#I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

f1fantasys · 1 day ago

Text

Netflix and Chill Part 2

Warnings - FILTHY SMUT. that's it. You've been warned.

The motherfucker ghosted you.

You'd woken up the next morning, confused for a few seconds as you regained your surroundings. Normally you would feel the warmth of Lando's arm around your naked form, pulling you closer as you both shuffled to wake up. But today you had woken up cold. Pulling the sheets closer to you, you turned around, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next, good or bad. Except the other side of the bed was cold, empty, as if no one had even been there. Sitting up and looking around the room, you mentally cursed yourself for being such a deep sleeper. There was no sign of Lando. No clothes, no personal belongings, nothing. It was as if he wasn't here at all. Checking your phone, your heart dropped when there wasn't even a message from him. You held your ground for the next few days, not attempting to contact him, because, what the hell? So you threw yourself into work, busy as ever, and tried not to think of him.

It was now testing week in Bahrain, excitement in the paddock buzzing with the season about to start. You figured it would be impossible not to see the curly-haired Brit, but you'd decided to ignore him if you did. Why did he think it was okay to give you the best orgasms of your life, talk about a future, even though you could blame it on the adrenaline, and then avoid you as if you didn't know each other.

Day 1 went on without a hitch. You were covering Ferrari, so you were cooped up in their garage all day, and you were grateful all you saw of Lando was his back as he was walking out of the paddock.

Getting back to your hotel, you took a long shower, scrubbing off the smell of rubber and grease that'd gathered in the garage. You crawled into bed, desperate for sleep though you kept tossing and turning until your phone buzzed with a message. Seeing Lando's on your screen had you jolting up.

''hey, you good? sorry for being MIA, prepping for the season and what not..''

You took a few minutes to reply. You totally got how stressed and busy he was, but what pissed you off was how he'd left you sleeping in his room, bolted like it was nothing, you were nothing.

''i get you're busy Lan, but low blow leaving me in YOUR hotel room without so much as a fucking 'hey, I'm leaving, see you whenever'' you sent back.

His next message came in quick.

''whoa, relax. yeah? didn't think you'd react like this..''

Relax? Really? Was he really telling you to relax right now? You were fuming.

''react like what? Lando, we fucked and then you literally walked out in silence. how should i react?''

''i..yeah, dick move. i'm sorry''

Before you the chance to respond, another text came in.

''let me make it up to you? ;)''

Fuck this man and his abilities to turn you on with a few simple words.

''no thank you, i'm tired.

''y/n? saying no to my dick?''

''fuck you''

''i'd rather you fuck me''

Already feeling a wetness in your panties, you instinctively slipped a hand past them to slide through your throbbing folds, when you phone pinged again.

''damn, no reply for 3 minutes. she's touching herself thinkin' about me''

Damn him for knowing you inside out.

''stop''

''come on y/n, i know how needy you get. let me help you yeah?

''Lando'' you warned, though you didn't want him to stop one bit.

He obviously took it as you moaning him name, not warning him.

''i know baby. just imagine i'm right there with you, it's my fingers sliding through your dripping cunt. press two into yourself?''

You did as he said, gasping and arching your back off the bed as you thrust them in and out at a steady pace though it didn't feel as good as Lando's rough, calloused fingers. And when he saw you hadn't replied, he didn't hesitate to call you.

Whimpering, you answered, not saying anything but instead letting him hear what he was doing to you.

''Fuck, always love hearing you like this'' he said. ''Are you doing it? Fucking yourself with your fingers?'' he asked as you heard shuffling on the other end of the line.

''I am'' you responded, words coming through gritted teeth.

''Go faster, and let me hear you come more baby. Fuck I'm so hard right now''

You quickened your pace, breathless moans leaving your mouth. ''Are, huh, are you touching yourself?'' you asked.

''Yeah, fuck, i'm so fucking hard right now. Imagining your tongue on my cock, soft and hot''

''Lando'' you moaned his name, your tummy warming up, orgasm on the brink.

He quickly requested a facetime which you accepted, nearly tipping you over the edge as you saw him sat against his headboard, fist around his dick, pumping very quickly as he let out his own series of grunts.

''I'm right there with you, fuck. Think of my tongue now, going down on you. Licking up all your juices as I suck on your clit before thrusting it through your hole, fuck you're delicious. Are you gonna cum baby? All over my face yeah?''

''I-fuck me. I'm gonna-'' you started before your orgasm ripped through your body, your cum coating your fingers as you shook, the after effects taking control now.

Just seeing you let go to his words had Lando on the brink, his moans becoming louder as you watched cum splurge out of his girth and on to his stomach, sheets of white painting him as his body shuddered and tried to calm down. ''Fucking hell'' he groaned.

Both your chests were heaving, smug smiles playing your faces as you stared at each other through the phone.

''One more thing babygirl'' he said.

''Huh'' you questioned.

''Need to see you suck your fingers off. Taste yourself''

You did as he did. Sliding your fingers out of your cunt and bringing them to your lips, not before showing off the shine to Lando through the camera.

''Fuck'' you heard him mutter as you finally sank them into your mouth, moaning at the salty taste of your cum.

You licked them clean and released them with a pop before turning your attention back to Lando.

''Your turn'' you said, feeling your cheeks heat up at the thought of Lando tasting himself.

He groaned, and you watched him gather his slick on a finger before slipping it into his mouth, already clenching your thighs together at the sight of him.

Finally, as things settles and both your heart rates returned to normal, Lando sheepishly smiled at you while you internally cursed yourself for getting putty in his hands so easily.

''Tomorrow, yeah?'' he said, up and walking to his bathroom to clean up.

''Tomorrow'' you said, bidding him goodnight.

Needless to say, you woke up fresh as a daisy in the morning. That damn mouth of his, doing things to you without so much as touching you.

You strode into the paddock with a colleague, stopping my the McLaren hospitality to see if Lando was there. He wasn't, so you made your way to Mercedes, your home for the day.

George was speaking before you saw him. ''Someone's pucker'' he said, winking.

Your cheeks flushed, Lando must have said something.

''Shut up'' you mumbled as he walked in step with you. He was a close friend of Lando's, and they often spoke of their quoted ''love lives'' so rather, ''friends, with benefits''

You motioned to zip your mouth up and throw away the key before your breath hitched when you saw Lando walking towards you.

''Hello'' he greeted innocently, with a smirk that was anything but innocent.

''Hi'' you smiled, clearing your throat as George walked away with a smug look on his own face.

''Good night?'' he asked, as if he wasn't talking filthy over the phone not 12 hours ago.

''Meh, it was alright, could have been better'' you said.

He chuckled, a deep sarcastic laugh before he moved closer, lips barely touching your ear. ''I'll be looking for a different answer tomorrow morning, after i fuck you numb tonight'' he whispered, walking off behind you, leaving you blushing in the middle of the paddock.

The rest of the day was busy from the word go. You had been keeping an eye on how Lando was doing, his car seemed to take off right where they ended last year, if anything, better even. Just as you were wrapping up for the day, he'd texted you with his room number. ''Don't be late'' to which you reacted with a heart.

You had a dinner to attend, which seemed to drag on forever before you practically ran up to your room to shower and change, eager for him. You knocked a few times with no answer, so opened your phone to call him as you read a message he'd sent.

''In the shower. Door's unlocked''

You smiled and pushed it open, the noise of the shower filling your ears. Debating whether to wait for him or join him, the latter won out.

You stripped your clothes to be butt naked before opening the bathroom door, gasping when your eyes landed on Lando's hands pumping himself.

''Gonna stand there and watch or help out?'' he teased, opening the shower door you to step into.

Within seconds his lips were on yours, fighting for dominance as your tongues slid against each other. It was sloppy and messy, the both of you swallowing the others moans.

You could feel Lando's hard erection between your stomachs, his hands cupping your ass, massaging it tightly.

''Need to taste you'' you mumbled, roughly pushing him against the wall and sinking down on your knees while Lando didn't protest. He gripped your hair, pulling it out of your face into a makeshift ponytail as you kissed a strip on his bare thighs up to his crotch.

''Please'' he begged leaning his head back, mouth slightly agape as you finally wrapped your lips around his tip, swallowing his pre-cum and then sucking hard on it.

''Fuck me y/n. That mouth of yours'' he groaned when you started pushing him further into your mouth, pumping what you couldn't fit in. You hummed in response, the sensation causing his dick to twitch in your mouth as you quickened your pace, folding with his balls as his grip on your hair tightened.

''Fuck you take me so good. Where do you want my cum?'' he asked, voice desperate though none of your cared how quickly he was pushing to the edge.

He should have known the answer already. You were always ready to taste him, so you continued with your movements as Lando cupped your face and began fucking himself through your mouth, relentlessly.

And in a matter of seconds he exploded, sheets of warm, salty cum coating the inside of your mouth as he let out guttural moans, legs shaking and shuddering as his dick twitched uncontrollably.

You clenched your thighs together at the sound, taste and sight in front of you. Lando was slowly becoming your world, and to see him fall apart like that because of you, was doing things. Good or bad? You didn't know.

You stood back up and stood on your tippy-toes to kiss him, hard and deep, gripping his hair tightly.

He quickly turned the water off before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulders before stepping out of the shower, not caring about dripping water everywhere as he carried you to the bed, flopping you down before hovering above you.

You took his green eyes in, heart beating out of your chest because it was times like this that you couldn't believe he was choosing to do these types of things with you.

''I'm sorry for being such a dick. I was worried you'd think I'm a desperate fucking weirdo after saying all those things to you that night'' he said, thumb stroking your cheek.

''Lando, I literally want the same things as you, i told you. Please don't do that again. I'd thought you regretted all of it'' you said softly.

''Fuck, the only thing i regret is going all MIA on. I promise I won't do it again''

You responded by pulling him down and kissing him senseless again.

''I meant it. I want all of you.'' you mumbled between licks and nips of his tongue.

''I'm here now, not going anywhere'' he said, before hovering down your body and spreading you legs apart, a smirk taking over his face.

''Look at you, dripping for me'' he said, wasting no time in licking a strip up your sticky cunt.

You gasped, tugging at his hair as he started his onslaught, devouring your pussy, biting and sucking on your clit as he thrust two finger through you, hitting against your g-spot over and over again.

''Oh god, Lando, fuck. Fuck me'' you said between moans, gasps for air because he really was not going easy you.

''Cum on my face y/n, need to taste you'' you said, adding a third finger while holding your legs spread with his strong hands.

He didn't need to tell you twice to cum. In no time you were gushing your liquids all over, drenching his face in white hot sticky cum as your moans over took the sloppy sound of his tongue lapping at you.

When you'd realized what was happening, Lando was praising your name over and over, and it dawned on you as you looked at him, panic taking over your body.

You'd just squirted all over his face.

''I-oh my god, shit, I'm sor-

''What the fuck, y/n, how are you saying sorry right now? This is the hottest fucking thing you've ever done. I'm about to cum again just looking at you like this'' he said quickly.

You had no energy to argue, butterflies in your stomach at his words as he leaned up to kiss you again.

''Need to feel you, please'' you begged.

''Condom?'' he asked, having a feeling he knows the answer already.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips as he slid his thick girth through your folds.

''Fuck me numb, yeah?'' you said, repeating his earlier words back to him.

''Fucking dirty mouth'' he mumbled before sliding into you in a single thrust, bottoming out while you held your breath, squeezed your eyes shut at the intrusion.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waste and told him to move, capturing his lips again between breathy moans and guttural groans.

'Fuck, you're tight'' he said, picking up his pace, pounding into you, his dick continuously hitting the same spot over and over as your walls clenched painfully around him.

''Lando, please, faster'' you begged, his hand coming down to toy at your clit which immediately had your body shuddering underneath him, your orgasm ripping through you while he relentlessly continued pounding into you.

''Not gonna last long, fuck me'' he said, his moans pornographic by now, and the sound on skin slapping against skin filling up the room.

''I, I can't Lando, too much'' you said, cunt overstimulated.

He slowed his movements. ''Want me to stop?'' he asked, no etch of concern on his face coz he knew you could take it.

''Fuck no'' you said, already trying to move your body up and down to create some friction again.

He smirked as he resumed his pace, quick, hard, deep thrusts until they started becoming sloppy, his dick throbbing inside of you as you came yet again, your body like jelly, moaning out his name, and not a few seconds later you felt sheets of warm cum coating your insides as he came with a husky groan, shuddering on top of you.

Lando eventually collapsed on your body, the both of you shivering at the cold air coating your sweat-clad skin.

You could feel like softening inside of you, though no one even attempted to move, too fucked out to care.

''Your incredible'' he mumbled in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as your played with the curls on his head.

''Tell me that tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that'' you teased back, making him pull his head up, sheepish smile.

''Be my girlfriend?'' he asked, rather shyly.

''I'd love to!'' you said, unable to keep your own smile in.

You didn't know what to expect when his fingers tapped against your cheek, motioning for you to open your mouth.

You did so, your brain short circuiting when Lando let his spit drip down from his mouth into yours, smug smirk on his face.

''Now we're official, baby''

A/N - reverse cowgirl in this pic? YES PLEASE.

@sltwins @savagecatsuga @sheeesthings @dollyvuu @lilorose25 @htpssgavi @moonclaine @col4pint0 @dustie-faerie @ayap4paya @geometric-circle @martygraciesversion381 @screechingmiraclechaos @sarx164 @sunny-ln4 @cmleitora @brats66 @saythename-sm

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 fic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando smut

325 notes · View notes

v4mpire45 · 1 day ago

Text

The Things He Doesn't Know — K. Bakugo

This is part 8 of the series, so other parts will be on the m.list.

