#Sun is still hotter
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starlightsams4 · 2 months ago
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lunar, take your spouse
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eddiestightywhities · 2 months ago
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i too would be passed out on a gurney
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bigclownshoes · 1 month ago
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so jayce became homeless and viktor became jesus. how we feeling on that one chat
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thereareeyesinsidethetrees · 3 months ago
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celestial stan sees shrimp colors
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spite-and-waffles · 2 years ago
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The thing about looking up fancasts for the Batkids is that age-appropriate casting reminds me what older teenagers actually look like (Small children. Kidlets. Are we really playing in the same sandbox as these wee babbs?) which makes me question all my life choices. The oldest fancasts are about twenty-five (when the fuck did Chloe Grace Moretz turn 25??? The child is still knee high to a grasshopper in my mind. Ryan Potter is 27??? FFS just put me out to pasture) most of whom still look like children to me. I started reading these comics when I was eighteen. This is like staring into the face of my own mortality.
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That said, Lili Reinhart is the Stephanie of my heart.
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playingonedchess · 5 months ago
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urgh why is it still so hot
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visibun · 6 months ago
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tired of this cunt
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suckitupsunshine · 11 months ago
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Summer Dog Despair
school holidays are almost up and puppies
pine pitifully
behind six-foot, solid metal fences
the static of the still, hot air
holds their howling close
like humid hours before a summer storm
press the sweat back onto my skin
the whimpering is pushing in, down
a cloying pressure, it’s intolerable
it is new, it is old
summer suburbs
containing regimented boxes, perimeters
holding us neatly in, rigidly apart
pressing us too close
radiating heat
spilling onto the streets
our dozens of cars and wheelie bins
and none of us in sight
occupied, being squeezed
by institutions and the atmosphere
waiting out the sun
summer season is winding up
sucker punch
the nights are hot and restless
we are
wrung out and flattened by the evening
in solid air, no room to stretch
no time for puppy play
no time
new dogs make sad little noises
under the bright white moon
the quiet shrill despair
cuts through solid fences
through the window, to my heart
prone and impotent upon the bedsheets
small, sad sounds and silence pressing in
I will myself to be inert
I will the dogs to dream
the air before the dawn is heavy
I let it weigh me down
held close in summer’s arms
I fall away
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junicoins · 1 year ago
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do you think you're ugly or have you realised that you're hot and cool and such?
Maybe not hot or cool, but I'm at least a little cute and useful.
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kitasuno · 5 months ago
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with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader
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in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.
wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff
Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 
It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 
Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 
Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.
He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.
Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.
They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 
‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 
And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 
Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 
But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 
Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.
His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 
He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 
“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 
His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 
He meets you for the first time in February. 
You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 
You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 
You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 
He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 
He sees you a lot the year after. 
You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 
With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 
Osamu means To Rule.
The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 
He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 
Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 
It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 
Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 
But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 
“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”
He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 
“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 
“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 
It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 
He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.
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sometimesanalice · 2 years ago
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It is between me, Jesus, and Tom Cruise how many times I’ve read this one 👀😂
YOU REALLY DID A THING POSTING THIS AT LIKE 11 AM ON A WEDNESDAY!
I will not just copy and past the entire thing and italicize it, but I want to because JORDAN YOU DID THE MOST (oh look already all caps-ing)
you’d never once had the desire to call a partner that before in bed - ever. but with bradley it just fit. -- he simply is the DADDIEST. like stick a glass slipper on him and call it a day.
and again, you were a little tired from the edible and the champagne-- mmhmm, sure Jan. Ma’am we know what you’re thinking, but I love that she tries to justify it, lol
and then bradley tensed. and then bradley dug his fingers into your hips. and then bradley slightly pulled you off his cock. and then bradley settled you back on his cock, deeper this time. and then bradley groaned. -- AND THEN ALEXA LOST HER DAMN MIND! I looooooved the repetition of this and the kind of in the moment-ness of it all. Because it’s the first time she’s *really* said it, so like break out the scrapbook and document it!
