#why is that something you could ask someone to do-
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What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?
And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?
This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.
My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.
Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.
And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.
And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.
I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.
As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.
Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.
So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.
Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.
#Big thoughts#Big rambles#These are my current thoughts at least#They will likely change#As all things do
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rewatched 7x05 in its entirety and the entire conversation buck has with maddie is SO funny from maddie's perspective. like.
The FIRST thing he says. NO OTHER CONTEXT. is that he lied to eddie and it's eating him up inside.
Maddie is sitting there thinking like oh boy. lied to eddie??? Ok. what's all this then.
Buck explains about being on a date, running into Eddie and Marisol etc etc etc and after Maddie rules out buck doing something TRULY wild like dating a celebrity or a married woman she's run out of possible options as to like. WHY did Buck lie to Eddie? So ofc she asks him, why did you did that.
Buck is like I don't know.
NOW IF IM MADDIE. sitting here wondering why my baby brother just lied to his bestie about being on a date for no apparent reason. like. She's GOT to be wondering, right??? She's gotta be like. Something has CHANGED between Buck and Eddie and Buck now, out of nowhere, seems to NOT want to tell Eddie he's dating someone. WHATS all this then.
Finally she gets the crucial piece of information that oh yeah, i was on a date with a guy, no big deal maddie NOT THE POINT. obviously i check out hot guys' asses CAN WE PLEASE FOCUS
now things are making sense again. Maddie's like, yeah actually, kind of the point. You felt weird about telling Eddie you were on a date with a guy when no one, not even you, even knew you were interested in guys before. that totally tracks, very reasonable actually.
except then. THEN. Buck reveals the second crucial piece of information. that the guy Buck was on a date with. was Tommy. as in BBPU double-u backslash TOMMY. TOMMY FROM THE CALENDAR TOMMY!!!!!! WHOM. LAST MADDIE CHECKED. IS BUCK'S SOLE RIVAL IN THE BATTLE FOR EDDIE'S ATTENTION THAT HE MADE UP IN HIS HEAD.
at this point, in maddie's head she's gotta be like. ah. my little brother has entered into some kind of insane gay psychodrama of triangulated desire the likes of which patricia highsmith could only dream of. and she's just like well. it seems that your problem might be that you were on a date with a man whom not one week ago you were competing with for your best friend's attention, and now you are lying to said best friend about it and THAT PART is what made you spiral so hard you showed up at my door like a guilty puppy. and frankly. as a woman who is happily nearly-married to the love of my life whom i have a three-year-old with i am not qualified to tell you what the FUCK it is you think you are doing here. so. you should tell eddie your feelings, which you still don't understand, at some point i guess! godspeed little brother
#sibyl speaks#and then one week later buck and his best friend show up to her wedding looking like shit and telling her they LOST HEr HUSbAND#god grant this woman the patience to not throttle her insane bisexual brother
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Meet The Family
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles decided it was a good idea to meet Y/N’s parents before his next Grand Prix, and it turned into meeting the entire extended family.
Warning: bad writing, spelling and grammatical errors, Spanish
A/N: this is the first time we have an established relationship between Charles and Y/N, yay! Their meet cute is inspired by how Billy and Camila met in the show Daisy Jones and The Six
Y/N met Charles at the supermarket in Monaco. Charles was in the produce aisle when someone came behind him.
“Hi, excuse me, can you…?” Y/N started and Charles turned around.
“Sign something for you? Um, I don’t have a pen, do you have one?” Charles asked.
“Uh, I was going to ask if you could move over so I could get some spinach. Or if you could grab the spinach for me, either way, I just need spinach.” Y/N said. Charles felt embarrassed and handed Y/N the spinach. “Thank you.”
“Sorry, but you don’t know who I am?” Charles asked.
“Should I? I’m not from here.” Y/N said.
“I could tell by the American accent. I’m Charles Leclerc.” Charles put his hand out and Y/N shook it.
“Y/N L/N. So tell me, Charles Leclerc, why should I be asking for you to sign something?” Y/N asked teasingly.
“Sorry about that, I swear I am not conceited, it’s just a lot of people in Monaco know me for what I do and I’m always approached with things to sign.” Charles said.
“Okay, and what do you do?” Y/N asked.
“I’m a formula 1 Scuderia Ferrari race car driver.” Charles said. Him and Y/N started walking around the supermarket together, not wanting to block anyone.
“Ooh wow, a race car driver, that’s pretty big. I’m not really into sports in that way. I could bump into a New York Yankee back home and not even know it.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. “So tell me why are you here at the supermarket? I assume you would have a private chef that takes care of all the cooking and grocery shopping.” Y/N said.
“You would think that, but I mainly have to cook for myself. I am on a strict diet so I have to buy whatever Andrea tells me I should buy.” Charles commented.
“Who’s Andrea?” Y/N asked.
“My personal trainer.” Charles said.
“Makes sense, you are a high performance athlete after all. I gotta continue my shopping, but it was nice meeting you.” Y/N was going to walk away when Charles held on to her wrist gently.
“Before you leave, how about you give me your number. I could invite you to a race and make a formula 1 fan out of you.” Charles suggested.
“Wow, has that line ever worked?” Y/N asked.
“You tell me, this is the first time I’m using it.” Charles said. Y/N smiled, very flattered that the good looking monegasque wants her number.
“It’s working, i think it’s because of your eyes, maybe a little because of your dimples, but mainly that accent.” Y/N says, Charles gives Y/N his phones and she added her number.
“Remember that you’re the one with the accent in Monaco.” Charles said. Y/N gave him his phone back and Charles checked the contact information. “Let me take a photo of you for your contact.” Charles said, Y/N nodded and pose for the photo. “Beautiful, I’ll text you later.” Charles said and Y/N waved goodbye before heading to a different part of the supermarket to get what she needed.
Now it’s 6 months later, Y/N is definitely a Formula 1 fan, always rooting for Ferrari, but she’s also rooting for Checo and McLaren. Y/N was in her apartment cooking when she heard the door open and it was Charles with his luggage.
“Muñeco, did you come here from the airport? I thought you were going to come back tomorrow.” Y/N said, approaching him to kiss his cheek and help him inside.
“I was, but I have a surprise for you. You know how you said you’ve been missing your parents?” Charles asked.
“And New York in general, but continue,” Y/N said.
“Well i have arranged for us to go to New York and I can meet your parents.” Charles said and Y/N stayed silent. “You don’t like the surprise, chéri?” Charles asked sadly.
“No no no, it’s not that, it’s just…I never told my parents I had a boyfriend.” Y/N admitted as she walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking.
“What? They don’t know about us?” Charles asked. “How do they not know about us?”
“Well they don’t follow me on social media, obviously, and I don’t really call them often because if the time difference.” Y/N said, stirring the pot of pasta.
“Are you sure you miss your parents?” Charles teased and Y/N hit his shoulder playfully.
“I do, i miss my mom’s cooking, you have no idea how much I miss my mom’s lomo saltado. It sucks that your strict diet doesn’t allow you to eat some of the more delicious meals from my culture.” Y/N said,
“You and food. You think you can call them today and tell them about me?” Charles asked.
“Once it hits like 4pm over there, I’ll call. My parents should be home by 3 but I want them to chill a little before I bombard them with a monegasque boyfriend.” Y/N said.
“Would it be a FaceTime call or a regular phone call? Should I be with you when you tell them? I am so nervous.” Charles admitted.
“You’ve had other girlfriends before.” Y/N said.
“Yes, but I already knew their parents one way or another, do you know how small Monaco is?” Charles asked.
“I’m aware. I’ll call them and let you know when to come in and say hello.” Y/N said.
“Sounds good. I’ll stay and eat with you. I’ll stay until our flight to New York.” Charles said.
“When is our flight?” Y/N asked.
“In 3 days.” Charles said.
“Okay, that gives me enough time to pack. Are we flying private?” Y/N asked.
“Oh darling, of course we are.” Charles said.
After eating, they were watching a movie and Y/N checked the time, it was 10pm, it was 4pm in New York.
“Hey muñeco, Im gonna call my mom, okay.” Y/N said. Charles nodded, moving away from her on the couch. Y/N FaceTimed her mom, waiting a few second until she picked up.
“Mi niña, y este milagro? Por qué me estás llamando? Pasó algo malo?” My girl, and this miracle? Why are you calling me? Did something bad happened? Y/N’s mom, Elena, asked worriedly.
“Ay Mami, no pasó nada malo, te lo juro. Papi está contigo?” Oh mom, nothing bad happened, i swear. Is dad with you? Y/N asked.
“Eh sí, permítame un segundo. Enrique! Ven, tu hija nos está llamando!” Uh yeah, give me a second. Come, your daughter is calling us! Elena yelled and Enrique came into frame.
“Hija, cómo estás? Que milagro que nos estás llamado.” How are you? It’s a miracle you’re calling us Enrique said, Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Sí lo sé, es un milagro, pero les estoy llamando porque tengo noticias. Tengo novio.” Yeah, I know, it’s a miracle, but I’m calling you because I have news. I have a boyfriend Y/N said.
“Mira eso, otro milagro.” Elena said. “Y cómo se llama, que hace?” Look at that, another miracle. What’s his name, what does he do?
“Eh, pues aquí está. Charles, come introduce yourself.” Oh well, he’s here Y/N turned her phone so Charles is in frame.
“Eh hola, me llamo Charles Leclerc.” Charles leaned into Y/N’s ear and whispered “they speak English, right?”
“Yes, we speak English, Chuck.” Enrique said.
“Its Charles.” Charles corrects.
“Bueno Charles, what do you do?” Enrique asked.
