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a-b-riddle · 5 months

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Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

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absentlyabbie · 1 year

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i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:

living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.

i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.

unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.

there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.

we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)

and we watched them die.

we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.

it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.

too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.

one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.

i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.

and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.

and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.

all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.

they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.

it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.

it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.

the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.

but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.

keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.

they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.

and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.

if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,

keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.

edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.

#long post #cats #indoor cats #outdoor cats #keep your cats inside

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janitorhutcherson · 10 months

Text

Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.

"Use your words," he demanded.

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt smut #olderbf!mike

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firewasabeast · 13 days

Note

prompt: im not gay, but my husband is.

(I loved those scenes in 911 and lonestar where they only wanted the straight white guy to work on them, so I think it would be funny happening with married, bi buck!)

“No, I don't want you touching me.”

They'd been sent on a call to a woman's residence. She had fallen in her driveway on the way to her car. From the moment they pulled up, trouble had started. She didn't want Hen touching her, wouldn't accept help from Chimney, and the second she spotted Diaz on Eddie's uniform she stopped him.

“Well, you're a straight, white man, Bobby,” Chimney said with a smile. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Wait,” Eddie put his hands on his hip, “do interracial relationships matter to you too?” he asked the woman. “Because, if so, Bobby's out.”

She looked around at everyone in a panic. “You!” she exclaimed when her eyes met Buck's. “You can do it, right?!”

“Yes, I am capable of placing a splint on your leg,” he said with no enthusiasm as Hen handed over the splint.

He bent down to get started but she held her arm out to stop him. “You're normal, right? You're not married to someone,” she glanced up at Bobby, “different, are you? Not gay or anything?”

“Oh, no ma'am, I'm not gay,” Buck assured her, before adding with a flash of his ring, “my husband is though.”

“Y- Your what?”

“My husband.”

“So you are gay?”

“Ma'am, please don't get him started,” Hen begged. “He will not shut up once he gets going.”

“There are actually some people that believe bisexuality doesn't exist,” Buck began, waving a finger to emphasize his point. The groans from the rest of the 118 didn't detour him. “It has been proven to cause mental health issues for people who identify as such, and in extreme cases-”

“Okay, okay,” Bobby interrupted, patting Buck's back a couple of times to get him to stop. “This lady is very clearly “in distress” and we should be focused on helping her.” He stared over at the woman, “If she'll let any of us.”

“Can't you call another team or something? One that isn't filled with minorities and heathens?”

“The 112?” Hen suggested.

Eddie shook his head. “All women crew today.” He looked down at the lady, “I'm guessing you wouldn't like that?”

“They're just not as capable as men,” she whined.

“143?” Chimney asked.

Buck stood back up. “With Captain Garcia?”

“No!” She yelled.

“217?” Eddie offered.

Buck perked up at that. He smiled at the lady on the ground. “You'd get to meet my husband!” he exclaimed. “He's working ground ops today. I could call him, give him a heads up?” He bent back down to the woman's level. “He is the gay one though.”

The woman groaned before pushing herself up and grabbing her purse, jerking away at Buck's attempt to help. “You know what? I'm just gonna take myself to the hospital,” she said as she started to hobble away.

“Say hello to Dr. Cohen for us,” Bobby said, sending her off with a wave. She let out one more angry yelp before getting into her car and slamming the door.

*****

Tommy had gotten home about an hour before Buck, already dressed in a white button down shirt tucked into black dress pants for dinner reservations they had that night.

When he heard the sounds of Buck's car door shutting, he headed to the front door and opened it, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey you,” he said with a smile.

Buck smiled back, dropping his duffel the second he reached the porch. He immediately wrapped himself around Tommy, surprising him with a kiss that elicited a moan from him.

“I got to call you my husband at work today,” Buck explained between kisses as Tommy gripped his waist. He led Tommy backward into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. “Twice.”

Tommy breathed out a laugh, pulling back just enough to look into Buck's eyes. “This was your first shift back after our honeymoon,” he reminded him. “So you lasted, what, twelve hours into your workday before mentioning me?”

Buck shook his head. “It was our first call of the day,” he informed him. “More like two hours.”

Tommy hummed, running his hands up and down Buck's waist. “Your whole team owes me double then,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to Buck's lips.

It was Buck's turn to pull back this time. “What are you talking about?”

“They were taking bets on how long it would take for you to mention you were married. I said it'd be less than twelve hours, and you'd mention it more than once. Wait-” He paused, then gave Buck's waist a squeeze, “did you mention bisexual erasure?”

Buck sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It's an important topic, Tommy!”

Tommy simply smiled. “I hit the jackpot, Babe.”

“You placed bets on me?” Buck asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mhm,” Tommy replied. He shrugged. “I won like five hundred dollars.”

Buck's eyes darkened at that. In one quick motion, he turned them and shoved Tommy against the door, pawing at his shirt to get it untucked. “That's so hot,” he moaned, smashing his mouth against Tommy's in a sloppy kiss.

They never did make their dinner reservations.

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #this was a little one #which is rare for me lol

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fandomxo00 · 17 days

Text

Ok but imagine this: having four kids with logan au

Overhearing Logan helping your son when he's struggling

note: I think this will be a continuous imagine with just little situations with the family it will have the 'having four kids with logan au' tag

Theo, was your oldest son, he was now 15, he looked a lot like Logan, though he had your eyes and you couldn't believe that your baby not your baby anymore. He'd been extra emotional lately, taking his anger out on you, Logan, and his younger siblings.

Logan knew he had to prepare for this if he had children, his anger issues would most likely pass on. But he also knew that the anger was misdirected, that there was something wrong and he was asking for help. So, when Theo marched into the house, throwing his bag down, heading downstairs to his room and slamming the door shut. His younger brother, Parker, sighed looking over at his brother before going into a kitchen for his afternoon snack. You went after him, going down and knocking on his door.

"Leave me alone!"

"Baby-." You tried.

"I don't want to talk to you." Theo spat.

"Well I'm here if you do, alright?" You didn't hear anything from the other side, your heart breaking a bit as you turned to see your youngest, Sophie, she was three and she moved over to you. She had the biggest heart, and she was really close with Theo.

"Is Teo sad?" She asked, pointing at the door from the top of the stairs.

"He just needs some alone time, baby."

You brought Sophie to the living room, setting her up at her dollhouse and a snack, she knew to keep her snack at the top of her doll house so your dog, Charlie, wouldn't be able to reach it.

Your middle child, Valley, would be getting picked up by Logan on his way home from work. She always stayed after school to spend time with her friends, or going home to play with them. Some days you picked her up to bring her friend's home or if she had low energy. But she was the most social child, but you also understood her on a different level as she struggled with social cues or 'saying the right thing'. She found her group though; she always did and you'd always be there to guide her through it. Hopefully she can do the same for Sophie, though you would always be there for her too.

She rushed through the door and Logan stepped in after her, taking off his boots before following behind her. "Hey baby." He grinned, coming over to and wrapping an arm around you to pull you and kiss your lips.

"Hey, can you go check on Theo?" You pressed, your eyes scanning his, he understood the look in your eyes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. He goes over to Sophie, before crouching as she talked him about the doll in her hand, he kisses her head before standing up. As he started towards Theo's room, Parker skidded in front of his dad and started going on about soccer practice tonight. Logan volunteered to coach for his team.

"Hey, bud, we can talk about this on the way to soccer alright?" Logan started as Parker went on to talk, a look of defeat came over your son's face. Then Logan clapped him on the shoulder and looked down into his eyes, "Maybe we'll practice your drill, tonight."

"Really?" Parker's eyes lit up, as he smiled over at his dad. Your chest ached a bit as you knew Logan never wanted any of his kids to feel left out or less loved than another. You knew you had the same worry, it's the reason why you decide four kids rather than five. Logan didn't want more than three and Sophie was a very wanted oops. It just seemed like the missing piece of the puzzle. So even though your fantasies were filled with more children, now you couldn't imagine having any more.

Parker came into the living room, getting his video games set up as he rested on the couch. You went downstairs to start on laundry and also overhear little parts of the conversation Logan and Theo were having. You knew that Logan would fill you in later but your worry sadly outweighed privacy. It wasn't something you were proud of, and you were working on it.

