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Could you make genin Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara, Rock Lee and Neji x reader who is their crush and they end up having to fight reader in the chunin exam?
Yessss, yes I will 😊
Fighting Them During The Chunin Exam
A/N: half of this was written with writers blocks the other half was written when I was high, so don’t judge the quality okay 😊
Naruto
- One by one you both watched as everyone was drawn. When it was just down to four of you, Naruto prayed he would get Kiba
- You both gave a side eye when you were the last opponents
- Oh fucking shit
- He was actually a bit (really) mad, protesting that he could not fight you because you were a friend but when the only response was fight or surrender he bit the inside of his cheek
- “Friend”… yuh uh, he means totally smitten to the point he feels like a dog
- But he couldn’t surrender, not when he was this close to getting his chunin but he didn’t know where you guys would stand after it
- When you reassured him this is just how it was supposed to be and said you’d be honoured to fight him, he only frowned and scratched his head.
There he stood, across from you on this dirty cement floor and he was mesmerized on how you could just smile.
“This gotta be a joke, can you just redraw?” He asked the , displeased evident.
“There’s nobody to draw from, you both are the last opponents,” he irked, finding Naruto’s stupidly uncharming.
“Naruto it’s fine, let’s just do this, I’m hungry,” You slumpt, anxious to get this over with.
- he went easy at the start, only throwing kunais and he played defence
- When he realized you weren’t going easy, he was caught off guard as you punched him right in the face
- He stumbled, looking at you with somehow even more admiration
- Then he got serious and the fight really started
- You lost, but some part of you kind of anticipated it
- You were sprawled out on the floor, head pounding from the attack and you were honestly just so tired from the forest
- When you surrendered he felt relieved, he didn’t know how much longer he could take fighting you
- He ran over to you, he wasn’t happy with the win
- He apologized over and over, helping you up and taking you to the infirmary
- He was so glad you guys were still friends, you meant so much to him
- Totally just friends
- He takes you out for ramen after
- He still is on edge for quite some time, he makes excuses why he can’t train with you and he definitely won’t rough house like you guys use too
——
Sasuke
- king of looking like he doesn’t give a shit
- He does
- He’s literally panicking internally and in private probably bites his nails from anxiety
- He thinks he’s anxious to fight you, that has to be it? Out of everyone you are most worthy to him potential wise
- He’s lying to himself, he doesn’t wanna believe that he’s scared to fight you because you mean a lot to him
- He’ll avoid you for the month of training and when you come to confront him about it he’s eerily upset
“We’re not friends, I am getting my chunen license even if it means hurting you,” he says, stopped inside his door frame as he watches you fold your arms over your chest.
“So that’s it, friendship over because of a silly competition?” You respond, you knew sasuke was aloof and stubborn, but really?
“We never were friends,” he replied, as casual as one could and he hated the way your eyes got glossy. He watched you leave, regretting it but he won’t take it back.
- you were nervous, standing in the podium as the crowd was watching you
- Sasuke wasn’t here yet, which you’d hope he wouldn’t show up at all
- You were a bit annoyed as he spawned in with kakashi, trying to be ‘cool’
- He was surprised when you actually put up a fight, a good one too
- But also kind of proud
- He did not go easy on you, at all and was definitely being yelled at by Naruto on the stands
- he won, by default as you had passed out and could not continue to fight
- He wanted to check on you, instead lurking outside your door and kinda of just shuffling around
- He’ll ask the nurses if you’re okay, but he won’t dare go in already knowing he’s fucked up your guys friendship
——
Gaara
- low key you were shitting your pants cause WHATT???
- You saw what that boy did to Rock Lee, and now you have to fight him?
- He on the other hand doesn’t care, but the more it gets closer to the fight he starts feeling uneasy
- He’s… what they refer to as a monster? So why is he kind of concerned for this nobody wannabe?
- He had sat beside you during the first test, intrigued by you
- Your the first person that has ever smiled at him so.. genuinely
- And now he has to fight you? A big part of him was set on absolutely destroying you to stop this uneasiness in his chest
- I mean, he didn’t even know if he had a gentle bone in his body, all he knows how to do is ruin things
“You…” his cold voice came, you were walking home in the dusk from the ramen shop after hanging out with Naruto.
“Uh.. yeah? Hey?” You responded, confused and a bit anxious as you stuffed your hands in your pockets. He came closer, a blank look on his face.
“Forfeit,”
“Huh?”
“Forfeit the fight, I will kill you,” He explained, blinking so casually as he watched your complexed reaction.
- he, in his own scary way, was trying to warn you that he could not control himself
- He was kind of happy when you got his underlying message.. you really were different
- You forfeited privately, to your sensei who completely understood
- Gaara was grateful when the next night Baki had told him his opponent had changed
——
Rock Lee
- When you were paired with him for the semi finals he had frowned
- He apologized to Neji and his sensei
- Both were very confused
- He had that cute little ‘hmpf’ look on his face with an even cuter pout as he walked down the steps
- When he came face to face to you you saw this look in his eyes
- Both of you didn’t say anything when the ref asked if anyone wanted to forfeit before he called fight
You braced, drawing your Kunai when the fight began. Rock Lee raised his hand, looking like his traditional taijustu pose.
“I cannot fight you (y/n)! Please forgive me I forfeit,” he yelled, clasping his hands together and falling to his knees before you in a bow.
“…wha…?” You deadpanned, uneased by how loud he had just shouted that. He looked up, seriousness written all over him.
- You guys didn’t talk until after everyone had battled, finding him hiding from you behind the tree outside
- He slumped as you yelled at him
- He let you rant before he started his own ramble, explaining how he couldn’t fight you
- He would never lay a hand on you, it was against his ninja way
- His eyes started to water and his top lip twitched, clearly upset
- You rolled your eyes and went to go get ice cream with him
——
Neji
- you guys were paired to fight for the finals
- He was stubborn and if you’re a girl.. low key sexist about it
- He thinks he’s being a gentlemen but absolutely obliterating you with ‘facts’
- King of backhanded compliments
- But what he doesn’t know is you started to train with a really powerful sensei who was travelling through the village and offered to help you
- Throughout the whole month training time he was focusing on his fighting, but you were on the back of his mind
- He knew he wanted to win, but he also knew he didn’t want to hurt you either nor ruin your relationship
- So he spent a lot of late nights trying to figure out ways he could knock you out as quick and painless as possible
- This was all internally and completely private to him, he never expressed any weakness on the outside
- He was pretty confident in himself
- When the fight began and he realized.. you were actually catching him off guard he was perplexed
“I don’t-… how?” He coughed up blood, knees weak as he swayed to try and stay up right. You frowned, he hated that.
“I’m not weak Neji, don’t underestimate your opponent. You don’t know me,” Those words were said in order to hurt him, he had ruined your patience with his opinion of you.
“I.. thought I did,” he pondered, eyes lost.
- you gave the final blow to him and he was carried away to infirmary
- When he awoke he stared up at the ceiling for a long time after, feeling his wounds and thinking he deserved the pain for how much he took your abilities unseriously
- He vowed to never make you feel inferior to him and started to rekindle your friendship in hopes he didn’t ruin his chance
——
#anime and manga#naruto x reader#gaara x reader#naruto#naruto uzumaki#naruto headcanons#sasuke x reader#sasuke uchiha#sasuke uchiha x reader#kazekage gaara#gaara#rock lee#rock lee x reader#neji x reader#neji hyuga#neji hyuga x reader#genin naruto
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Happy Halloween~
TW: Identity Erasure a bit, gaslighting, kinda drugging adjacent, bit of breathplay mentioned at the end. As always if these are triggering for you, please avoid <3 Oh sweet dear, you can’t trick or treat in that. You’ll freeze to death with this chill in the air! Why don’t you come in and warm up? I have some treats I made you can help yourself to.
There we go. Isn’t that better? Go on, drink up. I have plenty more tea where that comes from.
I’ll admit, I’m kind of surprised you came up this way. Most people avoid this old house, with all the rumors. About it being haunted. About it being cursed. About the ‘spooky witch’ who lives here. Don’t act so surprised, I know what they say. But really, do I seem like a witch to you?
Of course not. Afterall, if I was a mean ol’ witch, wouldn’t you expect me to chase you off while shouting about cursing you? Give you the evil eye while pointing a finger menacingly at you. Or just start throwing potions or whatever's in my cauldron brewing in your direction.
I would never do any of that, don’t you worry none. No, if I was a witch I’d invite you in to warm up. Get you a nice hot drink. Feed you some snacks. Let you relax and feel comfortable…not even realizing that I slipped a curse into your tea.
But of course that’s not happening right now. You’re not feeling a tingling sensation in your lips. Feeling your thoughts slipping out of your head like sand falling between your fingers. Definitely not finding it harder to think. To remember why you came here. To remember who you are.
Go, take another sip. Doesn’t that taste good? And that feeling. Nothing really like it is there? Having something warm pressed against your lips. Feeling flavors dance on your tongue. That sensation of the hot liquid pouring down your throat and filling you with that heat.
Now, about that spell you wanted me to cast. Hmm? Poor thing, you don’t remember. See, you came up to visit me again, wanting something special. Life can be difficult. Hard. Stressful. Lots of big brain thinking out there. And you…well, sweetie, you’re a bit of an airhead. I swear half the time there’s nothing between your ears except maybe some bubbles.