you burrowed your face into his neck, knowing even on the cloud you were floating on that you had said something wrong. well, maybe not wrong. but something you probably should have brought up at another time. like when all seven and a half inches of your fiancé’s dick wasn’t inside you. -- 1) sweet, shy girl. even with a ring on it she’s still just a little hesitant with him in that moment. I love her and Bradley REALL LOVES HER and 2) BIG DICK BRADLEYYYYY ITS SCIENCE 
“you’re gonna have to work for it then…” you nodded, eagerly. anything. you’d do anything for bradley - for daddy. -- JUST ME SCREAMING!! HE’S DADLEY NOW
bradley slapped your ass with his other hand and you moaned around his thumb -- my god, this one really has me like 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 MY BRAIN JORDAN IM A 404 ERROR
daddy wanted you to bounce on his cock. daddy wanted you to work for it. daddy wanted you to be a good girl. -- AHHHHHHHHHHSDOFHSIDFHAOISHAISAOISFOIAHDGOHAODIFJAI
“‘atta girl…” -- JUST STICK A FUCKING FORK IN ME I AM DONNNNEEEE
(the smut has me blinking like there’s no engines firing in my brain, I’ve lost some IQ points but its a sacrifice I’d make again because 🥵)
“‘s all you, kid. come on,” he groaned. -- I AM WEAKKKKK 
you sighed and pulled back to look at him, knowing you were in for some teasing, but still more than willing to give it just as good. “don’t get used to it, bubs.” (but he would. and he did.) -- like godbless she just comes back from that and can tease him about while he’s still literally inside of her. I loved this little moment of humor, and that she is still trying to keep him on his toes even though like he knew but now he KNOWS
Anywayyyyysssssss this is the hottest piece of smut on this hellsite and I stand by that. 
Jordan!! Share the thoughts!!!! We all are having the same ones!!! Especially since we talked about spanking!!! I seriously need to get laid or find the charger to my vibrator I’m going insane™
the aforementioned spanking will have to wait until later because i can’t quite think of how to incorporate it into their storyline yet (what can i say he’s a Giver in the next two things i’m gonna post), but here’s some good old fashioned daddy shit and cockwarming to hopefully wet your whistle (why did i say it like that?)
OR the first time you call bradley daddy (18+)
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the first time it happened was an accident.
well, maybe not an accident, per se. you had thought it plenty of times since you’d been dating bradley and even more since you’d gotten engaged.
but you’d never said it. or at least not to him.
daddy. daddy. daddy.
you’d never once had the desire to call a partner that before in bed - ever. but with bradley it just fit.
and so one night, you had been a little tired from the edible you’d taken earlier (obviously bradley had to refrain) and buzzed from the champagne you were convinced you needed, and your inhibitions had been lowered - drastically. but the ironic thing was, you hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary. it wasn’t a scene or anything like that.
no. you were just sitting on his lap, chest to chest, as you warmed his cock after going another round earlier in the evening.
and again, you were a little tired from the edible and the champagne and your head was resting on his shoulder at the perfect angle for you to press little kisses across his cheeks and neck. so when you’d kissed the pretty little scar on his shoulder, he’d shuddered and shifted and you had let out a pitiful whimper. god, you felt so good. he always made you feel so good.
“feel so full, daddy.” you sounded wanton - you barely even recognized your own voice - you sounded tired, young, bratty.
daddy. daddy. daddy.
and then bradley tensed.
and then bradley dug his fingers into your hips.
and then bradley slightly pulled you off his cock.
and then bradley settled you back on his cock, deeper this time.
and then bradley groaned.
and then bradley said: “what was that again, sweetheart?”
you whimpered and couldn’t help but clench your pussy around his cock. embarrassed, you burrowed your face into his neck, knowing even on the cloud you were floating on that you had said something wrong. well, maybe not wrong. but something you probably should have brought up at another time. like when all seven and a half inches of your fiancé’s dick wasn’t inside you.
“daddy…” you whispered, except it came out needier than you would have liked.
bradley groaned and you could feel his cock twitch inside you. “you want more of daddy’s cock?”
“please,” you said into his neck, but bradley grabbed your chin so you were looking into his eyes.
he slipped his thumb into your mouth and you sucked on the tip. his fingers were still sticky from when they’d been inside you a few minutes ago and you felt warm at the thought of tasting yourself.