“I am a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.” Charles said.
“Anyway, les llamé para decirles que vamos a visitarlos en unos días. Así puedes conocer a mi novio mejor, él de verdad quiere conocerlos, no sabes lo emocionado que estaba cuando me dijo sobre el viaje.” I called to tell you guys that we will be visiting you for a few days. Like that you could get to know my boyfriend better, he really wants to meet you, you don’t know how excited he was when he told me about the trip. Y/N said.
“Está bien, vamos a preparar tu cuarto para que pueden venir, adiós, mi niña.” Alright, we’ll set up your room so you can come over, bye. Elena said and she hung up.
“They hate me, don’t they.” Charles said.
“You are the first boyfriend I ever told them about. You are my first boyfriend so it’s normal.” Y/N said.
“You have no idea how much I love being your first.” Charles kissed her. “Do you think I’ll be able to win over your parents?”
“I think you will, what’s not to love about you? Beside the fact that you don’t put on sunscreen.” Y/N said
“Ha ha, mon ange. I have a good feeling about this trip, it’ll be fun to see where you grew up.” Charles said.
Charles and Y/N we’re on the plane to New York.
“Do you think your parents would like these gifts? I’m having second thoughts.” Charles said.
“Muñeco, please calm down. My mom has always wanted a Dior bag and I’m sure my dad would appreciate that Rolex you got him.” Y/N said.
“Maybe I should have got him a Richard Mille, it would be like a statement, ‘i make enough money for your daughter to never work again’, I think all parents want that for their daughter,” Charles said.
“Well they also don’t want me to depend on a man so the Rolex is perfect. A little bit about my parents, my mom, Elena, is a housekeeper, my dad, Enrique, is a City worker, he’s an electrical engineer. My mom loves handbags, she has a whole collection which we usually get from the outlet mall. Both my parents grew up ‘poor’ back in their countries, but it’s all good now, they’re working class people. My dad is really into cars so maybe you could talk to him about that.” Y/N said. Charles was typing on his phone. “Are you taking notes?” Y/N giggled.
“Yes! I’ve never been this nervous before,” Charles confessed.
“Relax, muñeco, they are going to love you.” Y/N kissed him, hoping he would relax. Charles pulled Y/N onto his lap and they stayed like that for the rest of their flight.
Charles got a rental car from the airport, he chose an Audi, and drove to her parents’ place.
“You couldn’t have picked a cheaper car?” Y/N asked.
“Compared to what I drive, mon ange, this is the cheapest car I could have rented.” Charles said, parking the car.
“Nope, I’m parking, get out.” Y/N said, taking her seatbelt off.
“My parking is getting better.” Charles said, getting out of the car.
“It’s still not good, muñeco.” Y/N said. She got into the driver seat and parked the car, she got out of the car. “Can you get our bags, cariño?” Y/N asked. Charles kissed her before opening the trunk to get their bags. They made it up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal Elena.
“Ay, mi niña, It’s si good to see you again. Come in, come in, leave your stuff, we were just leaving.” Elena said, moving to the side, Y/N and Charles walked into the house.
“What? What do you mean you were just leaving?” Y/N asked. Charles left their luggage in the living room and sat on the couch while Y/N and Elena talked in the entrance.
“It’s Saturday, princesa, your Tia Hilda is having a carne asada to celebrate her son graduating high school.” Elena said.
“But mom, can you please get to know him first before we go? We are always early and I know you hate helping Tia Hilda with the decorations.” Y/N said.
“Tienes razón. So Charles, tell me about yourself. Enrique!” Elena said, walking into the living room, sitting on a chair opposite of the couch. Y/N sat beside Charles.
“Well i am 26 years old.” Charles started.
“Really? Y/N here is only 21.” Elena said. Enrique walked in and sat on the other chair.
“Yes, I know Mrs. L/N, but we have a lot in common and I believe we are good for each other.” Charles said, holding Y/N’s hand.
“Interesting. When you were dating Giada and Charlotte…” Enrique started.
“Papi!” Y/N exclaimed, surprised that her dad would look up Charles’s dating history.
“Did you say the same thing to their parents?” Enrique finished.
“With all due respect, sir, each relationship is different, those relationships were in different points of my life. I don’t see myself breaking up with Y/N any time soon. For right now, she is what I need in my life, she understands me, comforts me, she feels like home. I guarantee that anything Y/N has wanted I have to her, but she doesn’t depend on me for anything. De verdad amo su hija y espero que nos podemos llevar bien.” I truly love your daughter and I hope that we could get along Charles said. “My teammate and friend is Spanish so I learned a little. I learned more when I started dating Y/N.” Y/N looks at him with heart eyes, she is so in love with him.
“You seem like a good guy, it was really big of you to come all the way to New York to meet us.” Enrique said,
“Thank you, I actually have gifts for you.” Charles said, opening the luggage to pull out the Rolex to give to Enrique and the Dior bag for Elena,
“Oh it is beautiful, thank you, Charles. Now let’s go to the carne asada, Y/N, tell him how to get there, we’ll see you in a few.” Elena said, putting the bag away while Enrique puts on the watch. Y/N’s parents left the house and Y/N starts looking for her house keys.
“Found them, let’s go.” Y/N said, they left the house and locked the door,
“Mon ange, I barely survived meeting your parents, do you really think I can meet your entire family?” Charles asked, they started walking to the car.
“I believe in you, oh and you can’t say you’re on a diet, that’s offensive.” Y/N said, getting into the car.
“What?” Charles asked as he got in the car.
“You’re gonna have to eat what they’re serving, I’m sorry, you’re eating rice, grilled steak, chicken, ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs, shrimp if we’re lucky, you’re break your diet today.” Y/N said.
“Ugh, Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles started the car and followed Y/N’s direction to the house.
“Yay we made it, I wonder if Christina is here.” Y/N said, getting out of the car after she parked it.
“Who’s Christina?” Charles asked,
“My cousin. Well, my mom’s friend’s daughter, I call her my cousin.” Y/N said. She opened the gate to enter through the backyard,
“You just open the gate?” Charles asked, closing the gate behind him.
“Yes.” Y/N said looking at him, she then saw some cousins and aunts and uncles. “Hola hola!” Y/N exclaimed.
“Y/N!” The family shouted, all of them getting closer to her for a hug.
“Quien es el güero?” Her Uncle Hernando.
“El güero es mi novio, this is Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said. She heard a scream.
“No way, you’re dating Charles Leclerc, you could have told me.” Her cousin said,
“Charles, this is Christina, my cousin, he’s an F1 fan.” Y/N introduced them,
“It’s nice to meet you, Christina.” Charles said, shaking her hand,
“Oh my gosh, I am such a huge fan. When Lewis becomes your teammate, can you bring him over? Like Can that happen?” Christina asked.
“Maybe, I’ll ask the next time we plan on coming to New York,” Charles said.
“Yes! I made picarones, we’re supposed to have them later but I guess I can make an exception for il predestinato.” Christina said, leaving them to get a picaron.
“You’re gonna like it, it’s so good, she better bring me one.” Y/N said, a few moments later, Christina came with the picarón. Charles took a bite,
“Mm, it’s delicious.” Charles said, moving the picarón to Y/N so she could get a bite.
“Mm, best batch yet, Chris,” Y/N said,
“Thank you, I’ve been practicing,” Christina said.
“Everyone, it’s time to eat!” Archie, Hilda’s husband.
“Okay so don’t serve yourself the sauce, please don’t, okay?” Y/N said,
“Why not?” Charles asked, sitting at the table,
“Because it’s spicy.” Y/N said.
“I like spicy food, chéri.” Charles said.
“This is Mexican spicy, not white people spicy.” Y/N said.
“I think I can handle it, I’m gonna have some rice and shrimp off the grill.” Charles said, getting up to get a plate and serve himself some Mexican rice, grilled shrimp, and added salsa on the shrimp. He sat down and took a bite of the shrimp. “Hm, it good.” Charles started coughing and fanning his tongue. Y/N stifled her laugh while standing up to get a beer from the cooler. She opened the bottle and gave it to Charles who’s eyes were tearing up.
“Are you okay, muñeco?” Y/N asked.
“Why is it so spicy?” Charles asked.
“I think Monica was angry when making it.” Uncle Eduardo said. Monica hit his shoulder.
“I wasn’t angry.” Monica said, taking a chip to dip in the sauce. “This is good, I don’t know what y’all are talking about,” Monica said.
“So Charles, you drive for Scuderia Ferrari? You must be away a lot.” Archie said.
“Yeah, I’m away a lot, but Y/N comes with me to some of the races when she can.” Charles said, sipping the beer.
“Yes, the Suzuka Grand Prix was great, loved walking around Japan, was so much fun.” Y/N said, eating food.
“That’s good, that’s good.” Archie said.
“Yeah, and next weekend we will be in Spain.” Charles commented.
“You think you’ll win?” Mauricio, a cousin, asked.
“I hope I win, but it’s more than certain that Max will be in P1.” Charles admitted.
When they were finished eating, Charles played soccer with Y/N’s younger cousins, letting the younger cousins win.
“He’s really good with kids.” Christian told Y/N.
“You’ve seen all those posts about him with kids, it’s no surprise.” Y/N said.
“You seem really happy with him.” Christina commented.
“I am. I was worried about him meeting everyone, but I think it turned out better than I imagined,” Y/N said, watching the little kids tackling Charles to the ground and he’s just laughing.
The carne asada ended and Charles and Y/N were in the car.
“I think your family likes me. I’ve been invited over for Christmas.” Charles said and Y/N laughed.
“You think your mom would be okay with you spending Christmas in New York?” Y/N asked.
