#I'm tired of my books being in boxes

[jedi-bird]

It is currently raining and will only get worse as the day goes on, which means my energy and ability to focus on tasks is almost nonexistent. Still managed to get some stuff done at least (set up shelf inserts in the kitchen, added felt sliders to the new chairs, moved the rest of my partner's new office stuff upstairs, moved some more of my stuff out, and got some more things ready to donate). Going to try writing later but not going to force it. Tomorrow should be better since the rain should start tapering off.

[eddis-not-eeddis]

Okay, but how hard is it to just.

Not.

Write a love-triangle.

It cannot possibly be that hard.

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

[moonastroellie]

Ellie being the bully of reader but secretly being like very obssesed and possessive over them. Maybe even in a secret casual relationship but being rlly jealous.

I've decided I will make this into a series, so please enjoy!

"shup up Ellie"

Warnings; transgender!ellie, semi enemies to lovers, Ellie plays rugby and so do you, weed usage, Ellie is a jerk lol, pure angst and fluff.

fynn = brother

Ellie fucking Williams, your brothers best friend- she was probably one of the biggest bullies towards you, even after you graduated high school, she would constantly throw slurs at you or make you feel bad about what you were doing. It never mattered what it was, you could just be making food and Ellie would comment on how you're making the food wrong even if you were doing it right.

"Fynn! Come have a look at this fucking idiot" she called your very stoned brother over who laughed at you after you spilt chocolate powder all over yourself. "Ellie it's not funny"

"It's fucking hilarious dude" Fynn says trying to calm his breathing as he laughs even harder, "funniest shit ever, anyways me and Ellie are going to go play video games, don't interrupt us" you scoff, before moving to grab a cloth to wipe up the floor, looking up from the floor you see Ellie still staring at you.

"Bro what do you want?" you ask her and she shakes her head "you look pathetic by the way, you're clumsy as fuck and you need to stop spilling everything" you wanted to cry, Ellie always bullied you, even if she took it too far she never apologized to you. "okay" you say with a tired tone, so done with her shit.

It was 9pm and your parents weren't home yet, but at least you finished baking your brownies! You sigh before grabbing a few and putting them onto a plate, making your way upstairs quietly and knocking on your brothers door softly to see if he's still awake after almost hot boxing the entire house.

Ellie opens the door and a massive amount of smoke blows into your face, you cough and start moving your hands to get rid of the smoke "bro what do you want?" Ellie says with a frown.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted some brownies I made, nothing personal" you hand her the brownies and she looks at you, maybe the only time you've seen her genuinely thankful for something you gave her.

"thanks bro" she mutters under her breath and you give her a subtle 'you're welcome' before shutting your brothers door and making your way to your room...

You sit cross legged on your bed and open your mac book to finally get some school projects done, before you know it three hours had passed and there's a knock at your door.

"come in?" your voice low, but sweet. it was so intoxicating. it was Ellie, you have a confused look on your face- her eyes red and looks like she had been crying but it was just the weed

"it was uhh." she itches her ear, "it was good, thanks" you study her face, and she's being genuine "if you want more go for it" you sigh, closing your laptop.

"you coming to the game on sunday?" she mutters out, "ellie if you're here to bully me or whatever just don't bother with it, I'm done with your shit"

"i'm trying to be fucking friendly for once" she spits out and it gives you a slight shock "right" you nod, she rolls her eyes and slams your door pretty loudly, making you flinch.

You ended up going to the game on Sunday, which fucking sucked- you and Ellie were on the same team during rugby and your team lost by almost 30 points and you didn't know what to do...

You were sitting in the locket room with Ellie, fiddling with your bracelet begging Ellie won't try to talk to you.

"you did good out there" she mumbles to you "huh?"

"I'm saying you did good, we probably would've had it if Bredon didn't fucking injure his foot half way through the match" you giggle and agree.

"Nice bracelet by the way, where'd you get it?" Ellie moves her attention from your wrist to your eyes, you hum and decide if you should tell her or not "my grandma gifted it to me before she passed away"

"Oh- I didn't know I'm sorry for your lost" she says in a sympathetic tone, to say the very least you were confused about why she was acting nice to you... It was slightly overwhelming, you decide the tension is too think and you can't handle it anymore, you say bye before grabbing your gear and going out the locker room.

"Hey hun, that was amazing!" your mom hugs you tightly, you roll your eyes knowing she was only trying to be nice even though you lost, by A LOT.

Ellie was going insane, she felt crazy for the awkward interaction with you "really Ellie?! Fucking 'nice bracelet'" she groans, pulling out her phone and sitting on her bed defeated- she knew what she was doing was wrong but she couldn't help it, she was obsessed and it was unhealthy, even she knew it.

She unlocks her phone before typing in your name on Instagram and following you, she sighs and flops down onto her bed.

Before she knows it, you accept her request and text her.

She shoots up and looks down at her phone to see your notification that says 'hey, did u mean to follow me?' she groans loudly, feeling awkward and didn't know what to say to you.

Hey yeah I did mean to..

Oh k

I don't wanna seem weird rn but what you doing over the weekend?

nm, y u askin?

Wanna come over to mine?

els if this is a game, just don't

Her heart thumped at you calling her els, she hearts the message and replies back fast.

Its not, I'm being genuine

Come over at 7pm tmmr?

sure cya then

a/n: part 2?

[reverieblondie]

Raphael ravaging Haarlep while the incubus is wearing Tav's form?

You all are going to give me heart palpations with all these Raphael prompts in my box. This...this is one had me feeling A TYPE OF WAY! when I was rereading it, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Mouse

Raphael x Haarlep in Fem!Tav form

Word count: 1,995

Raphael is getting tired of Haarlep's little games; Raphael knows they have been with someone sneaking through his house. It's been days since he felt what he did, but when he demanded to know who, Haarlep wasn't willing to give away their secret…

"Aww, still refusing to play with me…" Haarlep coos in Raphael's ear. 

Raphael rolls his eyes, closing his book. He turns to the incubus, smirking on their knees, tail wagging eagerly. Taking a long breath, Raphael casts his book aside. "From my understanding, you have been getting in lots of playtime."

"Still irritated by that? Raphael, jealousy is not a good look on you." 

"Not jealous; I just don't like when people go through my things. Or when my things won't tell me what they have been doing…" 

Haarlep pouts, "So I'm being punished all because I made her a promise…" Raphael's eyes widen at the slip; Haarlep shrugs, looking away with a smirk. "Oops…" 

Before Haarlep can slide away, Raphael grabs Haarlep's hair and pulls them close. "Looks like you slipped…and if it's who I think it is…you better show me."

Raphael let's go and let's Haarlep get off the large bed. Then with a glimmering flourish, Raphael watches as his form disappears in the bright light to be replaced with…hers, "Mouse…" He can't help but feel completely entranced by the view of Tav's body beautifully bare to him. Sliding off the bed, Raphael takes everything in; that feeling, that sweet shiver of arousal, was from you. Little mouse… running around his house. Was she looking for him or something else? Raphael feels his heart racing at every thought, but then there is an unfamiliarity with the circumstances of what this means. A storm swirls through him: anger at you sneaking into his house, jealousy that Haarlep got to taste his mouse before he could take a bite, and excitement at what he can do for payback that will make you stir. 

Haarlep sees the storm brewing behind Raphael's brown eyes; they feel so satisfied with themselves, watching Raphael crumble from seeing your form.

"What's the matter? Surprised Raph-"  Raphael's hand is covering their mouth before they can finish. 

"I want you to talk like her…What did she say, do?" 

Raphael removes his hand slowly, and Haarlep lifts a brow before clearing their voice and speaking, "Well, this is a change, Raphael…" 

Raphael feels a shiver of heat go down his spine, It's that sweet voice he has been playing in his mind on a loop. It's like you're actually here, with him in his house of hope. All he can think now is how much he wants to ravage your body, to make Tav feel like he does…

Like Haarlep could read his mind, they reach out to him, your soft hands running up his silk robe, tracing his chest. Fingertips touching the hair of his partly exposed chest. "Feels like a man…" Haarlep drops their hands to pull the robe's tie, letting the silk material slip off him. His cock already stiff making Haarlep chuckle, "But I know what lies underneath."

A deep growl can't help but rumble deep within Raphael's chest. A burst of bright flames surrounds him, changing him into his cambion form, now towering over Tav's body. Raphael's large hand cups your face so softly and delicately, making the fantasy feel even more real to him. Leaning down, he whispers in Tav's ear, warm hand caressing their skin, Breathing hot in their ear, "Tell me what happened, every detail…" 

Haarlep grins and wraps their arms around Raphael's neck, "She was blushing so beautifully. Your sweet little mouse, she wanted to know how your kisses felt, sweet really…" 

Raphael slowly moves his hot hands down, tracing your delicate neck, "You cruel thing. You probably laughed at her…" 

Raphael brings his lips to kiss along your jaw, pulling your form closer to press against his erection. Closing his eyes, he focused on Haarlep imitating your breathing; it's perfect… It's like you're really here. 

"Of course I did; the way she pouted was quite pathetic. I, of course, kissed her with all kinds of passion; little mouse's toes were curling from that alone." 

Raphael grabs Haarleeps face and presses his hot lips to Tavs glossy soft ones, Haarlep plays the part perfectly imitating how timidly you had started in the kiss till finally Rapheal is pushing his eager tongue through the seam of your lips letting himself guide and get drunk on the feeling of your tongue against his. Breaking from the kiss, Raphael looks down at your smirking form. Raphael starts roaming his hands over your curves, his lips kissing and sucking against your skin as he slowly descends, listening to Haarleps hums. 

“You really like her…don’t you…” Raphael pauses, his lips pressed to your hip bone. He darts his hot tongue to taste the sweat on your skin before speaking, "Shut up…" 

Haarlep caresses Raphael's cheek, "look at you… You're practically on your knees for her…a mortal…" 

Raphael lets out a growl before tossing your body to his bed. Haarlep giggles as they bounce against the bed, eating up the rise they are getting from Raphael. Sitting up on their elbows, they watch as Rapheal crawls to your body, glowing eyes looking like those of a predator. Before Haarlep can say another taunting word, Raphael grabs your ankle, flipping Haarlep around to their stomach. Haarlep adjusts to their knees as Rapheal enjoys the view of your ass in the air and your cunt so slick. Raphael groans to himself, mouth watering at the sight. "I intend to devour her…"

"Oh, I bet…" 

Raphael lets out a small chuckle before leaning into your puffy cunt, placing a chaste kiss on your clit, letting his tongue slip to your dripping entrance gathering your want on his burning tongue. He relishes in the taste for a moment before pulling back and swatting your ass, making Haarlep jump. 

