
4. Place the bowl in an area that is frequently trafficked.
5. Leave the bowl in place until it no longer provides a fresh, focused energy to the space. Dispose of the contents, clean the bowl, and reset the spell.
Notes:
- This spell is powered by movement specifically, because both my partner and I work from home, and we pace when we’re having a hard time focusing. The spell draws in the energy from our pacing and the frustration we’re putting out to fuel itself. It then transforms and releases the energy as calm, focus, and productivity.
- I suggest a green or brown bowl because this spell is meant to work for our jobs. Green for success, brown for grounding. Personally, my bowl has both colors.
- When instructing the spell, you can speak to the bowl, write a petition, do an incantation, or whatever else you like. This is the most personal part of the spell, and it’s what makes the thing Go. It’s up to you to decide how it’s going to work.
Final Thoughts
I would hesitate to call ambient spells “low energy” spellwork. While they can be low-energy-friendly in the long run, and they can be extremely simple to set up (such as the one I described above), they aren’t always. Ambient spells do require an up-front energy cost. Even so, I find them very rewarding and useful.
Folks who visit my home often comment that it’s an inviting, friendly, good-natured space where they can leave their worries and anxieties behind. That’s on purpose. I’ve got ambient spells in place that eat up anxiety and spit out positivity. I’ve got ones that repel hexes and are charged by sunlight. All of these spells are long-lasting and well worth the effort it took to create them.
I hope this little guide is useful to you! If you’ve got questions, feel free to send me an ask. I’m happy to ramble about ambient spells or other types of magic as much as you’d like.
And if you did enjoy this post, consider dropping a couple dollars in my tip jar! Supporters of all types (tips, commissions, shop purchases, and memberships) get early access to posts like this, sometimes up to two weeks early, and every bit helps me keep the lights on.
#aese speaks#spells#spellwork#my spells#witchblr#witchcraft#witch community#beginner witch#ambient spells#practical magic
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A picture-Perfect Hello.
Spencer Reid picture-perfect.
Spencer Reid had no idea when he came home from a long case that his new neighbor would be the love of his life. And together they would create the picture-perfect life.
A four-part series.
Warning Contains spoilers for Season 13 as well as Season 12. Post prison Spencer Reid.
Ages 18 and over. Contains oral sex. Penetrative sex. Reader on birth control pills.
Spencer came home from a long case. A six Day one to be exact. He was surprised to see a pile of boxes sitting in the hallway in front of an apartment building that he assumed was still to be empty when he came back home. It's not that he didn't want new neighbors. He just didn't expect there to be any, given that that apartment has been vacant for the past seven months.
he was So exhausted from the trip back home that he really just wanted to go to sleep. But he knows that that would be rude not to even try to offer Any help to his new neighbor. So he unlocked his door and put his satchel inside. Going over to the refrigerator to grab something to drink, leaving the front door open So he could see if the new neighbor passed by. After a few minutes, he decided to shut the front door and go stand out in the hall. He made it to the front of his sofa before he saw a pile of boxes walking by his door.
"Oh, here, let me help you" he said, running out of his door.
" Oh my gosh, thank you so much that this so kind of you." He heard a woman's voice coming from behind the pile of boxes.
" Sure, no problem. Let me just grab these" he said, pulling two boxes off the top of the pile.
Spencer couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the woman that was behind the box. a Brunette with Short hair. And blue eyes.
" Hello" he managed to get out. " My name is Spencer, Spencer Reid. I live in this apartment right here". He told her, using his thumb to point back at the door.
" Hello my name is y/n It's so nice to meet you. I didn't know if anybody lived in this apartment. I've been moving in for the past two days and I haven't seen you."
" I was at work. I.. I'm, I'm an FBI agent, so I wasn't home for six days."
" Ohh wow. An FBI agent? That must be really exciting."
" It can be. It has its moments that it's exciting. Yes, I, you know, I I definitely enjoy the work that I do, putting away the bad guys and all that. Definitely rewarding, yes. Kind of tiring though as well if I'm being honest. But still, it's.. it's really nice work." Spencer began to ramble.
" Would you like to come in and put those boxes down?"
" Boxes? Ohh yes yes. But I would love to put the boxes down" Spencer answered, not even realizing anymore that he was holding boxes.
" Just try to find a place to put them down at. I'm sorry I haven't really officially moved in yet. I'm staying with a friend of mine while I get everything out of my dirtbag ex boyfriend's apartment." She explained to Spencer she was waving her finger around the room with her other hand on her hip.