"Theo, you're our baby, you are the one who truly started this family, I love you with all of my heart, you are strong, and you're going to live a happy long life. You kids are everything to me and your mom, something I'll never know how to truly express. I know you don't wanna upset mom but she'd understand what your going through."

"I-I just don't know why I feel this way." Theo cried.

"Your mom and I have always struggled with mental illness, and we aren't here for a lack of trying. All you have to do is try, alright?"

"Okay."

"How about we go for a walk in the morning?"

"That sounds good." Theo murmured, before their voices faded, as you started the dryer before grabbing a laundry basket and walking up the stairs just as Theo's door opened and Logan walked out. As you turned your head, his eyebrow quirked up as a small smile came over his face as he shook his head. He definitely knew you were eavesdropping.

"I'll look up some therapists, tonight." You said, softly as Logan got to the top of the stairs as you leant down to put the basket on the floor. His arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you tightly, his head in the dip of your neck.

"Are you upset?" He asked, his voice calm and soft.

"No, I'm just glad he opened up to you." You breathed, rubbing at his forearm as he started swaying the two of you back and forth.

"Mom! Sharlie got my crackers!" Sophie yelped from the living room, as Logan chuckled as you sighed, he kissed your cheek before letting you go. As you started towards the living room, you turned to see Logan grab the laundry basket before heading towards your room down the hall.

"Coming baby!"

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seventeenpins · 1 year

Text

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader

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bellanothadidloa · 21 days

Text

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

#void help

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aperrywilliams · 1 month

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That Green Monster (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Your relationship with Spencer is fresh new, and some of his insecurities arise when someone new joins the team, making him react in a wrong way to you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Fluff and Angst. And then fluff at the end (I don't even understand myself). Spencer lashes out. Spencer is insecure. Reader is mad. Both are so madly in love, though.

A/N: This one has been sitting as a WIP for way too long, so I decided to finish it today!

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A shot in the neck.

That's what it took for you and Spencer to - finally - get together. To confess you loved each other.

Everything happened while working a case in Texas. You had cornered a suspect who was hiding in a restaurant. You wanted to open a communication line with him, but out of nowhere, shots got fired. And one of them ended in your neck.

What happened next was a blur to everyone, especially to Spencer. He barely remembers Morgan pulling him back so that the paramedics could check on you.

The ambulance ride to the hospital and the hours of waiting for news were excruciating.

In Spencer's brain, only the thought that he might lose you forever without coming clean about his feelings for you.

You have been in a similar situation before, but this time, he thought you wouldn't make it.

It would be the loss of a friend and the loss of the love of his life.

If Spencer has to be honest, he realized he loved you after your first month working at the BAU. And with every passing day, the feeling only got stronger. But he was scared of saying anything, afraid of changing - or losing - the strong bond you guys already had.

So, he kept it to himself for years. For six years, to be exact.

But what he didn't know was you had fallen for him, too.

And how could you not? You both went through so many things over the years: Spencer's kidnapping, his Dilaudid problem, your family issues, the injuries, bad cases, unsubs attacks, hospital visits, and so on. With every bump in the way, you both were each other rock. Always together, no matter what.

The team affectionately called you Mulder and Scully, but in reverse roles, of course.

But even if, at some point, both of you realized what you had was much more than a friendship, neither of you did something about it.

Until you got shot in the neck.

In that uncomfortable waiting room chair, Spencer prayed, to whatever or whoever could listen, for a chance to make things right.

So when you woke up in your hospital bed hours later, the first thing you saw was Spencer's face.

He was by your side as always. But this time, he had something to tell you. Spencer didn't have the chance, though, because before he could say anything, three words blurted out from your lips: 'I love you.'

Between happy tears, you both spent hours talking and coming to the conclusion you were both idiots in love.

You didn't say anything to the team, but you all knew they knew, so it became unspoken knowledge after you were released from the hospital.

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With you home due to your neck injury and JJ on maternity leave, Hotch decided that some help would be better than putting more pressure on the remaining team members.

That's why he borrowed an agent from Sex Crimes.

Spencer had already told you that there was a new agent, but he hadn't developed this information in detail.

You knew him on your first day back, a month after you got shot.

Once you exited the elevator on the sixth, you headed through the bullpen glass doors. When you pushed them open, you didn't realize that someone was going in the opposite direction, and you almost hit the guy in the face with one of the doors.

"Oh, my God. I'm sorry!" you exclaimed when you realized what almost happened.

The man shook his head in dismissal. "No, no. Don't be. Nothing happened."

"But I almost hit you with a glass door," you pointed. The guy didn't seem phased by it, though.

"I'm okay, really," he insisted, flashing you a smile. You hadn't picked much of his appearance, to be honest, but the guy was easy on the eyes. Another thing that caught your attention was you had never seen him before.

"Do I know you?" You asked with curiosity.

"I don't think so. I'm Agent Dodds. Jake Dodds," he introduced himself, extending his hand. You've heard that last name before. You told him yours, shaking his hand.

"Really? You are a BAU member, right? I'm the backup agent Hotchner brought to the team," he explained, and then it clicked. He was the new guy.

Jake Dodds was young, fresh and motivated. After his first year in Sex Crimes, he already has a lot of accomplishments to show off. And, of course, he was doing his best to impress Hotch and the team.

Coming to the office bright and early and being the last to leave gave Dodds a chance to engage with the cases and the team members - you included. Due to your neck injury, you were mostly on desk duty, so you had enough time to help Jake with paperwork and all the questions he might have about past cases. And Dodds had many.

In the weeks that followed, he has spent a lot of time by your side, working with you when the team wasn't out of town.

It was part of your nature to be forthcoming and willing to teach others. And having worked at the BAU for almost six years, you felt like you could teach one thing or two.

Spencer loves that from you; it's one of the many things that made him fall in love with you. But for some reason, Jake's closeness to you started to bother him.

Spencer knew it was irrational and without foundation. Still, in the past weeks since Dodds joined, with each laugh from you when Jake cracked a joke, every time you sat together at the office a little too close, or every day you decided to have lunch with Jake rather than him, Spencer's jealousy only got stronger. It didn't help the team's comments about you and Jake.

'Dodds looks hooked by her'; 'The newbie definitely is flirting with her'; 'Really handsome view she has over there.'

Spencer could only bite his tongue. He could easily assume that the team was only messing with the situation, but the green monster growing inside didn't let him think clearly.

Spencer knew you, and you would never do something to hurt him, so why did he feel that uneasiness inside of him?

Maybe the fact you were in the early stages of your relationship made Spencer insecure. It was all new and fresh; he was happy with you, but although you both have known each other for years, he was inexperienced in the love department. Being friends was one thing, but being a couple was different.

So instead of talking to you—which he knew was the right thing to do—Spencer did what he usually does when he feels overwhelmed: he shuts people out.

And you did notice, of course.

Something was troubling him, you knew that, but every time you brought up the topic, he dodged it. You didn't look much into it at first because you knew Spencer would talk to you eventually when he felt ready. Or you assumed he would.

But the days went by, and Spencer still hadn't told you why he had been so distant, so you decided to confront him.

You both were watching a movie at your place, but you noticed Spencer wasn't paying attention to the TV. After an internal debate about whether it was a good idea to bring this up, you tested the waters.

"Spencer, are you okay?" you asked him, genuine concern lacing your voice.

The question hung in the air enough to make you think he might not hear you.

"Spencer?" you tried again, swearing you heard him huff even if he tried to be subtle.

"I'm okay, just tired," he hastened to dismiss, not looking at you.

So he heard you, but you had to call his name again to get an answer. Something is definitely wrong.

Contemplating your options, you chose to end the 'patiently wait until he comes to you' strategy. You were his girlfriend now. Why he couldn't trust you enough to tell you what's going on?

"Okay. This bullshit needs to stop now. You have been weird for too many days to tell me now you are okay and just tired. I know something happened and need you to tell me what it is," you demanded.