You were very specific. You wanted something to help you relax. Unwind. Not have to deal with all that nonsense out there. And, well, who am I to turn you down? Hmm? A curse? No no, I’d never do that. You can trust me. Why don’t you take another sip and I’ll help you remember.
So I made a very special one, just for you. Something to take advantage of your oral fixation. Oh now don’t blush like that. You can be open with me. I know all about it darling. Don’t you remember? You told me all about it. All the times you accidentally caught yourself daydreaming about sucking someone off and drooled all over your top. The moments when you’d catch sight of someone’s camel toe or girl bulge and have to rush to the bathroom to touch yourself thinking about servicing them. The hours spent edging yourself stupid as you let a machine fuck your throat relentlessly as you dreamed of working up the courage to handle a gloryhole.
There there sweetie. That warmth in your head is just the memories coming back to you, that’s all. They might have to push out some of those weird thoughts you had about me cursing you, but really that’s for the best, don’t you think?
With your fixation…no. Not strong enough. Obsession? Yes, with your obsession in mind, I made a very special spell for you. To enhance your lips. Your tongue. Give your taste buds a boost. Although it does have some side effects. Your toys and fantasies just won’t be enough to satisfy you I’m afraid. You can certainly try, but you’ll end up playing with yourself for hours unable to cum. You’ll have to get more from another person.
So, I suppose, if you really wanted to, you could leave. Go back out there and have to deal with all that scary big brain stuff. Have to worry about people taking advantage of your new sensitivities. Pulling you into bathrooms and making the suck slut drain their balls. Sneaking you under the desk and making you eat them out over and over again until you can’t get the taste of fresh pussy off your tongue. Humiliating you in public by letting everyone see how drooly you get just from them finger fucking your mouth.
Or, you could stay here I suppose. I could use a good little cum hungry oral toy to help me out around the house. A good pet who’s throat I can core out and reshape to fit me. Trained to take down every last drop and beg for more. An oral addict who can only get off when they’re on the cusp of passing out because they value my cock more than their ability to breathe. Don’t you think that’s a good idea~?
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i just do not get twitter. everyone’s angry about something or someone but they’re all vagueposting and won’t actually say what’s going on. i can’t even follow along with the drama in replies cuz each individual comment can have its own replies and suddenly you’re 20 posts removed from the original thread. discourse there is toxic af and I instantly regret opening the app
#so yea two separate fandoms are having drama and I’m not involved I’m just here getting worked up about it anyway#look if you’re gonna claim someone is such a terrible person that people are afraid to interact with them#and you post on a public platform that you have screenshots to prove it#don’t then say you’re not gonna post them and ask people to dm you if you wanna know what’s going on#especially when you’re talking about people I’m fandom and not actual celebrities with money and power#you’re afraid of repercussions but you’re still gonna make that post about someone you don’t even follow you just ‘heard from others’#that they’re bad and you were sent some secondhand screenshots#you wanna unfollow or block that person? go right ahead#if you wanna call them out then call them out and follow through#people forget you don’t have to post every single thought you have online#and why tf would someone go ‘hey this person who deleted their twitter after being shamed for harassing people is back’#’but they have a different name and I’m not gonna tell you what it is but you should avoid them cuz they’re bad’#howwwwwww#am I supposed to avoid them if I don’t know who they are?????#just say what you mean or shut up#if you actually wanna call someone out or warn people about toxic behavior then do it!!!#stop vagueposting for clout especially when it comes to potential harassment#I mean yea this happens on every social media but I feel like it’s so much more prevalent on twitter#uuuuugh#sorry I just needed to rant#I just wanna sit here with my handful of carefully selected fandom friends and creators and have a good time#but some people just gotta be assholes
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Do you think Crowley told Aziraphale that Gabriel literally told him to stfu and die?
I suspect he didn’t. Cause it just seems like a thing he‘d want to spare his Angel from. On the other hand Aziraphale might not care? Given all the stuff Gabriel and the others probably threw at him throughout his time in heaven.
However it went, imagine the rage Crowley must be in while Gabriel (who was mean to Aziraphale probably throughout their whole existence) casually strolls around the bookshop and says things like You ever feel like everything would be better if you were just near that one particular person.
The goddamn audacity.
#don’t think I forgot that Gabriel#the nerve#some part of Gabriel probably knows that Aziraphale wouldn’t send him away#he‘s too polite for that#good omens#also who knows what Death means for them#you saw how Hastur reacted when Crowley killed ligur#they aren’t really supposed to die (since they‘re immortal) so the threat of actual destruction is… a lot#i mean both Crowley & Aziraphale feared & actively avoided it for centuries#aziraphale#anthony j crowley#am i petty for this? idk#they probably stand above that but come on#or well Aziraphale might stand above that#Crowley I’m not so sure#good omens 2#gabriel good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable partners
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genuinely it is so depressing to spend money drinking just to end up doing nothing interesting and just sitting around
#i need friends who like. doing things.#i need more friends in general but i mean yeah.#would love to have an actual college experience one day. I’ve been in college 4 years or so and I’ve never been to a party and I’ve never#made lasting/close friendships. since pre-covid I haven’t really made friends at all#all my friends (all four of them) are from high school#it’s really fucking pathetic actually how incapable I am of making friends or having a life#and it just feels like a huge fucking waste of time and a waste of a college environment#part of me wishes I would rent at a place full of mostly other students and get a roommate I don’t know (as much as that’s a bad idea if#it’s anything like last time) just so I can be around people and be forced to meet people#also so I can avoid getting lowkey fucked over because my friends I’m supposed to be renting with eventually don’t want to pay a#significant amount of rent and I’d end up paying way more than them just because they supposedly can’t afford it (we all have about the same#income.)#gehsdhdhdhshhd#they also want to rent a place with four of us total and I just. really don’t want to live with that many people. like I think it would#drive me fucking insane. I need control over my surroundings and that leaves me with no control and I don’t like it#and a million other reasons I don’t like the idea#it was originally just supposed to be me and one friend. so. this was not the plan#hahsgshhshh anyway kill me#I’m in that post-drinking state where all pleasant affects of the alcohol have long since worn off and I’m just sort of left a hollow shell#depressed and disappointed.#and I have to go to work this afternoon woohoo awesome so cool#kibumblabs
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thinking abt how agar tum saath ho was my oh-god-i-hope-i-never-feel-like-that song and now it’s the oh-shit-that’s-where-things-are-and-will-stay song
#i love it here!#i know i can’t change anything but like#idk wish i’d never heard these sobgs in the first place#cause now they just randomly loop in my brain til i cry even though i’m actively avoiding listening to them??? help#like mitski hadestown and sad desi music are literally. earworming to no end as if i am not already wrecked enough HDJDHDDH#it’s been like. barely a month i thh#i think or two months i’m not sure but it feels like i’ve been stuck in this. gross heartbroken version of myself for a year. like time#feels so criminally warped HDJDHD it sucks? i feel so pathetic like#on the one hand i don’t wanna discount that the person that ends things can also feel a lot of pain and i know things aren’t sunshine on#either side but on the other hand i do feel like i’m the one who’s more. like. i’m not hurting more there’s not really a gauge for that but#i feel like i’m definitely more pathetic HDNDHDHD#like they must see me and think. holy shit. how did i ever love that mess. yknow. like#idk feeling gross! feeling. extremely. just repulsive? and unable to imagine any world where i have any appeal n the like. thought that mayb#maybe that’s what they see too when they look back has been. stuck in mu head on top of all else and it makes everything so mych worse#i wanna be good avout all this so bafly and i keep failing and i dont know what yo do with muself#everytime i try to do something thats supposed yo be good or healthy it feels so. horrible#ive didappointed so many people i jnkw that and i dont beed like. msuic and shit to remind me i already feel like im at rock bottom#neg#mano.mindtalk#tonight is. very not great GDJDHDHD
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
“Batman. What can I do for you?”
“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”
“Pardon?”
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.
“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”
“No…? Why?”
“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.
“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”
“Hn.”
“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”
“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”
“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”
“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”
“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”
“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
“Totally. Yup.”
“…Fine.”
“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”
“Yes.”
——
“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…
Ah!
“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
“Anyways, fork over my payment.”
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.
“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”
“I don’t litter.”
“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”
“An alive friend?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”
Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.
——
“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”
“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”
#batman#danny phantom#bruce wayne#dc x dp#bamf danny phantom#dpxdc#dcxdp#hal jordan#green lantern#the flash#Barry allen#mentions of Sam mason#phantom doesn’t pay taxes#but Danny Fenton absolutely pays taxes#his parents taught him how to file taxes#tax season is coming up soon tall I’m stressed#arthur curry#Aquaman#Aquaman and being interrogated on Atlantean history#Batman’s nickname is the litterer#you can’t tell me that batarangs don’t go everywhere#sea cryptic! danny au
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A Helping Hand
You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.
Word count: ~3100
Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)
Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well.
“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions.
And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have.
“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book.
Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”
You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words.
The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers.
You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals.
And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class.
Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul.
But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study.
“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could.
And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch.
“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea.
But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain.
“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes.
You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them.
Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms.
You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk.
“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.
She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?”
“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks.
“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.”
“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it.
You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you.
“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact.
You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.