☞ Link: click here.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Jealous female reader

Synopsis: When you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend, but force you're feeling's down for the sake of your friendship.

Author's note: I'm so sorry this took so long to get out, I needed time to think about ideas. And I'm working on other works at the moment. This is also a bit short, but only because the next part will be juciy.

Things have been good, or as good as they can be.

You and Bakugo have kept your promise to each other. The two of you have been spending more time together, slipping back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship.

And honestly? It feels like you've gotten your best friend back.

You've missed this. A lot more than you'd like to admit.

Maybe it was stupid, holding onto something like this so tightly. But Bakugo had been there for you through everything. Before the war, before all the chaos. When you met, you butted heads just as much as you got along, but somehow, through all the fights and challenges, he became your person.

The one who understood you without needing to say much at all.

And after everything, after the war, after all the distance that formed between you, getting him back felt like getting a part of yourself back.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

But there's a shift you can’t quite put into words. Maybe it’s just in your head, maybe it’s nothing at all, maybe it's been here all along and you’ve been ignoring it, but when you’re with him, there’s this... awareness.

This weight in your chest tightens when he’s close loosens when he laughs, and straight-up betrays you when he does something as simple as calling you by your first name.

But lately, Kimiko's been watching. Not just Bakugo, you. And you don’t like what’s behind those eyes.

Today, training drills had been assigned. Nothing new, just the usual combat sparring to sharpen reflexes and adapt to different fighting styles.

You were heading toward Mina, already expecting to pair up with her, when a familiar voice grunted behind you.

"You. Me. Partners."

You turned, blinking as Bakugo stood there, arms crossed, already walking off like your answer was obvious.

"Oh. Okay...!" You tried to sound casual, but your voice had a little too much enthusiasm to pass as apathetic.

Before the war, you and Bakugo were almost always partners for these kinds of things. Sure, sometimes he’d go with Kirishima, and you’d switch it up with Mina or Jirou, but you were a duo.

Then the war happened.

And after that, Kimiko came along, sliding into the space beside him like it was hers to claim. You stopped partnering with Bakugo. Maybe you didn’t even realize how much you missed it until now.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Kimiko’s gaze, her expression unreadable. She had been heading toward Bakugo, too, but he hadn’t even looked her way. Instead, he had gone straight to you.

Not your fault. He made his choice.

Still, you felt her eyes on you like a weight.

The spar was intense.

Bakugo never held back. Not with you. Not with anyone. But today, it felt different. More focused. Like he was pushing you, not just physically, but daring you to keep up. And you did.

Sweat beaded on your forehead as you dodged another one of his attacks, skidding back just in time to avoid the explosive blast.

You shot forward, aiming a kick toward his side, but he blocked, catching your ankle with a firm grip before shoving you back.

"Too slow," he taunted, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"You’re just fast," you shot back, adjusting your stance.

"Damn right I am," he said, rolling his shoulders before lunging again.

The tension was there, thick, buzzing. Maybe it was just your own head making it worse, but every time he moved closer, every time his eyes locked onto yours with that sharp intensity, your breath caught for half a second too long.

And every time you caught a glimpse of Kimiko watching. You waved at her when Bakugo wasn’t looking. She only narrowed her eyes and turned back to her own partner.

The match ended when Bakugo finally got the upper hand, knocking you onto your back with a hard sweep of his leg. He loomed over you, hands on his hips, panting slightly.

"You finally tired yet, dumbass?" he muttered.

"Not even close," you lied through your teeth, even as you struggled to catch your breath.

His smirk widened, but he didn’t press it. Instead, he just held out a hand, which you grabbed without hesitation. His grip was firm, warm, steady.

And maybe you held on half a second longer than necessary.

After training, everyone had packed up, heading back to the locker rooms. You took your time, changing into your uniform, running a towel over your damp hair before slinging your bag over your shoulder. As you stepped out of the girls’ locker room, a voice called out behind you.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"

You turned to see Kimiko, standing a few feet away, hands on her hips, her expression unreadable.

"Oh, um... sure?"

She smiled, but there was something off about it. Before you could react, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you aside, leading you into a quieter corner of the hallway.

Then, she let go. Crossed her arms. Tilted her head. And that fake little smile faded.

"So," she said, voice deceptively light. "What’s going on with you and Bakugo, hmm? Do you like him or something?"

Your throat went dry. "What? No, I—" You let out an awkward laugh. "That’s— what are you even talking about?"

Kimiko huffed, unimpressed. "Hmph. Yeah, sure."

For a second, she just stared at you, then sighed. "Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask since that party. The one where you told me to ‘hop off Bakugo’s balls.’" She raised an eyebrow. "Kinda funny, isn’t it? Considering you’re the one acting all territorial now."

Your stomach dropped. "I—I didn’t mean—"

"Save it," she cut you off with a wave of her hand. "You already apologized once, remember? I don’t need you groveling again."

You hesitated. "Then why bring it up?"

Her expression shifted, something unreadable behind her eyes. She glanced away for a moment before exhaling sharply.

"Because," she said slowly, "I think you and I both know you’re full of shit."

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked off, leaving you standing there.

You didn't know what was worse, the fact that she called you out so easily.

Or the fact she might be right.

Tags: @tsukikoxo @pet1t3 @anon-mouse223 @nepenthes-things @hakkoyo @ita606 @raeroowrites @dreamybabbyy @ghostkat23 @channnee @sanriihoe @ch3rryjampi3 @eyesforbkg @charlotterosea13 @chuugarettes @mtsudaa @myblogsucks @emmaafinchh @adherethecomingofage @uhsakusa @shewki @galaneiaeris @surprisemodafakas @uhnanix @ilovemushroomss @bakunianadecorazon @bonbonbytes @snoozebunz @wowbon @holobean @littlestinkybastardman @closehereyes

146 notes · View notes

thjsrots · 7 hours ago

Note

Can I ask for a counselor!Sevika and reader with social anxiety? And Sevika has to attend those fancy "parties" of the Council, and there are so many people there, the reader feels uncomfortable (she doesn't cry, but almost), and Sevika notices and takes her out of there and comforts her? Sorry if this is confusing, I'm writing this in the middle of the night and a little sleepy!! Thanks (And forgive me if I wrote something wrong, English isn't really my first language...)

-🦇

i love me some sappy sevika. here u go!!! hope its okay! <3 (also don’t sue me i couldnt find a good maroon button up pic. i’m sorry. luv u.)

never really alone

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ sevika x reader fluff

It was nighttime, the moon gleamed down on you as you looked perfect. Your hair was styled, had on the most beautiful gown that Sevika picked out just for you, and your makeup was flawless. Everything about you was perfect. Except, you didn’t feel perfect. You felt the dress synching your waist in, making it hard to breathe. Your hair and face felt heavy, and the unnecessarily tall heels pinched your feet. But alas, you were doing this for your wife, so none of that mattered to you. You’d be able to suck it up just this one night for her, just for this one party.

The two of you walked in through the large doors, hand in hand. The immediate buzzing sound of people chattering, drinks pouring, and fancy music hit you like a truck. You gulped, squeezing Sevika’s hand, looking over at her. She looked straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed (per usual; she has a resting bitch face), maroon button up blouse semi tucked into her black slacks, belt buckle shining in the light. You could feel your cheeks flush underneath all the foundation as you stared, admiring but also trying to find comfort in her face. She looked over at you, eyebrows immediately relaxing, giving you a small smile.

“You ready, princess?” She asked, squeezing your hand back. A little sign to show that she had you, no matter what. You felt your tense body loosen up a bit, breathing out deeply, and nodding.

“Yes,” You started, smiling back. “I-I’m ready.” You pushed those words out of your mouth the best you could. Of course you weren’t ready. If it were up to you, the two of you would be at home, snuggled up watching a movie. Before you could even second guess your answer, she began to walk forward, leading you into the drowning sound. You followed behind her, of course. Those stupid heels were already hurting, so it definitely took you a second to catch up.

You knew Sevika didn’t necessarily enjoy these parties, but she had to show up and put on a face as best she could (which… was never really her best, you could tell she hated it). So you knew you probably wouldn’t be there long. All you had to do was suck it up and push the anxiety down as best you could for an hour or two.

Right?

As you were caught up in your own thoughts, you felt Sevika’s grip loosen and let go from your hand, making you snap back to reality. Your head snapped up, eyes darting towards her.

“Sevika! Glad you could make it,” Someone (of importance, you assumed) said, leading her away. You didn’t care much about seeing their face, your eyes stayed glued on Sevika. “There’s some people here who want to meet you. Follow me?”

She looked back at you, almost like she was asking for permission without actually asking. You couldn’t possibly hold her back from this, doing her job. So you forced the best smile you could, nodding. “Go ahead, darling. I’ll be here.”

She sighed annoyingly at the request, but smiled back at you. “Thank you. I’ll keep my eye on you, don’t stray too far. Okay?” She said before turning around and walking away. You watched her until she got lost in the crowds, leaving you by yourself. Your breath hitched once you lost sight of her, fingers twiddling as the panic began to settle in. You shook your head around, trying your best to push the feeling down.

I’m a grown being, I can do this. I can totally do this. You thought to yourself, trying to fake it till you make it. With the bit of courage you had, you made your way to the bar area, grabbing one of the drinks that were being given out. You sipped on it, face immediately twisting up. The alcohol tasted bitter, the cranberry juice doing absolutely nothing to mask the flavor, making it hard to swallow. You gulped it down as best you could anyway. You figured maybe getting a little buzz might cool the anxiety down, I mean, it didn’t hurt to try.

…So you picked up another drink after forcing down the first. You walked around, exploring the place, which was huge. I mean, truly, there was no ending to it. Halls after halls, multiple doors, stairs that led to Gods knows where. It seemed like you were doing fine. You were almost confident in yourself, dress shimmering, hair shiny, lashes batting.

Until… a group of women began to walk towards you. You stood there at first, trying to look nonchalant. I mean, no way they were coming to you. Right? Wrong.

“Hey! You’re Sevika’s wife, aren’t you?” One of them questioned, eyes gleaming as she stared. “Wow, what a beauty. She’s certainly lucky, isn’t she?” All of them giggled, touching your hair and dress. You felt it creeping up again, that same feeling that was always lingering in the pit of your stomach.

You cracked a smile anyway, hesitating before responding. “Y-Yeah, I’m her wife. Thank you. I should go find her, actually.” Was the best you could do. You figured you were coming off as rude, but these ladies did not catch the hint.

“What? Going so soon! Tell us more about her, she’s such a drag to work with usually. How could her cranky self wife up someone like you?” Another of them commented, their giggles turning into loud laughter. You could tell this was drunken banter, but that didn’t seem to help you at all. The feeling began to grow bigger, heavier, pushing down on your chest. It slowly became hard to breathe as their words overlapped, molding into something you couldn’t understand. Your chest was rising and falling too fast, so fast you couldn’t keep up. Your hands gripped on the cup, squeezing hard, shaking as they continued. How could they possibly not catch the hint? You regretted telling Sevika yes. Yes to joining her, yes to walking in, yes to letting her go join the others. You felt your eyes begin to water, hot tears beginning to build up, begging for their release. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, totally fucking path-

“Ladies,” Sevika’s husky voice broke your internal battle. The women immediately peaked over your head, looking at her as she stood behind you. She grabbed onto your waist, pulling you in. “Looks like you’ve bothered my wife enough. It’s about time you get going.” She said, voice stern and low. They smiled awkwardly, nodding and agreeing as they walked away, mumbling not so nice things under their breaths.

You felt Sevika grip onto your hand, leading you outside to the balcony, closing the doors behind you. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, making you spill your drink along the tile floor as you held onto her, face nuzzling in her neck. Although she was squeezing a little, you felt like you could finally breathe. Her hand ran down your back, then up again, rubbing it slowly.

“I’m sorry I left you alone, princess. Are you okay?” She said as she pulled away, cupping your face in her hands, her grey eyes full of worry. You held onto her hands as did so, resting your head against them. The anxiety began to melt away as you stared into her eyes, felt her skin against yours, her scent wrapping around you. This was your safe place.

“I’m okay,” You said, eyes closing, taking it all in. “I’m sorry I freaked out. Did I ruin it for you?”

“Of course not, I get whatever I want around here. So, my work for tonight is done.” She said, scoffing a bit.

Your eyes opened, immediately raising an eyebrow at her, giggling at her sassy remark. “Is that so?”

“It is so, and you know what it is I want now?” She asked, leaning closer into your face.

You giggled. “What does her highness want now, hm?”

She suddenly grabbed your waist, pulled you in, then kissed you. It was a soft and slow kiss, taking the time to feel her lips melting into yours. This was heaven, you were sure of it. Her soft and salty lips, gentle yet secure hands holding you, her care for you. She was your heaven. She pulled away, smiling softly, staring into your eyes. “I want us to go home and have the night to ourselves.” The moonlight hit her face just right. Her eyes glistened as she looked at you, skin glowing, and muscles showed through her shirt.

Your heart fluttered, ears reddening up a bit. Gods, you were so in love with her. The corners of your mouth lifted up into a toothy smile, one that Sevika absolutely adored. “I’d love that, Vika.” You said, pushing her hair back to get a better look of her face in that moment. You wanted to remember this, have this memory of her forever.

She grabbed onto your hand, kissing it softly, then looked back down to you. “By the way, alcohol is horrible for anxiety.”