Shifting uncomfortably in his spot, Spencer had an inner debate about coming clean to you. He didn't want to admit how much Jake's closeness to you was bothering him. Spencer didn't want you to think about him as the possessive and clingy boyfriend who can't see his girlfriend near other guys.

He wasn't like that, right?

"You are imagining things. I'm perfectly fine," Spencer deadpanned, eyes returning to the TV.

Your mouth went slack. Were you imagining things? Was he thinking you were stupid?

"So I'm imagining things, uh? It's not you being defensive right now, isn't it?"

"No." He gave you a curt answer that meant precisely the opposite of what he was implying.

You wanted to give him a chance to open with you, but Spencer wasn't engaging.

It seemed easier to talk about what was happening to each other when you were only friends. Why is it so hard now you are a couple? You couldn't understand, and your patience was running short.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you called him out in frustration. "Who do you think I am? A random person who hasn't known you for fucking six years?"

Spencer internally flinched. He saw the confusion and anger mixed in your eyes, and he felt the urge to hug you tight, telling you he was being an irrational jealous asshole. But Spencer didn't bring himself to do it, and instead, he tried to play cool and detached.

"I already told you. Everything is wonderful, at least for me. Not for you?" Spencer asked casually.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked calm and collected, but you could feel he was anything but.

"Okay. I'll bite the bullet. So the distance between us in the past weeks doesn't bother you as it bothers me," you concluded.

Spencer let out a bitter chuckle.

"Funny you're bothered by that. You have seemed very busy in the past weeks," Spencer mumbled.

A slip that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Very busy?" you echoed his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Spencer shrugged, unamused.

"Exactly what it is. You have been very busy at the BAU lately. I only have been giving you space."

You squinted your eyes, raking your brain to understand Spencer's meaning. For your mandatory desk duty, you have spent more time in the office than in the field, but besides that, what has been different?

And then it clicked on you. Jake Dodds.

Sure, you've been very willing to teach him things and help him with his work, but that only explains Spencer's annoyance if there is another reason.

"Is this about Dodds? Are you jealous of Jake?" you questioned in disbelief.

Spencer's face paled. You had caught him.

After your deduction, he should have told the truth, but Spencer is stubborn enough not to give in, especially if that meant recognizing something he felt embarrassed of.

"W- what?! No! Where did you get that? I'm not jealous or remotely close to that," Spencer rebutted defensively.

Oh, he was definitively jealous. At the realization, you let out a giggle, eyes softening at your boyfriend. For you, there is no guy he should be worried about- not for Jake or any other person. Your heart is his, and you know there is nobody in this world you want to be with more than Spencer.

But Spencer's face deflated. You were laughing at him, and he felt even worse.

"Spencer, there is no reason for you to be -"

You couldn't even finish your sentence when Spencer cut you off, standing from the couch.

"I already told you! Am I not speaking English to you?"

His face was red, but not by embarrassment anymore. Now, it was a kind of contained rage.

Stunned by his reaction, it took you a few seconds to say anything.

"I - I'm just trying to understand what's going on. Don't be rude," you chimed.

Spencer let out a humorless chuckle.

"Rude, did you say? Am I rude because I disagree with you? Is that? Or am I rude because this doesn't have to do with you?"

"Excuse me? When did this turn into a problem related to me?"

You stood to mirror his stature so as not to look vulnerable.

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you disappointed because not everything or anyone in this world is revolving around you?"

Spencer's voice was cold and sarcastic, something you had seen in him before but never directed toward you. He was outrightly saying you were self-centered.

"Spencer -" you tried to warn him to back off, but Spencer didn't stop.

"No. I get it. You like the attention. But, I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to indulge your childish self. Maybe the young and funny Agent Dodds could help you with that. But not me."

A dead silence settled in the room. If a needle had fallen on the floor, it would have made a noticeable noise.

You couldn't believe that man was your boyfriend—the man who was telling you such hurtful words.

Spencer saw how your features morphed from confused to hurt and then to offense, and with a twist in his guts, he knew he had fucked up.

"Are you done?"

Your tone was flat and collected, even if, on the inside, there was a storm of feelings. Spencer was deflated and looking for the right words to apologize.

"Hey, look, I'm -"

"I asked if you were done." You questioned harshly this time, and Spencer only gave you a shy nod.

"Okay, now get out!"

Your command was only followed by your actions as you walked to your entrance to open the door.

With horror, Spencer tried to sputter words to change your mind.

"I'm sorry. I - I didn't - Please, don't do this."

"I said, get out! I don't want you here!"

You emphasized your words, gesturing to the open door.

"Baby, I wasn't - I didn't mean what-" Spencer tried again, but you had made up your mind and didn't want to hear him.

"I don't fucking care! You had your time to explain yourself, and I don't want to hear anything else from you."

Spencer knew that nothing he could say at that moment would help his cause, so like a dog with the tail between his legs, he slowly made the walk of shame towards your door, but not before looking at you and begging for forgiveness with his eyes. It was a useless thing because you didn't even look at him back. Once he was out of your sight, you slammed the door shut, and your facade crumbled.

Tears started to fall freely, in a combination of pain and frustration.

It's needless to say, you couldn't sleep that night.

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Spencer looked distracted and visibly sad.

Morgan knew something had happened to him, even if the man had denied the fact for the past two days. And Morgan was sure it was something related to you. It looked like Spencer would combust from guilt whenever his eyes landed on you. Morgan's suspicion turned to be right the moment you caught Spencer's gaze, and you purposely averted it.

"Okay, pretty boy, what did you do?" Morgan questioned Spencer when he caught him pouring coffee in the kitchenette.

"What? Me? Nothing!" Spencer defended himself, but the crack in his voice did nothing to help his cause.

"So she's not talking to you just because?"

Spencer shrugged, leaving the pot over the counter.

Was he being so obvious? If Spencer wanted to maintain the facade that 'nothing is wrong here,' he was failing miserably.

Morgan scoffed, grabbing a mug to pour some coffee for himself.

"Come on, Reid. There must be something. Since yesterday morning, you look like a kicked puppy, and she seems visibly upset, and you're both always attached to the hip."

Dangerous territory, Spencer thought. But at this point, his regret was more powerful than keeping your relationship private.

"She is mad at me," the man recognized. It was a 'vague' recognition, but it was something.

Morgan seemed not surprised, though.

"No shit, Sherlock. The question is why, pretty boy," Derek prodded.

Spencer sighed deeply. How could he express what really happened without telling the whole truth?

Morgan saw the struggle in Spencer's eyes.

"I know you are both hurting by whatever happened. Maybe talking would help you clear your head and think about how to fix it."

Spencer took in Morgan's words. Some advice could help, he decided.

"We fought. I mean, we argued two nights ago, and she kicked me out. And now she is not talking to me, and I don't- I want to apologize, but I don't know how."

Spencer winced, just remembering your fight.

Derek looked at him incredulously.

"She kicked you out? What in the world did you do so she reacted like that?"

The actual question was 'what he said' because, strictly speaking, he didn't do anything besides let his mouth run on its own accord.

He regretted every word he said to you the second they left his mouth, but the damage was done, and you were fed up enough to listen to his apologies, so you yelled at him to let you alone. He didn't blame you. But he was feeling miserable, and it showed.

Spencer told Morgan exactly what happened—word by word.

"Jesus, Reid. I didn't peg you like the jealous type," Morgan acknowledged. Spencer shook his head.

"It's not like that. I mean, I know she loves me..."

"But?"

Spencer sighed. "What if - what if she realizes there are better men than me? That I am not enough for a romantic relationship?"

Morgan's eyebrows knit together. Spencer's face was pure panic, only thinking about the possibility.

"And Dodds would be better than you? You know he's like a kid, right?" Morgan pointed.

"Yeah. A young man with a lot of confidence that makes her smile and has her undivided attention. He's smart and qualified for this job like any of us. I'm not better than him. And I can perfectly be disposable in comparison."

That was the thing. Spencer felt insecure about you finding someone better than him.

Morgan looked at him empathetically.

"Man, I think you are looking too much into it. I don't think you should feel threatened in your relationship with her. And I guess she thinks the same and feels hurt for you thinking that."