“you’re gonna have to work for it then…”
you nodded, eagerly. anything. you’d do anything for bradley - for daddy.
daddy. daddy. daddy.
bradley slapped your ass with his other hand and you moaned around his thumb. the action shot a hot wave of arousal straight to your throbbing core. god, you hadn’t even started moving and you already felt so full.
“come on, be a good girl and bounce on daddy’s cock.”
he was loving this, you could tell. if not from his physical reaction then from the cocky tone of his voice and the pleased smile on his face. but a breathier, sluttier voice at the back of your mind kept drowning the rational voice out and could only focus on one word.
daddy. daddy. daddy.
daddy wanted you to bounce on his cock. daddy wanted you to work for it. daddy wanted you to be a good girl.
you started off with slow, languid thrusts of your hips, gradually becoming deeper knowing that was the way bradley liked it - the way daddy liked it. his thumb slipped out of your mouth and then he drifted his hand down your body to play with your breasts. they were desperate for some attention and you jutted them out towards him. they were full and heavy and so sensitive and you let out a whimper as he pinched a nipple.
“‘atta girl…”
the obscene sound of the two of you fucked up against each other filled the room. you were so wet and turned on it was almost pathetic. granted, you still had bradley’s cum inside you from when you had fucked earlier. but god - it was so delicious. you could cum from the sound alone.
daddy. daddy. daddy.
as if reading your thoughts, bradley glanced down to where the two of you were connected and clicked his tongue. “fuck, ain’t that pretty?”
you nodded multiple times in quick succession. god, you were so close. so fucking close.
“harder, daddy, please.”
his hands snaked down to your hips and settled the two of you in a bruising pace and you swore you saw stars again for the second time that night. knowing you were close, bradley brought his hand down to where the two of you were connected and rubbed your clit. his middle and index finger played with the nub and you felt a pull in your stomach.
you arched your back and let out a moan, which he swallowed with his mouth. you both let out desperate gasps and grunts against each other’s mouths as you tried to see who would come first.
“‘s all you, kid. come on,” he groaned.
with a final cry, you came and bradley spent himself inside you soon after. you collapsed against his chest, utterly spent from the multiple times you had already cum that evening. god, you were so overstimulated. your entire body was wrought and warm and yet you still wanted to be closer to bradley. you peppered kisses along his jawline in between catching your breath.
“daddy, huh?” he said after a moment.
you sighed and pulled back to look at him, knowing you were in for some teasing, but still more than willing to give it just as good.
“don’t get used to it, bubs.”
(but he would. and he did.)
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notquitecanon · 6 months ago
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Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader
Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist
Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst
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Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.
You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.
Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.
“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“
“New dress, love?”
His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.
“Hm?”
Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.
“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”
You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“
You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.
“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.
“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.
“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.
“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“
Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”
“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“
“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.
“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.
“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”
“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“
Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”
Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.
___
I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me
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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months ago
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Fever
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Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 4.7K
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK
A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met. 
His dark, curly hair. 
His mustache. 
His sweet brown puppy dog eyes. 
His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio. 
Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact. 
Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was. 
That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating. 
And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible. 
You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head. 
God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up. 
As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed. 
Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he- 
“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up. 
“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window. 
“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.” 
And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response. 
“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts. 
“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal. 
“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-” 
Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg
“Who the fuck is calling me this early…” 
Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer. 
“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.” 
“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment. 
“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.” 
“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“Yo prometo (I promise).” 
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Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain. 
You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core. 
While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating.  You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you. 
After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent. 
Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them. 
“What the fuck is wrong with me today…”  You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life. 
It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day. 
You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.  
As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance. 
Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath. 
“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!” 
Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it. 
Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome. 
“H-hi baby. Everything okay?” 
“Mhmmmmmm.” 
“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion. 
“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other. 
“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest. 
“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.” 
Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you. 
“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you. 
“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-” 
This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.  
As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first. 
“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft. 
“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs. 
“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?” 
Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 
For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust.  Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.” 
Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.  
“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension. 
“Fucking right it is.” 
