#I'm going to go to sleep and simmer in my thoughts

[emile-hides]

What kind of prompts are you looking for?

Here on my main blog, anything to get me into a ramble would be amazing. Ask my opinion or headcanons on a character, ship, arcs, etc. Ask about the AUs I am spinning in my brain, or the plot fixes I've been messing with, my homebrew on how Fairy Tail Magic works, my character redesigns (there's very few of those), anything to get my brain flowing.

You can also go to my ship blog @kakusu-shipping and request Fairy Tail X Readers or Ship Fics/Headcanons, any character, any ship, any amount of detail or lack there of you want, just to get my brain running.

Thanks for taking interest in my need to ramble, I soaked up all of Fairy Tail like a sponge and now I will actually imploded if I don't find some way to use it to create and vocalize my thoughts in some way.

[myfeetrcolddd]

Boundaries? Never heard of them.

Growing up with Theo had desensitized you to things, like how he was always holding your hand, or how he insisted on cuddling anytime you were to sit down on a couch together, or how he would kiss you on the cheek hello or goodbye, except the kiss was hardly on your cheek and right at the corner of your mouth.

Sure, you were aware how the relationship between the two of you was not the average one of two best friends, but you didn't really mind it. You had gotten used to it, it felt weird to even think about things between the both of you being any different.

It was only when Theo got a girlfriend did you realize things would have to change, much to your dismay, and to Theo's too apparently.

"What'd you mean I can't hold your hand anymore?" Theodore looked taken nearly offended as he said those words, his face twisting in confusion and distaste.

"Theo, you have a girlfriend now." You say, wrapping your arms around your middle uncomfortably. "We can't just hold hands all the time, or at all."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Next thing I know you're going to tell me we can't cuddle during movie nights or when I sleep over."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" You exclaim, tired from having to reiterate the same thing over and over. "And from now on we shouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed at sleep overs, if your girlfriend would even be comfortable with us having sleepovers"

"You're being ridiculous, Angel, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"I'm being serious, Theo, I'm setting boundaries now that you've got a girlfriend, and another thing on that list is calling me Angel." Theodore frowned harder(if that was even possible) looking taken aback by your words and down right offended.

"Boundaries? Not calling you a name I've called you since we were kids?" Theo took a step closer, which was really a problem since he had already been to close to begin with. Now he towered over you more than usual, bringing his hands up he rested them on your neck, his thumbs coming up over your jaw as he held your face close to his. His eyes were narrowed and scanning your face as though looking for something, "Has someone casted a charm on you? Maybe some potion. Either way, you're being weird and I don't like it."

"I'm being weird?! I'm not being weird!" You insisted, and you knew you should shove his hands off you, push him away or take a step back...but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You'd always liked his touch much more than a friend should. "Y-you're the weird one! Thinking we could continue as we are while you have a girlfriend."

"Why would we change anything?" He asked, as though he was truly confused. "I like the way things are between us."

"Well I can't imagine your girlfriend likes the way things are. I'm sure that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't like how things are." You had mumbled the last part under your breath, an after thought to your previous sentence, still Theo heard it and his confusion and annoyance turned to something darker.

"Boyfriend?" He questioned, his voice low and more gravely that usual. "What's you having a boyfriend got to do with anything? You, you don't have one do you? No boy here is good enough for you, and I wouldn't change my ways for some sleaze like him."

Theos words had been harsh, a sharp edge to them as he spoke, he'd never spoken like that before, at least not to you. It was odd, he seemed mad at the thought of you having a boyfriend, outraged even, the emotions just simmering beneath the surface.

"No, Theo, I don't have a boyfriend," He looked to deflate a little at this, relaxing slightly, "It's not like I could have gotten one anyway, everyone thought we were dating from the way we acted, and it didn't help that you practically growled at any guy that would try to come up to me." You scoff, annoyed but Theo seemed the opposite, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.

"Was that so bad though? It's not like any of them were good enough for your attention anyways." His hands slid from your neck down to your waist as he seemed to pull you closer.

"Look, we're getting off track. We need to set some boundaries." You press your hands against his chest and push him off you gently, he seems to allow this and walks back a few steps before taking a seat on the edge of your bed and staring up at you. You blushed slightly from the way he was looking at you.

Theo groaned and rolled his eyes, "I still don't see why we need those."

"Because you have a girlfriend for crying out loud!" You say, exasperated form having to repeat yourself, "How would you feel if your girlfriend, the girl you like, had a friend that was overly touchy and clingy and borderline cheating on you with him?"

This seemed to stump him, "The girl I like?" He muttered to himself, then his eyes trailed back to you and his jaw clenched. "No...no I wouldn't like that at all."

"See! That's what I mean. That's likely what your girlfriend is feeling about how we are with each other." But Theo didn't seem like he was really listening at this point.

Inside his head, a switch had flipped for him and he realized something. His eyes widening, lips parting, and cheeks heating up slightly and he turned to look up at you through his eye lashes.

"Shit." He murmured, staring at you and his pupils seemed to dilate. It was like he was seeing you in a whole new light, you were as beautiful as you ever were, the same angel he thought you were all those years ago, but now he realized it was so much more than looked with you. And he was stupid to think this was how best friends were with each other.

Really, could he be any more daft? Standing up, he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting it's prey. He didn't stop until he was closer than before, his hands cradling your head on each side and pulling you close.

His face was right above yours, your noses nearly touching and your breaths mingling. "I'm an idiot." He muttered, his eyes getting lost in yours. "A stupid and blind idiot." His forehead dropped down to yours and he closed his eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Before you could register what was going on his lips were on yours, his hands holding your head tightly against his as he kissed you. You had tried your best not to give in, but you couldn't help yourself because it was the one boy you had liked all your life, finally kissing you, and like his life depended on it at that.

So, you kissed him back, arms twining around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer. One of your hands threaded through the hair on the back of his head and you gripped it tightly and he groaned before kissing you harder.

Then, as fast as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away, cheeks blotchy and red and pupils so big you could hardly see the blue green color of his eyes. "I'm going to fix this. Then I'll be right back." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, "Don't leave." And then another kiss and then he was gone, your dorm door slamming shut behind him as you stood in stunned silence.

A hand lifted to your face and I gently touched your lips, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and your mind was reeling. That wasn't how things were supposed to go...at all.

[guiltyasdave]

one of me is cute, but two though?

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant!f!reader

word count: ~2.5k

summary: Your cat-like mutation gives your life some cat-like qualities... like going through heats.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair but no visual descriptions beyond that, cat-like mannerisms, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, alternating pov, established relationship, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, talk of a potential pregnancy, a smidge of angst because of who i am as a person

a/n: i wrote this as a sequel to help me hold onto you, but it can be read as a standalone. i'm just in love with cat!reader, what can i say.

huge shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality who doesn't even like logan like that, but still patiently listens to me ramble about him nonstop. you're an angel <3

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates :)

Usually, on your days alone, you lounge around in the living room. Sun spills through the large windows, illuminating the space and drawing patterns of light and shadow over the hardwood floor.  

More often than not, Logan comes home to find you curled up on the carpet, dozing in the sun’s warmth, barely awake and slowly moving with its shine as it travels across the room. Your skin glowing, soft breaths purring from your chest. 

He likes to sit down next to you, watching you twitch with the sound of his footsteps. Sleep tends to pull you back under when he reaches out to gently ruffle your hair. He likes to wait until you roll over, bumping into the solid mass of his body. 

Tries to stifle a laugh when you blink your eyes slowly, cocking your head in confusion at the unexpected obstacle in your way. Watches the recognition sinking in and a smile slowly spreading across your face as you sit up. Catches you when you nestle into his waiting arms, a Hey, baby murmured against your lips before they connect with his. 

Nothing is more peaceful than the feeling of your body against him, to be able to run his fingertips over your soft skin while you bury your head in the crook of his neck. It settles in his chest like a weight, an anchor of warmth. The security that you’re his, that you’re safe, right there with him. 

He loves these late afternoons, soaking up the last rays of sunlight with you. Relishing in your slow, unhurried movements, in the way you press yourself against him, in your bright smile between kisses. 

Today is not a usual day. You had been restless as soon as you woke up, your whole body yearning for Logan in a way that is bordering on painful. Your skin is burning, a faintly feverish sensation simmering inside of you, steadily growing as the hours tick by. 

By the time you hear Logan’s car pull up out front, your whole core is aflame with need. The air is thick with the scent of you, so much of you and so little of him. You’ve spent most of the day pacing the cabin, burying your nose in his clothes, curling up on his side of the bed, letting the scent that’s permeating his pillow cloud your senses. It had brought you a brief sense of relief, only for the aching need inside of you to come back with renewed force mere seconds later. 

His nostrils flare when he opens the door, a growl emitting from his chest. You lunge yourself at him without a second thought, legs wrapping around his midst and holding on tight. The steady, blissfully warm embrace of his arms soothes the worst ache instantly. His eyes find yours, pools of darkness reflecting between you. Your breath is going fast, small pants fanning against his lips as you grind on him, desperate for more, more, more. 

Logan holds you with ease, the thought of his biceps bulging sending another wave of arousal through you. 

“Is it time again?” he asks, the deep rumble of his voice traveling straight to your core, stoking the flames. 

You nod, breathlessly, a small mewl escaping when he teasingly bucks his hips into you. 

“Poor kitten.” One hand soothingly scratches the soft skin behind your ears, drinking in the blissful expression on your face that you respond with. “Let’s go take care of you.” 

“Please.” It comes out in a whiny plea, one that pulls at his heartstrings. One that fills him with the instinctual urge to protect you, to give you whatever you need to ban that desperation from your voice. It mixes with his own arousal that’s clawing up his chest, a beast that he can barely contain with how eagerly you welcome it, how you ask for it. 

He keeps you in his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom in long strides. Every time you get jostled by his steps and your core bumps into the growing bulge underneath his jeans, you whine against his neck. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, ripping holes through the flannel and sending delicious pinpricks of pain through him. 

He shushes you gently, tipping your head back up to kiss you again. You respond with hunger, your teeth catching on his bottom lip, demanding more. 

“I’ve waited all day,” you complain, pouting at him between kisses. “Wanted you so badly.” 

He hums, heart clenching at your expression while his cock twitches at the desperate need dripping from your every movement. “I know, baby. I’m here now, don’t worry.” 

Kicking the bedroom door shut without looking, he turns around and pushes you against the dark wood. Trapped between the door and the press of his hips, you whine, hands working  almost frantically to take off his flannel. Logan leans back a fraction, letting you push the fabric down his arms. The scratch of your nails against his bare skin has goosebumps following in its wake. You’re not drawing blood, yet. He can’t wait for when you do. 

The heat of him is all engulfing, wrapping you up like a blanket. Finally he’s here, close enough to taste, to smell, his skin burning almost as hot as your own under your fingertips. You need him, not satisfied until it feels like your bodies are molding into one. 

Urgent fingers drag over fabric, frantically tugging at hems, only disturbed by hungry kisses and panting into each other’s mouths. Ultimately, his bare torso is pressed against yours, muscles rippling under his skin and your fingertips. You lick a generous stripe from his shoulder over his neck, affectionately nipping at his skin, before you find his mouth once more. 

Another groan erupts from his chest, vibrating against your tongue, before he moves you once more. Effortlessly carrying you over to the bed and dropping you onto the sheets, shamelessly staring as your tits bounce with the movement. 

His hands toy with his obnoxiously large belt buckle, your eyes zeroing in on the action as you’re kicking your own pants off. A moan escapes you when he finally pushes his jeans down, taking his underwear in the same motion, his cock springing free before your hungry eyes. It’s a sight that you’ll never get used to. Huge, just like the rest of him. 

He’s back onto you in the blink of an eye, so fast and yet not fast enough with how desperately you need him. He captures your lips once more while his fingers slide down your body. Stopping briefly to toy with your nipples, but quickly moving on until he’s right at your entrance, collecting your slick and rubbing a fingertip over your clit. It’s featherlight, so good and yet not nearly enough. You need all of him, full force, not holding back, smothering every atom of you the way only he’s able to. 

“Logan, don’t tease.” 

Your voice breaks over the last syllable, desperation painting your tone. 

He chuckles out a sorry, so clearly not sorry at all, loving you like this, all needy and pliant for him. Just waiting for the wild, animalistic side of you to emerge, the side that doesn’t plead and just takes.

“What do you need, kitten?” 

Still rubbing soft circles into your clit and greedily drinking in the sight of your writhing, Logan’s other hand possessively curls around your chin, his thumb caressing the corner of your mouth. Tipping your face up, he meets your eyes, your pupils blown so wide that they seem entirely black.

“Need you to fill me up, it hurts so bad, please.” You’re grinding against him, desperate to be closer, to feel every inch of his skin, to finally get him inside of you.

He allows himself a cheeky grin, one that you’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap off his face. “Yeah?” He’s so close, his voice a quiet rasp against your lips. “Want me to pump you full, huh? Give you a whole litter?”

A violent shiver runs through your whole body at his words, your eyes rolling back into your head and your hips bucking up from the mattress. Mewls of please fall from your lips as you reach for him, your grip digging into his waist so forcefully that this time, your fingernails leave deep, red scratches on his skin. 

The pain of it surges through him, flaring up and dying back down as his skin stitches itself back together. He can’t help bucking into you, mirroring your movement. He loves when you turn into this version of yourself, all wild animal, feral to get what you want. 

