#evidently the way of doing things at the one i was familiar with / around were not so pressed about silence / rare/limited socializing

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[shomatoriashi]

03/19/25; 02:15pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ how they seduce you in public ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

warnings: slight voyeurism.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the dinner party seemed to be dragging on for hours.

your bored expression was all too evident to the onychinus leader, letting out a rich chuckle when you kept pushing around the asparagus while taking minuscule bites of your steak.

“bored already, i see.” you give sylus a signature pout, biting into the asparagus with a little too much force, "i can't help it, this dinner party feels too stifling... and a bit too boring for my taste."

your lover lets out a hum, expression thoughtful while swirling his glass of red wine around, "well, mr. damien has always been my more... old fashioned business associates. he likes to keep things in a bit more of an... incognito fashion, even if today happens to be his birthday."

you were about to respond when one of the many servants places a cup of coffee in front of you, giving you a bow while telling you that this was the third course of the meal. once he leaves, you were left gaping at the unappetizing cup of black coffee. "who the hell thinks of coffee as a form of dessert?! not even a single slice of birthday cake?!"

ruby red eyes were glimmering with amusement now, with his rich chuckles echoing throughout the area as he scans the venue. "well sweetie, if this coffee isn't sweet enough for your taste, how about i give you some dessert?"

your lips were poised over your own glass of water, eyebrows shooting up in response as you wondered what he was scheming. before you could even ask, sylus gets off of his chair and hides beneath the table. heat was felt dusting at your cheeks when your strained voice harshly whispers, “what do you think you’re doing?!”

yet all you received was a simple hum in response, coupled along with the sensation of his hot breath felt between your legs. you could feel your heart lurching within your chest when large hands were felt gripping at your legs before spreading, and although you couldn’t see him, you could feel him.

you could feel the sensation of his teeth pulling down your panties-

you could feel the way his large hand cups at your center before sliding a finger within your folds-

and you could definitely feel the way his mouth latches on to you.

you grip at the edge of your seat, biting down harshly at your bottom lip when sylus’s tongue dives straight into your slick heat, flattening within you to capture as much of your honeyed arousal that he could manage. your breathing comes out in labored, uneven breaths, with you nearly crying out the moment he introduces another finger inside of your heat.

beads of sweat were felt running down your brow as you were subjected to his hedonistic touch, each stroke of his tongue and pinch felt from his fingertips bringing you that much closer to your completion-

until it all comes crashing down on you the moment you felt him sucking at your swollen bundle of nerves, forcing your release out of you when you emptied yourself into sylus’s awaiting mouth.

“hah…” in a complete daze, you saw sylus come back to his seat, his suit not quite as pristine as it once was as he clears his throat. meeting your gaze with a cheshire cat grin, he places an arm around your shoulder, basking in your trembling state while licking the evidence of your release off of his lips.

“now how was that for some dessert?”

you were currently waiting at the clinic for your annual checkup, seeing as though your boyfriend had been bothering you to get one for weeks now. flipping through the pages of the magazine, you sigh, ready to toss it back on the table when a familiar voice calls out your surname.

with your eyebrows furrowed, you stand back to your full height, clutching your bag closer to you as you were met with dr. zayne himself. with a tilt of your head, you softly call out his name, “zaynie?”

pushing up his glasses, he merely shakes his head at you, “it’s dr. zayne, now, will you follow me into one of our rooms so that we may begin your physical examination?”

letting out a sigh, you follow your boyfriend’s lead, walking deeper into the clinic. you pass by a few nurses and other doctors, giving them a polite nod and greeting before zayne suddenly stops in front of you. you ran into his broad back almost immediately, your nose taking the brunt of the impact as you immediately soothed the slight ache with your fingertips.

zayne faces you, gesturing at you to enter the room. giving him a simple nod, you take a step inside the clean and barren room, jumping slightly when zayne was heard closing the door from behind him. “go ahead and lay back on the bed.”

you watch as he adjusts his glasses, deciding to tease him a bit when you poke at his broad chest with your finger, “i didn’t think you would be the one to perform my physical exam, dr. zayne.”

“don’t be silly, miss. you know i spend some of my time working at the clinic.” he helps you by taking off your jacket, hanging it along with your purse against the door while coaxing you to lay back against the bed. the thin paper crinkles with your added weight, and you found yourself looking up at the bright lights above you.

blinking back the tears that threaten to fall in response to such brightness, you watch zayne from your periphery as he inches closer to you. the stethoscope was already settled within his ears, and you could detect the faint scent of his cologne when he presses the cold end of the stethoscope against your chest. he hums, eyebrows furrowed while letting out a sigh of your name.

“not good, i can’t seem to hear anything.” your breathing hitches the moment zayne places a hand beneath your shirt, gently removing it before tossing the fabric to the side. with your plain bra revealed to him, he places his stethoscope against your chest once more, now smiling when he could hear the steady racing of your heart.

“zayne…” you trail off, his name morphing from your parted lips into a soft mewl when you felt his fingertips dancing at the edge of your panties, detecting the growing moisture against the fabric.

“hn.” removing the stethoscope, he allows it to dangle across the back of his neck, trailing his gaze down the length of your legs before gently parting the fat of your thighs with his hands. “how interesting. i sense a sweet smell wafting off of you.”

bracing himself against the top portion of the bed, zayne delves his fingers within the waistband of your panties, inserting a finger inside of your slick heat. you were left gasping at the sudden intrusion, hearing the way your walls squelched each time zayne pumps his finger, as if welcoming him.

“ngh…” with a soft grunt of your name, zayne continues to pleasure you with his skilled fingertips, drawing out your soft moans for a brief moment before he slams the palm of his free hand against your lips, effectively silencing you.

“hush dear… or else someone may interrupt our physical examination. and we wouldn’t want that to happen now, would we?”

his startling eyes were eclipsed by an endless darkness, evident of his pure desire for you when he adds another finger within your cunt, further drawing out your pleasure as you got lost within his sinful touch.

the movie had been going on for far too long, and you regretted taking xavier out on such a boring date.

for starters, the movie was much too convoluted, introducing copious amounts of characters that made it that much harder to follow along. letting out a sigh, you take a chance to get a peek at your boyfriend-

only to see him close to dozing off several times during the movie.

with your lips pursed, you reached out to him, hands gripping at his to help with waking him up. he nearly jumps out of his seat as drowsy, true blue eyes meet your gaze from beneath the glow of the big screen. “hn? what is it?”

he yawns, wiping the sleep from his eyes when you lean in closer to whisper in his ear, “i’m really sorry. i didn’t think this movie would be so long and boring. should we get out of here?”

xavier shakes his head, gesturing to all of the snacks you had purchased to help with enjoying your date. “no, it’s alright. we can stay until the end…”

heaving out another sigh, you bite down at your bottom lip, “but that’s the thing, i didn’t realize this movie would be so… boring.”

xavier gives you a gentle smile, eyes already focused back on the screen when he asks, “shall i make this movie event less boring for the both of us?”

you give him a questioning glance, tilting your head when you saw how xavier had lifted the armrest that separated you from him. curious as to what he was doing, you felt your eyes go wide when his large hand nears the waistband of your pants.

“wait-“

a sharp gasp was ripped from your parted lips, feeling xavier pulling down your pants in a swift motion. once they were pulled down enough to reveal your panties did he finally make his move.

his eyes never strayed from the screen the moment you felt his fingers sliding into your slick walls. your breathing turns labored, hands already clinging to the bottom of your seat when he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

since this was a very public place that had quite a few movie-goers, you had to keep your gasps and moans to a minimum, praying that the movie would muffle the wet sounds of xavier fucking his fingers into you. the sensation of it all became too much to bear.

with your back arched against your seat, you release into xavier’s awaiting hand with a low hiss, earning a low grunt of approval from your hunter boyfriend when he removes his hand from your soaked panties. pulling your pants back up to your waist before returning his gaze back to the movie, acting as if he hadn’t committed something so sinful in such a short amount of time, leaving your head reeling from the aftermath of it all.

rafayel had invited you to join him in one of his showcases, displaying his artworks with pride while you stood by his side. as he made small talk with the other artists, you were allowed to explore the exhibit, wandering around a bit with your arms crossed over your chest.

while you admired his art, there was a spectacular piece that caught your eye, one that took up the entirety of the wall. you found yourself entranced, your feet taking you toward it as you found that your very breath had been taken away by its sheer beauty.

within the canvas was a painting of a mermaid dressed in a flowing white dress. a veil covers her ethereal expression, yet you were certain that she was beautiful beyond comprehension. surrounding her were the gentle waves of the ocean painted in various hues of pink and lavender with undertones of sapphire blue. your mouth goes dry when you look at the title of such a painting.

“a lemurian’s bride.”

envy was felt scorching down your throat, making the tip of your nails dig into the palm of your hands as they created crescent shaped marks against your skin. you knew it was asinine to be jealous of a mere painting, but you couldn’t help yourself-

for the woman that was painted so lovingly looked nothing like you.

and that made your connection with rafayel feel all the more bitter.

“there you are, cutie! i was looking everywhere for you!”

you visibly stiffen in response when rafayel wraps his arms around your front, your name sounding like a soft whine when rafayel cuddles his face within the side of your neck, “princess, what is it? what’s wrong?”

“care to explain who that woman is?” you end up snarling at him, shoving him aside by placing the palm of your hand against his slender chest. he frowns at you, eyes appearing confused before looking up to see his painting. a knowing smile paints his expression before morphing into a smirk, “ah, are you jealous, princess?”

“whatever.” you shove him aside, ready to leave his museum when rafayel actively stops you. taking advantage of his strength as he crushes you to his chest, “let go of me! why don’t you go to her and leave me alone!”

“you think she’s beautiful… right? well, i say you’re wrong. that woman is nothing more than a figment of my imagination that i conjured with a paintbrush. in fact, i can show you true beauty at this very moment…”

you were given little time to react when rafayel carries you toward a nearby wall, spreading your legs before kneeling in front of you. he hides himself within the skirt of your dress, pulling down your panties within seconds as your aching sex was revealed to him. the lemurian wasted no time when it came to pleasing you, head already surging forward when he placed his lips against your slick heat.

his grunts and hums were felt vibrating through you, and you grip at the top of his hair with your back arched against the wall.

yet the moment you felt his tongue curling inside of you, you lost all of your train of thought-

lost all sense of coherency as rafayel kept pleasuring you with his mouth and fingertips. you end up tossing your head back in response to the relentless pace he was setting. the way his fingers kept traveling deeper inside of you while his hot mouth drank up all that you had to offer-

it was impossible for you to stay mad at him-

and you would never know how that painting was a depiction of rafayel’s fated future with you, his one and only bride.

you were simply enjoying a beach day with your old friends, eating delicious barbecue while making small talk with everyone. you had invited your boyfriend to come along, yet he seemed dead set on remaining by your side, not even making an attempt to speak to everyone else.

feeling as though you were a little tipsy, you excused yourself from the party with caleb placing a protective hand over your shoulder. you hear your friends crying out to you to come back, yet you only managed to give them a weak smile and wave in response. blocking your friend’s view of you with his broad back, caleb takes you somewhere more secluded, leading you toward the tide pools while maintaining his protective hold on you.

“come on, you can rest over here to clear your head, pipsqueak.” with a nod, you brace yourself against one of the rocks, eyes taking in the puddles of seawater that surrounds you. feeling caleb’s comforting warmth from behind you, you smile and thank him for remaining by your side as you attempted to sober up.

“of course, babe. anytime…”

you felt your colonel’s powerful body looming over you. you thought that caleb only wanted to give you a comforting hug-

so imagine your surprise when he places the palm of his large hand against your abdomen, sliding down your body before stopping at the front of your jean shorts. your breathing hitches in response when he manages to unbutton them, sliding them down the length of your legs along with your panties.

“cay-“ his name was cut off the moment you felt his large hand cupping at your naked sex, making your heart lurch in response as you held on to the rock, trying to keep yourself stable when caleb inserts one of his thick fingers inside of your heat.

your mouth goes dry as a series of broken moans escapes, unable to hold them back when caleb begins pumping his fingers rapidly in and out of you. you felt as though you were slowly losing your mind, nearly falling into the damp sands when he adds another finger within your core, eliciting even more wanton moans from you with each scissoring motion felt within your heat.

“you don’t know how jealous i was, seeing your old guy friends leering at you in front of my face.” he gasps while whispering into your ear, inhaling the scent of your hair while continuing his rapid ministrations. “you’re mine… and i just had to remind you.”

with a final pinch felt against your swollen clit, you released yourself fully into his awaiting hands, soaking his skin while caleb bites down at your earlobe, whispering harshly against them,

“if those little boys think they even have a chance with you when i’m still around, then they’re in for a rude awakening, pipsqueak.”

end notes: i’m still in pain, but not in enough pain to deny myself of that vitamin d 🤤

pls ignore me, that was so stupid wiahahshahahahabdahxh currently unedited, but what else is new ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[gf2bellamy]

explanation — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: an officer won't stop talking to you content warnings: annoyed spencer, light flirting between reader and spencer a/n: had to write something for glasses reid also he looks so good in this gif ohymgod also this is short sorry

You forced a polite smile, though your patience was wearing thin as the police officer in front of you continued his overly enthusiastic explanation.

His words blended together, a relentless drone that made it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Still, you nodded along, trying not to seem rude despite the growing urge to check your watch or glance elsewhere. 

What you didn’t notice was Spencer standing just a few feet away. He had been watching the exchange, his hazel eyes flickering between the officer and you.

From his position near the evidence board, he clutched a file in one hand, the papers inside creased slightly from the pressure of his grip.

His other hand, balled into a tight fist, remained at his side. 

It wasn’t like him to eavesdrop—at least not intentionally—but something about the way the officer leaned just a little too close to you made it impossible for Spencer to look away.

His jaw tightened as he struggled to focus on the task at hand, attempting to study the crime scene photos tacked to the board in front of him. 

But his mind wasn’t on the case.

It was on you.

On the way you shifted uncomfortably, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded at the officer, and the way your lips curved into that soft, practiced smile that Spencer had seen you use before when you were trying to be polite but had no real interest in the conversation. 

He knew you well enough to read the subtle signs.  

He didn’t want to interrupt—he wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, the sound sharp and deliberate as he took a step closer. 

“I’ve already explained it to her,” he said flatly.

The monotone delivery caught you off guard, and you turned around quickly to face him, your eyes meeting his behind the familiar frames of his black glasses. 

Spencer wasn’t typically one to interrupt, especially not in such a dry way.

The officer, clearly thrown off by Spencer’s blunt interjection, shifted his weight uncomfortably and gave a half-hearted nod. “Oh, uh… right. Well, if you’ve got it covered, then…” His voice trailed off as he stepped back, offering an awkward smile before retreating. 

You raised an eyebrow at Spencer as the officer walked away, leaving the two of you alone near the evidence board. “What was that about?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. 

Spencer shrugged, the file still clutched tightly in his hand. “Nothing,” he replied, his gaze darting to the board as if suddenly engrossed in the timeline pinned there. 

But you weren’t convinced. Spencer Reid was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them—not when it came to how he felt.

You noticed the way his jaw tightened, the faint crease in his brow, and the tension in his posture. 

“Spencer,” you pressed, stepping closer.

He hesitated, his fingers flexing around the edges of the file before letting out a small sigh. Finally, he glanced at you, his expression softening just slightly. “I just didn’t think it was necessary for him to keep… explaining things to you,” he said, his words measured. "I already told you everything."