“Well she could come with us, and Arthur, Lorenzo, Charlotte, I want our families to meet each other.” Charles said.
“All in due time, muñeco.” Y/N said.
“I like when you call me muñeco.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.
“Okay, muñeco, let’s go, my parents are probably waiting for us.” Y/N said, Charles kissed her one more time before driving home.
The End
Hope y’all liked it! Comments are appreciated, let me know if you want to be tagged in future one shots
Tag: @prettypink11
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one#formula 1
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Could I request Jason Todd with an s/o who enjoys making art of him? Sketches, paintings, etc.
Jason never saw himself as ever being a muse for someone else’s art, their reason to immeditly rush to their sketch pads or canvas and let the ideas flow out and take form however that maybe.
It was a reality he had came to accept until you came along and happily challenged this view he had on himself, and without fail you’ve proven him wrong again and again on multiple occasions.
Finally he had became a muse to somebody and he couldn’t help but be touched and feel extremely loved and appreciated whenever you shown him a simple sketch of him doing something mundane, whether that be making dinner for you both or reading a book, you just had a way of showing him how you see him through your art.
‘It’s a simple sketch I made this morning, nothing fancy.’ You’d shrug as Jason looked over your drawings of him and smiled.
‘If this is what you call a simple sketch then I’m all out of luck in ever attempting to take up drawing, this is amazing sweetheart!’ He’d say as he peppered your face with sweet, thankful kisses before moving away to look at the drawing once more, taking note on how much attention to detail there was in what you claimed was a simple sketch.
You drew him with such love for everything that made him in his entirety. You took extra care in drawing his every scar that littered his body, big and small. From the largest scar running from his collarbones and down his entire upper body, to the various scars scattered on his neck, forearms, hands and back.
You didn’t try to hide his impurities and instead actively chose to emphasise them in a way that he never thought existed. You didn’t try to make him look palatable nor tried to draw/paint him in anyway that wasn’t true to his character and he loved it. He loved the fact that you saw him for who he was and found him worth spending hours upon hours of drawing for.
‘I’m sure you’ll pick it up jay bird, besides I like drawling you.’ You admit.
‘Why?’ He asks softly.
‘What?’
‘Why do you like drawing me? What is it about me that worth immortalising on a canvas or in the pages of a sketchbook?’ Jason says as he looks at other sketches/paintings you’ve done of him in your spare time and felt his heart grow bigger with each and every one he came across.
You even sketched him in that stupid bunny onesie that Dick got him after loosing a bet, much to his dismay and the rest of his family’s amusement. Once upon a time he would’ve been ashamed at that his most embarrassing moment had been sketched out onto paper, but now he just shrugs and laughs it off, finally finding it funny as everyone else did at the time.
‘Because everything about you is worth immortalising, whether it be as a sketch or as a painting, you -Jason Todd- are worth remembering well into the future.’ You tell him as you took the sketchbook out of his grasp and settled it aside to hold his face in your hands, smiling upon seeing him melt deeper into your touch. ‘I didn’t feel like portraying you in any way that wasn’t true to who you are, at least in my eyes.’ You add.
‘And what do I look like in your eyes?’ Jason speaks barely above a whisper as he looks at you with storm grey eyes, a stark difference to the bright cobalt blue of his youth.
‘Perfectly imperfect.’ You kiss his forehead. ‘A Human with a heart of pure gold despite everything you’ve been through.’ You press another kiss to his nose. ‘A true protector of Gotham who bares the scars to prove it every night.’ You finished praising him by place a soft kiss to his plush, slightly chapped lips and pressing your forehead against his. ‘You’re Jason Todd. My muse.’
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood imagines
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AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?
Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide
I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.
From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.
I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.
About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.
The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.
After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.
My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.
Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.
Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.
It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.
Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.
(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)
I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.
The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.
@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)
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~ Thoughtless ~
Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.
Malleus is in love with you.
How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?
So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.
He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.
You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.
There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.
... Until...
"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"
You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.
Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.
What the hell.
He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?
That son of a--
Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.
Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.
"Why are you here?" You spit out.
His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.
"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"
"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."
"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."
You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?
"Fuck?"
He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."
"Our wed--"
And it clicks in your head.
'My betrothed.'
'What flowers would you like?'
'Our wedding.'
It's you. The betrothed is you.
You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,
"I like wisteria."
It's just, so naturally, him.
"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."
#wrote a one shot short shot while on break#twisted wonderland#ventique rambles#malleus draconia#malleus x reader
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(from some unfinished scene that was bouncing around in my head, the premise of which was, "confessing your darkest fantasies to each other") bit nsfw, needless to say
--
"God, I had this one--" Hob scrubs a hand through his hair, torn between embarrassment and a buried longing that's still very real-- "after I met you in 1689. This recurring dream that you would just... take me with you."
"With me," Dream says.
"To faerie land, or wherever it was you came from, as I imagined it. You must've lived in some fantastical place, I thought, and life was hardly treating me well then. Would just be for a few months, mind," he adds, before Dream starts getting the idea that he hadn't wanted to live. Hob had always wanted to live. He just needed a break. "A year, maybe. But just... that you would..." he ducks his head, "take care of me. God, the things I'd do then for a loaf of bread, or a warm bed. Things I did do, for lesser men. Would do lot more for you."
"Like what?" asks Dream. His voice is... considering.
Surely Dream, being, well, Dream, won't find it strange? Hell, he's so damn princely, he'll probably just be vain about it. Still Hob takes a steeling gulp of his wine. "Anything you wanted. You were the only one that was kind to me then."
"Barely kind," says Dream.
"Still. When I was really deep in it I-- I used to imagine you'd just keep me there. Like a pet." It should be more embarrassing to admit, but Dream doesn't seem judgmental. And Hob has often found that confessing deep feelings to him is easier than it would be to any other person. "Figured I was just a curiosity to you anyway. In exchange for your kindness I'd have done anything. Knelt at your feet. Let you use me. Kept your cock warm while you conducted your-- your magical affairs of state, or what have you, God I could only imagine what you did with the rest of your time." It still stirs something in him to think of, even with no starving desperation to spur it.
He's still looking down, and hears rather than sees Dream lean forward in his seat, the shift of fabric, the creak of the table as he leans on it, letting himself have real weight. "This fantasy..." Hob looks up to meet his gaze, and the dark intent he finds there nearly knocks him out of his chair. "Is it one you would still care to indulge in?"
"To-- indulge in?" The words are barely choked out, the heat of Dream's gaze brands his throat shut.
Dream looks him up and down slowly. "If I brought you with me to the heart of the Dreaming for an evening," he purrs, "would you truly kneel at the foot of my throne? Let me show you off to guests? Would you..." he leans in closer, his fingers trip up Hob's throat, "submit, and warm my cock like a good pet, while I presided over my kingdom?"
Hob's never beating the monarchist allegations now. He nearly slides off his chair and kneels at Dream's feet right then. God, but Dream is a king like none the earth's ever seen. He's right out of a story.
Heart pattering in his chest, he says, "Would I?" It sounds less a question, more a plea. "Would you let me?"
"Dear Hob." Dream tips his chin up, studies him from under his lashes, thumbs over the corner of his mouth. An evaluation, and a caress. "You need someone to care for you. In my realm you would want for nothing. You would not need to fight, or worry about your next meal. You need only do as I tell you. And I would not steer you wrong."
Hob swallows hard. Dream is too good at this. Why did Hob think it was a good idea to share a fantasy with the King of Fucking Fantasies again?
It was a terrible idea for his sanity.
And a wonderful one, too. For as Dream spins the tale he can see it in the back of his mind, the vague and changeable sense of a dream, the all-consuming weight of Dream in his mouth, Dream's hands in his hair, his low voice above him, all else faded away as is the nature of dreams.
Dream hums in approval, and Hob remembers quite suddenly that he can sense daydreams, too.
Dream digs his hand into his hair, tips his head back just so. "This isn't fair," Hob croaks. "You didn't even share one of your fantasies yet."
"Perhaps I've adopted this as one of mine," Dream muses. He leans in and claims Hob's mouth, tipping his head further back, rises from his chair to lean over him. Hob barely suppresses a whimper. "In fact, I have a delegation from Hell due to arrive in the Dreaming for a negotiation tonight. It promises to be both dull and incredibly infuriating. Would you care to join me, and comfort your king during this trying time?"
"From Hell?" Hob squeaks. But Dream is looking at him with those dark eyes and Hob is helpless to him. Helpless to the pull of that fantasy.
"I will keep you safe," Dream says, a soothing, easy tone that makes Hob want to bend for him just as much as his intensity does. "You need not worry."
Hob's worried for his sanity more than anything else.
But he says, "Okay. All- alright then." He swallows down the lump in his throat that catches at the gleam in Dream's eye. He steels himself. Takes Dream's hand. Kisses it. "Take me to your realm, then, King of Dreams."
#i'm feeling a lack of dom dream in my life lately. granted i'm contributing to it with my 10k dom hob wip#nsft#dreamling#dom/sub#things i write at 2am#my writing#the initial prompt in my head was 'cursed by desire to have to confess their darkest fantasies' XD sort of fuck or die but lower stakes
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blame the fire whiskey ᯓᡣ𐭩 theodore nott
𝜗𝜚 theodore nott x slytherin!reader | fluff | 1.7k words
♡ mentions of drinking (not reader)
➶ this is based on my shorter writing here
"Oh, come on. You have to come to the game today!"
One skill that your best friend had was being so convincing; I mean, who could say no to Theodore Nott's big brown eyes when he begs you to attend his quidditch game later against Gryffindor, or his signature grin when you finally agree to go after he persistently asked you all day.