He can’t deny you a moment longer, not when you bare your teeth at him in a snarl, lost in the haze of your heat. He flips you over like a doll, husks a laugh at your surprised squeal that morphs into a moan when he pulls your hips up harshly, putting you on all fours. A loud hiss escapes him when his cock rubs against your folds. You’re incredibly wet, your slick already sticking to your upper thighs and coating him within seconds. 

“My poor baby,” he coos, a hand soothingly rubbing over the feverishly hot skin of your backside. It turns into a groan when you only arch your back further, your thighs splaying wider apart. You’re putting yourself on full display for him, all needy, all his for the taking. All his.

Sinking in slowly, finally, he grits his teeth to keep from thrusting too harshly into your tight heat. He knows how sensitive you are in your current state, wants to give you time to adjust, to get used to the stretch. It’s not what you want, obviously, as you push your hips back against him, fucking yourself open on his cock. You’re gasping, breaths punching from your lungs, but your movements don’t falter. He meets you with a tentative thrust, chest swelling at the high moan it elicits from you.

“You still want more, huh kitten?”

You’d scoff at his teasing, at the ridiculous nickname, if he didn’t make you feel so fucking good right now. The tension, the emptiness that had been aching deep inside of you all day, finally subsides. A different kind of warmth is building inside your body, slowly spreading through you. Not the burning need that had been eating you up, but deep bliss that is blossoming from your core, now that your body finally gets what it’s been craving.

Reaching back blindly, your fingers wrap around one of his wrists where his hand is gripping your flesh. You don’t have to tell him what you want, he lets go to intertwine his fingers with yours instantly. You feel so safe, so connected to him like this. He bends down, presses kisses into your neck, nips at the skin playfully. 

“Logan… Please,” you whine, desperate for him to hit that spot inside of you that only he seems to be able to reach. “Please, just—”

“I know.” It’s whispered into your skin, sealed with another kiss, before he straightens back up. 

One hand finds your neck in an iron grip and pushes your upper body down into the mattress. His thrusts become deeper, slowing down each time he bottoms out and grinding into you, until you can feel him against your cervix. It’s exactly what you wanted, exactly what your body is asking for. You’re gushing, soaking the both of you with your wetness, your pussy clenching around him in an attempt to pull him in even deeper. 

He growls above you, his other hand wrapping around your hip to steady you. To hold you right where he wants you, as he speeds up, and makes you take it. You’re trying to push back against him, to meet his movements, but he’s heavy against you, each thrust pushing you forward before his bruising grip pulls you back into him. 

You cry out his name again and again, the only word on your mind right now, your whole world reduced to this moment, to him and you. The only other sounds are the wet slap of his skin against yours, and his growls behind you, growing louder with every thrust. Evidence of how the line between man and beast is blurring, how his need is becoming just as animalistic as your own. 

He’s filling you so perfectly, your slick walls stretched around his length, like they were made to take him. Heat, pulsing inside of you, igniting you, blazing through your veins. It has never been like this with anyone else. You’re tightening around him, the fire brightening further, until it’s about to consume you. 

“Logan,” you whimper, knuckles tightening with your grip on the bed sheets. “I’m gonna—” 

He pulls you up instantly, one arm wrapping around you, holding you against his sweat-slicked chest. Nuzzling into your neck, the scratch of his beard almost too much for your already overwhelmed senses, while his hand’s snaking down to your clit, swiping through the mess of your arousal. 

“Give it to me, kitten, come on.” You feel it reverberating where his chest is pressed into your back, feel his breath hot against your skin. 

He’s everywhere, all-encompassing, as the tension in your core pulls impossibly tighter. One more thrust, the angle different than before, and it snaps. You shatter with a scream, your nails sinking into his arm, your whole body trembling while your walls pulse around him, pulling him over the edge with you. 

His own roar is dampened by the skin of your neck against his mouth as he grinds himself deeper, coating your insides with his release. Your hormones spike in reaction, pushing your own orgasm to new heights, until you’re nothing but pure bliss, almost boneless in his arms. 

He holds you tightly, lets the aftershocks slowly subside while he whispers praises in your ear. How good you feel, how well you take him, how you were made for him. How much he loves you. 

Never letting go of his hold on you, he slowly starts moving. Gently maneuvers you until you’re wrapped in blankets and his arms. A kiss on your forehead, another whisper of I love you. 

“Do you think it’s gonna work this time?” 

Your voice is quiet, muffled against his chest where your head rests. He traces your face gently with a fingertip, watches you lean into the touch. 

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe.” 

It’s bittersweet, imagining a family with you. You age slower, but not as slowly as him. God only knows how things would be for a child of yours.

“Picture it, though.” You beam up at him, your eyes shining so brightly that he has no choice but to smile back. “A tiny version of me. Or you.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a reblog or a comment. it absolutely makes my day every time and i'd love to know your thoughts!

[barcaatthemoon]

housewife || mary earps x reader ||

mary makes a comment about you not doing enough around the house, tipping you over the edge.

"mummy!" dillion cheered as mary walked into the flat. you glanced over the back of the couch to watch as your wife took in the chaotic state of things. you had spent all afternoon loading up the things that absolutely had to be shipped to france, but waited to pack up other things for mary to get home.

"good evening my little prince." mary bent down and scooped dillion into her arms. you watched her set him down again and push him towards his room, muttering for him to pick out more toys to pack up. "you know, if you're gonna be home all day, you could at least clean up a bit. i don't work myself to the bone to come back to this."

"mary, i'll give you one chance to tell me that you're joking," you told her. mary looked at you incredulously, as if she couldn't believe your audacity. you matched her look, resulting in the two of you just staring at each other for a couple of minutes.

"i don't want to fight with dillion here," mary told you. it wasn't a resolution by any means. in fact, it was your warning that this was going to sit and simmer with mary for the rest of the week.

whenever you had met mary, you had lived a very different life. you worked for a big company as a marketing advisor. the lionesses had hired you for help, and once you saw mary, it was love at first sight. the two of you hit it off immediately, and within the next year, you were married. you still worked from home sometimes on various little projects, but nothing that would have distracted you from dillion.

he was your son from a previous relationship, and for almost two years, his father had been involved. mary had been very understanding in letting you take time to yourself to figure things out. eventually, she had suggested that you stay home and focus on family. you had been skeptical for this exact reason, but you had agreed anyway. and for years, it worked until it didn't.

you could see the cracks form almost immediately. mary's frustrations with united seeped into your relationship. she was a great wife, but she had grown angry and demanding. at times, you pondered divorce, but no matter how bad it got, you never even mustered up the courage to leave.

"what's with the box?" mary asked as she watched you carry one of the boxes from the hallway closet into the bedroom. most of mary's things were packed away and set to arrive at the new place in france, but you were still sorting through your things. you'd arrive with mary, and then collect the rest of your things when you flew back to england to finish up the last couple of projects you had left.

"i'm unpacking," you told her. mary looked confused, but didn't say anything. you could still see the anger simmering beneath the surface. dillion was tucked away in his bed, fast asleep. you were glad that he could sleep through anything because you had a feeling that mary was going to blow a gasket when you told her your decision. "i don't think that i'm going to france."

mary's phone clattered to the ground. you winced at the sound and knowledge that it was definitely cracked. still, mary made no move towards it. she just stayed frozen in her spot on the bed. mary had cooled down a bit since she had gotten home, and while she wasn't at the point of an apology, she was willing to talk things out with you and try to listen.

"don't be ridiculous, it's a done deal (y/n)." mary was spiraling, and while you wanted to stop it, you knew that you couldn't just give in to her. "i've signed. we talked about this. it's a big step, but i think that we're ready. dillion is so excited."

"mary, i've been trying so hard, but i can't. things were supposed to be different when you signed to a new club, but they won't be. this rough patch, it's not getting better like i thought. maybe we should take some time apart," you told her. mary's eyebrows furrowed and she sat up on her knees to crawl to the edge of the bed. "i think i'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight."

"no, please don't," mary pleaded with you. she followed you into the living room, where you had obviously done some unpacking after putting dillion to bed. "you're serious, aren't you?"

"yes mary, i am. some days, you're exactly the woman that i fell in love with, but most of the time, i don't recognize you. you're angry, and i get that it sucks, but you can't take it out on me."

"i would never take my anger out on you, never," mary said. she tried to move towards you, but you put your hand on her chest to stop her. "(y/n), i've never laid a finger on you. i wouldn't, no matter what."

"not physically mary. i spent all day moving your things around and making sure that everything was packed up correctly. i did all of this with a hyperactive four year old who is struggling to work through his french workbooks. not to mention that i'm also trying to learn this language for you because i know that maybe if i have a head start, i can help you too. i've been doing so much for so long, but all you can ever do when you're here is lay around and complain. i'm done, i won't live like this!"

the look in mary's eyes was nothing short of regret. she crumpled down to her knees, and if it was anyone else, you would have brushed it off as a performance. because it was mary, you just watched as the guilt took over and she began sobbing. the anger turned inward, and mary donned a look that you hadn't seen in years, not since you had nearly broken up before.

"go up to bed. i'll be back," mary told you. she stood up and began to walk towards the door, pausing when she was behind you. "i love you, don't forget that. i love you, i'm sorry, and i don't know what i'd do without you and dillion in my life. if i'm out of the house when he wakes up, tell him i love him too, okay?"

"mary, where are you going?" you asked her.

"for a walk love, go up to bed," mary told you. she didn't move until you were gone, but you could hear the front door shut from the bedroom. this wasn't by any means the night you had envisioned for yourself when you woke up that morning, but you knew that your relationship needed some space. all you could do was hope that you'd see mary in the morning when you woke up.

[inkdrinkerworld]

penny for your thoughts on d. grayson w/ shy/timid/reserved!reader 🫣

Love your lil blurbs and thought pieces for dick grayson, I'm a tad bit obsessed I fear

He eats it up. Dick lives for the fact that you can’t look him in the eye for too long without getting puffy faced and having to shove his shoulder.

“Dick would you stop?”

He would- if you weren’t so damn cute. You get all warm and you get even softer when you speak to him and he’s just living for it.

“I would, but look at your pretty eyes baby. They’re glowing.”

They aren’t glowing, you’re not super powered. But they are simmering- with what? You’d rather not discuss that just yet, Dick Grayson can be somewhat of a pain with his teasing and if you name the ‘glow’ or give him chance to, you’d never recover from his teasing.

Not that you mind.

“I’m going back to the living room now,” you’d just come to the kitchen for your snacks, gummy fish that Dick swears tastes like wax but it’s somehow never out of stock, and pieces of honeycomb.

The team are watching movies tonight, and they’d just started looking at your favourite, Atlantis, a movie Kaldur has his own opinions on but you can’t deny yourself eye candy either way- Milo is just too cute.

“I’m right behind you angel face, plus I think you’re stuck with me for the rest of the movie- everyone else is coupled up.”

True to his word, everyone on the sofas are already coupled up and cozy where they are and there’s only two unoccupied spots left.

Yours and Dick’s relationship is still fresh, so you’d been sitting with Artemis before you left, now she’s sat with Wally, head on his shoulder as he whispers something to her to make her smile.

Your belly churns with nerves- sure you’ve shared a bed with Dick but being all cozied up in front of your friends seem far more intimate than you can manage without combusting.

“Opening credits are rolling, babe. C’mon,” Dick says, nudging you forward with his hip. He sits before you do, patting the spot next to him with a soft smile- knowing anything else will probably send your pulse into overdrive.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he whispers, stealing a fish from your hand with a devilish grin. “Unless you ask me not to, then I’m at your mercy.” He chuckles softly at the way you grumble under your breath, clearly amused by how easy you are to fluster.

He hears something about, ‘so annoying’ and, ‘stupid pretty smile’ and he presses a quick kiss to your temple to keep from chuckling even more.

The night ends with your head in his lap, eyes shut as you start to drift off, not having the energy to stay up during Zatanna’s one hundredth rewatch of a thriller that you’ve seen too many times to be scared of.

“Want me to scratch your back, baby?” You know he’s buttering you up, laying on his sweet charm as you drift off when you’re too tired to be too concerned about the heat that floods you at his attention or find the energy to be too shy and scurry off to the bedroom and wait there for him.

“Please? And,” he cuts you off quietly.

“And put your water back on the bedside, I got you, baby. Close your eyes and sleep, sweet girl.” He swears there’s a smile on your lips as you drift off and maybe even a little heat to your cheeks.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 

“Wait for the potential of us?” 

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 

And it stuck. 

Now? It stung. 

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 

Spencer just stared at the photo. 

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 

“What?” 

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?” 

The three of you moved inside. 

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 

“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 

That bitch. 

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 

“What is the last thing you know about her?” 

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 

“What? What happened?” 

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–” 

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 

Both of them went silent. 

“So is he out?” 

They nodded slowly, silently. 

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing. 

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 

“She took your father and sister.” 

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 

“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He shrugged and stayed silent. 

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 

Emily sighed in agreement. 

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 

And there he was. 

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?” 

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 

Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 

“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you. 

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 

“Last year.” 

“Was he good in bed?” 

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 

“Would you have written me back?” 

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 

“Spencer, are you okay?” 

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away. 

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 

“I should explain all of this.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 

He just nodded, staring at you really. 

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 

It was Spencer who spoke first. 

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 

It’s not the way it used to be. 

“I need to go Spencer.” 

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head. 

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 

“Y/n please.” 

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 

You didn’t. 

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 

But it had to end. 

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 

The doors shut. 

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 

Your heart was aching, burning. 

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 

[anotherlifelesshawksloverplshelp]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweetness

Dabi x reader!!!

Kudos to Mel, she unintentionally gave me ideas to write and getting me to write it in the first place (I was procrastinating like a mf…)

I took a little turn with it and made it sfw. I was gonna add hints, but honestly I'm happy with it as is.