Spencer nodded. "That's why I know I fucked up. I hurt her for my insecurities. It's all my fault," he lamented.

"You need to talk to her," Morgan advised, and Spencer whined.

"How? She hasn't spared me a glance in two days!"

"You're a genius, Spencer. And above all, how long have you known her? Five years? Think of something."

"Five years, eleven months, three weeks, and four days," Spencer corrected without hesitation.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You'll figure it out."

Spencer sighed deeply as Morgan patted his shoulder before leaving the kitchenette. Derek was right; they should talk. Spencer just had to figure out how to make that happen.

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That night you were sulking at your apartment, laying on the couch and watching some crap on the TV, when three knocks alerted you.

You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't think Spencer could be outside your door. You were clear in telling him you didn't want to talk to him when he cornered you in the breaking room this afternoon.

But if you knew something about Spencer Reid, it was that he could be stubborn as fuck. So when you looked by the peephole and saw him standing there, you only closed your eyes and sighed.

Spencer knocked again. "I know you are there. And I know you don't want to talk to me. But please, let me do the talk. Please, at least listen to the things I need to say."

"You already said enough," you spat from your spot on the other side of the door. Spencer gulped hard. He said enough hurtful things to you to kick his ass, but he was determined to gain your forgiveness somehow.

"I can't stress enough how sorry I am for that. But I need you to know that I didn't mean any of it." Spencer paused, and when he didn't hear you say anything, he continued. "I'm an asshole, and I would understand if you want to break up and never see me again. I mean, well - it - it would be kind of difficult not to see each other because we work together, but you know what I mean. Or maybe not, I don't know. Jesus, what the fuck am I saying?" Spencer chastised himself, trying to control his nerves.

You could hear him struggling, so you decided to spare him a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. You opened your door and saw him still trying to sputter what he wanted to say.

"If this is your way to apologize, you are doing a terrible job." Your voice was not angry but tired. Because if he had had two tortuous days of you not talking to him, you haven't done it any better, overthinking about your fight over and over again.

Spencer's glassy, pleading eyes found yours.

"I know. It seems it's another thing I suck at," he admitted fidgeting with his hands. "Would you, uh. Would you let me try again? Apologize. That is."

It's true you were still mad with him, but you really wanted to understand why he reacted the way he did that night and said all the things he said. You know him too well to ignore that something else beyond mere jealousy clearly triggered his outburst.

Without saying a word, you gestured for him to get into the apartment. Spencer was quick to comply before you changed your mind.

You both took seats on opposite sides of the couch, eyes overly interested in your living room rug. After some minutes of silence and knowing he needed to say something, Spencer cleared his throat.

"I guess I'm going to start with the beginning," he prefaced, keeping his hands in his lap as you turned to contemplate him in silence. "Uh - you know it took me time to come clean with my feelings for you. A lot of time, almost six years," he chuckled nervously. You nodded, not wanting to interrupt him, fearing to get him more anxious.

"The thing is- I have been in love with you for so long and creating scenarios of us in my mind that - that now I know it is real, I don't - It's still difficult to grasp the idea we are together, you know?"

As Spencer raked his hair, collecting his thoughts, you couldn't help but remember all the things you both went through until you decided to tell the truth to each other. Six years is a long time. But you wanted to believe it has been worth it.

"I'm not used to a life where I get to be happy; when I think I am, things crush down, and I lose everything. It's a rule: good things don't last in my life."

You know how difficult it has been for Spencer to accept that he is not cursed or anything like that—a very difficult task, knowing the things he has been through.

"So my mind began to be haunted by the idea that it was a matter of time before you realized you could do better than me, and I'm only worth it as a friend."

His words made you recall the times you both discussed your love life in the past and all the doubts weighing on Spencer's shoulders. After those conversations, you always swore to make him feel loved and appreciated.

"And then you came back to work, and Dodds was there. I created this whole scenario, telling myself that you would be better with someone like him."

Spencer paused to gauge your reaction. You were openly listening to him, taking in every word.

"I know it's unfair to you. I - I betrayed your trust by mulling those ideas and saying all those hurtful things I truly don't believe. I'm so sorry; I don't have a defense other than my incompetence in dealing with my insecurities," Spencer concluded, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips and averting your gaze. He looked embarrassed and vulnerable, and it hurts you to acknowledge how small he feels about himself. You reached your hand tentatively, touching his forearm, and Spencer's eyes drifted back to you.

"Spencer, you have to know there is no one in this world who I love so deeply as I love you. No man could compare to you. No matter how young or confident or whatever difference you can name. You are the most thorough, caring, and selfless person I know, and I love you so fucking much it hurts," you gave his arm a gentle squeeze to emphasize your point. Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He still needs to get used to your compliments.

"What I still don't get is why you didn't tell me. Don't you trust me enough to talk to me about how you feel?"

Spencer hastened to reply, taking your hand in his. "No! It's not that! I do trust you with my life!"

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth at the beginning?"

"I - I don't know. I thought you would see me as the shitty boyfriend who can't see his partner near another man. It's as if I wanted to control you. And that's far from what I want," Spencer explained, scooting by your side as his grip on your hand tightened. "It was my problem, not yours. You did nothing to make this happen. I'm the one who must have to fix it." You shook your head.

"Baby, no. If it is something that upsets you, it is my problem, too. Spencer, we need to talk about those things and resolve them together."

Spencer's head hung low, taking in your words.

"But why? I am the insecure one, and you have done nothing more than show me how unfounded my fear is."

"Well, because you're still my best friend, and I care about you." Spencer's gaze met yours again. "It's the thing I first loved about us, you know? I love feeling safe with you and having the trust to talk about what is happening to us." With loving eyes, you brought his hand to your lips to kiss it.

"I want you to keep being my best friend, too," Spencer said with a hopeful smile. It was all you needed to hear.

"Then please don't forget that. You can always talk to me, and I promise to do the same, okay?" Spencer nodded at your words, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay. I promise," Spencer replied before wrapping you in a tight embrace. You melted in his arms, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent, something you have been missing in the past two days.

"I love you," you mumbled into his chest. "So so much."

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry for my behavior two days ago," Spencer muttered in your hair.

You chuckled, slightly parting to look at him.

"Yeah, we have to work on taming that green monster, doctor. Otherwise, Hotch won't be able to bring anyone new to the team," you pointed, leaning to kiss his lips. Spencer smiled into the kiss.

"That means you forgive me?" he asked hopefully. You narrowed your eyes.

"Yes. But you still have to make it up to me," you teased, faking seriousness.

Spencer nodded eagerly nonetheless. "Whatever it takes."

"You could start making something to eat. I'm starving here after two days with a hole in my stomach," you rubbed your belly for emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled, standing and strolling quickly to the kitchen. He felt so relieved after coming clean with you that he swore not to make the same mistake again. That green monster fed by his insecurities dissipating as he thought how lucky he was to love and have you in his life.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

894 notes · View notes

l0v3tast3 · 1 year

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pervy neighbor!toji headcanons !

toji sets his sights on you and just can't look away!

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, maybe tw for stepcest (toji dates your mom)?, age gap (reader is college age, toji is probably late-30's), kind of dubious consent, infidelity, loss of virginity, unsafe sex, kind of obsessive!toji, pet names, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia, reader definitely has daddy issues (but no daddy kink)

✎ word count: 5k words (might have gotten a little carried away. but it's proofread!)

✎ author's note: something about jjk characters makes me have the worst, filthiest thoughts i've ever had, but i'm not upset about it. also genuinely surprised that this turned out to be 5k words i thought it would be like 2k max ( 〃▽〃) . . . toji brings out the best and worst in me <3

masterlist | requests

♡ when toji first lays eyes on you, it's sick how fast he starts thinking dirty thoughts. your mother and you are his new neighbors, coming over to say "hi" and introduce yourselves. your mother looked to be around his age, while you looked like you were probably in college (she must have had you when she was young like he had with megumi), but the way you half-hid yourself behind your mom wasn't helping you look any older.

♡ your mom makes you introduce yourself to him and you do so shyly, calling him "mr. zenin", barely making eye contact with the man that was a full head and a half taller than you. he smiles down at you and sticks out his hand, and after a moment you shakily take it, his engulfing yours completely. he could easily pin down both your hands with one of his. hell, he could pin down your whole body with one of his hands. he lingers a little too long, and you retreat a little further behind your mom after he lets go, your face an adorable shade of red.

♡ toji only half-listens to your mother rambling on, mostly just staring at you and being grateful that his shirt was long enough to cover his boner. he tuned in when she talked about how you went to college but still lived with her because it wasn't far. he also listened to when your mother mentioned her job took her across the country or even out of it a lot of the time. oh, so many thoughts were already forming in his head. toji could get quite creative when he wanted to.

♡ he can tell your mom is attracted to him when she juts out her chest and mentions her deadbeat ex-husband more than once. so he exchanges numbers with her and flirts a little. he's a single man, what else is he to do?

♡ toji figures out that, by the grace of god it seems, your bedroom is the one with the window directly across from his, and you don't seem to realize that your pink lace curtains are see-through. it really just kept getting better for him, didn't it? he absolutely watches your silhouette of you changing, watching your little figure take your shirt and shorts off, imagining he was in the room with you. if he were there, he wouldn't have to watch you put on other clothes. he would take off your clothes for you, probably rip them a little too (on accident, of course). he would make sure you didn't put anything on for a good long time, except maybe some cute lingerie. or a collar.

♡ he takes the time to work up to dating your mom. toji's a patient man, he can wait to get his hands on you. distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? and the better he gets to know your mother, the better he gets to know you, too. oh, she raves about you, of course! a model student and such a good girl, never getting into any trouble, always focusing on your schoolwork. you graduated top of your class in high school, and were on track to do the same in college. her baby was basically a genius! toji's heart swelled to hear about just how much of a good girl you were.

♡ it's not long before he's at your dinner table with your mother and you and a wonderful home-cooked meal. the woman that he's supposed to be looking at luckily talks enough that she doesn't realize toji is staring at you the whole time. you practically squirm in your chair under his gaze, hardly saying a word unless you were spoken to. he asks you normal questions, like how's school going, oh you're in your last year? any plans after college? he loves hearing your meek voice stutter out your answers. your mom has to tell you to speak up and you get that cute redness in your cheeks again, raising your voice just the slightest bit. you still called him "mr. zenin", so he tells you to just call him toji. you nod, but you don't actually say his name after that.

♡ at the end of the meal, he of course insists on cleaning up himself, and he's in the kitchen with a grin when he hears your mother telling you to help him clean up. you mumble something he can't hear, and your mom responds with "he is not scary, now go help him!" and he laughs a little. he'll make sure you aren't scared of him for long.

♡ you shuffle in with a few more dirty dishes and place them next to the sink, then look around for something to do before awkwardly picking up a rag and starting to dry what he had already washed. after a little bit of silence, toji strikes up some friendly conversation. "so, are you really liking college? your mom has been telling me all about how well you're doing. she's always talking about how much of a good girl you are," he says. the way your face once again got red was something toji needed to see more often. you seem to stop dead in your tracks and malfunction a bit when he calls you a "good girl", and you stutter something like "uh, yeah, it's- it's been good. she... actually said all that?" he wants to feel how you'll clench around him when he calls you a good girl as you take his thick cock. "yeah, she did," he says with a chuckle. "what? does she not say it to you a lot?" you shake your head no. poor baby, no one was telling you how great of a job you were doing. toji will, though. he'll praise you all night long when you manage to fit all of him inside you.

♡ he starts coming over more after that. he notices that (when asked first) you start telling him more about your achievements in college, like when you ace an exam or your professors write good feedback on your essays. and of course, he's always there to tell you what a great job you did; sometimes he adds in the words "good girl", just for fun. he even starts getting little smiles out of you, tiny at first, but they started spreading to your pretty eyes not too long after. you even start calling him "toji", finally. his name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, he wants to hear you say it while he's got his head shoved between your squishy thighs.

♡ it takes months, months of toji jerking himself off to every filthy thought imaginable about you, months of getting you to warm up to him, months of convincing your mother that he really was into her. it all pays off when the worst storm of the season rolls in. it's around 10pm when your mom calls him from halfway across the country, worried about you because she heard about the storm. apparently, you'll "freak out" if the power goes out. you get paranoid easily, she says. toji tells her not to worry, he'll check on you. he grabs his keys and coat and is knocking on your door within two minutes, albeit drenched in rain water. he sees you peak around the curtain of the window next to the door before you open it, asking him what he was doing here. "your mom asked me to check on you. says you scare easy." she was absolutely right, but you still huffed indignantly.

♡ you let him in, of course, and ask him if he wants a change of clothes. you say your mom probably has some of her ex's old clothes lying around that might fit him. he says sure and asks if he could shower, too. you stutter out a "yeah" and lead him to the bathroom, showing him where the towels and soaps were, accidentally brushing against him in the tight space. he can feel how intense your heartbeat is, just for a second. it makes toji want to smooth his hands all over your body, dig into the knots in your back and make it slow before he raises it even higher. you scurry off to your moms room to find a change of clothes for him.

♡ it takes you awhile to dig out something that might fit him, a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. it takes you so long, in fact, that he's out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, opening the door just when you're about to leave the clothes on the floor. he thinks your nose might actually start bleeding when you see him shirtless, and it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. part of him thinks it would be funny to just drop the towel, but you scare easy. you hand him the clothes and speed-walk to the living room before he can thank you.

♡ toji gets changed into the t-shirt that clings to his skin and the sweatpants that are loose but will definitely show the imprint of his dick as soon he sits down. luckily, your couch has pillows. he finds you in the living room, your legs curled up to your chest as you look through netflix for something to watch. he plops down right beside you, making sure to grab a pillow for his lap, putting a foot up on the coffee table. you ask him if he's staying, and he says of course, what if the power goes out? do you know how to use the circuit breaker? you say you sort of do. he clicks his tongue and declares he's staying. you just hand him the tv remote and tell him to choose something to watch. you always let him take the lead with everything.

♡ it takes a lot of back and forth of him teasing you for never knowing what to watch and you just repeating "just put on whatever you want!", and when you finally do decide on something, the power goes out. you let out a squeak and instinctively press yourself closer to him, but he's wrapping an arm around you and saying softly that it's alright, it'll come back on soon. he can see your worried expression from the streetlights shining in faintly, and he reaches up to lightly pinch your cheek, muttering that you're so cute like this.

♡ "you think- you think 'm cute?" you ask quietly, and he nods with a smirk. "mhm, think you're adorable. such a pretty girl," he says, leaning in just a little closer. his large hand that takes up half your face is in your hair now, tangling his fingers in it and playing with it a little. you're so warm, heating up the more he touched you. his other hand rubs your back, slowly going lower, inch by inch. he can see his touch having an effect on you, a very, very positive one. your breathing gets a little bit quicker. he can feel your heartbeat through your back.

♡ "think you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen." the hand on your back is coming back up, to your shoulder and grazing past your neck to cup the side of your jaw and stroke his thumb over your soft cheek. "do you not think you're pretty, baby?" you definitely notice the pet name, but you don't say anything about it, just look down and shake your head a little. "oh, princess, can't have that now." he guides your head back up to make you look at him again with wide eyes. "i can show you. you're gonna let me show you how pretty you are, right baby?"

♡ you give a tiny nod and he kisses you, and god, toji is in love with your lips. they're so soft and sweet, and he can't help but move a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in deeper, greedily swallowing the little noises you made. he finds it cute how you struggle to keep up with him, how a whimper escapes you when one of his overly-sharp canines catches your lip. he wants to mark you all over with them, claim every part of your body as his, listen to you yelp when he sinks them in almost too deep.

♡ toji draws away and laughs when you try to follow him, taking in your dazed look, red lips shiny with his and your spit and blown pupils. "aw, sweet girl, you already look so fucked out. haven't even done anything to you yet," he mumbles as he starts kissing down your jaw and around your neck. the pillow is gone and he's picking you up effortlessly to put you on his lap, facing him. he's obsessed with how small you are compared to him. you're trying so hard to hold back more noises, and your hands go to his broad shoulders, as if you were going to push him away (not that it would do anything, he's got an arm wrapped around your back now). but you don't, you just gasp out a whiny "what about my mom and you?" and he draws back a little to look you in the eye, lips hovering just over yours again. "'m just showin' you how pretty you are, baby. she doesn't appreciate you enough, does she? i can, so much better, princess. we can keep it secret, right?" he says, his voice low and rumbling and you look hypnotized.

♡ you nodded a little with an "mhm" and he smiles, kissing you again. he takes his time with you, as agonizing as it is, but he needs to work you open. your mom was going to be gone for another few days still, and he had already waited this long. when he pulled away again he went straight to kissing down the other side of your neck, using his hand still in your hair to move your baggy shirt to expose more skin. he uses the other one around your waist to press you into him a little more and down enough to feel his hard dick through your shorts and his pants. it forces a little gasp out of you and your grip on his shoulders tightens, balling his shirt. "toji, i've never- haven't done this before," you mumble. he knows, of course, he knew it from the start, could practically smell it on you.

♡ "'s okay, princess, i'll go slow. i'll be so gentle with you, promise," he mumbles into your skin, his hands all over your body, in your hair and on your back and your arms and under your breasts, over your stomach. it's almost overwhelming to you. his hands end up grabbing you under your thighs, just below your ass, and you let out a yelp and wrapped your arms around his neck tight when he stands up with you. "c'mon, baby, can't show you how pretty you are in here." he brings you to your room, glad to see there's a little bit of streetlight coming in too here. he sits down on the edge of your cushy bed with you still in his lap, lathering your collarbone with attention.

♡ his hands are rubbing your hips, edging underneath your shirt and pressing you down more and more against his aching cock. "feel how hard you get me, sweet girl? 's cause you're so damn cute," he breathes, and he's so happy when you start shakily grinding down against him, your legs spread so wide by his. he's been waiting for this for so fucking long, and now he's finally in your room, finally inching your shirt over your head for you. toji's scar stretches with his smile when he sees you aren't wearing a bra, and he catches the arm that tries to cover yourself up. "mm-mm, princess, gotta see all of ya." he puts your hand back on his shoulder and uses his to grope the tit he's not sucking and nipping and licking at. your body twitches and a dainty hand goes to his hair, and you're finally moaning for him, whimpering his name when he tugs a little too hard with his teeth.

♡ the power comes back on on it's own just as your nipples are starting to get sore, your fairy lights taped around the edge of the ceiling lighting the room up with a soft glow. toji detaches himself from you and smiles. "can finally fuckin' see ya again, 'bout time," he mumbles, going right back to what he was just doing. you whine and your grip on his hair and shoulder get a little bit tighter, but his hands don't let you move in any direction except closer to him. he keeps going, too busy thinking about how gorgeous your tits will look when they're swollen with milk, how sweet they already are and how much sweeter they will be, until you tug on his hair a little and say his name between sharp breaths. he finally lets up and his hands go to your waist and hips.

♡ he helps guide you while you grind down on him, just taking in how you close your eyes and let out sweet little gasps whenever he bumps your clit through your shorts and underwear. "gonna let me take these off of ya, sweet girl?" he murmurs, his hands massaging your thighs and ass, waiting impatiently for you to nod again before he picks you up again and lays you down on your bed. he's just glad it's a queen size; enough space for him to fuck you most ways he wants.

♡ he follows your shorts and underwear down your legs with his mouth, committing all your embarrassed squeaks to memory. you try to close your legs once he has everything off but of course he doesn't let you. toji's smile doesn't leave his face while he's taking your thighs in his hands to spread them apart, leaving one to smooth a hand over your belly. "prettiest girl i've ever fuckin' seen," he says again, watching his hand go to spread your little pussy apart. his thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk and he laughs. "so damn sensitive. never had anyone down here, baby, not even to eat this pretty pussy out?" you can't even look at him when you shake your head. if it's possible, his dick gets even harder. "good. dumbass frat boys couldn't ever do it like i can."

♡ once toji finally gets his mouth on your soaked cunt he doesn't think he's capable of stopping. you're practically dripping onto the bed, and he's there to lick every drop up, swallowing it happily and coaxing as much more as he can out of you with his tongue. your body is already writhing, you already have your hands in his hair, you're already crying out for him, and he's in a state of euphoria.

♡ he stops for a moment and you're about to ask what's wrong before he's muttering about how the bed is "too damn short" and you're being dragged down to the edge. your noise of surprise turns into a gasp when he starts sucking on your clit again, now kneeling on the floor. toji throws your legs over his shoulders and holds down the top of one to keep you in place, his other hand coming back to your pussy. his middle finger is slowly sinking into you and he moans into you when he feels how tight you are; his hand is never going to be enough to get himself off after this. when he starts working in a second finger you cum; you can feel it everywhere in you, taking over your body and your head (you think you may get addicted to this, to toji doing this to you).

♡ of course, toji doesn't stop after you've cum once. he gives you a little break, despite being so close to breaking himself. he's so close to letting himself loose on you, so close to digging his fingers in just bit too hard and sinking his teeth in too deep. somehow, he manages to just rub your hips and nip at your inner thighs. you mewl out his name and try to pull him back up to you but he doesn't budge, instead laughing and shaking his head. "not yet, princess, you're still way too tight." he pushes two fingers back in, his mouth hovering back over your clit. "wouldn't want to rip you in half, would we?" you stopped listening the second he started back up on your still-sensitive clit, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair again. "ah-h, toji, wait-!" he wasn't listening either.

♡ he doesn't let up until he makes you cum with three fingers (twice) and you're nearly crying from overstimulation. the only words you seem to be able to form at this point are "toji" and "please", and toji thinks this is his new favorite version of you. eventually, when he runs out of patience and he deems that it won't hurt that much, he finally lets you come down from the high he'd kept you on. he leaves one more mark on your thigh before he stands up to strip himself down quick, releasing a breath of relief when his aching cock is finally freed.

♡ it takes a moment for toji to decide how to take you. in all the months he waited and thought about this, he never could decide on this part. he would have you ride him, if your legs weren't still shaking. he decided to just say "fuck it" and go with missionary; easier to see your cute expressions like that. toji moves you back up the bed and climbs over you, smiling and cooing down at your watery eyes and his favorite shade of red painting your skin. he wraps your legs around your waist and brings his hands to cup your face again.

♡ "aw, what's wrong, baby? you were beggin' me for somethin' just a minute ago, what was it? hm, princess? c'mon, use your words." you mumble out a little "please", and toji shakes his head. "'please' what? you want more, 's that what you're tryin' to say? c'mon baby, tell me you want more," he says, one of his huge hands grabbing your jaw, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. your eyes widen a bit and you nod, squeaking out a "more, toji, please!" and his cheeks start to hurt from how wide his smile grows.

♡ he took a moment to appreciate the view of his dick resting heavy on your stomach, a before-shot of how deep he'll reach inside of you. his head came to just below your belly button; toji could have came just from that. he notices you're still just looking at him and he takes one of your hands and wraps it around his cock for you, and you finally look down at it. he wishes he could take a picture of your face, it's both hilarious and incredibly cute. "toji, 's not- not gonna fit," you mumble as he moves your hand up and down it. he laughs a little. "we'll make it fit, princess, don't worry." he's gathering both your hands now in one of his and pinning them over your head. "it'll only hurt for a minute, then it'll feel so good, baby, i promise. not gonna want me to ever stop." toji rubs his dick through the folds of your pussy, covering it in your own arousal, his head brushing your clit and making you whine. "all ya gotta do is lay here all pretty and take it for me, you can do that, right baby? i know you can, bein' such a good girl for me." you're melting and practically dripping from his words and he lines his head up to start pushing into you.

♡ your hands squeeze his just about as tight as your tiny pussy does around the head of his cock once it pops in. toji kisses you and moans while you gasp, and he pushes in a little more, and you already feel like this would be enough. he's so thick; his fingers had felt so big to you, but now that just made you feel dumb. he draws back an inch just to push in two more and your legs are tightening around his waist. you're making cute little noises while he pushes your jaw up to mark more of your neck. he's everywhere, surrounding your entire body with his, not giving you an inch to move. you feel him everywhere, inside and out, and he's so deep inside you, and he still has a couple inches to go.