You frowned, trying to piece together the odd behavior. “I mean, he was being—” 

“He was wasting your time,” Spencer interrupted, his tone firmer now. His eyes flicked to yours, the frustration evident behind his glasses. “You already know what you’re doing. You don’t need someone like him hovering over you like that.” 

The realization hit you like a slow-moving train, the pieces falling into place.

Spencer wasn’t just irritated—he was jealous. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you watched him try to keep his expression neutral, though the faint pink tinge creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Spence,” you said softly, a teasing lilt in your voice, “were you jealous?” 

His eyes widened briefly, and he immediately shook his head. “Jealous? No, I… I wasn’t—” He faltered, his ears turning red as he fumbled for a convincing denial. 

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, crossing your arms as you leaned slightly toward him. “It’s okay, though. It’s kind of… sweet.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, realizing there was no way to argue without making it worse.

Instead, he sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

Your smile softened, and you reached out to gently touch his arm. “I’m glad you’re looking out for me. But you don’t have to worry—I’m not interested in anyone hovering over me. Unless, of course, it’s you.” 

That earned you a shy smile from Spencer, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with relief. 

And just like that, the two of you returned to the case—but not before you caught the subtle glimmer of satisfaction in Spencer’s eyes. 

[vivimura]

boyfriend!riki relieves your exam stress ♡

PAIRING ~ softdom!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ your boyfriend riki finds you in a state of utter exhaustion and helps take your mind off of things.

GENRE ~ fluff, smut, soft sex, oral (receiving).

WORD COUNT ~ 3.645k

ᯓ★ listen to this! requested.

you swore that the gods had something else against you that day.

with the coffee you'd so blissfully managed to spill all over your handwritten notes, the lunch you'd mustered up the energy to cook for once but never even got a chance to taste from a trip over stairs, a silly argument with your mom over a call, and to top it off, the lack of your boyfriend's love and comfort. it was all driving you to the brink of your limit.

at about eleven in the night, your room was dark, except for the warm lamp that illuminated your desk and cascaded light over the thick textbooks you were studying from. the noises of pen clicks and highlighter scratching was all that could be heard from hours on end, at least as far as you could keep track of.

however, your little bubble of misery burst for good when you heard the door of your room click open. the familiar and beloved face of your boyfriend, riki, peaked in.

you mustered up all the energy you had and flashed a small but warm smile. your eyes, once so bright and sparkly, were dull and adorned by eye bags. your appearance was let put together than usual, and you weren't proud of it, but you still managed to look just as beautiful to him. “oh? i thought you were busy with work. what're you doing here, riki?” you called out, swiveling in his direction from your chair.

the faint bags under your eyes didn't go unnoticed by him, but he didn't say anything. he further stepped into your room, closing the door behind him, and closing the distance between you two. he reached out a hand to caress your cheek, running a thumb over your eyebags, and gave you a tired, but affectionate smile. riki looked like he needed this just as much as you did. "free time." he shortly replied, too occupied in examining the state you were in.

with a grunt, you stood up from your chair and balanced on your legs numb from having sat down in one position for a prolonged period of time. you immediately wrap your arms around riki's torso, your grip firm as you dig your face into his chest and let some of your weight rest on him. you were incredibly grateful that he didn’t comment, let alone even judge on any aspect of your appearance.

“god, i've missed you..” you sighed, tightening your grip around him.

he snaked his arms around your waist, holding you tight against him, taking in the familiar and reassuring sensations that came with your presence; your scent, your warmth. "you look tired." he let out a sigh, one that sounded both exhausted and sad, burying his face in your hair. he knew you were stressed out, but he hated seeing you like this. it worried and hurt him. it pissed him off.

some of the weight you earlier felt weighing down your shoulders disappeared as soon as you felt riki embrace you. there was something so soothing, so comforting about the way his larger frame held you, but it felt short to relieve every bit of stress you had bubbling in your spine. 

you let out a soft chuckle, but it was only an attempt to soothe the worries you felt bubbling in his mind. “it’s not as bad as it looks, i swear.”

he exhaled through his nose and pulled away, just enough to look at you and gently cup your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him. riki's eyes were focused on you, observing and searching you, before his face twisted into a slight frown. "don't lie to me." he said in a soft voice, not stern, but the slight disappointment in his voice was evident.

the smile you’d mustered up for his sake dropped, a tiny, subconscious pout replacing it instead. you broke eye contact he’d forced openyou by cupping your cheeks, looking down blankly with unfocused eyes. “i’m fine.. just- stressed for finals, y’know?” you mumbled out, generously sugarcoating the conditions life was putting you through.

he sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. riki was well aware of your finals, he's heard you vent about your studies more times than he could count. that's normal stress. but the dark bags under your eyes, the way your words sounded. it was worse than that. "it's more than that, and you know it."

god.. why did he have to know you so well? an excuse to brush off his interrogation was right at the tip of your tongue. but the way he looked at you, his eyes so full of love and concern for you, you couldn’t bear to lie anymore. you leaned forward, hiding your face in his chest, not wanting to directly face him as you made your confession.

“look- it’s just… i had a fight with my mom. my insomnia’s acting up again. everytime i try to do something nice f’myself, it backfires. i’m just so.. frustrated.”

he felt his heart clench as you spoke, the way your voice wavered just a little at the end and the way you kept your face hidden against his chest. his arms wrapped around you tighter, as if he was almost trying to shield you from the things that upset you. riki moved a hand up and began gently stroking your hair, hoping the action could provide a tiny bit of comfort. "baby..." he sighed quietly to himself, and moved a hand under your chin, gently tilting your face up to look at him again.

“i’m so tired, riki.. i wanna get my mind off of things so badly. like a relief, for once.” you continued, your voice growing a bit shaky from the tears that had begun to well into your eyes. you were reluctant to make eye contact, knowing it’d only make you feel more emotional, but couldn’t resist doing so.

he could feel his heart break, seeing your eyes glossy and hearing how your voice trembled. riki didn't like seeing you this miserable. he didn't like the way your usual energetic sparkle was replaced with exhaustion. and he absolutely hated the fact that he couldn't make everything be okay for you. he let his thumb gently caress your cheek, as he continued stroking your hair with his other hand, before his mouth opened to speak. "i have an idea."

you nuzzled your face into the wide expanse of his warm hand, his comforting touch balming your worries little by little. his words brought a small but evident flicker of hope into your eyes. “what is it?” "come with me." he said simply, before moving his hands out from your hair, to your waist, and grabbing you, lifting you off the ground to be carried. riki didn't wait for a response and held you up against his body as he moved towards your bed.

you yelped at his sudden action, but held onto him, giving him a look of curiosity and maybe just a little anticipation. your tears had begun to subside already. he laid you down against the sheets of your bed, with him over you, but still between your legs, and placed his forearms on either side of your head, propping himself up.

he let his eyes trail over your face for a moment, taking in all the details he knew so dearly. those damn dark bags under your eyes, the weariness and tiredness on your face, your glossy eyes holding back unshed tears. "i'll help you take your mind off things." he whispered and leaned down, pressing his mouth against the side of your neck, giving you a small and gentle kiss to the skin there.

the look he gave you, the tone of his voice, his worshipping kisses were all the clues you needed to conclude what he was trying to do. you let out a shaky exhale, your head tilting up almost as a reflex to give him more access. his kisses made your heart squeeze in gratitude, anticipation, and maybe just a little guilt. “you... you don’t have to..."

"i want to." he mumbled against your skin, letting his lips linger on your neck for a moment. he moved to trail more kisses along your jawline, slowly making his way to your ear.

"let me take care of you."

you bit down on your lower lip, your chest heaving as a giveaway of your racing heart. you felt heat begin to pool in the pit of your stomach, hands forming fists of the sheets covering your bed beneath. you were stilled for a few seconds before mumbling in a voice barely above a whisper. “okay.”

the way you tensed up with your quiet response, the way he could feel your heart beat faster, the way he could see your chest rise and sink more rapidly- it all brought a small but content smile to his face. "don't hold back for me." he almost purred against your skin, as he planted more kisses on your neck, trailing more up and down the column of your throat, each one slowly growing more and more open-mouthed and hungry.

his words, paired with his soft ministrations were like a deadly spell. you were essentially hypnotized, your eyes fallen close, head tilted back into the pillow below your head, as if you were floating on a cloud.

everytime his lips found a spot on your skin more sensitive than another, you let out a soft gasp and whimper, one that was like a reward for riki. you hummed, grasping onto his hair lightly.

the gentle grasping at his hair only made riki work faster, trailing more urgent kisses along your neck and jawline, down your collarbone. he was trying to find all those spots he knew were sensitive, letting his tongue glide over your skin with each one in an attempt to tease you, to send sensations through your body. 

a small chuckle almost slipped past his lips in a satisfied response, each sound of a low whimper or gentle gasp giving him more motivation and drive. 

riki frowned at the interference and lack of accessibility your hoodie gave, not wasting time in reaching for the hem of it.

“off.” he muttered shortly, the corners of his lips twitching up when you immediately raised your hands up. he carefully pulled the hoodie along with the shirt you had on underneath in one motion and tossed the garments somewhere he was too focused on you to care about.

your skin felt like fire under his eyes trailing over the newly exposed skin of your bare upper body - the bare collarbones and throat he’d marked up, the soft skin of your stomach, your bra. he lout a soft groan of appreciation, ducking his head to resume his trail of kisses on the skin of your upper chest.

he continued this process for a bit, moving from one side to the other, down further onto the top of your chest, when he started to gently press his lips against your skin, moving ever so slightly closer to your breast. “you know..” he mumbled, between kisses, “i love you in anything..” he paused to give a gentle bite to the skin right above the start of your bra.

your breath hitched, back beginning to arch into his touch as he continued. “but my favorite look on you..” his voice grew huskier with each kiss and nip, “is when you’re wearing nothing but my hickeys.” with the last word, he moved his hand up to lightly brush his fingers over one of the clasps of your bra, giving a slight tug to the material.

you let out a shaky exhale to suppress a groan, holding onto his silky raven locks just a little tighter. you lift your weight up in assistance to rid yourself of the bra, letting out a soft exhale of relief when the cool air of your room hit your chest, the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach growing more intense by the second.

riki wasted no time in burying his face between your soft mounds, attacking one of your breasts with hot, wet kisses and gentle nips. he took your nipple into his mouth, eliciting a pretty gasp from you. he swirled his tongue around your bud, humming at the sensation of it hardening under his touch.

he switched to your neglected breast, repeating his actions with such consistent intensity and passion that had you moaning his name like a mantra in pleasure. you whimpered everytime his hair brushed by your bare skin, the sensation of it one like a feather. your stomach heaved from how raggedy your breathing had gotten thighs pressing together in undeniable arousal.

he continued leaving a trail of marks and pecks down your body, pausing occasionally to give special attention to certain areas. he stopped just above your naval, just over your belly button, only to press the flat of his tongue against the skin there. he looked up for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, still focused and hungry.

riki began to lower his body a little more between your legs, but stopped once he was hovering his head right over your waist. he lifted a hand to drag a finger over the edge of your pants, tugging on the material as he spoke in a low voice. "want these gone."

you bit your lower lip at the sight of how he was situated between your legs, your folds pulsating in desire to be stimulated by his touch. you lifted your hips as a silent gesture for him to undress you.

he moved to kneel, sitting back on his ankles for a moment, as he took in the sight of you, laying below him, completely at his mercy. he almost groaned just at that. he made quick work of the task, unbuttoning your pants and swiftly pulling them down, tossing them somewhere behind him. riki leaned back down, his hands immediately moving to your thighs.

you weren’t wearing the sexiest pair of underwear you owned, having assumed that such intimacies wouldn't go down that night. but, you were pleasantly surprised at how worked up riki seemed to get when he saw the thin pink cotton panties you’d worn, so wet from the crotch that they clung onto the outline of your pussy.

feeling conscious under his silent intense gaze, you began bringing your thighs together, but riki was quick to grab at your thighs and jerk them apart. the action was not too rough, but not soft enough for you to have the guts to repeat it.

he looked up at you from his position of being face-first with your panties, simply admiring your nearly bare form. he shifted closer, suddenly taking a hot, wet lick of your entrance from over your panties, tasting your slick of arousal.

you whimpered loudly at the sensation of it, your fingers once again holding onto riki’s hair tightly. you clenched around nothing in sheer need for stimulation as he continued kissing and licking your clothed pussy, his touch so intimate yet so teasing.

“please..” you mumbled out, your words a soft whine as your hips jerked into his face subconsciously, toes curling in from the lustful desires you tried containing.

he let out a short chuckle, the sound sending vibrations that you felt deep into your core. "mm?.. please what?" he mumbled against your folds, his tongue moving in a slow and torturous lick over the shape of your pussy, still only ever through the cotton covering it. it was like the taste of you was something he wanted to savor for as long as possible, instead of indulging the impatient need that his actions were causing himself as well.

“take it off..." you mumbled out between whimpers and pants, your heart pounding in your chest and hands itching to just take the last piece of cloth blocking his pleasure off yourself.

your needy voice had its desired effect, as riki took a moment to move back and hook two of his fingers under the elastic of your panties, pulling them down with a swift motion and tossing them in the same direction your pants had ended up in. he leaned back down, resuming the space he’d previously taken between your legs and looking at your naked, already leaking, pussy with hungry eyes.

you exhaled a small sigh at the feeling of your heat meeting the cool atmosphere of the room. your head tipped back, legs spread open so deliciously, like an invitation for a feast riki would devour.

and devour it he did. riki practically lunged forward, hooking his hands under your thighs to hold them apart. his hair trickled against your stomach the way he practically buried his face between your legs, his tongue lapping your bare, slick folds.

“riki..” you mewled out his name, hips jerking forward at how he suddenly began eating you out with such intensity. you gripped onto his hair, panting as your thighs instinctively bucked together, despite riki's hold on them.

he growled, his long hands finding your knees and hooking them over his shoulders as he continued sucking on your folds. he hummed in satisfaction at the uninterrupted access the position brought him, bringing one of his hands to slide his middle finger into your pussy, his tongue lapping around its outsides.

the intrusion had you clenching around him, your lower lip nearly bruised from how hard you were biting down on it. you gasped when riki slid in another finger, his tongue beginning to suck against your erect clit.

he gently thrust his middle and ring finger into you at a soft, but deep pace, his throat creating hums that shot pleasures of vibrations up your spine. the thick and long calloused fingers of his hand reached spots into you that seemed to show you utter heaven. the lewd squelching sound of his fingers penetrating your wet hole, paired with his hums and loud sucking had you rolling your eyes to the back of your skull.

your hips jerked forward, almost grinding your them against his face. you moaned at the feeling of a knot beginning to form in the pit of your stomach, legs trembling at the way he pleasured you so slow and soft, yet so incredibly sensuous. riki couldn't hide how worked up he himself had gotten from pleasuring you, given how he’d subtly began rolling his hips into the sheets below as an attempt to relieve the aching erection in his pants with some friction.