You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open.
“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink.
“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan.
She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed.
You’ve never felt this way before.
“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore.
Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”
You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down.
She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”
Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?”
“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”
“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her.
“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump.
You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked.
The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it.
“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”
You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat.
“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts.
You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...”
She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?”
You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin.
“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”
“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins.
“You want me to help you?”
Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.”
“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.”
You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.”
Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.”
You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours.
You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt.
“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down.
“Please, professor, touch me.”
“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower.
Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well.
“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says.
“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum.
“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better.
“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?”
“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too.
“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing.
“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone.
Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling.
“How are you feeling now, baby girl?”
Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.”
Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?”
You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed.
“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on.
Your mouth falls open.
She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning.
“Wait, can you-”
She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.”
You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.”
She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.”
She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you.
She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.”
You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips.
“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.”
Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good.
“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.”
Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation.
“Are you ready?” Agatha asks.
“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in.
Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size.
“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.”
“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.”
Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her.
“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp.
“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?”
“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble.
“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again.
Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them.
“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes.
You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”
She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.”
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x reader#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha x you
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firefighter!abby who comes in every sunday morning to your floral shop, tucked in a tiny corner downtown. you’re usually tucked away in the back, doing floral arrangements, calculating your inventory, organizing new shipments, or just avoiding others in general. an introverted nature is ingrained into your bones. so, dina takes over the front counter. she’s sweet, kind enough to engage in conversation. big brown eyes and welcoming smile always seeming to put the customer’s at ease, assessing their needs as they step foot in the door.
firefighter!abby who comes in on the dot, half-past nine, right before her shift. her build, incredibly tone, clad in black cargos and her seattle fire department t-shirt tucked in. she greets dina with her blinding, pearly white smile. warming her up to the core as dina grabs the assortment that’s ordered every week. yellow roses, white lillies, and peach carnations make their way into the abby’s hands. she thanks dina, with the same somber look in her eyes before she exits with the same bouquet she always does.
firefighter!abby who is out for the day, cup of coffee in her hand, ellie to her right telling her about the black-haired beauty she met at the local pub. swearing up and down there was a cute friend, supposedly, but it really just sounds like this is her only way in which her friend needs to enlist help from the hunky-blonde for assistance.
“So, let me get this straight. You met this girl—”
“Dina.” Abby pauses, blonde eyebrows quirk upwards. “Wait, does she work at a floral shop?”
“Yes—” Ellie pauses, envy swirling in her emerald eyes immediately, “Fuck, Anderson, do not tell me you’ve fucked her!”
Abby smirks, wanting to tease her spunky friend. “C’mon, are you fucking serious? No. Shit. Did you really fuck her?” Abby winks as she takes a sip of her black coffee, bicep flexing in the process.
“Dude. How the hell am I supposed to compete with your greek god fucking biceps?” Ellie lifts up the sleeve of her shirt, comparing her much smaller arms to Abby’s very toned and thick muscle. Even Abby’s veins are more prominent than hers.
Abby giggles, “First off, you can’t but you don’t have to…this time. I just buy flowers from there and everyone kinda knows everyone. It’s Jackson.”
“Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a second. Jesus.” Ellie nudges her shoulder, picking at her naibeds anxiously. “So, will you come so you can meet her friend?”
Abby thinks for a moment. How bad could it be? It’s just one night, right?
firefighter!abby who comes to the flower shop on a saturday this time. the doorbell rings signaling her entrance, but she doesn’t find dina working the counter like she normally does. you’re someone new, someone she hasn’t seen before, someone beautiful. so much so, she feels as if her feet have been glued to the hardwood floors. dear god, she looks like a goddamn idiot. she’s thankful you’re helping someone as abby tries to break from her caulking spell.
firefighter!abby who takes note of how attentive you are with the customers even if your body fidgets as you help them but then you smile, it makes her melt. anderson, get yourself together, you have a date tonight. it’s just one, incredibly beautiful girl. you’re fine. she’s fine. before her brain can make one more stupid thought, you’re walking up to her.
You smell of lavender, it coats Abby’s senses as you make a beeline for her. It could be the shop or it could be you. She believes it’s you.
“Afternoon, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, Abby reads the name tag on your chest and musters up somewhat of a coherent sentence. You start making the arrangement for her, it’s then she notices how familiar it is.
It isn’t the flowers she typically chooses, the one she orders through the website of the shop, but the craftsmanship is identical. Down to the yellow ribbon to wrap it neatly, keeping the specially made bouquet in place.
Abby’s blue eyes must light up with wonder because you smile, it's soft as it slips out of you, too quick for you to hide behind the wall you usually keep yourself within.
“Um, you make all the arrangements here, right?” Anxiously, you dust your hands on the maroon apron tied around your waist.
“Yeah, I would hope so. It’s my shop.” You’re not boastful about it, or snarky, it’s sweet. As if you’re proud and you should be.
“Oh, sorry! I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I just, um—” Speak blondie, you’re making a fool of yourself. “ I come here every week and have just never seen you before s’all. It’s nice to match the wonderful shop to the even prettier owner.”
Abby wonders why she doesn’t ask for your number or even try to. She’s not exactly a stranger to beautiful women. When she knows what she wants, she’s like a dog with a bone. Never has she ever halted, or had someone stop her dead in her tracks without even trying.
In her mind, she’s finding excuses. It’s the sun’s fault for letting the light hit your eyes perfectly, saturating the color even further. Or the way she obsesses over your curves, or the joy seeming to radiate every time you smile.
It can’t be any of those little things.
Abby fishes for the wallet in her jacket pocket, before handing you her card, you finalize the transaction before handing the silver card back to her. Calloused fingertips press against yours, much softer than Abby’s, but it excites the two of you.
Not that either of you spoke a word of it.
“You’re girlfriend’s a lucky girl. It’s a thoughtful gesture—” but your eyes build a fright in them, a horror that you can’t take back. “I’m sorry! Oh my god. I didn’t mean to just, fuck, assume you had a girlfriend or that you’re into girls. Jesus, I don’t know what came over me. God.”
Abby bites down a smirk as you anxiously beat your nail on the countertop as if you ruined the interaction. Impatiently needing this to be over.
“S’okay, really, you didn’t assume wrong.” Mischievous pools of blue look you up and down, pointed canines kissing her pink lips as they bite at the flesh.
“I don’t have a girlfriend. Well—” Abby leans over placing her palm against yours, her fingertips linger on your skin, setting it ablaze. Releasing your grip of the bouquet and palming the wrapped flowers in her firm grasp.
“Not yet.”
lmk what you think! hope you enjoyed it! ♡
#currently working through my writers block so thank you for the patience <3#here's somy fluffy goodness!#firefighter!abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x fem!reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x masc reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x y/n#abby x reader#abby anderson fluff#abby x you#abby x y/n#firefighter!abby
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🌪️ whirlwind.
scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍
It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.
You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.
The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.
And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.
By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.
And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.
Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.
Tyler. God damn. Owens.
You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.
“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”
You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”
Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.
Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”
You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.
Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.
“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”
If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.
Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.
He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”
Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.
Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.
The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.
Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.
Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.
Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.
Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.
Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”
You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them.
It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.
And you only knew by accident.
Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.
You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.
Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.
Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.
You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.
Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”
You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.
“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.
Shit.
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”
This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”
“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”
The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.
And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.
A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.
“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”
You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.
“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”
“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”
“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”
You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.
The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.
The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.
“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”
“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.
“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”
You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”
“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”
“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”
“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”
“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.
“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”
Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”
“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”
Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”
“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”
Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”
You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”
Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”
You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.
Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”
His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”
His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.
You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.
For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.
“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”
For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.
Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.
His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.
Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.
Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.
“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.
It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.
“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.
“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”
He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.
“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”
“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”
Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.
“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”
Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.
“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”
You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him.
“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”
Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”
He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”
Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.
Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”
You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”
“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.
Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.
You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.
“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.
Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.
“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”
He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”
Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.
“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”
“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”
“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.
Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours?
“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”
You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.
“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”
“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”
Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”
You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.
By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”
You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.
“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”
“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.
“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”
Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”
Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.
A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.
But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.
You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.
“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.
You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”
You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.
You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.
You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.
#twisters#twisters x reader#scott twisters#scott twisters x reader#scott (twisters)#scott (twisters) x reader#scott miller#scott miller x reader#scott twisters x you#scott twisters x y/n#scott miller x you#*fic#**#fic: whirlwind.#thank yuuu for reading! 🥺🩷
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avoid any action.
with manifesting, there comes an intrusive urge to act. a deep need to do something to get something. we often try to change our world or ourselves through actions. however, we don’t alter or attain things with the use of our bodies. we can only ever achieve things with the use of our MINDS.
! this post was partially inspired by @sparklingself and her post called "do nothing" !
law of assumption.
let’s take a look at what the law of assumption states.
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law of assumption
/lɔː/ /ɒv,əv/ /əˈsʌm(p)ʃn/
"the law of assumption postulates that the assumptions of an individual shape and create one's physical reality."
