#I’m not sure what it means exactly but if feels like there’s something g

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Something something about Maddie Jee-Yun and Chim having a picnic on the floor before the move out of the apartment to build a new life together

And Eddie and Chris having a picnic at Shannon’s grave

[paxtito]

grey sweatpants

parings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 4048

warnings: smut 18+, swearing, reader has a dick, oral sex, fingering and p in v

summary: tara’s tiktok feed has been filled with people buying their partners grey sweatpants, it’s supposed to exaggerate certain… features. she drags you along to the shop to buy a pair and let’s just say, she definitely likes it

a/n: wrote this while listening to the car by arctic monkeys, i will not tolerate hate towards their newer stuff- apologies in advance for any mistakes

MASTERLIST

You’re barely two steps inside the store when Tara’s hand closes around your wrist, dragging you through the aisles with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. Her eyes are lit up with that determined gleam that usually spells trouble—or something about to become very memorable. You’re not sure which it’ll be, but you follow, grinning.

“We’re not leaving until you’ve tried on at least five pairs,” she declares, her voice laced with mischievous excitement.

“Five?” you laugh, letting her pull you deeper into the clothing section. “Don’t you think that’s a little…excessive?”

“Nope,” she says, without even a second of hesitation. She looks back at you with a smirk. “You need options. And I need the perfect pair.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Perfect pair for what?”

She stops in front of a display of grey sweatpants, eyeing them like they’re some sort of rare, mythical artifact. Tara’s fingers brush over a pair of heather grey joggers, and she glances up at you with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know all too well.

“For…reasons,” she says cryptically, shooting you a playful wink that makes your cheeks warm.

“Oh, I see,” you tease, crossing your arms. “This has nothing to do with all those TikToks about guys in grey sweatpants?”

She shrugs, pretending to look innocent, but there’s no hiding the tiny grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, maybe I’ve been…inspired.”

“Maybe?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Tara, you’ve been obsessed with those videos ever since we started dating.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I have! But can you blame me? I mean, just imagine…�� Her voice drops to a whisper, her gaze drifting downward suggestively.

You follow her line of sight, realizing with a jolt of heat under your skin exactly what she’s talking about. You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited about sweatpants before,” you say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s because these aren’t just any sweatpants,” she insists, her tone serious despite the blush creeping up her cheeks. “These are…strategic sweatpants.”

You blink, trying to hide your amusement. “Strategic?”

She nods vigorously. “Yeah! They’re supposed to be like…the perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. Just enough to, you know…highlight the goods.”

You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, even as your heart flutters at the thought of her wanting to showcase your assets like that.

“And you think these ones will do the trick?” you ask, motioning towards the display.

Tara grins, already reaching for a pair in your size. “Oh, definitely. Trust me, Y/N, once you put these on…you’ll understand why I’m so excited.”

You watch as she practically skips towards the changing rooms, holding out the sweatpants for you to take. There’s a glint in her eyes that promises mischief and fun, and you can’t help but smile, following her lead.

Tara practically bounces on her toes as she waits for you outside the changing room, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like they’re a precious treasure. You can hear her humming to herself, a tune that sounds suspiciously like the jingle from one of those infamous TikTok videos.

Finally, you emerge from the changing room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you model the grey joggers for her. They fit snugly around your waist, tapering down to a comfortable width at the ankle. The material is soft against your skin, and you have to admit, they feel pretty good.

But it’s the reaction on Tara’s face that really catches your attention. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words, which is a rarity for her.

Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face, growing wider and wider until she’s practically beaming at you.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, stepping closer to get a better look. “Y/N, you look…wow.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks at her obvious approval. It’s not often that you’re the center of attention like this, and Tara’s undivided focus is both thrilling and a little intimidating.

“What’s so ‘wow’ about them? I’m starting to think you’re going mad.”

Tara giggles, shaking her head. "Trust me, you look amazing. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky?"

She reaches out, running her fingers along the waistband of the sweatpants. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you suddenly find yourself acutely aware of just how close she is standing.

"It's like... they were made for you," she murmurs, her voice low and appreciative. "They just...highlight everything so perfectly.”

You feel your face flush even hotter at her words, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through you. Tara's gaze is fixed on you, her eyes dark with a hunger that makes your breath catch.

"I'm serious, Y/N," she says, her tone turning playful. "You could give those TikTok guys a run for their money. I might just have to keep you in these pants all the time."

She winks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. You laugh, shaking your head at her antics, but there's no denying the way your heart races at the thought of her wanting to keep you close.

"Alright, alright," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, I guess these sweatpants are a keeper then," you chuckle, giving in to Tara's persuasive charms. "Let's go pay for them so we can get out of here." You say, disappearing back into the changing rooms.

Once you return, Tara's face lights up with pure delight, and she practically skips towards the checkout counter, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like a prized possession. You follow behind her, amused by her enthusiasm and finding yourself caught up in her excitement.

As you wait in line, Tara can't seem to stop touching the fabric of the sweatpants, running her fingers along the waistband and smoothing out the legs. It's almost like she's memorizing every detail, committing it to memory for later.

"I can't believe we found them," she says, glancing up at you with a grin. "I mean, it's like fate or something, right? Like the universe knew exactly what I needed and put them right in our path."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, Tara. The universe is totally conspiring to make you happy."

"Hey, don't knock it," she says, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "Sometimes the universe just knows what's up."

As you finally reach the front of the line, Tara practically vibrates with anticipation, her eyes darting between you and the sweatpants like she's afraid they might disappear at any moment. When the cashier rings them up, Tara practically lunges for her wallet, eager to make the purchase official.

"There," she says triumphantly, clutching the bag with the sweatpants inside like a lifeline. "Now they're mine. All mine."

You can't help but laugh at her dramatic flair, but there's a part of you that's touched by her enthusiasm. It's not often that someone gets so excited about something so simple, but with Tara, everything feels special.

"Alright, let's get out of here," you say, looping your arm through hers. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Crazy girl.”

As you leave the store, Tara clutches the bag containing the sweatpants like a precious treasure. She can't stop grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I can't wait to see you in these," she says, her voice low and sultry as you walk side by side. "I mean, seriously, Y/N, you're going to look so hot. I might not be able to control myself.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. “You just saw them on me, dumbass.”

Tara can't help but laugh at your comment, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but that was in the store. I want to see you in them in...private."

Her voice drops to a whisper on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the implication. Tara's hand finds yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you walk.

"Come on," she says, tugging you gently towards the car. "Let's go back to my place so you can model them for me properly."

You let her lead you, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive back to Tara's apartment is filled with playful banter and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with each passing minute.

When you finally arrive, Tara practically drags you inside, her eagerness palpable. She kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys on the table by the door, then turns to you with a grin.

"Alright, Y/N," she says, her voice teasing. "Show me what you've got."

You feel a surge of confidence wash over you as you slip into the bedroom, the sweatpants hugging your curves in all the right places. When you turn to face Tara, her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

"Damn," she breathes, taking a step closer. "I was right. You look absolutely incredible in those."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against the fabric. You can feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin material, and it takes everything in you not to shiver.

"I think I might have to keep you in these forever," Tara murmurs, leaning in close. "Just so I can look at you like this all the time."

You can feel Tara's eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and every contour. There's a hunger in her gaze that sends a thrill straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm a little under her scrutiny.

"You know," she says, her voice low and husky, "I think these sweats were made for you. Like, specifically designed to show off every inch of your body."

You feel your face flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. It's not often that someone looks at you like this, like they want to devour you whole.

Tara's hands slide up your sides, her fingers tracing the lines of your body through the fabric of the sweatpants. You can feel the heat of her touch even through the thin material, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I mean, look at you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're fucking perfect, Y/N. Every single inch of you."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a need that's growing stronger with each passing second.

"Tara," you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. "Please..."

She doesn't need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, she's pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours. Her lips find yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into her mouth, your hands fisting in her shirt.

Tara breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. You arch into her touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, Y/N," she groans, her hand sliding down your body, cupping you through the sweatpants. "You're so hard already. I love how much you want me."

You gasp as she strokes you through the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up into her hand, seeking more of that delicious contact.

Tara's hand slips under the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers brushing against the hot, hard length of your cock. She groans at the feel of it, her hand wrapping around you and stroking slowly from base to tip.

"God, Y/N," she murmurs, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so fucking perfect. I can't get enough of you."

Her other hand works at the button of your sweatpants, tugging them down over your hips. You lift up to help her, eager to feel her skin against yours.

Once your pants are off, Tara takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," she whispers, her hand stroking you again, slower this time. "I can't believe you're all mine."

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of your cock. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up into her touch. Tara smiles against your skin, her lips wrapping around you and taking you deep into her mouth.

You moan, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Tara's mouth is hot and wet, her tongue swirling around you in a way that makes your toes curl. She bobs her head, taking you deeper with each pass, her hand stroking what she can't fit in her mouth.

Tara looks up at you with a question in her eyes as you gently push her away. She releases your throbbing length with a soft pop, her lips glistening with your precum.

"Y/N?" she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. The sight of her kneeling between your legs, her hand still wrapped around your shaft, is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to focus, determined to give her the pleasure she deserves.

"Everything's perfect," you murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek. "But I want to focus on you for a bit. I want to make you feel good."

Understanding dawns in Tara's eyes, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. "Oh, is that so?" she purrs, leaning into your touch. "Well, far be it from me to deny you."

She shifts back on her knees, allowing you to sit up. Your cock twitches at the change in position, bobbing heavily between your legs. Tara's gaze is drawn to it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you once more. "I can't believe I get to have you like this."

You groan at her touch, your hips rocking forward into her grip. But you force yourself to pull back, needing to maintain control. You reach out, gently pushing Tara onto her back, your body hovering over hers.

"Shh, just relax," you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you."

You start by kissing her deeply, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. Tara moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You trail your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Tara arches beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. You can feel her nipples hardening, even through the fabric of her shirt. Your hand slips beneath the hem, your fingers skimming over the soft skin of her stomach.

Tara gasps as your hand slides higher, your fingers brushing against the underside of her breasts. You can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric of her bra, and it makes your mouth water with the desire to taste her.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with need. "Please, touch me."

You don't need any more encouragement. Your hand cups her breast, your thumb brushing over her nipple and making it harden even more. Tara arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Fuck, that feels good," she gasps, her hips bucking up against you. "Don't stop."

You switch to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Tara's hands fist in the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with pleasure. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.

But you resist, determined to make this about her pleasure. Your hand slides down her body, over her stomach and down to the waistband of her sweats. You hook your fingers under the fabric, tugging it down slowly.

Tara lifts her hips to help you, and soon she's lying before you, completely bare. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hand sliding back up her thigh. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Tara's cheeks flush at your words, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'm glad it's you," she whispers. "I trust you, Y/N. I know you'll make me feel good."

Your fingers brush against her core, and she gasps, her hips bucking up into your touch. You circle her clit with your finger, feeling it grow harder under your touch.

"Oh fuck," Tara moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels amazing."

You continue to tease her, your fingers dipping lower to brush against her entrance. She's wet and ready for you, and the knowledge makes your cock throb with need.

Tara's hips buck up against your hand, her body begging for more. You can feel her wetness coating your fingers, and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to plunge them inside her.

Instead, you focus on her clit, circling it with your thumb while your fingers tease her entrance. Tara's moans fill the room, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arches into your touch.

"Please, Y/N," she gasps, her voice strained with need. "I need more. I need you inside me."

You can't resist her pleas any longer. Sliding two fingers inside her, you groan at the feel of her tight heat surrounding you. Tara cries out, her walls clenching around your digits as you pump them in and out.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you murmur, your thumb continuing to work her clit. "I love how you feel around my fingers."

Tara's hips move in time with your thrusts, her body taking you deeper with each pass. You can feel her getting closer, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.

"Y/N," she moans, her head thrashing on the pillow. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come."

You redouble your efforts, your fingers moving faster, harder. Tara's body tenses beneath you, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she teeters on the edge.

"Come for me, baby," you encourage her, your voice rough with need. "Let go. I've got you."

With a cry that's almost primal, Tara comes undone. Her body bows off the bed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. You continue to stroke her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's a boneless heap beneath you.

As she comes down from her high, Tara looks up at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "Holy shit," she breathes, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was incredible."

You grin down at her, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her such pleasure. But you’re still throbbing with need, and it won’t be go anywhere any time soon.

As the haze of post-orgasmic bliss starts to fade, Tara's gaze drifts down to your still-throbbing erection. Her eyes widen slightly, a mix of hunger and concern flickering across her face.

"Y/N," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're still so hard. Do you... do you want me to take care of that for you?"

You groan at her touch, your hips bucking up into her grip. The feel of her soft hand wrapped around your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that there's something important you need to address first.

"Wait," you say, gently removing her hand from your cock. "Before we go any further, we need to talk about protection."

Tara blinks up at you, a little confused. "Protection? What do you mean?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This isn't exactly the sexiest topic, but it's a necessary one. "I mean condoms, Tara. We can't just jump into having sex without them. It's not safe."

A flicker of understanding crosses her face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. Of course. I wasn't thinking straight."

You smile at her, relieved that she's on the same page. "It's okay. It's easy to get caught up in the moment. But we need to make sure we're being responsible.

Tara nods, her hand reaching for the nightstand drawer. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a foil packet. "Looks like I'm prepared after all," she says with a wink.

You take the condom from her, tearing it open with your teeth. Tara watches as you roll it down over your shaft, her eyes darkening with desire at the sight.

"Fuck, that's hot," she murmurs, her hand wrapping around you once more. "Seeing you take charge like that."

You grin at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you approve. Now, where were we?"

Tara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she pulls you towards her, guiding you to lie on top of her once more. "I think we were right about here," she purrs, her legs parting invitingly.

The heat of her core radiates against your protected length, making you shiver with anticipation. You line yourself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip of your cock.

"Are you ready for me?" you murmur, your breath hot against her neck.

Tara nods, her hips lifting in a silent plea. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she breathes, her nails digging into your shoulders.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, you push forward, feeling her tight heat envelop you. Tara gasps at the intrusion, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.

"Oh fuck," she moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "You're so big, Y/N. It feels amazing."

You groan at her words, the sensation of her tightness driving you wild. You start to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm.

Tara meets your movements, her hips rising to greet each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans of pleasure.

"Harder," Tara gasps, her nails raking down your back. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."

You oblige, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips.

Tara's legs wrap around your waist, her ankles locking at the small of your back. The new angle allows you to go even deeper, and you feel her tightening around you, signaling her impending release.

"Y/N," she cries out, her voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."

You redouble your efforts, pounding into her with abandon. The feeling of her walls fluttering around you is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your own release building.

Tara cries out, her body arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down around you, milking your cock for all it's worth. The sensation is too much to bear, and with a final, guttural groan, you come undone.

Your hips stutter as you empty yourself inside the condom, your body shaking with the force of your release. Tara holds you close, her fingers threading through your hair as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

As you both come down from your highs, you collapse onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty heap. Tara nuzzles into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline.

"That was incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You grin at her, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because we're definitely doing that again.

Tara laughs, the sound bright and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest.

[dykewithnofilter]

I don’t need your help… *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:════ ⋆★⋆ ════*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

IN HONOR OF ARCANE SEASON TWO, IM POSTING A FIC THATS BEEN IN MY NOTES APP FOR MONTHS

(this is very old, cut me some slack)

WARNINGS: I WILL BLOCK MINORS, THIS IS 18+. MDNI. Nsfw, some angst, gf!Vi, fingering r!receiving, head r!receiving. Let me know if I missed anything.

men dni ✌️

ESL, and also not proofread ✍️

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:════ ⋆★⋆ ════*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You stared at the wall, sighing. You’d been like this for hours. Where was she? Did she leave you? Was she out drunk again? Every single possibility raced through your head. The door opened suddenly, startling you. Your head popped up quickly, eyes widening as you saw Vi. “Vi? What happened? Who hurt you—“ you started, worried. She sighed. “Nothing. Just a squabble at the bar. Quit worrying.. it’s annoying.” Vi said, her tone fed up and tired. You sat back down, waiting anxiously for her to do something about the cut on her stomach.