"Fine," You're working on a Transfiguration paper while lying on Theodore's bed as you finally give in to his request. "I'll go to the quidditch game later." You raise your head to stare at him, seeing a smile on his lips when he gets up from his chair and walks over to his closet.
"Now, let's look a little excited now, please?" Theodore is busy rummaging through his closet when you place your quill down briefly, "Wait, are Pansy and Astoria going too?"
You watch the boy focus on moving his hanged clothes to the side, looking for something. His room was neat compared to the state of his closet, and you stared out the window to see the spring leaves blooming.
"Yeah," Theodore's head is now searching through the depths of his closet, "They told me earlier that they're going." You hum in delight, thanking Salazar that your friends will be there in the stands while your other friends will be on the field playing.
"Where did I place it?" You hear Theodore mumble but decide to continue working on your paper.
A few moments later, you feel a piece of clothing cover your face, "Theo! What is this?" You exclaim while removing the object to identify it.
Theodore laughs at your annoyed expression, walking over to you, "It's my jersey, of course."
You observe the jersey clearly, seeing his name on the backside of the green clothing.
"Obviously, but why are you throwing this to me?" You ask again, wanting to hear the verbal explanation directly from his lips.
Theodore shrugs his shoulders, pulling the jersey out of your hands and making you sit up. He silently places the jersey on top of your current clothes before he looks satisfied.
"Theo," You look at him with a faint smile, "Answer me,"
"It's for good luck," Theodore stared at the clock and walked over to pick up his broomstick, as it was almost time for his practice. "Do you really want Slytherin to lose today?"
You were surprised when Pansy and Astoria didn't ask why you wore Theodore's jersey to the game. But you were even more surprised when you heard someone faintly calling your name from a distance.
"Turn around," Astoria shook your shoulders, breaking you out of your conversation with Pansy.
"Theo?" You question the obvious. A happy-looking Theodore was flying to the stands while calling your name.
You laugh at his actions, not noticing the curious eyes from around you. Since the game ended, students had eventually noticed that you were wearing Theodore’s jersey, almost as if you were dating.
"I'll see you later when you get down," He waves before flying away, finally hearing the choruses of teasing around you.
"Theo!" You run up to him on the field, "Congrats on the win!" Theodore wraps his arm around you when you reach him, brushing some hair out of your face.
"Thanks, it was because you wore my jersey today," He looks down at you when you pull away. Pansy and Mattheo hear the sound of your laughter when they approach the two of you.
"So," Pansy says to the three of you, "We're all going to the celebration party later, right?"
You felt Theodore snake a hand around your waist and use his other hand to brush through his hair.
Pansy spots Astoria, Draco, Lorenzo, and Blaise walking toward the four of you, "Yeah, I think so,” Mattheo answers her, looking at Theodore. "Draco said there's going to be Fire Whiskey tonight, so Theo’s drinking with me."
When your other friends reach you, all of you walk back towards the castle, betting on who's getting wasted the most tonight.
It was Lorenzo.
The boy was wasted and fast asleep on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room. The loud music and conversations were not disrupting his sleep, with too much alcohol in his system.
Soon, Pansy and Astoria called it a night, ensuring they would take Lorenzo back to his dorm because they didn’t want to leave him sleeping outside any longer.
All of you bid them goodbye, relaxing back on the couch that your group spent parties on.
Theodore remains to share the spacious couch with you, laughing and taking the bottle away from a drunk Mattheo when the boy spills out of the shot glasses.
"So, did you finish the Potions project yet?" You watch Draco take a slow sip from his cup, containing a punch that half the people at the party were drinking.
"How could I," Blaise answered your question with a sigh, "Enzo didn't even know how to brew the Forgetfulness Potion during first year; what makes you think he can brew Veritaserum?"
You and Draco laugh when Blaise reaches over to grab one of the shots that Theodore had poured, a defeated look on his face when he drowns the alcohol.
Blaise motioned a shot glass toward you, silently asking if you wanted a shot.
"I'm not drinking tonight, but thanks." You then tilted your back to the couch, observing that you were the only one completely sober.
Draco looks at Blaise while rolling his eyes, "At least you're spending your summer in Italy," before he turns to you, "What are you doing during break?"
You noticed Theodore out of the corner of your eye, leaning back towards you and resting his head on your shoulder.
"I'm visiting my relative's manor for a week, but other than that, I'll be home," You start running your hands through Theodore's hair, "Oh, and I'm going over to Theo’s manor to visit. His father wanted to catch up with my parents, so we're staying over for a few days."
Blaise and Draco notice Theodore smile and lightly blush while his eyes remain closed, but they simply chose to look at each other with knowing eyes.
"That sounds fun," Blaise shakes his head before grabbing another shot from the table, too sober to be thinking about his single love life.
Theodore quietly yawns, catching all three of your attention, "Can we head back?" You hear his voice low, “The music is starting to give me a headache."
Your two friends hear Theodore's request, looking at Mattheo to find him passed out on his seat.
"Do you need help taking Theo back?" Draco asks, getting up from his seat and walking over to Mattheo.
You shake your head no, "Theo’s sleeping over at my dorm tonight, don't worry." Theodore rises, lacing his hand with yours to follow where you lead him.
"Okay, you two head back first," Blaise suggests, “It’s going to take a while to get Mattheo to open his eyes."
You nod, tugging Theodore's arm so he will follow you, walking over to the staircase to your dorms.
The moment you open the door, Theodore beelines to your bed, lying on it faced down.
"Salazar, Theo," You laugh at his tired figure, deciding to leave him alone while you go in the bathroom. "I'll be right back, so stay in bed."
When you hear a mumble from Theodore, you assume he’s too sleepy to move around, so you start getting ready for bed.
"Hey," You shake Theodore's back when you finish, "Are you still awake?"
Theodore's eyes are half-opened when he moves to one side of your bed, giving you space to join him.
You can't help but smile at his peaceful state, finally going under your covers. Theodore reaches his arms out to pull you closer to him, always down to cuddle when he sleeps over.
When Theodore doesn't say a word, you close your eyes, assuming he would have fallen asleep by now.
That's when you felt a faint touch hovering over your face, causing you to open your eyes.
There was Theodore, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, staring intensely after waking you up.
"Sorry," He whispers, but he continues to trace his fingers over your facial features before resting his hand on your cheek.
"Are you alright?" You question him, wondering what was running through his mind.
Theodore closes his eyes for a brief moment, eventually opening it and swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Listen, I have to get something off my chest,” He can’t help but smile when your curious eyes bore into his, “I can’t tell you when I'm sober,"
"What do you need to tell me?" Now you're confused; was Theodore keeping something from you?
"I’m blaming this on the Fire Whiskey if it goes wrong, but I’ve fancied you for years—since I first met you when you approached me and Enzo on the train.”
Theodore started to sober up when it hit him, that he had finally confessed his feelings for you. It starts to eat him up inside when you remain silent, loss at words.
Theodore furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, afraid that he had read all the signs wrong and about to cry to your friends that their advice was useless.
He suddenly felt your hand hover over the one that he had resting on your face, intertwining the two.
"Theo, I like you too. I have, for years now," You say with a smile, "I'm glad you confessed first because I was afraid to tell you first."
Theodore pulled your covers over his head with his free hand and let out a sigh of relief.
"Theo," He peeked his head back out, "Are you sober enough to remember this tomorrow?"
Theodore grins at you, "Of course, I'm going to remember this," He faces you this time, close enough to smell the alcohol lingering on his breath, "Now, can I have the honor of being your boyfriend?"
You close your eyes and close the gap by pressing a kiss at his lips, pulling away with a starstruck Theodore staring back at you.
"I would like that, boyfriend."
Theodore wakes up because of the sunlight casting down on his face, and rubbing his eyes before realizing you were still fast asleep next to him.
He gently places a kiss on your forehead, causing you to stir and yawn.
"Good morning, Amore Mio."
#harry potter#slytherin#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theo nott#slytherin fanfic#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys fanfiction#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys oneshots#slytherin boys x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott imagines#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott oneshots#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott x reader#theo nott fanfiction#theo nott imagine#theo nott oneshot#theo nott oneshots#theo nott scenarios#theo nott x reader
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Salvatore
Spencer Reid x female!Reader
minors dni
Warnings : smut without a plot :)) praise kink and hands kink, oral (female received), switch Spencer, use of pet named (good girl, love, baby, brat, sweet) if you are not into that please do not read.
word count : 3k
Dating Spencer was never a plan. But here you were, falling for him more and more each day. He was not someone you expected to fall in love with; you didn't usually go for guys like him. But he had something that made you feel safe and understood at the same time. He was different from anyone you had ever dated before, which made him so special to you. You were younger than him, and you sometimes worried that you weren't what he needed in his life. But Spencer was always there to remind you that you were his safe person.
You didn't have always much time to spend together because of his work and your studies, but whenever that happened, it felt like time stood still and you were the only two people in the world. You went out for coffee or a date in a library, trying to find books for each other, and when you just wanted to relax, you would just lay on the sofa and read books.
Tonight was like this, with you two being too tired to go out but wanting to spend time together. He was at his desk, studying something for his new case. He had promised you that it wouldn't take long, but half an hour became one and then two, and you started getting bored. You didn't want to bother him, but your boyfriend was looking so damn good doing what he was good at, and you couldn't stop staring at him. His focused expression and the way his brow furrowed in concentration were oddly attractive to you. You wish he was more focused on you; however, you were afraid to ask for his attention.