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so, what does that mean? how does this help us?
mentally, not physically.
just like assumptions take place in the mind, so does everything related to manifestation. after all, manifestation is forever done in the mind, and not with the body. all events that have taken place physically, first took place mentally. everything external used to be internal. conversely, you can only put out what you already put in.
in conclusion, you cannot DO anything. there is nothing for you to perform, nothing for you to execute, nothing for you to accomplish. you can only BE. so, in order to become someone new, to coerce something into BEING, you need to refrain from taking any action. let go of all efforts to alter the physical. instead, alter the mental.
mental and physical in contrast.
okay, alright, but what if you still try to physically achieve your goals? how about we try to prove the law wrong. let's say you want to get xyz while being in a negative mindset in relation to xyz. you don’t really believe in getting xyz, nor do you believe in yourself. but if you try your best physically, it should still workout, right?
nope. and i'll tell you why. you can never alter yourself with an act in opposition to your belief. your desired version of self cannot be attained by force. you cannot force yourself to achieve something while already knowing you won't or can't. if it isn’t already withIN you, it won’t and can't be withOUT you.
on the other hand, that version of yourself with your current mindset in that present state is NEVER going to achieve xyz. because that version of you is tied to that self concept, that state and that reality. creation is finished, meaning, this reality is finished. it’s forever going to look like that. you are forever going to be like that. ONLY if you change your state from within, you can ensure a change from without. that’s when you shift your state of mind, and therefore, your physical reality. you cannot physically shift. you need to mentally shift. because no matter HOW much you try to make reality B (undesired) look like reality A (desired), it won’t ever change the fact that you are still experiencing reality B.
externally dependent action.
now, what about the 3D? what if i am changing my assumptions but don’t experience them physically yet? this part is very important for any of you who are thinking of completely turning your back on your 3D, who feel overwhelmed by it or don’t know how to deal with it.
1 · first of all, you are doing great. keep doing it.
2 · second of all, living in the end and focusing on embodying your desired version of self does not mean that you start refusing to LIVE. you aren’t supposed to deny or reject your human experience when it’s not convenient for you. you are still going to do your chores, have your responsibilities, attend school, go to work, and so on. in your mind, however, you are being who YOU want to be and have what YOU want to have. it’s about knowing the external world is going to change because it has to, plus balancing experiencing both worlds. in the end, your outer world will show you how your inner world looks like.
often times, suddenly abandoning yourself in the physical world will only harm you because then it will only be harder for you to dismiss the negative parts of your reality. it usually makes things a lot more draining and challenging.
physical techniques and methods.
this is just gonna serve as a reminder: techniques and methods are only there to help. they aide you to obtain a feeling of "naturalness" in correlation to your desires. they don’t do the manifesting. actually, they have no power on their own. you know who does the manifesting? YOU. you and only you. thus, you can do a method 111 times and still not manifest your desire because your assumptions say otherwise. everything you manifest with the support of a method or technique can be traced back to you, moreover your MIND's power. not your bodies power, and certainly not your hands ability to write down a script 123 times.
"there is no need to do something. don’t do anything. because if you WERE who you wanted to be, all you would do is experience BEING it. you wouldn’t DO anything." — edward art
don’t change it. let it be changed.
with love, ella.
#law of assumption#law of attraction#neville goddard#loa#loablr#loassumption#manifesting#manifestation#manifest#spiritual#spirituality#edward art#shifting#reality shift#reality shifting#shifting realities#self concept#specific person#eiypo#affirmations#master manifestor#subliminals#loa tumblr#how to manifest#manifest it#manifesting it#loa blog#affirm and persist#assume and persist#imagination
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new beginnings
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Masterlist
part two :)
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“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest.
“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”
Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been.
“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked.
A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”
Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.”
You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”
Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”
You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”
Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”
You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.”
Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”
Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”
You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”
She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.”
You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo.
But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again.
“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”
“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.”
You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.”
You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed.
She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”
You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped.
✰ ✰ ✰
“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug.
Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you.
Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”
Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny.
“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”
“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”
You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”
They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food.
“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you.
Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly.
“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).”
“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.
Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend.
“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.”
You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued.
“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”
Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door.
Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you.
“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”
Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him.
You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship.
“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”
Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”
Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”
You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”
Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”
You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person.
Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you.
“Oi!”
Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo.
“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo.
“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face. “Theo, what are you doing?”
He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”
“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”
You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps.
“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?”
You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly.
“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”
You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.”
“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.”
He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?”
Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall.
You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo.
He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained.
“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant.
Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”
Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup.
You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”
He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”
“Why? You broke up with me.”
Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”
You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”
Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”
He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”
“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested.
“You wanna be my friend?”
“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.”
Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.
“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.”
#AW SNAP#THERES ONE FROM THAT PROMPT LIST#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott x reader#harry potter#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire#ron weasly x reader#george weasley#fred weasly x reader#cedric diggory x reader
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Uncertain Bonds
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: none
Summary: While posing as a couple at a high end event on a small kingdom the Night Court is supposed to make an alliance with, Y/N and Azriel uncover some shady business and need to act quickly to avoid getting caught.
Prompt(s): 4.Pretending to be in a relationship for a mission/ event. 31. "They're looking. Kiss me now." 16. Character A pushes B against a wall to kiss them. 29. “Do you think they bought the act?" "While I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey."
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
Azriel took a glass of wine from the serving table and brought it to his lips. He never took a sip as he surveyed the room. Everyone was dressed in extravagant gowns and danced around the room happily. So far, nothing seemed to be amiss.
“You do realise that standing in a dark corner staring at people intensely may be a cause for concern, right?” Y/N said, sauntering up to Azriel.
As he turned to look at her, Azriel felt himself become weak at the knees as he took her in. The dress she wore was one he has seen a couple of times before. She mainly wore it to Starfall or some other event. Though Azriel remembered her wearing it the day she bought it. That was the day the mating bond snapped for him. And it was the day he began to avoid Y/N.
At first his avoidance wasn’t intentional. The first time he excused himself from her was just after the bond snapped and he was dealing with the shock of finding his mate. Someone he never thought he would find; he had never expected to find his mate within his best friend, the one he had loved for centuries. Everything overwhelmed him and the more he felt the bond, the more he unintentionally avoided Y/N.
Up until he was asked to join her on her mission.
“You know this isn’t the usual work I do,” Azriel said, taking a sip of his wine. Normally he would never drink while doing a job, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed it to help him relax in Y/N’s presence.
“I know that, my love, but you need to relax tonight,” Y/N said, stepping closer to him, gently taking the glass of wine from his grasp. “Loosen up a little.”
Y/N took a sip before placing the glass down on the nearby table. She leaned up to whisper in Azriel’s ear. “If you don’t relax, people will begin to suspect.”
Y/N’s scent sent Azriel’s senses into overdrive as her perfume seemed to surround him. There was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to wrap her up and take her right there in front of everyone, claim her as his own. Azriel knew that it was just the bond talking— the desire talking— but the image did cross his mind.
Before Azriel even had the chance to say anything, Y/N pulled away and took Azriel’s hand in hers. “Now come and dance with your wife.”
Oh, how Azriel wished that were true.
Y/N led him onto the dance floor and positioned their arms herself. Azriel remained rigid as people surrounding them stared for a moment too long. Of course they did. After all, Azriel was the only one in the whole building who had a pair of wings sprouting from his back.
Y/N giggled at Azriel’s rigid position. “You can relax a little more than that, Az.”
“I can’t,” Azriel replied. “We aren’t here to dance. We are here to do a job.”
A small frown appeared on Y/N’s face for a brief moment but it was gone and quickly replaced by an easy smile. “This is my job, Azriel.” Y/N began to slowly lead the dance. Azriel followed in step, though not as graceful as Y/N. “I don’t keep to the shadows and watch. I get involved and listen.”
“That is not how I do things,” Azriel replied
“No it’s not,” Y/N said. “But this is my mission, not yours. I am in charge.”
Azriel sighed. “I know. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”
Instead of the forced smile, Azriel saw that it was replaced by a small genuine smile. He felt his heart skip a beat. “I know,” she replied. “But you know that if anything were to go wrong, I will have your back and I know that you will have mine. That is the way it has always been.”
“And it always will be,” Azriel finished.
Y/N’s eyes lit up and her grip tightened on him as they spun around the ballroom. “What happened to us, Az?”
Azriel frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
For a split second, Y/N looked down at the floor between them and stumbled over her feet. Azriel quickly stopped and steadied her.
“Perhaps your little girlfriend there should lay off of the wine,” a woman near the sneered as Y/N gently knocked into her.
Azriel growled in her direction. The woman backed away quickly.
“Az,” Y/N said, gaining his attention again. “Let us go to the side of the ballroom, perhaps it will be better for us.”
Azriel wrapped an arm around her waist and walked with her to the side of the ballroom, standing near another couple talking quietly to one another. As they neared them, the couple looked at the two as if studying both Y/N and Azriel.
Azriel simply ignored them.
“What I meant by my words, Az, was why haven’t we been as close over the past year? You have barely even looked in my direction and when we are alone you always find an excuse to cut out conversation short. You were meant to be my best friend, you seem to not want that anymore.”
No. Azriel didn’t want to be best friends anymore. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to love Y/N freely. He wanted to kiss her. To hug her. To be with her every waking moment of the day. He was made to be with her. He wanted to be her mate. He wanted to be her husband. The ring on his finger used to keep up appearance felt so foreign but felt so right. The pair to it on Y/N’s finger. Azriel only wished it was real.
All he wanted was her, but he couldn’t express that to her.