IF YOU WANT A PT. 2/CONTINUATION WITH A LITTLE SPICE PLEASE REPOST/COMMENT AND SAY SO! Also requests are open for now so feel free to bother my inbox.<333

Content/warnings: Insecurity, scars, (idk if those are necessary but i could understand the tw), just fluff, reassurance, and some love<3 2k

...

"Does it bother you..?"

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a late morning. He had been hanging low with the rest of the league for a week and a half now, everyone either recovering, plotting, or taking their chance to just rest. Taking loss after loss was exhausting, so the break was necessary, you thought. Their entire group had years worth of festering emotions, motivations and conviction. Would it be so bad to not sit there and simmer in self pity and loathing for a week?

Dabi had chosen to crash at your place midway through. He didn't mind the group. Whether he was aware of it or not, they were growing on him, but he'd never admit that. But you had grown on him more.

So, when you woke up, turning to see a tired Dabi propped up slightly against your pillows, being dragged out of thought by your stirring and shooting you a sidelong smirk, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sleepy joy sparkle in your chest.

"G'mornin', doll.." he murmurs, his voice sultry, laced with a deep exhaustion that he'd never admit out loud, masking it with his cocky tone. You smile at him happily, scooting a little closer.

"Morning, Tou'..." You snuggle against his arm a bit which he absorbs, letting it feed his ego. He slid that arm under you, wrapping it around and pulling you up against him, looking down at you with those cool blue eyes.

"Like what you see?" Is always the first thing he ever said to you, whether you guys were out and you looked at him to ask a question, meeting up at the hideout, him  stumbling through your window with burns and blood. Something he said without thinking just to get something out of you. His way of saying “hello” or “I see you.”

You nod regardless, used to his arrogant demeanor by now. Your eyes trail the way the white sheets wrapped at his waist contrasted his dark burns along his stomach, the way his staples glimmered with the morning light pouring through the thin, airy curtains, following the curve of his smirk back to his eyes. You stretch up, pressing a little peck to his cheek which he chuckled at like you were amusing, tugging you a little closer, tracing lazy shapes into your back. He lays back a bit before humming "Go back to sleep, doll, I ain’t going anywhere."

You look up at him, tracing the sharp, messy edges of his hair, the way it contrasted to your light room, tracing back down to his glistening staples. You gently reach up and graze his skin, trailing it down his neck to run along the staples on his chest. 

He glanced down at you as you do so, the sensation sweet but dull, a muffled cry to his damaged nerves and thickly grafted skin. His smirk faltered, now just watching you quietly, the way your eyes were drawn to his skin...

"Does it bother you?.."

Your eyes snap up to meet his, furrowing in question. You were used to random or hypothetical questions from him, more often than not posing questions just as an exclamation, like "Who would've thought?" with humour before elaborating, or "Isn't it funny..?" before going on a rant about something having to do with society or heroes. But this... something about his tone was different. You could feel a sudden shift in his demeanor seep into your skin as you rested against him, chest feeling oddly heavy.

Does what bother me?.." You ask quietly.

"My skin. Does it bother you?" He asks again, strengthening the foundation of his tone again so it'd sound more natural to him, but you weren't going to let go of what he had first offered. Your motions stop, reaching up and running your thumb down the staples on his chin before cupping his cheek gently.

"Of course not." You say in gentle disbelief that he would ask that question. You search his eyes as they watch yours, totally still. His large free hand raised to brush against the side of your face, cupping around your ear, stapled palm against your cheek which you leaned into.

He took in the action, watching you with almost sad yet unreadable eyes. He was so expressive in his own ways. He thought he was so slick, but deep down he was just a kid when it came to people. When it came to himself. He’d sit there and argue your lectures when he’d go do something particularly bad or get hurt, answering with short, snarky responses, but his eyes would convey the guilt he felt. He’ll ignore, yell, or disvalue his teammates at face value, but you’ve seen the way he still counts the heads in the room, or his eyes will flicker with concern in a tight situation. He wasn’t inhuman just because he had baggage and some scarring, and your heart ached that he couldn’t see that. That he couldn’t understand you saw him. 

“Don’t give me that..” He murmurs, feigning minor irritation at the look you gave him, but it was more than that. He averted his gaze, opting to look at the wall. He was shutting you out.

You huff softly, giving his hand on your cheek a squeeze at which he glanced at you in the corner of his eye. 

“I don’t need you to pity me.” He states.

“I’m not pitying.” You say shortly, eyes flickering across his expression, the slightest pursing of your lips as you look at him.

He scoffed like he didn’t believe you, and you couldn’t entirely blame him. Nobody likes to accept words offered to them when they feel someone doesn’t have a true understanding. You got a little closer, not overwhelmingly so, but enough to reassert your presence, desperately trying to show you were here for him if he didn’t understand it any other way.

“Your scars don’t bother me. You don’t bother me. If you did, you wouldn’t be in my bed at night. If you did I wouldn’t be bringing you food despite your protests, not caring if you eat it all, just wanting you to eat something. And I think you know that, Touya.”

That’s right. How could he have given you his name? You knew he cared, and he knew you cared enough to share that with you. The name itself made him happy and sick at the same time, but the way you uttered it so sweetly, with genuine care. You could see him. Although nothing could outweigh his goal against his father(which he hadn’t spoken about with you yet, he’s just not ready), maybe your affection was good enough for now. 

He shifted to face you a little more, not entirely on his side, pulling you in close with a sigh. He didn’t like being vulnerable or anything like that, but he didn’t like when he had to shut you out too. He made a steady compromise, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a huff. 

You didn’t know if it would be right to say you loved his scars or not. They were a part of him, whether anyone liked them or not, but you did. Not whether or not they were attractive, or tolerable, but simply because of him. It was a part of his story. It showed his past and what made him who he was now, but it didn’t define him either. If you didn’t like them, then you simply wouldn’t like him. You didn’t know if that was necessary to say to him or not, but in your heart you held it as your truth for him. Instead you simply say..

“I love you, Touya. I’m not going to hate you for something like some skin…”

He looks at you. He knew it could be repulsive. He should know, he lived in it. Skin too tight for himself, scars that he had to stare at everyday, some days it felt more real than others. 

You cup his face and kiss the tip of his nose. “I promise, baby.”

You were too good for your own good, he thought. He didn’t care about your past, anything you may or may not have done. You were too sweet. Sugar that flooded his bitter existence.

“Damn…I love you too, doll.” is all he muttered, but it was sincere. He sounded a little choked, but you knew better than to expect anything to dampen his lashes. You sigh softly, pressing featherlight kisses along where the large scarring patches met the fresh skin, your touch incredibly careful.

He appreciated it. Although you couldn’t hurt him, his nerves being too damaged for anything you do to bother him, the muted sensation of your skin on his was still loved by him. Your affection over the skin he hated so much lifted his heart greatly, you adorning him with love and care steadily chipping away at his rough exterior. What had he done to deserve you?

You reached up, pressing a reassuring kiss on the staples on his chin, watching you sending him a shiver through his entire body pleasantly. It was intoxicating when you loved him, and he swore you damned him into an addiction. 

Your eyes flicked between his, searching gently as his gaze rested on you before pressing a loving kiss to his lips, him reciprocating softly to convey how he loves you back. He can’t help but be handsy either, one hand moving to your ass, the other to your hip to keep you close, humming lowly against your kiss. 

You prop yourself up a little on one arm to adjust the angle to deepen the kiss, which he obliges to, leaning in a little.His hand on your hip slid to your thigh to pull you up and over so you were straddling his hips, tongue grazing your lower lip as a request, but not forcing it, which you allowed. 

His hands trailed up and down from the small of your back to your thighs, touch light and teasing in contrast to his usually harsher grip. He was never this soft. You knew he wanted you, he made that very clear all of the time you two had been together, but it was never really like this. 

He was admiring you. Yes he held an attraction, yes he loved you, but he didn’t always look at you like this. You’d get his approval here, his protection there, but this was different. You cupped his face, breaking the kiss to watch the way his gaze softened over you, looking up at you, his expression almost sad. You peppered his face with kisses. His forehead, his brows, under his eyes, all along his cheeks. He drank it all, basking in your affection, eyes fluttered shut as you did before cracking a smirk and catching your lips once more to stop you. 

“Hey hey hey, leave a little room for air, wontcha?” He chuckles, his voice and tone a sweet break from the previous conversation, which you giggled to. He stopped you and pulled you to his chest, hand on the back of your head as he held you there softly, sighing, a sigh that expressed the genuine relief he felt deep in his chest. 

You loved him. And he was coming to terms with loving you too. Maybe there was something else to live for other than hate after all. One other thing that would make this inevitable march towards his death worthwhile. Maybe… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 9/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Soldier Boy being a dick, mind games, teasing

Word Count: 4119

A/N: This is part 9 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You squirmed beneath his touch, a mixture of desire and apprehension coursing through you as you struggled to maintain your composure.

But just as he was about to proceed, something in him seemed to shift. With a furrowed brow, Ben looked up at you, his gaze clouded with uncertainty as he took in the impact of the alcohol on your demeanor.

He knew that if he were to go any further, you wouldn't remember a thing in the morning.

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of the decision hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a heavy sigh, Ben reluctantly pulled away, a flicker of remorse crossing his features.

"Not tonight, princess", he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "You deserve better than this".

And with that, he gently pulled your panties back up, covering your exposed skin with a tenderness that belied his usual demeanor.

Though a part of him longed to give in to his baser instincts, he couldn't bring himself to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state. With anyone else yes, but not with you.

As Ben laid down next to you, his expression hardened once more as he tried to maintain his usual facade. You, already halfway passed out from the effects of the alcohol, slurred your words as you turned to him with bleary eyes.

"Why won't you sleep with me, Ben?", you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and longing.

Ben's jaw clenched visibly at your question, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

"Because, princess", he replied, his tone cold and dismissive. "I don't waste my time on inexperienced girls like you". He still needed to keep his walls up, don’t show too much emotions.

 Your brows furrowed in confusion, the alcohol dulling your senses and making it difficult to comprehend his words. "But I want you", you protested weakly, reaching out to touch his arm.

“You don't know what you want", he sighted. "You're drunk".

Ben's words cut through the haze of alcohol, sobering you up for a moment as you processed his harsh rejection. Despite the alcohol coursing through your veins, a pang of hurt pierced through your foggy mind at his callous dismissal.

"I do know what I want", you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to sit up. "I want you, Ben"

But Ben remained unmoved, his expression stoic as he refused to meet your gaze. "No, you don't know what you want," he repeated, his tone tinged with frustration. "You're drunk, and I'm not interested in being your mistake".

With a heavy heart, you sank back onto the bed, the weight of his rejection settling over you like a suffocating blanket.

As you lay asleep beside him, lost in the depths of intoxication, Ben couldn’t help but steal a glance in your direction. His gaze lingered on your peaceful features, softened by sleep, before reluctantly shifting to his own body, where a massive boner strained against the fabric of his sweatpants.

With a heavy sigh, Ben muttered to himself, his frustration palpable in the air. “God, it’s hard—literally—to be the good guy for once”.

Despite his inner turmoil, he couldn’t deny the surge of arousal coursing through him at the sight of you, vulnerable and trusting in your slumber. With a conflicted expression, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “You’ll thank me tomorrow”, he murmured.

And with that, Ben settled back against the pillows, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he struggled to quiet his thoughts. For once, he had chosen to be the better man, to resist the temptation that beckoned him with every breath. As he lay there, wrestling with his desires and his conscience, he couldn't help but hope that perhaps, you would see him in a different light.

But for now, all he could do was wait and wonder what tomorrow would bring, and whether his decision to resist the pull of temptation would ultimately be worth it in the end.

As the morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your slumber, a dull ache pulsing behind your temples. Blinking away the sleep, you glanced around the room, your heart skipping a beat when you spotted Ben's naked back turned towards you.

Panic surged through you as you realized the situation. Memories of the previous night flooded back, hazy and disjointed, as you struggled to piece together what had happened. And then, as you shifted beneath the covers, you felt the cool air against your skin and glanced down to see that you were wearing nothing but your panties.

Your breath caught in your throat as the reality of the situation sank in, the panic rising within you like a tidal wave. Hastily, you scrambled to cover yourself, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you desperately tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding around you.

With a pounding heart and a mind reeling with confusion, you couldn't help but wonder what had transpired between you and Ben. And as the memories began to slowly piece themselves together, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that perhaps, you had made a mistake that you would come to regret.

As Ben groaned and slowly turned towards you, his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a sleepy gaze. Instantly, he sensed the panic radiating from you and couldn't resist the urge to tease you, at least for a little while longer.

"Morning, princess", he said, his voice husky with sleep as he stretched languidly. "Sleep well?".

Your heart raced as you searched his expression for any hint of what had happened between you the night before, but all you found was amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I, uh...", you stammered, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you struggled to find the right words. "I don't really remember much".

Ben chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, that's a shame", he replied, his tone teasing. "You were quite the handful last night".

You felt a knot form in your stomach as you braced yourself for what was to come.

Ben couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you further, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he spoke.

"You know, (Y/N)”, he began, his tone light and teasing, "I didn't realize you were a virgin".

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, a blush creeping across your cheeks as you struggled to process what he was saying.

As Ben's words sank in, a wave of shame washed over you, and your heart sank like a stone in your chest. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you grappled with the weight of the misunderstanding. How could you have let this happen? How could you have been so careless?

"I...I didn't want...", you started, your voice choked with emotion as you struggled to articulate the turmoil raging within you.