You couldn't quit thinking about how beautiful his hands were. You loved how his fingers moved with precision and grace, making you feel an odd mixture of admiration and desire. The longer you watched him, the more you imagined him touching you. You couldn't stop thinking about his hands running down your body till they landed on the band of your pyjama shorts. Spencer knew it he wasn't naive. He noticed how you would stare at his hands and bite your lips. He saw how your gaze remained fixed on them while he was reading, or how you would simply stare at them when you assumed he wasn't paying attention.
"Spence, I... I just," You couldn't admit your desire for his hands; you were only hoping he wouldn't see through your frozen expression.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked. He sounded so calm, as if he hadn't caught you staring at his hands, and wishing he was doing something other than work.
"Yeah…why wouldn't I be?" You replied and gave him a forced and awkward smile, hoping he wouldn't ask anything more. The tension between you two was clear, but you attempted to hide it.
"Well, first of all, your face is kind of red, you were zooming out, and you were also staring at my hands." He spoke without breaking eye contact.
"I-I'm not staring," you responded quickly, attempting to explain yourself, but your stutter made you seem more guilty.
You could stop thinking how long have you been staring at his hands? What if he thought it was weird? What if you make him uncomfortable?
You hadn't dated Spencer for a while, and he didn't know all of your likes, so you were afraid to tell him.
When you finally mumbled, "I-I just... um, I really like your hands," you could feel the heat rising on your face. Spencer's face softened, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. "Well, in that case, I'll have to make sure to use them to hold yours more often," he said making you blush even more.
"Are you done with your work?" you asked eagerly, hoping to attract his attention.
With an innocent smile, Spencer shook his head and chuckled. "I have a few more things to finish up before I'm done," he said, noticing your disappointed look. "But I can come there and sit with you while I work if you'd like." You blushed again and nodded quickly, letting him know how much you wanted to touch you.
Your heart skipped a beat at Spencer's offer. You could feel his warmth and comfort spreading over you as he placed himself next to you. You looked at him, and you asked softly, "Can I lay with my head on your thigh?"
He nodded, and as your head rested on his leg, one of his hands played with your hair. You looked up to him with doe eyes and made yourself comfortable. Spencer's gentle touch and the way he stroked his fingers through your hair left you feeling desperate. Spencer's hand discovered your sweet place, and you let out a sweet groan. His touch caused shivers down your spine. You knew he was teasing you, so you placed your hand on his thigh and massaged small circles.
Your hands moved higher, attempting to reach the spot you desired the most. Spencer's breath caught as your hand came closer to where you wanted it, but it didn't get far. He grasped your wrist, and you glanced up at him innocently.
"Don't tease me, Y/N." You could see the desire in his eyes, which just increased yours. With a devilish smirk, you asked, "Who said I was teasing?" You felt like your entire body was on fire. You wanted him to touch, feel, and kiss you. He was so close and yet so far away; you weren't sure what got into you, whether it was his hands and how they made you feel or the way he played with your hair.
He looked down at you, smirking, and said, "Don't you want to be my good girl, Y/N?" His voice was deep but lovely, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded before even trying to process what he said.
"So don't tease me, love, and let me finish my job," he replied, releasing your wrist. But you weren't expecting this response, so you got up from his thighs . As you struggled to process his words, you felt a rush of eagerness and nervousness wash over you. You couldn't resist the anticipation of his domination, but you didn't want to wait.
"I don't want to wait," you said as you tilted your head. His eyes darkened, and he raised his eyebrows. "Impatient, are we?" he replied with a smirk, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder. "I like that in you," he added before pulling you up to his lap. He left the file on the small table that was beside the sofa, and then his hands touched your waist.
He cupped the side of your face with one of his hands. "My girl's so needy that she can't even wait five more minutes," he said, and you bit your lips. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his hand. "I can't help it when you're around," you whispered, feeling his grip tighten slightly in response. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of warmth run through your body. His touch was intoxicating, and you knew you'd never want to be anywhere else than in his arms. Your hands slid up his thighs to the button on his jeans as soon as he pulled back. He sighed and dropped his head back as you unbuttoned his jeans. You were so eager that you almost didn't recognise yourself.
Before you could even remove his trousers, he stopped you with his hand on your wrist.
"Not so fast," he whispered, kissing you again. Spencer changed your position within a minute.
Now you were sitting on the sofa with your legs open and Spence on his knees between them. His hands moved gently over your body, making you feel warm with excitement. His intense gaze at you caused your heart to rush even quicker.
He was now staring up at you with an eager grin. Spencer's hands moved from your waist to your thighs before touching your pyjama shorts. With your help, he carefully slipped them down, exposing more of your skin to his desperate gaze. The air between you cracked with longing; you couldn't wait any longer; you needed him to touch and feel you. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your sensitive core. He hadn't even touched you down there, but you knew you were wet; you could feel the frustration running through your body.
"Please, Spencer," you asked. You had no idea what you were begging for, but you were willing to accept whatever he offered you. He wet his lips and used his hands to remove your panties. You stared down at him and realised that even though he was on his knees, he had complete control, which he proved as soon as his hands reached your clit.
Spencer teased you more, wanting to hear the sounds you made as a reaction to the pleasure he gave you. You bit your lips and pushed your hips towards him, aching to feel more.
"Patient," he replied without breaking his sight from you. He looked at you with lust and need, but he refused to touch you unless you begged him to. You knew Spencer would always make the wait worthwhile.
“Please, Spencer just- do anything, please I need- Ah.” you didn't have the time to complete your sentence and Spencer's mouth was now on your clit. He always knew how to please you, especially when he would eat you out. He was a man with an eidetic memory after all, of course he knew your body better than you.
“You’re such a t-tease Spence” you whined. He looked up at you with his gorgeous eyes and a smirk and before you knew it his fingers were inside of you. You were so wet already that his fingers could easily slip inside you. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, he couldn’t and the truth was that he didn’t want to. It was one of his favourite things to do, watching you fall apart just because of his fingers and mouth.
“P-please” you managed to say again.
“Begging is a good look for you, darling but I’m sure you don’t know what you are begging for, do you ?” he said with a grin.
“Don’t stop Spencer” you cried out.
Spencer was eating you out like a man starved. The fingering and eating duo was phenomenal and he knew that. He was practically making out with your clit.
When he pulled his fingers out you cried out feeling so empty, but immediately Spencer spread your pussy lips with his fingers as he pressed his tongue inside of you. Your back arched and a sinful moan left your lips. Your legs started shaking and you could feel yourself getting closer as you tried to close your thighs together. Spencer understood that and with his hand placed one of your legs on his shoulder.
“You want to come Y/N? ” he asked hot breath hitting your core and sending shivers through your spine.
“God-yes” you moaned as Spencer’s lips touched you again, you felt your clit pulsing and twitching in his mouth with his fingers once again inside you.
“Then cum to my fingers Y/N” Spencer whispered as your pussy squeezed rhythmically around his fingers finding your climax. You closed your eyes and your head fell back as you tried to catch your breath.
Spencer started leaving wet kisses on your thighs and when you finally opened your eyes and looked at him he said “I want you to ride me. Can you do that pretty girl?” he asked. You just nodded eager to please him.
When he placed himself next to you he helped you climb on him.
Spencer’s hands moved tightly around your waist, when he tried to place you on his thighs, sending goosebumps to your whole body. Your hand fell to the zipper of his jeans unzipping it as fast as you could. You could finally see how hard he was. You looked at him biting your lips so innocently, his eyes never looked away watching every move you made.
“Eating me out really does make you hard,” you whispered in his ear and smirked. His eyes darkened as he pulled you by your hair lightly to make you look at him.
“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” He grunted softly “You were the one who was begging asking to be touched.” you blushed and tried to look away. “So if you want to cum I suggest to stop being a brat.”
Spencer always was talkative during sex but now he was being mean and bold.
“S-sorry” you managed to say.
With Spencer’s help, you remove his jeans and boxer his hard dick was licking with pre-cum as it hit his flat stomach.
You decided to tease him some more jerking his length with your palm as you go for a kiss, moans dying in your mouth.
“Just- Just ride me already” Spencer groaned you grinned at him before you opened your mouth and said, “And I thought I was the needy one”. His hands were now gripping your thighs trying to guide you on top of him and without any warning he slipped inside you. You were already wet because of your previous orgasm but Spencer was big and you could still feel the way he was stretching you out.
“Always so tight,” he breathed out. Spencer didn’t move he didn’t know just how badly you ached for him, so he waited to adjust to him. Your hands were resting on his chest, you were trying your best not to fall apart and collapse on him. As you sank down on him he knew he should help you but he loved watching you struggle. So you decided to take matters into your own hands, as you started straddling him. You opened slightly your mouth and a small cry left your lips. Your head fell back and you started moving. With every rise of your hips and bounce of your ass against him you were taking him deeper.
“P-please” Words were coiled at your throat, coming out as broken sobs, wishing for more but you were starting to get tired of doing all the work.
“If you want something, you have to use your words, babe” Spencer hissed. You tried to move faster but your legs were giving up on you. Spencer could feel the way your warm walls throbbed around him, but he also noticed how your pace slowed down.
“Can’t you handle it, baby?” He whispered in your ear leaving a wet kiss there.
“I can-fuck, I can handle it.” You were I mess, your lips were trembling and Spencer couldn't take his eyes off of you. Thrusting yourself up and down along his cock was causing your boobs to bounce in front of him begging him for his attention. And the next thing you know is that his mouth scatters wet kisses all over your boobs.
“Go faster,” he said plainly with a bit of a whine.
“I can't, too m-much Spence” you whined as you kept riding him.
“Oh you want my h-help” he managed to breathe out. You couldn't say anything your mind was far gone for a while now and the only thing that you could do was nod your head.