“I do want that,” Azriel said. “I will always want that.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?” Y/N questioned. “You even asked if Cassian could come on this mission instead.”
Azriel sighed and looked around the room. “Look, Y/N I will tell you—“
Azriel cut himself off as he noticed the couple they had stood next to secretly slip out of the room and through the servants passage. “That couple is gone.”
“You think there’s a possibility that they are who we’re after?” Y/N asked, suddenly switching to her professional mindset.
“We were told that they were young,” Azriel said. “So far they seem like the ones who fit the description the most.”
“Let me slip out first,” Y/N said. “Follow me after.”
As Y/N went to walk away, Azriel gently took her hand in his. “Be careful,” he said.
Y/N offered him a small smile. “I always am.”
Y/N slipped away and Azriel watched her, sending a shadow to wrap around her arm to keep an eye on her. Even though he was going to catch up to her quite soon, he wanted a piece of him with her to make sure she would be okay.
Y/N slipped out and Azrie remained by the wall for a few moments longer. No one else in the entire room seemed to pay any attention. Azriel slowly made his way out into the servants passage. Still there was no one looking his way. Azriel slipped into the passage.
It was dimmer in the passage but the moment Azriel’s eyes found Y/N, his heart yearned for her. In the dim lighting, she seemed to shine as the light hit her jewellery and dress. She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She looked ethereal.
“Az,” Y/N whispered. “They didn’t go too far. Come on.”
Azriel and Y/N walk a little further down the passage until they turn a corner. The passage opened up to the main hall just off from the ballroom.
“They went through the door there,” Y/N whispered.
The two stood just outside of the door, just about hearing what the two were discussing inside.
“The funds are paid in full,” the female said. “There shouldn’t be a problem sending them though now.”
The male seemed to sigh. “Do you know how long I have waited for those funds? Do you know how long I have been lying to my father because you didn’t do your job properly and allowed someone to get away with the entire kingdom’s fortune.”
“These things take time!” The female exclaimed. “I had a hard time trying to track down the one who stole from you father.”
“Eight months,” the male replied. “It took you eight months. My father needed those funds. That court in Prythian has been questioning where all of their trade deals are. Do you know how much my father had lied because of what you did? He’s afraid it will cause a war and you know that we do not have the army to back us up. We barely have the funds because of you.”
“I’m sorry!” The female cried.
“I take it we found the reason why all of the trade has stopped suddenly,” Y/N whispered.
“But can we get back to where we were before all of this happened?” The female begged. “I love you!”
The male didn’t reply. “I don’t think that is a possibility. You have betrayed my father therefore you have betrayed me. You are lucky I am not banishing you for what you did.”
“Please!” The female cried.
“No,” the male replied. “Anything that was between us is over. I will tell my father the truth of what happened and that he can now send his trade deals again. Be lucky that the court in Prythian decided not to send anyone here. You know their reputation.”
Footsteps approached the door and Azriel and Y/N began to panic. There was nowhere to hide. Azriel frantically looked around the hall and there was a small alcove. He wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her into it. Her back pressed tightly against his front.
Azriel could feel all of her pressing against him. Her soft skin against his. The scent of her shampoo wafting up to his nose. The slope of her neck enticing Azriel to press his lips against it.
The door opened and two footsteps came out onto the stone floor. Y/N held her breath and pressed her body further into Azriel’s. As she did so, her hand accidentally brushed the sensitive skin of his wing. Azriel jerked.
A small vase to the side of Azriel fell from the ornate stone podium it sat on, cracking on the floor.
Everything stilled.
“Who's there?” The male asked.
Y/N turned around to look at Azriel, her eyes wide in panic.
“I know your there,” the male said and Azriel realised that he had caught sight of the edge of his wings.
Y/N, seemingly realising the same thing as Azriel whispered; “They’re looking. Kiss me now.”
“What?” Azriel whispered. He knew exactly what Y/N and said but he needed that second confirmation.
“Kiss me,” Y/N said.
Not wasting a moment longer, Azriel surged forward and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. They were just as he imagined. Soft, slightly sticky from her lip gloss, but Azriel didn’t care. He needed more.
He spun the two around and pressed her against the wall kissing her even harder. Pressing his body against hers. His hand pressed between the wall and her head to not harm her.
Y/N’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands. Azriel couldn’t help but moan deeply. Y/N only smiled against his lips.
Azriel couldn’t get enough of her feel. He wished he could stay like this for eternity. He pulled away slightly. “Jump.”
Y/N did as he commanded and jumped up to wrap her legs around his hips. The slit in her dress made it easy. His hand found her thigh and squeezed it tightly before moving to her ass and it remained there.
Azriel pressed his lips against hers, feeling himself harden in his trousers. The need to have her had taken over.
His lips left Y/N’s lips and trailed down her neck, slightly nibbling the sensitive skin.
“Az…” Y/N whined.
Her hips seemed to move as she gained more friction.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Azriel panted against her skin, placing open mouthed kisses against the base of her throat.
Azriel gripped her hair and pulled her head back, allowing him more access. Y/N only pulled on him in return. Azriel smirked against her neck.
In their lust filled haze, Azriel and Y/N forgot about the two figures standing just behind them. The male cleared his throat.
“Excuse me?” The male spoke up.
Azriel felt as if he were doused in cold water as he pulled away from Y/N’s neck to look over his shoulder.
“What?” Azrie growled, annoyed that he was interrupted.
The female’s face was bright red as she looked between Y/N and Azriel.
“I will return to the ballroom,” the female said, clearly flustered. She left rather quickly.
The male remained, his eyes narrowed.
Y/N smirked. “You can join us if you want? Sometimes it takes more than one male to satisfy me.”
Azriel’s hand squeezed Y/N’s ass possessively as the male simply scoffs and walks away. Neither Azriel nor Y/N moved until they were sure they were alone.
“Do you think they bought the act?” Y/N asked.
“When I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey,” Azriel replied.
Y/N laughed. “Back with the pet names? Perhaps I have my best friend back after all.”
Azriel smiled before it fell away. Best friend. What they just did was not what best friends do. But like Y/N said— it was just an act.
“Would you mind letting me down?” Y/N asked.
“Oh,” Azriel said. “Of course.”
Y/N’s legs unwrapped from Azriel’s hips and he helped her to the floor. Her hands lingered for a brief moment but Azriel thought they imagined it.
“Well we have our information now,” Y/N said. “Looks like there was nothing nefarious going on. Just someone not doing their job properly.”
“I don’t understand why the king didn’t write to Rhys,” Azriel said. “He would and helped.”
“Yes but a king admitting his fortune was stolen can cause a dent in his ego,” Y/N replied. “Looks like we are not needed here anymore.”
“Seems like it,” Azriel replied, a sense of disappointment washing over him at the fact that the fake rings on their fingers would be taken off the moment they returned home.
“We paid for the room in the city for another two nights,” Y/N said. “It would be a shame if the money would go to waste. We could perhaps stay a little longer. Make a small holiday out of it.”
“But we need to report this to Rhys,” Azriel said.
The disappointment was apparent on Y/N’s face. “You’re right. We should just pack and get back home.”
As she turned to walk down the hall, Azriel took her arm. “Or maybe we can stay for the extra two nights. We haven’t had a chance to look around yet.”
Y/N’s face lit up. “Are you being serious?”
Azriel smiled. He couldn’t help it, her joy was infectious. “Deadly.”
***
It was late at night and Azriel laid in his bed looking at the ceiling. Y/N was sitting by the fireplace reading a book. The room they had book was the last one available at the inn. And with only one bed it was even more of a predicament.
For the two nights they had been here already, Y/N had slept in the armchair by the fire. Azriel had offered but he simply couldn’t get comfortable with his wings. Guiltily, he had taken the bed. And even then, the bed was simply too small.
Azriel sat up and looked at Y/N. Her hair was simply tied back and hung down her back and her face was devoid of the gold makeup she had worn earlier in the day. She was wearing simple sleepwear and slippers on her feet. Even if she was beautiful back at the ballroom, she was even more beautiful now.
Since they had returned to the inn, Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss in the hall. If they hadn’t been interrupted, what would have happened? Would he have told Y/N that he was her mate? Would he have confessed his love for her? Azriel wasn’t sure but he was sure that Y/N had enjoyed what had happened.
He didn’t mention it to her but he could smell her arousal the whole time when they retired to the inn. The scent had gotten fainter as the night progressed but it still lingered in the air.
Y/N turned the page as Azriel stood up from the bed. “I’m taking a walk.”
“Avoiding me again,” Y/N said.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N said. “I was only joking.”
The comment might have been a joke to Y/N but to Azriel it wasn’t. He was avoiding her. And he was avoiding his own feelings. Perhaps he should come clean. But there was that possibility that she would reject him. Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to survive that.
“Az, you were going for a—“
“I love you,” Azriel confessed and felt a large weight lift from his shoulders.
Y/N laughed a little. “You don’t need to pretend right now. No one is here to see.”
“I’m not pretending, Y/N,” Azriel said. “I love you. I am in love with you.”
Y/N frowned and Azriel dreaded her response. This was the moment she rejected him.
“Are you being serious, Az?” Y/N asked
“I am,” Azriel said. “I have been in love with you since the moment I met you, Y/N. That kiss earlier. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Feeling you pressed so close to me. Feeling your lips against mine. Hearing you moan my name. It is the only thing that has been on my mind since we left the palace. I don’t think I can keep my feelings a secret anymore.”