But Ben, oblivious to your distress, continued to jest, his tone light and indifferent. "Hey, no need to get all worked up about it", he interjected, his smirk widening. "We both had a good time, right?".

His words cut you like a knife.

As Ben’s teasing words continued to echo in your mind, you felt a surge of anguish and anger bubbling up within you. How could he be so flippant about something so significant? Didn’t he understand the gravity of the situation?

“I can’t believe you”, you muttered, your voice trembling with emotion as you turned to face him, your eyes ablaze with indignation. “You really think it’s funny, don’t you? To just take what you want without a second thought?”.

Ben's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement as he reveled in your discomfort. "Come on, sweetheart", he taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. "You can't deny you enjoyed it. You took me like a champ, even with how big I am".

The realization sinking in that you couldn't even remember your first time.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it", he continued. "You'll thank me later for showing you a good time".

Fueled by a mix of anger and hurt, you shot Ben a withering glare, your fists clenched at your sides.

"Fuck you, Ben", you spat, your voice trembling with emotion. "I hope you rot in hell".

With that, you stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud. Ben's laughter echoed in the empty room.

"Well, princess", he called after you, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's no way to talk to the man who just took your virginity".

His words hit you like a slap in the face, a fresh wave of anger washing over you as you fought to hold back tears.

Ben chuckled to himself, relishing in the chaos he had caused, before slowly getting out of bed. His smirk remained firmly in place as he stretched languidly, the events of the previous night already fading into the recesses of his mind.

Meanwhile, you retreated to the bathroom, your heart heavy with the weight of Ben's behavior. The hot water spilling over you, washing away the physical and emotional residue of the night before. But no matter how hard you scrubbed, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had been used.

As the steam filled the small confines of the bathroom, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to wallow in your misery, the tears mingling with the water cascading down your face.

It took you a few minutes to regain your composure.

But eventually, with resolve in your heart, you refused to let Ben's presence intimidate you. You emerged from the bathroom with wet hair, a defiant expression etched upon your face.

As you made your way to the porch where Ben sat, eating breakfast that the staff had brought him, you ignored the prickling sensation of his gaze upon you.

Ben's smirk greeted you as you approached, his eyes gleaming with amusement at your disheveled appearance. But you refused to let his taunting affect you, instead meeting his gaze with a steely resolve of your own.

Without a word, you took a seat opposite him, the air between you heavy with unspoken tension. Though his presence still irked you to no end, you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cower.

But beneath the veneer of amusement, there was something else lurking in his gaze—a glimmer of curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even a hint of respect.

As you picked at your own breakfast, the silence between you stretched on, punctuated only by the distant sound of crashing waves and the occasional chirping of birds.

"So, how does it feel?", he quipped. "Now that you're not a virgin anymore?".

Before you could respond, Ben's gaze drifted down to your chest, his eyes lingering on your breasts with a hunger that made your skin crawl.

"I must say, sweetheart", he continued, his voice low and suggestive. "Your body certainly didn't disappoint. Especially those tits of yours".

Ben's teasing continued unabated, his words like daggers slicing through the fragile armor you had erected around your heart.

With each jest, the weight of his mockery grew heavier, until it became almost unbearable.

"Aw, princess, don't tell me you're getting emotional on me", he taunted.

"I thought you were tougher than that".

His words only served to fuel the storm of emotions brewing within you, and before you knew it, tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes. Blinking furiously, you struggled to hold them back, to maintain some semblance of dignity in the face of Ben's relentless onslaught.

"I...I just wanted it to be special", you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to articulate the jumble of thoughts and feelings swirling within you. "Not...not like this".

The vulnerability in your words hung heavy in the air.

Ben's smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of something resembling remorse crossing his features. But before you could fully process the shift in his demeanor, it was gone, replaced once again by his trademark arrogance. "Come on, sweetheart”, he said, his voice softer now, though still tinged with mockery. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not like it's the end of the world".

His words cut through you like a knife, the sting of his callous indifference leaving you reeling. And as you sat there, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss wash over you. Continue. Let Ben sight heavy, telling you, that the two of you can recreate last night, later that day. Winking at you. His words got you even more sad

Ben's heavy sigh filled the air, a palpable tension lingering between you as he spoke.

"Hey, it's not all bad", he said. "We can always recreate last night, you know. Make it special this time".

As the weight of your emotions hung heavy in the air, Ben finally seemed to register the depth of your hurt. His smirk faded, replaced by a fleeting look of concern that quickly vanished behind a mask of indifference.

“Hey, stop crying”, he mumbled.

After all you crying was the last thing he wanted to see. But despite his half-hearted attempt at compassion, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his concern was more for appearances than genuine care.

His words felt hollow, like a bandage over a gaping wound that refused to heal.

“I’m fine”, you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you avoided his gaze.

“C´mon on, sweetheart”, he urged, his tone bordering on impatient. “Eat something. We’ve got a long day ahead of us”. The mention of his plans of getting some weed and stuff, pushing aside your own pain for the time being.

As the days passed, the initial sting of betrayal began to fade, replaced by a sense of resignation and acceptance. While part of you still harbored resentment towards Ben for his role in the events that had happened, you couldn't deny that ultimately, it was your own choices that had led you down this path.

Tonight, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the beach house, you and Ben sat on the porch, sharing a pizza in silence. The tension that had hung heavy between you had dissipated, replaced by a sense of weary camaraderie.

As you took a bite of pizza, savoring the familiar flavors, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Ben. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was a part of you that still longed for something else.

"Damn, I'm fucking horny", he muttered after a while, reclining back in his sun lounger. His bronzed body glistened with droplets of water from a recent dip in the ocean, the fading sunlight casting a golden glow over his features.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his blatant display of lust, though a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Always the charmer, aren't you?", you teased, taking another bite of pizza.

Ben chuckled, the sound rich and throaty in the evening air. "Hey, can you blame me?", he retorted, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's not every day I get to spend time with such a hot companion".

Despite yourself, you felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment, a warmth spreading through you at the unexpected praise.

"Flattery will get you nowhere”, you replied, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the amusement you felt.

As the evening unfolded, the comfortable atmosphere between you and Ben gave way to a moment of vulnerability.

With a shy glance away from him, you found yourself asking a question you never thought you would.

"Um, Ben", you began, your voice hesitant as you struggled to find the right words. "I know this might sound strange, but...do you think, maybe, you could...sleep with me tonight?".

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you waited for his response, unsure of how he would react to your sudden request. Ben's reaction was immediate, his whiskey momentarily forgotten as he visibly choked on his drink.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, a mixture of shock and uncertainty flickering across his features. "You...you want to sleep with me?", he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he tried to process your request.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze as you felt a surge of self-doubt wash over you.

"I mean, it's just...I can't remember my first time", you admitted. "And since you...you already took my virginity, I figured it wouldn't...damage more than it already does".

The words hung heavy in the air between you, the weight of your confession echoing in the silence that followed. And as you waited for Ben's response, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, this was a mistake.

Ben sighed, a hint of frustration tainting his words as he prepared to come clean.

“Look, sweetheart”, he began.

You glanced up, apprehension flickering in your eyes as you waited for him to continue.

“I didn’t sleep with you that night”, Ben confessed, his gaze flickering away as if unable to meet your eyes. “I know it might seem like I did, but I didn’t”.

His admission hung in the air, as you struggled to process his words.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, your voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

He knew that this was his second chance to finally get you, but even he’s a dick, he won’t ruin your first time, especially after you showed him how important it is to you.

Ben took a deep breath, steeling himself for your reaction. "I mean, I didn't want to take advantage of you", he explained. "You were wasted, and I didn't want your first time to be like that".

You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in as you realized the depth of his restraint. Despite his flaws, Ben had shown a surprising level of decency in choosing to protect you rather than succumb to his own needs.

"I'm a dick, but not that big of a dick", he added with a wry grin. "You deserved better than that, even if I'm not always the best at showing it".

As his words washed over you, a sense of gratitude welled up within you, mingling with a newfound respect for the complexities of his character.

"Thank you", you murmured and reached out to squeeze his hand. "For caring enough to do the right thing".

It took you a while to gather your thoughts, the weight of Ben's confession between you. But eventually, you turned to him again, your voice steady as you posed the question that had been weighing on your mind.

"Ben, do you want to take my offer or not?", you asked, your tone tinged with determination.

Ben raised an eyebrow, his expression incredulous as he processed your words. "Why the fuck would you want me, of all people, to be your first?", he blurted out, his tone laced with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

You took a deep breath as you prepared to lay bare your thoughts and feelings. "Because", you began, your voice steady despite the uncertainty. "Despite everything, I trust you. I know you're not perfect, but you've shown me that you care, in your own way. And maybe...maybe that's enough".

A heavy silence settled over the porch, the weight of your confession mingling with the fading light of the evening.

Ben listened to your words: He ran a hand through his hair, his expression troubled as he struggled to find the right words to respond.

"Listen, sweetheart"; he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But I'm absolutely not the right man for something like this".

As Ben's words sank in, a sense of determination welled up within you, fueled by the realization that you were willing to take a chance, despite the risks. You stood up, feeling the weight of your conviction settling over you as you made your way over to where Ben sat on the lounge chair.

Sitting beside him, you met his gaze, your eyes locking with his as you searched for any hint of doubt in his expression.

"Ben", you began, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. "I understand that you're hesitant, but I want this. I want you".

His expression remained guarded, a hint of skepticism in his eyes as he regarded you. "You think you can handle me?", he scoffed. "I'm not exactly the type to play nice, sweetheart. You wouldn't last a minute with me".

You bristled at his dismissive tone, refusing to back down. "I'm not some delicate flower, Ben. I'm stronger than you think".

“Why settle for someone like me when you could wait for some little boyfriend to come along and fuck you to sleep with some romantic music?”, he challenged, his words laced with a hint of mockery.

“Because I don’t need some fantasy to make this meaningful”, you shot back. “I want this with you, Ben. I trust you”.

His expression softened slightly at your words, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “You trust me?”, he echoed, his tone tinged with disbelief. You nodded, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.

“I do”, you affirmed, your voice filled with conviction.

“And what if I can’t do it your way?”, he raised his eyebrow. “What if I end up hurting you? You think you can handle that?”.

You met his gaze, steeling yourself against the doubt in his eyes. Despite his dismissive tone, you remained resolute in your conviction.

“I trust you to figure it out”, you replied. “I know you won’t intentionally hurt me, Ben. And if, I’ll deal with it”.

Ben regarded you with a skeptical eye, his lips twisting into a smirk of disbelief.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who’s never been with a real man”, he mumbled.

"I know what I want", you shot back, your voice firm. "And I'm not afraid to go after it, even if it means taking a risk with you".

Ben's smirk only widened, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, princess", he drawled. "If you're so sure about this, then I'll play along. But don't say I didn't warn you".

Despite his condescending tone, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at having finally convinced him to give you a chance.

Ben finished his drink with a dismissive scoff, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't expect me to hold your hand through this", he remarked, his tone tinged with condescension. "You wanted it, now you're getting it".

Standing up, he cast a sidelong glance at you, his expression smug as he whistled casually. "Bedroom", he nodded towards the direction, his meaning clear.

Your eyes widened at his directness, caught off guard by his bluntness. "Now?", you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Ben rolled his eyes, his impatience evident. "Yes, now", he replied, his tone dripping with annoyance. "Unless you've changed your mind, princess".

With a hint of challenge in his gaze, he gestured towards the bedroom once more, leaving the choice in your hands.

As nervous anticipation flooded through you, uncertainty clouded your thoughts.

You weren't sure how to act or what to expect as Ben's blunt directive hung in the air.

Sensing your hesitation, Ben's smirk widened, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Relax, sweetheart", he grinned. "I'll show you what you've been missing".

With a swift movement, he reached out and grabbed your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. Pushing you softly by your shoulders towards the bedroom.

As Ben guided you towards the bedroom with a firm yet gentle grip, you felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

His confident demeanor both intimidated and excited you, leaving you eager to see what the night would bring.

As you entered the dimly lit room, Ben turned to face you, his smirk still in place.

"Now that we're here, princess, no turning back", he remarked.

You swallowed nervously, the weight of his words sinking in as you tried to quell the fluttering in your stomach.

"I know", you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's smirk widened as he closed the distance between you, his eyes alight with mischief. "Good", he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Because once we start, there's no stopping".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 10

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

[rispwr]

Still with you - JK - MDNI - PART ONE

pairings : ex!jk x ex!reader

genre : fluff, angst

context : after breaking up with your boyfriend for 14 years for cheating on you, choosing to still stay with him in his apartment wasn't quite the best idea. especially after seperating.

warnings/contents : smut, mentions of ppregnancy, cheating, rape, unprotected sex, alcoholism, degrading, and this jungkook should be a warning.

songs : house of balloons, swim, into it, goodluck, babe, so high, bloodline

this fic only has maybe 2 or 3 chapters

I wake up on the couch, feeling the ache in my back from sleeping in the same uncomfortable position all night.

 It takes a moment for everything to come rushing back—the familiar smell of his apartment, the soft hum of the refrigerator, and the memory of why I'm here in the first place.

I sit up slowly, wincing as I push the blanket off me. My clothes from yesterday are wrinkled, sticking to my skin in all the wrong places. I hate that I’m still here, stuck in this stupid situation, relying on him of all people. I run a hand through my tangled hair and look around, trying to remind myself that this is temporary. Just a month. I can survive a month.

The bedroom door creaks open, and I stiffen. Of course, he’s awake. Jungkook steps out, looking annoyingly casual in his sweatpants and t-shirt, his hair all messy like he just rolled out of bed. He sees me and flashes that stupid smile, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat. Now, it just makes me want to throw something.