Your eyes widened at the sudden comment. “How… did you know?” You questioned, blinking quickly.

“I tasted it all in your mouth, babe.” She started as she began to lead you back inside. “Plus, I had my eye on you the entire time, you were never really alone. I’d never do that to you.”

You blushed, smiling at her comment as the two of you walked back inside. She wasn’t usually this sappy, but when she was, you ate it up. You’d definitely bring up how hot her need to always protect you was later. She quickly said her goodbyes, brushing off the small talks, then led you outside the giant doors you had came in from. You couldn’t help but stare at her lovingly the entire time, wanting nothing more than to kiss her over and over. Maybe do even a little more than that, but you’d save that for the bedroom.

#I HOPE THIS IS OKKKAAYYYY #i love writing fluff sevika omg 😭#arcane #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika fluff #sevika x you #val fics!!

80 notes · View notes

thewitchblue · 6 hours ago

Text

"Did you join the fucking military?"

Jason asked Tim, who blinked blankly at Jason until he noticed what he was holding. Jason was holding your military tags, which Tim's selfishly kept to himself when you "lost" them. Technically, he stole the tags from you, but you can always get a new set. You'll be matching! He did feel a little bad that you got in trouble with leadership when you asked for new ones, but he's sure you'd be fine without the old pair.

"No."

Tim didn't elaborate further. The tags have practically lived on him since he stole them. He only ever takes them off for showers, which is how Jason found them. Jason scoffed,

"Good. You'd be a shit soldier. Why do you have military dog tags?"

Tim tried to take them back, but Jason held them above his head. Your dog tags are air jailed until he gets answers. Jason needed to know.

"Answer or I'll find a place to smelt them down."

Tim knew he was serious by the gleam in Jason's eyes, so he said,

"My girlfriend is in a special forces unit for the marines. She refuses to tell me which unit she's in, but I've narrowed it down."

Jason was too stunned to notice that he dropped your dog tags. Tim snatched them off the floor and put them safely around his neck again and tucked under his shirt where they belonged. He likes to say that you're closer to his heart with your tags under his shirt with the bonus of protecting him from any potential bullets. Even when you are gone, you promise that you will always come back. He's used to your deployment and the limbo you have him in.

"When do I get to meet her?"

Dick said from the doorway. He was passing by and overheard. His little Timmy has a girlfriend? When did that happen?

Tim touches the tags while thinking of what to reveal and what to keep private. He's never been good at respecting privacy, but he has been learning for you. He knows to keep anything you say to him a secret, but what about other things relating to you?

"Whenever she wants. I'm not her keeper."

Tim answered vaguely. He's flying to see you soon, and he doesn't want to be followed. You've been together for three years, but you met kind of awkwardly. You tackled him to the ground and wrestled with him after mistaking him for one of your friends.

Your willpower eventually overcame his reflexes, and he stopped struggling. You had laughed when you pinned him down and ruffled his hair in victory. It was embarrassing to him how quickly he submitted to you. He watched your eyes widen when you noticed he's not your friend. You took in the scene too slowly. You, straddling who you had assumed was your friend with your hands pinning his wrists to both sides of his head, and Tim blushing underneath you. Tim didn't know how to react either, so you both stared at each other before you started awkwardly apologising.

Tim was a mess, but he was an adorable mess. His hair was ruffled, and his clothes were wrinkled, but there were no bruises nor any scrapes. You were always careful to leave no injuries. He was breathless, just staring at you with wide eyes and a shyness that almost made you smile. He was so cute that you wanted to squish him.

You quickly got off of him once you realised how long you've been staring at him. You pulled him up from the ground when he didn't make a move to stand by himself and actually almost fell right back to the ground because his legs refused to work for him. He was understandly stunned.

This is awkward. How do you explain the tradition of you fighting your friend on sight? Your friend does the exact same thing with you. It was excellent training for your deployment to fight each other on sight without any prep. Enemy soldiers aren't going to reveal themselves before attacking, so surprise attacks help keep your reflexes sharp.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

He couldn't get the image of you pinning him down out of his head. Nobody has ever pinned him down so intimately. You were gentle. Your hold would have been easy to break out of if he didn't stop struggling. It was like you only played until one of you got pinned, and then the fight was over.

Tim was still trying to remember how to function. What does he do? What does he say? He's all shaken up. He had to look away from you. He managed to say,

"It's fine."

He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but it sounded strained. He was pretending like the wrestling really took it out of him by fake panting, but you both knew better. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but pat his back and attempted to leave.

Attempted, being the key word. Tim caught your wrist loosely and nervously said,

"I, uh... would you... Can we... Let's... I'm sorry."

He didn't have the words with you looking at him like that. He was nervous. You smiled softly at him, and he forgot how to speak entirely. He could only stare until you took the initiative and asked him to go on a date before you leave for boot camp. He nodded, and that was that. You gave him your number and continued your run like nothing happened.

The date went amazing. It was a bit unconventional as you took him to a paint gun fight after showing him the gun and explaining the rules. You grinned every time he landed a hit and even wiped away the paint that splattered onto him with a fond expression. You opened up about the fear you have about joining the military, but your desire to help. You want to make a difference, however small or large that may be.

You kissed the bruising wounds softly and banaged the bleeding ones before he could even reach for the first aid kit you brought. You helped him up with a wild grin, and he kissed you until the adrenaline ran out. The guns were empty, and you both were messes, but your hearts were full, and Tim can safely say he hates paintballing. You took him to see a movie like a normal person next date.

Jason and Dick watched their brother soften further and further as he went down memory lane. Dick was ecstatic and already plotting to meet you, but Jason was confused why anybody would date Tim. Yeah, he's had his fair share of partners, but he's surprised every time he gets a date, let alone a girlfriend.

You were his mystery girl, and their family loves a good mystery.

#tim drake x reader #fem!reader #batfam x reader

81 notes · View notes

spencessocks · 11 hours ago

Note

bucky AND spencer??!!! are you my brain? my brain has a tumblr? but seriously im so happy you exist.

i was originally coming to say how in ‘through the silence’ the theme and the conversation could be the same (okay maybe just similar) with post prison spencer x reader and how he is trying to get back to reality and leave prison behind

love you xx

a/n: omfg what... im literally going to eat ur face... this sort of got a little longer than i intended and it took me a while because i was busy with work so im sorry!😭😭 but thank u so much omg i was reeling from this ask, ur so sweet and ilysm!!!

what remains

summary: after spencer returns from prison, the trauma he endured drives a wedge between him and the one person who loves him most.

pairing: postprison!spencer reid x reader

wordcount: 6.8k

warnings: sad spencer, sad reader, everyones sad, reader drinks like a sip of wine

the apartment is quiet when spencer walks in. it’s late—again. you don’t know where he goes, but he never offers, and you’ve stopped asking.

he drops his keys onto the counter with a dull clink, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion, and you watch from your place on the couch, heart aching at the sight of him. he looks different now. he's been home for months, but the man who walked through your door after prison isn’t the same one who left.

“hey,” you say gently, closing your book and setting it aside.

he glances at you but doesn’t hold your gaze for long. “hey.”

you swallow down the lump in your throat. “did you eat?”

“i'm not hungry.” his answer is clipped, automatic, the same response he’s given you almost every night since he’s been back.

you knew it wouldn’t be easy. that things would be different and he wouldn’t be the same. you had told yourself that over and over in the days leading up to his return, had braced yourself for the changes.

but you'd had hope—hope that, with time, things would settle. that he would come back to you—not just physically, but in the ways that mattered. that he would find his way back to the man he used to be, the man who used to curl up beside you on the couch, rambling about his latest case or a book he was reading. the man who used to laugh, used to smile, used to pull you into his arms like you were the safest place in the world.

but you had underestimated the impression this whole ordeal would leave on him.

it wasn't just in the way he carried himself, the way exhaustion clung to his frame or how the light in his eyes had dimmed. it was deeper than that. it was in the way he recoiled from touch when he used to seek it, in the way his voice lacked the excitement and curiosity it once held. in the distance that stretched between you, widening a little more each day, despite your best efforts to close it.

prison had carved something out of him, something you weren’t sure could ever be replaced. he had been home for months, but a harsh reality was starting to settle in you—that some wounds don’t heal the way you expect them to. some stay raw, lingering beneath the surface, invisible until they make themselves known in quiet moments—in the silence at the dinner table, in the way he avoids your gaze, in the way he flinches at your touch, in the walls he keeps building no matter how hard you try to tear them down.

he didn’t talk about what happened in there, and you didn’t press—even if sometimes curiosity clawed at you. but every laconic response, every empty stare, every night he disappeared without explanation told you more than words ever could. he was still there, trapped in a place you couldn’t seem to reach, and no matter how badly you wanted to, you weren’t sure you ever would.

you exhale slowly, measuring your words before speaking. "spencer, you know what i'm going to say." your voice is soft, careful, but it still makes him flinch, just barely.

"i'm fine," he mutters, turning away from you.

you hesitate, just for a moment, before the words slip out. a quiet, almost embarrassed whisper in the stillness of the room.

"will you at least sit with me for a little while?"

you regret the question the second it leaves your mouth, second-guessing yourself as soon as the vulnerability hits you. it sounds so small, so simple—sit with me, like it’s not asking for much, but in a way, it feels like you’re begging. you feel humiliation crawl up your neck.

"we don't have to talk," you add quickly, trying to soften the weight of your words. "we can just—"

"i'm tired," he interrupts, voice hollow. he’s already moving toward the bedroom, like he can't get away fast enough.

you stare blanky at him, his back already turned to you. you don't say anything. you can't. the words get stuck somewhere in your throat, tangled up with the shock and the sting of his dismissal. you just sit there, still as stone, the weight of his words settling over you like a thick, suffocating fog.

it shouldn't surprise you—this response, this distance, the way he shuts you out without a second thought. it’s been happening for weeks now, a slow unraveling of something that once felt unbreakable. and yet, it does surprise you.

because you still hoped—that he would just sit with you. that it couldn't possibly be that bad that your own husband couldn't sit on the the same goddamn couch as you.

you don’t know if your lack of response matters. maybe it does. maybe that’s why he hesitates in the doorway, fingers gripping the frame as if he's weighing his options. for a second, you think he might turn around, might give you something—anything. but then, just as quickly, he lets go and disappears into the darkness of the bedroom.

you sit there, motionless, as the door to the bedroom clicks shut behind him. the sound feels final, sharp.

the interaction plays in your head. "i'm tired."

the look on his face—or the lack of one. there’s nothing there. no fight, no frustration, not even the faintest trace of a desire to make things right.

you blink, once, twice, trying to shake the fog from your brain, but the shock is still there, thick in your chest. it’s like a pulse, steady and unrelenting, buzzing through your veins. you don’t know what to do with it. how to process it.

at this point, you can hardly recognize yourself. the person you used to be—before all this. you would have never let spencer walk away from that. you would’ve confronted him, spoken your truth, demanded that he listen. you were an opinionated person, it wasn't like you to let someone walk over you—spencer liked that about you. you would’ve never felt embarrassed by something so simple, so vulnerable, said to the man you loved.

the anger bubbles up, creeping through the shock like a slow poison, and suddenly, your skin feels tight. it feels wrong. how dare he? how can he just walk away, leave you in this empty room, in this awful, suffocating silence, after everything you’ve been through together?

surely, you wouldn't do this to him. that thought had crossed your mind before, only to be quickly pushed away by the reminder that you couldn't possibly know what he was going through—what he felt in that place.

but now, the thought clung to you, insistent, refusing to be ignored and with it came another. maybe he didn’t know how to let go of you—maybe he was too afraid to say the words, so instead, he kept hurting you without even realizing it. maybe he thought pulling away was easier than facing the truth. if the roles were reversed, you'd seek him out, wanting his comfort, his presence. so why wasn't he doing the same for you? why was he so unwilling to lean on you—when he had done it a million times before?

the pulse in your neck quickens, blood rushing, and you grip the edge of the couch, knuckles white. you don't even realize you're standing now, the instinct to do something, anything, pushing you forward. your breath comes quick and shallow as frustration and disbelief twist inside you like a knot that you can't untangle.

what are you supposed to do with this? what are you supposed to do when your own husband looks at you like you’re nothing—like you’re some kind of inconvenience he just can’t deal with tonight?

your body moves on its own, your legs carrying you to the door as if they have a will of their own—pyjamas and slippers be damned—the front door slams shut behind you with an almost violent finality. the apartment feels suffocating now, the weight of his absence, of his rejection, too much to bear. you need to leave.

you don’t bother to grab your phone. what would be the point? there’s nothing to say to him anymore—if he would even call. not when you’re standing on the edge of something you can’t even explain to yourself, a frustration and sadness mixing into something unrecognizable.

you walk fast, too fast, the cold air biting at your skin, and it helps. the briskness of the night, the sting of it, gives you a sense of purpose, something to focus on other than the gnawing emptiness inside you. you don’t want to sit in that silence any longer, don’t want to stew in your thoughts, trapped in that apartment where the echoes of your broken attempts at connection are suffocating.

jj’s place isn’t far—just a few blocks—but it might as well be a world away. the walk feels like an eternity, but it’s the only thing you can control right now. you don't have to think about spencer. you don’t have to think about him.

you find yourself at jj’s door, your breath coming out in white clouds, and for the first time tonight, you feel a brief flicker of something approaching relief. you knock twice, hard, before pulling back and pressing your forehead against the doorframe, closing your eyes, letting the coolness of it ground you. what the hell am i doing?

when she opens the door, her eyes widen at the sight of you, but she doesn’t ask. she doesn’t need to. she just steps aside, pulling you in with a soft, understanding smile.