“Az,” Y/N began and Azrie prepared himself for the worst.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either,” Y/N admitted. “I’ve been sitting here reading for over an hour and I have managed about three pages. I cannot concentrate on anything that isn’t you.”
Azriel held onto that small bit of hope within him. “Why do you keep thinking about it?”
Y/N sighed, though it sounded happy. “I can’t stop thinking about it because I have been hoping to kiss you for many years now.”
“What?”
Y/N giggled and it was music to Azriel’s ears. “Your feelings are not one sided, Azriel.”
“Please say what you mean, Y/N. I need to hear it,” Azriel said, his voice breathless.
“I love you, Az,” Y/N admitted. “I just never thought you returned those feelings because I believed you to be in love with Mor.”
Azriel let out a sigh of relief. “I stopped loving Mor centuries ago. In fact ever since you walked into my life I haven’t even thought about Mor at all. You are constantly on my mind, Y/N. You have a home in my mind and I can never rid myself of you even if I wanted to.”
“Why did you never tell me?” Y/N asked, standing from the settee and walking over to Azriel. “Why have you been avoiding me this past year?” Y/N gently caressed his cheek.
“I never thought you were in love with me, I didn’t want to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t feel the same. I would rather be friends than lose you completely,” Azriel said.
“But that doesn’t explain why you avoided me.”
Azriel leaned into Y/N’s touch. Placing his hand over the one that resided on his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. “Feel it, Y/N. Allow yourself to feel it. Open yourself up to it.”
Y/N closed her eyes and it wasn’t long before Azriel felt a warmth flood his body. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, shock resided within them.
“You’re my mate?” Y/N said.
“Yes I am,” Azriel said. “The reason why I avoided you was because the bond snapped for me a year ago. I never thought I had a mate. I’ve been alive for centuries and I’d given up hope. But when it snapped for you, I was overwhelmed by it. At first I was happy but I didn’t think you returned my feelings so that is why I began to avoid you. I was always overwhelmed by you. Your scent. Your laugh. Your touch. I would have never been able to control myself. I never wanted to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t return them and I didn’t want you to only develop them because of the bond. If your ever loved me, I only wanted you to fall for me naturally.”
Y/N’s eyes softened. “And I did.”
Azriel smiled. “And I am glad you did.”
“Az,” Y/N said. “Please just kiss me. I need to feel you again.”
Azriel took no time and pressed his lips against hers. It started out gentle but soon the hunger and the pull of the bond changed it into something different. Something feral.
Y/N backed Azriel up to the bed and as he sat, she straddled his hips, pressing her core against him. Azriel groaned into her mouth.
“Perhaps,” Y/N said, panting, “we should invite that male to join us.”
Azriel growled and flipped their positions. Y/N now spread out on the bed below him, her hair fanned out on the pillow.
“You’re mine,” Azriel said, kissing across her jaw.
“Good, I don’t want to be anyone else’s.”
#acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fluff#azriel fic#azriel fanfic
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Sunshine [7] - Heat Wave
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: There are many ways how a first date can end.
Word Count: 4400
CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
A rational and emotionally mature person would know that drunk calls were normal, and the aftermath was inevitable. Drinking too much sometimes led to that, everyone knew, and a rational and emotionally mature person was supposed to just handle it with dignity.
Too bad you weren’t that person.
“So you’re avoiding the hot lumberjack?”
“Can we stop calling him that?”
You repressed a laugh and filled Nik’s cup with coffee.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m avoiding him,” you said. “It’s just…you know, I’m sure Logan is a very busy individual so if anything, I’m doing him a favor by not distracting him. For all we know, he could be on a mission right now. Do you really want him to die because he’s answering my call? I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”
“Sunshine—”
“He could be saving the world,” you pointed out. “Do you want the world to end because he is answering my call? Do you want me to be the person who causes the extinction of the whole humankind? I mean honestly what am I, a tech CEO?”
“You’re so avoiding him.”
You heaved a sigh, then leaned against the counter.
“I texted him the next morning.”
“But you didn’t call him?”
“I can’t call him,” you whined. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Nik said and you tilted your head at Jamie who was eating his breakfast.
“How are you being so quiet about this? I thought you’d be thrilled that I’m avoiding him.”
“I am but I can’t comment on this whole thing, I have a conflict of interest.”
“Conflict of interest?”
“Yeah I hate the guy’s guts,” he stated before nodding at you. “Keep avoiding him, you’re better off without him.”
Nik gasped. “Jamie!”
“Babe, that guy is a walking red flag.”
“Even if it were true, he also looks like he belongs on the cover page of those vintage romance books my grandma has in her library.”
“Fabio?!”
“I don’t know his name Jamie, but in Logan’s case I’ll allow a little red.” Nik stated. “It’s been years since she got laid.”
Your jaw dropped. “No it hasn’t!”
“I’m half scared she’ll join a convent,” Nik said, motioning in your direction and making you roll your eyes.
“Guys.”
“She’s not just going to get laid, she’s already talking about moving to the mountains with that asshole.”
“It’s not a mountain, it’s a cabin in the woods!” you argued and Jamie shrugged his shoulders.
“Whatever it is.”
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear from me after that night,” you said. “I mean I totally made a move on him and…”
“And he turned you down because you were drunk!” Nik said with a smile and Jamie made a face.
“That’s like the bare minimum, don’t get impressed by that.”
“And when he maimed three guys for her?”
“The least he could do, considering what they threatened her with. Should’ve killed them if you ask me.”
A shiver ran down your spine but you made yourself busy with the tablecloth, wiping at the counter while Nik raised his brows.
“Driving her home so that she wouldn’t walk in the rain? Fixing her car? Going all the way from school to her neighborhood because he was worried about her being drunk and outside?”
“What are we, keeping a list now?”
“Darling I know you’re very adamant about hating this guy but you do have to admit the things he’s been doing for her are the opposite of a red flag,” Nik said, patting his hand as if trying to console him and Jamie heaved a sigh.
“I hate this.”
“So you think I should call him?” you asked Nik and he nodded.
“You should.”
“I disagree.”
“Well aware of that Jamie.”
“I hate him.”
“Figured that one as well, strange as it sounds,” Nik said before turning to you. “Call him.”
You nibbled on your lip, then motioned at Stacey and held up your phone, making her nod before you made your way out of the diner. Taking a deep breath, you found his name on the screen and touched it before taking the phone to your ear.
It rang only once.
“Hey princess.”
“Logan, hi!” you said, your heart pacing in your chest. “Um, are you busy?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Took you a while to sober up huh?”
You could feel your lips curling into a smile at his teasing remark.
“I may or may not have been avoiding you,” you admitted, biting at your nails. “I’m sorry.”
“Not a problem,” he said with a small chuckle. “Why were you avoiding me?”
You shrugged your shoulders as if he could see you.
“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “Reasons.”
He hummed and you shifted your weight before you leaned back to the wall of the diner.
“Thank you by the way,” you said. “For…that whole night. And I’m sorry for—for making a move on you, that’s very unlike me and I—”
“Are you free tonight?”
Your head shot up, your eyes widening at his question and you felt your breath catching in your throat before you swallowed.
“Me?” you felt the need to ask and he paused for a moment as if he didn’t know how to answer that.
“…Yes?”
“As in tonight tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh—sure!” you said, your voice going high pitched for a moment. “I’d love that!”
“Great, I can pick you up from the diner—”
“No!” you cut him off as you looked down at your uniform, frowning slightly. “I need to drop by my place first.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I can pick you up from there then. Does 8 work for you?”
“Yeah!” you said breathlessly as you nodded your head so fast that you got dizzy for a second, blinking fast. “It totally works for me.”
“Great,” he said. “See you tonight then.”
“See you,” you said and hung up, then let out a squeal and pressed the phone to your chest, jumping up and down in your spot. You took a deep breath, then fixed your hair and made your way back into the diner to rush to the counter again.
“He asked me out!” you whispered to Nik, grabbing his arm. “Just now, he asked me out!”
Jamie let out a whine and buried his face into his palms while Nik grinned at you, patting Jamie on the back in a reassuring manner.
“See? Told you.”
“We’re meeting tonight! At 8!” you said and paused for a moment. “Oh my God what do I wear?”
“A Regency gown.”
“Jamie I love you but not now,” Nik told him before he turned to you. “We’ll videocall okay? You, me and Julie.”
“Okay.”
“And after you and Logan become a couple, we can have a double date.”
That was enough to make Jamie lift his head from his hands. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll convince him,” Nik told you and you let out a giggle, your insides all warm with excitement.
“Nik,” you said. “I really really like him.”
Nik let out an “aw!” and reached out to squeeze your hand.
“That’s good!” he said. “I mean granted we will grill him about his intentions with you but it’s a great start.”
Jamie opened his mouth to disagree but Nik elbowed him, shooting him a glare. You suppressed your laugh as Jamie heaved a sigh, then turned to you.
“Just…” he said. “Be careful. Please?”
“Always am,” you promised him with a grin. “The pie is on me by the way. For emotional support.”
*
It wasn’t that you hadn’t been on dates.
Nik was quite the matchmaker, so was Julie. In fact, for the last year, they had been acting like their sole purpose in life was to find you a boyfriend so if anything, you had been on too many dates.