Vi sat down on the couch, not next to you, but the furthest away from you she could possibly be. She did this a lot. She hated showing you how she felt… “Are you not gonna treat that?” You ask quietly. She side eyed you. “No.” She said simply. She was in pain. You could see it, even if she wouldn’t tell you. You got up, sighing. “What are you doing?” Vi said with a frown on her face. You ignored her, grabbing a towel you wet with soap and water. You got on your knees, dabbing it against the wounds she’d accumulated on her stomach and thigh. “I don’t need your help…” Vi mumbled, wincing. “I don’t care.” You mumbled.

Vi looked down at you, a slight flush on her face from seeing you on your knees like that. “Just— hurry up..” Vi says quickly. Your brain pauses for a second. “Why?” You look up at her. She avoided your eyes, the flush in her cheeks becoming more evident. You cracked a smile. “Not everything has to be sexual, Vi.” You say, trying to sound stern. It probably didn’t help that you had to pull her pants off to clean the cut on her thigh. “I- I didn’t say— just- shut up.” Vi protested, sounding more cute than menacing. Now it was your turn to be a mean. Since she was out of her bad mood, maybe you could be a bit flirty. “I mean, I’m not complaining, just saying.” You grinned, putting the soapy rag right over the wound on her thigh, letting your hand wonder a bit. “What are you trying to do?” Vi said, her heart beating quickly. “What? I’m not doing anything.” You say, moving your hand to her inner thigh.

This felt pretty weird. Usually Vi initiated these things, and on you. “Y/n.” Vi said sternly. Okay. Maybe you were being too risky. “Finish whatever your doing, and hurry.” She said, frowning. A small tinge of excitement washed over you, knowing exactly what she was gonna do next.

You finished cleaning her up, and of course, now you were pinned against the wall while she kissed you roughly. You broke the kiss, panting. “No need to suffocate me..” you breath. “I’m not. Kissing and choking are two very different things.” Vi said flatly, a hint of amusement shining in her cold eyes. “I- shut up.” You smile. Vi rolled her eyes, kissing your neck. “Nope.” She replied, giving you a few love bites she was sure would be a nice, red blotch in a few minutes. You let out a soft hum of approval, feeling your breath hitch as Vi removed your clothes. Vi looked in your eyes again, asking for approval silently. You nodded, gulping.

In a split second, you were pushed against the couch, your legs spread. Vi slowly took your panties off, looking you in the eyes while doing so. “Beg.” She grinned. “..I— please, Vi..” you pant. Vi raises a brow. “Please, Vi, I need you..” you say, your voice more whiny. “That’s more like it.” And without another word, Vi slowly pushed her fingers into your dripping core. “F-fuck!” you gasp. “G-give a girl a warning-“ you say, a few moans bubbling from your mouth as vi curls her fingers. “I gave you plenty.” Vi shrugged, burying her face between your thighs. “Warning.” She mumbled, licking your clit softly, her free hand cupping your ass.

“Mm-.. vi—“ you whine. Vi swirled her tongue around your clit while her fingers curled and pumped inside of you. “M-mm— too much!..” you whimper. Vi continues her ministrations, defermened not to stop till you cum. Your hips shy away from her, but she holds them in place with her free hand. “Hngh— fuck- Vi, I’m close.!” You pant, your thighs shaking. Vi grins, speeding up. Her tongue flattens against your clit, pumping her fingers faster. “Ah-!” You moan. “Vi- I’m- I’m gonna—“ you can barley finish your sentence before you cum. Vi licked her lips, looking you in the eyes as you panted.

“Did I do well?” She smirked. She already knew the answer.

“Shut up.” You reply, blushing as you looked away.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:════ ⋆★⋆ ════*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I NEED IDEAS, GIVE ME REQUESTS 😣

[wandaslittlebird]

Confessing (Alternate)

Mean!Stepmom!Wanda x Pervy!Reader

After months of spying on your stepmother, you’re finally caught and made to confess far more than you’d expected.

CW: Non-consensual spying, underwear stealing and other nefarious acts, mentions of masturbation, stepmom/stepdaughter, intense questioning, dacryphilia (kinda), humiliation, spanking, mommy kink, accidental orgasm, arousal tasting, allusion of oral (W receiving)

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: This is literally the exact same fic I posted yesterday but with a non g!p reader. The only things that have changed are the reader’s anatomy and the ending.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, still mostly naked from the long shower you’d just taken. You stood up on your tippy toes in order to highlight the main attraction: your new lacy thong underwear.

You’d stolen them from your stepmother Wanda's wardrobe earlier while she was busy making dinner. When you’d found them, you just knew you had to have them.

It was the first time you’d ever stolen her panties to wear, and the act both scared and aroused you. It was one of the boldest moves you’d ever made in your months of silent admiration of Wanda.

Not to say that the stuff you’d been doing up until this was innocent or tame, by any means. This was just the furthest you’d ever pushed the envelope.

It’s not that you wanted to get caught, per se, but the risk was enticing. It was sort of like exhibitionism. The risk of being in public added excitement, but that didn’t mean you wanted to get arrested for public indecency.

“Honey! Dinner’s ready!” Wanda’s voice cut off your thoughts from the dining room.

You frowned, not ready to get dressed quite yet. Nonetheless, you shouted from the bathroom, “I’ll be down in a second!” before slipping on your plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. It’s fine. You’d be nice and quick with dinner, then you could slip away to the privacy of your room for the rest of night. You had a better mirror in there anyway: a full body one that would solve this tip toe problem. Maybe you could even put on a bit of a fashion show for yourself, trying on all of your favorite bras and deciding which one made for the best set.

You took a deep breath, trying to mask your excitement. It was going to be a perfect night. All you had to do was make it through dinner first.

You walked nervously down the stairs into the dining room where you found Wanda dishing out pasta onto each of your plates. She offered you a gentle smile upon arrival. “Oh good, you made it. I was worried for a second there you’d make me eat alone. Just pasta tonight, nothing fancy. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, it’s no problem at all,’” you assured. “Anything you make will surely be delicious.” You tried to offer her the same smile she’d offered you, but it came out awkward and uneven. It was clear you were nervous. You cursed yourself for your inability to hide your feelings from her.

She tilted her head in slight confusion. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed.”

“I… uh… yeah I’m fine. I must’ve just taken a really hot shower,” you attempted to explain. She clearly wasn’t buying it. You shrank back in your chair a little bit. While it was sexy, the thin cut of the underwear wasn’t exactly comfortable. You shifted around as the fabric crept up into uncomfortable places.

“Are you sure?” she asked, unconvinced. “Let me feel your head.” She leaned over the table, giving you a clear view down the front of her shirt. Fuck. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath her blouse. You inhaled shakily, shifting even more obviously as you felt yourself grow wet at the sight of her.

She touched your head with the back of her hand. Her brows furrowed in confusion as your uncomfortable wiggling became more pronounced. “Darling, you seem terribly restless. What’s going on?” She was starting to catch on, at least, to the fact you were keeping something from her. Though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was, she was certain she could get it out of you. You were never very good at keeping secrets, especially not from her.

You scooted your chair backwards, determined to escape this situation as quickly as possible. “I… uh… Actually I am feeling a bit poorly. I better go up to my room.” You made a move to try and get up, but she grabbed your wrist before you could escape.

You turned to let her and you were met with a glare that nearly made you crumble. She looked at you like she was looking into your soul, like she was some sort of omnipotent goddess that already knew every secret you’d ever tried to keep. “Honey,” she said, voice even and emotionless, “I think we need to have a talk.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you collapsed back down into your seat. “I’m sorry, mommy,” you whispered tearfully. How could she possibly know? Did she see something by accident?

She smiled knowingly. She had you now. That poor little head of yours couldn’t come up with a lie right now no matter how hard you tried. She circled the table and squatted down next to your chair, squeezing your hand and soothingly rubbing your temple with her thumb. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s not mad. I just need you to tell me what happened, okay? It’s okay, you can tell mommy.”

You swallowed. So she didn’t know. If you played your cards right, you could still make it out of this. Subconsciously, you crossed your legs, squeezing them tightly together to hide yourself from her. It was a painfully obvious move, but her soft voice and her hand on your head were making it so very hard to think clearly.

Wanda smirked and ran her hand up the side of your hip. Whatever you were hiding was somewhere in here.

Her hand slid over the fabric of your baggy pajama pants. Oddly enough, she couldn’t feel any underwear underneath the pants. Your secret wasn’t just that you weren’t wearing underwear, was it? No. As her hand got further up your waist, she felt them. It was different from anything she’d ever known you to wear. The fabric didn’t make its way around your waist until it was up over your hip bones.

“Honey,” she said calmly. “What are you wearing under your pajamas?”

Your mouth went dry and you froze, unsure how to answer her question. You decided it was best to play dumb. “W-what do you mean? Underwear.”

“Oh come on now darling,” she said, voice soft but slightly perturbed. “You know what I’m talking about. What underwear are you wearing right now?”

Your eyes darted around the room, avoiding her gaze at all cost. She wasn’t going to check if you lied, was she? “Just my… white cotton ones.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, unconvinced. “Do you mind if I lift up your shirt so I can make sure?”

Your hands flew to your waist, pinning your shirt to your body. “I… uh… I don’t feel comfortable showing you my underwear.”

She pursed her lips, annoyed with your evasiveness. She had started to believe that her soft mommy act wasn’t going to cut it, if she really wanted you to confess. “Darling, I’ve seen you in your panties countless times before. Hell, I probably bought you those underwear. Why are you getting so bashful all the sudden?”

You curled up tighter. You knew she was on to you by this point, but the humiliation of revealing yourself was too much. “I just… I don’t wanna show you, okay?” Your bottom lip quivered, tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

Wanda stood up, pushing your chair back until it hit the wall. You gasped, looking up at her, frightened as she loomed over you menacingly. “Alright, darling. If you can’t be a good girl and tell mommy what’s going on, I’m going to have to pull you over my lap, push your pants down to your ankles, and spank you in whatever panties you’re wearing, okay? So I’ll ask you one more time. What. Underwear. Are. You. Wearing. Right. Now?”

Your eyes went wide. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your entire body started to shake as you stared up at her, frozen. Her gaze was harsh now, face unmoving as she waited on an answer.

Finally the dam broke. A cry ripped from your throat and tears poured down your face. You crumbled to pieces underneath her. “I’m not wearing my underwear, I’m wearing yours! I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have done it. And I know I shouldn’t have lied! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You sobbed.

She shrunk back down, squatting again on the floor in front of you. She could hardly hide the pleasure she got from watching you shake and sob underneath her. She took your hand in hers, wiping away your tears. “See, baby? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You melted into her hand. You were truly hers now. No more lying, no more games. No more thoughts in your precious little head aside from “do exactly what mommy tells you to do”. Any resistance you had had melted away.

“Can you tell mommy why you were wearing her panties, sweetheart?” She asked softly.

“I wanted to be pretty,” you cried weakly. “Like you.”

Wanda tilted her head. You had plenty of underwear of your own. She even let you get the fancy stuff sometimes. Certainly your own underwear collection was more expansive than hers. “Were your own pretty panties not working for you? You just had to steal some of mommy’s?”

You nodded. Your head was so jumbled it felt like the confessions were spilling out of you. “I see you through the door sometimes, when you’re getting dressed. You just look so… perfect with your matching bras and panties,” you confessed.

“You see me through the door?” She asked, noting how you had said ‘see’ rather than ‘watch’. “Do you spy on mommy while she’s naked? Do you watch me when I change my clothes?”

Your head lulled to the side. “No! …yes… sometimes.” You confessed, getting quieter with each statement.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised and amused by your unswerving honesty. She’d known, of course, about your little habits. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought. However, having you blubbering under her, confessing every little thing you’d ever done, brought her immense satisfaction.

She ran her hand up your upper thigh again, lightly tracing shapes with her fingers. “How long have you been spying on mommy, huh?”

You sighed, feeling the wet spot on the underwear grow. Her touch was so memorizing you nearly forgot to answer the question. She pulled her hand away, grabbing your face and raising her eyebrows expectantly. You snapped out of your haze. “I don’t know! I don’t know how it started! Please! I promise I’m not a naughty girl!”

Her hand moved up to your hair, gently wiping it from her face. Her rapid switching from gentle to harsh was making your head spin. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Mommy’s not mad. You’re doing a very good job being honest with me.” She leaned forward, so close you could feel her breath against your ear. “How does it make you feel, watching me in my room like that? Watching me change my clothes and seeing my pretty lingerie?”

“G-good,” you answered hazily. “I just… I like to see, sometimes.”

She was slowly climbing up your body, almost in your lap now. “You just like to see sometimes, hmm?” She repeated. “Is that all?”

“Sometimes I-I like to… um… to-touch my… in the hallway while I watch,” you confessed, too scared and hazy to lie to her anymore.

A faint smile grew on her lips. She could hardly believe how vulnerable she’d made you. She’d never quite seen you like this before. “That’s quite naughty of you, darling. You can’t just touch yourself in the hallway like that. Someone could catch you, you know.”

“Dad almost… one time he saw… but he didn’t know what I was doing and I pretended I was waiting on you.”

She sat on your knees, rubbing soothing circles on your collarbones and shoulders. “Dad almost caught you, huh? And what were you doing, exactly?”

“Just… rubbing… on the outside. I didn’t have my h-hands in my pants or anything,” you stammered.

She leaned forward again, moving her hands down to your hips. “That was a very very naughty thing to do, little girl. I better not catch you rubbing yourself in the hallway again.”

You shook your head. “It will never happen again! I promise!”

She grabbed your face again, significantly softer now that she’d already broken you. She simply lifted your chin to look her in the eyes. “No more lying, darling. I want to know the truth. Are you going to stop spying on me?”

You nodded frantically, determined to never find yourself in this situation again. “Never! I swear!”

“Good girl,” she cooed. She gently rubbed your cheek with her thumb. “And no more stealing my underwear, agreed?”

You nodded again, driven to yet another confession you hadn’t planned on making. “No more! And no more stealing the dirty ones either. I won’t even snoop again! I promise!”

“Oh?” Wanda purred, “So you’ve been stealing my dirty panties too? Not just the clean ones?” Once again, she had been noticing her panties in your laundry instead of hers for months now. She was under no illusion that they were ending up there accidentally.

“This… this was the first time I stole any clean ones! I’ve never worn them before either!” You defended.

She hummed softly, pretending to ponder your confession. “Hmm. And what, exactly, do you do with my dirty panties?”

“I just… smell,” you confessed. “Some I use them to… t-touch myself with.”

“You use them when you touch yourself?” She asked, her voice still gentle and sweet. She ran her hands through your hair with an air of possession.

You nodded. “One time I had… I had a taste. But just one time!”

She chuckled smugly. “Oh?” She smirked down at you. “You took a taste, huh? Just once?”

You nodded. You were so terribly embarrassed. You wanted to throw yourself into her and beg her for forgiveness, but you doubted it would help.

“And how did I taste, darling?” She asked.

You moaned a little at the memory, hips bucking up as you felt yourself grow even wetter. “Really g-good. I’d never… finished that much before.”

“Aww,” she chuckled again. “Did you cum really hard when you tasted mommy?”

You nodded. Her hands traced light patterns on your hips, making their way to your stomach. “Just from a little taste?” She asked again, egging you on for more details.

“I… it kinda sprayed everywhere,” you explained. “I’ve never done that before.”

You were so wet now, you’d soaked through both the thin fabric of the underwear and your pants, leaving a wet spot on your chair. Wanda looked down at the spot and smirked smugly.