“you okay?” she asks gently, though you know she already knows the answer.

you nod, but only because you don't trust your voice not to break if you speak. she doesn’t push, just closes the door behind you and leads you to the couch. you sit without a word, leaning back against the cushions, closing your eyes, and for the first time in what feels like months, you let yourself breathe.

jj moves toward the kitchen without a word, and you hear the familiar sound of glasses clinking, followed by the admittedly soothing pour of wine. she returns with a glass in each hand, her expression knowing. she hands you one and sits down beside you, settling into the cushions with the kind of ease that makes you wish you could do the same.

"talk to me,” she says, her voice quiet, but firm enough to break the silence that’s settled between you. it’s not a question, really—more like a gentle command, the kind that only someone who knows you can give.

you let out a breath, leaning back into the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment, unsure where to even begin. everything feels like a mess. but her presence, her calm, makes you feel like you might find the strength to sort it out.

“spencer—" you stop yourself, the words catching in your throat. you shake your head, a laugh escaping your lips at the disbelief of your situation. "i don’t even know what to say anymore. i don’t know how we got here. it’s like i don’t even know who he is anymore.”

jj listens, her eyes steady, her hands wrapped around her own glass, but her gaze never wavers. she’s waiting. you know she won’t interrupt.

“i thought... i thought he’d come back to me, you know?” the words slip out before you can stop them, and the sadness that follows hits you harder than anything before. “i thought, with time, things would get better. that i could get him back, the way he was. but... it’s like he’s not even here anymore. i don’t know how to reach him. and when i try, it feels like he just shuts me out more.”

you swallow hard, feeling a sharp sting behind your eyes. it feels pathetic, but you can’t stop it now. you can’t stop the flood of everything that’s been building up, everything you’ve been trying to ignore.

“he’s gone, jj. and i don’t know how to be with someone who’s... not really here,” you say, your voice breaking on the last word.

jj doesn’t say anything at first, just lets you breathe, lets you sit with it for a moment. “i know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but he’s not gone. he’s just... changed. and change is hard. for both of you.”

you scoff softly, shaking your head. “i feel like i'm going crazy."

jj watches you carefully, her gaze unwavering as she processes your words. you feel exhausted—physically, emotionally—like the weight of the past few months has finally settled on your shoulders all at once.

jj studies you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then, she exhales, setting her wine glass down on the coffee table. “you’re not crazy,” she says simply. “you’re grieving.”

that catches you off guard. you blink at her. “grieving?”

she nods. “yeah. you’re grieving the life you had before. the spencer you had before.” she pauses. “and maybe... the version of yourself that existed before all this.”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. you want to argue, to tell her it’s not that simple, that you’re not mourning spencer like he’s some lost cause, but—god—doesn’t it feel like that sometimes? doesn’t it feel like the person you knew, the person you loved, is slipping further and further away?

jj sighs, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “i know what it’s like to watch someone you love disappear into themselves. to feel helpless while they struggle with something you can’t fix.” her voice is softer now, careful, like she’s walking a tightrope. “it’s terrifying.”

your fingers tighten around your wine glass. “so what do i do?” the question comes out more fragile than you want it to, barely above a whisper.

she’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “you—" her words are interrupted by an abrupt sound. jj’s phone is ringing, sharp and sudden in the quiet of the room. you flinch, your heart leaping into your throat before you even see the name on the screen. but you already know.

spencer.

panic grips you, fast and unrelenting, and before you can think, the words spill out. “don’t answer it.”

jj hesitates, glancing at the phone on the coffee table. the screen glows with his name, the sound vibrating between you like a living thing. “he’s your husband,” she says gently, but her fingers hover over the screen instead of answering.

“i don’t care,” you whisper, shaking your head. “please, jj. don’t.”

she studies you, eyes flicking over your face like she’s trying to gauge just how serious you are. if she picks up, you’ll have to hear him—his voice, his clipped tone, his inevitable question: where are you? and what then? you don’t have an answer.

jj sighs, silencing the call but not declining it. the ringing stops, but the silence that follows is almost worse.

“you know he’s worried,” she says carefully. “you left without your phone. you think he’s just going to let that go?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your glass like it’s the only thing tethering you to the moment. “i don’t know,” you admit. “i just—I can’t do this right now. fuck.”

jj shifts closer, her voice calm but firm. “running won’t fix this.”

you let out a short, bitter laugh. “staying hasn't."

she doesn’t have an answer for that.

jj watches you carefully, then sighs. “stay here as long as you need. but at some point, you have to decide—are you going home? or are you walking away?”

your arm is moving suddenly, the wine glass at your lips. her words settle over you like a weight. and for the first time, you realize—you don’t know.

jj's phone buzzes again, and you flinch at the sight of spencer’s name lighting up the screen. the call goes to voicemail, and for a few seconds, there’s nothing but silence.

the phone rings a second time. you can almost hear spencer’s voice in your head, the exact tone he always takes when he doesn’t know what to say.

“I’ll answer it,” jj says softly, but the words feel like a concession rather than a promise. she picks up the phone, and her thumb hovers over the screen.

you don’t stop her, but you wish you could. you wish you could shut everything down, turn it all off.

“spencer?” jj says, her voice calm, controlled.

you close your eyes, hearing his voice crackle through the speaker.

“jj... is she there?” spencer’s voice sounds worn, tight with something just beneath the surface. you can hear the familiar threads of guilt and concern tangled in his words. “i—i don’t know where she went. she just… she left without saying anything.”

jj looks at you, her expression unreadable. you can feel the heat of her stare on you.

“yeah, she's here.” jj finally responds, her words careful. “but she's not ready to talk to you right now, spencer.”

a long pause follows. you can hear spencer’s breath, shallow, like he’s holding something back.

“i just... i just need to know she's okay,” he says, the frustration and desperation clear in his voice. “please.”

you wince at the pleading in his words. it cuts through you in a way you hadn’t expected.

jj looks at you, her expression unreadable, before she glances down at the phone again. you can feel the heat of her stare on you.

“she’s fine,” jj says, with a note of finality. “but I think you need to give her some time. she’s been through a lot, spencer. you both have.”

“time?” Spencer’s voice cracks. “jj, i don’t—“

but she cuts him off. “i’m not getting in the middle of this. just... take care of yourself for now, okay? you’ll talk when she’s ready. she’ll come back when she’s ready.”

the phone goes silent for a moment, and then the faint click of the line disconnecting. jj pulls the phone away from her ear and sets it down on the coffee table with a soft sigh.

jj sits back, her gaze still trained on you, like she’s waiting for something.

the silence in the room feels heavier now. It presses against your chest, and the weight of it makes your thoughts swirl faster than they should. spencer’s voice still echoes in your mind—i just need to know she's okay. you don’t want to admit it, but the desperation in his words cuts deeper than you anticipated. you don’t want to feel guilty. but it settles over you, thick and unavoidable, as you sit on jj’s couch, the comfort of her presence fading into the background.

“he sounded worried,” you murmur, more to yourself than to jj.

she nods, watching you carefully. “of course he’s worried.”

you press your lips together, exhaling slowly. “i didn’t think he’d care that much.” the words taste bitter on your tongue, because the truth is, you had wanted him to care. you had wanted him to call, to ask where you were, to prove—at least to himself—that there was still something left between you worth saving.

and he did.

he did.

but now, sitting here, away from him, away from that apartment, the weight of your actions starts creeping in, cold and insidious.

you left.

you walked out without a word.

you knew what it was like to feel abandoned, to reach for someone and find nothing but empty space. and now you’ve done the same to him.

the realization makes your chest tighten, and suddenly, the fight, the frustration, the resentment—it all feels distant, overshadowed by something heavier. something closer to shame.

jj shifts beside you, her voice quiet but knowing. “you’re thinking about going back.”

you shake your head quickly. “i don’t know.” but it’s a lie. you do know.

you inhale sharply, pressing your palm to your forehead, trying to ground yourself. “god, what am I doing, jj?”

“you’re allowed to feel this, you know,” she says simply. “you’re allowed to be angry. to be hurt. to need space.”

you swallow hard, blinking down at your hands. they feel foreign to you, like they belong to someone else. “i just—” you hesitate, voice cracking slightly. “i just got so mad. he was so dismissive of me, and i couldn't be there anymore.”

“i know.”

you stare down at your lap, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your sweater.

you shake your head, guilt curling in your chest. “but that’s not me, jj. that’s not who I am. i don’t just… walk away. i got angry and i overreacted.”

she sighs. “one moment doesn't define you. things are different now. you've never been in a situation like this before,” she pauses. “sometimes you have to walk away, to get your thoughts in order."

"it would've been worse if you blew up at him." she added.

"i think i still might." you said with a dry laugh.

jj smiled slightly, her gaze softening as she leaned back, “you’ve always been the one to hold things together,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to remind you that it was okay to break sometimes. “but you can’t hold it all in forever. and sometimes… sometimes you need space to breathe, to think. you don’t always have to be the strong one.”

you let out a breath, unsure of what to say next. jj was always good at cutting through the noise, but the guilt still sat heavily in your chest. you couldn’t escape the feeling that walking away—no matter how much you needed to—had been the wrong choice.

jj watches you for a moment, then leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “listen, i know it feels like you did something wrong by leaving, but you didn’t. you needed space. that’s not the same as giving up.”

you nod slowly, staring down at your hands, but you don’t respond.

jj sighs, then reaches over and squeezes your arm. "look, if there’s anyone who understands why you did what you did, it’s spencer. he has spent his life studying human behavior—figuring out how they think and why they do what they do. spencer knows exactly why you walked out, even if he won't admit it. he knows it was about needing space, about trying to make sense of everything that’s been building up between you.”

she pauses, giving you a reassuring look. “this isn’t the end. this is just a bump in the road—you'll go back when you're ready, and you'll start working through it all."

spencer knows why you left.

the thought lingers, easing the guilt that’s been clawing at you since you walked out. maybe that’s why he didn’t come after you. maybe, in his own way, he understood that you needed this moment to step back, to breathe, to process.

you hope—no, you need—to believe that he’s coming to his own realization. that in the quiet of your absence, in the stillness of an apartment that no longer holds your presence, he’s starting to understand. that maybe, just maybe, he’s replaying every word, every moment, and seeing where it all went wrong.

you want him to recognize that pushing you away was a mistake. that shutting you out, closing himself off instead of letting you in, only built more distance between you. and most of all, you hope he understands now—truly understands—that love isn’t about shutting doors, but about keeping them open, even when it’s hard.

the irony of the situation dawns on you. sitting here, hoping he comes to the right conclusion on his own, won’t change anything. no matter how hurt or frustrated you are, you know one thing for certain—you aren’t going to push him away the way he did to you.

you glance at jj, her eyes soft with understanding, and suddenly, you don’t feel as lost as you did before.

“i have to go back,” you murmur, the words feeling right the moment they leave your lips.

jj studies you for a moment before nodding. “yeah, i figured.” there’s no judgment in her voice, only quiet support.

you stand, but before you can say anything, jj speaks again. “i’m driving you.”

you blink at her. “jj, i can—”

"it’s late, and it’s cold,” she interrupts, crossing her arms. “and i know you. you’ll spend the entire walk overthinking, or worse, you’ll turn around and come right back here.”

you open your mouth to argue, but she raises an eyebrow, daring you to fight her on this. you sigh, giving in. “fine. i'll still overthink in the car though.”

jj smirks as she grabs her keys. "yeah, but at least this way, you’ll be overthinking with heated seats and no risk of getting hit by a rogue cyclist."

you roll your eyes, but there's a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "alright, alright. guess I’ll overthink in comfort then." you step outside, the weight of everything that’s about to unfold on your back.

the ride back is quiet, the streets nearly empty as jj navigates the familiar roads. you stare out the window, your finger spinning your wedding band, mind racing with all the possibilities of what comes next.

you wonder how it will be when you walk through that door. will he be surprised to see you? will he be angry? will he apologize? the questions swirl in your mind, but you push them aside—you'll find out in a few minutes either way.

jj pulls up in front of the apartment building and turns to you, her expression gentle. “you don’t have to fix everything tonight,” she reminds you. “just… put all your cards on the table. don't sugarcoat anything.”

you nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervous anticipation. "thank you, jj," you say softly, giving her a small smile. "i don’t know what i would’ve done without you tonight."

she smiles back, her eyes warm with understanding. "you’ll be fine. just be honest, that’s all you can do."

with a final nod, you push the door open, the cold air immediately hitting you as you step out onto the sidewalk. your heart is pounding in your chest, each step towards the apartment feeling heavier than the last.

you twist the handle, it's unlocked, but you hesitate before pushing the door open, gathering your courage in the silent hallway. when you finally step inside, the apartment is quiet—but not empty. a single lamp illuminates the living room, casting long shadows across the walls.

and there's spencer, sitting on the couch hunched over with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

he looks up at the sound of the door, and for a brief moment, his face is completely unguarded. relief washes over his features, followed quickly by something that looks almost like fear. he stands immediately, his movements stiff and uncertain.

"you came back," he says, his voice hoarse.

you close the door behind you, still standing near the threshold. "i started feeling guilty." you sighed, jj's voice in the back of your head—just be honest.

spencer swallows, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. "guilty?" he repeats, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

spencer exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “you shouldn't feel guilty," he murmurs, then shakes his head. "i mean, it makes sense,” he says quickly, his words picking up speed.