"Oh, sure, no problem. It it's going to take some time to move in. I'm sorry about your boyfriend."
" Oh, don't be. He was a lousy piece of crap that wasn't even any good in bed. I mean, it is seriously Exhausting having to fake orgasms all the time. It would have been nice if I could have had a real one during the two years we were together." She huffed out angrily.
Spencer's face must have lost all color or the opposite turned as red as a strawberry when she was saying this. As she stopped right in her tracks and they started apologizing.
" Oh my God, I am so sorry. I don't know why I said that. I mean, I just met you like what, 5 minutes ago if that. And here I am already talking like this. Please forgive me. I understand if you don't want to help me bring in any more boxes and if you want to pretend that I don't even live here, I completely understand. Have a tendency to over share my feelings when I'm angry and Needless to say, I'm angry."
" no need to apologize. I understand you being angry and you know, I hear a lot of stuff being an FBI agent. Plus I do have three women on our team, so, you know, I I hear things."
"Wow. Three women on your team. That's impressive. I just assumed that the FBI thought that that was men's work. You know? Good to see that we're making a little progress in the world."
" Ohh no. The FBI is full of women. You really have made a lot of progress in the work world. You know, it's been statistically proven that women are more effective at catching serial killers than men in some cases." He Explained to her.
" Really? well. I guess if you piss us off enough, we'll hunt you down."
" I guess you could say that, yes. Uh, there's three agents that I work with that are women. And then there's our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. She's wonderful as well."
" Well, that's good. Got to get rid of those bad guys, right? And bad ladies, I'm sure as well."
"Yep" He said, rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels. Kind of uncomfortable now that the conversation has ended.
" So do you have more boxes you need me to help you bring in or?" He asked, waving his hands around nervously.
" Yes, I do. I have five more boxes out in the car."
" OK, well here let me help you with that."
"So does you being an agent mean that I'm not going to see you much? Because that would be really sad. I think you're really cute. And you obviously are smart."
"OH no. I'm home when I can be most of the time. And if I'm not home or out on a case, I spent a lot of time on a jet too. You know, going to the crime scenes. It's a lot easier for me when it's local because then I get to come back home. It gets a little tiring having to be in hotels all the time. Sometimes it's really nice to just come home to the comfort of your own apartment and bed, you know?"
"It is."
After Spencer helped her bring in the rest of her boxes, she went over to a box marked kitchen and pulled out a coffee pot.
" Would you like some coffee? I love coffee and I can't live without it." Asked, holding up her pink coffee maker.
" Really. I love coffee too. Yes, I.. I.. I would love some. My friends always put me down. Well, my my coworkers. But they're like my friends. Actually. They're like my family. They make fun of me sometimes for loving coffee so much."
" Why would they Make fun of you for that?. Oh well. Between you and me, we could probably empty out the entire state of coffee beans."
" Yeah, we probably could." He said with a big grin on his face.
" So how long have you lived here?" She asked him.
" 14 years."
"Wow, 14 years. That's amazing. Must be really nice here. Well, for the amount of time that you hear, I guess you couldn't really judge."
" Well, I've been here long enough, yeah, to know that. That's. It really is nice. Yeah, but you're right, the amount of time that I'm actually here for. Really can't judge, but sometimes I am here for a week at a time."
She walks into the kitchen and plugs in the coffee pot.
" I know exactly where my coffee beans are. They're in that box over there marked coffee."
" Spencer Looks over at the box. "Ohh here let me get it for you."
" Thank you. You're such a gentleman. I mean, not only helping me move in, but also helping me make coffee. You'll find mugs in that same box, by the way."
When Spencer opens the box, he sees 5 bags of coffee and seven mugs.
" Ohh wow my friend Penelope. She would love your mugs. She's the queen of coffee mugs. Although in her case sometimes it's also hot tea, so mugs in general."
" I think I'd really get along with this, Penelope."
" She is wonderful." Spencer tells her where the chuckle.
Spencer hands her a bag of coffee, a pack of coffee filters and two mugs. A pink mug with a rainbow on it and a black mug that says I love coffee.
" I think this will be my favorite mug" he told her, holding up the one that says I love coffee.
" Well then, we will make that your special mug for when you come over, and that is if you want to ever come back."
" I want to come back. I I look forward to it."
Spencer Reid being a man of science, never really believed in love at first sight. But there's something about her he feels that he could spend the rest of his life with, even though he's only known her for about an hour tops at this point.