“Use your words, baby, you are a smart girl, Right” he teased you. He always knew what to say to make your walls throb around him.
“Pl-please help me” you stuttered.
“Help you with what baby, come on,” he said as he let his hands fall on your ass.
“Cum” you whined. You didn't have to ask him twice as he started helping you with your movement. Your hips were now slamming up too recklessly giving you exactly what you asked for.
“Faster—ah shit—“ you were a hot mess, but believe me Spencer loved the view.
“I'm sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making” he grinned at you teasingly. His fingers sank into the smooth fat, forcing your movements to speed up, and you're mewing, pleading with him to give you more, more, more.
Spencer was hitting that one spot and your eyesight was beginning to blur. He moaned loudly and bucked his hips up into you.
“Feels so good S-Spencer” you cried out. You started getting louder with watery eyes as you got closer to your orgasm, that was the signature of him to go faster. You could feel him pulsing inside you since he was getting closer as well. He placed his hand on your throat making you come closer to kiss you. Your eyes fell on his hands his veins were popping out and you couldn't take your eyes off of them.
“S-so pretty” you mewed before he kissed you. But you were struggling to kiss him back as he was fucking you so good.
“I-fuck S-Spence I’m g-gonna cum” you said.
“C-cum for me sweet” he stuttered softly while he was getting closer with every movement.
“So good…you’re doing so good, such a good girl for me,” he praised, suddenly overwhelmed by the pleasure your pussy had given him.
His praises practically take you over the edge, forcing you to lean forward and put your arms on his shoulders to hold yourself from falling on him while continuing to ride out your orgasm.
“Y/N” Spencer moaned “I’m cumming, don’t stop, please. Don’t stop” You always loved how he would beg as he was getting closer.
“Beg,” you said as you pulled his hair feeling more in control now as you keep riding him.
“Don’t…nghh- don’t be a brat” he groaned as he came inside you filling you up with his cums.
Spencer needed some time to catch his breath and calm down from his climax before he tried to help you stand up. But you shocked your head.
“I want to be close to you, please” you begged.
“You know actually the chances of-mphh” he started saying but you cut him off by kissing him.
“You know I don’t mind,” you said as you tried to stoop up “But if it makes you uncomfortable I can always go clean up” you continued but before you could even get off of him he pushed back at him.
“N-no stay” he murmured. You nodded at him with a little smile and rested your head on his shoulder as he started talking about a new poem that he read.
Spencer maybe made you wait but he always fucked you like a gentleman.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
reblogs are always appreciated !
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily
#x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x fem!reader smut
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lucy bronze x reader
platonic where r struggles with anxiety and Lucy supports her
either at England camp or in Barca
It okay not to be okay // lucy bronze
You've honestly been trying really hard too improve yourself socially, from getting your first England call up to playing for Barcelona it required a lot of hard work and socializing which you're able to do expect the socializing part.
That were you meet Lucy bronze she was one of the older girls. who had taken a liking to you and Lauren James despite the age gap she had mange to get you out of you shell and got you to come around a few of the england girlies before.
So when she heard the news about you transferring to barcelona your bound had become stronger and you could go to her for whatever problems you had.
But you'd always been very anxious when it comes to meeting new people.so here you were at a team night out standing all alone while the rest of the girls where either having fun together or pulling some type of prank on the older girls.
But you were always felt uneasy whenever it came to socializing with other's faulty at your anxiety one of the main reasons you always found yourself stressed out or struggling.
You always wanted to join in on what the other youngsters where doing but despite trying you would overthink it cause of you were afraid to be regretted or casted outside so most of the time you kept to yourself.
But lucy was always there to spot you and help you be more outgoing like right now.
"Oi kid why aren't you with the other's causing trouble isn't that what teenagers like you love doing". she asked you
"Nothing I don't really know".you told her while starring at your shoes.
"Don't bush around the corner kid why don't you try talking to some of the other girl I'm pretty sure they've been wanting to get to know you".
"I wil just need space right now I'll be right back". you told her before making a run to the bathroom.
Looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror trying to get yourself to breath properly.it wasn't always easy telling someone to just go out there a "make friends".
For some reason you started struggling to breathe tears falling down your face.vicky had open the bathroom door and saw you shaking and her mind went immediately to call in lucy.
Lucy came rushing in when she heard Vicky say something about you not breathing right and bathroom.
"Oh bug I'm so sorry deep breathes okay take it slow in and out". she told you vicky was right next to her rubbing your back to ease it out for you.
After calming down for what seemed like ages to you vicky came run right pass you before yelling.
"Tag your it".
"Aye that not fair".you told her before chasing her around along with the other girl losing lucy glance on you she finally relaxed knowing you were all well now.
#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze fanfic#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso fic#woso one shot#woso blurbs#woso drama#woso community#woso#barca women#barca femeni#barcelona femeni x reader#engwnt#engwnt x reader#lionesses x reader#fcb femeni x reader#teen reader#plantonic#pinkyqilfic
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FAKE DATING | 박성훈.PSH
summary: when two friends find themselves in need of a convenient arrangement, they make a plan to fake a relationship. what starts as a simple facade quickly spirals into a web of emotions. lines blur between what's real and what's pretend.
genre: fake dating, smau (with narrations), crack with fluff (kind of), hoon and reader are in their mid 20s
warnings: may contain smut, cussing, more to be added
in case of wanting to be part of taglist, please send an ask with what fic you would like to get @ for as I will make one list for each one. series masterlist
taglist (open): @drunkhee @minniejenseo @pkjay @sunghoonsgf @riizenextdoor @m1sskz @yorukoshii
you were deep in thought the whole ride to gunghoon's apartment. your parents kept trying to set you up with men from your father's work, who were incredibly old, and it was starting to bother you. giving in to the thought that gunghoon's mom was pestering him about his lack of a girlfriend, it made you think of something.
you shoot him a quick text saying you were almost there so that he could wait for you by the door. you had known sunghoon for quite a long time, but you were still quite shy to enter his apartment without him greeting you at the door.
he waved at you from where he was standing as soon as your cat entered his field of vision. it was quite a pretty and welcoming neighborhood; it never failed to put your mind at ease.
-
sunghoon had ordered takeout before you got there, which arrived with perfect timing just a few minutes after you did. after playing and eating for a while, you both settled down to have a can of beer on his front porch, admiring the beautiful sunset decorating the sky.
"must be tough, huh?" he asked, looking at the way the cars passed in front of his apartment. you simply gave a nod as an answer, knowing he could see it from his peripheral vision.
"i don't want to lose my life being attached to someone who would most likely ask me to grow up."
it was his turn to nod in response. you left the can that was in your hands on the floor, fidgeting with your fingers. sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be lost in the colors of the sky.
"do you mind if i ask you something?"
it caught you off guard to hear him speak first. you were trying to find the right words to let him know of what you had thought about on your way here.
"not at all, go for it?"
"what if we started dating?"
-
you sat there in disbelief for a minute. sunghoon had taken a long sip of the beer he was holding, then looked back up at the sky.
"i mean, you don't want to date the men your parents are setting you up with, and i want my mother to stop pestering me. so, why don't we just fake date? it's convenient for both of us."
he was right. announcing a relationship would not only stop his mom from bothering him with those comments but could also make your parents give up on the idea of you dating older men for money.
"it's crazy what I'm about to say," you started. he snickered. "but I was thinking the exact same thing when I was driving up here."
"then i think that settles it."
first update, aaahh. im really excited about these fics and how they turn out. if they get attention, i might start making longer stories more often rather than just simple drabbles. but we'll have to wait, i suppose. please do leave an ask, comment, or reblog with your opinion on the update! I promise things get better. this is just the start, hehe.
#— ✿ c's work!#kpop#enhypen#engene#enhypen smut#hard hours#kpop smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon#park sunghoon#sunghoon smut#sunghoon fluff#enhypen fluff#enha x reader#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader
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Joel and Preggo Wife: Baby Talk with Sarah
- - - -
Joel's flexible schedule now owning his own company means he can spend way more time with Sarah. She's still so little, he can't stop taking pictures of her smiley face and fat body sat up in her high chair.
"How bout some lunch kiddo?"
She bounces up and down and slaps her fat wrists on the tabletop excitedly.
Joel scoops some spaghetti strands into her open mouth. He finds himself mimicking her little jaw chewing movements and parting his lips each new spoonful he puts in her mouth.
Sarah rubs her hand in circular motion under her chest.
"What you got sommthin on your chin?"
Joel wets a napkin with his tongue and dabs off the small specs of sauce from her cheeks and chin.
But she continues to rub her hand clockwise. "There's nothing there kid."
She does it again, pinching her fingers now and then rubbing a clockwise circle.
Joel drops the spoon and gets on his knee, patting her chest, cheeks, chin, any possible area that could have some invisible stain that's clearly bothering her.
"Where??" He asks curiously. He lightly grips her fat cheeks and tilts her head side to side, Inspecting closely for any food that might be lodged under all the rolls of fat in her neck.
She starts growling at him angrily, repeating the two motions.
"Don't you get attitudinal with me! There's nothing to wipe!"
You come inside to see Joel furiously wiping her face like there's a sharpie mark on a whiteboard.
Joel, why are you rubbing our baby's skin off."
"She keeps saying there's something here!" He aggressively smothers her whole face with the napkin, and her poor skin is starting to get a little braised from his constant rubbing.
They're both getting frustrated with one another, blown cheeks and scowling brows.
You look over to the half eaten bowl of spaghetti then back at Sarah. She desperately pinches her fingers together and then rubs circling motions again.