“It looks like maybe you enjoyed it, huh?” She lightly traced the waistband of your pants, getting close but not quite touching the wet parts of the fabric.

You whimpered and bucked your hips up, trying to get her hand closer to where you needed it. “Y-yeah. I didn’t know it could… happen like that.”

Wanda hummed, pondering your words. “Yeah, sweetheart. It happens like that sometimes when you feel really really good.”

You nodded, still sniffling. The whole ordeal had you beyond embarrassed, yet you noticed that your arousal persisted through the embarrassment. Perhaps it was even worsened by it.

“Can-can I go to my room?” You stuttered. You had to get out of here, to somewhere more private before your humiliation and arousal bubbled over.

“Aww, sweetheart,” she cooed with fake sympathy. “Did you really think after all of this I would just let you go to your room?”

Your eyes went wide with terror. There was only so much more of this you could withstand before disaster struck. “B-but you said you weren’t mad!”

“I’m not mad, honey,” she reassured. “But what you’ve done was very very naughty, isn’t it?”

You nodded, another wave of tears threatening to fall.

“And when little girls do naughty things they have to be punished, don’t they?” She said, affectionately combing through your hair.

You nodded again, whimpering under her gentle touch. “But you’ll go easy on me, right? Because I was a good girl and I was honest and I told you everything?”

She chuckled. Your description wasn’t exactly accurate, but she couldn’t help but take at least a little pity on you. You had confessed in the end, even if it took a little pushing. “Of course, baby,” she soothed. “Now go upstairs and wait for mommy. I want you over the end of the bed in nothing but mommy’s panties, okay?”

You nodded frantically, running up the stairs and assuming the position as soon as she got off your lap.

She chuckled, amused by your eager obedience, and boxed up the pasta she’d made so she could easily heat it back up after this was over.

It only took her about five minutes to make her way up to the bedroom, but to you, bent naked over the edge of the bed, it felt like hours.

You had to fight to keep your head down on the mattress when you heard her open the bedroom door. You whined as you watched her pull the wooden hairbrush from her nightstand. “No mommy! Please not the hairbrush! Please I was so honest and-and I answered all of your questions-“

She cut you off by rubbing gentle circles on the swell of your ass. “Shshsh,” she soothed. “Mommy’s only doing this because she loves you, okay? I have to remind my sweet girl what happens when she’s naughty so she’ll remember to be a good girl, right?”

You whimpered and squirmed under her, trying to be patient and still but also desperate to get away from the hairbrush. The thin fabric of the underwear offered you little to no protection.

“I want you to count for me, okay?” She instructed. “If you can keep count like a good girl, we’ll only do 15, but if I have to count for you, I’m gonna have to do 25, okay?”

You nodded, determined to be good and keep count. However, you weren’t traditionally known for keeping a clear head during your punishment. “Can-can I hold onto a pillow, please?”

You couldn’t see your face, but the tears in your voice made it hard for her to deny you anything. “Of course, baby,” she said, pulling a pillow from the headboard and tucking it into your arms. She kissed the side of your teary face. “Mommy loves you very much, princess. It’ll be over soon.”

She tapped your ass twice with the hairbrush before placing the first smack firmly on your left cheek. You cried out, wailing more with overwhelming embarrassment than pain.

“One!”

She hit you again with perfect precision in almost the exact same spot.

“T-two”

She switched sides, smacking you again on the other cheek.

“Three!”

You made it to seven before you inevitably lost count. She waited for a moment after the strike before she decided your wailing was not going to give way to a number, and she officially started counting herself.

By ten, you had resorted to begging. You knew better than to flail and kick your legs, she’d have you pinned over her lap with a far worse punishment in store, but you were allowed to cry and plead all you wanted. “Please mommy! Please, I'll be good. I learned my lesson mommy please no more!”

You sounded so pathetic she was tempted to have mercy on you. You weren’t even halfway through your punishment now that she’d pushed it to 25. But she would stick to her word. That was, after all, what was most important when it came to discipline.

It wasn’t even so much the pain, you were trying to escape, but something far more alarming that boiled in your lower belly. Having her, a commanding force over you was awakening something in you. The humiliation of a confession, matched with wearing her underwear and being spanked like a child over her bed had a coil building in your lower stomach.

By 15 spanks, you realized it was inevitable. You were pleading with her more quietly now. Your hips bucked against the bed in what she thought was an attempt to get away, but by the 20th spank the coil snapped. In a humiliating display of desperation, you came, all over the sheets.

She stopped spanking you, taking a second to realize what just happened. “Did you just…?”

You wailed into the pillow, burying your face into it until it nearly suffocated you. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry mommy I didn’t mean to! I’ll clean it up! I promise! Please no more spankings mommy! Please, I'll be a good girl!”

Wanda laughed sadistically. “Good girls don’t have little accidents when their mommies spank them, do they?”

Your voice trembled. You could hardly breathe. “N-no.”

Wanda tapped your sore ass twice with the hairbrush. It hurt worse than when she’d done it earlier. “Get up, sweetheart.”

Reluctantly, you got up, standing naked at the foot of the bed next to a clothed and composed Wanda. Every bone in your body wanted to run out of the room, but her intimidating demeanor had you locked in place.

She grabbed the back of your hair roughly, causing you to gasp. “Do you like it when mommy spanks your little ass?” She asked.

“N-no,” you whimpered.

“Really?” She asked before roughly pushing your face down until it was hanging just above the mess you’d left on the bed. “It sure looks like you did. Tell mommy the truth. Do you like it when I spank you?”

You whined, tears falling from your face and mixing with your cum. “Yes! Yes I like it when you spank me! Please mommy!”

“Lick it up,” she commanded.

“W-what?” You stuttered. She couldn’t seriously be asking for what you thought she was asking.

“You heard me. Lick. It. Up.” She repeated. “If you wanna make a little mess on my sheets, you're gonna clean it up yourself.”

You stuck out your tongue, licking the cum from the mattress. It was disgustingly salty, mixed with the tears that were continually streaming into it. You sobbed in embarrassment. You were certain you’d never been more humiliated in your life. Yet, you still felt your arousal growing.

“Oh?” She said, presumably noticing the arousal still building between your legs. “Is my little girl enjoying this too? Do you like it when mommy gets rough with you?”

Deciding this couldn’t get any worse, you just nodded.

Her grip on your hair loosened, switching instead to a soft stroking. “That’s a good girl,” she praised.

She gently pulled you back up from the mattress when she deemed it sufficiently clean. She pulled you to face her. “Let mommy have a taste.”

You hesitantly parted your lips, slowly meshing them with hers. She hummed contentedly, running her tongue along your own.

You grabbed her by the back of the neck, losing yourself in her. You stopped caring that you were naked and sobbing and pathetic.

Her hand fell from your hair to your chest. She pushed you backwards so hard you crashed on to your back on the mattress.

She crawled on top of you, kissing you again. You could feel her hands reach down to unbutton her jeans. You moaned into her mouth as her smooth bare legs met yours.

She straddled your waist, breaking the kiss to crawl further up your body.

“If just a taste from my panties made you squirt before,” she started, “I wondered what I can make you do with the real thing.”

[slut4sugu]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍- ( nsfw + sfw alphabet: Spencer Reid)

mentions of: sex positions, choking, of giving head, some slight fluff, but of an msub!spence

A- AFTERCARE (what he’s like after sex.)

Absolute sweetheart; immediately makes sure you drink water and draws you a bath while you rest. He comes to join you after putting a new set of sheets on your shared bed. “Don’t pout angel, im right here okay?”

Peppers kisses on your face and whispers old poems in your ear as you drift off to sleep.

B- BODY (his partners favorite body part.)

Spencer loves all of you equally; your breasts, your thighs, your ass, all of you. However if her was being honest with himself it would be your voice/ your face. Hearing and see you make such naughty noises with that love drunk look on your face was unfair. The

C- CUDDLING ( big spoon or little?)

both; tho he wouldn’t admit it he loves being the little spoon a bit more, not because he doesn’t like holding you. God does he ever, holding you calms any hypotheticals or concerns he has. Soothes his ever busy mind and makes him feel so at peace.

D-DICK SIZE (how big is he)

Yknow how they say it’s always the quiet ones? Yeah, spence is not anything small. He’s 7.5 soft 8.7 looks like 9 kinda when hard. Trimmed, and it’s flushed pink with a mushroom tip. Very sensitive on the underside of his shaft <33

E- EXPERIENCE ( how experienced is he?)

Now I have a strong belief in the fact that Spence here is a virgin, however that does not mean he’s entirely inexperienced. He might read a bunch of books but the if we’re talking biological books? You know he’s read atleast 200 of those alone. So let’s just say finding your g spot wouldn’t be as hard as your past ex boyfriends made it out to be.

F- FAVORITE POSITION( self explanatory.)

Missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, ie any position that lets him stare into your pretty eyes as he makes love to you.

G- GOOD ( how good are they in bed?)

9.9/10 only reason why spence isn’t a 10 is became he tends to stop mid thrust just to memorize your expression. You’ll literally be on the edge and he’ll just stop to get a good look of your euphoric expression. You almost think it’s partially because he likes hearing you beg for more, but he’d never admit that <3

H- HUGS ( how does he hug? )

in public a quick tight normal hug, usually only lasting 7 seconds but if it’s just you and the team it’s a bit longer. Or until Morgan starts to tease Reid. In private however it’s all types of hugs. Back hugs, bear hugs, princess twirl hugs, any hug there is he’s done it Atleast twice in the hour that he’s come home.

I- INTIMACY ( how romantic is he? )

Very. You know good and well that Spencer doesn’t just take sex as some spur of the moment kind of thing. Each time he makes love to you he makes sure to do just, make love to you. Not focus on his own orgasm, no. Your pleasure is his pleasure. He’s literally cum before just from eating you out.

J- JERK OFF (how often does he self pleasure?)

I’m a strong believer in the idea that he’s never really touched himself like that before until you came into the picture, he just didn’t see the point of it. But when he started having lewd thoughts about you that weren’t exactly professional. Once or twice a month was the norm for him.

K- KISS ( what’s it like kissing him?)

Sweet and methodical; time is something that Reid always takes slow with you. On days when he’s a bit pent up he still takes his time, however his tongue slips into your mouth a bit faster than usual.

L- LOCATION ( where does he like to do it )

In the comforts of his own home; listen while I LOVE the stories/fics of workplace sex w Spencer but I honestly just don’t think that would happen. Love the idea but would it happen, I honestly don’t think so. The most I’d think Spence would even do is finger you in a library under a table.

M- MOAN (moaner, grunter, whiner or begger?)

Spencer can be downright slutty when it comes to moans when he gets into it. Give him two bjs back to back and he’s as horny as a porn star. Whimpering, moaning, and begging for god knows what. It’s honestly surprising and such a turn on to see Dr. Spencer Reid with his head thrown back begging for more of you. Anywhere however, he just needs you now.

N- NO’s (turns off for him.)

Suggesting to do it in public, asking him to hurt you (now I don’t mean choking because done right I feel as though he’d be into it), asking him to degrade you, (his limit is probably calling you a needy slut)

O- ORAL ( does he like giving or receiving more? )

giving; that’s just a given. While the site of you on your knees for him is ethereal, he loves servicing you even more. The feeling of your thighs clamping around his head as you cum, your manicured hands gripping his hair. It’s all so…perfect.

P-PACE ( how fast is he ? )

It all depends on the situation: if you’re needy = deep, slow. If you been bratty = fast, but he’s edging you. If you’ve had a bad day? = whatever you want <3

Q- QUICKES ( self explanatory )

he’d only do this if he was in the middle of pleasuring you already; and he got a call from work when your on the edge of an orgasm/ close to one. What makes you clench impossibly tighter though is the fact that he’s still pumping his fingers in and out of your puffy cunt while discussing the basic details of the case with JJ. Purposely hitting that sweet gummy spot to make if harder for you to stay quiet <33

[dayasusays]

helloooo i hope you're fine:) can we have headcanons or one shot of husband bruce being jealous and overprotective with reader? smut pls 😮‍💨

HAWWO :3 SORRY FOR DELAY i’m completely fine tyyy!!! hope u’re too 💋

oh. OH… overprotective bruce… 🫣

i enjoyed writing this!!! really!!!

warnings ! — SMUT, headcanons, public sex (the restroom at his gala), fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne

summary ? — you made him jealous.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who needs to keep you in his sights during his gala because otherwise he'll worry.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who only gets distracted for a couple minutes, but you already find someone to talk to.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who grits his teeth when he sees some guy put his arm around your waist and pull you closer. and you don't even resist; you don't push him away, but you keep laughing and occasionally throwing non-ambiguous glances at bruce. oh, he gets it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who appears completely out of the blue behind your back, pulling you to him by the waist and whispering in your ear: “you have a new friend? how nice,” and leaves a brief kiss on your lobe while his head rests on your shoulder.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who knows you have your privacy, but right now he's unceremoniously invading it. and you love it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who slowly pulls you towards the restroom and never for a second removes his hand from your waist.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who leaves a ton of wet kisses on your neck, pressing his strong chest against your back. he can't resist little nibbles because you seem to have completely forgotten that you're married. married to a jealous man who will always find a way to show you that you belong to him.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who keeps whispering in your ear: “have you forgotten your place, love? right next to me so everyone can see that you're my wife,” his palms move down to the slit of your dress and stroke the inside of your thigh, “look at you. you're so fucking beautiful that everyone wants you to be with them,” god, you've always been amazed at how good he is at speaking.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always takes the time to fuck you whenever you decide to tease him. honey, you're playing with fire because he can fuck you anywhere, whether it's the batcave, the car, the restroom at a restaurant or his gala.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who doesn't waste any time when he enters you in one smooth thrust. you rest your hands on the sink, biting your lower lip and trying not to let out a loud moan, but he fills you so fucking well. “feels good, doesn't it? your husband's big cock inside,” bruce mutters, picking up the pace right away. he doesn't have time to mess around with you, my god, he has to go on stage in ten minutes to give a speech.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, holding you down while he fucks you. i mean, just look at him; it would be weird if he didn't. he'll never let you fall, holding you tight in his arms.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who takes exactly five minutes to bring you to orgasm. he knows the exact angle at which he hits your g spot with perfect force with each thrust, he knows what to say to make you clench around his cock even harder, he knows which places to kiss and bite to make you even more sensitive. your husband is a goddamn detective, and you both love and hate that fact.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who gives you a couple more thrusts, muttering angrily “he touched you so shamelessly and you did nothing,” his rough thrusts are almost torture because of your sensitivity after orgasm, “you won't get one more step away from me, princess, no one can touch you like that.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always comes after you, biting your shoulder.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who tidies you up in seconds by fixing your hair, dress and underwear; doesn't bother to clean you because “consider it a punishment, sweetheart. back home i'll be sure to do something about it.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who smiles slightly at your grumbling about how uncomfortable you'll be because the feel of his semen on the fabric of your underwear, while exciting, is still uncomfortable.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who will leave a brief kiss on your forehead and remind you that you're the one who made him jealous.

“you do it every damn time.”

“and you still fall for it.”

“little brat… love you,” bruce pulls you closer, his fingers gripping your waist a little harder as you pull him in and kiss him.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who spends the rest of the evening admiring the bites on your uncovered neck and shoulders. damn, he did it and he's so proud of himself. ୨♡୧

🦇 abt me | m.list

[urno1luv]

your sana works are soooo… so good 😵‍💫😵‍💫

could you do possessive sana jealous fucking r after finding out one of the other members may have a little crush on r? ><

here it is ♡ hope u like it!!

tags: possessive/obsessive behaviour, cunnilingus (😝), fingering, dubcon? thinly veiled threats towards tzuyu/nayeon (😔)

_________________________________________

The atmosphere in the dorm felt different tonight, tense and charged. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it until Sana walked into the kitchen where you were grabbing a late-night snack. Her expression was anything but her usual bubbly self—her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes sharper than you’d ever seen them.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying to keep the mood light. “Want some ramen?”