♡ his hips finally meet your thighs and toji thinks he's found heaven. he was so elated to have you how he wanted you, ecstatic that his months of work had finally paid off. he stops sucking on your neck to come nose-to-nose with you, his hold on your jaw loosening so he could thread his hand through your hair. "ohh, fuck, pretty girl, you're doin' so fuckin' good, bein' such a good girl for me," he breathed with a smile and hooded eyes. "does it hurt, princess? 'm sorry, it'll go away soon, baby, i promise. gonna feel so good in a minute. feels so good around me, so much better that i ever thought- shit, baby," he chokes out a moan when you're squeezing even tighter around him and you whine, trying to move your hips to get him to move.

♡ he starts moving, and he swears he tries to go slow, but it admittedly doesn't take long before he's really fucking you. "takin' it like a fuckin' champ, baby, my god. feels so fuckin' good. never leavin' this pussy, fuckin' never, princess. hah, sweet girl, don't squirm so much, how am i supposed to find all your good spots like that? that's it, baby, just take it for me. such a good fucking girl." his mouth gets filthy and it just doesn't stop running while he fucks any air and any thoughts out of your body. he's too deep, there's too much of him but it's so good that you just don't care. it's so much better than you thought it would be, toji makes it so much better than you thought it would be.

♡ you cum before long and he fucks you through it, holding your jaw to keep eye contact with you the entire time, obsessed with the tears threatening to fall from your wet lashes. he slows down as you come down and you think he's mercifully giving you a break when he pulls out, despite your cry of protest that he wants to make his ringtone. then he's picking you up and standing up with you to sit in front of your floor-length mirror with your back to his chest. "don't ya remember, baby? i gotta show you just how pretty you are," he says in your ear as he digs his hands into your hips and ass tight enough that there will definitely be bruises, but he's lining you up and pushing you down on his cock before you can whine about it. you're clawing at his arms and reaching behind you to grab his hair while he keeps sinking you down, and he watches with a salacious grin.

♡ "see, princess, see how pretty you are? bouncin' up and down on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it, you were, weren't you? fuckin' perfect fit. you look so perfect taking my cock, such a pretty girl. prettiest fuckin' girl i've ever seen. no, no, don't look away baby, watch how good you take my dick inside your tiny little pussy. that's it, princess. this pussy is mine now, right, baby? right? yeah, all mine now. gonna ruin you for any other man on the fuckin' planet."

♡ you came again and toji wasn't far behind you after that, practically using you like a toy at this point. you did your best to cling to him, but the only thing you could do in his hold was to watch and feel his fat cock bullying in and out of your pussy. babbles and moans were all you could manage now, and the only thing that would have made toji happier was if he had his phone in his hands to record it. he'd have plenty of chances later, anyways.

♡ "gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy, baby? aww, hah, too cock drunk to speak, huh? did i fuck you dumb already? mm, like you like this a lot, princess. so sweet for me. i'll fill you up with my cum as a reward, how's that sound? ha! your pussy likes that idea! squeezin' me so damn tight, you like that idea, don't you pretty girl? ohh, just be good and take it, just like that baby."

♡ he slams you down all the way on his cock and wraps his arms around you, grinding up into you hard, and you feel your belly get warm and somehow you feel even more full. you go limp against him, closing your eyes and whimpering with every twitch of his hips. it's just the mix of your heavy breathing for a few moments before toji's sitting back up from curling you both forward, looking in the mirror again.

♡ "aww, c'mon baby, you're letting it all leak out," he says, his voice gravelly and a bit heavier than before. when you don't open your eyes fast enough, his hand is in your hair and pulling it to make you look at where his cum is leaking out of you around his cock. and he's still hard.

♡ "guess i'll just have to fill you up again to make up for it, huh, pretty girl?"

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x female reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw stepcest #— lilly writes! ♡

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jjkprncss · 5 months

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PUSSY TALK - SUGURU GETO

CONTENT WARNING: begging, wrist restraints, rough (ish) sex

819 pm Los Angeles, Ca

"s....ugu.. pl...mmmgn" you protested, reaching your hand behind you, trying to push your 6'3 boyfriend off of you. he groaned, leaning his hips farther into yours as he held a firm grasp on your wrist, now holding your hand behind your back.

"I thought you weren't gon' talk to me? you weren't gon' make noise babe? what happened?" he whispered, pressing his thumb into your lower back, forcing your arch up higher. "is it too much for you yn?"

741 pm Los Angeles, Ca

"you're getting on my nerves miss ..." suguru threw his head back, his fingers pinching his nose bridge, irritated by your attitude.

"me? you come home late every night. you don't talk to me, you don't kiss me, you don't even look at me suguru. but I'm the one working your nerves yea ok" you scoffed, placing the dirty dishes into the soap-filled sink.

you and suguru have been having issues for almost three weeks now. you just finished school, leaving you with too much free time on your hands. this wouldn't have been a problem if you didn't choose to move in with your long-term boyfriend, suguru. his loft was only a 10-minute drive from the college you were accepted into, so being able to live with your boyfriend and go to school was a win-win.

lately, he has been working ... very late hours. 6 am to 10 pm, sometimes even past midnight. of course, you tried talking to him about it, but with every attempt, he just blew you off. ever since then, everything he did when he was at home would just irk you. things aren't like they were before.

"I am working. providing for you, keeping a roof over your head, and money in your bank account" suguru stood up, tying his shoulder-length jet-black hair up into a bun. he walked into the kitchen, grabbing hold of the towel in your hand. "I don't hear you complaining then do I?"

"you're an ass!" you snatched the towel back, throwing it at his chest. wiping your hands, you stormed away annoyed at his stupid response. "Im done fucking talking to you, for the rest of the night you wont hear shit from me"

820 pm Los Angeles, Ca

"mmng.." you muffled, stuffing your face into the pillow in front of you, leaving a small smear of brown foundation on the bright pink sheets you two shared. you rolled your eyes, feeling his thick tip ram in between your folds, hitting your cervix.

"thats what I thought ... cmere" he reached over, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you up to his chest. "I hear that pussy talkin' to me though don't I?"

SLAP SLAP SLAP

"pl..pleasughh" your free hand reached back, attempting to do the same push as before. he grabbed it, your wrists now feeling small in the grasp of his one hand, his other still gripped around your neck.

"what you want me to stop?" suguru slowed the pace of his hips, now increasing into long, hard strokes. "that's not what she's telling me. all I hear is you want more" he laughed, whispering in your ear before shoving your head back down into the mattress. "keep that pussy wet for me yn...just like that"

#black reader #black fanfic writer #fem reader #x black reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x black fem reader #jjk smut #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #geto #jjk geto #suguru geto

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a-b-riddle · 2 months

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Part 10

Can't stop thinking about reader realizing she fucked up.

"What?" You asked, unsure if you heard him correctly. "I did stuff for Simon." He opened his mouth slightly before shutting it, almost as if he was afraid to argue with you. He was. "I did things for Simon." You repeated. "I did."

You took pause. Racking your brain for examples to throw in his face. You had always tried to be the best girlfriend. and look where it had gotten you. You were always the one to reach out, to plan dates. The only one to manage your time equally among all of them even if it meant stretching yourself then.

But the more you thought, the more you came up short.

"I definitely treated Simon the same." You defend.

Here lately you had been spending more time with the others than Simon. Every evening was the same without fail. He would call you no later than 9, asking if you were busy. Sometimes you were already out with the others, but in the instances you weren't Simon would ask to come over. An excuse of not being able to sleep.

When he first gave you that excuse, you expected him to be using it as just an excuse to come over and fuck you.

But he didn't.

Not that night. Or the next.

The third time he did fuck you. He was a man, not a saint after all. You weren't sure if it was because he was the last one you got around to being intimate with, but it just felt different. The others were great. Letting you turn your brain off and letting them take control.

Where the others took the reins, Simon guided you. It was more like dancing than fucking. Your bodies working in harmony with one another. He would listen intently to each little moan or staggered breath you took. Wouldn't take his eyes off of your face when he ate your cunt. Wanting to take in every reaction you would give him.

He had created a flow of how to fuck you. A way to ensure he pulled several orgasms from you before you practically passed out from exhaustion. You would try and switch things up with different positions and giving him head, but Simon was a simple man. Once he found a way that worked, he stuck with it. He let you indulge. Spicing things up, but he always made a home in between your thighs at some point.

It had been like that ever since. Over and over again like clock work, he would call. He wouldn't always fuck you. Mostly either one or both of you complaining about a hard day and insisting on just having the company of the other. However, it wasn't until Mere had made a comment on why she hadn't met Simon yet.

It was like finally noticing something on a commute you took everyday. Day in and day out you came across it without every really taking note. How oblivious you had been.

Simon had only came over at night. Although he would bring take out or cook dinner with you, he had never taken you out on a date. Not even so much as a cup of coffee-- tea in his case.

You pressed him about it one night.

You seem pretty busy during the day. Plus, that's when I catch up on sleep was his reasoning and you didn't press him.

Simon had always complained about not being able to sleep. You didn't mind the company. So whenever he called and you were free. That's just how the relationship had been between you two. You both seemed satisfied with the dynamic.

"It was just different with me and Si," you defended. "He didn't need any help from me or ask it." You wanted to say he hadn't been as needy as Johnny, Kyle or John, but kept that opinion to yourself.

"Or did he just not feel like he could ask you?" Kyle's question gave you a moment of pause. Your mouth falling open. Appalled at the suggestion.

"Don't try and turn this around on me." You narrow your eyes at Kyle and his audacity. You were the one who was hurt. You didn't like being the victim, but in this scenario you were. "If Simon had any issue he would have said something."

"Like you did with us?" He asked. His boldness growing. "And I'm not trying to turn this around on you, I'm just saying that there everyone had their issues in not communicating on what was really going on. I should have told you how I felt, they should have told you and you should have told us."

"Oh," you said, head tilting to the side and condescension lacing your tone. "So when was I supposed to do that? When John was snapping at me or Johnny had his tongue buried inside of me. God knows you weren't exactly answering my texts and Simon had been the only one I didn't have issues with."

"But you still came to him about us." Outed was the only word fitting enough to describe how you felt. You had tried to keep your relationships separate as well as the issues and frustrations that came along with it.

"He told you?" You asked, feeling embarrassed and, somewhat, fearful about what exactly Simon had said to them. The asshole was just so easy to talk to. For someone who was so reserved, you found it second nature to open up to him. "When?"

"Any chance he got." Kyle huffed. The confession shocked you. If anything, yes, maybe John would have been the one to tell the boys to fall in line if he knew they were falling short, but Simon? The man who couldn't ever be bothered to plan a date?

"I don't understand." You shook your head as if that would jumble the pieces of your thoughts well enough that they would somehow fit together; painting you a clearer picture. "Simon... he..." His words echoed in your mind. Even now they still haunted you. A ghost reminding you of your naivety. "He said some really shitty things."

"I know." Kyle's face fell and you could almost see the anger flicker in his eyes before it extinguished into something more solemn. "He knew he was the last thing holding you to us. Severing that tie would make it easier for you to lease."

"Losing you wasn't easy." You replied through clenched teeth. Tears prickling your eyes. "Is that what you think? That this has been easy for me?"

"I don't think it's been easy, but I know it's the truth." A small part of you knew he was right. And you hated him for it. "Simon was the only one putting in any effort on our end. He was the only reason we didn't lose you sooner." He took your hand in his. Rubbing small circles in your palm. Something he did to soothe. Funny how now the gesture was breaking your heart. "If it's any consolation, he didn't mean what he said."

You scoff, tears now falling as you pull your hand from him. "Just because he didn't mean it, doesn't mean it's not true." You cross your arms over your chest. No longer giving him the chance to try and reach out again.

"Do you think any of us actually felt that way about you?" Kyle asked, his tone a mixture between disbelief and sorrow. He knew Simon's words were meant to cut, but their actions had made his declaration deem true.

"You didn't exactly prove otherwise." The confirmation causes him to falter, not knowing what to say, how to comfort you. It was like somewhere along the way he had lost the knowledge on how to treat you, how to care for you. It was like he didn't know you, but still loved you all the same.

It was killing him.

After several uncomfortable moments of silence, he spoke. "I know John told you we were all on our own in terms of fixing this. But I want you to know that we all regret how we went about things. How we treated you was unacceptable and there is truly no excuse. I can only hope that you let us have the privilege in at least trying to make it up to you."

You let out a breath. Your chest aching as a sob threatens to bubble to the surface.

You swallow it down.

"So I take it then Johnny is taking the same route as Simon?" You couldn't blame him. You had put the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Fucking and leaving him like that... Not to mention all the details Kyle gave you of the aftermath. No doubt Johnny would feel like being forgiven was pointless by now.

"Johnny is chomping at the fuckin' bit." He laughed. "If Simon and Price weren't keeping a leash on him right now he'd be here right now and I don't think we could get him out of here a second time."

"Well three out of four then." You sighed. "I just can't believe it got this far." Shaking your head, you leaned back against the cushions "I mean, I get that all of you had your own lives, families and stuff going on... But even then, I can't believe Simon found it so easy to say those things. Looking back, yeah, I wasn't girlfriend of the year, but I wasn't a bad girlfriend."

Silence.

"Kyle?" He bit his lips. He wanted to say something. "Kyle." You pressed. "Out with it."

"You don't need to bring it up."

"Fine." You said, but technically didn't promise anything.

"And it's not your fault for forgetting." Your patience was growing thin. Your emotional battery was low and even with a good nights rest you knew it would take a while before it recharged. "Fuck," Kyle rubbed his face, contemplating best how to tell you. "The night you called Simon..." he explained. "It was April 25th."

You waited, not completing grasping what he was trying to say.

April 25th...

What was so damn special about April 25th that made Simon so fucking angry? You didn't buy the whole 'letting you go thing', so it had to be something

Why that day?

April 25th: not an anniversary or a birthday. Not Easter or Christmas. Simon really didn't celebrate Christmas given what happened to Tommy, Beth and Joseph.

Joseph...

Fuck. Joseph.

Your throat felt fight.

What had you done?

He probably just got home from the cemetery when you called to cry about Johnny. Fuck.

Joseph's birthday.

Simon was a man that didn't do a lot of sentimental things. But every year, on Joseph's birthday he would visit his nephew's plot with a toy. You didn't know what he said or how long he stayed but he indulged you once. Telling you he just went, sat by with the toy next to the headstone for a bit before leaving.

Simon was reliving one of the happiest days of his life that was now tainted. And you complained about Johnny leaving after fucking you.

"Oh my God." You drew out shakily. Kyle could see the tears beginning to form. Horror manifesting in your eyes. "What the fuck?"

"You didn't know." He tried to soothe as if that were some sort of excuse.

"I forgot." Confessing it out loud felt like a spike going straight through your chest. "How the fuck did I forget?" Kyle didn't know what else to do. Fuck whatever awkwardness and boundaries you would set before fully accepting him back, he pulled you to his chest, allowing you to sob.

You weren't sure how long you had sat there. Kyle's arms enveloping you as you released it all. Eventually you did subside. His shirt marked with evidence of your tears and snot.

"No wonder he fucking hates me." You said it so softly, so broken, Kyle's heart broke for you.

"Simon doesn't hate you." His attempt of soothing you was admirable, but you knew it wasn't true. How could someone not hate another person after that? Forgetting the birthday of your brutally murdered nephew to call and bitch about not getting cuddled after sex. "If he did, he wouldn't have made sure you got home okay after your date. And the guy at the club-"

"He told you about that?" You shouldn't have been shocked. After all John knew.

"Only after he asked to standby in case bail was needed." He tried to joke. "The point is, there is coming back from this." Taking his thumbs, he brushed away the stray tears that hadn't made it to his shirt. "For all of us."

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #angst #grovel #angst with a happy ending #can’t stop thinking about

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