"Can she feel me…" 

Haarlep arches their back more slightly, swaying their ass, "I'm sure she is trembling as we speak…" 

Raphael smirks, amused, as he slowly strokes his cock, groaning at the thought of you currently at your camp, hiding away in your tent, touching yourself. Leaning over your form, his hot cock nudging between your slick folds as his velvet voice whispers in your ear. "Show me how she sounded…" 

Haarlep mickes your soft moans, “M-more…Please…I want to feel it AH~” 

Raphael moves his cock faster between your folds, getting coated in the beautiful cyprine weeping down from your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your clit with every mind-numbing nudge, his precum sticking to your cute little clit mixing in with your arousal. Raphael takes his thumb and gathers the sweet release before he pulls Haarlep up by your hair and slathers it to their lips, feeling Haarleps eager tongue licking and sucking on Raphael's thumb, moaning for more, and they rub your ass further on their master's groin. 

Raphael pushes Haarlep back down; they mimic your panting breaths and your soft moans while they shove two fingers into your pretty little slit. Raphael swats away their hands before slipping his cock in you in one swift motion. It's so fucking wet and snug, his mouth waters at the thought of you right now…so full of him and so frustrated…are you rubbing your cunt on your pillow? Fingering yourself with two fingers trying so hard to reach those deep spots…Poor mouse, he would help you; you're his favorite, after all. 

Rapheals rolls his hips as he digs his nails into your waist, pulling to his tip and then slamming you back down, relishing in how Haarlep gasps for air every time. Their cunt squeezing him with every thrust. "R-Raphael, ah~ I'm so so full!"  

Raphael smirks as he leans down, keeping his pace, "Mmm, My mouse said that?" he questions Haarlep as he places kisses down your spine, his hands moving to your breast to pinch your nipples and tug roughly to get Haarlep to answer. 

Haarlep chuckles and bites their lip, "Well, substitute the name, but yes…I fucked her tight cunt stretching it to your cock, S-she st-studders, and ah~ Ah~ cries when F-fucked!" Rapheals rhythm speeds up, and his grip tightens. Your noises, your voice, he wants it for himself; he wants to witness your flushed face, your bouncing breast as he reclaims you for his own. Haarlep had you; now it's his turn; he will make the incubus watch from the side, then make them lick up your messy cunt when he spills his seed in you. 

The thought of your puff cunt dribbling out his thick seed is all he can think of as he keeps slamming his cock into your gummy walls. He wants to go deeper, abuse your cunt till your womb is opened for him so he can fill you up, "Gonna fill you up…fuck my spawn into your tight cunt…keep you full forever." Your pussy has his cock in a vise grip as his cock throbs his rutting driving deeper into you. Though he is pounding your pussy,  his hands turn to more caressing. His hands roam over your perfect form, your skin like silk, your sweet smell he wants to always have lingering on him, then your voice, crying out his name and moaning so cutely, it's better then any composition he's heard before.

Raphael feels his cock nudging against your would-be cervix; he brings his hand around to your stomach, where he feels his cock. Pressing on it, he groans from the feeling and your fucking mewing. That's when Haarlep starts to feel Rapheals veins pulsing on his cock, the sensation warming your velvet walls and threatening the release of their arousal to flood against his cock, though Haarlep knows better than to cum before Rapheal wants it…

As Rapheal's pace gets sloppy, so does his breathing, and so does his mind…

“My Mouse…you feel like perfection…” He licks against your neck, littering it with kisses and nips as his fingers come to rub against Haarlep's swollen clit, so sticky from your fluids flooding over them. 

"Rapheal, M-My devil…Ah, please..ah, please!" 

Raphael growls at the sounds of your begging, fuck, he wants to hear it endlessly, your sweet submission as he finally ravishes you fully. "Cum for me…let it wash over you…let me feel it…"

With a loud cry, your fucking your hips back onto him as you feel the overwhelming heat rushing through your veins of your orgasm.  Raphael cums right after you, his cock throbbing as it pushes out his thick cum deep into you. He groans and steadily tries to catch his Breath as his length stays buried within you. Whisper praises are sung into your skin before he slowly pulls out of you, his hand rubbing your stomach tenderly as he does. 

Raphael wraps his arms around your small form and brings you to his chest, his nose buried in your hair as the smell of the sex slowly starts to dissipate from the boudoir. In this moment of peace, he begins to feel your body shake, followed by a familiar laugh. It's still your body but no longer your voice from the vessel. Haarlep smirks, looking up at the devil, "So tender for the little mouse… I'm sure she would be very receptive to your…cuddling." They can hardly get through the sentence before bursting with laughter. 

Raphael goes to say something as he pushes Haarlep away when he senses something…a visitor? Haarlep goes to continue their teasing when Raphael slams his massive hand over their face shhing them. 

Everything is quiet for a moment before the sound of loud crashing and slamming doors comes from the halls. "Where are they!" your voice yells through the house. Haarleps' eyes widen in delight as Raphael watches the door in anticipation…his tail slightly swaying in excitement…. It looks like they made you hot and bothered, perfect.

[wordsarelife]

—call it what you want

pairing: theo nott x fem!potter!reader

summary: in a school filled with people that have a watchful eye on them like they're celebrities, theo and y/n try to keep their relationship private

notes: this just came to me and i thought it would be cute! also theo calls reader belle as a nickname sometimes

-> let me know if you want to know more about their relationship, i think they're my favs now

"can you turn the page, please?" you were laying cheek down on the table in the library, your boyfriend next to you

he sighed before he did turn the page. "we could just stop studying if you're tired" theo suggested

"absolutely not!" you protested sitting up straight suddenly and nearly loosing your balance, theo catching you before you could fall off the chair.

"why are you so determined to study till you're sleeping?" theo asked, while he pushed you back into a comfortable position "i don't even think this is healthy"

"i just know what all of them think" you narrowed your eyes at two whispering two years across from you

"okay" theo said confused, following your line of sight "and what would that be?"

"oh look at y/n potter" you changed your voice to sound more like one of the whispering people in the school "she's doing worse in class than her brother since she got a boyfriend. proves that you can't be smart and pretty"

theo broke into laughter at that and was immediately shushed by madam pince. he quickly apologized before he shook his head at you. "no one is thinking that"

"really?" you asked sarcastically "because i just heard someone say exactly that on the way here"

theo sighed "so what's the plan, baby? you're gonna break up with me?"

you shook your head and rolled your eyes "obviously not"

"okay, then what?" before you could answer, the girls across from you started giggling and theo send them an irritated look, which seemed to be enough for them to leave you alone. they quickly gathered their books and left the library, but not without sending another look in your direction

you ignored what had just happened and buried your face back into the potions book. theo gently pushed the fallen down hair out of your face. "i just have to study until i'm sure that i'll be better than harry. i don't want to be the one whose grades suffer only because she had sex"

theo tried no to laugh, because he noticed that you were actually concerned about that. "i know that you're incredibly smart, belle" theo mused "you will be amazing without studying the entire night, and even if harry is a little better than you, it's just one class, isn't it?"

"i suppose"

"good" theo closed the book and slid it under his arm, standing up and holding his hand out for you to take "let's get you back to your common room"

you sighed, but nodded and took your boyfriends hand, who walked you directly to the gryffindor common room. "don't think about what they're saying anymore, okay?" theo said softly "only you and me know the truth and no one else has to know it"

"i know" you smiled "it just feels so weird that all they seem to do is talk about us"

"we knew that they would, sweetheart" theo reminded you "you're the chosen ones sister and i'm like your very own forbidden fruit"

"no, no, no" you giggled "you will not get away with calling yourself my forbidden fruit" you laughed again and theo smiled, happy that his plan to make you laugh succeeded

"fine" he nodded. he held the book out for you to take "that reminds me.." his hand wandered to his pocket, taking out a small box

"theo...." you said slowly

he detected what you thought immediately "i'm not going to propose" he deadpanned, before he held the box in your direction, taking the book once again so you could look into it.

"theo" you said, but happy this time. in the box was a beautiful gold necklace with the letter 't'

"i don't mean it in a possessive way" he explained "it's just.. eh i don't know.. i'm always next to you, okay? i'm always on your team" he paused, not being able to interpret your expression "you know what? it's stupid, you don't have to keep it" he outstretched his hand, ready to grab the box, but you pulled it away before he could reach it.

"are you daft?" you asked and theo gulped "i love it" his smile returned as quickly as it had vanished a few seconds before. "can you help me put it on?"

you turned around and theo quickly closed the chain around your neck, plastering a featherlight kiss on it, before he took your hair that you had been holding and gently pulled it down. you turned around to him and smiled "thank you" you kissed him and theo felt like his heart could burst.

"of course, belle" he smiled and waved you off, when you entered your common room. then he turned around and walked back to his own.

[thecapricunt1616]

capriiiiiii can i pretty please request something with carmy and a gf who is dealing with being stiff / sore and tired. i acc just need him to take care of me. maybe cook me a meal. :(( ily

My loveeeee Hello I'm sorry this has been rotting away I've been dealing with such writers block I hope this doesn't suck aaa! I'm sorry I haven't been writing as much / around tumblr this week i've been busy with other things but I hope to write more soon <3 I finally got my new laptop so i'm going to try and cook some stuff up really soon! Warnings for btc: None really, pure fluff & happy carmy!not edited sorryyyy WC: 1638

You had helped Sugar set up her nursery last night. All the moving of large boxes, and helping build the crib, changing table, and dresser, you were wiped out to say the least. You got home around 4 am, and  When Carmy had left for the restaurant that morning, you were still crumpled on the couch where he’d left you, snuggled in a blanket and softly snoring. When he came home that night and nudged you, you jumped like a sleeping cat 

“I’m awake!” You said quickly with an unintentional snore, rubbing your eyes tiredly. 