"WHERE!" Joel shouts, tossing the napkin down in frustration.
"No, oh my gosh," you laugh, taking the napkin off the floor. "She's signing for "more please"".
"She's--! She's what?"
You repeat the motion: your palm over your chest and draw it in a small clockwise circle "please" and then the pinching of your fingers to your thumbs pulling towards your center "more".
You give Sarah the spoon and plastic bowl and she takes it and feeds herself happily.
"She knows sign?" He asks, intrigued but alarmed. "Is she mute? Did we have a mute kid??"
"I mean she's still a baby so. Kind of now she's not capable of talking, honey. They teach sign at the day care--"
"We have a genius level intellect child!"
"No--it's just easier for kids to communicate through sign since they haven't developed speech--"
"Shh!" He holds his finger up to your lip dramatically as he fetches a pen and paper. "I'm writing down some math equations. I bet she can solve these..."
"Joel."
Sarah pushes her half eaten cold bowl away and starts shaking her head.
"Ooh what does that mean?"
"She's just shaking her head."
"Yeah and what's that mean in sign?"
"It just means no!"
-
A year later, she's piecing together words -- in her own way.
Joel has stopped trying to understand the babbling baby talk. "She doesn't really know anything yet. I thought she was gonna be smart."
"She IS smart. She's been talking this whole time!"
He shakes his head. "Its gibberish. The whole time she was saying nonsense."
You scold him but lean down to Sarah. "What did you and Daddy do today?"
She excitedly look up to you and says: "RaRa y Dada byebyes Spooooo go foe wok n haf babas. See peep peep peeps! y Dada gif RaRa weedadas!!"
Joel chuckles as you nod and listen to each word she says. "There's no way you understood that--"
"Oh? Daddy took Sarah and Spoon in the car for a walk and got some water? And you saw chickens?? And daddy got you balloons???"
Sarah nods furiously, stomping her feet now that SOMEONE finally gets it.
His mouth is hanging open, visually buffering in his brain at how any of those words equated to the sentence you just strung together.
"Where MeeMee?" She asks curiously.
"You right here!" Joel exclaims (he's got the hang of this now).
"No. No RaRa, MeeMee!" She says, emphasizing the last phrase like its something obvious.
"Joel, MeeMee is Tommy," you clarify.
"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS."
"OK listen: RaRa is Sarah."
"But it's not."
"But it is because that's what she's decided. Peep: chicken. Spoooooo: Spoon. Babas: water."
"What is babas."
"Its water. You drink from a bubba mug so baba is water. Weedada: balloon."
"How does that make sense."
"I don't know. Took me a bit to figure out. No idea where she got that from. Byebyes: car. Wok: walk. And MeeMee is Tommy."
Joel stares at you with questionable concern, as you fix the little clips in her hair.
"Babe, I think you're spending too much time together."
You both look up at him together with puffy lips and go "nah uhhhh."
- - - -
Taglist
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel and sarah#the last of us fluff#tlou fluff#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fic#last of us fic#joel dealing with preggo wife
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Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Series Masterlist
The one and only Spider-Woman.
Pairings: WandaNat x F!Spidey!Polish!Reader, OC x Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)
Summary: When your girlfriend cheated on you, you decided to finally accept Tony Stark's offer.
Warnings: Cheating with man, sad R, Homophobia
Wc: 1.2k
A/n: I will put my whole heart in this series😭 Next parts are gonna be longer.
You promised yourself you would always smile while wearing your mask. For this reason your mask was showing the bottom of your face. It was your own project and it had a special place in your heart. You wanted to show people that nitatter what you are doing, and who you fight with, you will always smile, just be happy that you can protect innocent people. Another reason why you projected your mask like that, was the fact that you have fangs. It's not like you use them often, but they can be really helpful. One little bite, and can paralysis villains for a while. S.H.I.E.L.D knew about your existence, and wanted you to join avengers. They even send to you the one and only Tony Stark with Nick Fury. You decided to wait. It was your last month of school, and you had a girlfriend you didn’t want to leave alone.
You graduated with not so bad grades, and you passed all your exams with almost the best scores in your class. You hoped your girlfriend would be with you, but she texted you at the last minute that she needed to take care of her sick mother. You believed her. How could you not? She was almost the most important person in your life. So in the evening you decided to visit her, her mother knew you really well, and was happy her daughter had someone like you. Well, she didn’t know you were a couple, she was a typical homophobic christian, just like most people in your country.
Only thing in her room you could see was how deep she was in kissing a guy. She didn’t even notice you opened the door to her room. Looking in her cold eyes made your stomach flip. You don't even know how... no, when this happened. You don't know when she met him, when he started being the reason she's smiling everyday, when she stopped caring about you. Only thing you can look at are her sky blue eyes you loved looking at. You were always finding your safe space in her, now the only thing you see in her eyes is how much she is disgusted in you. Her words were something you were expecting. You weren't enough. He is a man, of course she would want to be with him, how could she love a girl? You were just stupid thinking he was just her friend.You tried so much to not end up like before. But everything is always the same. You are trying your best, but they are always choosing someone else, someone who isn't so complicated, someone who is.. pure. The most important, they always will choose someone who will fuck with them after a week of dating. They don't understand why you care about romantic things, when you could just let them fuck you. They are animals chasing their own pleasure, don't giving fuck about true love.
It was the first time when you put on your mask and did wear your bright smile.
There was no reason for you to stay. Your friend moved out a long time ago, and for you, your online friends were enough. Your parents were dead. At least for you. Just like you were dead for them. They didn’t want a Lesbian daughter, and you hated them for all the traumas they gave you. You half lived on the street. Most of the time you were spending in school or saving your country. You showed up in your home only if you needed to take a shower or books for school.
“What are you thinking about kiddo?” Tony asked, putting hand on your back.
“You know, just how my girlfriend cheated on me few hours ago, and now Im part of fucking Avengers” You didn’t even looked at him. You only look at changing numbers signaling that you were higher every second.
After running away from your girlfriend's house, you called Tony. Only thing you wanted was to leave as far away and as fast as you could. Break ups were always hard for you. You just wanted to feel loved, feel important for someone. Looking at the sunset on top of one of the buildings was your way to say goodbye to the country you truly love. You promised yourself, you will start a new and better life. No thinking about the past. You need to let it go, and life looking at the future. You knew it would be hard, but you also knew you needed to do this. There's too many open wounds, just because you couldn’t let go thinking about the past every night.
Pretending to smile while meeting everyone was the hardest part. Pretending to be happy while in the back of your mind the only thing you could think of was your exs, and how you couldn’t be enough for them. Tony left you just when you walked out of the elevator. Steve introduced himself and his friend Bucky. You gave them a polite smile and mumbled your name. You just wanted to go to your room and sleep the rest of the day. Next people that introduced themselves were Clint, Bruce and Sam. Last person was Natasha Romanoff. You learned from her that her wife Wanda is on the mission with Thor.
“I hear slavic accent.”
“Oh, yeah… I'm Polish.”
“Tony was one hundred percent sure you're from Russia.” You hate when people mistake you for Russian. It's not even like your languages sound super alike.
“Chuj.” You said to yourself. “Uhm, nevermind.”You looked at the floor when she looked at you. Natasha just laughed it off and you smiled.
(Chuj - Dick)
“I'm guessing you don’t know where your room is?” When your eyes met her forest green ones, you felt like you couldn’t look away, but you needed to. You didn't want her to take you for a freak.
“Yeah… Stark just left me here, and didn’t show me anything.” You rolled your eyes.
“Come with me. Tony decides that you will take Wanda's old room. We have lived together for the past few years, so her room stood empty. It's next to ours.” She said pointing at one of the doors. “So if you need something you can always knock.”
“So… It was nice to meet the famous black widow.” You opened the door to your room.
“It was nice to meet another spider.” After you closed the door you looked around the room. You didn’t take many things with you, so there wasn’t a lot to unpack. Just some clothes and books. Just a few minutes and everything was in their places. You looked out the window and a few seconds later at mask in your hands.
After a while you were jumping between buildings. It's late at night, so one would rather see you. When you get tired of jumping, running and half flying, you sit at the top of a skyscraper.
“So It will be my new life. The spider-woman saving the world.” You laughed to yourself. “It's almost unbelievable.
TAGLIST:
@marvelwomen-simp @andersonsprincess @leenasayeed @sapphic-simp4015 @taliiiaasteria
#marvel#wanda maximoff#lesbian#lgbtq#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanov#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#wandanat#wanda x reader
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New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)
Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.
A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.
This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!
You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.
How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.
However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?
In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.
Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.
R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.
L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!
You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…
You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.
R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.
With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw? As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.
L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!
Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.
R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!
And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.
Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.
First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.
You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.
At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.
When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.
This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!
The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.
You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.
Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.
R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!
You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.
---
“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”
Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.
“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.
“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.
“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”
Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.
A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.
It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.
Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.
Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.
Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!
Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.
Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.
It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.
After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.
Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.
So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.
It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.
“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.
“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.
Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.
---
When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.
The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.
However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.
“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”
You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.
“Could be worse,” you replied.
Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.
“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.
For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.
“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.
“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.
“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.
“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.
You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.
“A cuddle?”
Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.
It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.
“Why did you sit all the way over there?”
All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.
Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.
“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.
“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.
“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.
Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.
Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.
That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.
You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.
In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.
So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.
Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.
Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.
“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.
You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.
Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.
“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.
“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.
“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.
“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”
Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.
“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.
You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.
“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.
“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.
“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.
When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.