“riki.. fuck- i’m gonna..” you barely manage to let out a quiet warning before he suddenly pulled away, his naturally thick lips glistening with your juices, a dark look of lust mixed with love in his eyes. before you could question why he suddenly halted, the way he shifted off the bed and stood on the floor to frantically rid himself of his sweats and boxers was enough of an answer.

the knot in your stomach had subsided at the sudden loss of his stimulation, but you bit down on your lower lip in anticipation when at the sight of his cock springing out, his angry red tip decorated with a bead of precum bouncing off his muscular abdomen.

he wordlessly climbed up onto the bed, resuming hovering over you and aligned his erection with your pussy. with a groan, he slid himself into you, his hands finding yours and interlocking with it as he held them pinned on either side of your head.

you cried out a moan in utter pleasure, your hands squeezing his as you took his girthy length in.

“god, baby..” he grunted, digging his face into your chest as he began thrusting into you, his pace slow, but his proud length allowing his tip to penetrate deep enough to nudge your cervix and show you stars.

“oh, riki, it feels so good..” you whimpered out, head thrown back in pleasure at the way he fucked you so softly, almost lazily but so, so deep. you clenched around his length with every thrust, the trickle of his hair against your chest becoming a sensation you weirdly found pleasure out of.

“i got you, baby.. you’re doing so good for me..” he whispered sweetly, his own body feeling like it was on fire at the way your velvety walls closed in on his sensitive cock. riki lifted his head up from the crook of your neck to make eye contact, his face hovering right above yours as he whispered gruffly while simultaneously fucking you. “tell me you’re close..”

“i am..” you almost immediately responded, having approached your orgasm faster than usual due to the intense pleasure his tongue gave you previously. when riki let go of one of your hands and brought his free hand down to circle his fingers over your swollen clit, it was your final straw.

with the last cry of his name, you released your sweet nectar onto his shaft, the liquid forming rings around its base. your orgasm triggered his own, and with a final thrust, riki buried himself deep into you, shoots of his white seed coating your insides, all while holding eye contact.

he remained inside you for a few seconds as the two of you panted, cherishing the dopamine your orgasms had brought. he carefully slid his softening cock out of you, and closed the distance between your parted lips with his, capturing them into a tender kiss.

he brought his hands to hold your waist, his lips lapping against yours in a soft kiss you’d learn to revere for the rest of your life. he pulled away, smiling at how considerably relaxed, satisfied and even glowing if riki did say so himself you looked. ik this is kinda mid but last fic before exam hiatus (rahhh) reblog and comment!! 👉🏻👈🏻 🎀

[maiamore]

THREE STRIKES

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 2k

Summary: Joel fucks you in his truck.

Tags: road rage, cockwarming, orgasm denial, husband!joel, public sex, car sex, p in v, unprotected sex, use of the word daddy, grumpy!joel

A/N: swung this out in eight hours through pure adrenaline and proofreading with my homie MASTERLIST

If there was one thing you knew about Joel Miller, it was to never fuck with him when he was on the road.

It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se. Joel just had pretty low tolerance with shitty drivers, as evident by the dozens of times he’d changed his horn out in the past couple of months. You learned to sit pretty & let him grumble—being on your merry way as the passenger princess you were, humming along to whatever country station he flipped to.

“Left in the lane up ahead,” you cut in, interrupting Joel’s long-winded rant about the signages being too small. Which of course, his old man vision was probably more of the reason why, not the state's fault. Joel at the same time, refused to use a GPS, a stubborn stance that had already led to him missing an exit earlier. Considering the two of you were now running late to dinner to his younger brother,Tommy, and his wife’s place—you’d been on edge.

Joel glances at you, annoyance flickering across his face. “I know where I’m goin’, sweetheart.”

“Sure,” you replied, the sarcasm practically dripping from the single word.

“Joel!” Your arm whips directly in front of his face to point at the lane he was supposed to be in. He shoots you a sharp look in return, his palm pressing down on the base of the wheel, rotating it clockwise as he finally shifts over. You could tell, just from the tension in his jaw—that you’d hit strike one.

“I was about to,” he countered, his voice defensive.

“Yeah, didn’t seem like it.”

“My signal was on.”

“Oh, great, you announced your signalling intentions five hundred meters away from the lane. Can I please just put the GPS on?” you bit back, exasperated.

“We’ll get there. Quit fussin’.”

You’d slumped back into your seat, attempting to not let it affect you, Joel knew better though. He could tell you were ready to pop up with a “we need to turn here!”—despite your piss poor attempt at behaving for now.

His truck comes to a stop behind a Blue Toyota Yaris—with a slow rumble from the engine. Fingers drumming steadily against the steering wheel to fill the silence. Finally, he breaks the tension. “You plannin’ on sulkin’ all the way there?” 

“I’m not sulking.” You shot back.

Joel raises a brow, giving you a once-over. Gaze flicking to your thighs, clamped together and turned away from him. Well, that’ll do it. His lips twitched like he might’ve smirked. “Mmhm. Sure looks like it.” His voice a smooth drawl.

You turned your head just enough to shoot him a mocking look, trying not to let it show just how much the hum in his response caused a visceral reaction in what went on below. 

Joel’s jaw clenches at that, the faintest crease forming between his brows.

Strike two. 

The light turns green.

With a long, drawn out sigh—Joel eased his boot off the brake, released the clutch and wrapped a firm hand around the gear shift to nudge it into first. The truck rolled forward with its familiar low rumble. He continued driving without saying a word, his patience teetering on the edge with how he was now holding the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip.

You shift in your seat, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when the click of a tongue snaps your attention back up. “You gotta be shittin’ me.” He breathes out. Gesturing angrily at the Blue Yaris driving way below the speed limit, you couldn’t really fault Joel for this one. You lean backwards, fully prepared to hear the end of it. 

He behaves for a while, but after a few miles, his patience snaps. With a grunt, he slams on the horn and flashed his lights, the sound cutting through the air like a gunshot. 

You groaned internally at his obnoxious habit. Before you could get a word in, the Yaris brake-checks him, sending the both of you careening forward.

Your face lights up in pure and utter amusement. You let out an audible hah! Karma was kind, you supposed, for the Yaris at least. But not for you. Definitely not for you. By the time you turned to look at Joel—

He was already looking your way.

That was three strikes.

“Oh, that’s funny now is it?” He says, with no humour in his tone.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so obnoxious with your honking. Just because you’ve got old people hearing—”

Joel swerves, stopping on the shoulder of the road. You twist your body a little when you feel the lock of your seat belt snapping open with a dull click.

“Up.”

You blinked. “Up where? Onto the dashboard?” You mused at his audacity. His eyes twitch. With a sharp tug of your arm, he attempts to pry you over the console towards his side. “Ow!—Okay, okay!” You huffed, unsteadily sliding over, your ass hitting the honk in the process, sending the both of you jolting.

Joel’s hand tightens around your wrist to pull you snug onto his lap. “Christ, Joel, what the hell?” You tried, effectively shutting up when you felt his very hard erection pressed against you. Your eyes widen, looking at Joel who didn’t have an ounce of embarrassment on his expression.

Clearly, someone liked you being a brat.

“Nothin’ to say now, mouth?” Joel tugs you by the back of your waist, your palms steadying yourself against his shoulders. You bit down on your lips to withhold just how much you enjoyed this “punishment”. With the thin material of your skirt, you’d felt every-single-fucking-thing. And god did it feel good.

So much for putting me in my place. You thought. 

Your heart was already thumping with how the truck was still illegally parked, surely, he wouldn’t fuck you into obedience here now would he? And risk getting arrested? Goody-two-shoes Joel?

Your gaze trails down as Joel snaps his belt buckle off. Nerves frayed in both trepidation and exhilaration. He brings his hand up to his mouth to wet his fingertips before slipping them beneath your skirt. 

You shudder at the motion, feeling his knuckles graze the sensitive skin, legs parting where it was tucked underneath your thighs. A thumb pushes the flimsy fabric of your thong aside, his knuckles grazing your clit. You jumped at the sensation. He gathers the slick to rub against the entrance of your folds before sinking two fingers into you in a go. You groan, tipping your head back at how full you already feel. 

“Fuck the lube, I guess.” He murmurs more so to himself. Lips quirked into a lop-sided grin as he curls his fingers up steadily into your slick pussy. Thrusting in and out. Iiiiin and out. You ground your hips impatiently to take his fingers deeper. Which surprisingly—he lets you. Normally you’d be met with a stern warning to stay still. 

He wasn’t that cruel to you, yet. A rough palm comes up to knead your tits over the pretty blue sundress you had on. You were on the precipice from coming with the adrenaline alone.

But just as you tightened around his fingers, your pussy clenches around….nothing. Your half lidded gaze meets Joel in confusion when he pulls his fingers out. You feel two heavy palms lift your hips, which you oblige without complaint.

“Upsy-daisy.” He grunts, stuffing you to the brim with his cock. The both of you let out a groan in unison. Your hand slams up onto the headrest, your pussy greedily swallowing all eight inches of him up. 

You attempt to plant your palms back onto his knees to ride Joel’s cock when a sturdy palm on your waist stops you, tugging your back towards his chest. You look back at Joel, a brow furrowed.

The truck then whirrrs back to life.

What the fuck.

What the fuck?

Your lips parted in disbelief, you feel the truck swerve back onto the road, the slight jump making his cock nudge deeper into you. A pitiful moan left you. “A-Are you kidding me? You’re driving like this? We’re gonna crash!” You protested. 

“We won’t if you keep your head down.” He emphasizes the down with a hand tugging the back of your neck till’ your cheeks smushed against his shoulders—eyes steadily welling up in tears from the growing ache.

“Wanna be my GPS so badly dontcha’, sugar?” He taunts,“go ‘head. Tell daddy how many miles he has left.”

You grimaced at his tone. You should’ve known punishment wasn’t going to taste sweet. 

Every goddamned dip in the road had you biting back a moan. Weakly, you glanced outside the car windows. “T-Two.” You manage. Eyes fluttered shut with hot tears staining Joel’s flannel. 

Your cunt tightens around Joel’s cock involuntarily. You lift your hips an inch to give yourself the bare minimum stimulation, gasping softly at every single jerk of the truck. 

“You best quit doin’ that if you want daddy to fuck you, baby.” He warns. 

You hiccup, forehead rubbing against Joel’s shoulders pitifully. “Joel…” You whined against his chest. 

“I know, sweetheart. How else are you gonna learn, huh? Testin’ me all damn—...“ He heaves, rocking you upwards until you come slamming down back onto his cock. “—day.” Grunting at the way your pussy grips around him like vice. You let out a stifled cry against his shoulder.

Thighs quivering now at the lack of proper attention to your cunt. 

“I-I’m sorry—…can’t—…Joel.” You begged, lifting your head up to trace the curve of your nose up the scuff of his jaw. 

Joel wasn’t a man of steel for sure, just feeling the wetness of his wife’s tears against his chest was enough for him to give in and fuck her like the pretty little slut she was for him. 

He clenches his jaw. Letting you pepper needy kisses up his neck. “Please…please please—…” 

“Need him, baby.”

The car nearly comes into a screeching halt when Joel stops in front of Tommy’s garage. 

You feel a firm tug at the back of your head. Cheeks flushed visibly. “Poor baby, you need him now do you?” He mutters softly. Joel gazes at you. Your pretty, tear stricken face making his cock throb even harder than he knew possible. 

“Even after you were such a fuckin’ brat?” You shake your head, not daring to move your hips in the slightest, in fear he might deny you. You didn’t think you could endure it any longer. 

“I’m sorry—…M’sorry.” You babbled, not even sure what exactly you were begging for anymore. You just needed something, anything to ease the ache.

With a content smirk, Joel’s hands run down your back in a soothing effort. 

“Keep quiet f’me?” He whispers. 

Your head tips back with a groan when Joel’s cock slams hard in you once, and again. 

And again. And again. 

He steadies your hips with a firm grip, snapping his hips upwards to meet the effort you took to grind your hips back down. Joel leans his head back against the seat. “Shit.” He whispers. 

It was bad enough he held back cumming into your tight little pussy for twenty minutes—but the way you were milking him now had him groaning in pain just to make sure you came before he did. 

“Sweet girl.” He coos. A rough palm sliding upwards to hold your jaw firm, facing him. “C’mon. Can’t come without you.” 

His thumb massages steadily against your clit, giving you the nudge you needed. Your palms shift to grip around his thighs. Arching your back in a way you didn’t know you even could before your entire body tenses. It doesn’t take long after for Joel to grunt with a heaving effort, flooding your pussy with his thick spend. He slides his hand down your throat, cupping around your waist to hold you against him.

The both of you remained there, panting heavily in the wake of what was possibly the best orgasms you’d had since your honeymoon. 

The haze of lust was short lived when the loud sound of Tommy’s garage door opening caught your attention. 

Joel laughs and you do too, he leans in to kiss the valley between your breasts up to your collarbone. You were officially a whole hour and a half late. 

“Think they’ll ever invite us again?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

[stylesispunk]

'The other side of the door'

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is giving you the silent treatment until you come back home hurt, and he wasn't there.

w.c: idk.

warnings: angst, miscommunication, mentions of a broken arm, fluff.

a/n: this is me after having an outburst about not writing again. If this flops I will have another one and I'll take a break forever. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

It was 2 a.m., and you were sobbing on the cold bathroom floor like a little girl, asking for her mother to kiss the tears away. The pain on your now broken arm was unbearable, but the stillness in your heart was worse, enveloped in a shirt that belonged to your brother-in-law instead of your boyfriend because he didn’t pick up the phone after the officers called him.

Instead, Tommy picked you up, rushing to you the moment he saw you by the ambulance with a sling around your left side and a bandage on your forehead.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? Where is Joel?” He said something, touching your face for some sort of answer, but you stopped listening to him after Joel’s name was mentioned.

“I don’t know where Joel is.” You said it monotonously.

Tommy's face paled as he realized the gravity of the situation. "It's going to be alright; we'll find him," he said, though his voice trembled with uncertainty.

“He didn’t pick up the phone,” you said again. “He hasn’t talked to me in a week, Tommy.”

“My brother can be grumpy sometimes; you know him,” he said, trying to find a way to make you smile, but you felt just ashamed.

You didn’t mean to be hit by a car on the on the way home, but everything happened so fast, and your mind was everywhere but focused on the road ahead of you.

“What if I call him?” he offered.

“He turned off the phone after my call,” you said, standing up slowly with the help of the paramedic.

Tommy helped you into the backseat of his truck, making sure you were secure before he slid into the driver’s seat. The drive to your house was quiet, save for your occasional wince of pain and Tommy’s sighs of worry. He kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror, his concern evident.

Once home, Tommy guided you inside, supporting your weight gently. He settled you on the couch and handed you a glass of water. "You need to rest," he said softly. "I’m sure you both will figure this out in the morning."

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. The pain in your arm was a constant reminder of the accident, but the ache in your heart was a dull, persistent throb. You clutched Joel’s shirt tighter around you, its familiar scent providing a small comfort.

“Do you want me to stay here and beat him once he arrives?” He asked jokingly, making you smile for a mere second.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you said, managing a weak smile despite the situation. “But thank you, Tommy.”

He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Joel can be stubborn, but he loves you. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but sleep was still a distant hope.

Tommy stayed with you for a little while longer, making sure you were comfortable. He adjusted the pillows around you and tucked the blanket more securely. "You should get some sleep," he said gently. "I'll stay until you do."

You nodded, too tired to argue, but you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. You tried to focus on the comforting presence of Tommy, the warmth of Joel's shirt, and the hope that things would be better in the morning.

Eventually, Tommy rose from the couch. "I'm going to head out now. You can call me if you need anything, okay?"

You managed a small nod. "Thanks, Tommy. I really appreciate it."

He gave you a reassuring smile, though the worry never left his eyes. "Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning." He squeezed your shoulder gently before heading to the door.

You listened to the sound of the door closing and the silence that followed. The house felt impossibly quiet and empty. The weight of the evening pressed down on you, and tears welled up in your eyes again.

There was Joel’s shirt on the couch, and you clutched it tighter with your left arm, breathing in the faint scent of him. The memories of the accident replayed in your mind—the screeching tires, the impact, the confusion. But what hurt the most was Joel’s absence, his phone turned off, and the uncertainty of where he was or why he hadn’t answered.

You stood up, walking upstairs towards your and Joel’s bedroom, but instead of lying on the bed, you walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, and slid down, sitting on the floor. Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

Joel wasn't home. Now that you needed him, he was out somewhere, still avoiding you.

You sat on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the door, and let the tears flow freely. The pain in your arm was nothing compared to the ache in your heart. You felt abandoned, hurt, and utterly alone.

As the minutes passed, you lost track of time, consumed by the overwhelming sadness. The sound of your sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you didn’t hear the faint sound of a key turning in the front door or the footsteps on the stairs.

Joel moved through the house with a growing sense of urgency, the emptiness and silence amplifying his fear. It wasn't until he stepped inside the bedroom that he heard you wiping from the bedroom.

Gently, he opened the door and saw you sitting on the cold floor, clutching to your own arm and sobbing uncontrollably. The sight broke his heart, and he immediately kneeled beside you, his presence startling you from your sorrow.

"What the hell happened?" he asked softly, ignoring your plea. He didn’t understand why you were this hurt when, in the morning, you were perfectly fine.

"Go." You whispered, ashamed of yourself for being hurt and crying.

"Now you want to talk?" you asked, standing up carefully and using the wall for support.

Joel reached out to steady you, his touch gentle but firm. "Please, just tell me what happened," he said, his voice filled with concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I was hit by a car on my way home. It happened so fast, and I was so scared. The officers called you, but you didn't answer. Tommy came instead."

Joel's face paled, his eyes widening with shock and guilt. "I had no idea. My phone died, and I was out of town.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt and anger you felt couldn’t be ignored. "You haven't talked to me in a week, Joel. I needed you, and you weren't there."

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you because of it. Please, let me make it right."

You looked at him, and the regret was evident on his face. It mirrored your own feelings, and slowly, the anger began to melt away, replaced by a longing for things to be better. "I just needed you," you repeated, your voice trembling.

Joel took a step closer, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm here now. I promise, I’ll never let you down again.”

"You didn't seem to care about me for the last week, Joel."

"Lo—"

"Don't you dare call me that now. I'm mad at you," you interrupted, your eyes flashing with anger.

Joel looked stricken, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words. "I know I messed up. I know I've been distant, and I'm so sorry. But please believe me, I do care about you more than anything."

You took a step back, needing space to think and process everything. "If you care so much, why did you ignore me? Why did you shut me out over missing dinner?"

His heart broke at the sight of you, staring away from him with dried tears on your cheeks. He didn't have words left to make this better, nor a way to ask for forgiveness or soothe your heart after breaking it without real intention behind it.

He was angry at you for missing the dinner, and he wanted to get it back at you.

But this? This wasn't what he wanted.

"I can't say how sorry I am," Joel continued, his voice cracking.

"Well, don't say it then," you snapped back.

"Love—"

“No! I'm tired, and everything hurts. My arm is broken, and I feel so humiliated right now. I just want to go to sleep,” you cried out, the words pouring out in a torrent of emotion.

"Okay, let me help you,” he said, reaching out to touch your shoulder, but you stepped back from him.

"No, everything you have done for the past week makes me cry," you said, the weight of your words hanging in the air. "You make me cry," you sobbed into your hand, trying to sweep the tears away.

Lifting your gaze, you looked at Joel, who seemed to be conflicted. His brown eyes, now glassy with unshed tears, almost made you give in.

"Could you please sleep in the guest room tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's face fell, but he nodded slowly, understanding the need for space. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me."

You nodded, too drained to respond further. Joel hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the room, the weight of his footsteps heavy on the floor. As he reached the bedroom, he turned towards you.

“Do you want to know why I was so mad at you for missing that dinner?” He asked, his voice low and filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.

You looked at him, the exhaustion and pain making it hard to process everything, but you nodded slightly, curious despite yourself.

Joel took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “It wasn’t just about the dinner. It was because I had planned to ask you to marry me that night.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. You stared at him, the weight of his confession taking a moment to sink in. You felt your heart beating so fast.

“Joel,” you started, your voice trembling. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And that’s on me. I should have talked to you instead of shutting you out. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry for everything.”

The revelation left you feeling even more conflicted. The pain of the past week, the accident, and now this. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, feeling the tears welling up again.

Joel took a step back, giving you space, but not without planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, just next to the bandage. “Goodnight,” he said gently, before turning and walking to the guest room.

After that, you lay down, clutching Joel's pillow tightly against your chest, the familiar scent providing a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. As you closed your eyes, the weight of the day slowly began to lift.

The night dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. You tossed and turned in bed, unable to find comfort. The weight of Joel's confession and the emotional turmoil of the past week kept you from sleeping peacefully. The silence of the house was deafening, and the pain in your arm felt almost secondary to the ache in your heart.

Around 3 a.m., unable to bear the loneliness any longer, you decided to go to the guest room. Moving slowly and carefully, you made your way down the hallway, each step mindful of your broken arm. The pain was a constant reminder of the day’s events, but the burning desire to be near Joel overpowered it.

You opened the guest room door quietly, the creak of the hinges making you wince slightly. Joel was lying on the bed, his back turned to you. You carefully slipped into the room, trying not to disturb him too much. The guest bed was slightly too small, but you managed to settle in beside him, positioning yourself so as not to jostle your arm too much.

Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, his gaze shifting to you. Confusion and surprise crossed his face as he saw you lying next to him. He sat up, pushing himself on one elbow, his brow furrowed in concern.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You shifted slightly to face him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t sleep... I needed to be close to you.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he reached out carefully, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Are you okay? Does your arm hurt?”

“It hurts,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I just needed to be near you, to feel like everything might be okay.”

Joel nodded, understanding the depth of your need. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said again, though his tone was gentler this time. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, just let me be here for you.”

You reached out and took his hand, feeling curiosity creeping up. “About the proposal,” you began. “Are you planning to ask me soon?”

Joel's eyes softened, and he looked at you with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. “I was planning to ask you that night,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with regret. “But now I don’t feel like I deserve you.”

You searched his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

Joel took a deep breath, his expression serious yet tender. “Now, I want to make sure we’re in a good place before I ask you. I want it to be right, and I don’t want to rush into it just to fix things. But I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

You smiled softly in the darkness, your heart swelling with emotion. “I would love for you to ask me now,” you whispered.

Joel chuckled softly, a sound that was warm and comforting in the quiet of the night. “Even with the broken arm?” he asked, his voice light with affection.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Even with the broken arm, I know we have things to work through, but I’d still say yes.”

Joel’s laughter was gentle, filled with relief and affection. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Alright, then. I promise that when the time is right, I’ll ask you properly. For now, let’s focus on getting better and being here for each other.”

You nestled closer to him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t need a fancy proposal in a fancy restaurant, Joel. I just want you,” you said softly.

Joel’s expression softened even more, his hand gently stroking your hair. “And you have me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “No matter what, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together, and when the time is right, we’ll take the next step together too.”

You let out a small, playful sigh. “Okay, if there isn’t a ring on my breakfast tomorrow, I’ll be mad,” you joked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Joel laughed softly, the sound a comforting balm to your troubled heart. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone light but warm.

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and sincere. “So, would you like to marry me?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a response.

The question hung in the air, tender and unexpected. You looked at him, your heart swelling with emotion. The warmth and love you felt in that moment made it clear that you were ready to take that next step.

With a smile that spoke of both relief and joy, you nodded. “Yes, Joel. I would love to marry you.”

Joel’s face lit up with a mixture of happiness and relief. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness to avoid hurting your broken arm. “I’m so glad,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll make it work, I promise.”

You snuggled closer to him, the sense of security and love filling you with a peaceful calm. As you closed your eyes, the laughter and playful banter gave way to a hopeful, contented sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his presence and the promise of a future together.

[curseofaphrodite]

prisons & prophets

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!prophet!reader

Oracles were only admired if they were royalty. For a merchant's daughter like you, prophetic claims came with marks of a heretic and "burn at the stake" threats.

You coughed up dust when you were pushed onto the stone floor. There was silence around you, one that seemed more curious than haughty.

You carefully looked up to see Queen Rhaenyra, who looked as if you were a dead lion that just fell from the sky.

"What is the meaning of this?" There was fury and familiarity behind those words, and you groaned as you registered Jacaerys Velaryon in the room. He had his eyes trained on the guards and was intentionally ignoring yours.

Great.

"She's a witch!" The first guard yelled, sounding like he had a personal vendetta against you. It might had something to do with how you kicked his balls earlier to try to be freed from him, but you weren't sure.

Daemon Targaryen laughed. The sound made you look around the room properly. Daemon and Rhaenys were seated opposite each other, both looking more intimidating than the other. There were at least five guards around the room. But perhaps the most intimidating of them all was Rhaenyra herself, who looked fierce and gentle all at once. She gave off a godlike aura, which had you half tongue-tied. Jace stood a few paces in front of her.

"A witch?" She asked, almost exhausted. "How is she a witch?"

"She's from Driftmark—" a second guard said, sounding more civil than the last.

"That explains it," Darmon interrupted, smirking at Rhaenys. The latter rolled her eyes.

"Daughter of a merchant who migrated from Westeros three years ago. Her stepmother wrote to us saying there is a witch in her family, and presented us with enough information that we had no choice but to act."

"I'm not a witch," you sneered. The first guard kicked you down to the floor.

"Silence!" He yelled; and you felt rage and humiliation rising tenfold.

When you could look up again, everyone was staring at Jace. He had his sword out, pointed directly at the chin of the guard. Everyone was appalled. Everyone except Daemon, who looked proud.

"You will not treat a lady with disrespect in Queen's court ever again, or you'll be dismissed," he said plainly.

The guard seemed to calm down considerably. "Yes, my prince."

The prince in question did not look satisfied, but he put away his sword. It went without saying that he still hasn't spared a glance towards you.

"What's this information that convinced you she was a witch?" Rhaenyra asked, skeptical.

As the third guard brought your scrolls forward, you knew you were doomed.

"My stepmother just wanted to ask the palace for money in my exchange!" You cried out. "I'm not a witch!"

No one seemed to have heard your protests. The guard gave the scrolls to Rhaenyra, who took some and gave the rest to her husband. Daemon opened them, his interest evident.

"These are just drawings," Rhaenyra turned the paper upside down, as if they'd make more sense that way. Jace looked as if he wanted to spare a glance, but he hesitated and stood his ground.

"They're her predictions," the first guard answered, almost hissing. "It speaks of many things... including Lucerys Velaryon's death." Rhaenyra paled at the words. You knew the wound about her son was still fresh, and you instantly felt sorry for her. "If she had a hand in his death—"

"I didn't."

"Then it was a concern to not chain her," he finished, triumphant. "Should I bring her to the dungeons, Your Highness?"

Rhaenyra thought for a while before answering. "This seems like not enough proof to force upon a conviction on someone. These scrolls could mean anything—"

"Apologies, Your Grace, this needs immediate attention." Maester Gerardys burst through the doors with a message in his hands. He ignored you, the guards, the scrolls — as if none of it was remotely comparable to what he was going to say.

"Jaehaeyrs Targaryen is dead."

Silence filled the room once again. You felt like you were invading a moment you shouldn't be in. But if Maester saw you, he didn't think you enough of importance so he went on.

"Decapitated... They think you ordered them to do it! That's the news spreading through the streets anyway."

"Me?" Rhaenyra looked surprised at the implication.

"Two," Daemon spoke up, his face buried in the scrolls. Your scrolls. Everyone stared at him.

"What?"

"There are two sketches of funeral pyres. Both look small enough to be children's." Daemon met your eyes. "One has the Velaryon crest, and one has the Targaryen crest."

You closed your eyes, sighing.

--

Even though the dungeon was dark and uncomfortable, you fell asleep the moment dusk arrived.

You weren't even surprised when you dreamt of him; A vegetable stall, and a boy.

A teen with dark hair and brown eyes, seemingly dressed down from the rest of the royals. Even then, his fabric was finer than anything you've ever seen. If disguise was what he was going for, he hadn't done it right.

"Would you like some apples?" you asked on behalf of your father, who was sleeping in for the day. Who could blame him? You were tired in the scorching heat, and it hadn't even been three hours since you started.

"Uhm, yes please. How much for them?"

You named your price and he frowned.

"Am I supposed to bargain?" He asked, blinking.

This earned a laugh. "Don't your servants usually do the shopping?"

There was a pause and he paled under your daring gaze. "How did you-"

"You're wearing a Targaryen ring."

"Who's to say it's not a stolen relic? Or fake?"

"If it was stolen, you wouldn't parade it around in daylight."

"I would if it meant pretty girls mistaking me for the Prince."

"—and if it's fake," you continued, ignoring his comment. Men flirting was as common as fruits rotting. It often had nothing to do with who they were talking with, and more about getting abed. "The guards confiscate any fake things made in the name of the Crown."

"Fine, you caught me," he sighed, taking the ring off and dropping it inside his clothes. "There. I'm off Prince duty now."

"Jacaerys!" A guard with long, dark hair and a matching beard seemed relieved at the sight of the Prince. The latter groaned. You were curious about why he wasn't addressed with formalities. You hadn't guessed there would be friendships between the royals and those who served them. "What have I told you about running off?"

"I thought my younger brother could use a one-on-one with you. I've already mastered my swordsmanship."

"Hardly!" The guard scoffed, then noticed you. "Forgive us miss, we've a long way off the castle so you'll excuse us now."

You were reeling from how polite they both sounded. You nodded curtly. The guard might as well have dragged the Prince by his arms.

"I'll come for the apples another time!" Jacerys yelled behind his shoulders.

And he did.

Again and again.

He soon confided in you that the guard gave him and his brother private lessons in an abandoned ground outside the town, and that it was the reason for his frequent visits. The guard soon warmed up to you too, and he was positively in love with the grapes you sold. He told you his name was Ser Harwin Strong. Jace said others called him Breakbones. You didn't know why because the man had the gentlest eyes.

Then one day, both of them just stopped coming.

No explanation, nothing. It was like they never existed.

---------------------------------------

"Wake up, the Queen wants to see you." The keepsman said, nudging your shoulders. You scrambled to your feet, eyes blinded by the fire lamps lit all around.

Before you could so much as adjust your hair, Rhaenyra briskly walked in. She nodded her head and the guards left the room, closing the wooden door behind them.

"Good wishes, Your Grace." You wanted to look down to the floor, but you couldn't keep your eyes off her. She was wearing black robes with red stones that carved into an intricate design, which looked suspiciously like a dragon tail. She sat down on the makeshift bed, her fingers intertwined.

"You can be honest with me."

You blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I wouldn't hang you or — burn you in a stake," she said firmly. "You can tell me the truth, any and all of it."

"You believe in magic?" you were bewildered.

"In a kingdom ruled by dragons, magic isn't far off the table."

"I'm not a witch," you said, almost stumbling over your words. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not — I don't know what I am. Someone... something is talking through me. It does the sketches, not me. I'm a spectator to whatever I'm drawing."

Rhaenyra looked like she wanted to interrupt when you started sounding more panicked. But you paid her no heed.

"I say it's nonsense all the time. True, I predicted the storm two summers ago but how was I to know a vision of a tree in the middle of the ocean had any impact on what went above it? Isn't that just pure idiotic?"

"Y/N—"

"A vision once told me I would get married to a red boar, for fuck's sake!"

"Red boar?"

"Another time I saw a goose looking in a mirror and then killing itself. Don't know what that means either, do I?!"

The Queen reached for your hand, bringing you back from the evergrowing spiral inside your head. You realized you were gasping for air.

"You don't have to have all the answers," she said consolingly. "It wasn't fair of me to ask that much."

You nodded, calming down. "Thank you."

She stood up. "I'll make sure you're given dinner after your next visitor."

"Next?"

"How do you know him, I wonder?" she met your eyes questioningly. "My son?"

"I don't," you replied, just as fast. She didn't look one bit convinced but nodded anyway. Then she left without another word.

Jacaerys came in right as she left. He was wearing a different set of robes, but the vest looked the same. His hair had gotten even messier, which you didn't think was possible. Suddenly, you were aware of what you wore. All you had was your white nightgown, which you were still wearing when you had been forced out of bed.

"I want you to be one of the council advisors," he stated, all business-like.

"Uhm, what?"

"You're a prophet," he sat down where Rhaenyra did, though he looked more uncomfortable about it. "You're an asset."

You snorted. It was very much like a royal family to say something like that. "I'd disagree, Your Grace."

"You don't have to do the titles." Then he noted how you looked mad. He sighed. "I'm sor-"

"I'm sorry about your brother," you interjected, and sadness filled his face. But he ignored your comment and looked at his hands instead. He still had the Targaryen ring, along with a few other new ones. You frowned at one of them in particular, but he spoke before you look longer at it.

"Ser Harwin Strong was my father."

So much about the sentence had you in surprise, but only one mattered above all others.

"Was?"

"He died two days after the last time I visited you," he nodded. "Which is also why I never came again. Foul play was suspected in his death, but never confirmed. They found a new guard for me, one who trained me inside the palace walls."

"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say.

"I missed you everyday, if that counts."

You smiled. "It does."

"And that skill of yours? Seeing future? Do not push it down." His voice was firm. "Control it. No matter what you think, it's a power. And whoever gave you that power wouldn't have given it to you if they thought you couldn't handle it."

Now you really didn't know what to say.

"I'll have you transferred to a room. A nice one with a view out to the sea." He promised, standing up. "That is, if you agree to my offer to be an advisor."

"And my stepmother?"

"She's banished from the castle, of course. Not a coin given, even though what she gave us is invaluable. She just didn't know it."

"Oh, please." You laughed.

"I hope I'll see you soon, Y/N," Jace said wholeheartedly, noting how his visit was coming to an end. As he stepped out of the dungeon, you were still thinking about his words.

And also his ring, specifically the one that had a tusked animal carved on it, entirely out of pure ruby.

In other words, a red boar.

THE END

-----------

some notes

Ser Harwin dies wayyy earlier but I tweaked the timeline to be aligned here.

the goose killing its reflection prophecy was reference to Halaena's drawings.

which speaks about Erryk and Arwyn's deaths. Goose is their crest.

I'm not sure if I should continue this story 'cause it holds up good on its own as a oneshot! But if you'd like, you can drop ideas for the continuance of this fic or other new jace fics @ my asks!

ty for reading and here's my coffee page if you want to support me :)

[poguehearted77]

Lights, Camera, Action!

Summary-> It's your first day on set and your nerves are through the roof but the cast makes you feel at home. You practice your lines, but the sparks between you and Drew are unscripted.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

You're jet-lagged, but your body has no idea. Too distracted from the abundance of nerves pumping through your veins as you walked around the enormous film lot toward the set.

You stand on the edge of the bustling Moroccan set, heart pounding as you clutch your sides. The scarf draped over your head feels both like a costume and a shield, helping you blend into the character you’re about to bring to life. Even with the months of preparation and the script readings under your belt, this moment feels surreal.

Everyone hustled across the set with purpose, knowing exactly what their job was and how to do it. You had only a fraction of that confidence as you were approached by a familiar face, one of the directors, Josh Pate.

"I can sense your anxiety from a mile away." He teases and it pulls a smile and a small breath of relief that he was friendly. With a comforting hand on your shoulders, "Take a deep breath, go grab a muffin from craft, have some water and I'll see you back here for your scene in 20, alright? I don't need any more faintings on the clock."

Once the words process, he's already gone. Fainting?? More??? With dazed eyes, your eyes scan the environment, dozens of people dressed just like you. Some sitting on the sidelines while others got into place on set. You'd even spotted Madelyn off to the side, a make-up artist lightly padding her face to protect it from the lighting as she prepared for her scene.

You took Josh's suggestion seriously, and promptly, or at least you tried to. You had no idea where to find crafts services or even if you'd be able to find your way back. "Craft Services is the first door on your left." Your head whips around with a face of slight terror in your eyes at the mind-reader from behind you. It's JD.

"How did you know?" It's the first thing you say, slight amusement and a hint of awe evident in your voice. He shrugs, "You were either looking for craft or the bathroom. It was a 50/50 shot, to be honest." He laughs and it calms your nerves a little. After a little while and a good conversation with JD, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

It became apparent you didn't have much time left. Quickly you end the conversation and head inside the room he'd directed you to. The studio was warm, credit to the Morrocan heat that surrounded you on the outside.

"Cups, cups, cups.." You mutter to no one in particular as you desperately scan for the item you need. "Here you go," A big hand is outstretched in front of you with a new cup dwarfed in its palm.

Your eyes followed up the length of the arm until they met those famous ocean-blue eyes that owned your TikTok feed for months last fall. Drew. He has the infamous buzz and soft smile as he looks down at you.

"Thank you," It's a simple response but it's the best you can do in a situation like this. Turning away from him, you fill your cup and finish its contents in nearly one sip before tossing it and rushing back to set not wanting to be late.

You rush back to set, still feeling the phantom warmth of Drew’s presence. For a moment, you wonder if this strange mix of tension and excitement is something all new actors feel or if it’s just you. The scarf draped over your head has now become a makeshift security blanket, as much for your nerves as for your character.

Josh greets you with a reassuring thumbs-up as you step into position, the antique shop set sprawling around you with meticulous detail. Dusty shelves lined with ornate trinkets, cracked pottery, and rusted brass figurines fill the space, dimly lit to convey the musty atmosphere of a forgotten bazaar. The air smells faintly of incense, which only adds to the immersion.

As the Pogues enter the set, Madelyn offers you a friendly wink, her playful energy making the tension in your shoulders ease. You remember bumping into her at one of your meetings with the writers. She's as pure as her character and it was relieving to see a friendly face on set.

Chase gives you a nod of encouragement, while Jonathan seems almost shocked to see you, probably since you'd never mentioned who you would be playing. He sends you a motion of acknowledgement anyway and you smile back.

The cameras start rolling, and suddenly, you are no longer you. As though it were a chemical reaction to the words 'Action', your brain switches to the character you've studied for months in anticipation. No longer Y/n, now Piper.

You busy yourself behind the counter. Attending to the tasks that depend on you as the owner of your antique shop. Your focus is set on the vase in your hands as you sweep over its rim with a cloth.

The bell of the shop chimes as six foreigners enter the shop, standing in a crowd with some of the most grim expressions you'd ever seen. "Vases on the left, woodwork on the right. Let me know if you have any questions." The phrase sounds ingenuine as it has only been repeated every day for the last three years.

"We're not here for some fucking pottery-" Rafe claps his hands down on the counter, you don't react. Sarah corrects him, "Rafe." You look back to the bunch, now standing at your full height,

They were filthy, covered in sand, dirt, and essentially any other grime that could find them. "We need supplies." Sarah says and you shrug, "What did you have in mind? Glasses? Lamps? Clocks?" The group lets out a frustrated set of sounds.

Pope clears his throat, "We need weapons, and we were told to come find you... the pied piper." You tug down the fabric that'd been covering your face to the bridge of your nose. Unveiling the full length of the scar that begins in the center of your forehead, runs down over your left eye and reaches your cheek.

John B whispers, "Just like he said," You make him speak up, "Just like who said. Who sent you?" He steps closer, "Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta. He said you would be able to help us." Your expression elicits a sign of understanding but quickly returns to disinterest.

"I don't help foreigners." The explosive one outbursts again, "You sound just like we do, clearly you're not from here either, so stop shitting us and give us the guns." Those cobalt orbs penetrate the window of your soul but only bring out the sinister grin on Piper's face. "Fine," Swiftly reaching behind your back, revealing the weapon they so desperately wanted, you hold them at gunpoint.

"-And Cut!" You place the gun down on the counter and Drew approaches the counter once again. "That was really good, I even got caught up in it." He places a hand on his chest to add sincerity.

"Thank you so much. I was really nervous for today, I had no idea what to expect." Someway somehow your conversation moves off to the side of the set, seated on those acting chairs.

You laugh as he brings up your fleeting encounter earlier, "I had no idea you were playing Piper. One second I handed you a cup and I turned around and you're gone." Your stomach hurts from laughing. You take a deep breath of air to stop yourself from dying. "Stop stop stop," You beg, neither of you sure what you were laughing about anymore.

There wasn't much time until you would resume the scene but in the short time, Jonathan and Carlacia invited themselves over, giving a proper introduction, sparking a lively group conversation. Being 26 put you somewhere in the middle of the cast's ages, but no one got treated any differently because of it.

This current moment was proof. You and Carlacia posed for a selfie she insisted on taking, honouring the 'newest member' into their family. Both leaning in over the image on her screen you share a hearty laugh. JD is captured in the background in the middle of a gnarly yawn.

"Give me the phone, Lacy. That picture is a federal offence." He threatens, not an ounce of seriousness to be sensed in his voice. "I demand justice." You're almost certain you'd have a fully developed six-pack by the end of filming just from all the laughing.

Before you knew it the break was over and you were back where you'd left off. Went through the scene once more, adjusting anything that needed to be altered and carrying on. "I'm only going to ask you once, what do you want?" You've got a tight grip on the weapon and a crazy look in your eyes.

For the first time, Kiara breaks her silence. "Chandler Groff killed our friend! We can't let him get away with it." Her pleas pique your interest, and it's evident in your expression. "Chandler Groff, The conman?" They nod slowly and you begin to fume.

"Come." You wave them over, whipping open the curtains and entering the back of your shop. Four walls filled with various weapons from swords to machine guns. "Feeling like a kid in a candy store." Cleo beams, looking at the options, nothing but revenge in mind.

"Is that a canon?.." Pope trails off, "You've gotta be ready for anything. Expect the unexpected." Pope wholeheartedly agrees while John B begins questioning your knowledge about Groff. "He wronged some friends of mine. He got away before I could get to him, and that was a good call. I would've blown his brain to bits if I got my hands on him."

Kie smiles at that mention, "That's the dream," John B mutters. "Last time he was here, he was after some magical relic, a mythical one might I add. The blue... crest?" The item is lost on you when Sarah fills in. "The blue crown." It dawns on you at the mention.

"It's real," Kie admits and all the pogues turn to her with horror at her honesty. "Groff has it and god knows where he could be with it." You think, "If what you're telling me is true... then that crown is worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He can't just sell it at any auction. There's only one person with money like that. Mr. Finch."

"Where can we find him?"

"He's far. A two-day journey at minimum. You'll be forced to cross enemy territory and only locals know how to navigate the oasis under the radar. If you really are set on killing Groff, I'd be happy to lead you."

You notice an exchange of various looks between the group. "We need a second." Suddenly there's an exclusive huddle that leaves both you and the tall man at odds. He was sending daggers towards you. "Too cool to be part of their little club, are you?" Rafe stalks towards you, long intimidating strides. Displeased with your little joke.

Your faces were close enough that you could see his pupils dilate and contract now in the light from the window. "Listen. I've heard everything you said, and I'm not buying it. I don't trust you, and if you think for even a second I'll let you get in my way, you've got another thing comin'."

You noticeably gulp, it was unscripted but your nerves propelled it. He towered over you, your dark brown eyes searching his blue ones for any signs of insincerity but none was to be found. Every word he said, he meant it.

"And Cut! Drew, Y/n, amazing," Josh adds, and it's only when you hear your names called that you both back away from each other. However, it felt a little harder than normal, as if something was drawing you in.

Madison calls you over, and your feet are already on the move. With one last glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet his for just a moment.

His piercing eyes hold yours, a mix of curiosity and something unspoken flickering behind them, making your chest tighten with uncertainty. You can see it—he feels it too.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza

[twinkletfout]

𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓?

Tw:rough face fuck, gagging, (fem reader x nanami)

Being the kinkiest person in your relationship, Nanami was surprised- no, shocked when he realised the things you were into. As the gentleman kento was, he tried his best to be gentle with you but you knew he was much more than that under all that subtle character, he had much more to him.

"Sweetheart, is this okay..?" He asks, rather confused and shy, as he was gazing at your figure lying with your head hanging down at the side of the bed. "I don't know if we should do this, baby" he says, lovingly as his practically ranging boner was nudging against your nose. "Ken, are you seeing yourself right now?" You ask, not taking your eyes off of that tip oozing with pre cum. Nanami looks away shyly, as he rubs the back of his neck. "Let me know if it's too much, okay?" He would be lying, if he said the idea of using your mouth for his own pleasure like this was not doing things to him. Just thinking of it makes him want to cum all over your face right now.

You nod your head frantically with a grin on your face "at your service, kenny" you say as you open your mouth with your tongue sticking out, still with a teasing smile evident on your face. "Fuck, now you're asking for it." He mutters as he comes closer to your face, he lets out a hiss at that hot breath wafting at his length. He slaps his leaky tip against your tongue a few times. He ran his thumb along your lower lip, allowing you to lick it a few times before he shifts one of his knees on the side of your head, Leaning down, he braces himself by placing his hands on either side of your head. Giving one last look at the lewd sight before him.

Without much thought, he thrusts forward, his cock sliding along your lips until he hits the back of your throat. "Fuck!" He groans at the feeling of your throat instinctively contracting on his cock. He takes a moment to adjust to the sensation, marveling at just how perfect this felt. Nanami starts moving, using your head like his personal toy, his hands had a firm grip on either side of your head. He moved your head up and down his length, sheathing him in warmth with each slide. Your lips stretch tight around him, as his cockhead brushes the back of your throat. "Is this what you wanted? For me to use your throat like this, huh? Is that it, sweetheart?" Your panties were practically so wet at how aggressive he was, just like you wanted, maybe even more. Your thighs clenching itself, trying not to cum.

The nasty sounds of spit dripping down from your mouth and his groans filled the room as he used your mouth, leaning completely on your face, at each thrust, his balls slapped against your nose as your eyes rolled back. He would step back for a moment to allow you to breathe, "you okay, love? Take a breathe f' me, yeah like that" and after that he went back to rutting into your mouth like before, the way he was so careful even though it was you who asked for this.. Gosh this man is so perfect!

He was so close to cumming, he decided it might be too much for you to take it all down. And you knew he was about to cum because of the way he increased the pace as he throbbed uncontrollably in your throat, you could feel it. Just when he was about to pull out to finish on your face, your hand wrapped around his thigh, tightened, hinting him to not pull out, just yet. "baby, thats too much, you cant—! he groaned in between moans, feeling his cum building up, you looked over at him pleading, with your mouth latched on to him, sucking him in. "Fuck, you naughty thing" His hands tightened in your hair, guiding your head and angling it perfectly to maximize the pleasure. The sensation is overwhelming better than anything he could have ever imagined. He head was growing fuzzy at the amount of pleasure he was feeling, his legs growing weak by each passing second.

Nanami grunts as he feels the familiar pressure crashing down on him. Before he decides to just— stop thrusting. Instead choosing to edge himself within your throat. "Haa— fuck baby, you like this?" He hissed at the sensation of your throat clamping down on him. His cock throbs painfully, twitching as he holds back the load of cum threatening to spill from him. "Just a little longer.." your cunt was practically weeping at this. "You want my cum so bad, huh? Then take it." He could feel you gagging around him, clawing around his thigh, only heightening his arousal as his dick throbs desperately before he fills you with his hot seed, each spurt eliciting a shudder from him. Your eyes were rolling back into your head, at the sheer power and pleasure you were feeling all over your body. Despite the intensity of his orgasm, he maintains control, ensuring all of his cum ends up where he wants it. "Thatsss it.." he says in content, making sure the very last spurt of his cum is down your throat.

He finally pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, letting out a sigh as he looks down at your spit covered face, heaving for oxygen, you licked your lips, blinking your eyes up at his. He bent down to meet your eye level, "Didn't know you would look so beautiful like this.. shoulda done this earlier hm?" He said, wiping your face gently "hah.. told you" you said, a faint smirk tugging on your lips.

Who likes rough nanami? MEEEEEE anyways, i hope you guys liked it! This was so... Intense, i enjoyed a lil too much writing this 🙇🏻‍♀️ plus, thank you AGAIN FOR 1K FOLOWERS!!!!

[saeist]

one of the things that sae struggles with the most after arriving in japan from spain is the time difference

there's a 10 hour difference between the two countries that messes up his body clock leaving him wide awake when he's supposed to be sound asleep

like right now for example

it's already 1 AM and yet sae is still wide awake staring at the ceiling. if he was in madrid, it should be around 5pm right now if sae is not mistaken and usually at this time he wraps up his usual training or he's out for an afternoon jog. so because of the sudden shift of timezones, his mind thinks that he should still be moving at this hour

which is not the case

with a quiet sigh, he turns his head to the side to take a good look at you who's sound asleep next to him

for a while, he watches you in silence, a small smile making its way to his lips. it's rare moments like this that sae really treasures to himself. it's not all the time he is physically present in your life as an athlete that lives across the world for his career

so when he can, he savors every little moment spent with you

he leans down to press a delicate kiss on your forehead. you stir a little before you roll over to the other side, escaping sae's hold

sae chuckles and pulls the covers over your body. he leans over once more to kiss your exposed shoulders before he slowly gets up from the bed, tip toeing his way to the kitchen so he wouldn't wake you up

desperate times call for desperate measures

it looks like sae might need to brew himself some tea

standing in the dimly lit kitchen, sae stares idly at the electric kettle in front of him as he waits for it to go off. he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he feels the jet lag settling in. curse timezones and jet lags. all sae wanted to do was to sleep peacefully right next to you but he has to wait for his body to adjust to the new timezone

one of the things he has to deal with as a world renowned athlete

sae jumps when he feels arms wrap around his torso. sae tilts his head back to see you nuzzling your face on his back

"why are you awake?" sae asks, reaching his arm around you, pulling you next to him

"you weren't beside me" you mumble, sleep still evident in your voice, "how about you? why are you up?"

"jet lag" sae answers at the same time the kettle goes off

sae quietly pours himself hot water for his tea while you still cling to him like a koala. he takes long sips of his tea, waiting for it to slowly lull him to sleep

"go back to our room" sae says, sensing that you were dozing off, "i'll be there in a few"

you shake your head no, tightening your grip around him

"the bed is cold without you" you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily

sae chuckles at your answer. of course it's cold without him

he finishes the rest of his tea shortly after and sets the cup down in the sink for him to wash in the morning

then without warning, sae scoops you up in his arms— bridal style

"sae!" you squeal, arms flying to his neck

sae doesn't say anything but kisses your cheek repeatedly as he makes his way back to your bedroom with you in his arms. when he gets to the bed, he carefully lays you back down. he joins in not even a second later, draping the duvet covers over your bodies

you scoot closer to him almost immediately. his arm snake their way to your waist, pulling you snug against him

"bed not so cold anymore?" sae teases, pressing another light kiss on your cheek

you hum in content, nuzzling closer to his neck if it was even physically possible. taking in his warmth and familiar scent

"just the way i like it" you drawl

sae smiles lazily at your words as he finally closes his eyes. he was starting to feel drowsy and he's not sure if it was the tea that helped or the fact you were in his arms in bed again after being apart for a long while

right before he really dozes off, he feels you pressing light kisses on his neck

"goodnight, sae" you murmur against his skin

he's not gonna say it out loud but your kisses tickle

"goodnight" he murmurs, tightening his grip around you before pressing one last kiss against your lips

and with that, sae finally falls asleep

[pastryfication]

Hi, so I'm a one:one teacher and I have heavy anxiety (among other things) especially this year and I use colouring as a de stressing method? So I was wondering if maybe you could write something about going to a GP with boyfriend!Oscar and you're caught colouring in the garage (you only do it during red flags or delays or whatever; you're glued to the race at all other times) and you get widely criticised for that and Oscar (and Logan and Estie and Lewis -- bc I love them and want to be their friends) all defend you? Grazie!

thank u so much for this request!! i’ve tried to write it as well as possible, but i know everyone deals with their anxiety differently. i’ve based this slightly on the way my sister deals with hers (though she has adhd and ocd as well so it might be a bit different) to make it as realistic as possible 🫶🫶

colouring books | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x anxious!reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety and toxic fans

your anxiety had always been something you had to manage carefully. you loved your job, and you found immense joy in successfully handling the challenges it faced you with, but the pressure could be stressful and at times very overwhelming. to deal with it, you discovered a love for colouring. the simple act of filling pages with bright, intricate patterns helped mollify your mind and ease your stress. letting your brain focus on something else, something so simple yet calming, became your sanctuary.

your boyfriend had always been supportive of this method. he knew how much colouring helped you stay calm, and he admired the way you balanced your demanding job with your personal struggles and always found peace amidst your daily chaos.

today, you found yourself in the bustling paddock in the city of monaco. the excitement and energy were palpable, even more so than normal, and while you were thrilled to support oscar, the sheer intensity of the environment began to weigh on you.

you stuck close to oscar for as long as possible, your hand holding firmly onto his. it didn’t take long for him to notice your tension, and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “remember, if it gets too much, you can always find a quiet corner in the garage,” he reminded you. “you don’t have to watch the entire race.”

“i want to watch the race. i’ll be fine.” you assured him, giving him a warm smile as he left you.

as the action began, you watched nervously from the team’s garage. the roar of engines and the frenetic activity around you was both exhilarating and overwhelming. you tried your very best to focus on the race, but your mind started to spiral. when a red flag halted the race due to a crash, the sudden surge of activity and concern as the garage filled with engineers, mechanics and media personnel—all buzzing with tension and uncertainty—pushed your anxiety to its peak.

needing a moment to yourself, you found a quiet corner of the garage and pulled out your colouring book and pencils. the familiar motions soothed your nerves, gradually calming your mind.

lost in your activity, you didn’t notice the curious glances from some of the team members and fans who had found their way into the garage.

“is she seriously colouring right now?” one fan muttered.

“does she not care about what’s happening?” another scoffed.

“some support she offers . . . oscar deserves a better wag.” came a third opinion.

their criticism stung, each word amplifying your anxiety, but you forced yourself to shrug it off. they didn’t know you. they had no right to comment.

it didn’t take long before oscar entered the garage, the red flag lasting longer than expected.

he immediately noticed you huddled in the corner, trying to hide your distress. without hesitation, he walked over and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, thump moving back and forth on your skin to comfort you.

“hey, what’s going on?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

you explained in a hushed voice, looking down at your lap. “some people are upset that i’m colouring. they think it’s unfair to you.”

oscar’s expression hardened. “i’m gonna go talk to them.” he decided.

“no, osc, it doesn’t matter.” you tried to calm him. “i’m used to it.”

your words didn’t help in the slightest, only working to make his frown deeper. he stood up, moving to address the group of fans standing outside with a firm voice. “excuse me, everyone. i would appreciate you not talking badly about my girlfriend. she’s not being a bad support; she’s taking care of her mental health. if anyone has a problem with that, they can come talk to me.”

the room fell silent, a few people looking away sheepishly as they halfheartedly apologised.

you looked down at your lap, slightly embarrassed, but you also couldn’t help but smile to yourself, feeling your heart swell at the actions of your boyfriend. looking pleased with himself, oscar turned back to you, giving you a sweet kiss that made your heart flutter.

later that day, when you where laying next to oscar in the hotel bed, both scrolling through your phone before going to sleep, oscar turned to you with a smile on his face.

“have you seen the way the other drivers stood up for you as well?” he asked. “some fan apparently filmed the whole thing and it was shown to some of them.”

“really?” you asked, excited at the prospect of the other drivers standing up for you.

oscar only handed you his phone in answer, the screen open on a twitter thread.

[mwuaferrari]

I REALLY WANT TO KISS YOU - LANDO NORRIS

The paddock was nearly empty. Only faint lights illuminated a few tents, and a handful of mechanics were packing up the last tools of the night. Just two races left, and the season would be over. Although the championship hadn’t gone Lando’s way, the atmosphere wasn’t melancholy—it felt nostalgic. A blend of exhaustion, pride, and the inevitable “what ifs.”

You leaned against a metal railing, watching as Lando, a few meters away, chatted distractedly with one of his engineers. He was smiling, but you could sense there was something deeper beneath the surface, something he was working through quietly. When he finished the conversation, his eyes searched for you in the shadows. The moment he spotted you, he walked over with a half-smile that sent your heart racing.

Lando stopped a few steps away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket and studying you intently.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice light but tinged with nervousness.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone playful, that familiar teasing lilt he used to deflect anything serious.

“I wanted to check on you, to make sure you were okay,” you admitted, glancing at him sideways.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“I know,” you said, taking a breath as you carefully chose your words. “But… Lando, you did something incredible this year, you know that? Everyone expected big things from the others, but you—you surprised everyone. You fought until the very end, and that’s what matters.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge whether you really meant it. When he found no hesitation in your expression, he sighed softly and smiled—this time, with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

“Thank you. Really. I think I needed that.”

You looked at him, and despite his words, something in his demeanor made you want to comfort him. Without thinking too much, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Lando stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then let out a small laugh as he hugged you back, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder.

“This helps more than words,” he murmured against your hair.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t move far. His gaze lingered on yours, and something in his eyes had shifted—something warm that made your cheeks heat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh.

Lando blinked, then leaned against the railing beside you, a genuine, low laugh escaping his lips.

“I was just thinking about something really stupid.”

“What?” you pressed, curiosity evident in your voice.

He looked at you, biting his bottom lip as if debating whether to say it. Finally, with a shrug and a soft chuckle, he confessed, “I was thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your eyes widened as your heart sped up, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“And that seems stupid to you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

“A little,” he admitted, “but it’s also true.”

The air between you seemed to grow heavier, charged with a new kind of energy. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just teasing.

“So, what’s stopping you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.

Lando’s expression softened, his usual playful demeanor melting into something more serious as he leaned closer.

“Nothing, I guess,” he murmured.

And before you could say another word, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, ensuring this was exactly what he wanted. When he felt you respond, his grip on your waist tightened slightly, the kiss deepening into something that felt like it had been building for a long time.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were slightly out of breath, wearing matching smiles that neither could suppress.

“Well,” he said, his voice soft and tinged with humor, “that felt a lot less stupid than I thought it would.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he replied, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “But I’m also the guy who just kissed you, so I must be doing something right.”

[shomatoriashi]

09/23/24; 01:32pm

{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }

[ the things they say to try and keep you ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

you were getting tired of this constant back and forth relationship you had with sylus, where getting a true reading on sylus and how he was feeling was forcing you to walk on damn near eggshells around him.

despite how you had a cordial relationship with him, it was completely different when night came. despite never once moving in and sharing a living space with him, that didn't stop sylus from visiting you.

his arrival would always be at the most inopportune time as well, usually when you came straight out of a shower. before you could even fully wrap the plush towel around your naked body, sylus would suddenly appear beside you, his hot mouth pressing heated kisses behind your ear.

"s-sylus?" you bite back a moan, feeling the way his teeth lightly nips at the sensitive skin of your neck. he ends up licking away the stray droplets of water that remains against your skin, letting out a soft groan of your name all while pushing his large hand up against your damp towel.

"ssh, work has gotten... pretty taxing lately, and i need you." dear gods, when you hear his husky voice whispering within your ear, oozing seduction while tasting as decadent and sinful as chocolate, you felt your knees tremble beneath him.

his erection was felt pressed up against your backside, making a familiar ache appear between your legs. needing to kiss him, you turn your head to press your lips against his in a searing kiss. you nearly fell against your linoleum floors the moment sylus pressed the palm of his hand against your naked cunt, shamelessly collecting the moisture against his calloused skin with a grunt.

with his lips never once leaving your neck, he continues pressing heated kisses against your skin all while sliding a single finger within your slick heat. the sensation of it all was enough to make you melt for him, your moans echoing throughout the bathroom. the squelching sounds that comes out as evidence to your neediness fills at the air, making the onslaught of pleasure you felt become all the more sweeter in response.

you were so close, and just as your pussy gripped at sylus's fingers in a vice grip, the insufferable man ends up removing his thick digits from it. the sudden loss of him was what makes you let out a string of curses, feeling sylus turn you around before setting you on top of your counter.

a smirk paints his ridiculously devastating face, and you were left breathing heavily when sylus slides the plush towel off of your body. goosebumps end up appearing all across your skin as sylus takes off the belt that hold the waistband of his pants in place. he pulls it down just enough to release his hardened cock from the confines of his boxers, its tip an angry shade of red as beads of precum was seen coming from it.

with a few strokes, sylus presses his cock against your entrance, earning a moan from you. he teases you for a few seconds, sliding the tip of his dick around your pussy lips before licking at his lips.

what he does next makes you do a double take, watching as he removes his phone from the pocket of his suit before setting a timer that counts down from the 3 minute mark. setting off the timer to the side, sylus grips at the fat of your thighs before telling you with a smirk, “if i can make you cum in less than three minutes, you’re mine.”

no other warning was given to you when the onychinus leader was felt completely sheathing his cock deep inside of you. your voice echoes throughout the bathroom, with your hands clawing at sylus's back the moment he continues to pound harshly inside of you.

you had been with a few other men here and there before in your life, but never one who was quite like sylus. even as he continues his relentless pounding against your cunt, you swore that you could feel him pressed up against your throat. the hedonistic sensations of it all was enough to make your head spin, feeling the way his veins seemed to pulsate eagerly as his shaft was buried so sweetly deep inside of you.

and despite your best efforts to hold off on climaxing against him, you lost all of your senses as you felt that familiar snap within your abdomen, making you spill your juices against sylus's still hardened cock.

with a grunt of your name, sylus looks down at the way your walls seemed to clench around the tip of his cock, seeing a clear fluid reach down the base of it before looking at his phone. a smug expression paints his features, and he reaches over to show you his phone. "you came within 2 minutes... heh, looks like you're mine after all."

your mind was in a haze, trying to comprehend what had just happened, "what?"

"tch, no complaints, sweetheart." lifting up both of your legs, he tosses them both over his shoulders before proceeding to pound into you once more, "a deal's a deal; you're mine now."

when zayne had invited you into his office for a 'regular checkup'-

this was not what you were expecting.

it was late at night, nearing 3am when your good friend and doctor, zayne, suddenly calls you, alerting you of how he had to see you. detecting the worry in his voice, you head over to akso hospital almost immediately.

after taking the elevators to his floor, you meet with zayne in his office, watching him as his pristine demeanor morphs into something a bit more... casual-

sensual, even.

his usually perfectly styled, ebony locks of hair appeared mussed, like he had spent a considerable amount of time running his fingers through them. along with his tousled hair, you noticed how his dress shirt had a few of the top buttons unbuttoned, giving you a brief view of his chest.

his voice takes on an almost husky quality, saying your name before leading you toward the examination seat. he coaxes you to lay down against it, "zayne, what is this?"

zayne gives you a familiar, kind smile, "you've been long overdue for a routine check up, right? so i figured i could help you out with that."

"yes, but, i have my own doctor i could go to-"

"nonsense." zayne brushes off your words, already grabbing his stethoscope as he makes his way over to you. "now, just take deep, even breaths for me."

you nod, simply remaining still as zayne began his physical examination on you. grasping at the fabric of your blouse, he gently unbuttons it, revealing the soft material of your bra. you nearly jump when he places the flat end of his stethoscope against your chest, listening to your rapidly beating heart.

"hm, your heart... it's racing. are you nervous?" zayne trails his stethoscope across your skin, taking note of the goosebumps seen erupting. "interesting..."

your breathing becomes labored, watching as zayne sets aside his stethoscope. he suddenly leans closer to you, pressing his hands between your thighs, "so tell me, are you sexually active currently?"

feeling your mouth turn dry upon hearing his question, you felt your heart skip its beats before shakily telling him, "w-why do you need to know?"

"i'm a doctor, and it's important to me that you maintain your health, especially if you're sexually active."

you could feel the heat against your cheeks, a wave of embarrassment coursing through you when you shake your head and admit to him. "n-no, i'm only active when i'm in a relationship..."

zayne lets out a gentle (yet approving) hum. "good... now... on to the next part."

suddenly, zayne frames at your face, his expression filled with longing, before crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that takes your very breath away. unable to hide your feelings for him much longer, you kiss him back with just as much fervor.

gone were all thoughts of coherency, for all you wanted was himhimhimhim...!

in the midst of your passions, zayne had managed to take off all of your clothes along with his, throwing the crumpled fabric in a pile near the back of the room. he keeps your body against the bed, spreading your legs with both of his arms while slotting the side of his cock beneath your entrance.

his voice was hoarse, filled with need for you when he tells you, “if i can make you spill yourself all over me, then you’ll belong to me alone.”

your mouth was open, ready to tell him that you would have belonged to him either way when zayne suddenly thrusts himself into you. stars immediately fill your vision as the red hot pleasure seemed to course through your veins.

with your name coming from zayne's lips in broken syllables, you could feel your arousal getting stronger, watching as such a perfect doctor was falling apart-

all because of you.

"i-i never believed i could feel so strongly about you... you came into my life when i needed you the most." zayne tells you with a gasp, still moving his hips rapidly in and out of you all while pressing lingering kisses against your hand. "you're mine... and if i can just-"

an intense look of concentration was seen on zayne's face, and when he manages to angle his cock ever so slightly inside of you, you felt the way your pleasure seemed to intensify. words left you, and your moans were the last thing zayne could hear when you felt somethin snap deep within you, making a gush of fluid travel down his cock.

you listen as zayne lets out a broken groan, stilling his hips before releasing everything he had inside of you. the overwhelming sensation of your walls spilling all of its juices against zayne's cock takes your very breath away, leaving you in a haze. just as you were about to let the exhaustion take over, you could feel the way your new lover presses kisses against the side of your neck, murmuring a single phrase like a never-ending mantra:

"you're mine... you're finally mine."

xavier had simply invited you over to have a movie night with him. he knew all about the stress you felt when it came to your university work, and he wanted to do something to help you with relieving it.

at first, you thought he was referring to the arrangement you had set up with him-

the friends with benefits type of arrangement where you could help each other destress in the most pleasurable of ways.

with you helping xavier blow off steam after his work as a hunter-

and you letting out your frustrations from college.

upon entering his apartment, you had already planned to shed your clothes, but he holds up a hand to stop you. "no, we're not doing anything like that... i just wanted to help you relax... literally.”

you give him a wide grin, "is that so? so, you seriously don't want-"

the way xavier looks away from you, yet still shakes his head in mere seconds, makes you feel a bit suspicious. "no, i don't. lets just relax together. i even ordered something for us to enjoy tonight."

not wishing to question him, you enter his apartment, feeling your eyes go wide upon seeing the spread of your favorite takeout on his coffee table. "no way! you ordered all of this for me?"

xavier simply gives you a sheepish smile. "yeah, i figured you needed something like this after your brutal midterms. come on, let's dig in. i'll put on something for us to watch."

staying true to his words, xavier allows you to enjoy your evening, all while spoiling you with all of your favorite foods. as you both ate your dinner in silence, you looked at the movie playing on the screen, but wasn't really paying attention to it. throughout the night, you saw the way xavier kept sneaking glances at you all while seeming to inch his body closer to yours.

by the end of the second movie, you couldn't ignore xavier's proximity and decided to play a little game with him.

"hey, xavier?"

he was currently flipping through the movies on the television screen, "yeah?"

you shake your head and take away the remote, turning off the tv as xavier gives you a questioning glance. "i think i've had my fill of movies... why don't we play a little game?"

"okay, what's the game?"

you give xavier an innocent smile before climbing on top of his lap. watching his eyes go wide before a blush dyes his cheeks makes you give him a victorious smile. "it's a simple game, really... we'll take turns touching each other, teasing the other party's weak spot, and whoever moans first loses."

his once sapphire eyes were now eclipsed by darkness, serving as evidence of his lust for you. with a grunt of your name, xavier places both hands against your waist. "okay, if you win...?"

"then you have to take me to the amusement park next weekend and pay for everything, tickets and all." you giggle, teasingly wrapping your arms around xavier's neck. "and if you win...?"

xavier meets your gaze, eyes filled with determination, "if i win, then i get to keep you as mine- we'll be exclusive."

his words manages to catch you off guard, making it easier for him to pin you against his sofa within mere seconds. a look of hunger graces his handsome features when he spreads your legs, gently unbuttoning the button of your shorts before sliding them off of you. you were left in your panties, jumping when you felt xavier pressing his finger against your clothed heat.

"n-no fair! you're cheating-" your protests end up breaking off in a moan, feeling the way xavier slides down your panties with his teeth alone. once you could feel the cold air hitting at your aching core, you swore that the moisture was felt nearly flooding out of you the moment xavier places his hot mouth over your cunt.

his tongue works on tasting every inch of you, drinking up all you had to offer as your hands automatically delve into his hair. your moans were all that were heard echoing throughout the living room. when you could feel xavier's smirk against your pussy lips, you gave his hair a sharp tug, his groans sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body.

using his extensive knowledge of your body, he plays it like an instrument, eliciting gasps and sighs of his name at the right moment without fail. and when he became so needy for you, he manages to stop eating you out like a man starved, replacing the spot where his mouth had once been with his cock.

you were quickly losing your mind now, letting out cries of his name when he sits back on the couch, forcing you to bounce up and down his cock all while weakly glaring at him. "n-no fair, you were totally c-cheating!"

xavier ends up smiling, all while watching you taking him in with such expert precision, “what can i say? i don’t play fair when it comes to you… especially when it comes to finally having you.”

upon finishing his statement, he places one of your perky nipples in his mouth while simply enjoying the show, wanting nothing more than to see you lose control all while claiming you as his-

forever.

when you accepted rafayel's confession, allowing him to claim you as his sole girlfriend, he was afraid that you didn't understand just how serious he was when it came to you.

he recalls his first meeting with you as being something serendipitous; one where he caught the eye of a pretty girl while exploring the museum together.

the young artist saw how you were all alone then decided to keep you company. of course, his act of kindness was simply a means to keep you safe and away from any potential males who could cause you discomfort. yes, all he wanted to do was to give you a peaceful experience-

yet what he wasn't planning on was falling head over heels for you, the lumerian's heart somehow resuming its once silent beats as it came back to life the moment you smiled at him.

of course, he was so happy when you accepted his confession-

but now, it was time to show you that you were truly his forever.

getting close to your 6 month anniversary together, rafayel invites you over to his place, already planning a wonderful spread of food filled with the most luxurious of seafood dishes. from king crab legs served with butter to the lobster fettuccine, everything was perfect.

between sips of the sparkling white wine, rafayel simply takes in the sight of you enjoying the meal so happily, his eyes never once straying away from you for too long. once you had your fill, rafayel gently reaches over to you, wiping away the stray sauce that decorates your lips momentarily before kissing you.

the artist swore that he lived for your laughter, hearing the sweet sound coming from your parted lips. unable to hold back his love and adoration for you for much longer, rafayel picks you up from your seat, carrying you like you were his bride before placing you on top of the silk sheets of his bed.

"rafe?" you call out to him, and he could see the way your expression became flustered when he places himself between your legs. leaning down, he grasps your hands within his larger ones, leaning down to press lingering, butterfly kisses against your features. upon feeling such soft touches, you visibly relax from beneath him, giggling once more.

rafayel smiles against your skin before moving his head back, framing at your face as he met your gaze, "you are by far, the best thing that has ever happened to me. your unconditional love and care for me... has become something i truly cannot live without."

your name escapes from his parted lips in an almost reverent manner. "when i asked you to be mine, i didn't mean this as something that's meant to pass and grow stale with time... i meant this is as the start of forever."

he looks away from you, taking something out of the confines of his dress pants before revealing a tiny velvet box to you. his eyes were glimmering with hope and affection for you, gesturing at you to open it.

you sharply inhale, opening the box to reveal a cute promise ring in the shape of a seashell. in the middle of the shell was your favorite gemstone, and the sight of it was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes. "oh, rafayel... it's beautiful."

his smile was filled with pride the moment he takes the ring out and places against your left ring finger. "a promise, for what's to come... but... if you need more convincing..."

your beloved was felt leaning closer to you now, whispering against your ear, “if i can make you cry out my name, then you are mine to keep forever.” he finishes his statement with a bite against your earlobe-

and you knew that your heart was doomed from the start-

that you never stood a chance when it came to resisting him.

clothes were tossed carelessly aside, as if you were both filled with a hunger to feel each other without any barriers. skin to skin, heart to heart-

like how it has always been when you are with rafayel.

when he settles your body against the bed, all while exploring the sweetness between your legs with his tongue alone, you knew that you were close to losing your mind, your hair pulling against those precious strands of curls. rafayel was insatiable when it came to finally tasting you, almost greedily drinking in all you had to offer as you moved your pulsating core against his face.

only when your desire to have something fill you became too much did rafayel finally relent. letting out a gasp of your name, rafayel pulls you closer to him by grasping at your ankles. he teases your entrance with the mushroom tip of his cock, allowing your sweet arousal to stain at it before gently pushing himself deep inside of you.

your mind felt like it was drunk, eagerly taking in every inch that rafayel had to offer, your breasts bouncing in tune with his thrusts that were quickly becoming fueled by desperation and need for you. and throughout the night, neither one of you wished to stop as you ended up bouncing on top of rafayel with only his name being screamed at the top of your lungs each time you pushed your hips against his, riding him with an equal sense of desperation.

and as you chased your pleasure using rafayel alone, you were unaware of his sly smirk against your skin, for now, you truly belonged to him forever.

end notes: a thirst post based on the fantasies i've had pertaining to the lads men 🫠 currently unedited, but i'll make changes once this is posted. my laptop is heating up as i write this;;;

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[gf2bellamy]

Could i request getting stuck in an elevator with Spence after hours at the BAU and the lights go out (we all know his scared of the dark) and the reader is as scared as him because she's afraid of elevators (this is a genuine fear of mine) so imagine them trying to comfort each other. just some hurt/comfort ig? I live and breathe your content <3

scared — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: they're stuck in an elevator , lights go out , mention of claustrophobia a/n: hiii !!! hope you like this :)

"I don't think so," you mumbled, deep in thought as you walked beside Spencer toward the elevator. 

"I disagree," Spencer countered without hesitation, reaching out to press the button. The faint ding of the call confirmed the elevator’s arrival. 

You sighed, already anticipating a full breakdown of his reasoning as to why he thinks Hotch has been dating someone. "Of course, you do." 

Spencer turned his head slightly, giving you that all-too-familiar Reid look—the one that said, I have evidence, and you’re about to hear all of it. "Hotch has come in two minutes later than usual. Twice this week alone." 

You raised an eyebrow. "Two whole minutes?" 

"And," Spencer continued, ignoring your sarcasm, "he’s left work earlier than usual." 

The elevator doors slid open, and you both stepped inside. You smirked as you pressed the button for your floor. "Define 'earlier.' You mean, like, 2 AM?" 

"Actually, 1:30 AM," Spencer corrected matter-of-factly. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Right. Because that extra thirty minutes is so telling." 

Spencer crossed his arms. "Patterns matter." 

Before you could tease him further, the elevator lurched to a sudden stop. In the same instant, the dim glow of the overhead lights flickered and died, plunging you both into darkness. 

For a second, neither of you moved. 

"...Okay," you said slowly, shifting slightly. "Did we just—" 

"Yes," Spencer cut in, his voice unusually tight. 

"Okay. Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling. "We're okay." You repeated the words as if saying them out loud would make them true. 

Fumbling in the dark, your hands searched desperately until they found the emergency button. You pressed it. Once. Twice. Then over and over. But nothing happened. No reassuring buzz, no static-filled response. Just silence. 

"Oh my god," you muttered under your breath, pressing your back against the elevator wall. 

Spencer wasn’t talking. 

Your stomach twisted. "Spencer, what do we do?" you asked, your voice still unsteady. 

Nothing. 

You could barely see in the pitch-black space, but you knew he wasn’t moving either. 

"Spence," you called again, softer this time, hoping—praying—for a response. 

Finally, he spoke, but his voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sure it’ll work soon." 

That was when it hit you. His fear of the dark.

The quiet strain in his tone. The way he hadn’t moved an inch. 

Your fear of being trapped was bad enough, but his fear was the one you hadn’t considered. 

Swallowing hard, you shifted slightly, reaching out blindly in the darkness. "Spencer," you murmured, your hand brushing against his. He flinched, just barely, but he didn’t pull away. 

"You’re okay," you whispered, echoing your own words from earlier—this time, meant for him. 

A shaky breath. Then another. His fingers tightened around yours. 

"Let's sit down," you murmured, your voice just as unsteady as his. 