Not that—
Not that you assumed this was a date.
Even if you were wearing matching lingerie underneath your dress.
You were basically buzzing with anticipation as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your hair before smoothing down your dress. Your wardrobe looked like it had exploded and for a moment the possibility of bringing Logan back to your apartment crossed your mind, making your heart skip a happy beat. You gathered up all your clothes into your arms to push them into the wardrobe, then put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side.
“Good enough,” you mumbled and walked to your vanity to check on your makeup, then went to the living room to approach the small fish tank. You grabbed the fish food next to it, then sprinkled it into the tank carefully before dragging your finger over the glass, following their movements.
Theo was going to be so happy when he saw them.
Your head whipped around when you heard the doorbell ring, your heart beating in your ears and to make it worse you knew very well that he could hear it but you refused to dwell on it, so you made your way to the door to open it.
Fuck, you were beginning to think you were never going to get used to just how hot he was.
“Hi!”
“Hi princess,” he said, his deep voice making your stomach do a happy flip as he looked you up and down. “You look beautiful.”
Oh dear God, you were not going to survive tonight.
“Thanks, so do you,” you said with a smile before you turned around to get your jacket and purse. “So um, where are we going?”
Where you were going turned out to be a cozy bar with soft music playing in the background. It was somehow so Logan, there was no chaos, no deafening noise or blinding lights.
Just pure comfort; the kind that made you almost lightheaded, warming your insides.
“So why exactly were you avoiding me?” Logan asked as the waiter put his whiskey and your cocktail on the table and you took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to focus on the question rather than how handsome he looked under the dim light of the bar as you crossed your arms on the table.
“I mean…” you trailed off, scrunching up your face for a moment. “I was embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“Uh I don’t know if you remember that night,” you tried to joke your way through discomfort. “But it wasn’t what one would call dignified.”
He shot you a lighthearted glare and you shrugged your shoulders.
“I turn into a very impulsive person when I’m drunk,” you admitted and his lips quirked into a smile.
“Yeah I don’t know that many people who buy fish when they’re drunk.”
“Oh you don’t know the half of it,” you said with a laugh. “I have a worse drunk story actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah, on my senior year in high school, me and my friends got drunk and in our town there was this guy who was a dog breeder,” you said. “And we knew he was terrible to them, we wrote petitions and everything for the town council to do something but there was no use. So one night, we knew he was out of town so we broke into his house and stole all the dogs.”
He raised his brows, smiling slightly. “Seriously?”
“Yeah! And we kept all of them at my friend’s house and one by one we got them adopted. The guy knew we did it, but there was no chip or anything so he couldn’t do anything.”
“Wow,” he said, a chuckle vibrating in his chest. “So you turn into a vigilante when you’re drunk, got it.”
“I do,” you said, raising your cocktail in a mock of toast before taking a sip while he leaned back. “I love animals. I was actually studying to be a—” you paused for a moment. “Well, studying is a big word for it considering I dropped out without even completing my freshman year, but I was studying to be a vet before Theo.”
He tilted his head. “Really?”
“Mm hm.”
“Classmate?” he asked and you licked your lips, an icy spark replacing the happy warmth inside of you.
“Uh,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “T.A actually.”
Logan pulled his brows together and you took a sip of your cocktail.
“Trust me, I know how fucked up it sounds now,” you said with a small laugh. “But back then I didn’t and it worked out very well for him.”
“That guy really sounds like he needs to get his ass beat.”
“Oh Jamie actually beat him up once,” you pointed out. “In what became known as The Legendary Bar Fight. We celebrate it once a year with drinks.”
“You could give me his address.”
“Absolutely not, and I don’t even know where he is to be honest,” you said. “Anyway, why are we talking about him? Also why am I the one doing all the talking yet again?”
“I like listening to you talk.”
You could feel your cheeks growing warmer and a smile curled your lips.
“Until I give you a headache.”
“Never gonna happen.”
Your smile widened as you looked down at your cocktail, shifting your weight.
“Well, either way,” you mumbled. “It’s your turn now.”
“Oh, my turn?”
“I barely know anything about you,” you admitted. “Other than the fact that you have been saving me a lot since we met.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you’re willing to tell me,” you said. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”
“Alive.”
Your brows pinched together as you took a deep breath.
“Limited options, got it,” you said. “Were your family also mutants?”
“My brother,” he said. “Victor. We don’t…talk anymore.”
Something in his tone was distant, so you decided not to push it.
“Do you like working for Professor X?” you asked, steering the conversation to safer waters and that seemed to pull him out of his thoughts as he nodded his head.
“Yeah,” he said. “Charles is the best man I’ve ever met. Don’t tell him I said that though.”
“Cross my heart,” you said with a giggle, proud of yourself for finding a better subject. “How did you meet him?”
“He found me back when I was a cage fighter.”
You blinked a couple of times. “Sorry, a cage fighter?”
“Yeah I was uh…” he paused for a moment. “Wandering.”
“How does one become a cage fighter?”
“Wrong crowd,” he joked, making you let out a laugh.
“I’d bet. And now you are part time teacher, part time…going on missions.”
“Mm hm.”
“And you have a costume,” you mused as he shook his head slightly. “Any chance I’ll get to see you in it?”
“If you ask nicely.”
A fire spread over your cheeks at the teasing tone in his voice and you scrunched up your nose at him.
“I’m always nice,” you pointed out nonchalantly. “Or has it escaped your attention?”
“Trust me, it hasn’t.”
His lips twitched when a smile warmed your face and that soft light started gleaming in his eyes.
“Okay,” you said, sitting up straight. “Another question.”
“Shoot.”
“You really didn’t get a handkerchief?”
He scoffed a laugh. “You remember that?”
“Unfortunately.”
“As I said, I had other priorities in mind.”
You narrowed your eyes a little. “I could see you in period clothing, now that I imagine it...”
“Please stop imagining me like that.”
“Like those long jackets, long boots—oh my God,” you gasped, making him raise his brows. “Logan!”
“I’m not gonna like what you’re about to say, am I?”
“A top hat!”
Logan nodded to himself. “Yep, called it.”
“No seriously,” you insisted. “On Halloween—”
“Absolutely not.”
You let out a small laugh.
“Nik throws these amazing Halloween parties and the theme was ‘write your own story’ a couple years back,” you said. “So I got this huge dress, like…17th century huge, with a corset and everything, and no one really thinks about it but it is quite hard to unlace a corset—" you tilted your head when you saw his smirk. ”Hey!”
Logan held up his hands, gesturing surrender.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Let me guess, you’re painfully familiar with how to unlace a corset?”
“Still not saying anything.”
You hummed, trying to adapt a serious expression.
“Anyway, Casanova,” you said. “So my story was, there’s this girl, who was betrothed to the love of his life, and then he gets lost at the sea and everyone is convinced that his ship sank, but the plot twist, he wasn’t dead so he comes back but he’s a vampire, and he turns her into a vampire as well –obviously with consent— and they live happily ever after.”
“Quite the love story.”
“Thank you,” you said happily. “So no handkerchief?”
“No handkerchief.”
You hummed, then heaved a sigh.
“Very well then,” you said and grabbed your purse to take out a pen, then pulled the napkin on the table to yourself to write your initials on it. You pulled back to look at it better, then held it out for him.
“There you go, Mr. I had other priorities.” you said with a grin. “A make do handkerchief.”
The fond look on his face was enough to make your heart skip a happy beat as he stared at you, then took it from you and folded it before he pulled out his wallet, making your eyes widen.
“Oh I was just—you don’t have to actually keep it, it’s a silly joke,” you stammered and he shot you a glance of disbelief as if he was surprised that you thought he wouldn’t.
“I’ll keep it,” he said while placing it into his wallet in such a careful manner that one simple observer would think it was something incredibly precious for him rather than just a bar napkin. You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him.
“Really?”
“Really.”
You were painfully aware of the heart eyes you were giving him so you forced yourself to drag your gaze from him to your cocktail and took a huge sip, your heart still beating in your ears.
“Okay then,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I hope you’re ready for more questions, because I have like a million of them.”
*
You had insisted walking after leaving the bar. It wasn’t that far away from your apartment, the weather was so nice, and you had hoped it would make him see you were completely sober, just in case it had escaped his attention how you had only drunk one cocktail in like two hours.
You had plans for tonight and it included him and your bed, God damn it.
“So you actually were a lumberjack?”
“I was cutting down trees and turning them into logs.”
“That’s what a lumberjack does,” you insisted as you walked beside him. “Julie has superpowers, I swear…”
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly. “And you had a real cabin in the woods?”
“Something like that.”
“Are they still hiring?” you asked him, making him let out a laugh. “Seriously, I want a cabin in the woods.”
“For your Hi-Horse?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared up at him. “You remember that?”
“Of course,” he said as if he wasn’t melting your heart with that simple fact and you licked your lips.
“Did you have a horse?”
“Nope.”
“You had a cabin in the woods and you didn’t have a horse and two dogs and a cat?” you asked, pretending to be scandalized. “That’s just being short sighted, Logan.”
“Not all of us want to have a zoo, sweetheart.”
“It’s not a zoo!” you said with a gasp, making him grin.
“A farm then.”