"Morning," he says, his voice soft.

I don’t respond, refusing to meet his eyes as I start folding the blanket. Each movement is sharp, almost aggressive. I focus on the fabric in my hands, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling. Why does he have to act like everything’s fine? Like he didn’t just cheat on me?

Jungkook walks past me to the kitchen, humming some tune under his breath. I hear the coffee maker sputter to life, and the smell of brewing coffee fills the room. It’s almost enough to calm me down. Almost.

"if you're still not over about that babe-" before he could utter a word, i cut him off " don't call me babe."

I grit my teeth and ignore him, the anger simmering just below the surface. The blanket finally folded, I toss it onto the couch with a little too much force and cross my arms, glaring at his back. He’s acting like nothing’s wrong, like he didn’t break my heart just a few weeks ago.

"I wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch if I didn’t have to be here in the first place," I mutter under my breath, knowing he’ll hear.

Jungkook pauses, glancing back at me. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms like this is just another one of our casual conversations. Like we’re still friends or something.

"You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need," he says, his tone irritatingly calm. "I don’t mind."

That’s not the point, Jungkook. I wouldn’t need to stay here if you hadn’t fucked up and cheat on me like i was nothing.

I stop myself before I go down that road again. We’ve been over this too many times, and it never ends well. I bite my lip, turning away from him and grabbing my phone from the coffee table. I need to get out of here. Anywhere but here.

"I’ll be out of your hair soon enough," I say, more to myself than to him.

I can feel his eyes on me, that gentle concern that used to make me feel safe but now just makes me feel...trapped. I don’t look back at him as I head to the bathroom, needing a moment alone to pull myself together.

i went to the bathroom

I close the bathroom door behind me, leaning against it as I let out a shaky breath. 

My heart’s still pounding, adrenaline making my hands tremble slightly. It’s always like this.

 being around Jungkook is like walking on a tightrope, and I’m constantly teetering on the edge. I can’t even look at him without feeling that mix of anger and something else I don’t want to name.

I turn to the mirror, avoiding my own reflection for a moment as I focus on the running water, splashing some on my face. The coolness helps, grounding me a little.

 My fingers shake as I comb through my hair, trying to smooth out the mess that sleeping on the couch always leaves behind. It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone, but I can’t stand looking as disheveled as I feel inside.

Why does he have to be so calm?

 So unaffected by everything?

 It’s like nothing phases him, like he doesn’t care that I’m practically bursting with everything I haven’t said.

 I clench my teeth, rubbing at the dark circles under my eyes. I haven’t been sleeping well. how could I, in this situation?

I need to get out of here.

 I can’t stand being in this apartment any longer, can’t handle the way it makes me feel trapped. I don’t even know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here.

 I grab my toothbrush, quickly brushing my teeth as if it’ll help me escape faster, then run a hand through my hair again, tying it up in a loose ponytail. It’s the best I can do with the time and patience I have.

The moment I step out of the bathroom, I feel the weight of the apartment pressing down on me again. Jungkook’s still in the kitchen, probably drinking his coffee without a care in the world.

 I grab my bag from the couch, trying to be quiet about it, but the strap catches on the blanket, making me fumble. My breath catches as I hear him shift in the kitchen, like he’s going to say something, but I’m out the door before he gets the chance.

The cool air hits my skin as I walk into the coffee shop, offering a welcome escape from the heat outside. I’ve been coming here a lot lately. maybe too much. but it’s one of the few places where I can just...breathe. 

No drama

no tension

no jeon jungkook

just the comforting smell of coffee and a quiet corner to lose myself in.

As I approach the counter, I notice a new barista. He’s got dark hair that falls over his eyes, giving him a kind of laid-back vibe that instantly catches my attention.

 There’s something about him that seems...different. He’s not just going through the motions like most baristas.

 He’s calm, almost serene

as if he’s moving at his own pace, completely unaffected by the rush of the city outside.

I find myself lingering a little longer than usual, trying to read the chalkboard menu even though I already know what I’m going to order. When I finally step up to the counter, he looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine with a gentle curiosity.

“Hey, what can I get you?” His voice is smooth, a little deeper, and I can’t help but notice the way his lips curve into a small, almost shy smile.

“Just a latte, please,” I reply. There’s a warmth in his gaze that I can’t quite place, something that makes me feel like he actually cares about what I’m going to order. 

It’s silly, but it’s nice.

He nods, turning to start on my drink, and I watch as he moves with an effortless grace, like he’s done this a million times but still finds some sort of joy in it. 

There’s a quiet confidence about him that’s both intriguing and comforting.

As he works, I find myself leaning against the counter, feeling more at relax than I have in days. “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago,” he replies without looking up, focused on the precise art of frothing the milk. “Name’s Yoongi.”

“Y/N,” I say, offering a small smile, even though he can’t see it. “I come here a lot, so...guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

He glances up at that, his eyes meeting mine again, and this time, there’s a flicker of something. more of a spark of interest that makes my heart skip a beat.

 “I’ll look forward to it.”

My smile widens a little, and I duck my head, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. There’s something about him that’s just...easy. Natural. Like we’re already friends, even though we’ve barely exchanged a few words.

He finishes my latte and slides the cup across the counter with a soft “Here you go.”

 I take it, our fingers interact for the briefest moment, and I swear I feel a tiny jolt of electricity at the contact.

Maybe it’s just the caffeine deprivation, but I can’t shake the feeling that this guy—Yoongi—might be exactly what I need right now.

“Thanks,” I murmur, taking a sip. It’s perfect, just the right amount of foam, the espresso rich and smooth. I glance back at him, and he’s watching me with a quiet smile, like he’s pleased that I like it.

“See you around, Y/N,” he says as I turn to leave, his voice lingering in the air even after I’ve stepped away from the counter.

I find my usual spot by the window, sinking into the plush chair with a contented sigh. 

There’s something about that new barista that makes me want to come back here, even more than I already do.

 It’s not just the coffee, although that’s definitely a bonus.

 It’s him. 

the way he made me feel like I wasn’t just another customer, like maybe I was someone worth getting to know.

As I sip my latte, I catch myself smiling, a real, genuine smile that I haven’t felt in a while.

 Maybe things aren’t so bad. Maybe, in this little coffee shop with its warm light and soft music, I’ve found something, or someone...worth sticking around for.

[literallydontknowdontcare]

I’m literally BEGGING a Vanessa x fem!reader where Vanessa gets jelly and it ends up in rough/angry sex

You DO Own Me

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem Reader

PLUS this request: “Can we get Vanessa fucking y/n roughly? Like pulling hair, biting neck and scratching back type of rough?”

a/n: yessir 😜 merged this request with another anon as they coincide… sorry for the delay in fics. I am still sick but that not my excuse: my excuse is I'm lazy lol. This may be shit, sorry ;')

Content/Warnings: Top/Rough Vanessa, Bottom sub reader, smut, choking, strap use [r receiving], rough sex, not proofread/edited, Vanessas kind of an asshole but that's hot

w/c: 2024

The ride home was silent. Well, not completely. Though Vanessa was extremely unimpressed, her lips pressed together and her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, you were having the time of your life. Under the influence of alcohol, you were giddy and chatty, oblivious to your girlfriend's simmering anger beside you.

“And I literally told Mike that he was insane for thinking those robots cut him in his sleep, but of COURSE he decided to ignore me and continued to take those pills. I mean, really? The poor man is half asleep most of the time!”, you huff, recalling your last shift. “What do you think?”, you turn to Vanessa, your half dazed, half-blushed face informing her that you really did have no idea that she was mad.

“Mm”, she replied, uninterested. You, again, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “I know! Maybe I should replace them with some melatonin gummies.. He probably wouldn’t notice”, you giggle, rolling down the front window to breathe. Fanning yourself, the alcohol making you overheated, you gaze at the stars outside in awe. The outdoors really does hit differently when you’re drunk. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was seconds from snapping. Pulling into the driveway of your shared home and parking her personal vehicle beside her cop car, she immediately stepped outside as soon as the gas turned off and slammed the door shut, ignoring your own door and walking to the front of the house. You frown, beginning to zone back in.

“Maybe she just forgot”, you think, in reference to her not racing to open your door or offering to carry you inside as she usually would. Stumbling out of the car, you follow behind her into the house. “Vanessa?”, you ask aloud, wondering where she disappeared to in the span of two seconds. Pausing, you try to listen for any footsteps around the house for any indication of her location. Nothing. “Vanessa? Baby?”, you repeat, concerned now. Half limping, you shrug off your jacket and kick off your heels, wandering around the house. Finally, in the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs office light getting turned on.

Sprinting up the stairs, going as fast as your tipsy body would allow you to, you head for the office. Before you could open the door you heard a mumbling sound. Cracking the door open, you witness your girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, yes. I understand. I just thought- no thank you. I’ll be alright. Sorry for the misunderstanding”, Vanessa answered someone on the line, grinding her teeth when she saw you enter. “Thank you. Have a good one”, she hung up the phone, turning away from you and leaning against the desk.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?”, you whisper. She snorted.

“What? Now you notice?”, she spits, still not turning around.

You bit your lip, anxious at her reply. “What was the phone call about?”

“Work. Nothing for you to worry about”, she then laughs. “Not that you were, to begin with”. She leans over the desk, reaching for a pen and paper to jot something down, and you try to not let your mind race with thoughts of her rolling her hips forward as you can tell she needs comfort right now, not a horny girlfriend.

You walk towards her nervously. “Are you okay baby? You were fine in the car-”

She snaps at you. “No. I wasn’t. If you weren’t so lightweight you would know that”. Stillness filled the air, the only noise coming from the scribbles of the pen as Vanessa jotted down the information from the phone call.

Coming up behind her, you gently place your hand on the back of her arm. “Is this- is this about Mike?”, you watch her jaw clench from the side. Blinking in surprise, you reiterate. “It is? Isn’t it?”

“Drop it”, Vanessa scowls, shoving herself off the table. Your foggy brain couldn’t help but think ‘muscle memory’ with the way she practically ground against it in annoyance.

“Are you serious? He’s a respectful guy! His old crush means nothing”, you protest.

“Nothing? You make me sick”

“What do you want from me? For me to spit on him and never talk to him again?”, you snap, frustrated now.

She crosses her arms. “Preferably”, she snickers. She comes closer to you. “Or maybe you like the attention? Hm?”

You pull away, hurt. You’d like to believe she was drunk saying this, but she was completely sober. “Vanessa-”

“Poor you, huh? Do I not give you enough attention? Is my poor baby always so needy”, she mocked, snarling.

You blink away tears and begin to walk out of the office when you feel a gust of wind and a sudden thud against your back. Gasping, you slam into the wall, your head narrowly missing the collision. Before you could turn around, you felt Vanessa pin your hands behind your back, her cuffs clenching around your wrists and shutting with a loud ‘click’.

“What the fuck Van-FUCK”, your sentence gets cut off as you hear a loud smack; Vanessa had just hit your ass. You feel numb for a few seconds, and then everything after that. You whine out, trying to cover yourself as she grabs your cuffed wrists and pins them above your head, her other hand coming around your waist to arch your back towards her. “Always whining. Never taking what I give you”. She slaps you again, the force of her hand biting your skin, surely leaving red marks that would turn purple tomorrow. You bite your lip, pain, and pleasure fighting to take over your emotions. You settle on both and she digs into your scalp, raising you up to her. You whimper out as she turns your head to the side and begins to suck at the front of your neck. Your life flashes before your eyes; having to walk in tomorrow at Freddy’s, a hickey so prominent that any efforts to hide it with makeup make it look evening trashier, and Mike seeing exactly what she did to you. You never understood her anger when it came to Mike; she liked him well enough. You just were never allowed to talk to him, apparently.

“Vanessa, please”, you whisper as she bites the side of your neck, pain seeping in. Squirming, she finally releases you. You flop against the wall, breathing heavily as she stares you down.

“Look at you”, she hisses. Everything about Vanessa commanded respect. Not one part of her demonstrated sex except for her slightly flushed cheeks and large pupils. Her hair was perfectly in place, her shirt was properly ironed. You, on the other hand, were tied up, beaten, and most definitely not commanding respect. It was exactly how Vanessa liked it on days like this.

She leans forward, tangling her hands gently in your hair. She tugs on your strands gently, lulling you into a false sense of security as you close your eyes, content. You should have known it wouldn’t last. “Pathetic, you are”, she says. Suddenly, she drags you to the office desk, making you gasp out in pain, flinging your hands to hers in a poor attempt to release her grip. Shoving you over the desk, she had you right where she wanted you in the first place; bent over and tied. “What, you thought I was going to treat you?”, she laughs. You stutter, words being unable to properly form. “Nothing happened! You were there the whole time! Why am I being punished for your jealousy issues?”, you yell out as she begins to scratch your back deeply. Her nails dig into your skin, fire spreading everywhere you touch. Wailing and twitching in her grasp, you hear her from behind. “Stupid girl. So disappointing when you act out against me”, she taps on the handcuffs. “Are you forgetting who protects you? I can harm you instead if you want baby, just ask”. She pauses, waiting for your reply. Nothing.

She smiles. You can feel the cockiness being emitted without even seeing her. Instead, you intently stare at the table, wishing you were in bed right now instead of feeling the humiliation of your girlfriend lifting up your skirt to check your panties.