“Brought you a sandwich and some fries. Back still hurts?” He asked softly. 

You whimper gently as you stretch out your sore muscles, sitting up once again in the dark living room. “How’s work?” You mumbled with a yawn, taking the takeout container as he plopped next to you and planted a kiss on your head. 

“Doesn’t matter, m’here for you baby, why don’t I get you a bath set up mm?” He flicks on a lamp and you blink a few times as your eyes get adjusted to the light.  

“You’re too good to me, you know that right?” You gave him a peck on the lips. He smiled a bit and rubbed your side 

“I can’t even count the amount of back massages you’ve given me after a long week. I’m just repaying the favor.” He watched as you took a bite and sighed in relief, your stomach growling- likely in thanks as you hadn’t moved from your spot all day long in your blanket nest. 

“This is really good, Bear” you mumble as you chew. He hums happily at your approval, giving you one more kiss to the temple before getting up. 

“Good, I put a piece of princess cake in the fridge for you for after your bath if you want” he said on his way to the bathroom, and you could cry at the bliss that was being taken care of. 

He makes sure to clean out the tub with bathroom spray and rinse it fully, before starting the water at the very hot temperature he knew you liked after plugging the tub. He got one of the little herb sachets with different flowers and herbs and hung it over the faucet so it infused into the water, causing it to be a pretty light pink color.

From the bathroom closet he grabbed your little bath tray and set it up for you, as well as the little bath head pillow that suctioned to the tub for you to rest back on, and got those set up before taking out the waterproof electric candles and setting a few out for you for a comforting ambiance. After he put a good amount of the muscle relaxing herbal epsom salts in the bath for you, as well as plenty of bubbles the way you liked and agitated the water for you, he popped your favorite fluffy towel in the warmer. 

He cut off the water and went into the bedroom, grabbing your fluffy bathrobe and a comfortable pair of panties for you as well as the book you were currently reading from your nightstand and got them all set up on the bathroom counter for you, as well as your hair brush. He opened the bottom drawer where you kept all your sheet face masks, and picked out a bedtime one and set it on the bath tray for you next to your book. 

By the time he came back out to let you know your bath was ready you had already finished eating and were once again slumped on the couch, you figured you had pulled or overworked something in your back because even holding yourself up was proving to be exhausting very fast. “Did you want some wine my love” he crouched down next to where you were snuggled on the couch, brushing your hair from your eyes gently. 

“Yes please” you said softly. He planted a gentle, lingering kiss on your forehead before going to the kitchen. He got your favorite wine out of the fridge, popping open the bottle and pouring you a glass. He brought it to the bathroom and put it in the little slot on the tray made for wine glasses, before coming back to collect you. 

“Alright, up” he held his hand out to you and wiggled his fingers for you to take it. You sighed softly knowing moving meant pain, but when you grabbed his hand he lifted you to your feet with little effort, being sure to steady you with his other hand on your hip since you weren’t expecting it. 

“Woah” you giggled, the action having woken you from your tired state and following him to the bathroom. When you saw the state of it, you pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his neck gently. You didn’t want him to see the fact there was tears pooling at your eyes, since he hated when you cried. But the fact that he had a nearly 14 hour day, and came home to you- and still went out of his way, above and beyond to take care of you. To make you feel loved, cared for. You’d never had another partner who was so attentive and went out of their way for you how he did.

“Love you…” you muttered before pulling away with a sniffle. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a gentle kiss 

“Your towel is In the warmer waiting for you baby, I’ll get your pajamas set out for you” he gently tucked your hair behind your ear and rubbed his knuckle over your cheekbone before heading back to your bedroom, leaving the door cracked behind him. You noticed after he left that your skincare was all set up for you as well as your favorite body lotion and its matching body mist which just made you smile even more. 

After undressing you sit in the warm bath, sighing in relief as the hot water did wonders for your sore muscles, resting your head back on the comfortable pillow as you sip your wine and hum contently to yourself. For a while you just sat, reading your book and sipping your wine and after about 30 minutes when the water had gone lukewarm, and your glass of wine had been finished - you decided to drain the tub. 

Carmy heard you getting out of the bath, so he went and got your pajamas that he’d been warming in the dryer for you and got your side of the bed all made up after filling your reusable water bottle with iced lemon water.  By the time you had gotten your lotion on and did your skincare as well as brushed your teeth, the house had already been shut down for the evening. He had made sure to clean up the kitchen and living room, as well as shut all of the shades and get your coffee pot set up for the next morning like usual. 

“Hey pretty girl” he takes your hand, kissing it gently “got some warm pajamas for you, house is taken care of you just have to get in bed” he motioned to the bed where your pajamas were nicely folded for you. 

“And you say you aren’t romantic” you mused, causing him to chuckle a bit as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head 

“What can I say, I guess you bring it out of me. Get your pajamas on I’ll rub your feet for you” he said and you hum happily, closing your eyes and planting a kiss on his neck

“Can I be babied like this all the time?” You joked, he huffed a laugh, handing you your pajamas. 

“The days that I’m not too wiped out from work, I can try” he plopped down on his side of the bed with a soft grunt of relief after being on his feet all day. You slipped out of your robe, and his eyes rake over your frame as you unfolded your soft, fluffy nightgown and slipped it over your head. “Mm mm mm” he said jokingly. You giggled as you crawl on the bed, resting your legs over his lap and wiggling your manicured toes teasingly. 

“Get to massaging this isn’t a free peep show” you said and he took your ankle, bringing it to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss

“What- so you can put me to work, and I can’t even eye the goods?” he joked as he put your leg gently back in his lap and grabbing the massage oil that he’d put on the nightstand and warming some in his hands before starting to massage your foot. You hum happily, lips curling into a small smile and your eyes fluttering shut in bliss. 

“Mmmm, keep doin’ that and I’ll let you see whateeever you want” you said happily, your voice nearly a purr from how expertly he was massaging your calves and feet. “Can I turn on Big Brother?” you asked and giggle at the way his face lit up

“You really waited?! Fuck yeah I wanna see whats up put it on” he said and you smiled, shaking your head jokingly as you turned on the TV. He had whined before about not wanting to watch ‘trash reality tv’ all the time, but over the course of the many nights he came home and you were watching it - he had eventually starting asking you to wait for him to watch ‘your show’ together, and you would tease him and tell him how you thought he said it was boring and gossipy, just to get his cheeks to go that cute shade of pink.“Of course I waited, it’s our show now”

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[jedi-bird]

Currently about a quarter of the way through packing up what I need to move for the mitigation team to get started. Partner is now off work and is going to help me, which will make things go quicker. I've decided that since the mitigation team was going to have to move the furniture out of the house anyway, and since they also said they could pack things up, they get to deal with the books. I'm just moving my Star Wars figures and collectibles, the board games, the random things I still need to sort through, and the special books. Going to try to finish tonight but probably won't.

[buckyalpine]

The wait way universe. The one where they get married.

Ohh god it is perfect.

Please say you will write more of this?

I am begging you.

Need more of the baby.

And all the group together having fun family nights.

Another baby maybe? ;)

Aunts and uncles fighting to hold the baby.

Bucky and the reader being told the baby moved the hammer and thor really presenting him with a mini hammer?

Also I love love love love love uncle Tony’s nickname for the baby. Mini terminator love it.

Happy squealing baby is so cute.

I just love it. So much.

I will beg for more. I will. I love it. I love your writing. I love how you write the characters.

Oh god I would kill to see protective avengers. Maybe someone takes the reader and the baby, oh and even more so the reader is pregnant. :0 dun dun dun…. Protective angry Bucky, Steve, Tony,Sam ,Nat, Wanda, Bruce etc

OKAY YES. I'm here for PROTECTIVE AVENGERS OVER ALL THE BABY BUCKIES AND HIS ANGEL. You can read this piece as a stand alone. I added the links for other parts if you want to read it but you don't have to. We're all here for what happens when you mess with Bucky's family.

Wait, what?

Wait, what? 2

I do (again) Wait, what? 3

Wait, what? More Babies?

Competitive God Fathers

-

You smiled to yourself, carefully adding the last piece of tape to Bucky's gift, tying a perfect bow around the wrapped box before hiding it in the closet. Bucky was due to come back soon and while you missed him like crazy, his absence made it easier for you to get his surprise together. Over the last few weeks, you'd felt more tired than usual along with feeling tender and crampy. One trip to the pharmacy, a pregnancy test and a positive result later, you'd bought a custom onesie with Baby Barnes Jr #4 printed on the front.

You hoped Bucky would enjoy the surprise you were growing in your belly, especially considering how often he kept insisting he wanted just one more, adding to your growing family with Steve Jr who had just turned 5 and your 3 year old twins Samantha and Nathaniel. You hid the present under the bed before going to the playroom to tuck your littles ones into bed, the three of them unusually quiet compared to their usual mischief.

"C'mon munchkins" You smiled at the sight before you with Stevie sprawled on a large bean bag, his brother and sister on tucked on either side, their big brother reading to them while they intently looked at the pictures. "Bed time for you babies"

"Will daddy be home soon?" Samantha asked with a pout, a complete daddy's girl just like you, tucking her face into your neck as you scooped her up along with Nathaniel while Steve followed promptly behind.

"Of course bub, he'll be here first thing in the morning" You assured her, kissing her forehead before tucking her into bed followed by the other little one. "Good night loves" You turned off the lights before going back to your room where you knew Stevie was waiting with his favorite book, ready for a bedtime story. It was a special bonding time you always made sure to have with him, not wanting you first baby boy to feel like he was no longer one of your favorites after the twins were born.

"What did you pick tonight baby" You got under the covers, fluffing the pillows and propping them up while Stevie snuggled up beside you, plopping a book about science onto your lap. You chuckled at the nerdy side he'd gotten from his dad, reading through scientific discoveries that were made in the last century and theories that were still being tested. He listened with wide eyes until they grew heavy, eventually falling asleep on your lap, not having the slightest clue you'd carried him to bed and tucked him in with a kiss to his cheek. "Sleep tight my sweet boy"

You slipped back under the covers, grabbing a book for yourself while occasionally running your hands over your belly, soaking in the quiet night before the team arrived after their latest mission.