"You know, if you come back tomorrow, I have been known to make some pretty good muffins. By then I should be able to find my baking stuff. But that is only if you would like to. I understand. If you don't want to, it's. Completely understandable."
" No, not at all. I would love to come over. Muffins sound really good. Muffins and coffee? That's. That's really good. Yeah." He said with a chuckle, so happy that she would like for him to come back.
" OK then uh 8:00 be OK?"
" That'd be great. I don't start teaching until 10:00, so. 8:00 would be good."
" I thought you were an FBI agent".
"Ohh. Well, yeah, I ...I am. I am an FBI agent. But I also teach sometimes because I'm not Fully on the team at the moment, but that's a that's a long story for. Another time so". Spencer said nervously. What was she going to think if she asked him why he wasn't on the team full time? What if she doesn't like that he was in prison even though he didn't really commit the crime he was arrested for?
" OK, well, another time it is."
" So I can be here at 8:00." Spencer asked, wringing his hands.
" Unless 7:30 would be better for you."
" 7:30 would be great. That would be great. That would give me half hour more to be able to get ready to go and teach my class."
" OK, 7:30 it is. I should already be started by the muffins, by then"
" Great" Spencer said.
" Do you take your coffee?"
"Black with sugar." Spencer answered, placing the two Mugs next to the coffee maker that was just about done.
" Black with sugar, You got it."
There was a little bit of awkward silence as the coffee finished brewing. Before y/n Poured 2 mugs of it, adding the sugar into both mugs and going over to the refrigerator to get some Creamer.
" I know it's strange. I already have Creamer in my refrigerator, but says I said I've been moving in for a few days, so I don't really know why I have Creamer in my refrigerator. Didn't even have my coffee maker yet, but I'm a weird one. "
" Not at all. " Spencer said.
After the coffees had been made, the two of them sat down at her little kitchen table.
" You know, this table was actually left behind from the previous renter. I don't know why, but hey, I was happy to have it. " y/n said.
" Yes, well left behind furniture is always good. Unfortunately, nothing came with my apartment. "
" Wow. Usually somebody leaves something behind. " she says taking a sip of coffee.
" So can I ask what you do? Or do you not have a job yet in between jobs?"
" Ohh yes, I'm a Blogger."
" Spencer said, not really knowing what that was.
"Do you know what that is?" She asked him. Putting down her mug.
"No, not really. I'm sorry."
"No problem. I have a blog. It's a computer thing. It's on the Internet. It's a page Where I show you how to do things like highlight your hair and things I used to do. I also show a lot of cooking things, like how to make the muffins I'm going to make tomorrow, along with other things that I make."
" Oh, so you teach people how to do things via the Internet?"
" Yes, exactly."
" Ohh like life's important things like faking orgasms." He said with a chuckle as he took his first sip of coffee.
y/n Almost spit her coffee out at his response.
" Yes, exactly. I I really did do one of those. It was my most popular video to date, actually." She told him, laughing.
" Well, at least you're helping people with the important things in the world. Ohh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I really need to be getting to work. Umm, so I can come back tomorrow, right?"
"Absolutely. I look forward to it."
After Spencer went to teach another class, knowing that people really weren't going to be paying him any attention anyway. He was just kind of going through the motions. His mind, even though he was trying to teach about serial killers, just kept going back to His beautiful new neighbor and how he couldn't wait to get back to her apartment tomorrow.
Once class was over and he stopped at the grocery store to pick up something for him to eat for dinner. He went back home. He was so tempted to knock on his neighbor's door to see how she was doing. Or really just to see her face again. To ask her if she would like to come over and share his dinner, but he didn't want to be too forward, she said. I'll see you tomorrow morning, so tomorrow morning it would be.
He ate his dinner, took his shower, got in his pajamas, brushed his teeth and went to bed. Unfortunately though, for Spencer, sleep did not come easily to him. He just kept thinking about the beautiful woman next door. But was she doing? Was she sleeping? Was she lying awake, thinking about him, The way he was laying awake? Thinking about her?
He really needs to stop these Thoughts that are running through his head and try to get some sleep morning would come soon enough and he would be at her front door again, tapping on the wood, waiting to get inside.
Eventually, morning came and he did just the thing that he said he was going to do, ran out his front door before smoothening out any wrinkles that may be on his sweater. Before knocking lightly on her wooden front door.