The cold table was a harsh polarity to your pussy; you hated how your pussy was throbbing faster than your heart. Vanessa hummed from behind you, clearly amused and proud of you. Leaning over you, the shape of her breasts being felt against your back despite her clothing, she whispers a soft “I love how much of a whore you are”, before standing back up and softly grinding her front against your bare ass. You widen your eyes as you feel something hard press against you. You love how hot and cold Vanessa can be. No matter how rough and angry she can get, she can never resist treating you first.

The sound of her unzipping her pants was as close as you were ever going to get to hearing church bells. Hell, even angels singing couldn’t replicate the sound of her strap slapping your pussy. Shutting your eyes, your brace yourself against the table, moaning as her cock dipped into your soft entrance.

“You think you deserve this?”, she asks, moving your hair back with her hands, a gesture she couldn’t help doing. Not when she knew you did nothing wrong.

You nod desperately, grinding your ass back into her strap, your pussies walls clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt for friction.

Vanessa stayed silent as she plunged her cock into your pussy. You, however, most definitely did not. Your screams filled the quaint neighbourhood as she thrusted into you at a brutal pace that didn’t account for your lack of adjustment. Your hands gripped anything on the table in sight, your body becoming simultaneously needy and overstimulated. “P-please Vanessa slow- oh FUCK yes-”, you cry out, conflicted with the pain.

She rakes her hands over your ass, switching between slapping your reddened cheeks and clawing at your lower back. Hearing her deep, ragged breaths, you knew she was close; the strap hit her clit at every thrust, making her let out lowly strained moans. “Van-”, you roll your eyes back, your vision turning white. She was hitting your gummy walls so right that it felt insane. Your arousal was streaming down the table and her legs, which Vanessa acknowledged by letting out a snort.

“Need to come, baby?”, she hummed. You whine, grinding back. You needed this release so badly; anything Vanessa had told you had already been forgiven.

“V- nessa I need to.. Please”, you bite your lip and squint your eyes, begging yourself to not release before she allowed you to do so. You couldn’t risk more punishment. She sighed as if thinking about it. She sped up the pace, pounding the strap in a way that made it ten times more pleasurable for her as it did for you.

As your fingers grabbed at the table, she let out the smallest whimper that made you go feral. You pleaded, over and over again, to come. You felt extremely betrayed and turned on as Vanessa slumped forward, her chest heaving from cumming quietly. “Oh y/n”, she moaned, “Cum now baby”, she snaked her arm around your waist to bring your ass up even higher as you came with a loud cry.

You let go of the table, your body now going limp. “Vanessa”, you sigh, unable to move. Despite your comfortable position, consisting of you flopping across the table and Vanessa holding you loosely with her strap still half inside of you, she pulls out and forcefully slips you over way too soon for your brain. The pleasure was turning into pain again, and you hiss as your ass makes contact with the table, the marks making it unbearable.

“Don’t think this is over”, she murmurs as you pull her closer.

You look at her, confused.

“It’s only 1 am. If you think I’m done with you, you are sorely mistaken”

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 12)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2041 words)

Tw: afab reader, reader is pretty mean to Cyprus, Cyprus becoming angry and yelling at reader

Please vote on the poll down below

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 13

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, Cyprus must have thought you were doing that excessively, as he would grab your wrist and pull it away from your face. He gave you a look from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the road.

You slumped in your seat, resting your cheek on the seatbelt. Cyprus's hand would find its way back to your thigh, where he would knead and squeeze them as much as he liked. You simply stared at it, because it would always return no matter how much you slapped it away.

You brought your chin up and looked forward. This farmer's market must be far, all you could see is a long strip of asphalt and grass around the car. The sun was shining bright and the air was silent, he refused to turn the radio on or play some music, because he wanted you to talk to him. Cyprus wanted a conversation, to connect with you better by sharing things about each other. But you're just not interested, you wanted to go home and catch up with sleep. Having Cyprus in your life is such a curse, everything was thrown off balance and he kept bullying you. Plus, he kept your phone away, and you're forced to simmer in reality.

"What's your zodiac sign?" He asked, resting his hand on your thigh.

You shrugged. Claiming not to be interested in it just so he would leave you alone in peace.

"Hm." He flicked his turn signal switch to the right before making a turn. "I'm a Cancer, my birthday's on the third of July. And if you're wondering what to get me, I just want your cute little ass on my face." Cyprus sported a playful smirk on his handsome face.

You told him you hope he gets cancer on his birthday. Which made him roll his eyes and click his tongue.

"Someone's cranky." It was followed by a laugh from him. "Sleepy?"

You snapped, telling him you didn't want to go on this stupid date this early in the morning. Wishing that you had never met Cyprus because everything was fine before then, but he had to come around and ruin it. He should just shrivel up and die.

There were a few beats of silence before he began speaking again.

"Wow, where the fuck did that come from, princess? That was a lot to take in." He tried to keep the tone lighthearted, but you could hear a twinge of hurt in his voice. "I must have woken you on the wrong side of the bed today, you were never this mean to me." Something in the way he said that suggests Cyprus is trying to get you to tell him the real reason why you're so moody today.

You sealed your lips shut and looked out of the window. You wanted nothing to do with him and he probably got the hint, as he removed his hand from your lap and placed it on the steering wheel.

Your eyes somehow itched way more than usual, so you went on to rub your eyes again with both hands.

"Stop that-"

You snapped at him again, curling yourself into a ball, pressing yourself far away from Cyprus. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately decided against doing so.

He looked troubled but you didn't care. Unfortunately, you're too upset to give a damn and you don't know why.

The rest of the ride was driven in silence, neither you or him said a word. And eventually, Cyprus has reached his destination, driving further past the tents and stalls to enter an underground parking lot.

"We're here." Cyprus pulled his handbrake up and killed the engine. He took the keys out of the ignition, but made no move to open the door.

Because he was staring at you, who is now refusing to budge. Hiding yourself in your corner with your knees brought to your chest.

He brought a hand up to your head, petting your hair affectionately. "Baby? I said we're here-"

You yelled at him, saying you heard him the first time. All that while harshly shoving his hand away from you.

"What the fuck is up with you today!?" And it seems like that was the last straw for him, Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and crowded you from his seat, making the only escape route the door, but it was locked and you somehow couldn't open it no matter how much you tugged on the handle or toggled with the lock.

You said you hated him, he has ruined your life. Perhaps you were trying to mimic what his exes did, you don't know how they could withstand the pressure of his menacing presence. Or maybe they liked it, you definitely didn't.

He sternly called you by your name. "Look at me."

You refused, burying your face in your arms.

"Look at me!" He scolded, this time Cyprus seized you by the jaw and forced your face to his. His grip on you was almost bruising, forcing you to pucker your lips as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

He glared straight at you, steely grey eyes darting all over to examine whatever might be causing your sudden and severe hostility. Though his expression softened when he realized what's been behind your intolerance today.

"Ah." He sounded out, "That figures." relieved and annoyed at the same time. Cyprus brought his thumb on your lower eyelid and gently pulled it down. He then pushed your upper eyelid up.

"Pink eye. I told you not to hang around Nancy." Nancy was one of your nosier coworkers, she had just come back from a medical leave and Cyprus was already telling you to avoid her. You didn't listen despite how she would have coughing fits and bad coughing etiquette. In hindsight, maybe you should have heed his words, but you were desperate to regain some agency over yourself. So you rebelled.

He continued checking your eyeball even after he knew what he was looking at.

It felt invasive, so you thrashed in his grip enough for him to loosen it.

He sighed, taking his keys out of his pocket, jabbing it into his ignition and restarting it again. You winced when Cyprus revved up his engine and allowed its roar to bounce off the basement carpark walls.

"I knew you didn't mean any of it; the crap you said to me. But you really need to say what's bugging you next time... not just take it out on me." He brought his handbrake down and shifted gears.

You remained static in your position and stayed quiet.

"I know you wouldn't, though. It's like it'll kill you to open up." Cyprus drove away from his perfect parking spot, pressing on the gas pedal as if he was in a rush.

"It's fine, I totally love playing detective." Snarked Cyprus sarcastically.

You merely rubbed your eye with a finger.

--

"One more drop, princess." He whispered, holding cupping your cheek and using his thumb to pull your lower eyelid down. Once the last droplet of your antibiotics reached your eye, you blinked hard and held onto his wrist.

"That's a good girl," Cyprus whispered as he pecked you on the forehead, before screwing the cap back on the bottle. A few seconds later, you started to feel the relief in your diseased eyeball.

Cyprus had driven you to a nearby pharmacist, where he would buy medicated eye drops for your conjunctivitis. He had insisted that he is the one to administer it because he claimed that you wouldn't know how to do it correctly despite being there when the pharmacist verbally gave you the instructions. It wasn't cheap, but he still footed the bill himself.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, allowing the medicine to spread evenly. Cyprus brushed any stray hairs away from your face with his fingers, you were too distracted with the sensation you have in your eye to push him away.

"Well?"

You looked at him. He has his arms crossed and is leaning against the side of his car.

"Aren't you going to apologize? You were so fucking mean to me earlier." He looked away momentarily, seemingly trying to hide something on his face before bringing back his focus on you.

You froze and couldn't get anything out, yes, you were unreasonably rude to him. But that may be your only ticket out of this forced relationship... Well, your last resort is to go to the police but you don't think it has come to that yet. It's not... Illegal to be a jerk to Cyprus as long as you check yourself from time to time.

You were brought out of your thoughts by an incoherent grumble from Cyprus, he massaged his brow. "Okay, we don't have to do that now, you're definitely still a little prickly for some reason and I think I know why." He took a deep breath and exhaled as he opened the door to his passenger seat.

You stared blankly at the interior of his car, he gestured for you to go in. "Come on, get in. I'm going to have to fight for another parking spot, and that's going to take a while."

You looked around you, god knows where you are right now and you have no smartphone to navigate your way back home. There isn't a bus stop in sight either. Perhaps you could slowly inch your way to the general direction of your home? Your shoes are intact and pretty comfortable, there has to be a bus stop somewhere.

"You are not walking home, I'll fucking wrangle you into this car if I have to." As if he was reading your mind, Cyprus quickly closed the space between the two of you, so that your face is almost smothered in his broad chest.

You begrudgingly agreed and went into the Passenger's side on your own. He closed the door for you and shook his head while walking towards the driver's seat.

The distance between the pharmacy and the market wasn't that far at all, it was short enough that Cyprus didn't try to initiate any small talk or touch you either. Or maybe he was still freshly wounded by your recalcitrance.

Cyprus only reached out to pull your hand away when you're about to rub your eyes again.

"Here." He picked up his thermos flask in his cup holder and handed it to you. "Drink up, you only had a tiny sip of water today."

You cautiously took it from his hand and opened it to access the crisp, refreshing water with ice cubes bobbing around.

He was right, Cyprus isn't looking for a motherly partner to supplement his life. He is the motherly one who you now realize took care of you very well no matter how much you didn't like his personality.

From cutting your steaks without needing to ask, making your meals, taking you to the clinic, and paying for anything you can think of. Yes, it's irritating that he would drag you to dates that you didn't even want to go on in the first place, but his intentions were for you to experience the world and all its novelty alongside him. He just wanted you to have fun differently and he isn't stingy with his money.

However, that doesn't discount the fact that he's doing all these against your will, touching you despite your numerous "No"s and rejections, forcing you to play along with this romantic fantasy of his in the office and holding your items hostage, so he could keep you in his apartment.

You brought your attention to him again, he's sulking. A stark contrast from his cheery, teasing attitude from this morning.

Somehow, you felt guilty for lashing out at Cyprus earlier. He did make you cry, though. So this could have been payback for it. However, he apologized, albeit sounding patronizing and infantilizing.

But if you apologize, it will only send a message that you're genuinely interested in being with Cyprus. Worsening his chronic disability to heed your rejections.

You thought about your next move.

[cottonlemonade]

Making Up After A Fight

word count: 756 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst with happy ending

warnings: none, just Oikawa being hard on himself and insecure

Oikawa hates fighting as much as you do.

But sometimes it was inevitable. His training schedule had been crazy, the coach had scolded him for putting too much pressure on his bad knee and he was frustrated with himself for delivering, as he thought, disappointing performances on the court lately.

And unfortunately, you were the best girlfriend through all of this. Something he should be happy about, but like many times before it just made him realize that he didn't deserve you.

He couldn't give you the time he wanted. He wished more than anything that you would just tell him how disappointed you were in the relationship and in him, for not being good enough, there enough, doting enough - he hated it. He hated every second, because he knew that when he got to his phone at the end of training, a sweet and loving message would wait for him, saying that you missed him. You would have maybe sent a picture of something cute that reminded you of him during your day or suggested something to do together on his next day off. It was infuriating that you never blamed him for not being the boyfriend he should be.

So it came as no surprise that one night after practice, when he was over at your place, he snapped. He just arrived, took off his shoes and smelled the lovely home cooked meal that was simmering on the stove. You came to greet him, smiling tiredly but genuinely happy to see him and he couldn't take it anymore. He started yelling and gesturing, asking you why you even bothered with him, told you how you weren't right for him, that you made him feel like garbage, turned on his heels, grabbed his shoes and left.

You stood in the doorway of your kitchen, not knowing, not understanding what had just happened but you also knew that he had never yelled at you before. Ever. Sure you'd seen him frustrated and stressed but even then his outbursts were never directed at you. Not like this.

Tears started to fill your eyes. You grabbed your phone, wanting to call him, had already one arm in your jacket to go after him, but decided against it.

The phone in your hand buzzed but it was only a text from your friend asking about your day. You typed a nondescript reply, not wanting them to worry and promised to call tomorrow.

Now only silence filled your apartment. Silence and the taunting smell of an untouched dinner.