It wasn't often that the compound was empty; few missions required all hands on deck but this was one of them. You'd received a message from FRIDAY informing you the jet would be landing in a few hours and that no medical assistance would be required because no one had sustained major injures. It was the sole reason you were able to relax so easily, happy waiting for your husbands arrival so you could tell him the good news.

You settled comfortably under the covers until a faint sound from the common room pulled you from your book again. FRIDAY would have alerted you if the jet was approaching and you would've definitely heard the sound of the engine approaching anyway.

But was still eerily quiet.

Then you heard something again.

You were sure it was nothing but you pressed the button under the bedside table that locked and secured the rooms of the little ones just to be safe. Tony had added additional security for their rooms in case of emergencies, with 4 different operating systems working at once. Absolutely nothing would happen to his godchildren under his roof.

It was probably nothing.

Still.

You grabbed the knife you kept hidden behind the headboard, tucking in under the waistband of you sleep shorts before making your way down, reprimanding yourself for being paranoid over what was probably just sounds of the plumbing and vents creaking in the middle of the night.

The halls were clear, easing some of your nerves as you continued to the common room where you heard the sound. The hairs on your neck stood up when you saw the glow of the kitchen light turned on, grabbing your knife, only to find one of the new agents sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on a coffee.

"Annabeth?" Your brows were knitted together, discreetly slipping the knife away, wondering how she'd gotten into the main floor of the compound when it was restricted to others after a certain time.

"Hey y/n" She gave you a sleepy smile while you watched her warily, "Couldn't sleep. Hope you don't mind, just wanted to grab a mug before heading back to trainee wing"

"Yeah, its fine" You spoke slowly, something still not sitting right with you though you didn't show it.

"How come you're still up, waiting for Sergeant Barnes?" There was something sinister in the sweetness of her voice, cocking her head while you hummed in response, stomach churning. "You're both so cute together you know. It's nice to see how his life has come together after all he's been through as the asset"

"Excuse me?" Your eyes grew wide, heart hammering against your chest, it was rare for anyone to refer to Bucky as the asset. Most referred to him as the winter soldier, even soldat, only those deep in Hdyra had called him-

"We want our asset back" She whispered, cracking a smirk and nodding to someone behind you. Before you could turn around, a large form grasped your body, slamming a hand over your mouth muffling your screams. You didn't have any time to react, feeling a pinch to your neck and slipping into darkness immediately after.

-

Bucky stretched with a sleepy yawn as the jet began its descent, already waiting at the doors and ready to hop out and see his wife and babies. He smiled at the thought of them all safely tucked into bed, sleeping soundly while you probably tried to stay up with a book. He always found you dozed off, book loosely falling from your hand, still propped up against the bed every time you waited for him. Didn't matter not how many times he told you to just go to bed. You always stayed up till you saw he was safe and sound.

Sam helped Bucky put away his equipment so he could get to you faster, everyone smiling watching the soldier dash off, running to his family.

"It's nice to see him like this" Nat nodded, trudging with the rest as they entered the compound, nothing amiss while they went to the conference room.

"He deserves it" Steve smiled, happy his best friend finally had what he'd always dreamt of. A wife. Kids. A safe home for them.

Bucky made his way over to see his little ones first, stopping in front of the heavily decorated door, covered with Captain America and Iron Man posters, courtesy of the two Godfathers competing for #1. Bucky smiled, turning the knob, only to find it locked shut, which was odd considering the only way to lock the door was if the security system had been activated.

He shook his head, frowning as he made his way to your shared bedroom instead, figuring it was a glitch or mistake. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach seeing the door open ajar, with the lamp turned on, your book set aside but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Baby?" Bucky called out, struggling to keep his panic at bay when the bathroom was empty, as was the closet. "Sweetheart?"

He called down the hall way a little louder before jogging to the kitchen but there had been no sign of you there when he'd entered. He started to move quicker, running back to disable to security system, breathing a sigh of relief to find all three little ones still sleeping soundly. He softly shut the door before immediately going to the conference room.

"Y/n, has anyone seen her?" He hoped to see you sitting with the others but he was filled with dread when the others shook their head in confusion. "She's-she's not in her room. I've checked everywhere, the security system was activated for the kids' room, she wouldn't leave the compound around this hour, somethings wrong"

No one asked questions, immediately jumping into action; Tony starts to comb through security from the time they left while Nat double checks every floor and room, just to be safe. Steve and Sam help Bucky look over your bedroom for any signs of a struggle. He ran his hand along the areas they'd hidden weapons, his stomach dropping when he felt the empty space behind the headboard.

"She took the knife" Bucky swallowed thickly while Sam and Steve shared concerned glances.

"Look, she's strong Buck, whatever it is, we'll find her" Steve insisted while Bucky continued to look, checking under the bed where he'd kept a pistol, nothing out of the ordinary except-

He frowned, seeing a little gift bag hidden underneath, newly packed with a gold bow placed on top. He picked it up, brows knitted together as he pulled away the tissue paper, feeling soft material tucked at the bottom of the bag. He took it out, heart splitting into two at the words written on the little onesie,

"Fuck!" A broken sob pulled Sam and Steve from their search, finding Bucky slumped by the edge of the bed.

"Buck?" they shared concerned glances seeing him holding something small in his hands, clutching it tightly to his chest.

"She's-she's pregnant" Bucky whispered, tears welling in his eyes holding the tiny jumpsuit in his hands, his heart couldn't take it-

"Barnes, we have something!" Tony's voice echoed through the coms, the three men running back to the conference room where Tony had pulled the footage from you in the kitchen. Bucky watched in silence, jaw clenched seeing the new agent use a stolen keycard to sneak into the compound with a Hydra agent, the two of them quietly waiting for you to come down.

He had to keep from smashing the TV, watching the man grab you from behind, injecting you with something before carelessly carrying you off like ragdoll, his heart aching, wishing he'd gotten home sooner. All voices around him drowned out to a faint buzz, the sounds of Tony and Steve giving out commands all muffled as if they were underwater.

"We have the coordinates locked, everyone down down to the jet, remember your positions.

It was like a switch was flipped.

"Cap and I clear the entry ways, Nat, Clint, follow behind, Sam, surveillance from the top. Barnes, you just have to get y/n"

The former young husband and father who sat with tears streaming down his cheeks was replaced with a man who knew no remorse. No guilt. No sense of right or wrong.

"Barnes"

Steve knew of this man well.

"Barnes?"

The one they called the Winter Soldier.

-

"Baby" Bucky whispered, scooping his sleepy eldest son in his arms before striding over to the twins bed, tucking them in together. "Daddy's gotta go another mission but we'll be back soon, alright?"

Steve could sense something was wrong, the strain in his fathers voice making him worry.

"Again?" He asked while Samantha and Nathaniel stirred slightly, trying to tuck themselves into their daddy's warmth. "Where's mama?" He asked with a tiny whisper having heard the commotion outside of the room, his hearing enhancing more and more each day. Bucky swallowed thickly while Steve stepped into the room to check on his best friend, his heart breaking over the three little ones clinging onto him.

"We're going to get her, promise bub" Buck kissed their heads, grabbing their favorite stuffies to cuddle with.

"Let me see my favorite little soldiers" Steve strode over, giving them a brave smile. "We'll be back before you know it"

"Will mama be okay?" Nathanial whispered, grabbing onto Steve's wrist before he could leave, tears streaming down his little chubby cheek.

"Of course" Steve reassured him, kissing his forehead and tucking him back into bed, "We'll never let anything happen to your mama"

That was a promise.

-

"Oh fuck" Clint snorted to himself watching the black mask that had been locked away for good slip over Bucky's face, his usual leather jacket replaced with a thick black tactical vest, straps running across his chest.

"They're fucked, aren't they" Sam whispered to Tony as he put his suit on, the glancing over to the stone cold brunette who sat in silence, finger resting on the trigger. Like he doesn't actually need us"

"We're really just going for moral support, also no one hurts our y/n" Tony whispered back. The teams full focus was getting you back along with keeping your babies safe; Pepper had come to look after the littles ones till you were found safe and sound. While the team was fully ready to take apart anyone that tried to hurt you. It was more that evident Bucky wouldn't have a problem taking hydra apart by himself but they wouldn't let him go alone.

Bucky didn't speak a word as soon as the jet hit the ground hitting his targets from 100's of feet away, each bullet landing right between their eyes.

"...Did you know he could do that?" Sam called from the coms, watching agents drop while he flew across the top of the base. Tony blasted the front of the doors while Steve cleared the hall way, throwing his shield, knocking down three men that guarded the wing.

"Looks like she's down in the cells" Sam called, looking at where the heat signals were coming from. Bucky made his way down the sterile hallway, red lights suddenly flashing above when a woman charged towards him.

"Welcome back soldat" Annabeth sauntered, blocking the doors to where you were being held with a satisfied smirk on her face. "We knew you'd come back. We missed you-

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with this" Nat smirked, stepping in front of Bucky and grabbing Annabeth by her hair, dragging her off to a corner before throwing a punch to her jaw.

Bucky continued, slamming the lab doors open, his eyes landing onto your tied up form, strapped onto the very same chair he'd been tied to every time he'd been wiped. He didn't give anyone a second to think, killing those closest to him while the others tried to escape.

"You wanted me back, didn't you" Bucky's voice was a low growl as he stepped over the bodies he shot down before running to save you. "Well, I'm back"

The ones that ran off didn't get too far, making it out of the lab, only to be met with a very angry Steve and Tony.

"You don't hurt my fucking bestfriend" Steve gritted, slamming the agent to the floor before grabbing another and throwing him to Tony.

"You are not taking away my turn at being a God father" Sam grabbed another that tried to hide behind the rubble, swooped up to the ceiling, dangling to agent in the air for a while before letting him drop. Bucky was by your side in an instant, cutting off the straps that bound your arms together.

"Baby?" Bucky scooped you up in his arms, cradling your body to his chest, his hand gently brushing your cheek. "You okay sweetheart?"