She ignored your offer, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. “I heard something interesting today,” she began, her tone measured but laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head. “Oh? What was it?”

Sana took a step closer, her presence almost suffocating in the small space. “Tzuyu has a crush on you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Tzuyu? She’s just being sweet. It’s nothing serious.”

Her jaw tightened at your response, and she placed her hands on either side of you, effectively trapping you between her and the counter. “It’s serious to me,” she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden proximity. “Sana, it’s really not a big deal. I didn’t even know about it until now.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” she said, her eyes boring into yours. “You don’t see how people look at you. How they want you.” Her voice wavered slightly, but the possessiveness was unmistakable.

She leaned in closer, her lips just a breath away from yours. “But they don’t get to have you. You’re mine.”

Your heart raced at her words, the intensity in her eyes pinning you in place. “Sana…”

“I mean it,” she continued, her voice softening but no less firm. “I don’t care who it is. No one gets to take you away from me.”

You reached up to gently cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re the only one I want, Sana.”

Her eyes searched yours for any trace of doubt, and when she found none, she finally relaxed—only for a moment. Then, a sharper glint returned to her gaze, and her grip on your waist tightened, as she led you to her room.

“Good,” she murmured, her tone dipping into something darker, more dangerous. “Because I’m not just saying this, you know. I mean it. You’re mine. And I’ll make sure everyone—everyone—knows it.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of her words settle over you like a heavy blanket. “Sana, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” she interrupted, her voice firmer now. “I’ve seen the way they look at you. And now that I know someone in our group thinks they can take what’s mine?” She shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t think so.”

Her hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, until they rested just under your jaw. She tilted your face up to meet her eyes, her thumbs brushing over your skin as if to stake her claim even further.

“I don’t care if it’s Tzuyu, Nayeon, or anyone else,” she said, her voice dropping to a near-growl. “If they think they can compete with me, they’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go to keep you.”

You shivered, unsure if it was from her words or the way her touch sent sparks through your skin. “Sana…”

Her lips finally met yours, urgent and unyielding, cutting off whatever protest you might have had. When she pulled back, her smirk was unmistakable, her confidence radiating off her in waves. She sat you down, rather forcefully, onto her bed.

“Let them try,” she said softly, her voice dripping with finality. “They’ll learn soon enough. You belong to me.”

She leaned forward, pushing you down, the bed creaking with the sudden move. In the dim light, you can only see her eyes glinting, her tongue licking her lips in a slow pace, letting you drink in all the details. Her kisses trailed down, lower and lower, her mouth pressing hot kisses against your soft skin. A whimper escaped you, and you could feel your egotistical girlfriend smirking into your belly, her slender fingers unbuckling the belt on your jeans.

Soon enough, her tongue pressed against your cunt, eliciting a small moan from you. She licked long stripes for a few seconds before plunging deep into you, fucking you with her tongue. You were a hot mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering you, face flushed red from her actions.

She got up and positioned you so you were sitting on her lap, her arm snakes around your waist, her fingers entering you, and you whined into her neck, ready feeling stuffed. Sana only kisses your head, not responding to your pleas to slow down, her wrist already dripping from your slick. "Sana, sto-... stop.. mm.." She narrowed her eyes, only for her to tighten her grip on you, her fingers curling as she fucks you. You stifle your sobbing and moaning, not wanting to stop her but at the same time feeling overwhelmed.

"My love, you're mine. Let me make sure you remember that."

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Seven

Steve squints at him, “like, right now? Right this second, you can hear Billy, he’s like, in your head?”

Do you think he’s finally getting it? We’ve been over this like, forty times.

“Yeah. Right now. He’s here.”

“Do you...are you having any urges to hit me over the head with a plate?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Right...and...does anyone else know?”

“Yeah, we told Max, and the little super hero just knew.”

Steve smiles, “right, of course she did.”

Finally.

It’s a lot for anyone to take in, alright? We’ve had ages to get used to it. Give him a minute.

“That’s...you’re talking to him, aren't you? I knew something was up, you get this like, cross eyed look on your face. You’re talking, inside your head?”

“Yeah.”

“I...oh. Can you tell him I’m...I’m really sorry about. Everything. The Mindflayer. I know it wasn’t him in control you know, I don’t blame him for anything,” Steve winces, “shit, he got hit by his own car. Fuck. I’m real sorry, can you tell him-”

“He can hear you. Don’t worry.”

“Right. Okay. Well, I’m sorry.”

I can’t believe he ever had me fooled. King Steve. Pffft what a joke.

Eddie snorts a laugh, “sorry he’s just-”

“Making fun of me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, kind of, sorry.”

I’m not sorry.

They sit quiet for a second, “so you, uhm, you were going to leave because of Billy, right?”

“It’s. I guess it’s a little complicated.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine Billy Hargrove is interested in watching us mack on each other.”

Don’t you dare.

Eddie sighs, so what can I tell him?

There’s nothing to tell, you bailed, not me.

Because you looked upset.

So? I’m not running the show any more, am I? It’s your life Munson, you should do whatever the fuck you like.

Not if it makes you upset.

“I’ll just...leave you guys to talk?”

Look, it doesn’t fucking matter, alright, you should just...have your happy ever after, or whatever the fuck it is you want.

Steve knows you’re there now...we could. Work something out? Maybe? The three of us?

Billy scoffs. As Steve walks by, Eddie grabs his hand, “just...sit with us a minute, I’m trying to work this out.” Can I at least tell him you like guys? So he knows it’s not that? That that isn’t your problem, I mean?

Fine.

“Billy likes guys and girls, he doesn’t care that we’re both guys.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s...good?”

I should have stayed. The bats were better company than this.

“Yeah, Steve, that’s good.”

They sit in silence for another few seconds.

“I mean, I like you Eddie, and I still want too,” he gestures vaguely, “but I get if it’s weird, you know? And you don’t...want to. Or...I would get it if Billy doesn’t want to? I figured he never really liked me, so I’d understand.”

Billy is suspiciously very silent.

“Why do you think he doesn’t like you?” Don’t you like him?

“Well he was always just...a bit of a prick, really.”

“He’s always a bit of a prick, it’s how he shows affection,” it’s a complete joke, Eddie doesn’t mean it at all, but the moment it’s out of his mouth he’s hit with a realization. Do you like Steve?

Shut up.

“Oh...he’s...I think he was mean to you because he liked you?”

Steve frowns, “what, like pulling my hair and running away? Did he...did he say that?”

“No. He’s being real quiet, and he’s never really quiet so that makes me think I’m right-” Oh my god. Yes. Fine. Happy now? “- I am right. Steve and Billy, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G-”

Billy sighs, real loud, really put upon. Steve blushes and looks at where Eddie is still holding his fingers.

“So...Billy likes you, and I like you, so are you still game for, you know, giving this thing a try?”

“Only if you’re both...sure?”

“I’m sure. Billy?”

Look, this isn’t up to me, you guys should just-

Eddie sighs, “Billy, come on.”

I- I mean I’m not exactly going to say no, am I? You’re hot. Harrington’s hot. I guess you’re both...okay.

Eddie grins, “you think I’m hot.”

Shut up.

“That’s so weird, you guys are...talking.”

“I can see him sometimes too, when I look in a mirror, he’s there with me. And I could,” Eddie feels himself blush, then fiddles with Steve’s fingers for a distraction, “I could feel it, when he touched me, but we haven't like- that’s only happened once, and it was kind of tingly. I couldn’t tell if it was like, in my head because I could see it or...you know? We haven't worked it out. Might just be my brain playing tricks.”

Steve thinks for a second, frowning, “the mirror in my en suite is a pretty decent size, you want to try?”

“Sure? Billy?”

Fine, whatever, Eddie can almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie relays.

Steve grins, “cool.”

When Steve leans forward and kisses him, Eddie’s sure he hears Billy rumble a pleased sound.

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

18. It means, my dear sister 💌

Spending money becomes a hobby when it doesn’t come out of your pockets.

“So what are you thinking of buying him?” You ask while sipping a bubble tea–the very drink that caused your descent into a comfortable pile of pillows.

Thoma runs a hand through his golden hair before scanning the clothing racks, “That’s why you’re here because, I have no idea.”

“And I’m supposed to know?”

He stops in his tracks, tilts his head, and squints. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You always can–Thoma is an open book, but something about his gaze makes you uneasy. He takes a sip of his drink and shrugs, “Two heads are better than one.”

You sigh and it’s not a breath of relief, “How about clothes?”

Thoma shakes his head in disapproval as he feels the fabric of a navy blue polo, “He has more luxury brands than I can count.” That’s not surprising considering the car Childe owns or the clothes he wears in his posts. You can tell he comes from a wealthy family both in love and money.

“Did you ask him what he wants?”

Thoma looks at you as if you were a failed experiment he had the consequence of cleaning after–synonymous with the expression he gives you every day so it’s no different, just exaggerated, “If he told me, I wouldn’t be here. He said, “Surprise me,” With what? A successful talking stage? A therapist?”

You chuckled, recalling the conversation you had a few hours ago. You surmise that the ginger is more of a provider than a receiver. Perhaps in all context, “I bet he’d like anything you give him.”

“He would. He’s like a golden retriever on crack. He’s a dumbass, but he’s funny so it cancels out. It reminds me of a time when he was practicing in the gym for a swim competition—and a girl walked in looking for something. He thought she was pretty so he started acting cool but in the locker room there was a huge rat and he came out screaming, “I’m not a pervert.”

You giggle with your brother whose head is thrown back from a fit of laughter. His free hand hovered over his stomach and his face was bright tomato. You recall the day it happened–how gorgeous Childe looked in the water and how silly he seemed running out for help. That was a throwback.

“That’s insane.”

He nods aggressively while catching his breath, trying to form the right words without coughing, “Exactly, but I think he’s hung up on that girl.”

“Really?” You act surprised.

“I just have a hunch.”

“Does he like that girl?” Maybe you shouldn’t have pressed. But when Childe is the subject of conversation you seem to want more, to know more, to see more.

Your brother thinks. You know that expression too well. Something he does as a habit every time he’s being witty, thinking of trouble, or giving you the best advice your parents couldn’t compare to. Finally, he finds his thoughts, “I’m not sure, he has a habit of getting attached and disconnecting. It’s happened before–multiple times.”

“Oh.”

The thing about the English language or any language for that matter is that there are words used interchangeably depending on the tone one uses–either surprise, disappointment, or disgust.

And the thing about Thoma is that he reads people, especially those he holds dear.

“But with her…” He begins, “It’s different. The way he talks about her is the same as when he talks about swimming–You can see the passion.”

That comforts you. It gives you hope, but too much of it is dangerous. Childe is a book everyone discusses with praise and you want to know why but a part of you dreads that once you do, you won’t like the ending. That you’ll be disappointed with the money and time you spent because the hype wasn’t for you.

But curiosity is human greed. And Childe is a conversation you want to have, “What does he say about her?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Because I’m scared of being disappointed again.

“I’m just curious—you made him sound like a playboy. Maybe the girl needs to be warned.”

“It’s not like he’s a bad guy. I just don’t want him or her to get hurt. Relationships aren’t easy—you know that.”

“What if…” You start, already regretting the question in your head. But Thoma looks at you expectantly, urging you to continue, “I started seeing someone like him… what would you say?”

“I’d say fuck him.”

“I’ve been trying to.”

He shoves you out of the store and you almost stumble next to a person.

“I’m joking! Give me a serious answer then.”

He crosses his arms and squints his eyes before raising a brow, “Why? Who’s this guy? What’s his name?”

You give him a look.

He matches it but he gives in, “Someone like Childe? There’s no one like him. As much as I shit on him, he has a good character, and I respect that. So I’d say unless you’re bringing the real one, don’t come home at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, my dear sister…” Thoma opens his mouth then shuts it close only to shake his head as if constricting himself, “Don’t worry about it.”

“What?”

He shrugs and says nothing more.

You follow your brother, pushing back the conversation you had despite the questions ramming your head every thirty seconds.

But when you pass by a cosmetic store, a new thought comes to mind.

“You should buy him skin care.”

NOTES:

👀👀 i’m on a roll with these updates

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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TAGLIST (OPEN): @thegalaxyisunfolding @stratusworld @tiramizuloz @miy-svz @trulyylee @batatinhafriita @scaradooche @yuminako @m1njizzie @mtndewbajablasted @fadedpinkpen @vavrin @kioffy @kokoomie @ashveil @tired-jaz @nia333 @riabriyn @kyon-cherri @kitsunetori @morgyyyyyyy @kazumiku @ichorstainedskin @hanilessa @s4ikooo1 @matolka @appy-slicez @monocerosei @mostlymoth @heathnyfangirl @meigalaxy @x-hihihi-x @lunaavity @ladyofpandemonium @coffeeisbehindyou @mentallyunpresent @wrangleanangel @littlesliceofcheese @ell1e2010 @vi0let-writes @strawbyan @blupi02 @eccendentesiast-sapphic @aixaingela @fo-love @mickey-d-luffy @nanfufu @cryoarchoness @li-x1nyu @crucnhice @jayzioxx @lumineskies @scalyalpaca @saechiro @tojisball @lulumallow @idkwhattoputasmyusernme

[m4dm4yhem]

(⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃ EARTH 42 MILES ROMANCE HCS

PAIRING: MILES G. MORALES X FEM READER

SUMMARY: RELATIONSHIP W/ MILES

INSPIRED BY: @cyb3rspyd3r

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

___________________________________________________

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU whenever you leave your phone with him when you leave the room, he’s going through.. in a way to make sure you’re behaving the way you promise him you are, to see what new numbers you have in your phone, to see if you talk about him with your friends, anything that shows him he isn’t wasting his time by being with you.. don’t mistake that for him not trusting you… he does, he’s just a nosy bastard.

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU his mood can be adjusted by the sheer sight of you, let’s say he’s mad about something.. maybe his counselor was feeding him bullshit about his future; that he needed to mention the fact he was struggling in order for colleges to give him any kind of time of day… that pissed him off, because who are you.. to tell him that he’s just a struggling poor kid but the second he laid his eyes on you.. he was smiling again, and forgot why he was mad in the first place

“ whatchu smilin’ all hard for?”

“ nothin… I just.. like being around you, mama.”

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU the littlest things will remind him of you, miles morales.. who is so in love with you.. that he once gave you a rock he found on the ground because it had a smooth front, and he remembered the time your arms were smooth after shaving.. that he couldn’t stop touching them, even when you wore long sleeves; he’d just sneak two fingers into your sleeve and run them down your arm.. it would usually be a surprise too..

“ eek- what! miles?! can you get your cold ass fingers off me.. please..”

“ mami.. c’mon, you feel so good though.. like a countertop or sum.”

“ boy… you stupid if that’s the only thing you can compare it too..”

“ stupidly in love with you.. that’s the only thing I’m stupid in.. don’t play with me before I fuck you up.”

“ nigga.. miles shut the fuck up, you ain’t touching me niggatron..”

“ …”

“ yeah exactly..”

“ oh, no.. trust.. I will take care of that attitude.. but what the fuck is a niggatron..?”

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU that he takes pride in being your ‘ mini me’ every single saying that you have said around him; he’s said it around his friends, his uncle, everyone.. it just slips out, like one time he accidentally said one thing you say quite often around his uncle, after his uncle

“ girl..you did not eat that.. you thought you did, but I still see the lil ceasar’s hot and ready on the table.. why is that?”

“ nigga what?”

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU he never says no to you, whatever you want.. he will get it.. if it’s within his budget.. he’s fifteen years old not a sugar daddy, as well as the fact his mother is struggling with the bills so most of his money goes towards her; but with the extra money she refuses to take from him.. you’re spoiled with it.. if he hears you need a new lip liner, he’s asking what color.. suggesting a reddish brown or a black, his favorite colors on you.. if you want a new stuffed animal he’s buying one from the nearest store, while he usually has to stretch his dollar, and most trips are made with him asking you which one you need more.. a teddy bear.. or chick fil a, and he gets whichever one you want more.