You paced a while up and down your living room, throwing tentative glances through your window to see if you could maybe spot him on the dark street below. But nothing.

You started several messages to Tooru but deleted them before hitting send - none of them sounded right.

Not knowing what else to do, you put the now cold dinner into the fridge, took a shower and headed to bed, unable to stop more tears rolling onto the pillow.

You heard the front door unlock at around 1 am, but didn't know if you just imagined it in your half sleep state.

A soft knock came from your bedroom door. You weren’t exactly in the mood to talk, so you stayed quiet. Another soft knock and the door opened slowly. For the longest moment Oikawa just stood in the doorway, looking at your, he assumed, sleeping form.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and then shrugged off his jacket to sit on the bed. Slowly, carefully, he laid down behind you, moving closer to wrap his arm around your soft waist.

"Are you awake?", he murmured.

You shifted slightly to show him you were.

"I'm really sorry.", he whispered gingerly into the crook of your neck, "You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise. It's just with the training and my screw ups at the last match and you have been so great about it all and-"

You heard his throat closing up as he nuzzled closer to you, "I really don't know how you put up with it. I'm never around, I never have time to do normal couple stuff, I mess up your sleep schedule and you never complain. I feel horrible."

You finally turn around to face him. "Well, I am mad at you now, if that makes you feel better."

He had to chuckle through his tears and bit his lip, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. "I love you, darling."

You snuggled into his chest and entwined your fingers with his. "I love you, too."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

How did Vanessa find out it was Logans baby? Panicked call? "Sister" intuition?

You're keeping your distance from Logan and Logan is keeping his distance from you but- Vanessa can see Logan tracking you as you flit around little knots of people. And he didn't look angry but... there was an intensity to it. One she recognized. He wanted you. Bad. And when you met his eyes briefly, your own expression changing into something like hunger it hit her like a train.

Oh. She thought. That little shit. Good for her.

It had been... A while since you'd dated. Or even really tried to date. One bad boyfriend and you just threw in the towel- not that she blamed you. It had had some spectacular fallout. But... Fucking your brother's angry new roommate without him knowing?

Listen. Logan had a rough exterior but he was probably a teddy bear in bed and took good care of you. And she was willing to bet he could read you like a book- you needed that. As long as you didn't come up with bruises you didn't want she wasn't about to snitch. It was a good chance for Wade to be reminded that you weren't 12.

When you slipped out to take Trigger for a piss, she followed you. "So," she said grinning, "Fucking Logan. Ballsy."

"We're not!"

"Puh-lease," she laughed, "if he doesn't come over tonight and bend you over the table-"

"He broke my table last time," you mumble. You're busted. "He's fucking heavy."

"Oh. My. God. You slut," she teased. "I'm telling-"

"Nessa!"

"Oh no, I'm not telling Wade," she laughed, "Just everyone else. We HAVE to start a pool for how long it takes him to figure it out."

"Hell. I'm in hell." You groan. "I'm in hell and never having sex again."

_____________

"Nessa," Wade whined, "pick up the phone! SHIT!" He tossed his phone down on the sofa and groaned, "Straight to voice mail."

Logan grunted and studied his drink. He hadn't seen you since you left for the airport. Or tried to talk to you. But he knew you were back. And safe. But that didn't make the anxiety in his chest simmer down. He'd learned you were good at hiding how you really felt. The whole time

"She was supposed to go find out her due date so I can plan," Wade groused, kicking at a box of baby things. "I gotta know so-"

"Plan what?" Logan growled.

"A baby shower? Being in the room? Duh!" Wade flopped down on the couch and groaned. "I wonder where she's going to register-"

He took a sip of his drink and huffed a sharp laugh, "Did you even ask her if she wants the kid?" Logan heard your heartbeat. And he saw how fucking terrified you looked. You didn't sleep. You hardly ate. Too numb to cry or be angry. You were just... lost.

But now you were going to be pressed on all sides by people just expecting this kid to appear. Because it was going to be cute and fun and because someone else was going to have to do the hard part. And hell if it didn't sting like a brand knowing you didn't want him near you- he thought he could take it. Be man enough. But. Looking into your face in that cold fucking exam room; knowing that if he just STAYED. If he just admitted-

"Are you even fucking listening?" Wade asked

"Yada yada bullshit, yada yada, good mom," he said killing his drink and getting up, picking up his jacket.

"Pick up more diapers," Wade called at his retreating back.

"Fuck off," Logan growled, slamming the door behind him. He needed to talk to you. Now. If you didn't want him to raise this kid fine, but he wasn't going to do nothing. He wasn't stupid. He knew when your scent changed. He knew when you fucked. You weren't fucking anyone else and if that was your next play, he wasn't buying it. It was time to make that clear.

[paisleypens]

too cool pt. 2 | spencer agnew x f!reader

the hair i’m crying.