His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him. 
You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation. 
Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved. 
“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone. 
“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.” 
And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point. 
“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-” 
In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. 
You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand. 
“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone. 
“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.  
“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point. 
“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” 
“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.” 
If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be. 
“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.” 
Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls. 
Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck. 
Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.  
“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours. 
Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him. 
As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you. 
“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses. 
The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal. 
“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.
“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.” 
Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he. 
“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”  
 Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again. 
“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.” 
That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.
“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!” 
As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy. 
“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!” 
With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other. 
After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him. 
His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take. 
Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight. 
“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child. 
“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip. 
“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?” 
“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?” 
“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?” 
“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.” 
“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow. 
“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband. 
“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”  
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Taglist:
@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24
@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85
@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo
@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise
@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled
@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog
@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr
@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild
@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog
@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs
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curryshesus · 7 months ago
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jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul
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in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members
➺ bitchin - by @kinktae
summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.
➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk
summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.
➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae
summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien
summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton
summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts
summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts
summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces
➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie
summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.
➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons
summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.
➺ changes in between - by @taegularities
summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.
➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie
summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.
➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild
summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.
➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae
summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.
➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash
summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.
➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates
summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend
➺ if i told you - by @gukyi
summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.
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reidrum · 6 months ago
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like i would | s.r
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pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3
cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,
summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged
wc: 4.5k
_____________
you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.
spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 
it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.
so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.
apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 
spencer doesn’t buy it.
he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’
it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.
the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.
the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.
“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”
“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.
“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.
“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”
emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”
“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.
“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”
“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.
spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?
spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.
he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.
“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”
he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”
you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.
he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.
“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.
“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.
spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).
but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.
not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.
so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”
you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”
“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”
pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”
“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”
“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”
he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”
“what’s what spence, let me go.”
“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.
“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.
“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”
any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.
your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.
the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.
“i heard you, on the jet.”
you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 
he heard you?
“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.
the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?
the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.
“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”
his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.
“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.
your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”
the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.
“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”
your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.
“no.”
spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”
“no.” you say again, softer this time.
“should we change that?”
this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.
so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.
he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.
“yes.”
that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.
you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.
he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.
detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“
“please don’t stop.”
he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.
the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.
“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”
spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.
“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.
you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.
“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.
his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”
“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.
he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.
“oh fuck,” you cry.
“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.
you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.
“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”
“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.
the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.
he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.
the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.
his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.
he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.
spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.
“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.
“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.
you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.
he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 
it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.
your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.
your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 
spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.
you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.
“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”
“but…” you pathetically respond.
“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”
the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.
“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”
you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.
holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.
his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”
you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.
his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.
you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.
if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.
once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.
you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.
the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.
but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.
“spence…harder.”
he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.
“whatever you say, princess.”
and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.
“fuck,” you whine.
“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”
your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.
“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”
you whimper, “spencer,”
“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”
he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.
“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”
spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.
in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.
the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”
still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”
he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”
you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”
“me?” he says incredulously.
you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”
he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”
you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”
“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”
“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”
“just tell him i have a gun.”
“so does he?”
“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.
you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”
3K notes · View notes
ladysharmaa · 8 months ago
Text
Why don't you love me?
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?
(gif is not mine)
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It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.
It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.
Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.
This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.
From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.
However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.
She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?
So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?
It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.
"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.
"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.
At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."
The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."
"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"
However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.
"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"
Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."
When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."
"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.
Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.
But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.
One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.
It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.
To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.
Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"
"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.
The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.
On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.
"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.
"What?" he asked, still disoriented.
Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."
Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"
"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"
The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.
Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.
Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.
"It was silly of me to ask—"
"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."
"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"
"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."
"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.
"No."
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Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.
The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.
Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.
While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.
But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."
"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.
Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.
"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."
The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.
"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."
"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.
"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."
"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."
"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."
Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.
"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."
She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.
"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.
"Lord Bridgerton—"
"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.
"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"
"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."
"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."
"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."
"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.
She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.
Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."
"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."
And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.
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