"Bucky!" You cried out, clinging onto him, trembling while he kissed you before protectively covering your face from the bloody trail he left behind him. "You're here"

"M'taking you home baby, c'mon" Bucky whispered against your hair, carrying you tucked against him with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, breathing in his scent. "I got you babygirl, it's okay"

"I was so scared" Bucky held onto you tightly on the ride back, he had never felt relief like this, his heart finally calming down. "M'so sorry sweet girl"

"S'not your fault baby" you whispered back, smiling when you felt a kiss to the back of your head.

"Glad you're okay sweetheart" Steve gave you a squeeze before leaving you and Bucky to have your privacy again, staying near the front with the rest of the team, watching over Annabeth, who had been captured for questioning. Once you'd reached the compound, you were greeted with proper hugs and kisses from the others, hearing the pitter patter of little feel seconds later.

"MAMAA" Your babies ran to you, climbing up your leg until they were all properly snuggled against you, refusing to let go until they were sure you were perfectly safe.

"Daddy and your aunts and uncles rescued me, see? I'm all okay" You reassured them while they looked at you intently, checking over you the same way you did whenever they had a fall. Once they were satisfied that you were okay, they let their daddy take you away to get cleaned up while it was Tony's turn to read them a bedtime story even if it was nearing morning.

-

"Right where you belong" Bucky smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist after you'd both showered, foregoing clothes as you climbed into bed, snuggled over the covers. He spooned you from behind, the feel of his warm bare skin comforting you.

"I love you so much angel" He pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder, eyes brightening when he remembered the little present he'd found earlier. His hand slipped down to softly brush over your tummy. "Both of you" He playfully whispered, smiling at your soft gasp as you wiggled to turn around and face him, growing bashfully shy when he pulled the tiny jumpsuit he'd kept on his pillow.

"Was there something you wanted to tell me mama?"

"Think you're ready for a 4th?" You giggled, burying your face into his chest while he grinned, peppering your face with kisses till you squealed.

"M'ready for a 5th and 6th if you'd let me angel" Bucky smirked, playfully nipping your jaw before shuffling down to rest his head on your tummy, kissing your soft skin while you carded your fingers through his hair. "but I can't wait to meet this little one first"

-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: first draft of my final assignment is done, just need to do a few other things for class and I'm pretty much done.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

As night falls, you feel woozy. You don’t know how much longer you can hold out. The boxed macaroni and cheese only made your stomach hurt and you’re pretty much out of water. Tomorrow you might just have to venture outside and hope he’s not around. Somehow, you don’t think he’s ever gone. He seems to always be watching. 

You can’t focus on your book. The edges of your vision are hazy and your head is pounding. You close it and look for something to watch. You just as quickly forget what you’re doing and shut off the television. You’re too weak to make it to the bed. You're tired, you just want to sleep. 

You look at the window before you lay down, then glance down. The light isn’t there yet. Its absence unsettles you. You wouldn’t exactly prefer it was but it not being there makes you wonder if something else is coming. 

You’re too exhausted to worry about it. You close your eyes as you lay flat on the couch. You exhale and let your body relax. The tension is as tiring as anything else. You’re always wound up tight, always waiting, always watching. You just don’t have anything left in you. 

That familiar drifting sensation takes over you. Your eyelids itch and your muscles grow heavy. You slip into your unconscious little by little until your shrouded in a deep unbreakable darkness. You’re not scared or frustrated or happy or sad. You’re just tired. 

The shatter of glasses splices through your momentary escape. You groan as you eyes snap open and you lay in the dimness of your apartment. What happened? The light was on when you passed out. What was that noise? 

You push yourself up to your elbows and look at the window. There’s not green light but something worse. The window is broken. The jagged glass shines with moonlight as shards litter the floor. You sit up all the way and scramble around, unable to make sense through the darkness and your own sluggish perception. 

You reach for the lamp and try to turn it on. On, off, on, off. You shake your head, trying to free yourself from the clouds, and stagger to your feet. You go to the wall and flip the switch for the overhead light. Nothing. The power must be out. You can’t even hear the hum of the fridge. 

A tickle crawls into your throat and you cough. You smell smoke. You go to your desk and feel around for your phone. You wait for it to turn on as the dryness in your nose and throat build. You finally get the flashlight glowing on your cell and shine it around the room. 

The haze isn’t in your mind. The apartment is filling with smoke. You pull your shirt up over your nose and cough again. Your eyes burn as you try to see through the fog. There’s a dark shape on the carpet spewing fumes. What the heck? 

Adrenaline kicks in and instinct has you feet moving before you can think. You can’t breath. The smoke gets thicker as your eyes stream and you rack with coughs. You hit the door with your body, clawing at the lock, fingers aching as you twist back the latch. You waver as you step back, pulling the door inward and stumble into the hall. 

Your feet hit the floor clumsily, flat and thumping, thunderous in the hue of night. You hack again, hand on your chest, and tumble to your knees. You grip your head as the strength drains from your body, seeping away little by little. Are you dying? Is this it? 

You fall onto your side and suck in deep breaths. Your head lolls and your arm falls slack beside you. Your eyes roll up and a black silhouette appears above you. A tongue clicks and a whistle blows out. 

“I didn’t want it to be like this, baby cakes,” the timbre skews in your ears as your lashes close, “don’t worry...” the world shifts beneath you, “daddy’s got you.” 

👄

You don’t dream. You don’t think. You don’t feel. There is only endless black. 

A sliver of light pierces the void. It's too bright. Painfully so. Your eyes slit and you peek out from beneath heavy eyelids. You don’t recognise those walls, the bed is too soft to be yours, and this place doesn’t smell familiar. You take a deep breath and force your eyes open. 

Soft light glows through large panes to your left. The bed on which you lay is swathed in the dull tones of the morning rising just outside. You’re laid beneath blankets, several layers that make you sweat, and a cushy pillow cradles your head, many more litter the bed along the top. There’s too much of everything. 

The ceiling and walls are black, the bed frame too, the silky and dark, with a fluffy zebra print throw across the foot. You can’t see much more as you lay on your back. You might not know where you are but you can certainly figure who brought you there. 

On cue with your consciousness, the opposite the bed opens and you raise your head to watch a shadow enter. It reminds you of another figure, that one rippled with disorientation and impending darkness. He reaches to flip the switch beside the door and the two sconces mounted above the bet light up. 

It’s him. It wouldn’t be anyone else. That stranger from the cafe. Your personal tormentor. The man who calls himself Lloyd and a litany of ridiculous names. 

He stares back at you. You’re struck dumb with the dregs of you unconcscious and disbelief, meanwhile he looks almost giddy. A smile curves his lips under the line of hair and he rubs his palms together as he shifts his weight between his feet. He raises his hands appeasingly. 

“Jellybean, before you scream, please hear me out,” he pleads. 

You couldn’t scream if you tried. You’re too weak. This can’t be happening. Why would you be here? In a nice bed, in a nice room. You should be in some twisted torture chamber or out in the middle of the woods. If he’s going to kill you, he needs to at least be straightforward about. 

He turns and strides over to another door; a closet. He slides it open and tuts as he browses the contents. You can’t see past him. You barely even try as you let your head fall back against the pillow. 

“So, thoughts?” He turns to face you again as he holds up two hangers, “the navy is cute. I like the polka dots and the see throughness here and here, but the pink would bring out your complexion.” 

Your eyes flit down and you gape at the two dresses, one in each hand. You shake your head and blink. You bring a hand up and touch your forehead, a grumble slipping free. 

“You’re right, jellybean, it’s late,” he turns to put the dresses back in the closet, “we can deal with that in the morning. It’s not too far away... just a few hours.” 

He nears the bed and you shrink down, curling your shoulders in as you fold your arms over the blankets. He lowers himself next to you, an elbow in the pillows as he peers down at you. He reaches to touch your cheek and you try to move away. He barely seems to notice as he strokes your face. 

“I’ve just been so excited I can’t sleep,” he drags his knuckle around lightly, “but I didn’t want to wake you up. You need to rest. After everything you’ve been through.” He brings his legs up onto the bed and wiggles down to his side, “I know you don’t take care of yourself like you should, baby face, but that’s okay, because you have me now.” 

“Why... are you doing this?” You wisp out. 

He laughs, “you’re so funny...” he pets your chin, “and cute and...” he trails his hand down and squeezes your shoulder, “small. You’re adorable.” 

“Please,” you groan. 

“Why am I doing what?” He asks coyly, “why am I taking care of you? Why am I ready to give you everything? Why am I dying just to hear your voice and see your face and...” he stops and leans in, giving a deep sniff, “smell your hair?” 

You want to shrivel up. Your lip quivers as the daze recedes and the fear sets in. He’s delusional and you have no way out. You don’t even know where you are. It hardly matters, you doubt you could get very far. 

“You’re right. We should sleep. We have tomorrow to get settled in,” he reaches back to flip the light switch next to the bed, dimming the sconces back to black.  

He lifts himself to free the blankets from beneath him and sidles under them. He nestles close as you go rigid. He slips his arm under you as he nuzzles your cheek. 

“And every day after that. We have a whole lifetime ahead of us, jellybean. Me and you. Together forever...” he stretches his other arm over your stomach, “I never liked fairy tales before, babes. Not til you.” 

You close your eyes. You’re tired but there’s no way you’re falling back asleep. This is a waking nightmare. 

👄

The man, Lloyd, starts to snore. You feel his muscles relax and feel his breath steady against you. As much as you want to push him away and run, you can’t. You don’t know what it is. It’s akin to sleep paralysis. You’re awake but you can’t fight what’s happening. Something in your mind tells you it’s futile. 

The sun rise on the other side of the large windows. In any other circumstance, you would admire a place like this. The sleek furniture, the luxurious blankets, the expansive view. It’s a far cry from your cramped apartment and its small windows. 

You can only wallow in helpless self-pity. How did this happen? How did you let it happen? If you hadn’t been so indulgent, you would’ve never been seen. You should’ve known better than to go down to that cafe and splurge on something so menial. You could have made your own tea. You could’ve stayed inside, stayed safe. 

His closeness has you sweating. It’s uncomfortable and itchy. You want to rip your skin off. 

He moves and you hold your breath. He’s waking up. That can’t be good. At least asleep, he can’t do much. You curl your fingers into your palm and wait. 