thank you for the love on the last one!! here’s part 1

i was so busy recently but i love this story so let me know what you think! new part soon trust

~~~

In the days that followed their impromptu trip to the park, Spencer panicked over his feelings for Y/N. He hadn’t felt this close to anyone in a non platonic way in a while. After endless hours of thinking about her and their excursion, Spencer realized something haunting. No way was he cool enough for someone like her. Yes they could nerd out together, but why would she want to be with someone like that? He concluded that Y/N would never choose him as the ideal guy for her.

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings, rehearsals, and editing sessions. Spencer and Y/N maintained their easy rapport, but the unspoken tension simmered beneath the surface, growing more palpable with each passing interaction.

It was during a casual lunch break that the topic of relationships surfaced. They sat at a small table, sandwiches forgotten as they engaged in a lighthearted debate about romantic comedies.

"I've never been a fan of those over-the-top love stories," Spencer commented, taking a sip of his Kickstart.

Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, really? You’re too cool for a good slow-burn romance?"

Spencer chuckled, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "Well, I suppose there's something nice about the anticipation, the build-up between two people. But maybe I'm just not cool enough to get it."

Their eyes met briefly, a shared misunderstanding of their words passing between them before they both looked away, the moment lingering in the air like an unspoken confession.

As the days passed, their dance of denial continued. They buried their feelings beneath layers of professional camaraderie, exchanging playful banter and supportive gestures while tiptoeing around the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them.

It was a delicate balance, a silent agreement to keep their emotions in check for the sake of their work and friendship. But with each passing day, the longing glances and fleeting touches spoke volumes, unspoken desires waiting to be acknowledged.

As the days turned into weeks and the unspoken tension between Spencer and Y/N continued to simmer, Spencer found himself grappling with a realization he couldn't ignore—he was falling for her.

It was an unusually quiet Tuesday afternoon in the office, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a serene calm. Spencer sat at his desk, fingers tapping absently on the keyboard as he tried to focus. But his mind kept drifting, thoughts consumed by Y/N and the unspoken emotions that had taken root in his heart.

He replayed moments in his mind—the shared laughter, the stolen glances, the way her eyes lit up when they discussed their favorite games. Each memory was like a whispered confession, a testament to the depth of his feelings. Spencer leaned back in his chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't continue denying his feelings, couldn't keep pretending that his heart didn't ache every time Y/N walked away.

“Hey, you good man? You’re looking pretty… gone right now.” Spencer's friend and closest working relationship, Shayne Topp, asked him.

“Yeah… yeah uh what’s up?” Spencer coughed out.

“Well I was going to ask what your dinner plans are but… do you want to talk?” Shayne asked, his eyebrows sewing together in worry.

“No it’s dumb I don’t- I don’t even know what i’d say.” Spencer answered, slumping down in his chair farther.

“Shoot.”

“Well… I really like someone. I- I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t work, I can barely sleep when I could just stay up thinking about her.” Spencer admitted.

“Damn, to be honest I never thought I would see this day. What’s stopping you from getting her?” Shayne questioned, laughing at his school yard confession.

“I don’t man have you seen me?”

“Uh yeah you’re the ideal man.”

“Very funny. But no I'm serious she’s- let’s just say she is way too cool for me. Very far out of my league.”

“Dude have you seen my relationship? If you like her that much it’s dumb to torture yourself like this.”

“Yeah but, we're friends. What if I screw it up?”

“But what if you don’t?”

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

Plot: Baela needs some stress relieving before the battle, and who's best than her sweet older sister?

Cw: lovesick!Baela Targaryen x reader, top!Baela x sub!reader, could be Blackfyre!reader but this is not really canon so who cares, smut, fingering, grinding, your usual unhinged medieval sexuality, incest, targcest could be read as internalized homophobia but not really, dirty talk, virginity loss, Baela's POV at first, then reader's POV

Notes: This is not really canon, or important in the Dragon Jaws/Blackfyre series, it's just a little treat

Baela and Y/N were in a tent after a session with the generals of the black army, they discussed the strategy for combat tomorrow. It was late, probably later than it was prudent, after all, no warrior with half a brain would go into war without proper rest; but it was not easy to fall asleep with so much in mind.

The sisters shared a tent, both as a security measure, and one of emotional need. They had spent their whole lives together, missing each other terribly when apart. They would exchange letters and travel on dragonback into the arms of one another, though the tent was missing Rhaena, their other sister, they accepted this gracefully, as it was to keep her safe.

They slept on a big bed (as much as it could be called a bed), usually ending up tangled in the other's embrace. For Baela, it was hard. She was in love with her sister, she desired her. It had evolved throughout the years, but she was sure she loved her sisters from the moment she was able to love. During puberty this feeling grew, it enveloped her, and now, as an adult, it was irresistible. For one, she was grateful she was born a woman, she could shower and dress with her without any shame, stare at her bosom, her perky nipples, her hips, her back, so soft and ready to be marked. She remembered this time during her younger years, where with the excuse of curiosity, she asked her older sister about her developing body, Baela standing naked before her, with her only in her undergarments, both getting ready for bed after swimming on the sea.

"I just can't know if they will get like yours, can you look at me?" She timidly asked. Y/N just caressed her curly hair, and said "It's normal, they look normal. They just might be small, that's lovely too" she said, innocent to the hormone-filled train of thought Baela was conjuring. Y/N topped it off with words that would be repeated over and over in Baela's head for years to come: "You can't tell anyone this, but you and Rhaena are the most beautiful Targaryens to have ever lived" they laughed and Baela felt butterflies erupt in response to her gentleness.

And now, Baela can't sleep thinking about that, she wants her, if not now, when? When will they ever find a better place and time to have each other? Probably many more, Baela thinks, however, what matters is that after years of simmering, her lust has come to a boil.

"Y/N" she calls

"Ahem?" She responds, sleep filled voice

"Have you thought about the end of the war?" She asks, snuggling her body close to hers, Baela is hugging her from behind, the bed feels warm

"I guess we all have"

"I'm fighting like a man" Baela stated "But once the war ends, I won't have the power of a man"

"I think we all want the power of a lord. Lord Baelon, how does that sound? I think it has a nice ring to it" said the oldest "How about me? How would my name sound as a lord?"

"Hmm... I'd like you to remain a lady" Y/N made a curious noise at Baela's words, and then noticed her hand going lower, from the side of her chest, to her waist. "That way... You would be lord Baelon's wife, keep the blood of the dragon pure" her hand hands reached for the buttons in her nightgown. "I would share you with Rhaena" she stopped to think of a fitting name for her sister "Lord Rhaegar, that would be nice... But she can be a lady too, what matters is that I'll have both of you"

Y/N aids Baela with the unbuttoning of her blouse, guiding her hand to her bare skin "I'm not liking it too much, you are cocky, I would like to marry a gentle lord" she says that, but she's undressing for Baela. "Remain a lady, for me, sister, I do not need more"

"I do" Baela says, flipping you on your back, looking deeply into your eyes from above, her hair tickles your shoulders as they fall like a cascade

She closes the distance and kisses you like a starved animal, like a dragon. She's fire, so are you. You devour each other, you grab her curls to trap her, she moans when she feels your nails massage her scalp. You break the kiss to gasp for air, Bae looks dizzy and lovestruck, all of her bold attitude is now gone.

Her hands touch your sides softly, and you nod so she can go ahead. Her palms are soft, but there's an undeniable roughness thanks to the dragon reins she holds onto.

Baela kisses your neck, by this point, your torso is bare, you get goosebumps from the cold air around you. She kisses all the way down to your navel, your underpants are tied with baby blue ribbons, and Baela softly tugs them down.

"It's not enough" she whispers in your ear as she exposes your cunt

You softly sigh as her slender fingers play with your folds, gathering the slick and rubbing your clit with it. She keeps kissing you, and teasing your hole with her finger, not quite fucking you with it. You enjoy it until you don't, and start shamelessly grinding against her, you get a little louder, whining "Lady Baela" and biting your lip in hopes of seducing her. She can't resist, and slowly inserts only her ring finger, slowly pumping in and out of you.

Soon the pace quickens, but you both agree is not enough, and Baela is shivering with the desire to be touched too. Mid-making out, she asks you to sit up.

"I have an idea, just-" she undresses too, with your eager help she lays down, resting her head on the pillow, now naked. She motions you to sit on top of her. You slowly lower yourself with Baela guiding your hips to where she wants them to be, both of you giggle with the tender awkwardness of both your cluelessness.

Your pulsing cunt comes to grind on top of her, you experimentally move, and are rewarded with a a breathy moan from Baela. You build your pace, wiggling your hips and riding her pussy, you start slow, feeling her clit and folds rub with yours, at first it's too intense, and your eyes get wet with tears from pleasure. But then it's not enough, and you ride her like it's the last thing you'll do, it gets difficult to hide your moans, but you think anyone would know what's happening, based on the wet clapping sounds of skin of skin.

It gets slippery with slick, and your hips get tired, but Baela's voice demanding more is just too intoxicating. You come and collapse on top of her, but she's still rolling her hips and sucking on your neck, you plead for mercy, but she's as ruthless in bed as in the battlefield, so after you momentarily stop, she bites you. "Did I say you could stop?" You are in fact tired, but just listening to her commands has you clenching, so your lower body gets a mind of its own and keeps moving to satisfy your sister. You know that you would probably see the sun arise before Baela had her fill of you.

...

"Y/N" she calls, this time she doesn't wait for an answer, as she knows you're awake "You will not marry anyone, you'll wait for me"

You get a little sad, you know that you can never marry Baela, and don't know exactly what she means "Yet you will marry Jace" you say, maybe a little too hurt

"I will" Baela makes you look at her in the eyes, as she promises you this "But I will make him take you as a wife too, you will not marry until that happens" she's tender, but you are aware she's being dead serious. Jacaerys taking a second wife? A bastard one at that? It sounds too fantastic, and you would like to live in that fantasy, but your mind will not let you.

"Trust me, Y/N."

"I don't think many would accept it"

"Then I suppose Moondancer will have grow fat from too many nobles"

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Can I request some sort of smut with Prince Regent!Aemond? I can't get him out of my head!!!! I see him being so mean and intimidating on the Iron Throne, like he wouldn't wear the eye patch bc he knows he looks "scary" to everyone in the court without it...except his little wife doesn't find him scary. His sweet wife is willing to fulfill his every need, no matter what that is, and is a good girl for him when he fucks her roughly, and it ends up melting his cold heart. Just a thought 😮‍💨

please the heinous bitch I'll become when Aemond takes this role on, lord forgive me. this is brilliant, thanks for sending in the ask boo xx

hope you love it!

Dearest, Ruthless Husband

PAIRING: Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

WORDS: 2,432.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of cruel!Aemond, degradation kink, p in v sexual intercourse (consensual), oral male receiving, mentions of breeding kink.

A/N - writing this got me so hyped for Prince Regent Aemond!!! I hope you all enjoy, the smut is a little different to what I normally write or go about it, but sue me. Intrusive thoughts won!!!!

The Dance of the Dragons as most maesters and commoners of King's Landing had dubbed the unfolding family feud within House Targaryen, was beginning to simmer and churn. Brutal words exchanged, promises unkept and broken, and battles ruthlessly fought, both sides began to earn their gains, and yet also face immense losses. The most recent, left the Usurper King Aegon, burnt and beyond repair. The King had succumbed to his bed chambers, in the endless care of maesters, tending to his wounds as he remained unconscious from milk of the poppy. Although the realm staggered on, it needed to be assigned someone to represent the sovereign himself, and no other candidate stood out, other than your royal husband, Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Before the war had torn through the Seven Kingdoms, you had been betrothed to the young Prince. Paramount in securing an alliance on behalf of the Crown, you had grown doubtful that the marriage would remain fruitful, weary that Aemond merely saw you more as an obligation than an actual human being. Much to your surprise and in favour of the Gods, the Targaryen prince, took a key interest in you, as you gradually began to spend more and more time immersed in each other's sole company. Till proof had been cemented when he meekly admitted his love for you.

"It will be undying, this union, bound to me forever, my love. You will never no of hate nor harm, that I can promise you, my wife to be."

And although, Aemond had always been more of a withdrawn, private man since your first acquaintance, the longer this war prolonged, the more it seemed to have hardened his exterior. The man you'd once soulfully cherished and dreamt of now absent, replaced by a strange clone, the warmth buried inside seemed to have gone out like a candle in the wind.

He did no harm towards you, although, you scarcely saw him. Occasionally, he'd accompany you to dinner, only to be torn away from you, more prominent, urgent matters to attend that broke in the dead hour of the night. The bed had grown lonesome, and you struggled to sleep without his comforting presence and familiar body warmth. Regardless, your safety was still a priority, he made certain that you were around, in his vicinity.

****

Nowadays, you often found your husband seated firmly atop the Iron Throne, speaking and acting on behalf of his elder brother, the King. Many a times, he'd often privately disclosed of how he'd envisioned himself instead, given the miraculous chance, he sternly believed he'd be the better choice, "I'm far more suited than the likes of him." And yet, now that his treasonous wish had been granted, the circumstances unfortunate, he did not feel as willing for it. Eager to uphold duty nonetheless, you knew, however, that Aemond loved his family immensely, this including Aegon. They grew together, trained together and fought together. Yet he only now, fully understood the burden in which the crown wielded.

Today was no less different.

Entering the throne room, crowded by those who'd sworn allegiance unto King Aegon the Second, and those in chains, forced upon their knees, for those who had instead sworn fealty to Rhaenyra only to be captured. Aemond coldly observed them from above, the ferocity of the throne, its sharp, steel blades exemplified by his exposed sapphire eye. Since your beloved husband was publicly anointed as Prince Regent, he had taken to the habit of unveiling his lost eye, no longer bearing the notorious eye patch that modestly covered his ailment. He never hid it out of shame, though rather sympathetically as means to not frighten the maidens of the court. Yet the spoils of war had unleashed a crueler side to Aemond, one that you did not sense of its existence, though neither grew fearful of.

"Sided with the false Queen, my elder sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, you have committed the highest form of treason against the Crown... Cowards and traitors, you shall all face the wroth of the Dragons through me... I do not see it fit to send you all to the Wall, no that would be mercy...Death to the whole lot of you."

His words sent a cold chill through your body, shuddering against his low, unwavering tone. Aemond had always spoken with a steadiness, and that remained unchanged. You could not deny that seeing such a formidable side of Aemond, unlike before, was invigorating. In the haste moments that you were caught in your own bewildered thoughts, with a sway of his hand swatting for the guards to remove said traitors, the out-roar of prisoners begging and pleading before their Prince Regent and the rattling of their heavy chains as they'd been forcefully led away was a chilling memory. After the final few had left to the dungeons below, you'd caught sight of Aemond staring right at you. Mindlessly, a faint smile fell upon your gentle face, and in a few seconds to come, Aemond demanded that all vacate the room, except for you. As the others departed, you walked in the opposing way, strolling closer and closer to where your husband remained comfortably seated, coming to a halt before the stony steps.

Upon hearing the final closing of the main, oak doors, an eerie silence fell upon the void of the room. Aemond's eye turned from the shut doors back down unto your feeble state below, the height and distance made you look smaller, more miniscule.

"You dare to taunt me with that smile, woman? Your presence during court already weakens me so."

"I merely wish to see my husband in all his glory, for it feels like a lifetime that I have not been blessed in his company. If needs be that I must seek you out myself, then so be it."

"Hmm."

Just as you'd taken the first step up, Aemond commanded for you to stop. Caught mid-way, you were startled by his objection as he often never resisted you.

"You think you can go unpunished just like that, do as you please and walk yourself right up here. Simply because you're my little whore?"

You were mildly perplexed by his minor outburst, although with the sly grin strewed across his face and the low deep chuckle he provoked from his own amusement, you knew he was simply taunting you. And yet, being Prince Regent, you had no choice but to obey.

"On all fours woman, I want to see you crawl to me, like the bitch that you are."

Hesitant at first, the burning glare from your husband's end though convinced you otherwise. Now on all fours, you slowly began to mechanic your way up to him, feeling Aemond's grin seething into the tender skin of your back, straight through your gown. Did this amuse him, seeing you grabble for him on the grimy, ancient floor, practically yielding to his every word.

Now at his feet, you remained on your knees, sore palms resting on your thighs, you looked up at him eagerly, a soft smile upon your face. If he thought he could taunt or debase you, he should reconsider.

"Satisfied yet, my dearest?" You meekly interject, your smile growing brighter.

"Not yet. Have you any bright ideas, wife, or must I command you like a hound?"

Although his voice stern, the sly grin remained faintly embedded across his face, and eyebrow perked, eager for your response. Yet your remained endearing, a lustful look across your face, as your hands began to gently make there way up his lean thighs.

"You have worked so tirelessly for the realm, and yet your wife remains lonesome, in her own company. From time to time, my husband is too busy fulfilling the duties of the realm, he seems to have forgotten his duty to his wife. Leaving me to touch myself so desperately... I suppose, I must remind him."

Now your hands reached the buttons of his trousers, Aemond bucks his hips forward, as you undo them, pulling them and his under garments just low enough, that his bare cock strings out. Already glistening at its tip, the sight always left you dumbfounded. His length was greater than average, and veiny, you could sense its palpating throbs against the soft palms of your hands, as you began to stroke its firm state.

"Already hard for me, my Prince. Have you missed me so?"

His pre-cum already spilling from the pinkish tip, you'd noticed the more fasten your pace grew, the firmer his grip tightened on the metal arm rests of the throne. His once-steady breathing now heavier.

"Fuck Y/N. Don't keep me waiting."

A sweet giggle escaped your lips, as his eye and the sapphire gem remained fixated on your kneeling frame below his knees. Soon enough, still massaging his hardening cock, you ease yourself between his thighs, spreading his legs out wider for you to adjust yourself. His wish, his command, you brought your mouth to his cock, in the same, sensual pace, sucking at his cock, feeling the throbs and familiar taste in your mouth.

"Seven fucking Hells," He breathlessly huffed, his chest now heaving against your slow, engulfing motions.

It was undeniable that the tip of his cock was stiffly hitting the back of your throat, regardless of how often this act was done in the privacy of your shared chambers, his length was one you could never quite adjust to, often gagging at it, although now you'd grown familiar to manoeuvre and angle it accordingly.

"That tight, pretty mouth of yours, oh, how I've missed it."

It had been a while since Aemond and yourself had shared these intimate moments only lawful between a man and his woman, since the uprising of the war. The Gods were now charitable, for both your favours were being met.

"Mmm. F-Fuck I'm close, Princess. Straightened up."

The thudding of his hard, long cock you could feel had grown tenser. Pulling out, caused a visceral reaction from him, as you once more, obeyed his command, straightening your posture enough, that the cleavage of your breasts was the main attraction between his thighs. Immediately, he hastily spilled his warm seed over your breasts, causing a mess all over you, some of his wetness had seeped in between the cleavage, whilst the rest glistened against your soft skin, before pooling down, drenching your garments.

"A masterpiece if I ever saw one," He chuckled, as his thumb tenderly wiped away at the remnants lingering over the corner of your moist lips.

"Aemond, I need you dearest," You sulkily yearned, a hand clutching to your clothed cunt, feeling yourself beginning to grow avid, as a long, familiar feeling brew between your thighs.

"Up- Come, my dearest-" His hand smacked against his thigh, as the other held your hand in is lifting you up, guiding you to ease yourself down over him: hastily pulling your layered gown up and tearing your undergarments into two, his firm cock easily finding its way inside of you.

Muffled moans helplessly tore through you, once again, the neediness for your husband's cock, and the long-awaited wait, stimulating you enough. His wetness that coated him, helped to ease himself plunging in, now adjusted, your hips beginning to sway forwards and back over his strong lap, his rough hands held you firmly by the waist, steadying you over him.

"I ought to fuck you senseless, leave you satisfied enough for until the next time I return from battle. Perhaps I ought to fuck a babe into you, my dearest."

Still childless, it was all bad-timing for only a few months after your wedding, the war broke out and Aemond was caught in the haste of it all. He scarcely had time to bed you, although now that his family numbers were dwindling, it seemed a babe was of great importance, an heir for the Prince Regent.

"Y-Yes, Aem- I want your child."

"Your wish is my command, wife. I shall see you swell greatly with child, as many sons and daughters as I see fit."

Earning more helpless cries and screams for your husband, the room echoed with your pleas and Aemond's heavy breathing. You were certain the guards posted outside, would know of the events unfolding from within, and yet no shame. For they'd have to answer to Aemond, and that itself, was a threat.

"Fill this pretty cunt of yours, this cunt that belongs to me. I shall keep you full, as need be."

"A-As you desire, m-my Prince-"

One of Aemond's hands remained supporting your lumbar, snaking its way behind, and the other found its way to your scalp, tugging and pulling at your hair, as your head rocked back in tune to his aggressive motions. Words no longer comprehensible to exchange, Aemond's lips found themselves occupied, lapping and suckling at the sensitive crook of your neck, leaving harsh, red marks across your skin.

"Finish me, Aem. I-I need you to fill me-"

The excitement that had brewed in anticipation for this monumental moment, had finally met its need. Your sweet, hot cum pooled over his sturdy, long cock inside, pooling beneath your gown, and in response, evoked the same pleasurable reaction from your husband. Feeling his hot seed once more, shooting itself inside, coating your walls. You felt certain a child was procreated in that precise moments, though regardless, would pray to the Gods to grant you the chance to bear a healthy babe.

Huffing and puffing, hot, perspiring skin against each other, resting your foreheads against one another, almost in sync, you both exchanged faint, genuine laughter.

"I-I have missed you my dearest. It pains me so, to be away from you so often and for so long. I cherish these moments with you, even catching you lingering in the shadows, watching me."

His sweet words warmed your meek heart, and you knew that your husband was apologetic in some sense, even if he struggled to admit it.

"I know my love, but soon enough, a war always comes to an end. Just be sure, I have you returned to me in one piece, and at my beckon call."

A deep, low chucked echoed from deep inside him, as he bashfully looked down, before returning his sole gaze unto you, your fingers toying with long strands of his platinum hair.

"Even if the Gods have other plans, I will defy them for you, always. I promise to return to you, and if the Mother is willing, a babe in your arms. I love you."

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @randomdragonfires

Aemond taglist - @godrakin @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog