#(which is why I stick around. for my Chance.
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This. This is why I'm going to kill myself. I have been unemployed for 17 months. I can't get a fucking INTERVIEW. In 2021 freshly graduated from a four month data analysis boot camp, I had multiple interviews a week and a job in like 6 weeks, maybe 2 months. Now, with 2 years of work experience under my belt, I literally have had one phone screener and one interview. In seventeen months. I have reworked my resume repeatedly. I have spent around two grand on various resume templates and scan your resume to check how AI sees it and linkedin premium and buy my guide to the perfect work for yourself job. I'm disabled and can't do retail or food service, and the two different office job categories I am qualified for and capable of AREN'T FUCKING HIRING.
I'm being evicted. I'm desperately trying to make my mother's two year abandoned two *decade* hoarded house even remotely livable. I'm only going to have a working fridge because of my ex husband, the toilet has to be flushed with a bucket, at least the hot water gets hot so I'll be able to shower even if I don't want to think about what that weird film on the hot water might *be*, the kitchen sink is unusable due to a leak, the bathroom sink leaks but that I can at least probably fix, the stove/microwave/washer/dryer/dishwasher is dead, at least the heat works, but I can't afford to *pay* the electric or gas or water. I got approved for food stamps but there's no working way to cook anything in the house and if the electric gets cut off my inexpensive new fridge won't do me any good either. To get my car running so I could even have a chance of getting moved before I get evicted, I had to agree to give my ex the car after I finish moving. (it used to be ours, it became informally mine after we split, I didn't have the money to get it running again but my ex did, he's not a bad guy we're just bad together.)
Yes, I could survive this, but *why*. After a year and a half with no job, I'm not going to get hired. I don't have the spoons to job hunt *and* volunteer or run a side hustle, which are the recommended ways to fill a resume gap. I have tried so many side hustles and I just can't make one work. I did for more than a decade from the end of high school thru and past college, but I am older and chronic pain-ier and it's just not working.
The world is a beautiful place but it's not beautiful enough to make this shit worth it. Capitalism is designed to kill the poor and I'm not going to be an exception. I'm going to keep making choices like things will somehow work out, even when I know they won't, at least until I run out of choices, but I refuse to die cold. I'm not sticking around once the heat is going to stop working.
it's easier to apply for jobs than ever! so what if you lost your insurance, anyone can get a job these days, even without meds. everyone is hiring! there's a "good employee" shortage!
well you just need to revamp your resume, here's a paid app subscription that can read it for you. rewrite the cover letter they won't read. google jobs in my area and then scrawl through Monster/Indeed/worbly. did you want to save the search? this was posted 98 days ago. over 1 billion applicants! this position is trending.
jobs i actively like doing and get paid for. your search returned no results. easy-apply with HireSpin! easy apply with SparkFire! easy apply with PenisFlash! with a few short clicks, get your information stolen.
watch out! the first 98 links on google are actually scams! they're false postings. oopsie. that business isn't even hiring. that other one is closed permanently. find one that looks halfway legit, google the company and the word "careers". go to their page. scroll past brightly-lit diversity stock photo JOIN US white sans serif. we are a unique, fresh, client-focused stock value capitalism. we are committed to excellence and selling your soul on ebay. we are DRIVEN with POWER to INNOVATE our greed. yippee! our company has big values of divisive decision making, sucking our dicks, and hating work-life balances. our values are to piss in your mouth. sign here and tell us if you have gender issues so we can get ahead of the sexual harassment claim. are you hispanic although let's be real we threw out the resume when we saw your last name.
sign up to LinkHub to access updates from this company. make a HirePlus account to apply. download the PoundLink app. your account has been created, click the link we sent you in 15 minutes. upload that resume. we didn't read the resume, manually fill in the lines now. what is your expected pay grade. oh actually we want hungry people, not people driven by a salary. cut a zero off that number, buddy, this is about opportunity, and we need to be thrifty. highest level of education. autofill is glitching. here is an AI generated set of questions. what is your favorite part of our sexy, sexy company. how do you resolve conflict. will you get our company logo tattooed on your person. warning: while our CEO is guilty of wage theft, we will absolutely refuse to hire a nonviolent felon.
thank you for your interest at WEEBLIX. we actually already filled this position internally. we actually never had that posting. we actually needed you to have 9 years of experience and since you have 10 years we think it might be too many? we'll be texting you. we'll email you. we'll keep your resume. definitely absolutely we won't just completely ignore you. look at your phone, there's already a spam text from Bethany@stealyouridentity. they're hiring!
wait, did you get an interview? well that's special, aren't you lucky. out of 910 jobs you applied to, one answered, finally. and funny story! actually the position isn't exactly as advertised, we are looking for someone curious and dedicated. it's sort of more managerial. no, the pay doesn't change - you won't have any leadership title. now take this 90 minute assessment. in order to be a dog groomer, we need you to explain cell biology. in order to be a copyeditor, write a tiny dissertation about the dwindling supply of helium on the planet. answer our riddles three. great job! we just need to push this up to Tracy in HR who will send it to Rodney who is actually in charge. and then of course it's jay's decision and then greg will need to see you naked and if you survive you'll be given a drug test and a full anal examination.
and of course you'll be hungry this whole time, aren't you, months and months of the same shit. months of no insurance, no meds, no funding, barely able to afford the internet and the phone and the rent - all things you need in order to even apply for our thing. but do it again! do it again and again and again, until you flip inside out and turn into a being of pure dread!
you're not hired yet because you're lazy. there's over one million AI-generated hallucinated jobs in your area. don't worry. with zipruiter, hiring and firing is easier than ever. sign up. stay on-call.
in the meantime, little peon - why don't you just fucking suffer.
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I was thinking to myself recently how wild it would be if this fandom was big enough to do a kinktober. Alas...
#me rambling#or like at least one of those week things for a ship or a specific show#maybe that's more attainable#also i say any of this as if i am a known smut writer when i definitely am not 😂#i would like to be i'm just not confident#but there could be gen options too#it's just funny to me because the source material here is so out there it kinda lends itself to kinks right?#i mean there is canonical mpreg in tyo#eddie is sticking a whole sofa up richie's arse in one of the bottom lives#alan b'stard is a canonical sadist in bed#and out of it too#there's other examples i can't think of now#i also just constantly think about fandom events i'm afraid#idk why my brain is like this i just constantly wanna set up creative events but unfortunately for the nichest things 😂#the rik and ade fest is great but only runs once a year#sometimes we do scumbag secret sanata#but those things both depend on collaboration to a certain extent in that one person is creating for another#which is great!#but what i'm proposing here is free reign to just take a vague prompt and make something for it#fic art edits literally whatever#to be posted here or ao3 or instagram or wherever else#because it could be fun and we could all hype each other up#and sometimes creativity needs a nudge#or just the chance to break from a bigger project for something short#i am waffling a lot i'm sure i'm gonna run out of tags soon but let me know if this appeals to you#even by an anon if you're shy!#this is very vague i'm not even sure what the specific event would be centred around#like should it be for a single show or everything#maybe i will open a discussion? probably not but maybe 😂#rik mayall
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Therapy note like: I think I found the reason for my suicidal ideation. Obviously death is preferable to torture. And there doesn’t go a week I am not Psychologically Tortured by the World Around Me. Doesn’t it just MAKE SENSE to WANT TO DIE.
#therapy.#suicidal ideation/#(I’m not feelin it rn but I’m realizing the SENSE of it hhhfhff#(nobodies Crazy for wanting to end it all. they just Shouldn’t. cause there’s more to it than escape.#(there’s people hurt immediately by the action. and people hurt eventually by your lack of presence.#(blah blah baby can’t cure cancer if it’s death— ur the baby! nobody knows what u coulda done if given the chance!#(which is why I stick around. for my Chance.
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well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so
let's talk!
i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow
so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)
but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out
basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol
i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension
a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.
i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.
don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer
there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball
i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done
i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep
but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself
so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project
tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point
the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed
they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess
i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me
a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me
and that! is when i finally snapped!
i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately
i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team
and the real kicker?
august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video
and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly
it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing
but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion
i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people
tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol
(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)
this shit was truly
so ass.
but i'm moving past it now
but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!
and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')
happy new year!
#getting personelle#reflecting about some shit#thank u for reading or not reading just thanks for sticking around ig
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How Do I Make My Fictional Gypsies Not Racist?
(Or, "You can't, sorry, but…")
You want to include some Gypsies in your fantasy setting. Or, you need someone for your main characters to meet, who is an outsider in the eyes of the locals, but who already lives here. Or you need a culture in conflict with your settled people, or who have just arrived out of nowhere. Or, you just like the idea of campfires in the forest and voices raised in song. And you’re about to step straight into a muckpile of cliches and, accidentally, write something racist.
(In this, I am mostly using Gypsy as an endonym of Romany people, who are a subset of the Romani people, alongside Roma, Sinti, Gitano, Romanisael, Kale, etc, but also in the theory of "Gypsying" as proposed by Lex and Percy H, where Romani people are treated with a particular mix of orientalism, criminalisation, racialisation, and othering, that creates "The Gypsy" out of both nomadic peoples as a whole and people with Romani heritage and racialised physical features, languages, and cultural markers)
Enough of my friends play TTRPGs or write fantasy stories that this question comes up a lot - They mention Dungeons and Dragons’ Curse Of Strahd, World Of Darkness’s Gypsies, World Of Darkness’s Ravnos, World of Darkness’s Silent Striders… And they roll their eyes and say “These are all terrible! But how can I do it, you know, without it being racist?”
And their eyes are big and sad and ever so hopeful that I will tell them the secret of how to take the Roma of the real world and place them in a fictional one, whilst both appealing to gorjer stereotypes of Gypsies and not adding to the weight of stereotyping that already crushes us. So, disappointingly, there is no secret.
Gypsies, like every other real-world culture, exist as we do today because of interactions with cultures and geography around us: The living waggon, probably the archetypal thing which gorjer writers want to include in their portrayals of nomads, is a relatively modern invention - Most likely French, and adopted from French Showmen by Romanies, who brought it to Britain. So already, that’s a tradition that only spans a small amount of the time that Gypsies have existed, and only a small number of the full breadth of Romani ways of living. But the reasons that the waggon is what it is are based on the real world - The wheels are tall and iron-rimmed, because although you expect to travel on cobbled, tarmac, or packed-earth roads and for comparatively short distances, it wasn’t rare to have to ford a river in Britain in the late nineteenth century, on country roads. They were drawn by a single horse, and the shape of that horse was determined by a mixture of local breeds - Welsh cobs, fell ponies, various draft breeds - as well as by the aesthetic tastes of the breeders. The stove inside is on the left, so that as you move down a British road, the chimney sticks up into the part where there will be the least overhanging branches, to reduce the chance of hitting it.
So taking a fictional setting that looks like (for example) thirteenth century China (with dragons), and placing a nineteenth century Romanichal family in it will inevitably result in some racist assumptions being made, as the answer to “Why does this culture do this?” becomes “They just do it because I want them to” rather than having a consistent internal logic.
Some stereotypes will always follow nomads - They appear in different forms in different cultures, but they always arise from the settled people's same fears: That the nomads don't share their values, and are fundamentally strangers. Common ones are that we have a secret language to fool outsiders with, that we steal children and disguise them as our own, that our sexual morals are shocking (This one has flipped in the last half century - From the Gypsy Lore Society's talk of the lascivious Romni seductress who will lie with a strange man for a night after a 'gypsy wedding', to today's frenzied talk of 'grabbing' and sexually-conservative early marriages to ensure virginity), that we are supernatural in some way, and that we are more like animals than humans. These are tropes where if you want to address them, you will have to address them as libels - there is no way to casually write a baby-stealing, magical succubus nomad without it backfiring onto real life Roma. (The kind of person who has the skills to write these tropes well, is not the kind of person who is reading this guide.)
It’s too easy to say a list of prescriptive “Do nots”, which might stop you from making the most common pitfalls, but which can end up with your nomads being slightly flat as you dance around the topics that you’re trying to avoid, rather than being a rich culture that feels real in your world.
So, here are some questions to ask, to create your nomadic people, so that they will have a distinctive culture of their own that may (or may not) look anything like real-world Romani people: These aren't the only questions, but they're good starting points to think about before you make anything concrete, and they will hopefully inspire you to ask MORE questions.
First - Why are they nomadic? Nobody moves just to feel the wind in their hair and see a new horizon every morning, no matter what the inspirational poster says. Are they transhumant herders who pay a small rent to graze their flock on the local lord’s land? Are they following migratory herds across common land, being moved on by the cycle of the seasons and the movement of their animals? Are they seasonal workers who follow man-made cycles of labour: Harvests, fairs, religious festivals? Are they refugees fleeing a recent conflict, who will pass through this area and never return? Are they on a regular pilgrimage? Do they travel within the same area predictably, or is their movement governed by something that is hard to predict? How do they see their own movements - Do they think of themselves as being pushed along by some external force, or as choosing to travel? Will they work for and with outsiders, either as employees or as partners, or do they aim to be fully self-sufficient? What other jobs do they do - Their whole society won’t all be involved in one industry, what do their children, elderly, disabled people do with their time, and is it “work”?
If they are totally isolationist - How do they produce the things which need a complex supply chain or large facilities to make? How do they view artefacts from outsiders which come into their possession - Things which have been made with technology that they can’t produce for themselves? (This doesn’t need to be anything about quality of goods, only about complexity - A violin can be made by one artisan working with hand tools, wood, gut and shellac, but an accordion needs presses to make reeds, metal lathes to make screws, complex organic chemistry to make celluloid lacquer, vulcanised rubber, and a thousand other components)
How do they feel about outsiders? How do they buy and sell to outsiders? If it’s seen as taboo, do they do it anyway? Do they speak the same language as the nearby settled people (With what kind of fluency, or bilingualism, or dialect)? Do they intermarry, and how is that viewed when it happens? What stories does this culture tell about why they are a separate people to the nearby settled people? Are those stories true? Do they have a notional “homeland” and do they intend to go there? If so, is it a real place?
What gorjers think of as classic "Gipsy music" is a product of our real-world situation. Guitar from Spain, accordions from the Soviet Union (Which needed modern machining and factories to produce and make accessible to people who weren't rich- and which were in turn encouraged by Soviet authorities preferring the standardised and modern accordion to the folk traditions of the indigenous peoples within the bloc), brass from Western classical traditions, via Balkan folk music, influences from klezmer and jazz and bhangra and polka and our own music traditions (And we influence them too). What are your people's musical influences? Do they make their own instruments or buy them from settled people? How many musical traditions do they have, and what are they all for (Weddings, funerals, storytelling, campfire songs, entertainment...)? Do they have professional musicians, and if so, how do those musicians earn money? Are instrument makers professionals, or do they use improvised and easy-to-make instruments like willow whistles, spoons, washtubs, etc? (Of course the answer can be "A bit of both")
If you're thinking about jobs - How do they work? Are they employed by settled people (How do they feel about them?) Are they self employed but providing services/goods to the settled people? Are they mostly avoidant of settled people other than to buy things that they can't produce themselves? Are they totally isolationist? Is their work mostly subsistence, or do they create a surplus to sell to outsiders? How do they interact with other workers nearby? Who works, and how- Are there 'family businesses', apprentices, children with part time work? Is it considered 'a job' or just part of their way of life? How do they educate their children, and is that considered 'work'? How old are children when they are considered adult, and what markers confer adulthood? What is considered a rite of passage?
When they travel, how do they do it? Do they share ownership of beasts of burden, or each individually have "their horse"? Do families stick together or try to spread out? How does a child begin to live apart from their family, or start their own family? Are their dwellings something that they take with them, or do they find places to stay or build temporary shelter with disposable material? Who shares a dwelling and why? What do they do for privacy, and what do they think privacy is for?
If you're thinking about food - Do they hunt? Herd? Forage? Buy or trade from settled people? Do they travel between places where they've sown crops or managed wildstock in previous years, so that when they arrive there is food already seeded in the landscape? How do they feel about buying food from settled people, and is that common? If it's frowned upon - How much do people do it anyway? How do they preserve food for winter? How much food do they carry with them, compared to how much they plan to buy or forage at their destinations? How is food shared- Communal stores, personal ownership?
Why are they a "separate people" to the settled people? What is their creation myth? Why do they believe that they are nomadic and the other people are settled, and is it correct? Do they look different? Are there legal restrictions on them settling? Are there legal restrictions on them intermixing? Are there cultural reasons why they are a separate people? Where did those reasons come from? How long have they been travelling? How long do they think they've been travelling? Where did they come from? Do they travel mostly within one area and return to the same sites predictably, or are they going to move on again soon and never come back?
And then within that - What about the members of their society who are "unusual" in some way: How does their society treat disabled people? (are they considered disabled, do they have that distinction and how is it applied?) How does their society treat LGBT+ people? What happens to someone who doesn't get married and has no children? What happens to someone who 'leaves'? What happens to young widows and widowers? What happens if someone just 'can't fit in'? What happens to someone who is adopted or married in? What happens to people who are mixed race, and in a fantasy setting to people who are mixed species? What is taboo to them and what will they find shocking if they leave? What is society's attitude to 'difference' of various kinds?
Basically, if you build your nomads from the ground-up, rather than starting from the idea of "I want Gypsies/Buryats/Berbers/Minceiri but with the numbers filed off and not offensive" you can end up with a rich, unique nomadic culture who make sense in your world and don't end up making a rod for the back of real-world cultures.
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You reap what you sow
Yandere farm brothers x f.reader
—————-
Just your typical luck, your car had suddenly broken down in the middle of nowhere. What will you do now? You can’t stay there, there’s no food or water available. Luckily, you hadn’t run out of recourses just yet but it was very close to being gone.
You stepped out of the car and went around it, staring it down with waves of irritation rolling off you. You tried coming up with a plan. The next stop was miles away and it was nothing but a daydream that you’d be able to make it there on foot.
Right as you were about to give up and let the animals take you, the sound of wheels on gravel caught your attention. Turning around, you saw another car speeding towards you. Yes! You were saved! You waved at the person in the car and luckily enough it stopped. ‘I’m gonna pray it’s not Michael Meyers lost cousin or something.’
The door to the passenger side opened and you spotted a man sitting behind the wheel. He was young, around your age, probably a little older perhaps. He had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. You instantly noticed a scar below his left eye as you glanced at his face. You had to admit, he was very handsome; in a rugged type of way. You couldn’t help but eye how his plain shirt hugged all the muscles on his body. You mentally slapped yourself, ‘Geez (Y/n), you’re here to ask for help not ogle him like the last piece of cake at the party!’
“Your car broke down?” He asked, looking at the worthless piece of junk that had decided to betray you just minutes ago.
“Yeah, it did.” You scratched the back of your head in slight embarrassment. “I couldn’t trouble you for a ride, could I?” He was quiet for a moment, in which you hastily added, “Not for long! Just so I can get proper help from a mechanic. I won’t be a bother I promise.”
The man nodded. “Alright then, hop in.”
Your eyes lit up at his response. You gladly took a seat beside him and thanked him again for his help. “Thank you so much. You’re literally saving my life.”
He nodded once more. Guess he wasn’t much of a talker. Well not that it mattered much. You’d only stick around until you got to a town and found someone who could fix your vehicle. You didn’t have to be all buddy-buddy with each other. You only had to be happy he didn’t seem to want to kill you and hang your organs like Christmas ornaments. The chance of you meeting again was down to basically zero.
Or that’s what you thought, but life has a funny way of messing with you. It must have a grudge against you or else you wouldn’t be seated in the same position you were previously, only it being about 3 hours later. The drive to the nearest town was long(you definitely wouldn’t have made it by walking) and when you got there, you found out the one mechanic they had was out of town.
You thought you were going to have to spend the night in a bush, but you were pleasantly surprised to have your muscular helper offer a nights stay at his farm. You were grateful(once more) and also confused. Why was he being so nice to you when he didn’t have any reason to? It didn’t make sense. The two of you had just met, plus that you’ve only spoken a number of times and none of the conversations were noteworthy.
It was after you accepted you got to know his name, Weston. It fit him quite well, you thought. He told you there was a spare room you could use. It would be further away from his, to offer you some sort of privacy. He also mentioned there was one other person living on the farm, his younger brother. If he annoyed you, you could just tell him off, Weston said to you.
Your butt was sore from all the sitting, both in your own car but also from this little trip. The sky darkened and the sun had nearly completely disappeared when you finally arrived at the farm. It looked like you imagined. There was a large house which you assumed was the main house. Behind it was a big, red barn. You thought you could hear the faint sounds of animals.
Climbing out of the car, you glanced expectantly at your host, waiting for his initiative. You didn’t want to be rude and march right up to the house. As you were waiting, another figure came into view. He was much like his older brother, with brown hair and eyes to match. He was smiling at the both of you, although you caught a slight suspicion towards you.
“Who’s the new kid?” He asked his sibling, who gave him a rundown of what’s happened. You were a bit annoyed at how he called you ‘kid’, you were very much a grown person. And he’s one to talk, you were sure he was younger than you, even through all that brawn. He wasn’t as tall as Weston but he was no joke either. The younger brother looked at you with sympathy, “Really? Well that’s unfortunate. What’re you gonna do now that the mechanic’s gone- since you need him I’m guessing you don’t exactly know how to fix cars.”
You sighed, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll come up with something tomorrow. I’m too tired from all the driving and thinking.”
“Alright, I get it. I’m Lucas by the way.”
You shook his hand. “(Y/n), and thank you for having me. You’re really saving me here.”
“Haha, well Weston likes to pretend he’s heartless, but he’s really just a giant teddy bear.” Lucas said and smirked as he received a glare from the ‘teddy bear’.
“Come in (Y/n), I’ll show you your room.” Weston led you into the house.
Right as you stepped over the threshold, you felt a slight chill. Something felt wrong. You turned around to see Lucas’ beaming face. He tilted his head in confusion.
“Everything good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You’d gotten the impression that he’s a chill guy, but now you started wondering if you’d made the wrong choice.
“N-no, everything’s great!”
There was no turning back now, you thought as you descended deeper into the house.
It was unfortunate that every time you followed one of the brothers into town again, for supplies and other things, the mechanic was never there. Sadly it seemed like his vacation wasn’t over yet which meant no way home for you. However, you didn’t have it so bad. The brothers had been kind enough to let you keep staying with them at their farm.
Honestly it was pretty good there. Sure, it wasn’t what you were used to, but some change of scenery was good for you. Not wanting to appear lazy, you helped them to the best of your ability around the farm. You couldn’t lift heavy things like they could even if you really put your back into it, and you certainly didn’t trust yourself to milk the cows; something you could do was cook! It’d become a routine for them to do their work during the day and you’d make them lunch and then dinner in the evenings. You’d never seen yourself as a homemaker, though this was kind of fun. Maybe it was the heat poking your brain or it was that you genuinely enjoyed their company.
Besides, it was really nice looking out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of them at work. You weren’t proud, but it did something for you. The way droplets of sweat ran down their backs, not in a gross way though, in an appealing manner. During the instances they took of their shirts, you got a front row seat to see the muscles in action. You now knew Lucas had stone-hard abs and that Weston had a very nice back.
Despite the fun in getting to know both of them individually, there were some things you couldn’t deny making you uncomfortable. For example, there was the curfew. That one had a good explanation; there were wild animals sometimes running around and they didn’t want you to get hurt. That made perfect sense! Though you couldn’t shake off that one time you couldn’t sleep and had gone outside on the porch for some air. You were just relaxing and looking at the bright stars when shouting woke you up more than your insomnia. Lucas had come rushing towards you in panic. He’d frantically asked you what you were doing up. You responded honestly and he slowly calmed down. He said you shouldn’t go out by yourself anymore. If you can’t sleep you can see the stars perfectly from the living room window, or better yet, you can come to one of their rooms instead.
Then there was the room furthest back in the barn. Although it could be excused as well, they told you that’s where they slaughtered the animals. But you could swear you heard something from inside, something that doesn’t sound at all like a cow, a pig or a chicken. Suspicion arose in you, but fear held you in a chokehold and prevented you from investigating. However nice they were to you, there was no way you’d risk pissing them off. Especially since the mechanic still wasn’t back which meant you had no way to escape, if it would be necessary.
Lucas had been right, Weston wasn’t as scary as he seemed in the beginning. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges but he had sweet moments too. Once during one of your little adventures on the porch, Weston had suddenly appeared by your side, giving you a scare. He apologised and asked why you were out. You were worried he would get angry considering you’d just recently had the ‘no more going out’- conversation with Lucas. To your surprise he chuckled at your nervous demeanor and did not reprimand you. He told you that in his opinion, Lucas was too paranoid for his own good and sometimes didn’t know when to stop. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though you probably shouldn’t wander off the porch after dark. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterwards he declared he’s going to bed before wrapping you in a blanket, you didn’t even notice he had it with him until he turned you into a burrito. He was very sweet in his own way, you realised. From then on you paid more attention to the affection he undoubtedly showed. Sometimes it was hard to see, but it was definitely there.
Lucas on the other hand was more open with his affection; pulling you into hugs, asking about your day, petting your hair. All these thing he did daily. He, too, was incredibly sweet. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that him and Weston shared DNA. They were so different. The only thing confirming their relation was little things how their eyes lit up the same way or how their smiles were similar(if you were fortunate enough to witness Weston smiling, that is). Lucas also had a protective streak. He constantly worried over your safety and wellbeing. Which was kind of nice, when he wasn’t nagging you about it every five seconds.
You better listen to them. It’s all for your best. Because if you don’t, you might end up walking into the barn, and then you might end up finding the remains of the mechanic you’ve been so desperately looking for. And that wouldn’t be very good now, would it?
#yandere imagines#kyseya oc#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#kyseya’s dungeon#yandere#possesive#yandere farmer#yandere farmers#the Callaghan brothers#Lucas Callaghan oc#Weston Callaghan oc#Yandere farm brothers#yandere x reader x yandere#yandere brothers#Yandere brothers x reader#female reader
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Hello! I've read you're shadow fanfiction and it's just absolutely amazing!! Can I request a shadow x teen reader(platonic) where the reader stays with robotnik and stone but isn't related like they just decided to keep them because they were useful and when shadow comes around he grows an attachment to them and constantly wants to protect them
Please and thank you!!!!
Guardian Hedgehog
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x teen!reader (platonic)
warnings: slight sonic 3 spoilers
summary: Shadow finds himself getting attached again, but maybe this outcome will be different from the rest
a/n: thank you so much for being patient and enjoying my other stories! Here’s your request, I hope you enjoy it as much as the others!
When you first met Shadow, he quite literally jump scared you. You were walking down the dark corridor with Knuckles the Echidna, he was letting out a nervous mumble about supposedly not being scared but you could tell he was from his shaking. You didn’t blame him though, this place was creepy that’s for sure, you wanted to go with Robotnik or Stone but Sonic had very little faith in you three so instead you had to pair up with Knuckles.
As you walked with him, your arms crossed you let out an annoyed groan, sure this place was creepy and weird and actually somewhat scary…but nothing would get you, so why make a big fuss anyway.
“Boo”
And that is how you met Shadow. By getting unintentionally scared and jumping behind the smaller echidna.
From that point forward it seemed as if he wanted to just stick by your side, which you didn’t really mind. It was actually quite funny; when Robotnik would reprimanded you for messing up a task, Shadow would give him a mean glare, which happened a lot in the short amount of time he was with you.
Even Gerald noticed it, although he didn’t say anything about it. It was you and Shadow’s little thing, like he was your little guardian.
Currently you were in London, inside The Crab, watching the novela on the T.V.
“Gabriela should kill them both, she’s not a prize to be won,” Shadow grumbled, his focus on the show in front of him. You let out a small nod, not turning back to look at him, disgustingly engrossed in the show.
Stone only let out a chuckle, telling Shadow not to be so negative before he called out to you, “Hey, could you slice up these avocados for me while I use the mortar to grind them?”
You gave a quick glance back before standing, eyes lingering back to the show every once and while. Shadow watched the interaction subconsciously moving a bit closer to where you were.
As you stood next to Stone on the counter you weren’t paying as much attention to the knife in your hand as you should’ve as you suddenly cut the tip of your index finger.
“Ah shoot,” you hissed out, dropping both the knife and the avocado in your hand onto the counter. Within a second Shadow had immediately teleported to your side, his head raised to get a look at what happened to you.
Stone also turned, putting down his bowl and taking a look, “Just a small cut don’t be so over dramatic,” he sarcastically said.
“If it were the Dr you’d probably already call an ambulance…” you replied with a snarky tone, teasing him a bit. He gave you a short glance before grabbing a first aid kit and handing it to you.
Shadow watched you the entire time, his face as stoic as ever, but his moves precise. He would check the cut then your body language seeing if you were in anytime of pain. Honestly it was a bit of an over exaggeration on his part but he felt the need to protect you and in that moment he sensed it was like he failed you.
As you took the first aid kit you turned over to Shadow, before you even got the chance to open it he’d already taken it from you, “What are you doing?” You questioned him.
“Fixing your cut,” he plainly replied.
“Awe you’re like an angel sent from above!”
“Don’t call me that.”
You chuckled before sitting down on the ground so Shadow had an easier time helping you. Shadow didn’t want to admit it but he found your banter with him endearing and tolerable compared with most others.
As you sat there, you watched Shadow disinfect the cut, drying it once he was done.
“You’re good at that, have you done this before?” You asked him, watching as he grabbed one of the kiddy bandaids in the kit.
“I have experience,” was all he said, not feeling the need to go into detail, most of his focus currently on making sure your cut was secure.
Slowly he unwrapped your bandaid, Patrick the Starfish was the one you got, they were all little kid bandaids since you were in charge of making sure all the first aid kits were packed.
You watched as he put it around your finger, his eyes very focused on the task at hand. Quietly he gave a curt nod once he was done, signaling that you could get up now.
As you stood up you took a look at your bandaid, you gave a small smile, “Thanks Shadow,” you quietly said, patting the hedgehog on the head.
He didn’t tell you anything, his job was done, you were okay now and he could relax.
Shadow wouldn’t do what he had just done for you for most people, but even he knew it was a little different when it came to you. The longer he’d been around you, the harder it was to detach himself, in fact, he’d found himself growing more attached.
Maybe it was okay for him to finally get attached again, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad this time. Everything would be alright.
#Sonic 3#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sonic 3 x reader#sonic movie 3#shadow the hedgehog x reader#x reader#sonic movie universe#Sonic#Shadow#shadow x reader
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Sharing with you because your dad series is my favorite dad gojo series.
I saw this commercial for some medication but in the background there was this dad winning a fair game to get their kid a toy. Satoru energy <3
claw machine — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: this took so much time and I STILL hate how it turned out; i am so sorry but i can't pour anymore energy into this </3 pls lets forget about it
“papa, that one please!”
satoru glances down at his son with a playful smirk, “only that one?”
your son’s face twists in thought, his tiny brows furrowing in confusion, “what do you mean?”
satoru crouches down to meet his son’s gaze, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “I mean, I could get you a loooot more, you know.”
s/n shakes his head resolutely, “don’t wanna.”
satoru’s eyes widen slightly, and he tilts his head, “really? why not?”
s/n shifts his gaze to his feet, his voice small and earnest. “mama said she wanted a new plushie, and I wanted to get her one, but…” he looks up at satoru, his voice tinged with sadness, “I can’t reach the joystick.”
satoru smiles. he lets out a gentle chuckle, his hand reaching out to pat s/n’s head reassuringly. “that’s quite the predicament,” he says hums. “how about I lift you up so you can try and win it for her?”
your son’s eyes light up but then dim, as he frowns, “and if I don’t?”
satoru’s laughter is warm and rich as he places his hands on s/n’s shoulders. “then I’ll win it for you, and you can tell mommy that you got it for her, okay?”
s/n’s face beams with happiness, and he wraps his little arms around satoru’s leg in a grateful hug. “thank you, daddy!”
satoru’s heart swells with pride as he scoops your son up with ease, his strong arms cradling him securely. “let’s get that plushie!” he declares with a grin.
"yesss!!"
as they approach the claw machine, satoru’s strides are confident, each step resonating with purpose. satoru carefully sets s/n down in front of the machine, adjusting the controls so he can reach them.
“hold on tight,” satoru quips. from his elevated position, s/n lets out an excited squeal, his voice brimming with excitement, “papa, I’m so high up!”
satoru’s grin widens as he holds s/n steadily, his arm resting protectively around him, "must be nice, huh? a day from papa's prespective?"
"what's pespecive?"
satoru pauses, "oops, nevermind."
your son shrugs before his small fingers grip the joystick with determination, his face a picture of concentration. he narrows his eyes, and a few beats pass, before he murmurs, “papa, why is it not moving?”
satoru’s laughter is soft and affectionate as he observes the scene, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “that’s because you aren’t moving the stick, s/n.”
“oh.”
s/n frowns and adjusts his grip, slowly maneuvering the joystick with newfound confidence. satoru’s chuckles were a warm backdrop to s/n’s focused effort. “that’s it, keep going! you’re doing great! my strong son!”
s/n grins happily at your husband's praise and happily presses the button.
the claw descends with a slow, dramatic movement, and your son’s face lights up with a triumphant gasp as it successfully grabs the plushie. satoru guides the claw back to the prize chute with a steady hand, while s/n starts wiggling with happiness in his arms.
“you did it, champ!” satoru cheers.
he retrieves the plushie with a flourish, holding it up for your son to see. the little boy’s eyes sparkle with joy as he clutches the stuffed toy tightly, arms flailing around in excitement, “we got it for mama!”
“we did, indeed!” satoru’s smile is warm and full of love as he pulls your son close, his arm resting protectively around him. he suggests playfully, “now let’s sneak up on her. think she’ll spot us?”
s/n giggles, his face flushed with enthusiasm, “I don’t think she will! we’re so good”
your husband's playful grin never wavers as he whispers, “you ready?”
s/n nods eagerly, “ready!”
the pair giggle amongst themselves, and satoru takes the chance to carry your son on his back which makes the him squeal. the boy clutches tightly onto the plushie and hides his face in his dad’s shoulder to conceal his giggles.
satoru spots you from the corner of his eye. he starts tiptoeing closer and closer to you, and he raises his arms slowly, finally behind your unaware form. he grins, “boo—!”
you spin around and slap your husband, sending him flying through the arcade. you snatch your son into your arms and take a defensive stance, “who the hell are you?!”
“mama, that’s papa!”
your eyes widen, and you focus more on the six feet something man that is slowly getting up from the ground. the man rubs his hand on his cheek in attempt to ease the pain. you're relieved for him to indeed be your husband.
you splutter, “satoru?! why the hell did you have your infinity off?!”
“I didn’t feel like there was any danger nearby,” he pouts, “didn’t think the danger would be my own wife!”
your husband is about to go on a lengthy monologue about the betrayal and hurt he is feeling, but your son interrupts him to beam at you, holding the plushie, “daddy and I won this just for you!”
you take the plushie, giving it a squeeze and then grinning at your son, “aww, really? this is wonderful! thank you, s/n!” you press a big kiss to your son’s cheek which makes him squeal and nuzzle his cheek against yours.
“what about me?!” your husband interjects, and you hum in mock contemplation.
“make up for me the fact that you tried scaring me, then I will think about it,” you smirk, and your husband nods with determination. you wait patiently for his next move; however, you find him standing on top of a table and taking a deep breath.
“satoru, don’t you dare—”
“I LOVE MY WIFE, Y/N GOJO!”
“I love mama too!”
“my god…”
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#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk imagines#gojou satoru x reader#gojo imagine#jjk x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk gojo x reader#jjk gojo x you
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Crawling back to you
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up
Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?
You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.
The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.
You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.
But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.
And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.
You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.
But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.
You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.
You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.
So you ran away.
Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.
"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”
You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?
There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”
JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”
There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.
"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."
Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”
“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”
“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”
God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”
His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.
“I always want to see you.”
You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.
You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"
JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."
You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"
"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.
You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”
Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.
“I was,” he says softly.
There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”
“But now I don’t want to.”
There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.
You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.
But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.
Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.
His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”
Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”
“You’re even prettier than I remember.”
The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.
“Spencer. Don’t.”
“What?”
“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”
He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”
You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”
"What have you been up to?"
"Work."
"Anything new?"
"No."
He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"
You frown. “Huh?”
“Girlfriend?”
"Spencer."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"Spencer."
He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."
“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”
His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.
He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”
“You look funny.”
A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”
“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”
"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”
You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."
"I ran through the sprinklers."
The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?
“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"
You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.
He wasn’t alone.
You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat… jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.
"It's not what you think," he slowly says.
You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."
"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”
“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”
You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”
You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.
You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.
He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”
You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”
“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can’t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.
You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”
"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."
You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.
"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."
The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.
Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?
You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?
Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything
You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.
Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.
He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.
At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.
A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.
You reach for the bottle of wine instead.
The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.
You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.
You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.
You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”
He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”
You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.
“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”
He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”
"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.
"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”
“Which isn’t necessary.”
“But appreciated, I hope.”
You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.
You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”
He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."
You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.
“So, what do you want to talk about?”
He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"
You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”
"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"
“I remember."
His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”
You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”
"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."
"I really wanted kimchi."
"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”
You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"
He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”
“That you’re craving for Korean?”
He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”
There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.
“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."
He nods slowly. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”
His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”
“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”
You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”
The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”
His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.
“I could never hate you."
You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”
He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”
If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?
You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.
“You know it’s never going to work.”
He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”
“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”
“How did we function?”
“Based on sex.”
“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”
“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."
“Why not?”
“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.
“Because the idea still terrifies you?”
You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”
The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”
"Oh I can name a few."
He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”
You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.
"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"
“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”
"You really think you can convince me?"
"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"
That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”
You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”
“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”
"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”
His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.
“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”
"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”
His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.
"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.
You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.
“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”
You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."
"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.
You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."
There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"
You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"
“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"
“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”
“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”
“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”
He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”
His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"
You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"
He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.
“But what if it does?”
All you can do is stare at him.
“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”
His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.
And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.
And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"
Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.
You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”
You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.
His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.
"Can I kiss you?"
You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.
The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.
This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.
There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.
Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.
He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.
Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”
His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”
He pauses for a moment. “Really?”
“If you want to.”
A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”
You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.
“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.
“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”
“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”
His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"
In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.
Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.
You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.
"Maybe."
His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”
You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.
You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.
“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.
“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”
You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”
He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.
“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.
You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.
It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.
“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”
You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.
“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?
Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.
There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.
He kisses the spot between your breasts.
“You’re always so pretty.”
He gives a soft peck just above your heart.
“So incredibly beautiful.”
Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.
He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.
He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.
Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”
He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”
You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”
A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”
You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”
He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”
Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.
It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?
He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”
You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”
He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”
He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”
“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”
If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”
You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”
“Then you’ll have me.”
You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.
There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.
You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.
And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.
You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”
"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.
Your grip in his hair tightens.
“Spencer…”
“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.
Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.
“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”
It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”
He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”
“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”
The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”
“Even up to a thousand?”
“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”
You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”
He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”
A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?
And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?
You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”
He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.
Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.
The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.
It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”
“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.
He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”
You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.
"Wait."
Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"
His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”
Shit. Neither did you.
You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”
“I was too focused with you."
And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”
“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”
“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”
He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”
“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”
He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”
“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”
“Pretty sure?”
You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”
The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”
“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”
He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”
An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”
You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”
He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.
Your walls squeeze around him.
“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”
You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”
He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.
“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.
Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.
“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”
You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”
“Do you think I can move?”
“Please.”
There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.
And truthfully, neither can you.
But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.
It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.
No more running away, you decide.
“Kiss me.”
He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.
“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”
You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.
“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.
He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”
You whine in approval.
The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.
You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”
He’s more than happy to oblige.
He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.
“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”
You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”
It’s enough to push you both over the edge.
The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.
Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.
He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.
You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.
“What?”
His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”
Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”
"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"
You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”
He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."
“And that makes you what, exactly?”
“Essentially indispensable.”
“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”
A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”
You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”
He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.
Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.
You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.
You quickly turn over to the other side.
“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”
He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.
“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”
That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”
You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”
“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”
You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.
“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”
When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.
Until now, maybe.
“Do you think I should climb out the window?”
You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”
“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”
You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”
“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”
You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"
Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.
But it's not your brother.
It's far worse.
You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.
“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”
You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.
“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.
"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."
The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”
Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”
But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.
Your heart leaps into your throat.
“Shit.”
“I should have climbed out the window.”
The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."
You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.
That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.
“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”
He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“
Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.
“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”
He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.
You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.
“Please don’t be mad.”
You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.
“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.
“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”
“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”
“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”
“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.
“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”
You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.
He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.
“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”
“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”
“Clearly,” he deadpans.
You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.
“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”
To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.
“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”
Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.
You clear your throat. “Last night.”
"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"
"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."
“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”
“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”
You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.
“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”
Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”
Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”
Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”
You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.
“It’s what I want.”
Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”
“In a good way?”
“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”
“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”
“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”
Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.
You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”
Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.
“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”
You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.
You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.
And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—
“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”
If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.
Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”
You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”
He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.
“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.
“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.
“It wasn’t.”
“Spencer, he held a gun.”
“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”
“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”
“He likes me.”
He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”
He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”
“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”
“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.”
“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”
“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“And what makes you so sure?”
Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.
“Because I’m your mushroom.”
He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.
And you don’t mind him keeping it.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencerreid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#Fanfiction#gifwriting
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MANEATER | SIM JAEYUN (M)
PAIRING: virgin!jake x yn (femreader)
SYNOPSIS: in which jake is tired of being a virgin and you're asked to help him out.
WARNINGS: smut so MDNI! vrignity loss, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there), creampie, riding, multiple orgasms, etc. cursing, words like slut/whore, BARELY PROOFREAD
WC: 5k, lowercase intended
MESSAGE FROM NIC: here it finally is!! (sorry for the delay) my first piece of smut,,, hope it's what everyone imagined 😁 (also tysm for 2k notes on the teaser ahh!!) big thank u to my stella, @karinasbaby for encouraging this fic, one of my biggest supporters ilysm. pls be kind as this is something new for me BUT feedback is super appreciated, tell me what u liked and didn't like! (respectfully) also reblogs would be nice as well so feel free to drop one. love u guys sm 🫶🏼
jake sim was a virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and it’s not like he was ugly. not even close to that. jake was an attractive guy, easy on the eyes. and his flirting? a real smooth talker he was.
it was as if 2000s chad michael murray possessed his very soul every single time he would chat up a girl at a party or in class.
so why couldn't he ever close the deal? how did he find himself in a steamy makeout session one second and then the next the girl is storming out of the room in disgust. every. single. time.
oh yea, because he was a fucking virgin. a pitiful, pitiful virgin.
it seemed like girls these days wanted a man in charge. someone who could help them live out their fifty shades of grey fantasies. jake would like to think he could do that for them but how could he ever learn if no one wanted to give him the time of day? what happened to the girls that would spread their legs for anything and anyone?
all jake needed was one chance. one chance to stick his dick in a hole and he can move on with his life.
his friends didn't make it any better either. he was getting tired of hearing all about their wild sexcapades every week and having nothing to contribute to the conversation.
but they don’t intentionally leave him out or make him feel bad about his lack of experience. they even try getting him with their past hookups because you know, sharing is caring right?
“dude no way you fumbled sora. she’s a real slut i was so sure she would let you hit,” sunghoon says as he’s unwrapping his sandwich then taking a bite. “bro i didn't fumble anything. it's the same shit every time, once i tell them im a virgin they dip,” jake responds while he steals sunghoon’s sandwich and takes a bite for himself.
sunghoon doesn't even argue, his best friend is clearly in distress and is need of some food. “she started ranting about how she doesnt “do” virgins because they get attached and she thinks im gonna become obsessed with her or something.”
“why do you even tell them you’re a virgin in the first place? if that's the issue why even say anything at all?” heeseung questions with a mouth full of the same sandwich that somehow now ended up in his hands.
“because if he cums in .2 seconds then the girls are gonna think he’s a bad fuck. there's no winning here.” jake nods in agreement with jay's statement as he watches jay snatch the sandwich from heeseung and finish it off.
this is what is so beautiful about their friendship. they share everything with each other, the main things being girls and food. unfortunately for jake, bites of food is all he gets.
—-----------------
“oh fuck!” jakes pants while bucking his hips forward. vision blurry, drool pooling around the corner of his mouth. he genuinely feels like his soul is leaving his body and he wasn’t sure this was even real life anymore. to ground himself and bring him back to reality, he tries looking around the room to find something to distract him.
he doesn’t want to cum embarrassingly fast and he does NOT want to be seen as a bad fuck. out of the corner of his eye he spots a baby yoda squishmallow in the corner of the room, its sparkly eyes watching jake get his dick sucked for the first time.
it’s kind of weird but he finds comfort in the plushie and focuses on it to keep him from fucking exploding.
now you might be wondering how he got here. in a hot girl’s room getting what he swears is the best head in his life (not that he has anything to compare it to.) the answer is jay, his best friend in the entire world who he now owes his first born to.
“her name’s yn. just text her and ask when she wants to meet. i told her you were a virgin already so don’t worry about that,” jay explains as he’s scrolling through your profile showing jake what you look like.
silky, flowy hair, curves to die for. to say you’re gorgeous would be an understatement. the whole ordeal seemed too good to be true.
“she wants to fuck me? even after hearing i’m a virgin?” jake asks after grabbing his milk tea from the counter and walking towards a table.
jay simply nods and throws a look towards sunghoon, signaling him to explain the rest as they all take a seat. “yea that’s kind of her thing. she loves virgins. like, her body count consists of only virgins.”
jake was perplexed by the situation. surely he’d hear about a beautiful woman who only drops her panties for inexperienced guys roaming their campus.
heeseung then speaks up, as if reading jake’s mind, “she goes to the college in the next town over. around a 20 minute drive.” before continuing his sentence he shifts his eyes towards jay and sunghoon. eyeballs darting back and forth.
some unspoken dialogue is happening between the three as they sip their sweet drinks and jake just has to sit there and watch. minutes go by and jay clears his throat and sighs, finally breaking the silence.
“she uh, actually took all of our virginities back in high school. that’s how we know her.”
pause. the fuck? he knew his friends all have gotten their dicks wet for the same girl before but at the same time? jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. i mean, he did only just meet them three years ago, whatever they were up to before then he can’t judge.
he supposes desperate times call for desperate measures, and jake is sure he would’ve ended up in the same situation soon if they weren’t handing you on a silver platter to him.
“so… you guys had a foursome for your first times??”
heeseung instantly chokes on his boba as jake’s arm receives a punch from jay. a faint giggle is heard from sunghoon, “this bitch is choking on some balls.”
ignoring heeseung’s dramatics jay clarifies, “no you idiot, she took all of our virginities separately. we weren’t as desperate as you were.”
“and like, that pussy is so heavenly. i’d be pissed having to share her with another guy at the same time.”
“roger that, brother.”
jake looks towards the two, sunghoon rubbing heeseung’s back trying to calm him down from his almost near death over some balls.
“care to elaborate?”
“man why do you think we’re all sex crazed freaks? her pussy’s got some voodoo magic in it or something. our manhood didn’t begin when we watched porn for the first time together, it started with her,” jay pauses and shifts in his seat, slight discomfort in his lower region.
he looks up and pinches his nose, “fuck i’m getting hard just thinking about it.” sneaking a peek at jay’s lower half, jake can see his friend chubbing it up in his pants. nothing he’s never seen before honestly.
but what he hadn't seen before was how his friends were reminiscing so hard on a hook up the way they were right now. and the fact that their origin story of discovering their high libidos is all because of you? he was scared shitless of what he was about to get himself into.
-------------------
fast forward to some exchanged texts between you guys, jake found himself in your room with his pants around his ankles getting the life sucked out of him.
he quickly discovered you were very straightforward and to the point, immediately sending him your apartment address and what time to show up.
jake couldn’t argue though, all this talk about how you were gonna “change his life” and shit got him real worked up. he appreciated the fact that you skipped the small talk and went straight for his dick.
upon arriving and stepping into your living space, your lips smashed onto his and he was pushed down onto the bed. no hi, no hello. just your lucious, full lips swapping spit with his.
his hands instinctively flew to your waist, his digits gripping your plush skin as you straddle him. jake felt so in his element in the moment. making out? this is where he excels. he could do this all day if he could.
but he was here on a mission and he’ll be damned if he leaves without fucking you. or you fucking him. he was honestly down for whatever. you could ask to peg him and he would say yes.
you can sense his impatience, his face twisting in pleasure trying to savor every moment while the cogs are turning in his head, awaiting your next move. every squeeze he gave signaled that he wanted to get things moving.
you make your way down his body, peppering kisses any and everywhere leaving his skin burning. jake couldn’t believe what was about to happen.
in less than a minute he was about to get his first blowjob ever. what does he do? where do his hands go? what if he chokes you? what if he passes out from the stimulation?
before he can think of anymore what to do’s and what if’s, your mouth is on his dick and jake is seeing stars, figuratively and literally. he takes note of the little ones taped to your ceiling and thinks it’s cute.
the pink walls and plushies surrounding the two of you is such a stark contrast to your personality, or what little jake knows of you. but hey, he likes a woman with some duality to her.
“you can put your hands in my hair.”
jake finally takes a look down at you. pupils blown out, lips a bit swollen from all the sucking. you looked so, so pretty like this. he can only imagine what you look like with his cock in you.
trembling hands grab at your hair, slightly pushing you further down and a gagging noise emerges from the back of your throat. oh shit. your nose is practically meeting his pelvic bone and you aren’t letting up.
fuck it, jake thinks to himself. he was done with being patient. he starts fucking up into your mouth relentlessly, chasing the orgasm he was delaying. and you just let him.
you’re merely a hole for him in this moment and you could care less. his dick may be average in size but the girthiness of it was so delicious, you couldn’t get enough.
to make sure he reaches his high, you reach for his balls and start playing with them. his erratic thrusts combined with you squeezing his genitals he twitches in your mouth and his cum is shooting out, pooling out the sides of your lips.
and you don’t stop there. you keep going and going and jake actually feels like he’s going to pass out. “okay, okay please please!” you swallow everything he gave you and finally let him go with a pop to come up for air.
you get up and see him lying there on your bed, unmoving. eyes closed and mouth agape barely taking breaths. one might think he’s dead but this was typical.
once a guy gets to cum in a girl’s mouth for the first time they don’t know what to do with themselves. nudging him with your knee he breaks out of his trance with a lopsided smile adorning his face. god he’s adorable.
before you can suggest a break he immediately grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your back. your shorts go flying onto the floor behind him and he spreads your legs wide to prop them onto his shoulders.
his tongue immediately attaches to your clit and he starts licking you all over. slurping and sucking, as if this was his last meal on earth. he was desperate to get you to cum the way you made him and it was showing.
jake’s eating you out a little too expertly to your liking, as if he’s done this a million times. you won’t judge if he has, you’re literally the last person to judge someone’s sexual history but how is he still a virgin if he eats pussy this good?
he must’ve been met with horrible women who just used him for his mouth and left him dry. you wouldn’t do that to him though, poor guy doesn’t deserve that.
he inserts two fingers into your hole while his mouth was still working your clit. jesus christ. you didn’t notice before but his fingers were so slender and long, reaching places your own didn’t. “am i doing okay? kind of my first time.”
oh? so this was his first time eating pussy. you simply give him a nod of approval, not being able to utter a word as he dives right back in.
in all of your sexual encounters, never has there been a guy so willing to return the favor. and the fact that you didn’t even have to ask? where the fuck did jay find a guy like this? was he aware his friend was a fucking certified munch?
determined to make sure you cum, jake inserts another finger and moves his fingers in an upward motion, trying to find your spot. at least that’s what wikihow told him how to do it.
the sound of your moans and the taste of your pussy on his tongue simply feel amazing and he feels like he could come alone like this. at this point you’re panting and riding his fingers and god it’s so hot. you’re so hot.
jake finds himself humping into the mattress, trying to aid his painful hard on he’s grown since going down on you.
his wrist begins to ache with how fast he’s pumping into you but he doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll do anything to see what you look like when you reach your high.
“oh god, i’m, i’m- ahhh!” you come undone onto his mouth and hand, lips forming an o shape with the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard and he silently releases his load along with you onto the bed.
jake makes sure every single drop of your delicious juices are all licked up, driving your oversensitivity.
“so? how was i?”
you take a look at his annoyingly cute face and he’s licking all over his fingers like a lollipop. cute. gaining some of your composure, your eyes spot a wet spot on your sheets.
“wait, did you…”
“oh. sorry about that. i couldn’t help it.” jake explains with a sheepish smile and a scratch behind his head. not only is this guy a munch but he came untouched while tongue fucking you. you weren’t even sure guys like him existed, like at all.
without speaking another word, you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his. tasting yourself on him has you wet all over again and you both begin to undress each other.
you detach yourself to take your shirt off and he pauses to fully look at you, drinking in every inch of your body. hands grab at your boobs and he pinches a nipple, a small moan escaping your mouth.
your body was literally to die for, the pictures on your profile barely doing you justice. and to finally be able to feel all around your curves and give your boods and ass tight squeezes was a dream come true for jake.
(he may or may not have been jerking off to the few posts you have up, counting down the days of you guys finally meeting but you didn’t have to know that)
you also took a moment to admire his body. to say jake was sculpted like a fucking greek god was an understatement, sporting a six pack and biceps to die for. veins running all over his arms and hands.
deciding it’s finally time to do the deed, you switch positions and motion for him to lay on his back. “are you ready?”
“wait! what about a condom?”
“i’m clean and i know you are so…”
“right.”
you throw your legs over his waist, now straddling him with your vagina inches from his cock. “okay, take deep breaths. i’m gonna slowly go down alright?”
jake throws a thumbs up and eagerly nods. in a moment like this he doesn’t fail to be endearing. you could literally just eat him up with how cute he was. your pussy was about to anyway.
you lace your fingers with his and slowly lower yourself onto him. there’s some intimacy with your actions and jake finds comfort in your eyes, looking at him adoringly.
it was finally fucking happening and jake couldn’t believe it. he was about to become a man. and the fact that it was you taking his virginity, a gorgeous woman who doesn’t care that he’s inexperienced and lets him hit it raw. it's really all he can ask for.
once your walls are wrapped around his tip, jake’s a goner. the little sweet moment you two shared is thrown out the window and he starts bucking his hips up into you, hard and fast.
his hands find purchase on your hips and he’s gripping them so hard you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow. you wanted to start out slow as it is his first time but it seems his thrusting says otherwise.
you press your hands against his chest and begin to move rhythmically in sync with him. jake’s eyes immediately roll back and his breathing quickens.
his hands fall to his side and he lays lifeless beneath you, letting you take full control.
all he could do was stare at the spot where his dick entered you and it was making him even more hornier. he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.
your wetness didn’t help anything either. the squelching sounds indicated that you were very much enjoying this as much as he was.
“fuck you feel so good baby,” jake moans. the pet name that slips past his lips and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you also don’t question it.
for some reason the simple word made your heart jump. guys always called things like babe or even whore when they really let loose.
those never got to your head, you know they couldn’t really control themselves in the moment and you let them have their fun.
but jake has been nothing but kind to you this whole time, like he knew you were doing him a service and not the other way around.
this only fueled your desire to ensure that his sure first time exceeded his expectations so upped your menstrations. you quickly changed your pace to grind forward, backwards, and in circles making sure his dick felt every inch of you.
jake’s mind was reeling, his breath caught in his throat. he feels as if his dick was about to fall off with the way you were moving.
your body leans forward and you begin to kiss at his neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. your hot breath near his ear sends him into overdrive, must be a sensitive spot of his he never knew he had, but also how could he have known?
his hands that were once gripping the sheets meet your ass and he starts to guide you up and down his cock. you both were about to reach your climaxes, your pussy clenching with every move.
“i’m- where? fuck! where do i cum?”
“inside. cum inside me please.”
inside?? his first time cumming from sex and you were gonna let him do it inside of you? jake swears you couldn’t be any more perfect than you are right now.
you knew you threw him for a loop and honestly yourself as well. pushing these thoughts towards the back of your head you start riding him aggressively, even faster than before. “fuck, jake i’m cumming!”
“me too baby oh my god!”
and there was that damn pet name again. it makes your heart leap out of your chest and sends you over the edge.
the knot in your stomach snaps and jake follows shortly after, his load shooting into you. it pools out of you and you don’t hesitate to swipe some up with a delicate finger and bring it to your mouth, mirroring his actions from earlier.
your eyes meet his fucked out ones and you smile down at him, admiring the masterpiece of lovebites you left all over him. his vision was a bit blurry but he catches the way your lips curled upward, flashing your pearly whites.
jake finds himself instantly becoming hard again, call him easy but when a pretty girl is smiling at him like that after fucking him, can you really blame him?
you move yourself off of him and jake was fully expecting you to kick him out now but instead you position yourself on all fours, your ass in the air inviting him in.
“fuck. you’re into anal?”
you turn your head sharply to look at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow to question what he just said. the look you give him says it all and jake takes the hint and positions himself behind you.
“can we try anal next time though?”
an exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you reach over to grab his dick, inserting him into you. “umph! okay sorry.”
upon entering your pussy, jake relishes in the feeling of it. being inside your heat again leaves him breathless for the nth time today.
in and out. in and out. he tries to match his breathing with his gradual strokes. his member is extra sensitive right now and he’s trying not to lose himself. the impatience he had earlier has now moved onto you so you decide to take matters into your own hands and start fucking back into him.
your ass is now meeting his hips and the sound of skin slapping echoes in your room along with your moans. jake’s body is flailing from the sudden impact but he grounds his hands around your waist and grips the shit out of you.
he notices bruises forming on your skin but he can’t for the life of him let go. oops. he’ll do his best to remember to apologize for them tomorrow.
when there’s a good pace between the two of you, you fling yourself upward, back meeting his chest and the new angle has him reaching spots he didn’t before.
you take one of his strong arms and place it around your neck, having him choke you as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow. jake’s brain begins to turn to mush and he feels like he’s even more turned on at the revelation of one of your kinks.
and at this point you’re fucking onto him so hard, so good, he didn’t want it to end. “shit. shit. i love your pussy so much baby.” jake whines into your ear, meaning every word he said.
is it crazy to say you love someone upon meeting them for the first time? well, their pussy. yea. maybe. but who gives a fuck.
he was a man possessed by you, by your pussy. in this moment he truly believed there was some voodoo magic going on down there and he was blessed to be experiencing it.
you clench at his words, and your heart flips once more, prompting you to draw him closer to you (if that was even remotely possible)
the closeness of your bodies creates another intimate moment shared, kisses stolen from one another, hands tangled in his hair.
“i’m close,” he whispers in your ear, his breath leaving tingles down your spine. the hushed whispers you exchange contrast the sporadic thrusting that’s happening.
determined to reach your second high of the day, you push jake onto his back and settle yourself onto your knees, continuing to bounce up and down on his cock.
“yea just like that baby, shit shit shit i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”
jake opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold before him and god was it something. your back arches as you take his cum in you once more and your screams fill his ears, signaling you orgasmed right after him.
this moment alone is better than porn itself, and jake savors every bit of it. there’s absolutely no way he can even bring himself to type “nsfw” in his twitter search bar ever again after this.
you hover yourself over him leaving just the tip inside before sliding right back down, pushing his seed back in while it gushes around his cock leaving jake wanting, no needing, a third round with you.
but to his dismay you roll yourself off of his body, landing on the mattress next to him.
“so… how do you feel?”
he releases a long exhale he didn’t know he was holding, “fantastic. 10/10 experience. would do it again.” you simply giggle at his response with a shake of your head, getting up to gather your clothes.
“wait! um, could we do this again?”
you playfully roll your eyes at him, leaving his question unanswered as you begin to dress yourself.
—-----------------
sat in his computer chair, jake is finding it difficult to finish this stupid ethics assignment. how is he supposed to argue about the death penalty when you straight up almost murdered him with your pussy less than 2 hours ago?
he’s sure his professor wouldn’t appreciate if he wrote that he doesn’t give a fuck about someone serving their punishment if the culprit was you, but honestly speaking he’d let you get away with just about anything. you were an angel sent from above to him who could do no wrong.
the way your soft lips wrapped around his cock while your innocent (not) eyes bored into his soul. the way you licked and kissed every single inch of his body, leaving nothing left untouched. and god, the way you worked his dick? how was he supposed to move on from you??
you were an insatiable, sex-crazed goddess. a once in a lifetime experience he was so grateful to have.
his thoughts are interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. two seconds later, jay trails into jake’s room followed by dumb and dumber, all of them having a snug look on their faces.
they make themselves comfortable before they get right into the interrogation. jay leans against the desk, sunghoon sits in the bean bag situated in the corner, and heeseung sprawls himself across the bed.
“so virgin, how was it?”
“wasn’t i right about her pussy?”
“where did she make you cum?”
eyes rolling in the back of his head, jake takes a deep sigh before answering their questions. “one, i’m not a virgin anymore so stop calling me that. two, it was absolutely fucking amazing. literally would give up heaven for it. and three, she had me cum in her. twice.”
heeseung shoots up from his position, jaw dropped and eyes wide. “you came in her twice?!” the boys all share a bewildered expression on their faces, dramatic as always.
jake just shrugs at them, what? didn’t you usually let guys cum in you like the freak you were?
jay slaps his hands down on jake’s shoulders, aggressively turning the computer chair towards him. “jake. buddy. yn has two rules.”
sunghoon suddenly appears on jay’s left, “one. you can’t cum in her. you can cum anywhere BUT inside of her.”
heeseung follows and is now on jay’s right side, “and two. she doesn’t repeat fuck.”
immediately following this revelation there’s silence. complete and utter silence. the gazes they hold are intense and uninviting. as if they truly couldn’t believe you let their best friend who’s never felt the touch of a woman break one of your rules.
their eyes say it all, they love jake to death and are happy for him, like seriously happy and relieved he’s finally entered manhood. but really? none of them got to do what he did? what was so special about him?
you don’t even know the answer to those questions yourself. maybe it was the puppy eyes or his whiny moans that made you feel like you had him in the palm of your hands.
his eagerness to pleasure you but to also receive reminded you of the sole purpose of why you only go for virgins. they made you feel wanted while also letting you be in charge. call it selfishness but why can’t a girl have the best of both worlds?
and you’d never admit it, but jake was one of the best fucks you’ve had in a while. he never tried to be someone he wasn’t, just authentically himself. a pitiful, pitiful virgin. and he was proud of it.
it was refreshing to fuck someone who didn’t have some sort of ego right after you were done with them. immediately bragging to everyone what you two did and acting like they could pull any girl as if you weren’t doing charity work for most of them.
with all of this in mind, of course you let him cum in you. he was doing so well for you, how could you not reward him? had to let him do it twice to drive it home.
and seriously, what kind of guy gives you a tender, sweet goodbye kiss and thanks you for defiling him? you didn’t regret your decisions with him but they were definitely scaring you.
never have you ever been this intimate with a guy, but jake was different. you felt it. and what you did next didn’t scare you as much as your recent choices with him.
*ping!*
the staredown between jake and his friends comes to a halt and he digs his phone out of his pocket to check it. sliding up, he sees the message appear on his screen:
you: are you free tomorrow?
he glances at his friends’ expectant eyes and throws them a smirk. looks like he gets to break that second rule of yours.
© fakeuwus 2024 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
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Fools - T.N
in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.
fem!hufflepuff reader, bff Pansy, use of euphemisms and teasing yn for being innocent but sfw, reader is very emotional, jealous theo, 2800 words
"Y/n!!"
After a year, you'd think that people would get used to seeing the same Hufflepuff go over to the Slytherin table, but alas, half the Great Hall turned to watch you approach the table and take a seat next to Pansy.
She sticks her middle finger up behind your back, aiming it at all of the people who are still staring, and they quickly turn away. It was an unlikely friendship, but she was not going to let anyone make you feel bad about it.
"About time you get here," Draco huffs, "I've had to hear Pansy's 'girl talk' while you were sleeping."
You smile sheepishly at him, you had taken your sweet time this morning, hitting snooze a few times before listening to your favorite record and doing more singing than actually getting ready— resulting in you being extra late to breakfast.
"Sorry, Draco."
"Don't apologize yn, he doesn't deserve it."
You can hear the teasing lilt in Theo's voice from across the table, and Draco throws a handful of grapes at him.
"Whatever," Pansy turns her back to them, "did you hear, apparently the Hufflepuff chaser has a crush on you."
Your eyes flit between her face and your hands, and you wonder where she got her information from.
The boys around you seem to perk up at this, and Draco chides Pansy for deeming that piece of information unimportant compared to all her other, much more useless, girl talk this morning.
"Where on Earth did you hear that?" You cut in, not enjoying the way everyone is suddenly interested in your (nonexistent) love life.
"From a very trustworthy source," is all she'll give away, and you cringe.
"Can we change subjects, please?"
Theo narrows his eyes at you, as if he's searching your face for something.
"You don't care about it then? You're not jumping at the chance to ride his broom?"
The Slytherins around you snicker at his euphemism, but you go bright red.
"I- what! Why would you say- no!"
This only makes them laugh harder, but Pansy collects herself enough to place a reassuring hand on your arm.
"Don't worry, we all know our little puff would never."
You slap her hand away, upset at them treating you like a child.
"Well if you guys are only gonna tease me, I'm gonna go back to my own table."
"Y/n, we didn't mean-" Theo starts, but he's still got a smirk on his face, so you ignore him, leaving before he can try and stop you.
You take a seat at your own house table, and the Hufflepuffs around you immediately welcome you into their conversation.
You don't know why it bothered you so much. They were right, you weren't going to be "riding someone's broom" anytime soon, but hearing the way they talked about it— like you were just some silly, innocent baby— really bugged you.
If you were being honest with yourself, you also knew that deep down you've been repressing feelings for Theodore, because you knew enough stories about him to know it would never work. He was a heartthrob, and had no issue finding girls to entertain him at night— to him you were just a little girl. That conversation was just more proof. There's no way he'd be interested in you.
You unintentionally make eye contact with Zacharias Smith when you finally get out of your head, but you immediately look away, turning back to your friends just as Hannah asks about your Christmas plans.
You don't see your Slytherin friends again until Charms class, and Pansy immediately brings up what happened at breakfast.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to feel bad, that's just how we are."
You give her a tight lipped smile, shrugging your shoulders. You've realized that most of the anger came from the realization that Theo probably saw you as a child, not actually their teasing.
"No biggie, it's forgiven."
She eyes you suspiciously but decides not to question it, instead starting to talk about her next party idea until she gets shushed when Professor Flitwick starts explaining directions.
You use the quiet moment to sneak a look at Theo, who's leaned back in his chair smirking at something Draco said next to him.
Pansy turns to you and you quickly shift your focus, but it appears she's already seen you. She gives you a raised eyebrow, and you play dumb, looking back at the teapot on your desk and trying to give it legs.
"What was that about back there?" Pansy asks as the two of you walk out together.
"I know it took me forever to get those stupid legs," you cringe, hoping to throw her off course.
"No I meant your staring."
You try not to look guilty, just shrugging your shoulders and explaining, "figured the boys might have figured it out faster. Should have known better."
She grins at that, muttering "you really should have." But something tells you she doesn't quite believe your story.
Your thoughts are only confirmed the next day when she invites you over to her dorm and then immediately suggests the two of you take veritaserum to play a game of truth or dare.
You let out a sigh.
"I'm not doing that Pans, just ask me whatever you want to know."
She grins, "you know me so well."
"Unfortunately," you tease, and she slaps your arm but asks her question anyway.
"Do you have a crush on Draco?"
Her face drops into confusion when you start laughing hysterically.
"That's what you thought? Merlin, you had me scared for no reason. No Pans, I absolutely do not have a crush on Draco."
She lets out a small sigh of relief, but you can tell she's a little peeved you laughed at her.
"Well what was I supposed to think? You got all grumpy yesterday when we were teasing you about your love life, and then the staring. It was either that or you're secretly in love with Nott, which, lets be for real."
She leaves it at that, but your cheeks flush pink. Be for real what? Be for real, he'd never want you? Be for real, what universe would the two of you work out? Be for real, he hates you?
The thoughts keep coming one after another, and suddenly your vision is blurred.
"Hey, woah, what's wrong?"
You cursed Pansy for being so observant.
"Nothing, I think my allergies are acting up." You say, but there's sadness in your voice, and there's an inch of snow outside, which isn't exactly pollen friendly.
"Don't lie to me y/n."
"I'm sorry for being so stupid and emotional." You cry, and Pansy rubs your back slowly.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being emotional! You don't see us do it much, but a lot of that's got to do with how we were raised. I wish I felt things as deeply as you do."
Your tears seem to slow, and she smiles.
"Now as for stupid, that depends on where that fit came from."
You look up at her in embarrassment, more hot tears threatening to fill your eyes.
"I... what did you mean?" You ask instead.
"Huh?"
"When you said be for real about me secretly being.." you couldn't bring yourself to say it, as if saying the words would make it true and something you could no longer push away and pretend wasn't there.
Realization dawns on Pansy's face, and she immediately wraps you up in a hug.
"Oh yn, it all makes sense now."
You continue to cry, and she looks at you with what you assume is pity in her eyes.
"I know, I'm such a fool! I know it would never happen, I know half of Hogwarts has a crush on him, I know he'd never want a girl like me." All of the things you'd been keeping to yourself and secretly thinking come spilling out of your mouth, and Pansy rubs your back while you continue to cry.
"Hey don't talk like that! Theo doesn't care about those people, and I know he cares about you. Not to mention, "a girl like you"? You're the exact type of girl that Theo needs. He practically never smiles the way he does when you're around. Just calm down okay?"
You nod through your cries, finally settling down as Pansy throws a magazine at you and the two of you lay across her bed.
Unknowingly, you end up falling asleep, tired from the amount of crying you did. Pansy notices but decides not to wake you, heading down to the common room where the guys would be getting back from quidditch practice soon.
When you wake up the room is dark, and a quick looks around reminds you you're in Pansy's room and not your own. You check the bathroom attached to the dorm, and when no one is in there you head down to the common room, assuming that's where she's gone to.
The whole group is sat on leather couches and armchairs when you make it down the stairs, and you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you approach the group.
"There's our bella addormentata," Theodore purrs, and you immediately flush even though you only understand half of his phrase. (sleeping beauty)
"Sorry for falling asleep." You apologize as you take the seat Pansy offered you, coincidentally landing between her and the reason for your crying.
"Stop apologizing so much," Theo whispers in your ear, and you refuse to look at him in fear of him seeing exactly the effect he has on you. Instead you continue to look at Pansy.
"No biggie, you needed it after that." She says, and you nod.
"After what? What happened?" Draco asked, ever the nosy weasel.
Pansy looked at you, obviously waiting for you to answer so she could go along with whatever you say.
You consider lying, but figure there's no point. They all know you're an emotional person, no one would find it unusual.
"I- uh- cried a little bit. Tired me out."
The boys (that you can see) all nod their heads in understanding and decide to switch topics, finally letting you relax.
However, since you'd turned your back to Theo, that now meant when you leaned back to get comfy you leaned directly into his chest, as he had one arm on the back of the couch behind you.
"Oh I'm so sorry!" You whisper, shooting back up and speaking only to him in an attempt to not draw attention from the others.
"Don't be silly," he says back, pulling your shoulders so you're back in the relaxed position against him, "you're welcome in my arms any day ragazza dolce." (Sweet girl)
You flush red again, but this time you do look up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.
"You know I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, right?"
He grins, "that's part of the fun."
"Whatever," you turn back away from him to look at the group, your head resting right over his heart, "as long as you're not calling me a troll."
"I promise I'm not." He says, ruffling your hair before the both of you rejoin the main conversation.
"Zacharias Smith was at our practice today," Draco tells Pansy, and she looks at him in surprise.
"Really? Maybe he was looking for yn. She does sometimes keep me company in the stands."
"Oh he definitely was." Blaise smirks, and you feel Theo tense behind you. "Walked right up to Theo and asked where the pretty little one we're always hanging out with was."
"What?" Pansy shrieks, looking over, although you're unsure if the intentional target was you or the boy behind you. Her eyes momentarily widen at seeing your position before she notices something and smirks.
"Theo," she drawls, "I didn't notice those cuts on your knuckles earlier, is that new?"
Everyone turns to look at Theo, and you sit up in alarm, turning to look at his hand that's laying behind your spot on the couch.
"Theo! What happened? Why didn't you go get this checked out?"
He averts his eyes from your gaze. "Just wasn't thinking about it," he shrugs.
You frown. "How could you not be thinking about it, that looks painful!"
He shrugs again, grimacing when you grab his hand, insisting he let you heal it.
"Just let me go get my wand okay? I left it in Pansy's room."
You get up to leave, and with your back turned you don't see Pansy whisper to Theo and then him get up and follow you.
"I'll just come with." He announces, following you back to your friends room.
You try not to think about the intimacy of being alone with Theo while you tend to his wounds, trying once again to shove all your feelings down far in your heart.
Thankfully none of Pansy's roommates had come back, and Theo sits on her bed while you grab your wand from her nightstand before standing in between his spread legs.
"Give me your hand."
He complies, and you try not to blush at the warmth of his, much bigger, hand resting on your own.
"This is nasty Theo, did you punch a wall or something?" You ask, beginning to heal a few of the cuts. Luckily most of them were clean from where he'd washed them when he showered after practice, but they were scabbed over and his knuckles were blue with beginning to form bruises.
He lets out an amused huff of laughter and you stop your ministrations, looking up at him immediately.
"Tell me you didn't actually punch a wall."
He shrugs, "it was either that or Smith, and I know you don't like when I get into fights."
You feel yourself heat up. He didn't hit someone because of your preference, and the person just happened to be the guy who supposedly has a crush on you.
"Well I'm glad you didn't send my housemate to the hospital wing at least, although I wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself," you sigh, continuing to heal his hands.
Out of nowhere he pulls it away.
"Theo?"
"Look, I-" he cards a hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. "I didn't like it that Smith came looking for you. Especially that he asked me."
You look at him in confusion, "what? Why?"
He looks distraught, but he can't help the crooked smile that etches itself on his face.
"You're damn oblivious, you know that?"
You continue to look at him, no thoughts behind your eyes.
"Uh, I mean I guess? I've been told that a few times, though I'm not sure how it's pertinent to this situation."
Suddenly Theo's hands are on your cheeks, and his face is inches from your own.
"What- what are you doing?"
"I want to kiss you." He states plainly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world— as if the five words didn't have you spiraling out of control.
"Wait- do you want to kiss me because you think I'm like pretty or do you want to kiss me because you like me?"
You'd never even thought he would consider you pretty, but at his words you had to rethink a lot of things you thought you knew.
"I like you, amorina." (Little love)
"Really?" You know you should be celebrating, but you can't help the doubt that creeps into your mind. "You don't think I'm a silly, innocent, little Hufflepuff?"
He grins, "you can be my silly little Hufflepuff. And no I don't care that you're not jumping at the opportunity to go broom hopping."
You can't help but laugh a his phrasing, but you're glad he knew what you meant.
"I like you, amorina, I don't care about anything else, as long as I get you."
You smile, and Theo swears he could die happy if it's the last thing he sees.
"Well in that case, I want you to kiss me too."
He can barely hold back his own smile as he places his lips on yours, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other holds your hip.
He kissed you gently, not at all like what you'd expected, but you feel his adoration flowing out of it, and you can't help but break it to let out a giggle.
"And to think I was crying over you a few hours ago."
He grins, standing up and grabbing your hand to walk back down to the common room together, where your friends were waiting for you to go to dinner.
"No more crying over me okay?"
You nod your head, and he pulls you in for one more kiss before you rejoin the rest of your friends.
#theodore nott#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott oneshot#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fluff#slytherin boys#theodore nott angst#slytherin x hufflepuff#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n
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Summers In Pandora 🌸 Day 5 - Jealousy
Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
Summary: Neteyam wants your attention but you’re too busy giving it to someone else
Warnings: MDNI 18+, established relationship, jealous neteyam, rough sex, explicit language, orals (f receiving), p in v, neteyam getting mad he keeps getting interrupted,
Word Count: 2.5k
Index: kelku - house, sevin - pretty
Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If this makes you uncomfortable feel free to scroll and don’t read!
Main M.list | Event M.list
“Baby come on, just the tip” Neteyam’s hands roamed your body as your stood in front of the mirror of your kelku fixing your top while you get ready for your daily clan duties. Neteyam should always be getting ready but he seems to rather rut against your ass begging to fuck because he woke up with a ranging boner.
“Nete, we have to leave I’m gonna be late for class.” you loved your job in the clan, it mainly consisted of teaching young healers but you like to help out wherever you can. You and Neteyam have been in a relationship for the pass 3 years, you both just turned 19 so you thought it was bit immature to mate so soon. Even thought you were not opposed to the idea; both your parents told you to wait until you turned 21.
It has been about a year now you and Neteyam moved in together and it has been wonderful, you never realized before how horny he is until you started living together, not that you’re complaining. He is so active during the day and still he tries to fuck you every chance he gets. “Baby please I won’t take long” his hands squeezed the skin on your waist as he kissed your neck trying to convince you to get naked with him.
You almost gave in before you head a knock on the wood next to your kelku doorway flap. “y/n are you ready? We're gonna be late” you heard Neteyam hiss at the voice on the other side of the tent. One of your newer students has taken it upon himself to follow you around like a tail. Which often meant he walked you to the healer's hut and back every day.
Neteyam hated every part of it, why is this boy walking you around like you don’t have a man to do it for you. He doesn’t like it one bit. Neteyam was so tired of him showing up at your shared kelku as if he doesn't know Neteyam also lives there. He let go of you and threw on his towel on hastily around his hips matching towards the entrance flap, neteyam swings it open coming face to face with the man himself. “Why do you keep coming here? Can’t you give her space and wait until she gets to the fucking healers hut then see her? I am very much capable of walking my woman to and from her working station boy.”
“When she tells me to leave her alone then I will until then you can’t tell me what to do” he sounded like a spoiled child.
“Boy don’t make me pull rank on you, that is my wife-”
“Girlfriend, that's your girlfriend. I still have a shot”
Neteyam was about to knock him on his ass when you ran out of the kelku towards him, “Neteyam no, don’t hurt him he’s harmless”
“Harmless? You call this harmless? He's basically a stalker.” Neteyam tries to walk around you but you place your hands on his chest, “No no stop baby come on, I have to go I’ll come by and see you a little later, ok? Go get ready for training” every pause in your sentence you kissed his both cheeks so he would calm down. With a sigh you know he was going to let you go.
Neteyam wrapped his arm around you and kissed you deeply on the lips, he tilted his head sticking his tongue in your mouth as if her was stacking claim in front of the other man, you melt into him so easily, you always loved it when he kissed you, when he did anything to you.
You pull away from and breath and gave him one last peck before saying goodbye for the day, you send him a sweet smile as you walked away with the boy trailing behind you like a puppy. Neteyam watch you walk your perfect figure away from him, sighing before walking back into the hut to get ready for the day.
“Seriously you need to stop doing that, I’m not gonna be there to save you one day and Neteyam will knock you on your ass with his little finger.” you express to the boy. His ears pinned back as he nodding to your words, he never intended to make up upset, but seeing you with another man just makes him angry.
“I’m sorry...” he said in a small voice, “It’s fine but you need to watch your behavior around him, it’s bad enough as it is” you told him as you walk into the healer's hut to start your lesson. After it was over you make your way to the training grounds to see Neteyam.
When you get there, you watch him spar with another warrior and you say hi to his father and his brother, “Hey Mr. Sully, Lo’ak how’s it going?” they turn towards you and greet your back, “y/n how many times have I told you that you can call me Jake, or dad. You're my daughter in law.”
“Oh, not yet dad, he has competition now” Lo’ak raised his eyebrows at you making jake raise a questioning eyebrow you. You turn back to look at your future mate sparring with the other warrior, “What did you hear?” you asked Lo’ak. “I hear that Neteyam is deeply frustrated about the puppy dog that follows you around.” his comment made you laugh.
“Lo’ak please, I don’t want anyone but Neteyam he has no competition.” you turn your head to admire you boyfriend’s godly figure. “Why don’t you just tell him to leave you alone?” Jake asked, “Well dad, I don’t want to hurt his feelings, or make it weird he is one of mt students, I’d hate to have to teach someone who resents me” you sigh and Jake nodded.
“I mean, I can see where he’s annoyed even now, I hate it when my wife has to associate herself with other men” Jake told you. “Oh, so he got the jealousy from you?” you laugh then Neteyam walked up to you three, “hi baby” he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you close and kiss you. “Hello bro, we aren’t also standing right here”
“Shut up Lo’ak, so baby lesson’s over? Wanna go home and have lunch?” he asked you. “Sure, let’s go” you held his hand as he led the way to your shared kelku. He walked in behind you closing the flap and pulling you close to by your waist and kissing you, “Neteyam hm, I thought we were having lunch” you said in between kisses. Neteyam picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, “yea baby I’m gonna eat”
He laid you down on the hammock that sat in your common area, he didn’t want to wait to make it to your bed. Neteyam got down on the floor between your legs and pushed your loincloth up taking in the view of your pussy. You had a blush on your face looking down at him between your legs and without warning he just buried his head into your pussy flicking your clit with his tongue.
Neteyam slid his tongue up your folds while he ran his hands up your body under your top toying with your nipples. The sensation drives you mad and you throw your head back with a moan of his name, “fuck nete-” he sucked on your clit in the way he knows you like it, “yea sevin, you taste so good” Neteyam laps up all your juices, flicking on your clit you were so close to coming when your kelku flap burst open.
“Y/n? Are you here? Tsahik said she needs yo-” your puppy dog says as he walks in seeing Neteyam’s head dipped between your thighs. You scramble to pull the throw blanket over your legs and Neteyam’s head hiding him from view. Neteyam slide out from under the blanket menacingly, he turned his head to the boy standing at his kelku entrance. “I’m giving you one second, run away or I will hurt you.”
Neteyam’s lips glistened with your juices even while he spoke to the boy and sent him running away from your kelku. When neteyam turned back to you, you had the blanket up to your nose and you were crouched up under it looking at Neteyam. He was pissed he had enough if this situation, for weeks you have been saying that puppy dog was harmless but it seems you were wrong. Neteyam had no idea he was so comfortable barging into your kelku. How often does he do that?
“Baby, was that the first time he came in like that?” you hesitated before shaking your head ‘no’. “He did it before, while you were training, but I promised nothing happened.” Neteyam straighten his back and gritted his teeth, “It doesn’t matter if nothing happened when did he get so fucking comfortable to burst in here like that? And only when I’m not around, I bet he thought I wasn’t here when he did it.” you shrug your shoulders not knowing if talking would make the situation better or worse. Truthfully you didn’t know what brought on his behavior, but you didn’t want Neteyam to get upset so you never told him. “And you didn’t think to tell him to stop coming into your private space?”
You heard it in his voice, he was pissed about this, he had every reason to be as well, “why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to get upset”
“Fuck Y/n did he ever see you in any kind of intimate positions when he bargained in?” his voice was strained but you decided not to lie. “Uhm well, not really, the first time I was making lunch for when you would come home to eat and I wearing that robe you made for me, the silky one. After that he kept coming back every couple days, he never ventured in he stayed by the doorway.”
Neteyam rubbed his hand over his face, you liked that robe, ever since he made it for you, you loved to wearing it, but you usually did so without any clothes underneath, and Neteyam loved coming home to his naked girlfriend only covered in the thin piece of silk. He thought your nipples looked so cute against the cool fabric, the way they printed out sent him mad.
It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know you were accidently flashing the boy, it was his fault so not respecting your space but he’ll teach him a lesson right after he does you. For keep secrets. Neteyam ripped the blanket off your body and stood up tossing it to the side, he took a step back and ordered you, “stand you, strip”
He watched you get up and strip off your clothes for him. Your hands moved to cross over your chest but he stopped your quickly placing his hands on your wrist and pulling them apart, “no don’t hide these from me.” Neteyam walked up to you and places his hands on your tits playing with them and he brought his mouth to yours kissing you.
You whimper into his mouth as he kneads the flesh of your tits, he tugs at your nipples making them hard and sensitive. You thought he might take you to the bedroom but instead he picked you up and sat on the hammock seating you in his lap. Neteyam didn’t break the kiss though, his hands move down your body touching everything he can.
He always was such a passionate lover; always make you feel loved when he touched you. “Neteyam-”
“Shh baby, I’m tired of being interrupted, I want some time with you, need to show everyone who you really belong too” his lips moved down to your neck sucking on your skin, he leaves deep purple marks and pulls away to admire his work every time before moving on and making another one. He kissed you down sucking on tits flicking his tongue on your nipple.
You squirm in his lap and thread your hands through his braids keeping him close to you, Neteyam takes one of your hands out of his hair and brings it down to his cock, you didn’t even realize when he took off his loincloth. You gripped his thick cock squeezing it before bringing your other hand down to stroke it with both hands. Neteyam whimpers feeling your soft palm on his cock.
He moved away from your nipples and back up to kiss your lips twirling his tongue around yours. He pulled away from the kiss but his lips still touched yours as he said, “spit on it”
You tilt your head down spitting on his cock rubbing your slit over his length. Neteyam lifted your hips up and over his cock lining you up before he slowly lowered you down on his length. Your jaw was slack as you looked down at him but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his cock disappearing inside your cunt. “Always so tight baby”
His eyes dart back up to your face when you bottom out and moan, he gives you a minute to adjust before he is lifting your hips up and down on him. Neteyam loved watching you on top, it’s probably one of his favorite positions. He loved watching your tits bounce in his face. Neteyam quicken his pace bouncing you faster on him listening to the way your moans got louder and the way you stuttered out those pretty ahs for him.
“Listen baby, you listening?” he said as he sets a pace for you. “You. Will. Not. See. Him. Again. Do I make myself clear?” Neteyam said every word each time bouncing you in his cock. You clenched down on him at his words, you always did love it when he got possessive for you.
“Oh-okk, ok” you chanted. “Let me hear you say it you’re not gonna what?”
“Not. Gonna. See. Him” you stutter out on his cock. Neteyam smiled at your submissive nature knowing you’d never get like this for anyone but him, “good fucking girl.” Just then he saw a figure outside his doorway flap, someone was peeking through. He recognized the boy immediately and decided to have a little fun with it.
“Oh Eywa fuck, fuck yea” you moan getting close to your orgasm making Neteyam smile watching you lose yourself on him.
“Tell me baby, who owns you?” he smiles up at you even though you weren’t really in your right mind. “Yours-you Neteyam!” you screamed his name while cuming hard on his cock gushing your juices on his thighs. “One more time baby say it again who owns you?” he said, his voice was strained he was getting close too. “You Nete- you!” you mewl in overstimulation as he cums deep in you. Your jaw went slack once more as he held you down on him to take him seed, he drops his head on your shoulder kissing your neck as his dick pumps cum inside you. You felt him twitch when he bites down on your neck softly feeling the way you clenched down on him.
With his tongue on your neck, he looks over your shoulder and saw the boy was gone. He really hopes he got his point across this time as he plays with the end of your tail that’s wrapped around his forearm.
🌸 I hope you all enjoyed reading! I have tons of fun with this one! If you didn’t know before I’m a Neteyam girl at heart!
🌸Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!
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Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx
x : DISTANCE :*+゚
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc.
“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.”
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”
“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.
Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you.
When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing six in the evening.”
“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist.
“Thank you,” you murmur.
“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you.
“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion.
“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them.
“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”
“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.
“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”
“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I find it funny.”
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”
“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”
“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now.
He pouts. “When will you be home?”
“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”
“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”
“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much.
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”
“Do you need me to accompany you there?”
“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”
“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”
“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure.
“Love you,” you murmur when parting.
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun.
“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away.
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him.
“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.
“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum.
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.
“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
“How did you discover this place?” You ask.
“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”
“I take it you like it here then?”
“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks.
“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”
“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”
“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips.
“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”
“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response.
“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office.
Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step.
It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.
“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
“Long day?”
“Draining too,” he murmurs.
“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building.
The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.”
“Did you do anything today to earn it?”
“I need to earn my kisses now?”
“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives?
You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-
“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy.
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.”
“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs.
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning.
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity.
There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you.
“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out.
“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress.
It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give.
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first.
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze.
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
“Dunno. Just double checking.”
“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
“Yeah.”
“Fine, amazing, just dandy.”
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food.
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.
He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day.
“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”
He shushes you.
“What-”
“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved.
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day.
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.
“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.
“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles.
It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end.
“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted.
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek.
Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.”
The dark-haired stiffens. “What?”
“Nothing,” you cough.
“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”
“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”
“Which was?”
“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”
“Why would I ever want that?”
“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”
“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.”
You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye.
“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you.
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.
It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night.
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.
“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.
“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little.
“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”
He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”
You nod, “I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.”
“Sorry for putting you through all that.”
“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.”
“I love you, Wriothesley.”
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again.
*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley x reader fluff#wriothesley x gn!reader#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff
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looked for stars and i found a supernova !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it takes a random song drop and a feature from a university student for their relationship to come to light.
or
for when it became true, opposites do attract. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!sargeant!reader
warnings - language
author's note - i am SO sorry i have no explanation for not posting except for the fact that i am now unemployed (i finished hs and don't start college till like august) and i just do Nothing the entire day. i love u all thank u for sticking around <3
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe and 729,816 others
yourusername boys are SO stupid and it's so endearing and frustrating like u r such a DUMBASS pls let me kiss u on the lips (i did ❤️)
8,628 comments
username hahahah!!! funny joke babe!!! kids and i and our goat miss u ❤️
username and like just that my bisexual ass cried tears (i never had a chance)
-> username she's for the girlies every man back OFFFFFF
username going insane over this
username i know logan is in shambles rn like that brother is distraught
-> yourusername he hasn't stopped calling me i had to block his number
-> logansargeant UNBLOCK my number i am your BLOOD
-> yourusername fuck off i will call mom
-> logansargeant have you ever known sanity in your life
-> yourusername have you ever felt loved
-> yourusername sorry can u please tell mom to stop yelling at me it's scary ok
-> username she did NOT need to do him like that
-> username oh that was FOUL
username she's so pretty i simply cannot believe a man can rizz her up
username do we ignore y/n violating her brother like that orrrrr
-> username u are an only child it seems
-> logansargeant it's just that she's mean
-> yourusername go and drown in a pond since u wanna act like a silly goose
username why is charles in the likes he don't even follow her
-> username i have the most funniest and silliest theory and im afraid saying it out loud will send logan into early retirement
alex_albon evil laugh
-> yourusername i pay u ENOUGH. any more and i will have to involve my lawyer WHAT DO U WANT
-> alex_albon ferrari has exceptional pasta
-> yourusername ahahahhajaha what's that got to do with me u little clusterfuck of a twink
-> alex_albon oh! absolutely nothing!
-> username i am screaming what the fuck
-> username "little clusterfuck of a twink" OH MY GOD
username crazy how everything she says is so real idk if that's the fan in me or i am just way too fucking down bad for her
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username love love LOVE see this rep bc my man is such an idiot but it's ok cus he's my princess
-> yourusername YOU GET IT !!!!! he's my princess <3
logansargeant what are you doing
-> yourusername tryna slut him out n then build a lego set w him
-> logansargeant i always knew you would be the one to bring generational shame to our family what is this behaviour
logansargeant what happened to "if i ever talk to a man again i want you to be disappointed in me" ?
-> yourusername u were disappointed in me nonetheless fym
-> logansargeant i
-> maxverstappen1 i can tell we would be great friends yourusername
-> logansargeant no way
logansargeant what happened to BIOLOGY you were supposed to be STUDYING
-> yourusername i did study
-> yourusername his anatomy
-> alex_albon logan just deleted this app i hope you're happy
-> username Y/N PLEASE HESITATE
-> username CRYINF SHE'S SO UNHINGED
username the way i can feel logan's mortification through the screen 😭😭
username when will it be me
username love to see women in stem (seducing the enigmatic men) idk im proud of her i know she was crying abt not finding the love she read bout
-> yourusername this might be my favourite comment ever i adore u
username prophecy be looking a bit too permanent 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 who's gonna change it 🤣🤣🤣 i am on my KNEES 🤣🤣🤣🤣
username everyday i learn something new about y/n and everyday i praise the lord that i can exist at the same time as her
*liked by charles_leclerc*
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 2,629,916 others
charles_leclerc you're in her dms, i wrote a song for her in under a day when we weren't even dating. we are not the same.
12,628 comments
username CRYING WHAT THE FUCK
username oh my god is this real
username CRYING THE SONG IS TOO GOOD
username HIS VLOCE JIS VOICE HIS VLICE HIS VOICE
username going crazy rn what the fuck
username HELLO?????? WHAT IS THIS
username need me a man like this thank u
username too much unpack he has a GIRLFRIEND and it's Y/N
-> username HE PULLS??? HE PULLED HER???
username this is life altering
username shaking from excitement i cannot WAIT for logan to download instagram again and be Surprised
landonorris disgusting
-> charles_leclerc forgive me for not wanting to hide my love ☹️
-> username NAH WHO GOT HIM LIKE THIS
username "thinking bout her eyes every hour she's my wildflower" OH HE'S IN LOVEEEE LOVE
username his voice oh my god
-> username tears dripping down my thighs
-> username OHMYGOD
maxverstappen1 "we are not the same" thank god
-> charles_leclerc bubonic plague 🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠
-> username nurse he's out 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
-> username nah who got him being funny
-> username DID PEOPLE SERIOUSLY NOT LISTEN TO THE SONG
-> username NO WAY THAT'S Y/N AT THE END
-> username "okaaaaaaay" CRYINF I LOVE THEM
username my life has been divided into before this song and after this song and im so grateful for that
username i think the most important thing here is who out of all his friends owns a toyota in which the heat don't work
username crying bc wdym charles wrote a song for his gf when they weren't even dating
username in love with y/n's voice at the end WHY IS THAT SO CUTE
-> username screaming i need this song injected in my veins
yourusername craaaaaaaazy how u never told me that ⁉️
-> charles_leclerc details details
yourusername cool song
-> charles_leclerc thank you i wrote it for my girlfriend
yourusername AHSHDHDJJSJSJAJS IN LOVE THIS WAS SO GOOD UR VOICE IS INSANE I LOVE IT SO MUCH
-> charles_leclerc THANK YOU !! ❤️
-> username they make me SICK
-> username calm bf 🤝 hyperactive gf
username the most important question is did logan re download this app
-> yourusername he did but then he saw this post, heard the song and deleted it again
-> yourusername he's just bitter i am bsfs with max before him
-> logansargeant disowned
-> yourusername my grad pic on the mantle BEGS to differ !!!!!! u are on the piano u have no room to talk
-> logansargeant i'm pushing you out of this year's christmas card
≡.;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 899,527 others
yourusername got him to say he would still love me if i was a worm n now we go on walks and i point at every worm and say sorry i can't be her
tagged charles_leclerc
12,628 comments
username NO WAY THIS JS REAL
username i just want a detailed description of how they met and who asked the other out ☝️😞
username my roman empire the fuck
username the way their personalities crash when will it be me
username THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING
username the way she will never let that man know peace and i am so EXCITED
username she's so unhinged i love her
username LET IT ONCE BE ME PLEASEEE
username blocked (im laying on the highway tonight)
username the way i know logan had to be sedated
-> username my man did nothing wrong why are they torturing him 😭
alex_albon we're down one driver at williams
-> yourusername is it a good time to tell u that i recently got my license
-> logansargeant YOU FAILED YOUR TEST 5 TIMES FUCK OFFFFFFF
-> yourusername big emotions
-> username im cryinf what do you mean shw faield the test 5 TIMES ????
username LMAOO THE LAST SLIDE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER
username parents dare i say
username max is not happy i can tell
-> yourusername i received a very strongly worded message from him yesterday and the only thing i could make out was that he's a bitch for charles like. a BITCH.
-> maxverstappen1 blasphemy
-> logansargeant NO WAY you're buddies with MAX VERSTAPPEN before ME back OFFFFFF
-> yourusername nurse he is out again 🗣️🗣️🗣️
-> username what are they doing to my boy 😭
logansargeant y/n please. THINK.
-> yourusername i did
-> logansargeant AND ?
-> yourusername he's nice i will keep him
-> logansargeant NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
-> yourusername god forbid a girl wants to date a questionable man
-> charles_leclerc ?
username crazy how this is the most random couple ever and we're instantly like PARENTS !!!!
-> username i for once love them like the cultural clashes we're gonna get heh
charles_leclerc my love please
-> yourusername my pronouns are she not her because i'll never be her 🪱
-> charles_leclerc stop
charles_leclerc and can you please tell your brother to hesitate before speaking? he just offered me candy and a dollar to break up with you
-> yourusername FUCK U I AM WORTH WAY MORE THAN CANDY AND A DOLLAR
-> charles_leclerc that is not the issue here
charles_leclerc pretty girl
-> logansargeant keep your thoughts to yourself you hormonal vulgarian
-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U let my bf live
-> charles_leclerc this is how my life is going to be from now on?
-> yourusername are u complaining (threatening)
-> username i KNOW logan is shaking behind the screen he just called charles leclerc a hormonal vulgarian
-> username sibling rage takes people places they wouldn't go with a gun
username this is hilarious
username logan's likes on twt are mind blowing like what do u MEAN u wish the plague on ur sister 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
-> yourusername u should see what his texts look like
-> yourusername "you need an excoeciscism for the demon in u it might an issue idk" followed by quora links
-> username siblings ❤️
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 2,729,915 others
charles_leclerc silently working on our own little crafts in the same room tonight, queen? ❤️
tagged yourusername
11,628 comments
username CRYINGGGGG I HATE HIS GUTS
username LET IT ONCE BE ME HOLY SHITTTTTT
username they're so parents it's insane
username he's so relatable bc i too would be obsessed with y/n
username he definitely has one of those t-shirts that say "i ❤️ my gf"
-> yourusername he has one in every colour with diff fonts :((((
-> username GOODBYE
username need me a man who will sit in my general vicinity while we work on our own silly little crafts together
-> username charles might've just set a standard idk NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS
username that text.............im violently ill
username the matching rings wow god really does have favourites
yourusername wait a sec i got 12000% error on my scale
-> landonorris how do you even manage to do that
-> yourusername if u think women don't belong in stem just say that
-> landonorris STOP IT MY PR TEAM IS HUNTING ME DOEN FOR SPROT TAKE JT BACK
-> charles_leclerc shame on you
-> landonorris WJAT DID I DO
-> username crying they're terrorizing people for fun 😭
-> username we deserve this
yourusername fighting demons (a degree that i chose to study) to be on my phone bc my BOYFRIEND posted
-> charles_leclerc don't give logan more reasons to send me vaguely veiled threats
-> yourusername he does WHAT
-> logansargeant sending him links on how people got away with murder is HARDLY a threat idk why you're like this
-> username no way they got him UNHINGED
-> username 😭😭😭😭😭 he's so
yourusername MY BABY LEO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
-> charles_leclerc i am right there
-> yourusername so is leo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
yourusername are u mitosis bc i never metaphase as cute as urs
-> charles_leclerc i am too dumb to understand this but you are the prettiest
-> yourusername king i am so in love with u
-> logansargeant i judt tfeew up
-> yourusername leave me ALONE
username i hope all the happy couples break up (why couldn't it be me in a relationship)
username SCREAMING HE'S SO DOWN BAD
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc instagram au#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc social media au#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
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Hold You Tight: Part 16
Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 15 | Series Masterlist | Part 17
Chapter Word Count: Over 5.4k
Chapter Summary: Bucky tries to pull you closer when you want to pull away, and someone else in your life my not take no for an answer.
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, arguing, tension, slight harassment, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him. It was so much to unpack. Every encounter with him seemed to be that way. Something blindsided you or suffocated you, but you hadn't been at all prepared for what he just shared. And how could you? He didn't keep photos of his mother around, and you hadn't gone poking around online.
Would you have found out the truth if you had?
He followed your lips when you pulled away. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you back in.
It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. Though it partially made sense now why he was moving so fast. He believed if he met you then that you would've fallen in love and been together to this day. Because he didn't seek you out then and lost so much time, he was packing everything into a rushed time span. Dating, meeting his friends, getting you into his place. He was moving things along at an accelerated speed, and you were barely keeping up with the ride.
“No.” The muffled word against his lips somehow rang out loud and clear enough for him to stop, but you put a hand on his chest in case he tried to lean in again. “Why are you punishing me?”
His eyes rounded. “You think I’m punishing you? Jesus, why would you think that?”
“Because of how you went about all of this. I know you were desperate, and I get the drive behind some of your actions now,” you said, which you refused to excuse. You got it but couldn’t excuse it. “Your response of ‘where’s the fun in that?’ when I said you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person? You almost seemed to delight in intimidating me. Why?”
If you saved his mom, why do this?
“I didn’t delight in that. I played it wrong,” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising you. “I approached it like…”
“Like everything else in your life where you have everyone under your thumb through fear. You did the same thing to me.” You laughed just a little. “In a way, it worked because I’m officially afraid to try to leave you.”
Had things blossomed between you two organically, you’d like to believe that things would’ve been better. Healthy. There was always the chance that a relationship might’ve come to an end because life was like that. But if he frightened you enough to stay forever, he’d never have to worry. The stars would still align as far as he was concerned.
“I don’t want you to fear me or what we have,” he whispered, reaching for you as you scooted back.
“What we have? Tell me, do you think your mom would be proud of your actions to obtain me or ashamed?” You couldn’t believe that was the kind of man she raised, to put fear into the heart of the person he supposedly loved.
He flinched. Actually flinched. You might as well have raised a hand to him. “She…” He swallowed. “She would’ve wanted us together.”
“Like this? By you not giving me a choice?” you asked, pushing yourself up. “I need to go home.” There would be no getting through to him and this revelation was doing your head in. One cup of coffee wasn't enough either.
He got up to follow you. “Why are you rushing off?”
“I have a shift today, and I have to go home and shower,” you said, grabbing some of your things. “Don’t worry about dropping me off. I’ll get a cab.”
“What? No, you-”
“You put money in my account, so it’s not like I have to worry about paying for it. And it’s not like I’ll be alone either since you’ll have me followed whether I want it or not,” you said as a matter of fact.
“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”
“I’m not shutting you out. I’m trying to process the gigantic bombshell you dropped on me,” you said, stopping to look at him when he grabbed your arm. “Bucky-”
“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”
How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”
“Fate brought you into my club, but I gave it a much-needed push to bring us together after leaving things to chance for so long,” he said, tugging you closer and putting his other hand on your cheek. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me in some capacity. You’re just afraid to admit it because it isn’t conventional in your eyes, but you don’t have to be afraid of how you feel.”
How could you truly fall in love with him when he orchestrated everything from the start? “Feelings or not you’re still going to force me to move in with you soon, and that scares me,” you said. Your wings would forever be clipped.
“We should’ve been living together and married by now,” he argued, keeping a tight hold on you. “I know I’m making you move in sooner than you want, but beyond safety it’ll give us a chance to really know each other before we get married.”
Talk of marriage had your heart thudding. The man would probably force you to marry him sooner than you wanted. “You said you already know everything about me,” you said. At least he thought he knew you. The vision of you he built up in his mind scared you, too. He couldn’t keep you on that pedestal.
“But you don’t fully know me yet, and I don’t know what it’s like to live with you. The experience will bring us closer together.” His smile was full of hope. “We can read together, do movie nights, dance in the kitchen.”
“Bucky-”
“We can exercise together, in and out of bed,” he continued, your breath hitching as he rubbed his nose against yours. “Don’t you already feel closer to me now that you know we're meant to be?”
A quick knock on the door followed by a long one saved you from answering. “It isn't check-out time, is it?”
“No. That would be Ray,” Bucky headed to the door and kept you back a small distance before he answered. The man really was protective, wasn't he?
“I’m sorry to intrude,” Ray said, giving you a polite nod before he leaned in and whispered something to Bucky. Whatever was said to him made his face harden. The entire change in his demeanor worried you.
“Kotyonok, let’s get your bag and get you back to your place so you can get ready for work,” he suggested, his smile tight.
“What’s the matter?” you asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” he answered, kissing your forehead. “And before we go, I know you suggested taking a cab, but please let Ray take you back to your place. It would make me feel better.”
The hint of a plea in his voice and the look in Ray’s eyes kept you from protesting. “Fine, Ray can take me home. Just give me a second to change out of these pajamas,” you said, a bit surprised that Bucky wasn’t offering to take you home himself. “But you are going to tell me later what’s going on, right?” you asked.
“I will, but I need some answers myself first. Get changed. I’ll get your bag,” he said, gently guiding you to the bathroom so you could change and officially ending that conversation.
Ray was still by the entry door once you came out, looking a bit stiffer than usual, too. You stole a glance at Bucky as the three of you headed to the elevator, catching the anger etched in his features as he gripped your bag handle tight enough that you thought it would rip. They were leaving you in the dark about something. You weren’t sure if you could take any other bombshells.
“Ray may need to pick you up from work instead of me, but I’ll message you if that’s the case,” Bucky said, fixing his hair in the elevator reflection. “And… we may need to talk about your girls’ day out.”
“What about it?” you asked, already knowing where he was going with this.
“If you can cancel or reschedule it,” he replied.
You stared hard at him. Where was that coming from? “No, it's tomorrow, and I’m not cancelling or rescheduling. And don’t you dare use Zemo as an excuse to get your way,” you snapped. Even if it was a valid reason, you didn’t want to hear it.
His jaw clenched, but he looked sad as he glanced at you. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“We talked about this. If it’s a safety issue, Ray agreed that someone could watch out for me. That should keep me safe,” you reminded him. You’d be fine. “Right, Ray?”
The blonde stared straight ahead. “That isn’t my decision,” he said apologetically.
Your shoulders slumped. For a short time, you thought he could be on your side or at least help give you some slack. “Right. Because you don't get to make decisions, and neither do I. You’re a bodyguard, I’m just a doll,” you said, looking straight ahead, too, and pulling your hand back when Bucky tried to take it. “Please, don’t.”
“Kotyonok…” Bucky sighed as the door opened. You marched out, not waiting for either of them. “Wait.”
You headed straight for the desk, feeling sadder when you didn’t see Natasha. “Checking out, please,” you said, sliding the room card over to the woman standing there.
“Of course. I hope you enjoyed your stay.” She looked behind you likely at Bucky before giving you a smile. “Ms. Romanoff also wanted to remind you that you have a place here if you need one.”
“I’m sure I’ll take her up on that soon,” you said, turning your head to glare at Bucky. While his expression was stoic, his eyes told you he didn’t want you to be upset with him. “And make sure she adds an inconvenience fee to the damaged wall bill. She’ll know what I mean.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” she smiled. “Take care.”
Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”
You didn't speak until Ray walked past you to get his car. “You’re trying to get me to cancel my day out with my friends, after you went through the whole charade of buying me a new dress for it and everything. And after what you told me about your mom.” You took a breath to try to calm down. “Yeah, I’m upset, and yeah, you’re supplying me with the very bricks to build that wall.”
“I said we may need to talk about it, I didn’t flat out say you weren’t going,” he corrected you. He might as well have. “I know it means a lot to you, but-”
You held a hand up. “No. There are no ‘buts’ in this. For all you keep taking from me, I don’t ask for much. I really don't,” you stated. In fact, you’ve shown lots of restraint. “Who knows how many moments I’ll get like this with my friends once you move me in.” He wasn’t about to take this small thing from you after everything.
He titled his head. “You think I’ll keep you from them?”
“Part of me thinks you will, yes. Because as soon as I think that there’s hope, the second I think that we could be closer together while you loosen the reins, you say or do something that puts me back in your full control,” you said. He had to see that. “And every time you do that, like you are right now, it makes me want to push you away.”
“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”
“You keep saying that. Give me a match or a lighter and we’ll test that theory,” you said. He burst out laughing, the sound loud in the morning air as your eyes widened. “Why are you laughing?” you asked incredulously. How could he laugh when you were still worked up?
“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”
You exhaled. He was so in love with the idea of a relationship with you that arguments appealed to him? Anyone else would've walked away by now.
“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”
“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”
“Yes,” you sighed. He hit it right on the nose.
“And maybe I was rash in suggesting that you cancel your plans, but I need to take care of a couple things before we discuss that more,” he said, leading you to Ray's car before you could protest. “You just have a good shift, okay?”
He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before. He should've told you from the start, but it couldn't have been easy reopening old wounds regarding his dad.
His gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me.”
“And whatever Ray told you or whatever’s going on, just breathe, okay?” you begged.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll just think of you and it’ll help,” he said, adding in a low voice as he pulled you against him. “And this.”
This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.
By the time Bucky stopped kissing you and helped you into the car, you didn’t want to look either of them in the eye.
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your temple and shutting the door as your heart flip flopped. God, he was insufferable. Confusing. Obsessed.
“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.
“Someone has to,” you said, staring out the window. “I’m going with my friends tomorrow. I don't care if he makes you drag me back,” you said. Unless your life was in some sort of immediate danger, there was no reason for you to skip out on meeting up with the girls.
“So you’re aware, the suggestion of you moving your day out has nothing to do with wanting to control you. He’s upset because of the news I delivered and he wants to keep you close,” Ray explained, making you feel a little bad.
“So, that news was the reason why you both changed your tune, and you can't tell me what that news is,” you guessed. If you were in some sort of danger though, surely Bucky would’ve said so. “He told me about his mom. How I saved her.”
Silence filled the vehicle. “So, you know the truth,” he said after a minute, his voice neutral. “Are you okay?”
“I’m trying to be,” you answered carefully. You really were.
“That’s all you can do,” he said before adding under his breath, “No good deed goes unpunished.”
You snorted. “I guess I'm living breathing proof of that.” It was ironic how an act of kindness put you on this path. “And as much as I don't like to wish pain upon people, I hope Bucky's dad got whatever he deserved.”
Winnie, from the short time you knew her, was nothing but wonderful. Bucky said the dahlia painting in his office served as a reminder that he would never do to you what his dad did to his mom. He would never set you up to take the fall for anyone else, wouldn’t let someone else hurt you if he could help it. He would forever stand by you.
Was pushing him away doing you any good?
“He did,” Ray promised you. “And I say with complete sincerity that I hope today is very uneventful for you after the time you've had.”
Your nose scrunched as you laughed. “So do I, Ray. So do I.”
Ray was kind enough to wait outside of your place as you showered and got ready for work, and didn't push you to talk more before he dropped you off at the shop. He was even kind enough to stop so you could get another cup of coffee. It helped improve your mood.
“There she is!” Kate smiled when you walked in. “Little miss not-so-single anymore.”
“Hey,” you giggled before you paused. “I didn't know you were working today. Did you switch shifts with someone?”
“God, the schedule’s all messed up. Mrs. Crandle called out for some business thing-”
“Business thing?” you asked, your brows pinched. She hardly ever took time off for things like vacation let alone a business thing without informing her staff.
“Yeah, I’m not really sure about all the details, but Lorraine ended up switching the whole schedule around. Mya’s coming in later, and I had to come in early, and your shift’s ending early.”
“What?” you frowned, checking the schedule to make sure. She was right. Your shift today was almost cut in half. “Would’ve been nice to get a text or something.”
The assistant manager wasn't bad to work with, but she could be a little forgetful with things like that. If Bucky hadn't just put money in your account, you may have been more upset over having half a shift cut. After the night and morning you had though, maybe an afternoon off wouldn't be so bad.
“She probably forgot since you were coming in at your normal time. Who knows?” Kate shrugged. “You know, I half expected Clark to be here waiting for you. Seemed really eager to see you yesterday.”
“Yeah, about that.” You looked toward the door, your body tense in anticipation even though he wasn't there. “Why did you tell him I was working today?”
“He’s kind of a regular, and I didn't really think about it. Then Mrs. Crandle brought up your boyfriend and…” Her face fell as she stopped cutting stems, which made you feel bad when she glanced your way. “Crap, I did something wrong, didn't I?”
You weren’t about to go into specifics regarding your personal situation. “I just don’t want customers to know when my shifts are unless I’m specifically working on an order or event for them, okay?” you said, hoping she understood that it was a general request.
Bucky was not getting in your head about your safety.
“Okay, as long as you aren’t mad,” she said. You gave her a smile to assure her that you were okay. “So, tell me about your new boyfriend.”
You filled her in as much as you could to make it sound believable, just like you had with Addison. Like her and Mrs. Crandle, Kate was excited for you. And they would never know the full truth.
As your shift went on, you were surprised you hadn't heard much from Bucky. It was for the best though. He was clearly dealing with something. As much as you didn't want to defend him in your mind, it had taken a lot for him to talk about his parents. To show you some of the damage done to his body. It was a vulnerable moment. Did you owe it to him to be vulnerable, too?
Wait, why did you owe him anything?
“Heading out?” Kate asked once your shift was up.
“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at your phone. You wondered if you should text Bucky before you decided against it. You'd let him know once you got to your place that you wouldn't need a ride. “Just call me if you need me to come back in.”
“Don’t worry about that. Enjoy the rest of your day!” she smiled.
Satisfied when you didn't see Bucky or Ray’s car waiting for you either, you decided to take a walk. It was a nice day, and you needed the fresh air. You hoped the weather was nice for the winery. You’d have to take photos to look back on what was going to be a fun time.
“Hey!” you heard someone shout after a few minutes of walking.
You stopped when you spotted Clark waving at you from the other side of the street. You barely waved back before he joined you. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up. “You done working already?”
“Yep,” you said, adjusting your bag. “And I should really-”
“Could we talk for a minute?” he asked.
You hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” you said, falling in step beside him.
“You know, I actually went to the shop to buy you flowers yesterday. I was going to buy you some roses,” he smiled.
Oh, God. “You were?”
“Yeah, but you weren’t there and… It doesn’t matter,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? My treat.”
The hopeful look in his eyes made a pit form in your stomach. “Clark, I’m seeing someone,” you said, his blue eyes dimming. Hadn’t Kate said that Mrs. Crandle brought up that you were in a relationship? “It’s fairly new, and I don’t want to mess things up,” you explained, though he wasn’t owed an explanation.
“I didn’t want to believe it,” he mumbled, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk. “Well, if it’s fairly new, I'm sure you can get coffee with other people.”
“Get coffee with people? Yes. But this kind of sounds like a date, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry,” you said. That would feel like cheating even if you didn't consider it a date, and you weren't that kind of person.
“Then we won’t call it a date,” he grinned.
Maybe you were feeling paranoid, but there was something weird behind his smile. “You just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to send mixed signals by agreeing to go with you.”
His smile shook a bit. “It's just a coffee.”
“Is it?” The longer he stared, the more odd things felt, and you didn’t like it. “Listen, when you find someone else to give flowers to I’d be happy to pick some out for you.”
“I don't understand.” He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “You’ve always been nice to me.”
“Well, yeah. You’ve always been kind, too, when you come into the shop.”
“Too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he muttered, his smile disappearing completely.
You gaped at him, almost faltering in your step. “What did you just say?”
“I said you’re too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he said louder, his ire clear as day. “You think I don’t know about his reputation? He’s dangerous, and you’re too good for him.”
“How do you know I’m dating him?” you asked. And what did he know about his reputation?
He was quiet for a moment. “Mrs. Crandle said his name, and she has no idea what kind of man he is,” he said, making you feel uneasy. “I don’t think you do either.”
Oh, you knew plenty. “I appreciate your concern, really, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Well, I do. And I just don’t see why we can’t have one cup of coffee together,” he said, flashing a smile again. “It’ll be fun.”
“Because you know I’m seeing someone,” you said. He knew it before he bumped into you, but was still pushing for you to go with him. “And I also kind of make it a rule not to date customers,” you added, stopping when you got to your building. You walked faster than you thought.
“Well, rules should have exceptions, right? And if Bucky cared so much, where is he? Why wasn’t he waiting to pick you up and take you home?” he pressed, his eyes narrowing when you dug into your purse. “Maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as you think.”
Your next breath came out shaky. He hadn’t raised his voice at you, but you didn’t appreciate the third degree, or the implication that Bucky didn’t care. “Because he’s a busy man who sometimes works both days and nights. I don’t expect him to drop everything just to take me home.”
“If you took a chance on me, you’d never have to worry about things like that.”
You were starting to feel nauseous. “Well, sometimes I like the quiet after the bustle of the shop, so walking helps me decompress. And I can't take a chance on you when I’m seeing someone else.” Why was he being so pushy?
He took a small step closer. “You know, it’s dangerous to walk home alone.”
You took a step back, your keys between your fingers. “You’re right about that,” you agreed. The only reason you did so today was to take back a little control, which didn’t seem so smart now.
“I can start walking you home if you want,” he smiled, towering over you. Was he always so imposing? “When’s your next shift?”
You managed a smile in return, but it was extremely forced. “Clark, that’s really not necessary, but thank you for the offer. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
He gently took your arm when you turned toward the door, worry crawling up your spine when his hand tightened a fraction. You suddenly wish you had Bucky or Ray around. “I really don’t mind.”
“My boyfriend will mind, and I’m sure you can understand that. So it’s a no on the coffee and the walks home,” you said gently but firmly, pulling your arm back and rubbing the spot where Clark grabbed you. He wasn’t listening. It somehow felt worse than Bucky and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because Clark tried to act nice? “It’s been a long few days, and I’m going to get some rest. Have a nice day, okay?”
His eyes narrowed again, but it was his chilling smile that unnerved you. “I’m sure I'll see you again soon. We’ll have to get that coffee,” he said, walking off before you could say another word.
You rushed into the building once he was out of sight, your hands shaking. It may have been from the confrontation or the combination of everything. Maybe Clark was just lonely and latched on a bit because you were nice. Hadn't Bucky done something similar?
But if Clark wanted to see you, why hadn't he just gone into the shop if he knew you were working?
Double checking your locks once you were in your apartment, you took a breath and stared at your phone once you sat down. You had to talk to Bucky. He answered within a few seconds of you calling.
“Kotyonok, is everything okay?” he asked, sounding both happy and concerned to hear from you.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” you asked, hearing a few other men speaking in the background.
“Because you’re calling me and not texting. And you sound a little off. What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s fine,” you lied. How did he recognize that you felt off? “I just wanted you to know that the assistant manager changed my shift, so I went home early.”
“Wait, you’re already home?” he asked. The background noise suddenly stopped. “Did you get a cab? Please tell me you didn’t walk back to your place.”
“…Fine, I won’t tell you that.”
Bucky let out an impressive string of curse words as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “That’s not safe. You know it isn’t,” he hissed, but you knew he wasn’t actually angry with you. Just the situation. And bumping into Clark today and Zemo the day before, he had a bit of a point. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because I said it may not be a good idea to go out with your friends.”
You closed your eyes. He was not going to make you feel bad. “I just needed a breather, okay? And I made it home just fine.”
“But did you? How do I know someone didn’t follow you?” he asked. Clark’s face flashed in your mind when you stayed quiet. “…Kotyonok, did someone follow you?”
“No one followed me that I know of,” you said. You really didn't have any idea. “But… I did bump into Clark. He was in the neighborhood.”
“Clark? That guy from the shop who tried to give you flowers just happened to be in your neighborhood when I wasn't around?” he asked, fury seeping into his tone as you winced.
“I… I’m sure it was a coincidence,” you said. Placating him in this wasn’t going to work, but you had to try.
“That isn’t a fucking coincidence and we both know it. Did he say anything? Try anything?”
You shut your eyes. It would be like ripping off a band-aid. “He asked me to go get a cup of coffee with him, but I told him I was seeing someone.”
He chuckled humorlessly. “He asked you out?” he asked, making you shift in your seat. “Why the fuck do I not have a file on him yet?!” he snapped at someone in the background.
“I’m working on it, boss!” you heard someone promise. “Should I call-”
“No. I’ll call him myself,” Bucky growled.
Who was he talking about? “Bucky, it’s okay. The guy asked me out and I said no,” you assured him. You weren't going to go out with Clark. “I’m sure women throw themselves at you every day and you turn them down.”
“They don't ‘bump’ into me in my neighborhood. And had you told me you were leaving early, I could’ve made sure this guy didn’t go anywhere near you. I don’t even want him near your shop until I know more about him,” he said, his anger not lessening. “If he tries anything, I will tear him apart piece by fucking piece,” he promised you, the intensity in his tone making your throat go dry.
“That isn’t necessary,” you whispered.
He sighed. “Why would you deliberately put yourself in a spot like this just to prove a point? Be pissed at me, I can take that, but do not risk your safety,” he said, adding in a quieter voice, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, hating how guilty you felt, how worried he sounded on your behalf. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to worry you,” you said. It was stubborn and dumb on your part, and now you were afraid that Bucky really would try to cancel your day out tomorrow. You couldn’t let him. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
“Make it up to me?” he asked. That seemed to get his attention. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’ll…” you began, steadying yourself. Natasha said you had power, and maybe you’d have to test that sooner than you expected. “Stay at your place tonight.”
You could hear a pin drop from the quiet. “You’ll stay the night?” he asked, his voice moving like lava through your veins.
“Yes,” you whispered, hammering the nail in the coffin.
“Give me two hours and I'll come get you,” he said, his voice strained, eager. “Be ready.”
“I will be.”
God, you hoped you knew what you were doing.
Oh, Clark. He's a problem now, isn't he? What do we think Ray told Bucky? And what's going to happen when you spend the night? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#club owner!bucky barnes#club owner!bucky barnes x reader#soft!dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#hold you tight#hyt#turn it up au
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I love freelance inventor so much, Danny is the dad that stepped up.
Does Bruce know about Talia's assassination attempt ? Does he know Dany sent back bodies ?
Danny: I'm going to help this man raise his children, occasionally sleeping in the same bed while cuddling; I will call him whenever I get a chance and have my family treat him like a son-in-law. I would like to hold his hand, kiss his lips, and grow old together.....but like platonically. What do you mean this feeling is not platonic???
Bruce and his kids (minus Damian) do not know about Talia's assassination attempts. They think that Danny is a regular world-traveling civilian inventing random gadgets for fun because he's from a family that randomly invents gadgets for fun. The Fentons have been known to do that throughout five generations, and while not sticking wealthy, they do have a good-sized bank account. How else would they afford to pay for their portal's materials and power?
Meanwhile, Danny thinks that Bruce and his kids are just a regular, super-rich family he constantly thinks about. He believes the League of Assassins is a cult that is obsessed with immortality and death, which is why they are bothering him. They somehow found out about Phantom, which is his assumption. He killed in self-defense or in the defense of those around him whenever they attacked. Unlike Bruce he doesn't have a problem ending a life if it means keeping someone he values alive.
He is unaware it's one of Bruce's ex.
Damian is the only one who knows both sides but assumes no one is bringing it up out of politeness because he was raised with the idea that no one shared league secrets. He lives by the Oath.
#dcxdpdabbles#mun speaks#freelance inventor#Background info#possible spoilers#Damian just thinks the family pretends it didn't happen#Bruce and Danny misunderstand
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