“Mmm,” he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against your cheek before planting a kiss, his mustache tickles, “this is heaven. I can’t...” he pushes himself up, planting his hand on the mattress, “I can’t believe this is real. You’re really here.” 

You look at him, almost glaring as you let your distress burn through. He doesn’t even notice as he rubs your arm and his blue eyes dance over you. Laying next to him as he looms over you, his size is more obvious. He’s much bigger than you. 

“Coffee?” He asks, “I got this new dark roast. All the way from Colombia. I haven’t even tried it. I’ve been waiting on you. Bet it’s much better than that InstaCafe.” 

You blink at him. All your fears are coming true. It’s not that he’s snatched you, it that he’s been watching you. You might never know how long but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change this moment. 

“And breakfast, if you’re hungry. I know you usually skip that but--” 

“Please stop,” you croak, “please...” 

“What? Honey, I’m just trying to show you all I can do for you. You don’t have to do all the work anymore. Staring at a screen is bad for your eyes. And your posture.” 

“I... I didn’t mind...” 

“Ah, that’s just you. You’re a hard worker. Resilient. You do what needs to be done. You don’t complain and you don’t make demands. Baby, you don’t have to. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you without you even asking.” 

“I liked... being alone. I want to be alone,” your breath hitches between words as panic pulses in your chest. 

“Do you want to be alone or do you not know what it’s like to have someone? Jellybean, I’m scared too. You’re the first girl I’ve had in my bed that made it past dawn. Hell, the first girl I didn’t... you know,” he gives a crooked grin. 

Your lips part as you stare at him, dumbfounded. Sure, he didn’t do more than forcibly cuddle you but it doesn’t change what he did do. You shake your head and sputter as you search for words. 

“You followed me.” 

“I kept you safe,” he insists. 

“You turned my water off. I...” 

“That’s what the IV is for,” he reaches over to touch your other arm. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the tubing before. “I brought you tea. All you had to do was open up--” 

“You threw something through my window... there was smoke...” your lashes flutter as the memories creep back in. 

“I did what had to be done,” his grin falls away and his expression turns stony, “what you made me do.” 

You stare at him, speechless. 

“I haven’t given you any reason not to trust you. I mean, all you had to do was have a coffee with me. Or even open your door. Honey, I should be mad at you. You hung me out to dry but I can forgive you,” his face softens again, “how can I not?” His eyes go doey, “you’re so beautiful.” 

You lay there, unmoving. You feel as if any suddenness might trigger him. He traces along your cheek and jaw and down your neck, “did you decide?” 

You narrow your eyes and frown. 

“A dress? Blue or pink?” 

You don’t answer him. You just look at him as he continues to touch you. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as a chill rolls through you. 

“You know what, neither. I get it. You want something more classy. Yeah, given the occasion, I think you’re right, baby face,” he leans over you and looks you in the eye, “we’ll have a look in the closet after breakfast.” 

Before you can react, his lips are on yours. You let out a surprised squeak as he holds your chin in place. His mustache tickles you again and his tongue flits across your lips, wetting them just slightly before retracting. He pulls away and sighs. 

“Wow.” 

[daenysx]

Enjoying cinnamon girl sleepover very much so far!

I adore fall, but the end of summer always brings on a wave of mysterious melancholy for me and SO much anxiety 🥲 so I guess my request would be modern! aemond comforting reader in a moment of anxiousness, with cozy fall vibes! Much love to u! 🫶🏻

i definitely agree with you, thanks for requesting, angel <333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

"enjoyed the bookstore?" aemond asks as you inspect the books you got today. you have this weird feeling today which is the main reason that got you in the bookstore earlier, you wanted a distraction.

"very much." you say, extending him a book from your pile. "this is for you. i remembered you mentioned it."

no matter how much time passes, the feeling of being listened to will be strange to aemond. he casually mentioned a book and you got it for him the next day? must be some kind of a dream. he leans in for a kiss, cups your cheeks softly. it's his way of saying thank you, other than whispering it against your lips.

the kiss lifts your mood a little. he notices something's off with you today, you aren't so chipper about the new season after summer as you are almost every day. you didn't force him to drink too-sweet-fall-themed coffee, or bought something for halloween no matter how excited you are for it.

"are you okay?" he asks, pulling you to his lap. you soften immediately, put your head on his shoulder.

"i don't know if i'm ready to go back to old routines and everything. i think i wanted summer to last more. more free time to think, get ready for things, you know?"

aemond nods. no matter how much you like halloween and fall, it's hard to get back to the usual stuff. you know you'll get more tired, colder, busier. you'll always feel like you need more time to adjust.

"i know." aemond agrees. "but you also like having a busy mind, having stuff to do all the time, and feeling productive. maybe we should focus on that part instead of being upset over the season."

"maybe." you say, you're not sure. "i don't know."

it's a clue for him to drop the subject for now. he rubs your back to ease off your tension, to give you something for comfort. his kisses on your cheek are slow, his hand extended to you to play with his fingers.

"i got you something today." he says. "would you like to see it?"

you lighten up, eyes wide. your nod is quick, aemond is quicker to reach his bag on the side to get you your gift.

"i thought- it would make you feel better." he explains, giving you a little box.

"thank you." you say, fondly, kiss his cheek before opening your present. it's a pumpkin shaped, scented candle. it's small enough to be kept on your nightstand all the time.

"it's so beautiful." you say. "i'll never be able to use it, i'll just keep it unburnt like this forever."

"please, use it." he says, accepts another kiss on his lips. "i'll get you a new one any time you want."

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[tinycoffeeroom]

new home | arthur hill

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hey saw you were looking for requests for Arthur hill maybe like going on your first holiday together or like moving in together x

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 18,028 others

y/nstagram all moved in ! new roomie seems ok, he keeps singing a song about an old cowboy though?

arthurnfhill FEEL LIKE JOHN WAYNE ↳ fan RIDING THROUGH THE CITY ON MY OWN ↳ fan JUST AN OUTLAW ON HIS WAY HOME ↳ fan THE GOOD THE BAD THE UGLY ↳ fan I'VE SEEN IT ALL ↳ y/nstagram thanks for the karaoke guys x

lisahull_hill my big boy all grown up :( can't wait to come see what you do with the place x ↳ arthurnfhill mum i've not lived at home for years... ↳ lisahull_hill you've never lived with a girlfriend though! x ↳ y/nstagram lisa i need you to come round soon and help me i'm about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions x ↳ lisahull_hill i'll pop round tomorrow x

fan why is the champagne in the sink tho ↳ y/nstagram freezer machine Broke ↳ y/nstagram on a real note though, fuck currys bc WHY has our freezer been delayed by a week ↳ fan i'll fight them queen ♥️ y/nstagram

fan the books... can't wait to see the book nook!!! ↳ y/nstagram i'm so excited!!! annoyed arthur half to death talking about different bookcase options but i found a gorgeous set on facebook marketplace and its gonna look SO GOOD!! ↳ fan pls give us a tour!!!! ↳ y/nstagram keep a look out on my stories xx

georgeclarkeey it's not too late to come home arthur, your side of the bed feels so empty x ↳ y/nstagram womp womp go shag the other arthur or something ↳ georgeclarkeey he won't open his door :( ↳ arthurtv im protecting my peace ↳ georgeclarkeey im grieving the loss of my boyfriend and you won't even give me a cuddle </3 ↳ arthurnfhill i'm not dead????? ↳ georgeclarkeey it's like i can still hear his voice sometimes... ↳ arthurnfhill i hate it here

bffstagram georgeclarkeey can u have arthur over the weekend, i want a girls night with my gf x ↳ georgeclarkeey only if you take him back on the monday, i have stuff to do ↳ arthurnfhill feeling very much like basil right now ↳ willne uncalled for? ↳ miaxmon i have sole custody of basil pls delete arthur it's a sore spot for will ↳ arthurnfhill only if he apologises for making fun of my mullet AND THEN getting one himself ↳ willne y'know what the basil jokes aren't too bad

fan need a relationship like theirs PLEASE ↳ arthurnfhill all she does is bully me??? seek help ↳ y/nstagram ARTHUR i only bully you like 50% of the time... and you do it too ↳ arthurnfhill i would never bully my girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram the notebook night? ↳ arthurnfhill ok point taken ↳ fan parents <3 ♥️ y/nstagram, arthurnfhill

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Even with all the preparation that had gone into the move, you were still unprepared for the overwhelming amount of boxes that lined the halls of your new flat.

You and Arthur had discussed the idea of buying a house, but with his job being based in central London and the two of you still being young, renting a flat seemed like the best option before diving head first into the nightmare that was mortgages and white picket fences.

The first night the two of you moved in, only the TV and mattress had been unpacked, the stress of bringing all the boxes in tiring the both of you out to the point where the mattress lay haphazardly in the middle of the room and the TV lay slanted against the living room wall.

Arthur lay beside you, eyes half heartedly looking through Uber Eats open on his phone. "Chinese or Indian?"

You took a moment, trying to decipher what you would prefer most. "Hmm, maybe pizza? The other two require utensils and to be honest, I have no idea where our kitchen stuff is."

Arthur hums in response, turning his head to look past you. "I'm pretty sure they're in the bathroom, I think I tripped over our bowls when I went to pee."

Exhaustion must be catching up to you as you don't even question how the boxes labelled "KITCHEN" in black sharpie had ended up there.

After the pizza had been ordered, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, the quiet drone of whichever episode of Friends was queued on the TV floating through the air. A bottle of red wine had been opened at some point and the two half full glasses sit precariously on fake wood floors.

You must have slightly fallen asleep at some point, coming around to the smell of freshly cooked dough and a smiling Arthur staring down at you.

"You were dead to the world, not even the sound of me stacking it over our bathroom towels could wake you." He laughs at the memory, sitting down beside you and handing you a box.

You raise the lid, welcoming the mouthwatering scent of pizza as you shuffle up to sit. "I could smell the pizza."

Arthur guffaws around the piece stuffed halfway into his mouth, eyeing you playfully. "Of course it was the food that raised you from the dead."