“studies show that guilt is often a response to perceived moral transgressions rather than actual wrongdoing. it’s the brain’s way of enforcing social cohesion—an evolutionary mechanism designed to maintain interpersonal relationships by making us feel responsible for potential harm, even when no actual harm has been inflicted.”

you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of disbelief and amusement as he rambled on. it was as if, in the middle of all this, the man you once knew had momentarily resurfaced. even if what he was saying wasn’t at all what you needed to hear right now, a part of you couldn't help but recognize the familiarity in it—the way he always got lost in his thoughts, trying to explain things when he didn’t quite know how to connect.

he shifts on his feet, his words picking up speed. “and in this case, your reaction makes perfect sense. you removed yourself from a heightened emotional situation in order to regulate your response, which, psychologically speaking, is a far healthier alternative to reactive conflict. but then, the cognitive dissonance sets in—the part where your brain tells you that leaving contradicts your usual patterns of behavior, and that discrepancy triggers guilt, even if logically—”

“spencer,” you interrupt gently.

his mouth snaps shut, and for a second, there’s just silence. a flicker of something vulnerable crosses his face, and you realize—he’s rambling because he doesn’t know what else to say. because this is easier for him than actually talking about what matters.

you step forward, closing a bit of the distance between you. “i don’t need an analysis,” you tell him gently. "i just want you to tell me what's going on."

spencer’s gaze flickers for a moment, like he’s trying to find the words, trying to make sense of the situation. "i never wanted you to feel like you needed to leave," he says, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “but i didn’t exactly make it easy for you to stay.”

you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, the weight of everything you haven’t said pressing heavily on your chest. "no, you didn’t," you admit, your voice just above a whisper.

his expression tightens, a flash of something—guilt, maybe—crossing his face before he looks away.

"i've been trying," he says quietly. "i have."

"have you?" the question comes out sharper than you intended, but you don't soften it. "because from where i'm standing, it feels like you've been doing everything possible to push me away."

spencer's gaze snaps back to you, a hint of defensiveness in his eyes. "that's not fair."

"isn't it?" you take another step forward, emboldened by the surge of emotions you've held back for too long. "you won't talk to me. you won't look at me. you won't even sit next to me on the couch. what am i supposed to think, spencer?"

he runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "it's not that simple," he says, his voice strained. "i want to be the person you remember, but i don't know if i can be that man anymore."

the admission hits you like a physical blow. "i'm not asking you to be exactly who you were before," you say softly. "i know that's not possible. i just... i need you to be present. to talk to me. to not shut me out completely."

spencer is quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed on some point beyond you. when he finally speaks, his voice is barely audible. "i don't know how to explain what it was like in there."

your breath catches. this is the closest he's come to talking about prison since he's been home. you don't know if you should say something. you hold your breath, afraid that if you move or speak, he'll retreat again.

his eyes are distant, far away, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even aware of how much you’re hanging on his every word. finally, he exhales slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of it all is too much to bear.

“being in there… it broke something inside of me,” he says, voice low and strained. “i kept thinking about what it would be like to come back, to be here, with you. and then i just—" he paused for a moment. "i had to do something really bad. i had to do things in there that… things i never thought i would do."

"i hate myself for it. every second of it." his voice breaks on the last word, he shakes his head, hands shaking slightly as he runs them through his hair, frustration and guilt radiating from him.

"i wasn't just a victim in there—i became someone i don't even recognize anymore. i did things that went against everything i ever believed in, everything i told myself i would never do."

he looks at you now, and you can see the turmoil in his eyes—the deep-rooted shame and the self-loathing that’s consumed him. "and now i’m back here, with you, and i don’t even know who i am anymore. i’ve become this person who did unforgivable things. you don't deserve someone like me, someone who’s capable of—of that." he gestures vaguely, as if trying to encompass everything that’s happened to him.

"is that why you've been pushing me away?" you ask softly. "because you think i won't love who you are now?"

he doesn't answer, but the way he avoids your gaze tells you everything.

"baby," you whisper, shifting closer to him. "nothing could change how I see you."

you take a slow, unsteady breath, searching for the right words—any words—but everything feels inadequate. how do you explain something that goes beyond language?

"god, spencer," you exhale, shaking your head. "i wish i was better at this. i wish i had the right words, i wish i was some kind of poet, and that i could say the right things to make you understand, but i'm not."

you finally close the gap between you two and take his hands, gripping them tightly, pressing them against your chest as if somehow, if he just feels the way your heart beats for him, he’ll finally understand.

"it’s frustrating," you continue, voice thick with emotion. "because what i feel for you—it’s bigger than me. it’s bigger than words. i can’t explain it, and i hate that, because i need you to know. i need you to understand that this isn’t something breakable, something you can ruin, something you can chase away just because you think you should."

he swallows hard, his fingers curling around yours, but he doesn’t speak. maybe he can’t.

"i swear, spencer, if there was a way to pull this feeling out of me and give it to you, i would. if i could make you see yourself the way i see you, make you understand that what you did—what you had to do—doesn’t make you unworthy of love, i would do it in a heartbeat." your voice breaks slightly, tears now lining your eyes. "because i don’t just love you. it’s not that simple. it’s not just some feeling, some thing i could ever put into words. it’s more. it doesn’t begin or end with what you’ve done, or what’s happened to you, or who you think you’ve become. it just is."

he lets out a shaky breath, his eye are now wet, shining under the dim apartment light, his lips parted slightly like he wants to argue but can’t find the strength to. because maybe, just maybe, for the first time—he’s starting to believe you.

"i just wish—i wish you could feel it," you murmur, voice breaking. "i wish you could step into my skin, into my heart, and know how much i love you."

you don’t realize you’re crying until he reaches up, hesitantly, brushing his fingers against your cheek like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he touches you. his hand is shaking, but he doesn’t pull away.

spencer’s expression falters, something breaking inside of him, and when he finally—finally—pulls you into his arms, it’s not desperate or frantic. his arms wrap around you slowly, almost reverently, as though he's trying to let the feeling of your love wash over him, to understand it the way you do.

at first, it’s just the slightest tremble in his shoulders, so faint you almost miss it. but then you feel it—the shaky exhale against your neck, the way his fingers clutch at the fabric of your shirt like he’s afraid to let go. and then, slowly, silently, he starts to break.

his breath hitches, and before he can stop it, a quiet sob escapes him, muffled against your shoulder. his body shakes, all the pain and guilt unraveling all at once, and all you can do is hold him through it. his hands grasp at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the present, like if he lets go, he’ll disappear into everything he’s been trying so hard to contain.

you don’t say anything. you don’t tell him it’s okay, because you know he wouldn’t believe it. or maybe because it isn't. but it will be. you'll make sure of that.

your fingers thread through his hair, your lips press against his temple, and you whisper the same words over and over, a promise and a lifeline: "i love you. i love you. i love you."

you stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, the weight of everything that’s happened still lingering in the air between you. but it’s different now. lighter, somehow. not because everything is fixed—there are still conversations to have, wounds to tend to, pieces of him he hasn’t shown you yet.

but for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re on the same side again. you’re not standing in separate corners, silently blaming each other for things you can’t control.

the weight in your chest, the anxiety that has gnawed at you since that day you got the call about him being detained, begins to fade. you don’t need to fix everything tonight. you don’t need to have all the answers.

his breathing begins to steady, the tears slowing, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a raw whisper as he says the only thing he can in this moment. “i’m sorry.”

you close your eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. “i know,” you whisper.

there's a beat of silence. "i've been having nightmares," he says, his voice so low you have to strain to hear him. "almost every night. that's where i go sometimes—i walk before going to bed. i walk so that i'm exhausted enough that my mind shuts down."

the sudden admission breaks your heart—but there's also a part of you that feels relief. relief that he wasn't turning to something worse or someone else to numb the pain.

"spencer, you could have told me." you said, fingers rubbings patterns into his back.

"i didn't want to burden you more than i already have," he says, shaking his head. "you've already been through so much because of me."

"that's not how this works," you say, squeezing his hand. "just forget all of that, okay? things will be different now. you not talking to me hurts more than that ever could."

he leans into you, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "i'm sorry," he whispers. "for pushing you away. for making you feel like you weren't enough. you've always been enough."

you lift a hand to his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you take in the exhaustion lining his features—the weight he’s been carrying alone for too long. slowly, carefully, you lean in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. just a warm, quiet reassurance that you’re here, that you’re staying.

when you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, and he lets out a quiet sigh, his breath warm against your skin. he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "do you want to go to bed?" he asks, voice low.

you pause for a moment, you hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were until his mention of sleep. your shoulders feel heavy, and your body aches from the emotional toll it’s taken.

a deep, almost instinctual sigh escapes your lips, and you nod softly, “yeah."

spencer squeezes your hand gently and leads you toward the bedroom. the moment the covers are pulled back, you slip under the soft sheets, the cool fabric against your skin offering the smallest comfort after everything you've been through. spencer follows you in, his body warm and reassuring as he settles beside you.

he moves closer, carefully wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten. you rest your head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you. his presence, steady and constant, washes over you like a balm, soothing the frantic, scattered thoughts in your mind.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back, the rhythm soothing, and you realize just how much you've missed this—missed him.

you close your eyes, letting the weight of everything melt away as you drift closer to sleep. spencer’s voice is soft, a comforting murmur as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"i love you."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #prison reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #postprison!spencer

54 notes · View notes

serxa · 1 day ago

Text

THE PRINCE HAS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY—PART 3—THIRTEEN

PART 1 PART 2

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: It's Telemachus' last day with Y/n.

Sorry if this took SOOO long to post, Wattpad has been bugging recently, and yes, I write in wattpad but post it here. Thank you for all the support:)

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 Telemachus had been working for Y/n's family business. When Y/n's father started to notice that he was finally getting good at pottery, even learning the clay animals thanks to Y/n, he decided he'll let him work for one more day until he sends him off.

But Telemachus doesn't know that today was his last day of work. He happily walked towards the market, with his bag of scrolls and parchment that had all of the sales he had made the past few weeks he has been working for Y/n's family business.

When he met up with Y/n, oh God's how he thought she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. But Y/n doesn't know anything about Telemachus' feelings. Hell, not even Telemachus knows for himself. He denies it, saying she's just a work colleague... She's a lot oblivious than she really is. "Morning, Tel." Y/n waved at him while he walked over.

He felt a weight on his shoulder suddenly disappear and waved back. "Morning Y/n." He smiled softly and they started walking to the shop to open up. Telemachus choice to work early and to get off the same time Y/n does too, which did make Penelope and Y/n's parents cock an eyebrow at him, but they just agreed.

"Could you open the shutters for me?" Y/n sighed, stretching a bit. She's different from the normal girls here in Ithica. Almost every woman is wearing chitons and doesn't help in shops, yet, Y/n is an amazing person with pottery and sculpting, working at her parents shop, and wearing a tunic and their long sleeve uniforms.

"Yeah, of course." Telemachus murmured before opening the draped and shutters. They started unpacking the stuff, putting them back onto the shelves, tracking what's the hottest deals, counting how many left are in stock and if they need to sculpt. "I'm so.. Tired." Y/n murmured, yawning as she stretched back once again.

"What time did you sleep?" Telemachus asked as he carefully unpacked the glass swan he was holding. "A bit late than usual.." She answered as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm. Telemachus smiled softly at the look of her sleepy state. "Need, I don't know, coffee? After unpacking we could get a cup and go back here.." Telemachus offered as he put the storage box away. Y/n thought about the offer and smiled, nodding. "Yeah, sure.." She agreed, as she started to help unpack.

As the two did their own business, Y/n's father appeared and started to have a bit of small talk with them, before he looked over at Telemachus. "Boy, it's your last day, me and your mother agreed on it. We saw that you have been a good help here in the shop, and I think you've paid much more than enough for your debt here." He smiled at Telemachus.

When Telemachus heard her father's statement, he suddenly felt a weight of his shoulders add, his shoulder sagging a bit. When he was finally getting attached to the shop, loving pottery, enjoying waking up early, and being her, oh especially being with her. He glanced over at Y/n who was also staring at him. "O-Oh, uh.." He turned his eyes back to Y/n's father. "Yeah, thank you for letting me know." Telemachus forced a smile.

Once Y/n's father left, ne continued to unpack. "Is there anymore boxes?" He asked Y/n, who was starting to open the drums of clay. "Uhh.." She turned her head to see nothing but empty storage boxes. "None, so.. About that coffee." She smiled at Telemachus, that practically made him weak to the knees and toes.

"Oh, still want to grab a cup?" He smiled, and she immediately nodded, taking her small pouch of money. As they walked through the market, since the coffee grounds and coffee shops were at the very end, Telemachus noticed how weary Y/n was today.

She was limply walking as she counted her money. "Everything alright?" Telemachus asked, putting his hands in his pocket as they walked with a small distance between them. "Yeah, just tired.." She murmured, which Telemachus still didn't believe, but didn't want to push her too much.

He started to lean closer as they continued walking, and Y/n catched on. She hooked her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder, which made Telemachus feel a sort of giddy inside him, but he quickly shoved it away. 'This is just to help her..' He reminded himself as they reach the small coffee and tea shop.

Y/n took her arm away from Telemachus' and ordered two cups of coffee for them. As they waited Telemachus was whistling, a new skill he actually learned a day ago. "Didn't know you could whistle." Y/n suddenly commented, which made him stop and smile sheepishly. "Yeaaah just.. Learned a new trick."

"New trick? Are you a dog? It's skill." Y/n corrected him. Telemachus was used to Y/n correcting him like this, but there are times where they both act dumb which they ask her parents for help then. "Right, skill." Telemachus nodded and they got their cup of coffee.

They sat on the small tables outside of the standee and started to drink their coffee. "I love their coffee, it a different flavor." Y/n admired the cup of coffee while she kicked her legs from under the table. "It has a zest to it." Telemachus stated as he blew the coffee to cool it down. "I know! That's why I love it." Y/n said happily, her charismatic and energetic side showing again.

"There's that energy." Telemachus raised his eyebrows, smiling at Y/n as he watched Y/n get her energy back. "Well, a good cup of coffee is what a simple person like me needs to get the day started." She said proudly. "Woah woah, too many syllables." Telemachus teased as he raised his hands playfully, making Y/n scoff and chuckle. "I'm sorry that your teeny tiny brain can't comprehend more than 16 syllables in one statement." She retorted with a teasing smirk.

Telemachus sipped his coffee and rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey, I can comprehend! I can comprehend good." He laughed and Y/n couldn't help but laugh also. Once they finishes their cup of coffee, and started walking back to the shop, they saw the other standee's and shops start to open also, restocking, opening shutters, all of that.

When they were back in the shop, up and running, Telemachus was practicing how to mold clay animals as Y/n read a book, both of them waiting for rush hour, where all of the sales pile in. Y/n looked up at Telemachus, watching as his eyebrows knit together as he carefully sculpted the play, wearing their uniforms and his hair tousled. He kept a serious expression, really all his attention on the sculpting clay in his hands, carefully holding it, not squeezing it or anything, just carefully holding it so it would turn out good.

Y/n turned her attention back to her book, shaking her head a bit as to remind herself about what she was reading. After a while, the customers started to pile in, and the two worked diligently with their tasks. Meanwhile, in Telemachus' head, was just one thing. Today was his last day of work. He won't be able to see Y/n unless he goes to the market, but he doesn't want to be obvious also!

He served one customer and once they left, he started to turn a plan in his head, the years turning with a crinking sound with each turn, trying to form a plan on how to spend time with her. It's already twelve in the afternoon, Y/n's parents giving the two food and as they ate, Telemachus was trying to find a reason to continue working here. It's hardest to explain to his mother, Penelope, especially that he doesn't want his mother to know or at least expect he likes someone now.

Does he even like her? He was in a spiral, not even getting his own feelings, how is Y/n able going to comprehend them? He sighed before taking a big bite of food before looking up at Y/n, who was starting to talk about her book. Telemachus smiled softly, humming after every statement, indicating that she was listening to her yapping. "But the author only made this book! It's annoying, only this? Their writing is ethereal!" She rambled, making Telemachus chuckle softly as he watched her grumble over the book.

"Maybe I could read it also once your done.." He murmured. "I mean, sure, you can. Only if I'm done." She smiled and Telemachus nodded in agreement. "Deal?" He raised his hand for a hand shake, which she gladly took. Telemachus couldn't help but think about how soft her hands were, like you just put ten pounds of lotion on their hands, and how warm her hands were.

Y/n on the other hand, couldn't help but think how soft his hand were also. And how bigger they were compared to hers. His hand was skinny and lean also, just like him, but his fingers were long and could easily clasp around her entire hand. Once they pulled away and continued eating, Telemachus could feel his cheeks burn a bit, indicating he was blushing. He quickly got rid of it before Y/n could notice his blush.

"The delas set, you're reading the book after I do and you're going to talk to me all about it!" She giggled, making Telemachus smile, knowing that Y/n also wants to continue talking to him even though he wouldn't be working there anymore. "Mhm." He took another spoonful of food, bringing it up to his mouth and ate it, watching as Y/n did that same. The two were finally starting to warm up to eachother..

Once the clock ticked three in the afternoon, Telemachus knew it was time for his out from work. He hadn't formulated a decent plan that wouldn't get him into too much trouble, so he just decided to let go and stop working, his contract was off and he wasn't sure if they we're even finding a new employee. And gosh, how shy he was to go back here everyday just to spend time with Y/n, its a stupid thing, really. He's just making it look like he likes her...

As he took the boxes from the storage room to unpack all of the vases and animals, he looked over at Y/n. "So how's your last day? Feeling happy that you're finally out of this hell hole?" She smirked as she leaned on the table, watching as he unpacked, placing the work of arts in the boxes for future sellings.

"Actually, I might miss it." He shrugged. "I know I don't get paid, nor I haven't even stayed here for more than 2 months, but I gotten used to how we do stuff around here. And our morning coffees. Lunches with you.. Free time with you. Y'know?" He chuckled awkwardly after realizing that he was rambling about you, wishing you don't catch on and think that he likes you, cause even he wasn't sure if he did. "Huh, really?" She said, propping herself on her palms, her tone dripping with tease.

"Hey, don't tease me now." He chuckled, making her grin. "I apologize, Prince of Ithica." She said softly, knowing she would have to start using that title once again. "Pssh, hearing that from you is a new thing." He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "What? It's true though." She giggled as Telemachus put the boxes back in the storage room.

"But hearing it form you is new.." He hummed, taking his bag, knowing that this might be their last conversation before he hides himself in his room, too scared to even look at her, knowing his feelings would just drive him into the biggest spiral mess he has ever been in before. Simply just by looking at her, makes him think that he likes you. But he also knows that he doesn't. But knowing that he likes you, also makes him remember he doesn't like you. It's really confusing, for him also.

He just wanted to nestle inside of his room and never look at her ever again. How is he going to ever explain this to her is he decided to confess? Does he need to get his shit and thoughts straight? He doesn't want to hurt her with false hope.. Suddenly, a snap made him shake his head, coming back to reality. "Huh?" He blinked, as he saw a confused Y/n in front of him, still leaning on the table she was leaning to earlier.

"You going home now?" She asked, tapping the table as she had a soft frown on her face. "Oh.. Uh-.. Yeah, I do. I-I am, sorry." He turned pink as he stumbled on his words. Y/n smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, so.. Let's go and close." She said softly taking the keys and her bag. As they closed the shutters and put back the drapes, Y/n suddenly felt a sense of longing. She didn't want to see Telemachus leave yet. Everything was so confusing.

"Uh.. I'll see you... Whenever I see you?" Telemachus said awkwardly, making Y/n's shoulders sag a bit as she realized that Telemachus wasn't planning on seeing her tomorrow. "Ah.. Uh, yeah.. Yeah, see you whenever I see you." She repeated, forcing a soft smile he normally gives him. Telemachus nodded and looked around before his eyes travelled back to you. "Bye.." He murmured.

"Bye."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After a few days after Telemachus' last day, it was all so boring, no one to hang out with any more, and no more reason to wake up early again.

"It's been a while since you and Y/n have talked. You aren't going out of the house much again." Penelope said as Telemachus was hanging out in his parents room, as Penelope weaved a shroud. Telemachus suddenly froze at the mention of her name.

Y/n, the girl who was messing with his head. He never knew what love felt like. Is it supposed to make your her at ache or make you confused? Is it supposed to be annoyingly stubborn and never leave your head? How he feels about Y/n, gosh he just admits it, he likes her. He likes Y/n. How he misses his mornings, noons and nights with her, how the two talk about their interests and later on find out that you two both like that one topic. He loves how her eyes lights up when she see's him walking towards the market, how she leans on a nearby wall, table or chair as she watches Telemachus work...

How... Pretty she is.

Telemachus cleared his throat and started. "... I just... I just w. Have something in my head about Y/n." He started off, making Penelope curious. "That is..?" She waited as she continued weaving. "... I may or may not be developing big feelings for her, like big big, like big that I want to he with her. As a.. Partner.." He rambled. Making Penelope raise her eyebrows. Seeing Telemachus in love is not normal, he had always been busy protecting his mother from the suitors, being by her side as they longed for Odysseus to get home, so seeing him Inlove, is a crazy scenario.

"It's just.. She's so diligent. So hard working, she could serve up to 10 customers at once and could do pottery and sculpting. Gosh, in a span of short weeks, she managed to teach me how to do pottery... And how pretty she is, her eyes soften when she looks at me, her smile is so perfect with every crease and dimple forming on her cheeks and chin, even the side of her eyes creases when she smiled, her nose scrunching up when she's focused,she's like a rabbit, I swear, she's adorable." He rambled to his mother, covering his face as he groaned in his hands.

Penelope chuckled softly and hummed, looking at his now, lovesick son. "... You know... You could take the risk to be with her.. See if she likes you back." Penelope reassured her son as she counted the strings and skeins of yarn for her shroud. "I just.. I need time. I can turn my face towards her just yet, I need to let my feelings straight. Thanks mother." He sighed, standing up. "It's a good idea for making sure first." She hummed. When she saw Telemachus stand up, she cleared her throat. "Bye now, Telemachus." She smiled softly and he just waved goodbye. "Bye mother."

Fun fact, I wrote the last paragraph half asleep, so I apologize if it sounds nonsense

#𝄞♩♪serxa posts #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #telemachus epic the musical #telemachus x reader #telemachus #legendary epic the musical

54 notes · View notes

varpusvaras · 9 hours ago

Text

Cody was right where Fox had known he would be.

Fox watched his back for a moment, before he looked at Rex. He was a little paler and a bit more grey than the last time Fox had seen him, and only one of those things had something to do with age. Fox watched for another moment how Rex's chest would rise with his breaths, before he decided that he had stood there silent for long enough.

"Cody."

Cody's back straightened like he had been hit by a lightning. Fox watched as he stood there, for a second, two, five, ten, his whole body rigid, before he finally seemed to regain control of himself and turned around to face him.

Cody looked...

Old.

It was the first thought Fox could manage to think. Tired was perhaps the word that would suit his outlook better, now that he had had the time to think for a moment longer, but it was not incorrect either. The Cody that Fox would see inside his head was like he had been when everything had been good. Tall, proud, brighter than all the suns in the universe.

The Cody standing before him now had more grey in his hair than Fox had ever had, and had the outlook of a man who had spent a better part of the past twenty years in deep sorrow.

Fox looked at this Cody, who looked back at him, with a look in his eyes that Fox knew all too well. He had seen the very same look on his own reflection too many times, after all.

He waited for Cody to decide.

He didn't have to wait for long.

Cody moved. He took a step, then another, his feet picking speed, his eyes never leaving Fox as he walked across the room towards him.

Then he was right in front of Fox, and he wrapped his arms around Fox and held onto him like his whole life depended on it.

Fox held him back just as tight.

They stood there for a long while. Fox did not know what he should say, so he stayed quiet, and for the time being, it seemed that Cody was content on doing the same. It did not bother Fox. This was the Cody that Fox still remembered, the one with arms stronger than all the forces in the Galaxy.

Nothing could last forever, though, and eventually, Fox heard Cody draw in a long breath, as if he was bracing himself, and then he finally stood back enough to look at Fox in the eyes again.

Fox looked back, letting Cody search whatever he was looking for. Fox was the one who had to answer for things, so it was only fair that he let Cody ask all the questions first.

Cody reached up with his hand. His fingertips howered at Fox's temple, hesitating for a few seconds, before he carefully brushed them against Fox's face.

His hands were still warm.

"Your hair is black", Cody said.

"It's dyed", Fox told him. No defining traits to anyone to recognise him by. "I'm still the one who started to look old before anyone else, don't worry."

Cody let out a breathy laugh. It was more like a strangled wheeze, if Fox was being perfectly honest.

"You don't look old", he said. He swallowed hard between his words. "You look...alive."

Something constricted around Fox's lungs.

"Yes", he said.

Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say. Cody shook his head, and then he let it fall forwards, leaning against Fox, and hiding his face at his chest. His back trembled with his next breath.

"You're alive", he said.

Fox nodded.

"Yes", he said. "I'm sorry."

Cody laughed again, louder this time. More shaky, too.

"Don't", he said. "Just...don't. Okay?"

"Okay", Fox said.

This was too easy. Way too easy for Fox, to have Cody to just hug it out like this. Cody deserved everything from Fox, and Fox nothing from him.

Here Fox was, still, just letting it happen, just because he had missed his brother.

They stood there for another moment in silence.

"How?" Cody asked, finally. "Why?"

For this, Fox was prepared.

"I was as good as dead", he said. "In a very, very real way. I failed to comply with Vader's orders, even with the chip telling me to follow every word given to me without question. Maybe I just never was that good of a soldier, after all. He snapped my neck and left me there to die on my own."

He still remembered it, no matter how much he had wanted to forget. The way he could only lie there, his body already numb, and just waiting for his lungs to run out of air, not able to make himself draw any more in.

He could still hear it, the noise his bones had made as they had cracked under the invisible force. Fox knew by now that he could never be able to forget it, either.

Cody didn't say anything, and Fox took it as his sign to continue.

"Bail had found out about the chips by that point", he said. "He was trying to get me out of there, as well as any Jedi still on Coruscant, so when he heard about the operation, he had made his way at the Temple as well, waiting to see if there was any opportunity for him to act. He saw it all. He kept me alive with his own hands until they could move me out from there."

That part Fox did not remember, and he was glad that he didn't. It was selfish of him, to be happy about the fact that he had not needed to see Bail watch him die, on top of everything.

Cody's hand slipped down from his face, his fingers wrapping around the back of his neck. Fox held back a shudder. It was not the same. Cody's hand was warm.