" I'm coming, he heard being shouted from The other side of the door. He waited for a few seconds before he heard the deadbolt on lock the door opening, revealing the woman that he's awaiting all night to see. Wearing a light pink tank top and a purple apron. That had some baking flour stuck to it.
In all honesty, she was so beautiful and the fact that she was making muffins for him, it took all he had not to drop to one knee right now and ask her to marry him. It wasn't just because she would serve him muffins. It was because no one was willing to make anything like this for Spencer and his entire life. And even though he had only met this woman one day prior, he knew he was in love with her. He knew that this was the woman that he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.
" Hi, come on in. I'm so sorry I had to run to the store. So I'm a little bit later making the muffins and I thought I was going to be. I didn't have any flower. I forgot that I threw it at my ex when he told me that he didn't need my cooking anymore. It was juvenile, I know. But it was in the heat of the moment. So I just threw it at him."
" Oh, wow. OK, no problem. Take your time. If if you don't have the time to make the muffins right now, it's OK. I can come back tomorrow."
" Ohh no no, she cut him off. I have the flour, I'm just measuring it out now."
"OK, sure, can I help you make the muffins? I've never really baked anything before."
" Really. You would like to help me make muffins? OH my gosh yes. Thank you so much. I would love for you to do that. You know my boyfriend Will, my ex sorry-ass boyfriend never would have offered to help cook with me. He thought that cooking and baking was stupid and that it was just. Useless hobby."
" Well, that's not nice. Baking is a wonderful hobby. Cooking. We all need to eat to survive, right? So he didn't have any right to pick on you for that. I'm so sorry that he was like that to you. I promise I will never be that way to you. I mean, not that we're a couple. You know, I'm not presuming that you would want to be in a relationship with me. I'm just saying if it should ever come to that, I wouldn't be that kind of boyfriend. I'd be loving and supportive and help you with anything that you wanted." He began rambling.
" That would be wonderful, you know, if we ended up being together and cooked together, married one day. Just think. We would tell our children how we met and they would think it was so sweet."
Now Spencer's mind was really racing again. She's considering a life with him. She's actually thinking about a life with him and having children with him and telling them about how they met one day.
" Spencer?" He heard her saying.
"yes?" he answered.
" Would you like to come into the kitchen and help me?"
"Oh, Oh my gosh. Yes, yes, I would love to. OK, umm, So what do you need me to do?"
" Well, unfortunately I don't have a spare apron. And if you're planning on wearing this Sweater. You may not want to mess with the flour, but you can wash off the blueberries for me.
"Oh yes, of course." Spencer said, opening up the pints of blueberries and pouring them into a pink strainer to wash them off.
" I'm so sorry that you have to wait longer for the muffins because I forgot to get flour.
" It's OK. I'm actually happy that it happened because now I get to be a part of the muffin making process." Her as he finished straining the rest of the water off of the blueberries.
" That's so sweet, you can take and dump them into the bowl right there with the sugar."
The two of them stood side-by-side preparing muffin batter.
Before placing the batter into baking cups and putting them in the oven. y/n Pouring some coffee for them while they wait.
" So how did you sleep last night?" She asked, putting the two mugs of coffee down.
How did I sleep? OH my gosh how can I tell her that I couldn't sleep? Because all I could think about was her. How much I wanted to come back over here and see her. How I know she's the love of my life. How can I tell her that without her thinking that I'm crazy? Spencer thought to himself.
" I slept rather well, thank you." He told her he feels so bad about lying to her, but how can he tell her about his true feelings without scaring her away?
Once the muffins were done and they started eating them, it was the most delicious blueberry muffin Spencer had ever had.
" These are incredible" he told her before stuffing and other piece into his mouth.
" Thank you so much. I'm so glad that you like them. You know, I also make coffee cakes and strudels and stuff like that, so, you know, I could keep feeding you if you're interested."
If Spencer could have his way, he would make breakfast with her every day for the rest of his life.
" I would like that. he told her with a smile.
The next two weeks went on like this, meeting every day. Went to teach, unfortunately his teacher. Come to an end and he was forced to go back to the station.
" I'm back on FBI time now, so I may be gone for a little while. I'll let you know if I have a case. That way you don't start making something for me and I'm not here to get it." Told her, looking down at his thumbs that he was twiddling.
" OK, well, I'm going to miss you if you have a case, but I have a lot of muffins leftover. Would your team like some?" She asked him.
" I I think they would, yes, they're amazing. And if they don't want them, well, I'll gladly eat them."
" OK, great. I'll pack some up for you."
Spencer reluctantly left her apartment to go to the station, carrying with him a large basket of blueberry muffins. They placed them on the table of the round table room.
Luke came into the room and saw the basket of muffins along with Spencer sitting in his usual chair.
" Hey, welcome back Reid" Luke said to him.
" Hey, Luke. Thanks. It's nice to be back."
" Muffins. Are those for anybody or are they just for you?" Luke asked.
" There For anyone. My new neighbor Likes to bake, so she sent me to work with some muffins for you guys."
" She Ohh. I'm I'm not prying just is she someone that You might be interested in. I'm. I'm not meaning to pry. I just. I worry about you. You know, you go back to your apartment all by yourself and you don't really get any visitors. It would just be nice for you to have someone."
" I really like her, Luke. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to tell her. You know, I know that I'm the age that I am, but I don't have much experience with women. The only girlfriend long term that I really had got murdered in front of me. So I don't know how to talk to women." Spencer said sadly.
" Well reid. I can honestly tell you if a woman is willing to make you muffin's. And allow you into her apartment, I'm assuming."
" She did. I helped her move in."
" Then yes, she likes you." Luke told him before taking a bite of muffin.
" Really?" Spencer asked.
" Yes, really. And if she makes muffins like this my God man, go back home now and ask her to marry you. These are delicious."
Unfortunately for Spencer, he was going to have to wait to see his ladylove again. he had to go away on a case. The next three months' time continued to go this way. He would be home for a day or two enjoying the baked Goods with Her before having to go away on another case. They really didn't get to spend much time together anymore. They were both afraid that the feelings that they had for each other would fizzle away. But maybe, just maybe, people were right. Time apart does make the heart grow fonder. It left them both wondering though. Feel this way about each other. They're just neighbors, and they've never even kissed. Just enjoying talking about things over coffee and baked goods that Spencer often helped make. He really enjoyed the baking process and the fact that it gave him more time to spend with y/n but all of that changed quickly after Spencer finally had some time off since he was teaching again. So she invited him to come over and watch a movie. That was for the best, considering that Spencer really didn't have any movies that weren't foreign films.
"She picked (your favorite movie) To watch She Thought that Spencer would really enjoy it.
" I can't believe you've never seen this movie. I've seen it about 1000 times and can say just about every line with it". She told him.
" Well, I haven't seen very many movies that aren't in foreign languages, so this will be a fun to experience for me."
That night was a turning point in their relationship. As they sat on the sofa together, they realized neither one of them was really interested in the movie. They were more interested in each other. They've been away from each other for too long, and tonight was the night they were finally going to kiss.
However, Spencer Reid being amazing at everything was also in the world's greatest kisser. We've got turned on so much by the kissing that it wasn't long before Spencer was asking against her lips. "Can we take this to the bedroom?"
y/n Moaned a Yes, against his lips.
If Spencer picked her up off the couch and carried her into her bedroom, he knew exactly where it was. Not because he's been to her apartment so many times, but because the layout of her apartment was exactly the same as his own. Before he knew it, he was peeling off her clothes and kissing her passionately.
Shouldn't she was doing the same to him with the same urgency.
However, before Spencer removed her underwear. He asked if it was OK for him to do so.
y/n Couldn't get the word "yes" out fast enough. As soon as she was bare to him, he looked up into her eyes to make sure that She was OK with what he was about to do.
She panted out a yes before he licked right up her center. Causing her to moan out his name. Something that, if he was being honest with himself, was something that he was dying to hear over the past 3 1/2 months.
He took his time with her, loving the way that her fingers felt running through his hair. After he gave her two mind-blowing orgasms, he couldn't wait anymore. He needed to be inside of her.
"Do you have any protection?" He asked her, praying to the gods, anyone of them that she would have something.
"I'm on the pill and I'm clean". She panted out
the smile on his face, almost taking up his entire face at this point.
"Good" he panted out. Before slowly pushing inside of her. They both moaned out at the feeling. Something that they were both longing for, for so long. As he slowly moved inside of her, his fingers intertwining with hers.
The only sounds in the apartment at this point was the sounds of their moans and lips smacking.
" Where do you want me?" Spencer asked y/n Feeling that he was close told him.
" Inside, inside Spencer, I want to feel all of you."
And be more thrilled at these words. They both orgasm together and it was like pure heaven.
Spencer helped her ride out her high, and as he did, he couldn't help but stare into her eyes, seeing how beautiful she is.
Spencer eventually had to pull out. So sad for both of them since they both waited for so long. Both of them hoping that it would happen again.
They laid in her bed. Spencer's arms, holding her tightly to his body.
" Are you sorry that it happened?" Spencer asked sadly. As y/n Hasn't said anything since they orgasmed.
" No, not at all. Are you?" She asked with full of worry.
" No, absolutely not. I was worried that you were going to be sorry. I mean, it's been silence for a little bit." Spencer said with a gulp.
" No, I'm so happy that it happened. I waited for so long, you know, Honestly, I wanted you from the very first time I saw you, but I didn't want you to think that I was Trashy." She told him, running her hand up and down his bare chest.
" I would never think that, and honestly, I was the same way about you." Spencer told her with a smile.
"Who would have ever thought that me walking by with a stack of boxes would have led to this? that just a simple hello would have led to where we are today."
" I know. I guess you could say it was a picture-Perfect Hello." Spencer said before kissing her again.
Thank you so much for reading. Comments will be greatly appreciated and I look forward to writing the rest of this story. there should be another chapter out by the summer.
@thebloomingeagle
#spencer reid#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#mgg#dr reid#reid#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler smut#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler imagine
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For a while—after being exposed to the antiship movement, because goodness knows I didn't care about this when I was younger—I wondered *why* fiction and reality were so different in my head. Why I could happily see things depicted in fiction that would make me sick to my stomach or upset me to tears just from thinking of it happening in real life. I couldn't come up with a reason for this for a while, which caused me distressed and made me worried that I might secretly be a terrible person after all.
But I've done some thinking and I've figured it out. Or, rather, I've returned to the mindset that came so easy to me in the past and probably did to a lot of people before the well was poisoned.
When I see a fictional character, I don't see a person. I don't see a person like *me*, anyway. I see a person within that piece of fiction's universe; a plane of existence that is wholly different from my own. Lines and colour, words on a page, virtual drawings being played sequentially at a speed that simulates movement. Sure, the written passage, 'He had eyes, ears and a mouth' is a representation of what *I* am, and what other people around me are, but it is fundamentally a plane of existence that is *alien* to me.
An alien is something that is decidedly not human. I feel empathy for other humans because I can relate to them. I have no desire to hurt them because I either know what it is like to be hurt in that way, or I can imagine what it would be like. I know the harm it would do to them, which illicits a reaction of disgust and apprehension in me. 'That's terrible,' I think, which simply kills any desire to cause any harm to a real person or do any disgusting actions.
This is why predators are such terrible people. They are fully aware of the harm their actions will cause and then go ahead with them anyway.
But with a fictional character, it's different in these ways:
1. First of all, we have to remember that they AREN'T human and so whatever I feel towards them cannot accurately mirror whatever I feel towards real flesh and blood individuals. They're projections of humanity from OTHER people in whatever medium they choose, but fictional characters are—and I cannot stress this enough—NOT HUMAN. If I pull off the head of a Barbie doll, does that mean I have the desire to behead someone in real life? Does it mean that I MUST have the urge to behead someone in real life, because a barbie doll is a 'representation' of a person? Your answer, I'm hoping, is no. Because Barbie is not human.
2. And because fictional characters are not human, I don't have empathy for them. Not REAL empathy, anyway, the type that stops the desire to cause harm. When I 'violate' a fictional character, it illicits at most only superficial disgust because I know that character will not live with the lasting consequences of my actions. They're a projection, a facsimile.
So that might bring you to another question, 'Even if they're not real, why would you WANT to do that to them, anyway?'
That I can't answer. The human brain is weird. Sometimes, people have dark urges. If a kid tosses their Barbie onto the ground and seems to take pleasure in it falling, can that accurately say they want to push a real person onto the ground? If someone seems to enjoy a violent video game like GTA where they can run people over and shoot them to their heart's content, is that a surefire way to know that they want to do those things to real people? I wouldn't say it is. Would you?
The final thing to remember is that it's not completely black and white. A serial killer might have been 'inspired' by a violent horror story, whereas the actual author of that story is a nice, well-adjusted individual. People with the desire to hurt actual humans might make do with projections, but it does not change the fact that they actually want to HARM people. The fiction didn't make them want to do that. They already did, and probably would have even if they didn't discover said fiction. And horrible people CAN make their own 'projections'.
Generally though I believe it is obvious when someone is just playing with dolls, and when someone is exhibiting an actual desire to hurt somebody.
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