Shoving his shoulder with your own, you tuck into the meal in front of you, eyes tuned on the TV as The One with All the Thanksgivings starts playing.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

arthurnfhill uploaded 3 pictures to their story

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

y/nstagram uploaded three photos to their story

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It had been a stressful few days. You weren't lying when you told Lisa you were about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions. Luckily, she'd popped round the next day, armed with a small mini fridge and freezer which she made Arthur carry into the house. You could have cried when she produced a cute "congratulations on your new home" card and a bouquet of sunflowers.

The two of you sat on the half put together sofa and scoured the Dunelm website for all their cushion options, opting for some light brown teddy bear ones and some darker brown velvet cushions. Arthur stayed out of the interior design chat, instead opting to run some water into a pint glass for the flowers and bring over two cups of tea for both of you before he disappeared off into his studio room to sort out the wiring.

"Typical man, leaving us to make the place look pretty."

You giggled at Lisa's comment, pointing out the framed artworks sitting propped against the wall. "He picked those out, to be fair to him. We decided he'd do the decorating and I'd just focus on the furnishings."

You continued on your Dunelm hunt, bookmarking everything you thought would look good in your new home, Lisa throwing in a few suggestions as to what you may need. By the time the two of you felt you had sufficiently scoured the website, it was nearing dinner time. Arthur popped his head round the corner to ask if you wanted him to run out and grab something to eat, but Lisa shook off his question, grabbing your hand and her car keys.

"Y/N, we'll nip out now and pick up a few bits, including a vase," she eyed the pint glass begging to tip over, "and we'll pick up some dinner too."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, smiling at how Lisa had taken you under her wing. Ever since he'd introduced the two of you, she'd taken an immediate shining to you, often sending you silly pictures that reminded her of you or organising coffee dates for the both of you to catch up.

One round trip for a vase and some cleaning essentials as well as a nice pub that did takeaway carveries later, you and Lisa bundle through the front door, giggling about the man in the elevator who had assumed the two of you were mother and daughter. Lisa had replied a cheeky "not yet" and had thrown a wink your way.

Arthur had moved from his studio to the living room, head popping over the back of the sofa at the sound of the two of you laughing. "What did I miss?"

One look at Lisa had you both giggling again, waving Arthur off as you unpacked the takeaway bowls of carvery and scoured the boxes for cutlery.

Arthur eyed the two of you warily, directing his mum to the sofa as he came to search for some glasses for the bottles of Coke you had picked up as well. Dropping a small kiss to the back of your neck, he smiled fondly when your eyes meet.

"This is nice."

You hummed, working on taking off the plastic lids. "Yeah, we were lucky to find the pub, Google Maps was useless."

He shook his head, one arm wrapping around your waist as he looks at his mum setting in on the sofa. "No, I mean this. Being sat in our home and listening to you and Mum laughing about god knows what. I was so worried when I introduced you that she wouldn't like you, I don't even know why, it's impossible to hate you. But, it's nice. I'm happy."

You turned in his grasp, hand coming to rest on the side of his neck. A soft smile overtook your lips at the serene expression on his face. "I'm happy too. I'm glad we did this. I love you."

He matched your smile, a small "I love you too" passing his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to yours.

"Hey, hungry mum over here!"

Lisa's voice broke the bubble around the two of you, both of you looking over to see Lisa smiling fondly from the sofa.

"My apologies, dear Lisa, let me bring it over now!" Laughing softly, you press one last kiss to Arthur's lips before sliding out of his embrace.

The three of you eat in comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the TV and the occasional comment about the dinner from one of you.

The sun had long since set and you and Arthur tried to convince Lisa to stay, but she shook her head, stating the two of you needed your own space and left soon after, leaving behind warm hugs and a kiss to both of your heads.

Choosing to tidy up tomorrow, you both head to bed. You slid in first, welcoming Arthur's warm embrace as you settle in for the night. He peppered soft kisses to your shoulder blade, nuzzling his head into the spot afterwards. "Goodnight, I love you."

Brushing a hand through his unruly hair, you dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. "I love you too." Taking in the surprising quietness of central London, you closed your eyes, excited to wake up to a new day in your new home.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

y/nstagram uploaded three photos to their story

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

a/n: love love loveeeeee doing arthur hill requests <3 had to include my queen lisa x

[mt-oe]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬—modern mizu x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

This is my first fic in this blog. I'm quite nervous since it's been years since I wrote something creative and something outside of academics.

Yes, it's a popular song nowadays and I do only listen to selected songs by the artist. Might leave this be or might create a part 2. Let's see <3 Regardless, I hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa!

Update: Since I love ya'll, here's part two: mwa!

warning: not proofread, smut (mdni please!), she/her for mizu and implied afab reader, mention of virginity and bleeding

oh yeah, mizu is your ex-gf for this one.

I don't really know if she cares or not All I know is she left a lot of stuff in my apartment She's never getting back

It had been a few weeks since you and Mizu broke up. She had initiated it during the middle of the semester. You were too stressed out with your project and being in a demanding program, and to her, you were just too much.

That was not to say she didn't try.

She did.

She absolutely fucking tried her best.

Going out of her way to buy you meals even if she was busy too, buying the materials you needed, letting you cry against her, and even doing some of the parts you struggled with despite not even having a clue on what to do. Nobody could tell her she never even tried.

But like anything else, if it gets used to it, it gets tired. The constant fighting and the amount of time she had gone to bed with a heavy heart was draining her.

A few days after your break up, you had come and collected your things from her apartment. Her heart sunk as your frown greeted her upon opening the door. With the cardboard boxes behind you and your friend in the driver's seat waiting for you, it was clear to her that you were there to take back what was yours that both of you once claimed were 'ours'.

The once happy and comfy abode becoming gloomy and cold as the trinkets you have displayed, the clothes you claimed are still clean, and the books you bought but never read were now gone.

It was just her and her thoughts. Her and her memories with you.

And as the smell on my pillow fades Her cigarettes might stay Like a Roman Coliseum A dry and worthless monument to our love

A sigh escaped her lips as she laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The bed that was once so warm with plushies and fluffy blankets was now cold. She rolled over and looked at what was once your side of the bed. Your pillow still smelled faintly of you, a smell that brought her so much joy and comfort.

As she leaned closer to the pillow and closed her eyes, allowing herself to take in the fading scent from your pillow, the image of you laying down beside her appeared in her mind.

"Good morning.." You whispered groggily, giving her a sleepy yet angelic smile. Your cheek against the pillow as the rays of the morning sun shone against your hair, giving it a brighter hue than it usually had.

A small, almost unseen, smile appeared on Mizu's lips. Her long, slender fingers tucking in a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture sent a shiver down your spine, making you grip the blanket closer to your bare chest, covering the love bites and hickeys she had given you. Her sharp blue eyes scanning every detail of your face. The way your cheeks was subtly smushed against the pillow, the flutter of your eyelashes as you blinked, the way your pupils dilated as you stared back at her.

You purse your lips as you stared back, a glint of mild amusement swirling with the admiration you had for your girlfriend. "What..?" you chortled, leaning closer to her.

"Nothing." She gently pulled you closer, hand giving the plush of your ass a light playful squeeze. "Just admiring..."

I still have your lighter I still have your book I still have everything you brought, but you never took

Mizu let out a groan, opening her eyes to the dull sight of her wall. "That's right.. She's gone.' she thought, rolling her eyes at herself for even feeling a bit of joy reminiscing about you beside her.

Pushing herself up, her hand reached onto her bedside table to grab a cigarette. Her back rested against the bedframe, she placed the cig between her lips. A Marlboro Red. Before you, she used to smoke blues, a recommendation by Taigen that never left her.

That was until she met you.

After meeting you, she went from smoking a pack or two a day to chewing on gum. It wasn't because you convinced her to quit or to appeal to you. It was because she wanted all of you. The taste of your lips, the taste of your tongue—hell, even the taste of your perfume when she pulled you in. She wanted it all.

Now, she was back to smoking. Your absence leaving a pit in her and an odd sense of loneliness in her mouth. This time, she was smoking reds, a want to forget your taste to cope with the ache you left.

Well, she was about to, but when her hands reached into her drawer for a lighter, she found none.

A small "what the fuck?" left her lips as she sat up straight, pulling the bedside drawer out fully to search for the small metal lighter she always kept. Eyebrows knitting together, she pulled out every item in her drawer but to no avail. Her lighter was not there.

What she found, however, was a book. Your book. It was already unwrapped and some corners folded in place of a bookmark. Her heart stopped as she inspected it, hand taking the cigarette from between her lips and onto her ashtray.

Mizu opened the book and began reading from the page where you left off. After scanning over the words printed on the novel, she set it down before letting out a huff of bittersweet amusement. Yup, this book was definitely hers now.

It was a mature novel. A damn fucking smutty novel.

"Mizu.." You called out, a sly yet playful look on your face. You walked over to her desk with the book in your hand, finger slipped in between the pages.

She looked up from the computations she was doing, head turning towards you. "What is it?"

Your hands opened the book, placing it on top of her notebook. Her eyes scanned the paragraphs you highlighted, eyes narrowing as she read out the graphic descriptions of the characters shoving their digits inside each other, each word describing the erotic sounds made and the intensity of the arousal the characters felt.

She gulped, swallowing the pooling saliva at the back of her mouth as she handed the novel back to you. "What...do you mean by this?" she asked carefully, cautious not to embarrass herself by revealing how the written scene made her feel some sort of heat between her legs.

Hands slipped down between her legs, eliciting a groan from the usually stoic woman as you slid your hands down. "Mizu." You bent down to her height and tossed the closed book on top of her desk, knocking the pens and pencils further back.

"I want to do that too."

You know where to find me And I know where to look

The scene replayed in her mind like a video tape. The way you looked at her with such want. The way she pushed you down roughly against the bed, hand taking off your dress with such desire she almost ripped it by the seams. The way your eyes looked up at her as if waiting for her to continue, demanding her to continue.

Your back arched against the mattress, hands gripping the sheets as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Fuck.." Mizu breathed out, watching the strap-on sink in to your glistening cunt. A choked back moan escaping your lips as you bit your cheeks in, tears springing from the corner of your eyes as the plastic stretched you further.

"Halfway in, dove." She groaned out, eyebrows furrowing as if she could feel you through the toy, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs harder.

Your eyes glanced at her before rolling back as she pushed the strap-on further inside, the pain of the stretch making you whimper. "W-Wait...please.." You moaned in a whiny, slightly pained manner, a hand moving from gripping the sheets to gripping Mizu's arm.