"I spent a long time barely awake, going from one operation to another." All of that, Fox could remember, but only in hazy, unfocused flashes of sounds and blurry images. "Breha had had her lungs and heart replaced years ago, and they managed to get the same technology to work on me, eventually, reconnecting my spine and nerves. I then spent even longer time learning how to use my body again."

That, he remembered all. It had, thankfully, not been the worst part of his life.

Cody still didn't say anything. He ran his fingers down Fox's neck, pressing onto the skin, feeling for the bones beneath it. The break was still there. Fox knew exactly where it was, as during the worst of it, he was all too aware of the feeling of his body having been separated from itself.

"I still...it never really healed, completely." It never would, but Fox had learned to take whatever he could a long, long time ago. "Sometimes I lose the feeling of my own body and my legs won't move and my hands will shake, but I'm-"

"Still here", Cody said against his chest. His hand pressed hard into Fox's skin, strong and warm. "You're still here."

Fox breathed through all of the emotions swirling inside him.

"Yes", he said.

Cody didn't say anything.

Fox had to tell him.

"I didn't want to leave you", he hurried to say. "I swear I didn't. Please, Cody. I swear. I had to take care of Leia. She was so small and she needed me and the only thing I could do right was to take care of her. I needed to do it, Cody. She needed me."

I needed her, Fox did not say, but he wouldn't be surprised if Cody could still hear it. I needed her, because loving her was the only thing there was left for me to do for any of us.

If nothing else, Cody could probably hear the way Fox's heart was beating inside his chest right then.

Cody's hand was warm against the back of Fox's neck.

"I know", Cody said, then, like it was really that simple. "I'm just happy that you're here now."

He lifted his head then, and he looked Fox in the eyes and smiled.

"Fox", he said, like he was simply greeting him after a long time apart, and maybe, it could be that simple.

Maybe. Maybe not. But for now, it was, and Fox had missed his brother.

He would take what he was given.

#at long last! it's here! the fabled Cody and Fox reunion!#how long has this been coming (way too long)#there's still much to say and too many feelings but there's no way they can say it all at once #so a hug is a good place to start #ignore rex being unconscious in the background. he's fine. just let him rest #also as a reminded in my verses the clones age at a regular pace after being deployed #so they are like in their forties physically atm #stress is still making them all go grey early lmao #sw #tcw #my writing #Star Writing #Commander Fox #Commander Cody #bail/breha/fox #in the background #Post Order 66 AU

38 notes · View notes

forestdeath1 · 2 days ago

Text

Prongsfoot microfic. Hope.

WC ≈ 1700. TW: swearing, internalised homophobia, underage drinking

"I love you, Sirius," James, looking rather sloshed, mumbles as he tries to wrap his arms around Sirius's neck. "Do you… love me?" His ability to talk properly is definitely falling apart.

"Of course I do. Everyone does" Sirius answers calmly, trying to keep James from falling to the floor.

Gryffindor had a Quidditch victory party after beating the shit out of Slytherin. At some point at the height of merriment, James and Peter decided to see who could drink more firewhiskey straight from the bottle. It was a pretty bad idea, Sirius knew that, but he didn't stop any of them from their teenage urge to explore all facets of bad decisions.

When the party came to an end and all their friends scattered to the dorms, James asked Sirius to stay with him for a little longer to have one more dram of whiskey, just making idle chitchat. Sirius shrugged uncertainly, thinking about the ability of James to drink more, but he looked sober (not really) enough, and… well, one more round of whiskey never killed anybody, did it?

That was a mistake, because James wanted one more. Then he asked Sirius for a drag – for the first time in his life – and then felt bad, and then poured himself another glass of whiskey justifying it with a need to rinse the awful taste of a fag from his mouth. Until Sirius finally took the last bottle away, and with a distinct sternness in his voice, said James had had enough. James didn't even try to argue, he just looked at Sirius and said:

"I love you, Sirius. Do you… love me?"

"Of course I do. Everyone does"

James chuckles and tightens his grip around Sirius's neck more.

"Come on, James, let's get you to bed. You need sleep. Trust me, mate, otherwise, tomorrow, I'm afraid you'll curse all of us out of pure hatred toward any form of life"

James apparently has nothing more to say, he just stares at Sirius with that deer look on his face and smiles – either gently or absentmindedly, hard to tell.

As soon as they're in their dorm, Sirius gets James into his bed. After a quick freshening up in the bathroom, Sirius climbs into his own, enjoying the cool sheets after this bloody long day with no extraneous thoughts. Not even about James confessing his love. Nothing strange about it, really, it happens every time James gets drunk. So Sirius is used to it. He knows there's nothing to overthink – it's just James's usual pissed charming self.

James has told Remus he loves him many times in this sloshed state. He's said it to Peter too. And everyone in this bloody castle knows that James is hopelessly in love with Lily. Unreciprocated, but still.

So there is definitely nothing to think about.

Nothing at all.

Sirius is about to fall asleep as he feels someone opening his bed curtains and trying to crawl in.

"James?"

"Mhm. It's boring there. Do you mind if I…"

"Fuck, James, we're not 15 anymore, and there is no space–"

"Thanks," James interrupts without any hesitation and comfortably nestles in beside Sirius.

"The pleasure is all mine", Sirius mutters, a hint of accepting fate and sarcasm in his voice.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Can't say the same for me."

James props himself up on his elbows and looks at Sirius, a mild grin on his face. Sirius arches an eyebrow, waiting for James to say something, but he just keeps staring at him in that strange way. Sirius feels his chest tighten at that closeness of his best friend.

He should be used to this by now, the same way he's used to James's drunken nonsense talking. But he hasn't manage. And Sirius is afraid he never will.

"You know what, Padfoot?" murmurs James in a soft voice

"Enlighten me."

"You didn't answer my question"

"Sorry?"

"I asked you if you love me"

"And I said–"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. I'm drunk, not a mindless idiot. But that wasn't an answer. That was bullshit"

"Well, James, if you don't like my answers, you can peacefully fuck off"

James grins, but even in the dark Sirius can see the softness in his eyes. James reaches out to brush a lock of hair from Sirius's face. A tingling sensation spread through Sirius's body.

Fuck. Why is it always like this?

"I just wanna know if you love me the way I love you"

Silence falls between them.

James probably has no fucking idea how painful this is for Sirius – the endless love confessions, even if they're just friendly. The way he's always around, too close, too suffocating. The way he so damn casually demands answers from Sirius, completely oblivious to how much it all actually matters to him. Sirius is abso-fucking-lutely sure James has no clue just how important it really is.

James asks Sirius to say something he simply can't say. He can't. And he doesn't want to. Because there is no point in that. Because it's terrifying. Even dangerous. There's love that's fated to die inside of you, and that's the bitter poetry of life that Sirius accepted from the very first moment he realised his feelings for his best friend.

But when James is this close – when Sirius can smell moss, whiskey, and sweat, when James touches him, presses against him, so easily, so gently – for a brief moment it feels like there's something more. Something deeply mutual. Something beyond friendship.

Damn, what a load of sappy rubbish. Sirius shouldn't think like that. Just shouldn't.

"Sirius. Do you love me the way I love you?" James insists. The smug grin has faded from his face giving way to a drowsy, drunken, but stubborn stare.

James won't remember a damn thing anyway. Not after all that alcohol.

And Sirius? He could never lie to James.

(Or is this just a wretched attempt to absolve himself of the sin of a reckless confession?)

"I love you more than you can imagine, James" Sirius mutters as if ashamed of saying it aloud.

Fuck, that sounded pathetic.

But James just flashes that stupid, broad grin again. Of course he does. This drunk animal got exactly what he wanted — validation — without the faintest clue what Sirius’s words really meant.

It's for the best though. This is how it should be – James shouldn't have a single doubt about…

Sirius barely registers when James's lips find his. He doesn’t know how he ends up kissing him back, how his body just reacts on instinct. He doesn't realise when James's fingers tangle into his hair.

How long does it last? 5 seconds? Ten?

Sirius gently pushes James away. Soft but firm.

"James, no"

"Why?"

Why?

Because Sirius knows it's better not to let drunk people make important decisions – and kissing your best friend, who, by some cruel joke of fate, happens to be a guy, is definitely and important decision. One James might seriously regret.

Because James is completely wasted. Because he just wants to kiss anybody.

Because it's not about Sirius at all – he's just convenient for James's drunken lust.

Because if Sirius really succumbs to this temptation, if he lets this happen, and James remembers, it will ruin everything.

Not to mention Sirius thinks it's completely unfair to kiss someone who can't fully comprehend what the fuck they're doing.

And what then? Awkward pauses. Stolen glances. And a friendship that crumbles.

Sirius can't sacrifice James-the-friend-for-life just to get James-the-lover-for-a-minute, no matter how badly he wants to.

Because it's not right. It's not fair. It shouldn't be this way. And it never will be.

"Because I don't want to," Sirius lies. He has to. It's the only thing that will stop James now – a clear rejection.

"You don't believe me, do you?" A barely concealed disappointment in James's voice. "That I love you – you don't believe me"

"James, stop it"

"I love you"

Fuck, that hurts. Sirius thought he was used to James's confessions, but after everything that just happened, it stings all over again. Once more, that ugly miserable hope claws its way back into his chest – the hope that James actually means it. Not that Sirius doesn't cherish James's love as a friend. He does, more than anything. But a longing heart always wants more. And he thought he'd put all that behind him. He really did.

Merlin, his mother was right – Sirius really is pathetic.

He really fucking is.

"Say that when you're sober, ok?"

"And will you let me kiss you then?"James smirks, leaning in closer.

"Fuck off, James. For Merlin's sake," Sirius snaps, shoving him away. He turns away, forcing himself not to break. Maybe he just should to move to James's bed since James is so fucking glued to his.

An awkward ringing silence stretches between them.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," James mutters, a slight guilt lacing his voice. "I really am. I didn't think you'd react like this… I thought it'd be fun"

"Nothing to apologise for"

"Still, I am sorry. And…" James pauses as if he's trying to find the right words. "Look, don't think that I'm… you know… like that…"

This hits straight to the chest.

"Like what?" Sirius immediately turns around to face James again. He stares at him, arching a brow – waiting, maybe even daring.

"I'm not gay," James blurts embarrassed. If not for the darkness, Sirius could swear that James was red to the tips of his ears.

"You think that's the problem? That I might think you're gay?" Sirius asks, his voice laced with dry amusement, just enough bite to be cruel.

"Uhm.. yeah? That's why you're pissed, right? You thought I was hitting on you, and–"

"Holy fuck, James. You're such a fucking idiot" Sirius cuts him off. "Get the fuck off my bed. Right now."

"Pads–"

"Now, James. Or I'll throw you off myself. And trust me, that will fucking hurt."

"Alright, alright"James raises his hands in surrender and slides off the bed. "Listen, mate, I swear, I didn't mean–"

"Sleep it off, and we'll talk tomorrow." Sirius doesn't let James finish his stupid justifications. "If you even remember anything," and then he yanks the curtains shut just in James's stupid, drunk face.

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #bambibelle #prongsfoot microfic #the marauders

51 notes · View notes

l-starsz · 3 hours ago

Note

Billie convincing reader to let her eat her pussy on her period

I'm inlove with your fics, you're such a damn good writer 🫶🏽🫶🏽

a/n: this probably isn’t great because i’m SOOO tired and my head is pounding rn but i hope it’s good at least🥲 and thank you so much ml!! i’m so sorry this took ages for me to write🫶

billie and i were laying in bed together, watching a movie. her back was resting against the comfy pillows on our bed, whilst my back was resting against her front. i was sat between her legs, and her hands were lightly resting against my thighs. we were both intrigued in the movie, or so i thought. whilst i was watching, and keeping up with the storyline, billies hands began to wander. they roamed up my stomach, cupping my boobs gently, before moving down again to this time, rest against my inner thighs.

i really tried to focus on the movie, but i just couldn't with her hands all over me. i knew nothing could happen, i was on my period, which meant that i had to wait a few more days until she could touch me. i'd been so horny. i was desperate for her, but we both knew that nothing could be done about it. well, she could fix my horniness, but i felt bad for asking her to do that when i was on my period. so i waited, and somehow put up with the feeling of being unbearably horny almost all day, every day.

soon enough, i felt her pressing light kisses behind my ear, down my neck, before lightly whispering in my ear.

"can i try something, baby?"

i slightly turned in her arms so that i could see her face, before answering her in a hushed tone.

"and what would that be, hm bil?"

"please can i taste you?"

my eyebrows furrowed and i looked away as i wondered why she was even asking. she knew i was on my period. she'd practically been taking care of me for the last few days. grabbing me a hot water bottle, or holding me in her arms whenever my cramps worsened. getting me whatever food i wanted when i was craving something. making sure i was drinking plenty of water. she really was the best. i just didn't understand why she was asking this now.

"i.. baby, you know i'm still on my period."

"i know.. i just can't wait!! i want to taste you please, love. i'll do anything."

i hesitated slightly. what if i made a mess, and then she got mad? what if i didn't taste good? she must have noticed the look on my face because she began speaking again.

"if you're not comfortable with this, then we don't have to do it. but i promise you that you don't need to overthink it, there should be no what if's filling your mind. you know i love you no matter what. i think you're the most perfect girl in the world."

how did she know?

it was like she could read my mind.

"pleaseeee? pinky promise i'll take great care of you, angel. just like always. pretty please?"

if i hadn't been so horny for the last few days, i probably would've said no, but that side of my brain just took over. i needed her so so bad. i reminded myself that she would always love me. this wasn't going to change that. she wanted this just as much as i did.