“ mama..”

“ you can’t rush perfection, miles! I’m thinking..”

“ girl.. perfection? I asked you if you wanted ice cream now or chipotle later..”

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU he tells everyone who will listen all the wonderful things about you.. and by wonderful I mean everything you did.. whenever his girlfriend is mentioned or the possibility of hanging out with someone who isn’t you.. he will start yapping about you

“ hey man.. you coming over to TJ’s? we gon be playing basketball.. and then going down to the mall.. “

“ nah man, my girl said she wanted to come over tonight.. meet my ma n shit..”

“ man.. didn’t you have your girl over last night too? “

“ yeah .. she comin to meet my mami tonight though.”

“ she couldn’t have met her last night?”

“ my ma be at work.. ion think she even remember me telling her about my girl, to be honest with you mane.”

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU he steals his uncle’s car to see you late at night, he knocks on your window at two in the morning, because his uncle is working… not a normal job but that job, so he drives over there.. illegally may I add; since he’s 15, he only has his learners. he does this just to lay in bed with you, to spoon you and tell you how much he loves you.. how much he lives for you

“ I love you.. so much, [name] you make my life.. so easy.. so tolerable.. I’m not as.. sad and depressed now that you’re with me, I love staying and being with you. you make my world brighter, you make my life better.. I love you, I can’t imagine a world with you.. cariño..”

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU he asked you to marry him one day, he had gave you a plastic ring he got from one of those coin machines when he was going to wash clothes with his mom; he had got a pretty one that had a plastic gem shaped into a heart.. he told you how much he valued you.. how much he cared, how he never wanted to lose you.. how he knew you two were only teenagers.. but he wanted to be with you forever nonetheless.

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU that he has your face plastered on every social media platform he has, your face is his profile picture on the very few he has. ( instagram, twitter, & tiktok.. he has snapchat too, where the main things he posts are just recycled videos he already sent you, and a private story with all the girls he knows has a crush on him added, and he just show cases your love)

MILES MORALES WHO IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU after the first date, he walked into his room with a big grin on his face. you two had went to the aquarium, and he saw a shark plushie he wanted but didn’t have enough money for.. and you had bought it for him.. no hesitation.. he was so in love with you in that moment.. that he had named it after you.

“ I don’t give a fuck if this shark a boy.. his name gon be [name] today.”

overall.. he’s just so in love with you.. he’d do whatever it takes to make sure you know he loves you.

[starkeyisthelastname]

Can you do bf!Rafe fingering reader pls xx

Do I sound like an idiot for asking if this means best friend Rafe or boyfriend Rafe? I’m going to assume best friend, but I could be so wrong. 😅 I’ll write it again if differently. ❤️

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. Was it the Gruaud Larose 1945 from dinner? Or the joint you two had shared after sneaking off from the table as your families chatted amongst themselves? There was something in the air that night as the two of you sat outside, laughing at something stupid Topper had done the day before. Maybe it was because you sat closer to him than usual, or maybe it was the way his eyes raked over your lips more than usual. It could have been the fact that both you had feelings for one another that you couldn’t deny anymore and the closer you sat and the more he looked at you leading you two where you were now.

“Rafe..” You breathed out, sitting on your elbows as the thick fingers of your best friend slid in an out of your sopping hole.

He was kneeled before you, something you never thought Rafe Cameron would do. He glanced up at you with those cerulean eyes and a handsome face. “What beautiful?” He hummed, curling his fingers against your g-spot.

You wanted to tell him to stop. That your friendship was going to be ruined if you both kept going. It was as if he knew exactly where to touch you, leaving you at a loss for what to say anymore.

“Shit…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He mumbled, it taking all of him not to completely ruin your perfect pussy.

You couldn’t help but stare at him as he was between your legs. As much as you were afraid to ruin your friendship with him, he looked like he belong down there. Before you could stop your thoughts, the words were leaving your mouth.

“Kiss me.” You whispered, causing his movements to stop.

He let out a chuckle, fingers not leaving your cunt as he slowly stood up. Without hesitation, he leaned down towards your lips and captured them sweetly in a kiss. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, the feeling indescribable as he moved his tongue with yours.

“You are such a good girl for me. Yeah?” He whispered between kisses, his fingers pulling out only to slam them back in.

You let out a small gasp, not only from his movements but his voice. Something about the way his tone was, had your tummy fluttering and pussy clenching around ringed fingers.

“Fuck.. pretty girl. Make that pussy cry for me.” Your best friend husked between your lips, making you gush around his digits.

[mywhisperingwords]

the end of the beginning | fred g. weasley

summary: the new year is perfect to leave behind the past and start a new beginning word count: 1.9k masterlist

The Burrow was alive with music, chatter, and bursts of laughter. People moved through the crowded living room, glasses clinking as they toasted to the year that had been and the one yet to come. You were here because you had to be. That was what you told yourself, anyway.

Ginny had insisted, Molly had pleaded, and even George had joined in on the cajoling. You had no good excuse not to come. So here you were, holding a drink you’d barely touched, hovering near the window where the cold air seeped through the glass and pricked at your skin.

Fred was across the room. Of course he was.

You hadn’t spoken to him in months—not properly, at least. There had been plenty of chances, fleeting moments where his gaze caught yours across a room or his voice reached your ears in passing. But you’d always looked away, kept your words clipped and impersonal. He hadn’t exactly tried to stop you.

That was what stung the most.

“Not joining the fun?” George’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. He sidled up next to you, his expression unreadable.

“I’m fine here,” you said, your tone too curt to be convincing.

George hummed, his eyes drifting toward Fred. “He’s been acting weird all night, you know. Nervous, jumpy. Unusual for him.”

You didn’t respond, but your grip tightened around your glass.

George gave you a look, one that said he knew exactly why you weren’t replying. “You’re both being stubborn, you know that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, turning away.

“Sure you don’t.” George’s tone was light, but there was an edge to it. “Well, you’ve got about an hour to figure it out before the clock strikes twelve. Don’t waste it.”

Before you could say anything, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The next hour passed in a blur of meaningless conversations and forced smiles. Every time you caught sight of Fred, your stomach twisted, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go near him.

It wasn’t until the countdown loomed close that you found yourself cornered—literally.

You’d been trying to avoid the throng gathering near the fireplace for the countdown when you turned a corner and almost collided with Fred. He froze, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burned with something you couldn’t name.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, stepping back.

“Don’t be,” he said, his voice low. “It’s been a while since we’ve been this close, hasn’t it?”

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his gaze locking onto yours. “But can we… I mean, do we really have to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?” you asked, though you both knew exactly what he meant.

Fred hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Pretending like nothing happened.”

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could respond, the room erupted into noise.

“Ten!”

The countdown had begun, and the voices of everyone around you drowned out whatever you might have said.

Fred didn’t move. He didn’t break eye contact.

“Nine!”

You felt the weight of his words, of everything unsaid between you, pressing down like a physical thing.

“Eight!”

For a moment, you thought about running. About slipping out the door and disappearing into the night. This situation between you didn’t feel like your fault at all.

“Seven!”

But Fred shifted closer, his presence impossible to ignore.

“Six!”

“We’ll talk,” he said suddenly, his voice almost lost in the cacophony. “After this. Okay?”

“Five!”

You nodded, unsure if you even had a choice.

“Four!”

Fred’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Good.”

“Three!”

Your heart pounded, your mind racing with a thousand things you wanted to say but couldn’t.

“Two!”

And then, just as the final number came, Fred leaned in close. His voice, soft and steady, cut through the chaos like a secret meant only for you.

“One.”

The room erupted. Cheers and laughter filled the air, fireworks bursting in vivid colors just beyond the windowpanes. The noise swelled, but it all seemed distant, muted, like you were underwater.

Because Fred kissed you.

It wasn’t hurried or hesitant—it was deliberate, certain, and heartbreakingly warm. For a fleeting moment, you froze, the weight of his lips on yours both unexpected and overwhelming. But as the initial shock ebbed, instinct took over. Your hand found its way to his chest, your lips pressing back against his, and the world around you melted away.

It ended far too soon, his forehead resting lightly against yours as his hands lingered at your waist. His breath mingled with yours, still catching up to the moment, while the noise of the party receded into a distant hum.

“You’ve been avoiding me all year,” he murmured, his voice low but heavy with emotion. There was no accusation, just an edge of something raw and unspoken.

You hesitated, the rapid thrum of your heart drowning out the noise around you. “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me,” you whispered back, barely able to meet his gaze.

Fred’s forehead lifted from yours, his brows knitting in confusion. “Why in Merlin’s name would you think that?”

The hurt in his tone sent a pang through your chest. You blinked, trying to piece together an answer that didn’t make you sound entirely ridiculous. “Because of what happened. Because of—”

Fred sighed, his hand dragging down his face before resting at his side. “You still don’t know, do you?” His voice was quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself. “It wasn’t what you thought.”

Your stomach twisted at the vulnerability in his words. “What wasn’t what I thought?” you asked, your voice rising slightly with confusion and frustration.

Fred hesitated, his jaw tightening as he rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes locked onto yours, soft but filled with the weight of months left unsaid. “That day… in the Great Hall.”

And just like that, the memory hit you, sharp and vivid, as if it had been waiting for this exact moment to resurface.

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual pre-class energy, the clatter of silverware and hum of voices blending into a comforting white noise. You sat a few seats down from Fred and George at the Gryffindor table, absently nibbling on a piece of toast as your fingers turned the pages of your notes.

But something felt off. A tension hung in the air, subtle but sharp enough to prickle at the edges of your awareness.

Then you heard it—Fred’s voice, low and edged with frustration.

“She’s been driving me mad lately,” he muttered to George, stabbing his scrambled eggs with unnecessary force.

Your hand stilled, hovering over the page. Was he talking about you?

You tilted your head slightly, trying not to look too obvious as you strained to catch the rest of the conversation. But the hall’s noise swallowed George’s reply. Heart thudding in your chest, you shifted closer, abandoning any pretense of focus on your notes.

Fred huffed, shoving his plate aside. “It’s not that simple, George. She’s… exhausting.”

The word slammed into you like a bludger to the chest.

George’s laugh broke through the din, light and teasing. “Oh, right. How dare she exist and make you fall for her.”

Fred didn’t respond immediately, but his ears turned a deep shade of red—a telltale sign of embarrassment.

You tried to tell yourself they couldn’t possibly be talking about you. There were plenty of other girls Fred might find annoying, weren’t there? But as the conversation carried on, doubt began to creep in, coiling tight around your chest.

“Honestly,” Fred muttered, his voice quieter now, “I don’t even know why I bother. It’s not worth it.” He ruffled his hair in agitation, his hand lingering in the mess of red strands.

Your stomach twisted painfully, the toast on your plate now tasting like ash. Your vision blurred, hot tears threatening to spill over.

Fred Weasley—funny, kind, and someone you had thought of as your closest friend, maybe even more than a friend—had never seemed so far away.

You swallowed hard, pushing back your chair with a scrape that cut through the noise of the hall. Heads turned, and Fred’s eyes shot up to meet yours. His expression shifted instantly, his lips parting as if to say something.

“Hey—” he began, his voice soft, almost pleading.

But the hurt had already taken root, and you weren’t about to let him see just how deeply it had cut.

“Don’t bother,” you said, your voice like ice, though it wavered slightly on the edges.

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, and strode out of the Great Hall, each step feeling heavier than the last. You refused to look back, even as George’s voice echoed faintly behind you.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Fred sighed, his hand still resting on your cheek, his touch warm and grounding despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. His thumb traced a soft, hesitant circle against your skin, like he was afraid you might pull away.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice quiet but earnest. “I was an idiot for letting you walk away without explaining.”

You crossed your arms, though the vulnerability in his eyes made it harder to keep your guard up. “So what did you mean, then?” you asked, your tone sharp but your voice softer than you intended.

Fred groaned, dragging a hand through his hair in that familiar, frustrated way that made it stick up in every direction. “I meant…” He hesitated, glancing away before forcing his gaze back to yours. “I meant you drive me mad because I can’t stop thinking about you. Because every time you walk into a room, it’s like my brain short-circuits, and I forget what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice rooting you to the spot.

“And yeah, you’re exhausting,” he continued, a self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips. “But only because I’m constantly trying to figure out how to get your attention without looking like a complete fool.”

The weight of his words sank in, every syllable dissolving the knot that had been twisting in your chest for weeks. You blinked, caught somewhere between disbelief and relief, unsure of how to respond.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Fred added, his voice dropping to a whisper. His hand fell from your cheek, but only to grasp your hand, his fingers lacing with yours like he couldn’t bear to let you go. “I was frustrated with myself, not you.”

You stared at him, his confession leaving you speechless. The boy who was always so quick with a joke, so effortlessly charming, was now baring his soul in front of you—and it was both overwhelming and disarming.

“You’re such an idiot,” you said finally, but your words lacked any bite, your voice laced with a quiet fondness instead.

Fred’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, his eyes lighting up with something dangerously close to hope. “Yeah,” he said with a small chuckle, “but I’m your idiot.”

A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, but you didn’t let him off the hook just yet. “You’re going to have to work on that apology,” you said, though your tone had softened.

Fred leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. His voice was low and filled with an unspoken promise. “Don’t worry. I’ve got all year to make it up to you.”

[jade-jini]

yunjin is the only thing i can honestly think off 😭 also i’d love to see how y/n and loser g!p yunjin got together 🤭

(Look at this cute thing, I’m weak for her)

WELL OFC DEAR ANON lol. So continuing with how our loser g!p Yunjin and reader became all lovey dovey (sorry if it’s too long and if it took too long 😭) THIS IS ALL FLUFF.

As I mentioned, you guys are in the same program so you see her during class and often around campus, mostly just exchanging a few hi’s and comments about class stuff but it never became more than those short conversations. Yunjin can be a very outgoing loser, with her silly jokes and cute pickup lines and constant compliments. She was a sweet girl! Just didn’t feel brave enough to make a more bold move just yet:(. Sakura would always be like “NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT?!” And she’d be like “NEVER GIVE UP!” But then when she has the chance to turn her flirt into something else she panics and goes🧍🏻‍♀️

She was getting brave tho, she really was! Until that stupid jock mf had to ruin all the confidence she (and Sakura) has been working so hard to build. This guy was into you. At first he really thought Yunjin didn’t have a chance because how could a loser have one? but then he noticed how you’d giggle like an idiot with Yunjin and his brain went “danger 😐” so like a fvckin asshole the only thing he thought was to make Yunjin afraid to make any move at all, hurting her self esteem.

It was during a morning that she hadn’t see you around yet. She always looks forward to the classes you shared, and when she didn’t see you in your seat as always, she was so confused ‘cause you tended to be on time. She still had hopes that you’d eventually show up. However, her confusion turned into disappointment and sadness when half the class passed and you were nowhere to be found. Yunjin knew she was being dramatic but c’mon! Seeing you is her favorite part of the day :( she spent the rest of the class resting her chin on her books with a pout. Eunchae saw her friend and thought she looked like a sad puppy, she thought it was cute and funny but also had sympathy for her friend. During the little break they had before their next class that was in the same room, she tapped Sakura’s shoulder to get her attention.

“Yunjin unnie looks like a lost puppy when y/n is not around I swear” she told her while trying not to laugh. The eldest turned her head to her red hair friend and sighed with a smile as she shook her head.

“She kinda is if you think about it, I guess” she told the youngest, who couldn’t contain a laugh from escaping her lips. This caused Yunjin to look up to her friends with a frown.

“It’s not fair, why isn’t she here?!” Yunjin started, fixing her posture “Y/n doesn’t tend to miss class, and if she didn’t come to this one she might as well just miss the rest of the day and the classes we have together… ” she complained with a cute pout, but unfortunately somebody heard their conversation.

“Like you would know, wouldn’t you creep?” The guy said, while looking at the girl with a sarcastic smile (Idk bro picture a kpop boi here if you want ig-). “God you spy on her so much you know her schedule? AND you wanna talk like you’re close with her and know what she would do. You’re such a weirdo, that’s exactly why she wouldn’t look at you, you know?” He said with that disgusting mean tone, like he himself knew you any better.

Yunjin was surprised, she knew this guy and knew he wasn’t friendly specially with well, people who didn’t share his exact interest (aka if you’re a nerd), but she wasn’t expecting him to talk to her at all let alone insult her like that, I mean she has gotten kinda bullied before when she was younger but she has done her best to either ignore these people or to defend herself, to which her friends helped a lot.

“And who the fuck are you to talk to her like that?-” Eunchae started but Sakura stopped her grabbing her arm, making sure the girl didn’t start any trouble. The man just put his hands up and laughed.

“I’m just saying, y/n is way out of your league bro, you’re embarrassing yourself and most likely making her feel uncomfortable. Do you enjoy doing that?”

“I would never do that!” Yunjin was offended, she didn’t have any bad intentions with you. Did she cross any boundary? You would tell her though right? You looked like somebody who knew how to speak for yourself well enough, she’s seen it. “I’d never do that intentionally, and I’m sure she would tell me. So far she hasn’t shown any discomfort in any moment we’ve talked.” she said trying to sound a little more confident, mostly to also convince herself you actually didn’t dislike her.

“she’s just too nice to let you know!” He answered as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. “And who knows, maybe she laughs behind your back at your behavior and that’s why she keeps you close.” He finished before walking out of the room, not letting any of the girls talk back (Lord and Sakura know Eunchae was ready to curse Tf outta him) and leaving a mess in Yunjin’s head, filling it with a lot of insecurities and doubts. Girlie was gonna be overthinking about you all day and not in the sweet cheesy way she always does :(

“What. An. Asshole!” Eunchae exclaimed, getting a scold from kkura for the language “no I’m serious what’s wrong with him?? Who does he think he is?! Asshole…”

“Hong Eunchae!” Sakura said in a serious tone, making the girl simply huff and sit down with crossed arms and a pout (Manchae my kid). “Yunjini? Are you ok?” She asked in a softer tone while sitting in her chair next to her friend, who had such a sad and pensive expression “don’t pay no mind to that guy, he doesn’t know you and I seriously doubt he knows y/n.”

“Yeah exactly!” The youngest said “he’s probably just jealous that you always make y/n laugh.”

“Yeah but is it a ‘you’re so funny I’m enjoying this’ laugh or a ‘you’re pathetic and embarrassing’ laugh? Now I don’t know…”

“She’s not a bad person, unnie. You wouldn’t like her if she was, right? But if you’re feeling insecure, let’s see her behavior carefully and maybe we’ll be able to tell.”

the tall girl sighed, resting her head on her books again. Eunchae and Sakura just looked at each other (the oldest patting her friend’s head), not sure how else to comfort their friend, but hoping next time she sees you something good happens and you somehow get those thoughts out of her head.

——

Meanwhile, you decided to miss a class and went to this store you found online where they sell different types of merch about video games, animes, stuff like that, to buy some cool genshin impact photocards you saw online. You knew two things; 1. Yunjin liked that game a lot, and 2. She was probably not gonna make a move to get closer any time soon lol so you decided to give the game a try, and liked it a lot! And now you’re gonna buy some photocards for her as well as a way of making more conversation and getting closer.

Once you got them, you quickly put a Genshin Yunjin one on your phone case (some selfies for social media Ofc) and decided to finally go to class, excited to show this girl that you were basically crushing on the gift you got for her.

Your second class of the day was luckily one with Yunjin, so you were hoping to make it on time to talk with her a little bit before it started, and so you did! But weirdly, you caught the girl on her seat, very quiet while the friends of her who also shared this class seemed a little worried and empathetic with whatever was going on with the red hair girl. You took your seat close to them and waved hi to her friend, whose name if you remember well was Sakura. With a sign you asked her if Jen was ok, to which she replied with a “so-so” sign and a little smile. You nodded sympathetically and decided to maybe wait until later on the day to talk with her, now feeling slightly nervous yourself to make any move. However, while you were considering this option, kkura thought seeing you might cheer her friend up, so she elbowed Yunjin and let her know that you were in the room.

Once the girl looked at your direction, there was a sparkle in her eyes, the one that always appeared whenever she saw you or thought of you. However, once she remembered the mean words the idiot from earlier told her, her smile turned into a more shy, sad small one, and her eyes went to the floor.

“Yunjin? You’re not gonna say hi to her like always?” The Japanese girl asked her in a low voice, trying to motivate her dear friend.

“I don’t know, Kkura..” the sad girl said “What if I just make her feel uncomfortable? What if that’s what I’ve been doing? That’s not only embarrassing, but also not fair for her to feel like that, and not fair for me to keep my hopes high if I’m clearly out of her league. I don’t wanna get even more hurt and also I—”but your voice interrupted her sad rambling.

“Hey Yunjin, Look what I got!” You called, smiling that pretty smile of yours and showing her the back of your phone, hoping this somehow will help cheering her up. And it did! Yunjin’s expression went from sad, to surprised that you called, to excited.

“Oh. My. God. Is that a Genshin Impact special edition Yun Jin photocard ?!” She said in her peculiar loud voice and with a smile showing her perfect teeth. There. There it was. The excited and loud loser who caught your attention. “Omg, y/n! How did you get this? I didn’t even know you liked Genshin!”

“Well, constantly hearing you screaming about it made me curious!” You teased her while laughing, to which she blushed but didn’t stop smiling while listening to you “it was just a few days ago so I’m very new, I actually enjoyed it a lot so I decided to search info about the characters online, and went this morning to this cool store I found to buy some of these.”

“So that’s why you weren’t here earlier” Sakura commented, making you look at her a little surprised.

“Oh you noticed?”

“Yunjin did.” Eunchae answered while looking at her friend with a mischievous smile, to which Yunjin responded with a blush, a threat in her eyes and a promise for vendetta later. “She missed you and everything.”

“Eunchae!” She simply groaned, pouting at the embarrassment her friend made her go through. But to you it was actually really cute the fact that she noticed your absence.

“Well, please accept these as an apology then.” You said while getting the little bag that contained the other photocards and giving it to her. She was so surprised because a gift. For her? From you?! “I didn’t know who your favorite character was so I made sure to get as many as possible. Please take as many as you want, I mainly got them for you to be honest.” You admitted, feeling brave to confess your intentions, even with her friends around.

“Oh my~ this is so cute!” Eunchae squeaked while shaking Yunjin’s shoulder (visual representation), while the girl was just speechless holding the bag you gave her and switching from looking at it to looking at you, who couldn’t stop smiling, satisfied at her reaction while your hands were politely behind your back in a cute shy way. Of course, Sakura had to push her to get out of her shocked state. Yunjin shook her head to bring herself back before speaking.

“Omg y/n, I don’t know what to say, thank you so much!” She said, feeling touched by the detail. Yunjin was looking at you with such sweet eyes, you were making her fall deeper for you, and she didn’t know that’s exactly your plan.

“It’s ok. Just please make sure to leave some Yun Jin for me, she’s my favorite character you know?” You told her in a clearly flirty way and a wink, making sure the message was clear. This made the red hair girl’s eyes open wide as her face had no idea what to do, besides blushing and smiling like an idiot.

“Hehe, Yunjin unnie’s face is trying to match her hair.” Eunchae teased, making you and Sakura laugh at the taller girl.

“Hong Eunchae I swear to God.”

——

After that conversation, the professor entered the classroom, so you quickly agreed on hanging out after class to continue talking about your interest in common. Sakura had a class, and Eunchae went with her after mentioning she was grateful to be able to go ‘cause she didn’t want to third wheel you guys anymore, earning another groan and blush from her best friend. Talking with Yunjin was really nice, and she was really hyped and happy about sharing this topic, so much she decided to invite you to her place so you could continue there, watch some content and even play a little bit! She was excited of being able to teach none other than her crush how to play her favorite game.

Of course she didn’t realize the weight of her actions until you were actually in her room.

Oh god. Her crush was in her room. Alone with her.

Girlie went from excited to nervous once she saw you making yourself comfortable in her bed. Her bed was really soft and warm, and her room was cozy. It reflected her personality well. A nice combination of beige walls and white. Most of the room had warm colors, and the decoration was based on some posters, little shelves with albums and books, pictures and figures of video-games characters the girl was a fan of. She was very organized and clean, her desk having her computer and just a couple notebooks at the moment. You hoped you could spend more time there with her in the future (and no not only for the nasty 🤨).

“This is a really nice place Yun” you told her.

“Thanks, that’s one of the reasons I like spending so much time at home.” She said with a giggle doing her best to contain the blush in her cheeks because did you just call her by a nickname?😳 bro do it again.

“I get it, if my room was this nice and comfy I too would prefer to just stay and play all day.” You said as she lied down next to you.

“Well, you can always come and play with me!” She offered smiling innocently (aw my pookie wookie 🥺), but c’mon you had to tease her after saying that-

“You want me to come play with you, huh?” You said with an obvious teasing tone and a smirk moving your eyebrows up and down, now making it impossible for the red hair girl to not match her cheeks color with her hair.

“I mean! It’s always fun to play genshin with friends…” she said, trying to save herself from the embarrassment, but she felt it was too late so her hands went to her face as she groaned in a low voice. You laughed. She was so endearing, so cute. You couldn’t resist her and she wasn’t even trying to do anything at all. This is the girl you wanted. It just felt too right. It felt like home in your heart even before it did in your head.

“You remember I told you Yunjin is my favorite genshin impact character?” You asked her, taking her hands off her face but not letting go of them, to which she hummed in response. “And do you know why she is my favorite character?”

“Well, her playability in my opinion is really good. Her design and character description is also captivating, and since you mentioned you’re new to the game maybe that’s the reason you liked her. Although I must say I pr—” god this girl could talk. So what’s better than shutting up your crush with a kiss? Nothing bro. Nothing so that’s what you did. With a sweet kiss that she was doing her very best to correspond once the initial shock passed, as she’s been dreaming of doing since the moment her eyes fell on you. Your hand moved slowly from her own hands to her face, caressing it softly as her trembling hand went to your waist. As the seconds passed, her hands felt more comfortable, so she hugged you closer to her, to which you responded hugging her as well. Once you stopped kissing ( barely leaving any space in between your faces), you whispered in her lips “so again, do you know why Yunjin is my favorite character?”

And with her vision blurry and her mind clearly malfunctioning because of everything that was happening (but can you blame her tho?) she said:

“Who’s Yunjin?”

Bro are you serious.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 8: It's a natural progression

genre: will ever write something not angsty?

word count: 6793

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you and spencer finally give into the tension that's been growing between you, but what happens now?

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

I decided to give you all a pause from Abigail because we're now turning into an Abigail Hater Club HAHAH

This is the third time you’re saying this, but you’ll keep saying it until Spencer hears you. “I am not relocating.”

“Y/N, if she found out where you are, we need you to be somewhere else,” Spencer groans, but you have no mercy on him; not this time. Not after everything. 

His hair is pointing everywhere, surely from the way your stubbornness is making him tug at it like he needs the sting on his scalped to remind him to focus. It’s been almost thirty minutes of you two arguing, and this isn’t exactly the conversation you wanted to have when you first woke up that morning. In fact, you could have lived your entire life without having this conversation and you would probably have been a very, very happy woman. Alas, things never really seem to go your way even when they are going right. And right now, you are far, far away from things going right. 

“I am not going to relocate!” You say again, exasperation getting to you the more he insists. Now, your hands are flying around you and it’s like you two have switched places for a second– while he seems tense and immobile, you are gesticulating like crazy, trying to make a point with your entire body; you are not leaving. “I’m done relocating! I’m done being am active case that doesn’t move on! I’m done being thrown around like a doll! Maybe that’s her end game, Spence– have you thought of that?! That she gets some sort of… of… sadistic satisfaction from seeing me squirm away every single time!” You cry out, brows furrowed in frustration. Nothing is making sense to you, and your anger only grows. Why is he so okay with sending you away like it means nothing to you? Why is he not using that big, beautiful brain of his to find other solutions than just rid of you? “I can’t keep running! I can’t keep stopping my life anymore, Spence, I can’t! I–“ 

An odd sense of coldness comes down on you, like a wave crashing against the walls of your stomach, spreading through your veins, cooling down your stressed out brain. It takes you a little while, but you finally understand. You understand his hesitation, his silence, and you understand it as an answer. “I’ll go home,” You mumble, looking down at your hands. They laid lifeless on your lap, almost like they are now tired from all the talking through them. “Yeah, I– I think that’s the best idea. It’ll be relocating, right? I’ll g back home. You must be tired of me here, anyways, and–“

“Don’t.” 

The ice in his voice startles you enough to have you scoffing. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t make this about something that it isn’t,” His voice is in that whisper-scream pitch that you’ve heard him using with other people. Never you, though. Spencer never got this aggravated with you before, not even when you kept leaving your tea bags inside your empty mugs until they were dry. This, the way he is talking right now, is beyond annoyance. This is anger. Spence is angry at you and that doesn’t make you feel any better. “I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

“The give up already,” You whisper back, slowly getting up from where you’re sitting. “Because I’m not going anywhere that is not my own apartment across the street.” 

The package is still sitting on his counter, and you hate that you can feel it burning deep in your soul. At first, he didn’t want you looking at it, trying to keep you away, but you don’t like when you Spencer keeps secrets and you just push away his hand that is reaching for you. This sounds a bit insane, now that you think back to it, but when you first see the book cover, so familiar you can quote some of its content, you laugh. It’s a daring move, but an effective one– Kill Me If You Can, by James Patterson and Marshall Karp, is all about the chase. And all about the run. “That fucking bitch,” You whisper to yourself, grabbing the book and opening it to the cover page, where her inscription would obviously be– Dear Y/N, Check-mate. What now? XOXO Cat.

You’ve never hurt a book before, but you have half a mind to rip that one to shreds with your bare hands. 

“No, no, no, you are relocating and that’s the end of it.” 

To Spencer, you are the sweetest of the sweets– sugar pours out of your lips and he had the pleasure to taste it. No way he will risk losing that now, not before he can have a chance to douse himself in them. But every time you cuss, every time you frown, he swears that sugar gets the slightest hint of bitterness, and every time he blushes because of it, every time he lets out a sharp exhale with his eyes fixated on you, he can’t help but wonder how well that bitterness would mix in with your sugar. 

Right now, though, you are about to get downright rotten. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Spencer Reid?” His full name sounds wrong when you feel this pissed off. “You’re not my dad!” 

“No, I’m not your dad, I’m your boyfriend, and I’m trying to keep you safe!” This time he screams; he truly, really screams, neck veins popping out and face reddening with the strength of his words. Spencer revels yet another side of himself to you. “I’ve lost enough, okay?! I’ve lost enough… First Maeve, then Gideon, and, a-and, and now you– I can’t lose you! You can’t die, you can’t die on me, and it’s like you keep trying to! You refuse to cooperate, you-you are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, and you’ll drive me insane! So please, don’t… don’t let me lose you…” 

The way his voice dies out should’ve been enough to get you to quiet down, but tensions are high and now you feel like you’ve just been hit with a brick to the face.

“You’re my what?!” 

This is news to you, though it doesn’t seem to be news to him. You’ve been dreaming of hearing that word slipping from his mouth, you won’t lie, but not like this. Not in a fight, and your first fight at that. 

Spencer seems shocked at your surprise, and you two go quiet for the first time in what feels like hours. 

“Am… Am I not?” You are still in awe of how Spencer can go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. A second ago, he looked like he was about to rip his hair out of his head and now he was back tohis normal bright, wide eyes and fidgeting hands. Whiplash isn’t enough to describe how you’re feeling, staring at him with your mouth hanging open, willing for words to come out but failing every single time. “Oh god, I’m not. I’m sorry, I just assumed that after last night we–“

“Wait, stop, stop, stop!” You shriek, hands going up to cover your face. “I need a second to think!”

“No, you don’t, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, just forget everything I said, I just–“

“I might not have an eidetic memory, but I don’t think I can ever forget what you just said,” You breathe out, hands shaking as you pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Spence… you thought we were dating?”

This has him paralysed. “That’s what you want to talk about? Right now? After everything I said?”

“I want to talk about everything,” You do, you really do; but you need to get this out of your chest right now. You need to start clean. “But we need to talk about this first… because I need to know how to act when we get to the rest of it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Spence, we kissed,” You whisper, hands sliding down your face with a frustrated groan. “And I thought that maybe… I don’t know, I thought we were going somewhere good, you know? Somewhere at all! But then we got to the room and you just pushed me away!” 

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything you didn’t want to!” Spencer defending himself like this feels like you’re living in an alternate reality. To be honest, even if you had had the chance to talk to him like you initially intended to, you weren’t really sure what you’d do after. It wasn’t a situation in which you could predict an outcome, not when it comes to Spencer– he is too good in hiding form the world. Too good in hiding from you. “Y/N, I swear, that’s all! I wanted more, I always want more when it comes to you but I don’t want to get greedy and scare you off.”

“What about the next morning?” If you don’t sit down, you think your legs will buckle under you. So you sink onto the couch, head on your hands trying to keep you from looking at him with hopeful eyes. Spencer doesn’t want to pressure you and you don’t want to pressure him– and just like that you two fall in a cursed, never-ending dance. In a game where both are in defence, no one wins. One of you has to either take a risk or go home crying. And you’re oh so tired of going home crying… “The next morning you didn’t kiss me or, or, or talked to me! I woke up and you weren’t even in bed!” 

“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed,” This is getting more and more ridiculous by the second. Had you really jumped the gun here? “But when I got out of the shower, you were already freaking out about Abigail!”

“What– But what about after?!”

“After we talked about Abigail, I got a call from work and you were almost pushing me out of the door yourself!” This time around, you don’t ask anymore questions, not when you can see how exasperated Spencer is getting. “You said–” 

“Now is not the time to quote me,” You say as softly as you can. Though sometimes it can sting, having your words thrown back at you, you can’t help but smile every time he does it. The secret is in knowing Spencer isn’t trying to hurt you, but simply attempting to logically solve whatever issue he has to face. What he doesn’t seem to understand though, is that sometimes, the issues of the heart, aren’t logical to begin with. 

“I’m just trying to… I don’t know what I’m trying to do, but this is all a bit misunderstanding,” He shuffles closer to you with that look in his eyes that you’ve seen before in the mirror, your own familiar desperation glaring back at you with that lost, confused glint of what will happen next? “Please, I don’t… I don’t have much experience but I– I don’t want to lose you. Y/N, please… help me.” 

“Spence, what do you mean?” 

“Help me,” He whispers again, worry sketched on his face like it belongs there. His breathing is shallow, and you notice the way his hands wrangle each other in his lap. If anything, he’s trying, and failing, to hide from you for the the first time. As gently as possible, you reach up with a small smile playing on your lips, and you press your thumb to the lines between his brows, soothing them in a back and forth motion. “Help me, I don’t know what to do.” 

The way he chuckles in that coy way he does whenever he feels like he’s out of his league is what pushes you forward, the carefulness of your actions clashing with the eagerness in your kiss. You’ve been waiting for this all day, and everything inside you melts when you feel his hands reaching up hold you close, cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing he has ever touched. There is a slight shake to them when his lips move over yours and you can’t help but smile, laying your smaller hands over his– I got you, you want to tell him. I’ll help you. 

“Y/N…” His words hit you with a puff of air, lips brushing against each other every time he speaks. If Spencer pulls back an inch, you follow; if you try to put some distance, he follows. The wall between you two that had been shaken before was now completely shattered, bulldozed by his hands sliding down your neck, your sides, tugging on your waist until you’re as close as you can possibly be. Until you’re on his lap, surrounded his arms, overtaken by him and him only. “Don’t go home.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” You promise, laying your head on his shoulder like you’ve done many other times before. “I’m not relocating.” 

“Y/N–” 

“Who’s Maeve?” 

His body tenses underneath you horribly, and you hate that it’s all because of you. “I–“ 

“You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want to,” You say, pushing his hair away from his panicked eyes. “I just want you to know I heard you. I heard you talking about Maeve and Gideon and me, and I think if we want to start… whatever this is… we need to lay our cards down,” It’s a risky move, if anything. Not only are you asking him about his past, you will also allow him to ask about yours, and that is only fair.

“But what is this?” He asks, eyes sharp on yours while you play with his hair to try and distract yourself from the reality of it all. “What are we?” 

“I mean, you said you were my boyfriend, right?” You don’t want to be the one to make a decision this big, but then again, it shouldn’t be all him.

“Then what are you?” He mumbled, eyes threatening to shut the more your fingers run through his hair. “Are you my girl?” 

A move you don’t really expect from Spencer, but that is welcome nonetheless. The way you two look at each other, like teenagers all giggly about confessing, is equal parts pathetic and hilarious. But it’s the way you two chose to go about it and that is all that matters. Until you remember that this is reality, and you’re not a teenager anymore– there are higher stakes at play here that have to be addressed. There is heartbreak in the end. Pain. Hurt. Fear. That’s what you had before, waiting for you in the end of a very dark tunnel, and you’re scared that’s what will be waiting for you this time around, too. Not because of Spencer, but because of you.

“Joshua McMannon,” You mumble, slowly climbing out of his lap and sitting on the other side of the couch. Like a barrier, you bring your legs up, hugging your knees close to your chest in an action that Spencer will surely read right– separation, space. It happens whenever you talk about Josh, the wave of shame and embarrassment that paralyses you inside-out. The self-loathing. “He was uh, a big shot new player in the stock market, worked for some big firm I forgot the name. We met in a bar, I think. I know this sounds crazy but I blank on a lot of memories that include him, it’s– it’s hard to think back.”

“Y/N–“ 

“No Spence, I can’t ask about you your past without telling you about mine, that’s not how it works,” You say with such a tone of finality that he doesn’t even try to fight you on it. “So please, just… listen to me. The entire thing, because it makes me look dumb and foolish, I know it does, but I want to be honest with you, I don’t want this coming back later to haunt us, okay? So just… don’t judge me to harshly. Please.” 

His silence is enough to encourage you to keep on going. 

“You know a bit about it and there isn’t much more to tell, to be very honest,” There are some undertones of anxiety in your voice, and you know he hears it. You know he wants to move, pull you back to him, comfort you, anything. But he respects the shield you’ve put up and he listens, just like you asked. “He was one of those guys that love the chase, you know? Likes showing off, too, so I was always uh, well dressed and all that jazz. Josh hates when I– no. Sorry. Josh hated when I looked sloppy. He worked hard to play hard, according to him, so he wanted to show things off. Expensive restaurants every day, expensive clubs every night… expensive girlfriend all around.”

“No,” Spencer quickly blurts out one of the many words he’s surely holding in. “No, Y/N, you’re not something to show off, you’re not a thing!” 

“You’re sweet,” You chuckle. “But I was a thing to Josh. Something he owned, remember? And I fell for it, Spence. I was so, so stupid and desperate that I said nothing, I just went along and played into his fantasy until I couldn’t anymore. So I started talking back. Saying ‘no.’ You know what happens next, I guess. You know his type. I didn’t.” 

Gulping, you look down at your hands embarrassedly. Spencer would’ve clocked Josh on the dot. He would’ve known who he was and what he’d do in a second. You, on the other hand, hadn’t been so smart. Probably still aren’t. Probably never will be. It’s hard, not putting yourself down when you’re telling the smartest man you know about such idiotic mistakes.

“Y/N, don’t even think about it,” Spencer hisses and all restraint is gone. He is sliding down the couch to sit close to you, and his hands sneak under your knee and give a gentle tug. He’s trying to respect your need for your own space, but he needs to make sure you’re listening to him. “You’re not dumb. You are not stupid. You are a kind woman with a heart too big for assholes like him, and I won’t have you thinking this was your fault. Sweetheart, this is all his fault. You had nothing to do with that, you… you were just in love.” 

“I wasn’t, though,” You whisper, shaking your head slowly. “I really liked him. Like, a lot. But I didn’t love him.” 

“It doesn’t matter, sweet girl,” He gently put your legs over his, hands holding onto your calves like it’s his lifeline. “There is no scenario in which this is your fault. None. Do you hear me?” 

“I hear you,” You’re not lying– you hear him, you truly do. But believing him is a whole other thing, and you’re not sure if you’re there yet. “I’ve been hearing you, Spence. Every time you explain something new or you tell me some more fun facts, I hear you. It’s just that this time around it’s a little bit harder to process, that’s all.” 

“This is a fact like all the other facts I’ve told you,” With one more pull, you get closer and closer to his body until you can feel the press of those perfect lips against your forehead. “It’s irrefutable– none of this is your fault, angel. None of it.” 

Nodding, you relax onto his hold, head resting on his shoulder when you deliver the final blow. “Him hitting me wasn’t my fault, I know that much. I ran after that. It sounds a bit drastic, but I had never been in the position before and Josh is someone with a lot of influence back in New York. I would have never survived in there and I would’ve been scared all the time.” 

“He touched you?” The way he says it, voice sharp like a knife, makes you look up at him with squinted eyes. “Where?”

“What does it matter?”

“Where did he hurt you?” 

Chuckling, you grab his hand and lean your cheek onto it. “Right here,” You whisper, turning a little to drop a kiss on his palm.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Everything about  him screams comfort, from how his thumb gently caresses your face to the way his lips pull downwards in disscontempt. You know that by now, he’s making a mental note to run Josh’ name through Garcia, but that is something you will deal with later. Despite their good intentions, that is not a door you want to open any time soon. “I–“ 

“You will do nothing about it, Spencer Reid,” You say with as a teasing warning. You don’t know that, but Spencer wonders how can you smile while telling him about such terrible memories; how could you withstand pain so well without telling anyone about it before. “Whatever happened happened and it’s done. I just wanted to be honest and give you the full picture before… we make decisions.” 

“And what do you think this will accomplish, huh? That it will change my mind? Make me regret it?”

“I don’t know Spence,” You groan. “I’m just… trying to be honest.”

“And I appreciate that, Y/N,” This time, he kisses you on the lips, but it’s too fast and too light to satisfy the yearning inside of you. “But nothing will make me change my mind. Much less that asshole. I want you. I’ve wanted you since I met you, I–”

His pause lingers in the air with a something heavy over it. This time, you shuffle on his lap to try and get a better look of his face, legs holding you up on each side of him. It’s such an intimate position to be in, you straddling him with his hands dragging from your waist to your thighs then back up again; your hands playing with the little curls by the nape of his neck; his lips, opening and closing and opening again in what feels like failed attempt after failed attempt to tell you something. 

“I– I think I’ve wanted you since Maeve died.” 

There is a lot to unpack in this sentence, but you keep your expression clean of any reaction. He doesn’t need you gasping and fawning over him… he just needs you to listen.

“And I know it sounds messed up and weird, but like, the metaphorical you, you know? The you you are but disembodied and– and now I’m not making any sense, but I mean it.” 

“I know you meant it,” You whisper, nails gently scrapping his scalp. “It’s okay, you can not make sense, I’ll figure it out. I’m good with puzzles.” 

“You are terrible with puzzles, angel,” He chuckles and your shoulders relax a little. “I’ve seen you trying to put together that Pride and Prejudice poster puzzle… I think you’re just good with me.” 

“Hm, I think so to,” You smile. “Why don’t we start from the beginning then? Tell me your story.” 

Nodding, Spencer tugged you a bit closer and you like it– this tugging habit of his, the need to have you pressed against him winning against his need to keep the germs at bay. In a very simplistic way, it makes you feel special. 

“Maeve… I loved Maeve,” He admits, eyes looking into yours with an insecurity that is misplaced– though you are not above feeling the poke of jealousy down deep in your gut, you are mature enough to know when you are being an absolute idiot, and you smile at him. “I love Maeve, but I am no longer in love with Maeve. I mean, she’s dead, so…” Spencer clears his throat for a second, and when he’s ready– only when he’s ready– he continues. 

There is real pain in his voice as he tells you the entire thing, and there is real pain in your voice as you call him name oh so carefully. The tears in his eyes are few, but they are there, and you thumb them away as gently as you can. In your hands is the shell of the man you know, his words slowing down as his brain surely relieves memories he wishes to delete. 

“Spencer,” You call, his eyes shut so tight you think he might just hurt himself if he continues like this. “Spence, I’m so sorry that happened.” 

“It was my fault,” He whispered as if he is in a confessionary. “Diane Turner. That was the name of the girl that killed her. We were trying to negotiate with her and… and I failed.” 

“Spencer, no,” Oh how the tables have turned. “The girl was going to kill Maeve no matter what, and I’m sorry that it came to this. I’m sorry–“ You can’t even say it, confused with your anger and how it makes your hands shake. 

She blindfolded him. 

She read his letters, his fears, and she made them real. 

That is enough to have you wishing you had shot her yourself. 

“Sweetheart,” He chuckles sadly, bigger hands coming to encage yours in a futile attempt to extinguish your anger. Bringing your knuckles to his lips, he kisses each and every single one of them, and for a moment you think he knows– he knows you’d be someone you’re not, for him. Someone who hurts other people. And you think he’d hate himself if that ever happened. “It was a long time ago…” 

“But it wasn’t your fault…” You move until you embrace him, body covering his like a blanket willing to keep him from the cruel, cruel world around you two. “No matter how long ago it was.”

“I guess that’s just something we both have to learn,” His voice is muffled by your sweater, and you pull back a little. When he offers you his pinky finger, you don’t need any explanation, wrapping yours around it with a giggle. “Something we’ll help each other learn.” 

“It’s a deal,” You whisper, leaning forward and dropping a slow kiss to his lips. “Sealed with a kiss.” 

“Does this mean that now you’re actually my girlfriend?” He asks after a while and you laugh, loud enough to burst the bubble you two created. 

“If you want me to be, yes.”

“I want you to be, in case you haven’t noticed by now,” God, you love when he jokes, the casual tone of his voice making you both relax. “But I also want to be your boyfriend.”

“Hm, you want an awful lot, don’t you?” Pushing his hair back, you smile impossibly wide. “Good think I want a lot, too.” The way he kisses you makes you believe that you truly are the only girl in the world, even if just his world. “Now you have to tell all the guys that hit on you that you are taken.” 

“Spence, what guys?!” You snort, eyes wide when you try to move and sit next to him. He is quick to catch you, though, and place you back on his lap. 

“Just because you don’t notice people flirting with you doesn’t mean they don’t!” 

“Okay, wait a second, I notice–“

“I’ve been flirting with you for months!” He says in that way that makes his voice go a tone higher, his smile so wide and bright that you can’t help but laugh. 

“Maybe you’re bad at flirting?” 

“Even Garcia noticed,” Spencer points out and you groan, knowing that if you admit defeat he will forever gloat. “But that’s okay. We got there in the end.”

“We did… which is why I’m not relocating.” 

“Y/N, this is for your safety.” 

“I’m safer closer to you,” You whisper. “Spence, I won’t be safe with god knows how many strangers surrounding me in a location I have no clue how to navigate. Here, I have you and I’m in a familiar place– I know the closest subway, bus stations, taxi points. I know the owner of the cafe down the street, I know your neighbours, hell, I even have Abigail! Isolating me is not safe. Please.” 

For a moment, you wait. You’re unsure if you got through to him, his eyes looking at you so intently that it’s a little embarrassing. Everyone knows his brain works differently– it works faster, better, more precisely. Whenever Spence zones out like this, it’s not because of lack of attention, but simply because he’s thinking… and what a wonderful thing it is to see him think; to see those theories taking form in his beautiful head, to see those honey coloured eyes working out probabilities that you’d never even get close to understand. He’s a special one, and you love that about him. Because you love him.

And as much as everything between you two is new, this feeling is quite old. 

This growing warmth in your chest, expanding like rivers of gold adoration through your veins. 

It’s not surprising that you love Spencer. 

It’s only natural, considering how much he loves you. 

How you know it? 

“Yeah, okay. I’d feel more comfortable with you here with me, anyways.”

Well, it’s obvious. 

“And you’re right, you know?” He continues, speeding through his words as if he’s trying to convince you and him both. “You know this area well. Cat has managed to get through us easily, and I don’t know what I’d do if she found you and I was the one to send you all alone to strange place where you can’t ask for help…”

“That won’t happen,” You promise, shaking your head at the terrifying thought. “So does that mean I’ll stay here or go home?” 

The reason you enjoy asking Spencer obvious questions is because sometimes, times like this, you get to see his personality shinning like a beacon in a dark night. His sassiness is so refreshing that you can’t help but giggle every time he lets it out. “Don’t be ridiculous,” He mumbled, rolling his eyes like the little know-it-all he is. “You’re obviously staying here. You’re my girlfriend, you’ll stay where I can protect you. Which is also something we have to talk about.” 

“Nooo,” You are so tired of talking about things at this point. “Can’t we talk about it tomorrow? Please, I just want to spend one nice evening with my boyfriend without discussing the fact that his psychopathic stalker wants to kill me.” 

“Y/N, that is not funny!” He gasps when you chuckle. “Sweetheart, I just want you safe. I think it would be important for us to have a plan if someone ever breaks into my apartment, for example. You should know where my gun is and–“

“Woah, woah, woah, no way!” You shriek, climbing off of his lap and standing right in front of him. The though of having to use a gun makes you nauseous. “I don’t want to know where your gun is, and I don’t want to even think about the possibility of having to actually point it at someone!”

“Okay,” Spencer says softly, getting up too and coming to hug you. Despite people thinking that Spencer is not quite adept to human touch, he has gotten quite good at comforting you, knowing exactly how to hold you and how to talk you down of your rising panic. “That’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll talk about it another day, we don’t have to overwhelm you right now, it’s alright, my angel.”

For a moment, the two of you just… stand there, swaying from side to side while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. “Can we just be normal for a night and watch a movie?” You finally ask, looking up at his smile because right now, that’s the only thing that matters to you– him. 

“Yeah, let’s watch a movie.”

For a few hours, life is perfect. 

For a few hours, you get to kiss him like you’ve been meaning to. Touch him like you’ve been meaning to. You get to run your hands through his unruly hair, pushing it back and feeling its softness slip between your fingers like the finest silk that ever was. He touches you, too, albeit a bit more reservedly. His fingers find the sliver of skin on your hip, thumb caressing back and forth, sending shivers up and down your spine. His lips brushed against your cheeks, your neck, your collarbones.

For a few hours, you laugh and smile and chat. You memorise more fun facts to put on your little notebook later, now secure on the left bedside table, right next to where you lay every night. He tells you how the movie doesn’t make logical sense and how they have physics all wrong. He points at the screen and his voice gets higher and higher with his passion for correcting fiction and you can’t help but shut him up with a languid kiss. 

For a few hours, you two are just a couple. This is just a date. And this are just good.

But the higher you climb, the better it gets, the harder you’ll fall. This might just be what Cat wants– you, in perpetual anxiety, always looking over your shoulder, always scared of losing the little you were able to build in your new life. From what Spence and his team have told you about her, Cat’s main skills are all mental; manipulation, gaslighting, coercing. Is this how you’re going to end? Terrified with ever step you take, antsy at your boyfriend’s house while watching a movie, giving up on your bookshop so that strangers don’t have such an easy access to your life? 

For a few hours, you didn’t have to worry about that. 

For a few hours only… because once the second movie is done, you two are forced to pull apart thanks to the incessant knocking on Spencer’s door. “If this is Abigail again,” Spencer warns as he gets up, lips all swollen from kissing and making out. “I will arrest her.” 

“On what grounds, agent?” You hug a pillow close to you, completely ignorant to your current messy hair and blushed face. 

“Cockblocking,” It’s so rare to hear such a word coming from someone like Spence that you can’t help but burst out laughing. “JJ?”

The name has your smile slipping a little. Why is JJ here? Did something happen? The moment Spencer opens the door, she’s marching inside, her beautiful blonde hair floating in the air as if she is some sort of magical being. “Spence, what the fuck?!” She cried out, completely oblivious to your presence in the couch. “Why are you not picking up your phone? I’ve been calling– Hotch mentioned something about you not taking Y/N to a secondary location, are you insane?! You can’t take care of her all by yourself, she’ll–“

You clear your throat as loud as you can, smiling sadly at her when she turns around with a shocked expression. “Hi, JJ.”

“Y/N, I’m– I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were here…”

“She is,” Spencer suddenly sounds quiet, eyes cast down as if he’s a child who’s been caught red-handed doing something wrong. But then he raises his head, chin high and chest puffing out a little. “And she’ll stay here with me. Y/N doesn’t want to be moved to a secondary location, and considering we don’t know who Cat’s secondary is, I wouldn’t say it’s wise for us to do so. She’ll be alone in an unknown place. I… I would prefer if she’s here. With me. And officer Kaper.”

JJ’s eyes go wide and you can understand her surprise to hear her usually shy and quiet co-worker being so adamant. Hell, even you are a little bit surprised. “What you prefer?! Spence, this is not about what you prefer! This is about– oh my god, you two were making out.” 

Her observation is so dry that you almost choke on air. “What?!” His voice is a dead give away. Or maybe it’s the way you wince, looking away from her, that gives you two away. “JJ, this is none–“ 

“You are having an interpersonal relationship with a victim under our protection in an active case,” It’s the way she describes you as a victim, as if that’s the only thing you are to her, that makes you exhale harshly. “Yes, Spencer, this is my business.” 

“Uhm, technically–“

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but not now,” She speaks to you like a mother, and from what Spence has told you about her, you know that she has two wonderful boys. Two kids for her to mother. You, however, are not one of them. 

Slowly rising up from the couch, your voice is shaky when you speak, but your proud of yourself regardless– confrontation is not your best suit, some might say it’s your worst suit, but there is no escape this time around. Not if you want to stay with Spencer. “I’m sorry, JJ, but yes, now. I’m the one this is all happening to. I’m not a passive participant in all of this and I do get to make choices, even if those choices are against your recommendation. I chose to stay here. Not Spence.”

“Why here? Why not–“

“I know the area!” You basically squeak, frowning deeply at her. The JJ you know is sweet and soft-spoken. This JJ is… well, not that. This JJ is someone who gets the job done. This JJ sees you as a job. And that hurts. “Cat knows you guys, she has shown us again and again that she is one step ahead– look at what happened to Officer Kaper. He has a family! His wife and kids were there and– fuck, JJ, if something happens here, I know where to go! I know where to run to, I know the back alleys, I know the people… I can’t handle you guys taking me away from everything I know again. I can’t, I’m sorry, I just can’t, I–“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re not going anywhere,” In a second, Spencer is by your side, arms pulling you into his chest. “You’re stay here, sweetheart.” 

“Spence–“

“JJ, do you think I’m stupid?” The question shocks the words out of both of you. “I calculated the odds, okay? I know the risks. I know the pros and cons. But do you know what else I know? I know that when we thought Maeve was safe, her stalker was in her apartment. We put her under protective custody, and Diane still got to her. She could’ve been with me, I could’ve saved her!”

JJ doesn’t speak, and neither do you. You are frozen in place. Spencer had told you about Maeve just hours ago, described the entire thing, told you all the details of what happened back then… but he never touched on the now. On how he feels now. On how he remembers the whole thing now. On how it still affected him now. You can feel the anxiety on the way his breath shudders. The anger in his words, the regret, the fucking guilt As gently as you can, you circle his waist and squeeze. There is a part of you that hates doing this in front of someone else, giving them a part of this reality in which only you and Spencer exist; but he need to know you’re still here. Next to him, where he can keep you safe. “Maeve wasn’t your fault, Spencer,” JJ whispers, and you see in her a glimpse of the woman you’ve met before. “It wasn’t your fault…” 

“But this is!” He shouts back, stopping himself from lurching forward thanks to your body glued to his. Instead, he cradles your head closer, shuts his eyes tights, and let out the most pitiful exhale you’ve ever heard. “This is my fault… Y/N wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for me.” 

“Spence–“ You can’t even deny it. Logically, it is his fault this is happening– Cat is after you simply because she’s after him. That is undeniable, and you lose yourself in the endless search of what to tell him, how to comfort him. This is your Spence. Your boyfriend. And you don’t want this type of phantasmagoric guilt hovering over his head over the course of your relationship. This is how things end before they begin. 

“I won’t let her take Y/N away from me,” When he looks at JJ again, you gasp. His eyes shine with a determination you’ve never seen before, jaw tense and hands holding you to him like he means in. This time around, you know he means is. “Not now, not ever.” 

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[sir-davey]

Need to take a moment to talk about these books I have lol.

These books about David/Jonathan, I love and hate. Idk, like, I just can’t point out exactly, it’s probably the way David/Jonathan are depicted, but it really does frustrate me a little while reading this David/Jonathan trilogy.

It’s genuinely written well, like the writing isn’t corny or overly detailed lol. But it’s written with a Christian perspective, so David and Jonathan aren’t gay in this (sigh). 😞 But in these books, usually each chapter goes back and forth from Jonathan and David’s pov, and I love that.

The first two books are in David and Jonathan’s pov, but in the third book “My Father the King”, it’s in David and Mephibosheth’s pov. I get a lot of inspo for Mephi’s story from this book, but I actually have yet to finish the book because I’m too scared to finish 😭 (it’s literally just like my situation with the Prince’s Psalm atm lmaoo)

But just from reading the first two books, it’s so obviously written for them to be in love. The books are literally about their relationship. David and Jonathan meets, they connect, they share their deepest secrets and feelings, they fight side by side, and David even saves Jonathan from dying in battle!! Jonathan gets shot by arrows, and David wouldn’t stop visiting him. And you know what, Jonathan also saves David from dying in battle! And there’s a moment where David and Jonathan finds a waterfall, and Jonathan would playfully shove David into the water, and they would swim together on a cool night, just like the Simba and Nala water scene from The Lion King with “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” playing in the background if you know what I mean 😭 like AAAABABBAAAKSK, and throughout the books, even in the third book, David won’t stop yapping about how he constantly sees Jonathan in his dreams, as well as Jonathan who can’t get David out of his mind 😭 LIKE- NAHHH ☠️ hello??? Yeah, they’re definitely not in love or something… 🤔

But you know what, reading these books frustrated me so much.. The author made sure to constantly pull out the “we’re just friends!” card, so often 💀 it honestly doesn’t make sense to me ngl, from they way wanted to depict David and Jonathan’s relationship. Let me just say- if you’re going to dedicate an entire trilogy about David and Jonathan’s relationship only… there’s no fucking way you can pull it off as them just being “friends”, idk, it’s just not possible to me. The author would do this by, of course, “giving them a wife tactic”, but literally in the book, they cared more about each other than their wives LOL.

But yeah, my little review of this trilogy that I’ve been wanting to talk about. You can always check it out for yourself, I’d say I only recommend it if you like David retellings in general and if you want some Jonathan angst. Not kidding with the Jonathan angst 😭 he is so angsty in the books and a literal punching bag because every bad thing would happen to him. Like I would read about David going on some adventure, and when I turn to the next chapter, Jonathan is absolutely doomed by something 😭

And also, if you can handle the random preaching in the books where David breaks the forth wall and says that G-d is awesome or something and Jesus is coming, y’know, then perhaps you’ll enjoy the series 👍 (or maybe not)

[honestlydarkprincess]

whenever you're ready

buck & bobby || rated: g || wc: 792 || read on ao3

Buck had been kind of expecting it when Bobby pulled him aside one day after shift and gently asked to speak with him.

He knew he was acting weird around the station, that he was jittery and flighty but he couldn’t help it. So far he had only told Maddie that he was bisexual and it was sitting on the tip of his tongue anytime he was around the others. He desperately wanted to tell them but he didn’t want to just blurt it out over breakfast, he wanted to tell them all individually. Buck wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted to do it like that, surely ripping off the bandaid and telling everyone at once would be easier but he felt vulnerable sharing this part of him and he wanted to do it how it felt right to him.

He felt anxious as Bobby closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the captain’s office.

“Talk to me, Buck,” Bobby said gently, gesturing for him to have a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “You’ve been jumpy for a couple days now. Is something going on, kid?”

“I— I haven’t been jumpy,” He tried, swallowing roughly when Bobby just gave him a look.

Bobby surprised him by sitting down on the chair next to him, Buck had been expecting him to sit at his desk. “I know something is going on, Buck. You don’t have to talk about it, I can’t make you, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what it is, okay?”

Buck felt his throat go tight as tears burned at his eyes, taking him by surprise. The earnest support in Bobby’s expression made him crumble. “I— I realized something about myself the other day.”

“Okay,” Bobby said, encouraging him to continue with a nod of his head.

“I’m bisexual,” Buck said quickly, getting the words out as fast as possible.

Bobby was quiet for a moment, digesting Buck’s words and making Buck sweat. But then he was cracking a wide smile and saying, “Thank you for telling me, kid. I’m so proud of you.”

Buck felt all the tension melt away. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bobby nodded. He stood up and held out his arms, unsurprised when Buck shot up and collapsed against him. Bobby tucked Buck against his chest and hugged him tightly.

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” Buck asked. He knew that Bobby had never been anything but accepting with Hen but there was still that kernel of anxiety that sat in his chest, weighing him down.

“Of course, Buck,” Bobby reassured him. “You love who you love and that’s that. I’m glad that you’ve figured this out.”

“Me too,” Buck said, pulling away from the hug. “I feel…free in a way that I’ve never felt before,” He admitted shyly.

“Well, it’s a pretty big thing to discover so that makes sense,” Bobby said, putting his hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing. “So that’s why you’ve been so jumpy?”

“Yeah,” Buck looked down at his hands. “I want to tell everyone I’m just…nervous.”

“You know they’ll give you nothing but support, right?”

“I know,” Buck nodded. “I just…it’s hard to find the words, I guess. I’ve told Maddie and now you, I guess I should tell the rest of them, huh?”

“Who you tell, and when, is up to you, son. We’re your family, we’ll be here when you’re ready,” Bobby said quietly.

“Yeah, that’s what Maddie said,” Buck gave him a small smile. “I think I’m almost ready.”

“You don’t have to rush, you can let it happen when it happens,” Bobby advised. “Whatever it is you choose, just make sure it’s what’s best for you.”

Buck swallowed roughly, his throat going tight again as emotion rushed through him. He’d known Bobby would be supportive but he hadn’t expected how it would affect him, to have the man he saw as a father figure accept him with total ease, not even an ounce of hesitation. “Thank you, Bobby,” Buck said sincerely. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Bobby just hugged him again and Buck let a breath, hugging back just as tightly. When they separated Bobby cleared his throat. “Now, go on. You must have somewhere to be on a Friday night.”

“Actually,” Buck ducked his head. “Our date is tomorrow.”

“Good for you, kid,” Bobby smiled. “You have fun and stay safe.”

“You got it, Cap,” Buck saluted, grinning as he walked to the door and let himself out of the office. He walked out of the station smiling and whistling to himself, feeling so light and carefree.

Two down, a few more to go.