Her movements halted immediately upon feeling your nails against her arm, digging into it and creating crescent-shaped marks. Her eyes traveled from the pained-yet-pleasured expression on your face to your hole.

"Holy shit..." She whispered, pulling out a bit to see it clearly. Blood. You were fucking bleeding. "Dove...I'm so fucking sorry. I—"

She was cut off by you pulling her down for a kiss. Your hands wrapped around her as your nails dug on to her shoulder, eliciting a moan from her. Mizu had no idea you were a virgin. It was never a piece of information she had considered nor cared about until now. In fact, her concern was placed on the fact that you were bleeding.

Her eyes widened as she felt your legs wrapping around her back, pulling her closer and pushing the toy in more. "Take it..." You moaned out, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck me...take me"

You were offering yourself to her, letting her take your first time.

Mizu's eyes narrowed, the feeling of worry disappearing as it was replaced by a carnal desire. Her hands gripped your trembling thighs harder as she lifted them up more and pushed you down further, almost knocking all the air out your lungs as she put you in a mating press position.

Her hips pushed the toy inside you, biting her lip at the wet squelching noise your pussy made. A moan escaped both your throats as the length of the toy was fully inside you. She paused for a moment before looking at you with narrowed eyes as if asking you for consent to continue.

The moment you nodded, she immediately pulled the toy almost all the way out before pushing it completely, eliciting a loud moan from you. Her hips continued to move, motion starting of slow but hard. The pain from your nails raking down her back stung, but she continued to move, not even bothering to move your hands.

How could she?

The sight of you taking her, all of her, like the good girl you are was scrumptious.

"Hurry...please.." You pleaded, thoughts blanking out as the pleasure overrode the pain you were previously in. Each thrust sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The pleads coming from your mouth becoming incoherent as Mizu thrusts in faster and harder.

She gripped your chin, forcing you open your mouth before capturing you in another kiss. Her tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth, smiling slightly as she tasted you. Her eyes watching over your expression as she moved, taking in the way your eyes looked at her and the way it rolled back when she thrusted the dildo in roughly.

Your legs trembled as you continued to lock her in, pushing against her more. Incoherent moaning and whining mixed with low groans and grunts filled the room. The tightening feeling building up inside you as Mizu continued to move. Her thumb rubbed against your clit, making you moan almost desperately.

It didn't take long for your climax to come, a wave of pleasure bursting in you. She placed her hand against the small of your back as you arched against her. The way you closed your eyes shut, the way your eyebrows furrowed, the tears of pleasure that streamed down your face, the way your cheeks flushed. You were so fucking beautiful to her.

Mizu snapped back into reality, rubbing her face against the palm of her hands in frustration. The regret of breaking up settling in her. She stood up and placed the cigarette between her lips again. Her feet making no noise as walked over to the kitchen to grab the kitchen lighter she kept in cabinets, lighting the red and taking a puff out of it.

A groan escaped her lips as the self-hatred from making such a foolish decision sunk into her. After a moment of thought, she put on her dark biker jacket and a bunch of rings she put on as a habit before going out.

There was no way she'll let herself live in regret like this. Not after you let her take all of you.

Call it thieving, stealing, but she's taking back what's not hers.

Thievin', stealin', takin' what's not yours

[thehistoriangirl]

Hi!

Could you write something for Viktor in this Father's Day please??

Thank you so much, have a great day 🖤

Hi anon! For sure :3 I hope you like it

Little Genius

Viktor x Fem!Reader---1.4K----SFW

Tags: Established Relationship (they're married) | Pregnancy | Fluff | Viktor would be such a great dad yall can't change my mind | Happy Father's day to all who celebrate :3 | This is not proofread at all bc Father's Day is over in less than an hour i'm sorryyyy ;---; |

Viktor felt your head nudging against his side, making him lower the book he was reading since yesterday—since you had finished it without waiting for him to read it out loud. A small betrayal Viktor washed away with your extra long session of kisses after dinner.

He reached to turn off the lamp, your hand brushing his before he could pull the tiny rope. Golden eyes took in your alert face, body wiggling closer to him so Viktor could rest his right leg over your hip.

His hum reverberated in your whole body due to the closeness of your cheek and his chest, heart beating content as you melted against the soft touches, the nonsensical patterns he drew against the thin, worn-out fabric of your pajamas.

“Not tired yet?” he asked, looking at the clock hung on the wall almost reaching midnight.

“I want to show you something,” you said, fiddling with the loose threads of his favorite blanket, the one he packed from his house in Zaun and kept in Piltover, even now.

He mourned the sudden loss of your warmth once you incorporated in your elbows, reaching for the nightstand on your side of the bed. Though curiosity made his golden eyes twinkle as your fingers scouted the insides of the last drawer.

“What is it?” Viktor peeked over your shoulder, seeing your hand gently cradling a small, white box tied close with a golden ribbon. “Are you going to propose, my love? Because I’m sorry to tell you this, but I beat you to it around two years ago,” he chuckled, rubbing with his thumb over the golden band decorating a finger in your left hand. Soft, slightly dry lips kissing the reverse of your palm once you glared playfully at him.

“You’re not funny,” you said, thought your curved lips testified completely the opposite.

“I hate to argue with the love of my life, but I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t have win you over.”

“Well, what if I say that you win me over with your terrible jokes?”

Viktor feigned a deep betrayal just like they were represented in the Opera House; hand clutching his shirt over his heart, closing his eyes while his face twisted in a grimace of hurt. “Your words break my heart.” His hands enveloped your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You better have a plan to wound up my poor heart. Your devote lover is very sensible.”

You beamed at him, eyes crinkled in crescents. “I do have one.” Wriggling against his tangled hug, you sat with your legs crossed, settled right in front of Viktor, putting the box on his chest. “Open it.”

The mysterious object was covered with a layer of paper, and for a few moments all that it could be heard inside your shared room was the wrinkled paper being pushed away to reveal the gift.

“Huh?” Viktor frowned, his fingers brushing the softest fabric as he raised the clothing out the box to see it against the light of the bright, golden lamp.

A vivid, burnt yellow bib made of crochet in a pattern oddly familiar for his own baby clothes kept inside a bag under his mother’s bed back in Zaun. The lettering read: Papa’s Little Genius.

He gazed at you, founding your expression of pressed lips about to burst into giggles. “My love?”

“Do you know what day is today?” you said, brushing the empty box away to straddle his hips.

“Sunday?” He could barely articulate any words with your comfortable weight pressed against him.

You lowered over his chest, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and nibbling on his ear just for the fun to see his pale skin flush deep crimson every time. “It’s Father’s Day,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, goosebumps traveling all over his body as his body torn between your allure making pool molten desire down his stomach, and his brain scrambling around by your shushed words.

“Father’s…” he said, holding your shoulders as he looked down toward you and over the bib resting on the pillow next to him. His golden eyes opened, a gasp hitching his already quickening breath. “Are you… you… I… we…”

You burst out laughing, your vision became blurry with the halo of tears pooling in your eyes. “Yes...,” you whispered, as if it were such a delicate thing, a dream, almost, that if talking too loud about it would make it disappear. “You’re going to be a Papa very soon.”

His teary eyes matched yours as he hugged him flush against him, taking in the smell of your hair, how perfectly he feels blessed at just basking in your presence. And now, not only had you given him your whole body and soul and heart. No, you were about to give him a legacy—a future carved in his blood and flesh.

A child.

His child.

His rough fingerpads caressed your cheeks, wishing to take in every little detail about this moment so he could treasure it for eternity.

“I thought I was the luckiest person in the whole world when you accepted to be my spouse, but now?” He laughed, wiping your tears away. “Now words can’t describe how I feel knowing that you’re carrying our baby.”

Viktor chuckled, his smile that one of a child’s that had just discovered the wonders of life for the first time. His hand cradling your belly.

“Hi, little one,” he muttered, almost afraid to cause a bad impression to his unborn baby. Fingers gently caressing the soft skin under your shirt. “I’m your Papa. Hi,” Viktor repeated, finding himself in a loss of words. “I… I promise I’m going to read a lot of books about parenting, and that I’m going to come up with pretty toys for you, and I promise that I will make daily time to play with you… and sing to you… and tucking you to bed,” his voice broke, a knot straining his throat. “I don’t know anything about being a father, but I promise you I will be the best for you, little one.”

With a groan, he sat on the bed, lowering his head to kiss your belly, hands interlocked in the small of your back. “Only the best for you and your stunning mother. I hope you look just like her,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I will struggle to ground if that occurs… hmm, just be easy on me, alright?”

He looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and pure, unfiltered adoration.

“I just know about them, but I already love them so,” Viktor confessed, caressing your hair, his hands pulling down your chin so his lips could encounter yours. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He mumbled between kisses of all kind—as soft as the brush of a feather, bold ones with his teeth biting your bottom lip, his tongue exploring your mouth in a slow, sensual dance. “I love you. I love you both,” he corrected, patting your belly.

“Do you like the bib?” you hummed, and he laughed. “Your mother scold me a lot because I kept getting lost while knitting the pattern.

“I knew I recognized that style.” He scanned the bib, arching a playful eyebrow toward you. “Little Genius, eh? Pretty high standards, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, swatting his chest lightly. “You say that as if you won’t let them see all your blueprints and chalkboards full of equations the moment they’re born.”

Viktor’s heart fluttered at the thought. He would have to babyproof his studio—and for sure his child wouldn’t step inside the lab without a full-body protective uniform, but the thought of sharing with someone else besides you about his vision of the world and the place he had in it made him feel like he was inside paradise.

A personal goal to make this world much happier, and safer, and fairer.

His baby’s world.

“I love you,” he said, kissing your whole face with delicate kisses that poured out everything words could never express. His devotion. His love. Everything. “I will never be able to pay you back for this…this miracle.”

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” you said, hands resting over his quickly-beating heart. “I love you, too. And your love for both of us is more than enough.”

He smiled widely, showing you that grin you adored so much, that made you melt and wish you could, too, give him the whole world.

“How lucky I am,” he hummed, settling you against his chest. “To have my whole universe safely resting in my arms.”