“It’s not a farm,” you argued. “Farms have sheep.”
“Oh you don’t want sheep?”
“Of course I do but that’s beside the point,” you said. “It’s not a farm—”
“What are the sheep’s names?”
“Shearlock and Wooly Wonka,” you muttered, coaxing a chuckle out of him.
“Very creative.”
“Thank you,” you said. “I think it’s against the law to not have animals if you have a cabin in the woods.”
“It’s not.”
“Well it should be,” you said without hesitation and he bit back a smile as you stopped in front of your house.
Anticipation was swirling in your stomach, filling you with excitement and making your heartbeat faster. You knew he could hear it but for the first time, you didn’t mind it.
Desire was too strong to let you feel anything else.
“Um, so before I say what I’m about to say,” you said after a beat, turning to look at him better as you leaned back on the wall of the building. “I would like to point out that I’m completely one hundred percent sober.”
He tilted his head to the left, a mischievous light playing in his hazel eyes.
“Like, in case it has escaped your notice I only had one drink and it was a cocktail and it was a pretty light cocktail so like, half juice really,” you said. “And I’m not even buzzed, and even if I were buzzed, we walked here so fresh air would’ve helped. Which, it has no reason to help because to repeat I’m not even buzzed. I will blow on anything—that sounded wrong,” you corrected yourself, pulling your brows together. “Um, a breathalyzer I mean, if I blew into a breathalyzer it would come out a zero because I’m so sober, and—and—I don’t know if you paid attention to it, but I walked all the way here in a straight line, which should be the proof and if you didn’t, I can walk in a straight line right now to—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he pulled you into a kiss.
You could swear the rest of the world stopped existing the moment his lips touched yours. His arm sneaked around your waist while he cradled the back of your head with his other hand, making your breath catch in your throat. Desire turned into fire in your veins, reaching your chest before it sent the warmth all over your body, making you dizzy. You gripped his shirt tighter in your fists, standing on your tiptoes, a soft whine escaping from your lips as soon as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.
“Fuck…” he whispered and you blinked up at him, nearly drunk in the haze.
“No I—I wanted you to do it,” you tried to find the right words through the fog of desire and he licked his lips, looking down at you before he shook his head slightly.
“You shouldn’t,” he rasped out and you pulled your brows together.
“I shouldn’t want you to do it?” you asked him, still trying to catch your breath and he nodded.
“I’m not…” he trailed off against your lips. “I’m no good for you.”
Your frown deepened before you let out a breath, and slowly reached out to cup his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment as if your mere touch was anchoring him to the moment, pulling him out of his own mind before he opened his eyes again to look at you. A tentative smile curled your lips and you thought for a moment before clearing your throat.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” you said, your voice soft. “I’ll be the one to decide whether you’re good for me or not. Alright?”
His eyes searched yours before he let out a breath, then nodded his head.
“Alright,” he said, his voice a murmur before he dipped his head down to kiss you again. A squeal escaped from you as he picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and walked into the building. You had no idea how he didn’t lose his balance or hit anywhere on his way but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was kissing you like this, and you only noticed you had in fact reached your door when he pressed you against it.
“Inside, inside!” you giggled as you fished your keys out of your purse, and he held you with one arm, making your eyes widen while he took the keys from you and opened the door, then walked in and kicked the door shut behind him.
Oh God.
Oh God this was happening.
Now you understood what all those romance novels were talking about. You couldn’t pull yourself away from his kiss even if you wanted to, the fire had taken over your whole body until every single thought disappeared; the only thing that existed was him, and how good his lips made you feel. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you both fell on your bed, his weight taking your breath away for a moment before you unbuttoned his flannel and pushed it down his arms. He tossed it somewhere in the room and got rid of his white shirt underneath, making you let out a breath at his muscular body.
Jesus Christ.
Your fingertips grazed over his broad shoulders before slipping down to his hard chest and he helped you up to unzip your dress, his lips finding yours as if he couldn’t stand not kissing you even for a moment. He pulled back only to pull the dress off of you, but he froze as soon as his eyes fell on you.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” the whisper left his lips like a prayer and you felt your heart skip a beat despite the ever-consuming fire.
“Not really,” you teased him. “I just planned it.”
He raised a brow, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes and he slid down to the foot of the bed, then grabbed your ankle to pull you down, making you let out a small scream before you giggled, propping yourself up on your elbows to see him better.
“What are you doing?”
He gave you a wolfish grin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine as he knelt down at the foot of the bed, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your inner thighs.
“Well, princess,” he muttered, your heart leaping up to your throat when you realized what he was about to do. “You’re not the only one who planned things.”
8 - Scorching
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james howlett#logan howlett imagine#logan x you#james logan howlett#logan xmen#wolverine logan
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A Marriage Story
Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?
Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce
WC: 10.7k
“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison.
“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed.
“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice.
“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose.
“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely.
“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer.
“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you.
“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room.
“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.”
“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.
“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting.
“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”
“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl.
“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”
“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two.
“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there.
“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.
Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor.
“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear.
“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder.
Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep.
“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’.
“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften.
“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.”
You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college.
“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger.
“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.”
“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face.
“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it.
“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show.
“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes.
“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling.
“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely.
“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing.
“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious.
“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.”
“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.
“A-and we still haven’t graduated.”
“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.
“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”
“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed.
“Okay.” You smiled.
“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.
“Okay. I’ll marry you.”
Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks.
“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring.
“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.”
Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.
Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him.
He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness.
Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative.
You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.
When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner.
While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release.
It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you.
As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart.
But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return.
It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were.
“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her.
“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.
“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.”
“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she.
Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing.
“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger.
“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering.
“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.
“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick.
“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”
“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested.
“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”
“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”
“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that.” You shrugged.
“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”
“Mother!” You gasped.
“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.”
“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”
“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?”
Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again.
“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.”
“What are you trying to say?” You squinted.
“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable.
“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.”
Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out.
Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today.
“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual.
“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed.
“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.
“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.
“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting.
“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.”
“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”
“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well, i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”
“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.
“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.”
You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here.
“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly.
“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically.
“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.
“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.”
“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically.
“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”
“Things change.” He mumbled.
“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?”
Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks.
“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely.
“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.”
He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside.
Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward.
“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.”
“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?”
“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.”
“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”
“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.”
“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.
“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.”
“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses.
“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.”
“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.”
“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.
“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”
“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.
“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.”
“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious.
“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.”
“And I���ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it.
“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears.
“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again.
“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?”
“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”
“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“
“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt.
“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived.
“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own.
“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you.
“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom.
Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back.
“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy.
“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen.
You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it.
“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.”
You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers.
“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear.
A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie.
“Hm?” You smiled innocuously.
“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”
“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?”
“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you.
“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.”
“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.”
“We do?” You gulped.
“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.”
“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat.
You hated to admit it, but your mother was right.
“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly.
“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous.
“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”
“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish.
“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped.
“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness.
“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded.
“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”
Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite.
Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight.
How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife.
Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him.
“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing.
“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly.
“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.
“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over.
“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it.
“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.
“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma.
“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.”
“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go.
“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact.
“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“
“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses.
“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band.
“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.
“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”
“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.”
“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead.
“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes.
“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest.
“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“
“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting.
“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment.
“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door?
To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly.
“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.
“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?”
“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”
“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated.
“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said.
He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand.
“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”
“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.
“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”
“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly.
“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his.
“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.
“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“
“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.
“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“
“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.”
“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”
“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“
“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.”
“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better.
“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.
“Huh?”
“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.”
Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.
“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.”
“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy.
“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.
“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips.
“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”
“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.”
“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect.
“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”
Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.
“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”
Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation.
“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”
You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors.
“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off.
“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process.
You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.
“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him.
“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.”
You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying.
“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it.
“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.
“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms.
“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force.
“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left.
“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.
“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt.
“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart.
“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release.
“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could.
“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“
“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.”
You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word.
“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt.
His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length.
“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.
Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.
You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered.
“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.
“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.”
“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.
“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation.
“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified.
He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.
“Uh huh.” You panted.
“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take.
“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly.
“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly.
Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back.
“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.”
“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric.
“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.
“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly.
“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face.
“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.
You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.
Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets.
“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?”
“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.”
“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest.
“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly.
“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”
“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation.
“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.”
“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear.
“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer.
“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.
“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.”
“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food.
“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously.
“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer.
“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.
“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room.
“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door.
“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law.
“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice.
“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt.
“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked.
“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it.
“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“
“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation.
“That’s ridiculous-“
“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.”
“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.”
“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly.
“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption.
“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face.
“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.”
She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse.
“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms.
“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.”
“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed.
“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.
“Don’t push it.”
“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house.
“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence.
“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh.
“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile.
“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!”
“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“
“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on.
“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.”
“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”
“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.”
“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#matthew gray gubler
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Text
Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)
Masterpost
“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”
There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.
He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.
Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.
Danny was a meta and he was afraid.
That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.
(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman���s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)
However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.
(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)
Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.
Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.
However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”
Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”
“….what.”
“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”
“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.
“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.
“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”
Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.
Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )
Post Six
#I dont think I made this one to serious.#batman#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#dp crossover#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dpx#danny is just some guy
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