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Blurred Lines (m)
synopsis: the lines are blurring- you’re forbidden but he has to have a taste.
paring. soft!yan best friend!jk x Reader
warnings. yändêrê,, flüff, obsèssïvè thöüghts, lôvèsïck jk, DÏRTY thöüghts,, Jungköök is sö nöt pürè LMÁÔ büt wbk.
note. heh. ENJOY AND SEND ASKS FOR HIMMMM ILY GUYS.
DO NOT ROMANTACISE THIS BEHAVIOUR AND I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR IRL AND THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL AND THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT BTS OR JUNGKOOK AS A PERSON.
You’re the one he loves and maybe he’s too late to realise it, you’re singles, yes. But he just got out of a great relationship and you’d never date your best friend.
An angel that was sent in jungkooks dark, plain life to light it up with its radiatingly angelic existence. before you, it was all dark and smoky around him, the constant chaos, bad relationships and gleaming was starting to taint his entire life but then you were always there…
His savior, his salvation. His best friend, YN LN. yes, his YN, the girl of his dreams. Jungkook loves you so fucking much. His love for you is indescribable. Really, he is so devoted to you, but being your devotee was the least he was doing...you were a goddess, you deserved someone better than him.
A lot better, pure. Jungkook knew that he didn’t deserve you, you are like a forbidden fruit that’s so tempting to taste.
Becoming your best friend was a start...for something more...way more that jungkook craved so much. But… he never dared to cross the line, and then Dakhyung came.
He tried to suppress his emotions and feelings for you, how could he love you, his best friend.
But the truth is..
Jungkook is in love with you, his best friend. he has been loving you. His world revolves around you. the most random things you talk about are so lovely to hear...your voice is so soothing.
It soothes jungkooks inner demon that threats to come out and take over him. the one that’s so into you.
Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N and Y/N.
Maybe his interest in you was partly responsible for her cheating on him.. maybe, she didn’t like you.. her loss.
“Kookie!!” Jungkook blinks, Finally pulled back to reality. He tilted his head to look at you, and his mind goes blank.
God, you are so pretty, so fucking beautiful. You are a masterpiece, God’s greatest creation, God’s biggest masterpiece. “KOOKIE!”
“Y-Yes!?” This time a soft smile finds its way to his lips and his cheeks heated up in embarrassment. “yes YN?” You huff in annoyance. “What are you thinking so deeply about, kook. I’ve been calling you for the last 17 minutes.” If it was even possible, his cheeks felt more heated.
if only you kn- “got a crush or something kook? Or thinking about the bitch?”
You interrupt the trail of his thoughts once again. he looks up at you in surprise, his dark doe eyes wide with his mouth agape.
“Fuck Dakhyung.” He refers to his now ex girlfriend. He hates her, to be fair he never loved her, the relationship was rushed, she wanted to be with him and… he was too scared to ask you out.
Dumb move.
But then she cheated on him, what a whore.
“w-what?!” he stutters, his heart threatening to explode in his chest. “What, What kook. A crush. Perhaps you have a crush since you’re so distracted these days...” on your face was a mischievous smile that made him scared.
But she really did him a favour by freeing him.
what if you knew? did his friend tell you? that fucker— “w-why do you think I-I have a crush? How’d you know... Yn.” Jungkook looked everywhere but at you.
“I just got cheated on yn!”
now, don’t get jungkook wrong. He loves you a lot...like it was probably unhealthy. But he hated just how smart you were.
But then again, it is also so hot.
Jungkook shakes his head at his lewd thoughts. Now was not the time. Jungkook liftes his head up to see you so close to his face.
eeeeekkk!
“Y-Y-Yn!!! W-What are you doing!?” With your face so close to his, jungkooks breath hitches in his throat. you really are Gods most magnificent creation. and...
you smell so fucking good. peachy, his favorite scent. “jungkooooookie is innnn looooveee!~” the way your mouth moves was so attractive, your lips were so plump.
So pink and glossy, his mouth was salivating at the sight. nice lipgloss.
Damn your glossy pretty lips.
what does it taste like? Oh he desperately he wishes he could know. His gaze is set on your lips as he forces his frozen mind to think logically.
No! Jungkook is not a pervert. You are pure. He inhales loudly while scolding himself mentally.
Now. is. not. the. time. jungkook.
He closes his eyes and gulpes. These thoughts are haunting, how would your lips feel against his? your soft skin would be heaven to touch…
Just look at you.
stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop— fuck it.
“Y/N can i kiss you?”
maybe he isn’t as pure as he thought.
#jungkook x reader#yandere bts#jungkook smut#bts smut#jjk smut#yandere jjk#yandere jungkook#jungkook x you#jungkook x yn#jungkook imagine#jjk imagines#yandere x reader#yandere smut#yandere boy#jungkook ff#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jungkook fluff#Jungkook imagines#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jeongguk smut#jeongguk x reader#kpop fluff#kpop smut
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Stress Release
Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!GN!Reader
Summary: Spencer needs you to take care of him after a rough couple of days at his new job.
Genre: smut
Word Count: 861
Warnings: pegging, reader is GN but uses a strap-on so?? afab implied, slight cum play, slight overstimulation if you squint, many many pet names (sweet boy, love, sweetheart, darling, baby).
A/N: I needed something to get my creative juices going because I've been in the worst writing slump of my life, so enjoy this quick little blurb of the cutest, subbiest Spence <3
Spencer was splayed out on your shared bed, his previously-gelled hair tousled and spread out on the fresh sheets like a halo around his head, however juxtaposing the current situation he was in - it was far from holy as your strap-on was gliding in and out of him with lewd ease.
The excuse from your boyfriend was that he needed the stress fucked out of him - maybe not put as crudely as that, but you knew what words were floating through his head. Paperwork, cases, and meeting people had been too much for the new agent, and he just wanted you to fuck him dumb for a while, for positive psychological purposes only obviously.
“How’s that feeling, sweet boy?” you cooed, pressing his knees further back to get the right angle to hit that lovely spot deep inside his abdomen.
“Mmm … g-great,” he mumbled, licking his lips and letting his mouth fall open once again.
“That’s good, Spence. Keep your legs like this, please, love.” Your hands moved to hold his slender and naked waist, thus providing you with the perfect leverage to smoothly thrust the thick dildo into his tight hole.
Pegging had been a recent addition to your sex life and you had been surprised when Spencer brought it up one day, timidly explaining how he had stumbled upon it online and wanted to try it out; little did he know, you had been dreaming about that scenario for months. With gentle steps and a good amount of research, it soon became a favourite activity for the both of you.
Spencer didn’t know why he liked it so much. It was probably a mix of being able to let go for once in his life and let someone else do the taking care of, he reflected. And besides, it was nice to not have to think about the logistics of something for a change.
For you? Oh, you loved watching your bright and loquacious genius be reduced to whines and pants every once in a while. It wasn’t a secret that he overworked himself and so you wanted to allow him the space to lay back when needed.
Now, one of your hands had found its way to your boyfriend’s throbbing cock, setting a relentless pace, up and down to give him more relief.
“O-Oh fuck,” he whined as he grasped your arm with a tight grip. “Don’t … stop, d-don’t …” His sentence was cut off when your thumb stroked the underside of his tip, forcing out a guttural moan and a harsh thud as his head hit the mattress again.
You hushed him. “You don’t have to worry, darling. Just relax, I’m here to make you feel good.” He nodded frantically, sucking his lower lip with his teeth to stifle the noises that were begging to escape his mouth.
As much as it was embarrassing, you were sure that your neighbours on the floor beneath your apartment could hear the never-ending squeak of the bed frame grinding against the linoleum, but you couldn’t care less in that moment. Your mind was set on bringing the highest of pleasures to your boyfriend as you skilfully hit his prostate over and over, each push of your hips punctuated with a moan from Spencer.
“P-Please …”
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you asked worriedly, quickly cupping his cheek with the hand that was resting on his waist. “Are you close?”
“Uh huh … please, please l-let me …” The sentence died at the back of his throat.
“Go ahead, you’ve been such a good boy, you deserve this.”
You stopped your actions for a second and swiftly pulled him closer to you from his legs, accidentally ramming the tip of your strap-on painfully hard against his sweet spot. It wasn’t your intention but cum gently dribbled down his flushed dick as he panted.
In an effort to not leave him with a ruined orgasm, you planted your fists on the bed, Spencer’s angelic face between them, and you hiked your knees up onto the edge of the bed before picking up the pace once more and driving the fake cock deep inside him.
“O-Oh …” The man was too far gone drowning in pleasure to have the energy to make noise, eyes screwed shut and fingers fisting the sheets.
“There we go,” you purred. The feeling of more cum being fucked out of him spread across both of your stomachs, creating the most delicious mess you could imagine.
You eventually took pity on him and slowed down your hips and teasingly pressed on his legs to spread them further, pulling back to see his weeping length softening against his porcelain skin.
“You did so well, Spence.” You took your pointer finger and spread the viscous liquid across his tummy, and then slowly traced it to the head of his cock. His hips bucked forward and he hissed.
“D-Don’t … sensitive.”
You giggled and leaned down to give him a soft kiss. “Sorry, baby, you’re so easy to tease.”
Spencer’s eyes opened to meet your loving expression and he smiled in return. “I love you.”
“I love you too, always.”
I hope you enjoyed this! I promise I'll get to writing all the suggestions in my inbox eventually, it means so much to me that people show interest :) thank you
#writingreidisms#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#mgg#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#mgg fanfiction#criminal minds smut#spencer reid smut#mgg smut#spencer reid x reader#mgg x reader#gn reader#sub spencer reid#sub!spencer
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status-da-bruuh
Uma dose apenas
dya-games-blog
DYA GAMES
vesvi-blog
Vesvi.com
killacam-fit-blog
Killacam Fit