"if i say yes, can you put a towel down? you know.. just in case?" i mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"of course, angel. whatever makes you feel the most comfortable." she answered me, placing soft kisses on my forehead.

once i'd spent a short amount of time thinking about it, i looked back into her eyes and nodded.

"i need you billie."

she just smirked at my words, before sitting me up slightly so that she could move from behind me, and settle in between my legs instead.

it didn't take her long to leave the room and grab a towel, folding it slightly and placing it underneath me. she sat on her knees at first, slowly pulling my pyjamas and underwear down so that she had the perfect view of me. once our clothes had been discarded in a messy pile on the floor, she leaned down to lay on her stomach, getting even closer to my core. i let out a needy whine when all she did was lightly blow against my pussy.

she could already see how wet i was. i hadn't told her about how needy id been for the past few days, but i think that as soon as she caught a glance of how wet i was, she immediately realised. she didn't bother to waste any more time, diving straight in. her tongue ran a long stripe up my pussy, before focusing on my clit. she was trying to get me wetter, it wasn't like she needed me to be wetter, she just wanted to tease. i reached my hands down to grab her hair, pulling her impossibly closer to my core in an attempt to get her to move faster.

we both knew that i was already pretty sensitive because of how long i'd needed this, so it wouldn't take her long to get me close, which was why she was trying to drag it out as much as possible. she wanted me to last as long as i could.

her tongue flicked my clit, before licking and slurping, just doing as much as she could to bring me pleasure. after what felt like an eternity, she finally moved to push her tongue inside of me. she worked her tongue against my tight walls as they squeezed against her. my orgasm was approaching fast, and my arousal must have been dripping all over the lower half of her face. at that point, i'd completely forgot that i was on my period, and i think billie had forgotten too. we were both too focused on me finishing.

i was so close, and to add to the pleasure, she pressed her fingers on my clit, quickly rubbing circles against it, making my moans as loud as they could get. i couldn't hold it any longer. no matter how hard i tried, i was too desperate.

"billie! baby, can i cum for you? please?" i moaned out.

"that's ittt." she praised, "cum for me, my love."

as soon as i heard those words, my orgasm hit me. my moans and cries were broken whilst i let the feeling consume me. my back was arching off the bed, and my hands were still tangled in billies hair, gripping onto it tight to ground myself slightly.

as i started to come down from my high, my grip loosened on her hair, and i felt one of her hands gently rubbing my stomach to help me calm down. when i finally flopped against the bed, trying to catch my breath, billie pulled her face away from me, looking into my eyes with a proud smile. all i could see was a mixture of my arousal, and blood dripping down her chin and coating her lips.

my cheeks turned red and i covered my face, embarrassed even though i knew billie was just happy that she'd made me feel good.

i didn't even notice her come closer to my face until i felt her carefully grabbing my wrists to pry my hands away from my face, and i heard her pretty voice.

"don't be embarrassed, angel. can i go clean you up now?"

"please." i nodded and thanked her, allowing myself to be lifted up in her arms, my head resting on my shoulder out of exhaustion.

once we took a long shower, and pampered each other, it was time for us to get back in bed and watch movies for the rest of the day, enjoying each others company just like usual.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #fanfic #fanfiction #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #wlw #billie eilish smut #wlw smut #smut #wlw post #wlw blog

26 notes · View notes

takenbypeter · 3 hours ago

Text

Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 682

A/N: Just a lil pure fluff for Bucky. I’m in my Bucky era again

You stared at your phone. Something was wrong.

Right?

See you soon <3

You read the text again focusing on the heart at the end. This wasn’t him, right? It must’ve been somebody impersonating him.

You sat at the counter of your kitchen in thought with your phone laying screen up while your hands were interlaced pushed against your lips.

You were starting to get worried. Should you call somebody, should you call Sam? No they were together, if someone got to him then someone got to Sam too. Your mind was racing in thought. The only thing that broke its focus was the sound of the front door unlocking.

Your eyes darted to the sound as you grabbed a nearby knife. But the hammering in your heart stopped once you saw Bucky entering your apartment.

You let out a sigh putting the knife down as he threw his duffel bag to the floor before looking at you for the first time.

“Woah, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I just thought something went wrong on the mission for a moment, that's all.”

He frowned, taking his shoes off and stepping closer. “I said I’d see you soon, why would anything be wrong?”

He planted a kiss on your cheek, passing by you to grab a plum from the fruit bowl.

“I don’t know, I guess your message just threw me off.”

He let out a hmm, sort of in agreement. But that was it.

“Well the ending was the part that really threw me off.”

He nodded again as if that was that.

You were going to have to yank the bull harder to get the answer from him.

“So yeah, what was up with that? That’s not like you?”

“What?”

You pick up your phone, “Bucky, come on…” he looked at you as if having no idea what you’re talking about, you had to fill in the answer for him to continue the conversation, “the heart at the end! You’ve never done that before.”

“Oh I just thought it was a nice thing,” he shrugged it off as if it was no big deal.

“It is a nice thing, a really sweet nice thing but it’s just it’s so random, you know?”

Bucky sighed, “yeah I figured, you know I don’t tell you enough how much I care for you, so I figured I’d start doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Telling you I love you.”

Now that. That took you aback.

“Huh? You don’t tell me how much you love me?”

“Yeah…it took me so long to say it and some guys were talking on the mission and it just made me realize that I don’t say it as much as I should.” He finally turned to you fully, “I’m sorry, I’ll say it more often from now on.”

You wave your hands in the air trying to shut down this whole claim of his, “stop just stop. You say it all the time. It might not be verbal but you say it in the little things; when you make dinner, when I fall asleep and you carry me to the bed, when you buy me something because it reminds you of me—that’s all you telling me you love me Buck. Come on now don’t be silly,” you continue, clearly upset that he would even accuse himself like this, “and you do tell me you love me, so whatever those guys said they can buzz off. If anything it’s not you who doesn’t say it enough it’s me who doesn’t say it enough, so Bucky,” you go to where he’s now seated on a stool and you put two hands to his cheek squishing them in the process, “I love you.”

Bucky’s stoic expression breaks in your hands, knowing you’re passionate about his feelings and that you just want him to know how good he is, “I love you too.”

You grin and kiss him chastely. “Now aside from that, the heart was a cute touch. I'm definitely screenshotting this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes while a smile continued to decorate his lips.

#marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic

25 notes · View notes

pupyuj · 2 hours ago

Note

hi ena! long time no ask!!

with the recent miumiu wonyoung photos GOSHH MY MIND IS SPINNINGGF WITH THOUGHTSS😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

dubcon!!

what if…princess jang who comes from a wealthy noble family purchases you to be her pretty slave😁 the thing is you weren’t even being sold as one despite your family leaning towards the poorer class😱turns out she randomly spotted you at a market and ordered her people to do anything and everything just to have you in the palm of her hands! crazy!!!!! one day you were just taken away from your family! GOSH imagine the princess wonyoung herself carrying you to her room and gently laying you down on her bed🥺but, being the brat that you are you scratched and clawed at her, trying to resist her advances bc u were so so scared and confused :(( eventually, the remaining patience she had for you snaps and she just fucks you hard to remind you of your place!!!! u were nothing but her stupid little slut to use whenever she wanted :(

(she starts off really gentle with you but fucks you rough and hard for being so rude and disobedient to he princess☹️)

omg yk that video of her sliding off her gloves to sign for a fan?? IMAGINE IF SHE DOES THAT BEFORE FINGERING YOU UNTIL URE IN TEARS BEGGING HER TO STOPPP UGHH😫😩😩

- 🍒

MY FAVORITE CHERRY ANON!! i know, i know this ask took me forever to do again but we're all probably used to it to it to the point where i don't even have to address it 😭 since the photos are now not-so-recent, i'll attach them here so everybody can visualize it well hehehe 🤭

(@ CHERRY ANON IK YOU'RE WONDERING IF I AM ALSO WORKING ON THAT OTHER WONY ASK THAT YOU SENT AND I'M GONNA BE HONEST I THINK I DELETED IT?? which sucks bcs i was JUST thinking of answering it too just now until i realized it was nowhere to be found so IF UR STILL UP FOR IT AND IF YOU REMEMBER THE GIST, FEEL FREE TO SEND IT AGAIN! pretty sure it was about sororities?? 🤔)

p.s. you guys are crazy if you think i'm not gonna give this ask some meat (aka mini lore) so if this happens to be a long one that's why! 😭😭

[cw: extreme dubcon, (eventually) cnc, coercion, bondage, mild violence, obsessive-possessive princess!wony WOOO.]

you were happy as a commoner, okay!? even though your fate was sealed as a middle-class man's stay-at-home wife and child bearer in the future, you were going to make the most of your life despite it all! but that was before you encountered her highness jang wonyoung while you were out to shop for new formal robes. oh, sorry, you didn't 'encounter' her—she saw you animatedly chatting with the nice young clerk at the apparel shop and became obsessed fell in love at first sight 😍😍

your whole life took a whole other turn when a couple knights knocked on your door and took you from your family by force and with only a brief answer when asked: "her highness wills it so." 🥲 your family was then visited by the princess' retainer to give them a more detailed explanation of the whole situation but you didn't know that. you didn't have to. what only mattered from then on was whatever the fuck wonyoung wanted with you... and it was everything you anticipated it to be! almost.

nobles were all the same, after all. and the worst among them was the royalty. you half expected to have been stripped down in the carriage by the knights and dragged throughout the castle naked and bare before they throw you inside the princess' quarters where she would be more than ready to just... ravage you, but that didn't turn out to be true. not all the way! you made it to the doors of the castle with your clothes still on you and you weren't just haphazardly thrown inside the princess' room... the knights were given special instructions to treat you like glass! or else the princess would have their heads if they so much as scratched your beautiful, delicate skin.

wonyoung herself met you at the doors of the great hall, actually! she couldn’t contain her excitement because finally, she found someone that she knew was going to satisfy all her needs and make the perfect wife! never mind that you were some lowly commoner, you were beyond perfect in the princess’ eyes!

“do you know me… (y/n)?” you don’t even want to know how she just knew your name. you were confused, terrified, and furious all at the same time and wonyoung loved it. anybody else would have been scrambling to kiss her feet and beg for forgiveness even though they knew they did nothing wrong… but of course you’d be different. wonyoung was so happy.

nevertheless, you plucked up whatever courage you had left in yourself and answered her question, “the crown princess… jang wonyoung.” even the way you said her name was impeccable! ah, how wonyoung couldn’t wait to make you hers completely… and that’s exactly what she attempts to do once she took you to her room but of course, you fought back! 🥺

kicking and hitting wonyoung whenever she tried to get close to you on the bed, even shrieking and screaming for help just in case there was a servant who felt sorry enough to interrupt but who in their right mind would dare get in the way of the princess? 🤨 it was when you scratched her chin that she finally had enough of your shit and straight-up whacked you across the face... her highness has never had to use violence to gain control and advantage but goodness you really pushed all the wrong buttons!!

somehow it wasn't the painful sting on your cheek that made you settle down... bcs if you weren't directly staring at the small, bleeding cuts you've made on wonyoung's chin, you would've made an even bigger fuss when she roughly undressed you! sure, you feared the consequences of literally hurting the princess wonyoung but... she was still a beautiful woman!! what you did was like the equivalent of defacing a famed painter's greatest work—you definitely deserve whatever punishment was waiting for you 🫢🫢

wony won’t take your resistance seriously once she’s seen how drenched you are for her! she only takes that as a sign that she was welcome.. and that you did, in fact, want this! 🤭 she assumed that you can take her at whatever pace she decides to go with bcs you were a commoner that was gorgeous and deliciously naïve… surely you’ve been passed around before right?? but no… you were a virgin :(( but you were taking wonyoung’s fingers so well… meeting her thrusts halfway as if you’ve always known how to do it like that… moaning “your highness” so nicely against her ear that it gave her goosebumps… so ofc wony ignores your tears and your pleas to stop when you’ve already cum many times 🫠

but ah you were really testing her!! wony was bound to get some bruises with the way you’ve kicked and hit her so much… so she ties your hands up above your head and your legs spread apart with either ankle tied down at the edge of the bed! this way it would be much, much easier to punish you 🤭 she’s definitely relentless when using her mouth… esp since she just got a taste of her new food and oh, were you delectable…!

wonyoung couldn’t get enough… using her tongue on you over and over again throughout the night whilst talking to you about how perfect your life was going to be now that you were with her… and she very much liked how you didn’t even fight her words anymore! she knew that even though you cried gallons of tears and made your voice hoarse from wailing and moaning you wouldn’t dare look back on your past life anymore! 🤭

since then your daily activities as the crown princess’ future consort was to look pretty, study in both academics and noble etiquette, and most importantly, tending to wonyoung’s… needs 🫠🫠 you knew that every servant, knight, and nobles that frequented the castle talked badly about you. how a peasant managed to captivate the princess’ heart with ease. their words cut through you pretty badly but wonyoung was always there every night to mend your wounds… always.

you didn’t even care that wonyoung fucked you too hard anymore! bcs she has somehow led you to believe that she was the only one in this world that loved you and can stand to love someone like you 🫣 and you only believed her bcs you did feel her love with every thrust of her fingers, every disgusting thing that she whispers in your ears while she fucked you, every flick of her tongue as she ate you out, every bite on your lips when she kisses you. you were only right to love her back in spite of everything else bcs… like wonyoung always assured, this is what true love is, right?? 🤭

25 notes · View notes