Carefully, you stepped back until your back met the cool metal wall, then slid down to the floor, gently tugging Spencer down with you. He followed wordlessly, his hand still clasped in yours. His shoulder brushed against yours.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly. 

Spencer barely responded, letting out a small, noncommittal "Mhmm." It was so quiet you couldn’t tell if it was a yes or a no. 

Your heart clenched. 

So, you did the only thing you could think of: you started talking. Quickly. Without pause. Not entirely sure if you were distracting him or yourself. 

"You know, I'm actually terrified of elevators," you blurted, tracing absent patterns over the back of his hand with your fingertips. It was meant to be a casual confession, but your voice still trembled. 

Spencer shifted slightly beside you. "Really?" he whispered. 

"Yeah." You exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. "I hate being stuck in small spaces. Something about the walls closing in. And, well—" You gestured vaguely in the darkness. "Here we are. Living my worst nightmare." 

There was a pause, then—so quietly you almost missed it—Spencer said, "Mine too." 

Your hand instinctively tightened around his. 

Neither of you said anything for a moment. 

Then Spencer’s voice broke the silence, his words coming out in a rush. "The likelihood of something happening in an elevator is actually incredibly low," he began, his usual rambling tone filling the dark space between you. "In fact, only about one in ten million elevators experience a malfunction that leads to an accident. The technology has improved drastically over the years. In the last decade alone, elevator-related fatalities have dropped by nearly 70% due to modern safety protocols, like automatic brakes, emergency communication systems, and—" 

He trailed off, and you could feel the way his hand gripped yours a little tighter. His usual enthusiasm for facts seemed to be lacking the usual comfort he drew from them. 

You couldn’t help but notice the subtle tremor in his voice , so you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Then, he cleared his throat softly. 

"You know," he began, his voice still quiet, "statistically speaking, the odds of us being stuck in this elevator for more than an hour are incredibly low. Most malfunctions are resolved within 30 to 45 minutes. And, uh, even if it takes longer, we’re perfectly safe. The oxygen levels in here are more than sufficient for two people for several hours. Not that I’ve calculated it or anything—" He paused, and you could almost hear the faint blush creeping into his cheeks, even in the darkness. "Okay, I might have calculated it. But only because it’s interesting. Not because I was worried or anything." 

You couldn’t help but smile. "Of course not," you teased gently, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. "You’re never worried." 

"Exactly," he said and you could practically hear the awkward smile in his voice. "And, um, even if we were stuck here for a while, which we won’t be, I’d… I’d make sure you were okay. I mean, not that you need me to, obviously. You’re perfectly capable. But, you know, just in case. I’d… I’d be here." 

His words were stumbling, awkward, and so utterly Spencer that it made your chest tighten. You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of him beside you.

"Thanks, Spence," you murmured. "That means a lot." 

He shifted slightly. "And, uh, if you’re scared of small spaces, maybe we could… I don’t know, distract ourselves? I could tell you some facts. Or, um, we could play a game. Like… 20 Questions. Or…" He trailed off, clearly unsure if he was helping. 

You chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the air. "20 Questions sounds good. But only if you promise not to ask me something impossible, like the atomic weight of uranium or something." 

He let out a small, nervous laugh, his fingers tightening around yours. "I wouldn’t do that. Probably. Maybe. I'll try not to." 

"Deal," you said, grinning despite the darkness. "You start." 

There was a pause, and then Spencer’s voice softened, his tone shifting from awkward to something warmer, more sincere. "Okay. Um… what’s your favorite memory at the BAU ?

You smiled softly, pressing your head against Spencer’s shoulder as you thought about his question. Your favorite memory at the BAU? There were so many to choose from. But one memory stood out, and it was impossible not to think of him when it came to mind. 

"My favorite memory at the BAU…" you began, your voice warm and a little nostalgic, "was that time you stayed late with me to help reorganize the case files after Garcia accidentally knocked over the entire shelf. Remember that?"

Spencer let out a small, breathy laugh, his shoulder shaking slightly. "How could I forget? Garcia was so upset she brought us an entire tray of cookies the next day. And then she knocked over the coffee machine trying to apologize." 

You grinned, the memory vivid in your mind. "Yeah, but… it wasn’t the cookies or the chaos that made it my favorite. It was you. You stayed with me for hours, even though you didn’t have to. And you kept making these ridiculous jokes. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard at work before." 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, and you could feel the way his hand tightened ever so slightly around yours.

"Oh," he said softly, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "I, um… I didn’t realize you remembered that." 

"Of course I do," you said, your tone gentle. "You made a boring, tedious task into something fun." 

There was another pause, and then Spencer cleared his throat, his voice a little higher than usual. "Well, um… your turn. Ask me something." 

You thought for a moment. "Okay… what’s something you’ve never told anyone at the BAU?" 

Spencer was silent for so long that you almost thought he wasn’t going to answer.

But then he said, his voice so quiet you had to strain to hear it, "I… I’ve never told anyone this, but… sometimes, when I’m working late and the office is empty, I talk to the files. Like, out loud. As if they’re people. It helps me think." 

You blinked, surprised, and then a laugh bubbled up from your chest. "You talk to the files?" 

"Yes," he said, his tone defensive but playful. "And before you laugh, it’s actually a proven psychological technique. Vocalizing thoughts can help with memory retention and problem-solving." 

"Uh-huh," you said, still grinning. "And what do the files say back?" 

"Nothing," he said, his voice dry. "They’re very good listeners." 

You laughed again, the sound filling the small space, and Spencer chuckled softly beside you. For a moment, the darkness didn’t feel so oppressive. 

"Your turn," you said, still smiling. 

Spencer hesitated, then asked, his voice soft and tentative, "What’s… what’s something you’ve never told me?" 

Your breath caught, and you felt your cheeks flush. There were so many things you’d never told him—things you’d been too afraid to say, too unsure of how he’d react.

"I’ve never told you," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "that I’m really glad you’re here. With me. Right now. I mean, not here here, stuck in an elevator, but… just… in general. You make everything better, Spencer. Even when it’s scary. Even when it’s dark and small." 

There was a long pause, and then Spencer’s hand tightened around yours. "I’m glad I’m here too," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "With you." 

But before either of you could say anything else, the elevator jerked suddenly, the lights flickering back on. 

You blinked, squinting against the sudden brightness, and then the elevator began to move again.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hand still clasped in yours. "Well," he said, his voice a little unsteady, "that was… an experience." 

"Yeah," you said, your voice just as shaky. "But… not a bad one." 

He turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. Then the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the familiar hallway. 

Spencer hesitated, then stood, pulling you to your feet with him. "Come on," he said, his voice soft. "Let’s get out of here." 

You nodded with a small smile, your hand still in his as you stepped out of the elevator.

[bimboficationblues]

so the thing about "read theory" as a mantra: in the social media sphere there is a consistent downplaying of what that kind of commitment actually entails, plus a consistent obfuscation of what exactly the commitment is necessary for.

let's say that you're interested in learning more about specifically "Marxist theory." This, I think, also raises a bunch of questions about what we mean by theory - works of political philosophy, texts on revolutionary and military strategy, political speeches, journalistic or sociological analysis, historiography - these varying things with very different discursive norms and standards of evidence or logic often get rolled into one singular object called "theory." but let's set that aside for now.

you want to learn this for maybe an assortment of reasons, here's a few (non-exhaustive) good ones:

Marxism has been a substantial historical force that has probably had a notable impact on the world around you in some way.

Learning about Marx/ism might offer some level of insight into your current social world that other things are unable to offer.

Many texts - Capital, The Wretched of the Earth, The Second Sex, The State and Revolution - are also world-historical forms of political literature, which is interesting.

Follow-up to 2 - maybe having some level of familiarity with these things will give you the ability to better articulate yourself and participate in social and political movements around you.

generally speaking the Social Media Marxist approach is to tell you to go read off a list of texts of whatever writers the author personally agrees with or whatever works she happens to have read. so you decide to start with the big guy Marx, who is at the top of the list. totally reasonable decision.

however, there are a few contextual questions that might reasonably come up when doing so.

first, it will be clear that Marx did not pop out of an intellectual vacuum; Lenin has a rather popular identification of the "three sources of Marxism" - post-Hegelian German philosophy, French socialism, and English political economy. from my perspective, these are more like three of his main objects of ire (and so in some sense are both influences and also breakages - but not strictly speaking a synthesis), but I digress. so, frequently, in order to grasp what Marx is talking about or responding to, you are going to need some level of familiarity with a lot of additional people: Smith, Ricardo, Malthus, Hegel, Bauer, Feuerbach, Hobbes, Spinoza, Rousseau, Mill, Sismondi. suddenly you are not just learning about the works of one guy, but his attitude towards all the people he relies on for support or aims his criticisms at. and each of those different intellectual relationships is going to be different. sometimes at different times!

second, and relatedly, Marx is not always the most charitable to the people he's criticizing, who were often rival socialists (so there were pretty notable political and personal stakes at work in proving them wrong or diminishing their influence over the movement). the introductory materials to the new translation of Capital also observe that Marx's approach to scholarship is, shall we say, haphazard; often he makes quotes or citations that are not actually representative of what he's citing. finally, many of the people he's criticizing have sort of been rendered obsolete historically *in no small part* due to the success of Marxism as a political orientation in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. so to determine whether Marx is being fair to the people he is basing his critique on, we will have to do some level of intellectual work to check. so now we're not just evaluating Marx's relationship to different thinkers but also the substantial content of each of those thinkers themselves.

third, Marx did not pop out of a social vacuum. all of these different writers didn't just crop up from nowhere but wrote within particular sociohistorical contexts, some of which were rather divorced from the European revolutionary wave, first worldwide financial crisis, and the shifting character of the United States in the wake of the Civil War and the formal abolition of slavery - some of the historical events that Marx was more explicitly engaging with. and the radical liberals, republicans, and socialists Marx criticized all also had their own intellectual and social histories. so now we're getting a little far afield from the initial notion, which was just to read some guy, and getting into the realm of social history, and trying to understand the relationship between world history and the ideas produced within it.

fourth, you are a subject in the world, which is to say YOU did not pop out of a social or intellectual vacuum. you likely bring predispositions, assumptions, biases, and cognitive distortions to what you read; we all do. working through those and trying to note where they're happening - where they might be fine and where they might be problematic - will require a certain willingness to reflect, to write, to take notes, to analyze and self-scrutinize, and to be critical of both yourself as a reader and of the text you are reading. (a nested problem is that we have a truly staggering amount of material from Marx and Engels, and you might have to make certain determinations as to which material is important or worthwhile or more useful, and identify the standards by which you think that - all of which requires a certain reflection on your status as a political thinker).

okay, so consider all that. we started with "I wanna read this one guy," we end with "to really grasp the work of this one guy it's also important to know both preceding and contemporaneous world history, his intellectual influences, and the gaps or silences or errors in his work.” now consider that, if you really want to be able to speak on them with some level of confidence and intellectual honesty, you have to apply approximately the same level of rigor to every other writer on the Social Media Marxist approved list - Lenin, Fanon, Che, Kollontai, Cabral, Mao, Luxemburg, whoever. not to mention their critics, both direct and indirect!

Marx developed his work through an incredibly sustained engagement with enormous volumes of different material; we have entire notebooks of him poring over Max Stirner, or Spinoza, or the political economists, or the empirical observations of English factory inspectors. I'm not saying that you have to do that, or even that one strictly *has* to go down any or all of the first three rabbitholes I identified. Marx was in the somewhat unique position of sustaining himself through the support of Engels and his journalistic work, as a product of being in perpetual exile. that's not the kind of position that most of us are typically in.

the point is not "commit yourself to being a perfect monastic scholar in order to reach perfect truth" - such a thing is probably a fantasy, even if we wish otherwise. the point is that if you think "theory" is worth taking seriously, well, you have to actually take it seriously. if you don’t think it has stakes or utility, that’s fine; different people find different things useful. I think “theory” is not a set of dead letters by canonical authors but produced through social life. but if “reading theory” is a way to clarify and assert yourself as a political subject and agent, to claim some intellectual autonomy and acquire some understanding that you can put into practice in your life, then that’s demanding. it’s not impossible, but it does take real effort and a commitment to study and a certain level of resistance to being dogmatic. otherwise you are just letting yourself be rhetorically persuaded by whatever is in front of you or whatever affirms your biases.

as Marx says in the preface to Capital, Volume I, "I am of course assuming that my readers will want to learn something new, and so are ready to think for themselves."

[prettybabywhowrites]

𝐁𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦

You knew JJ was hurting, his face usually marked up by his father. Those bruises had to make his body ache, but you didn't push him to open up, he preferred to keep it inside, hidden from view because that was what he learned to do, what he grew up doing.

You never expected him to let you in, so you did your best to be there for your precious blonde best friend. Making sure he had something in his belly, made sure his injuries were taking care of, keeping an eye over him without overstepping. Little did you know that this only made him want more, your soft touches went straight to his heart.

You, Kie and Pope were heading home after a frustrating day, JJ stormed off earlier, John B had gone god knows where with Sarah, and you guys decided to call it a night, all tuckered out from brainstorming ways to get the gold out of the well. "When did John B. have time to do this..?" You asked, motioning towards the LED lights stringing from the many trees surrounding the Château. Pope and Kie looked equally confused as you guys pulled up beside the house.

You turned off the car, pulling the car keys out as Kiara and Pope began unloading the truck, holding some supplies you guys had acquired for your gold getting. You heard the faint sound of a generator humming and your eyes fell to a familiar face. "JJ?" Pope asked. The three of you stood in front of the boy sitting in a hottub, confusion spread on your faces. He smiled at you, strands of his damp blonde hair stuck to his forehead. "Cmon guys get in the cats ass" he said smugly. "The what..?" Kie questioned, her tone soft as her confusion grew. "The cats ass" he responded, smirk on his face. "JJ, what happened to the money?" Pope asked referring to the money JJ had stolen from Barry earlier. "Well... with the generator, the lights, hottub, and speed delivery.. pretty much all of it.." He said, champagne bottle in hand.

"You spent all the money in one day.." Pope says harshly, the frustration evident in his voice. He sighs "You could have used the money to pay for restitution-" "Or given it to any charity" Kiara adds, equally frustrated. JJ pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing it softly.

"WELL I DIDN'T DO THAT... I BOUGHT A HOTTUB FOR MY FRIENDS.. No screw friends, I bought a hottub for my family.." His voice going soft as he stands, revealing angry purple bruises littered over his sun kissed body.

The silence was loud, JJ's frustrated breaths being all audible. "Oh JJ.." was the only thing you could say before dropping the supplies in your arms and rushing over to him. Kiara and Pope in shock at his battered state, gave eachother a knowing glance, JJ had gone home.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, not pressing yourself too roughly against him to avoid hurting him any further. He clung onto you as sobs racked through his bruised body, burying his face into your neck as hot tears ran down his face. You felt yourself getting emotional at the sight of him, feeling such pain for your usually fun loving, goofy blonde boy. Stroking his hair gently, placing soft kisses to his head, you whispered to him, "I'm so sorry baby.." your voice pained. This just caused him to press his body into yours more, desperate for your care. Once his sobs were reduced to sniffled, you pulled away slightly to look at him. Though hesitant to let you go, his grasp on you relaxed and he looked at your eyes. "How about we go inside? Get you cleaned up?" you asked gently. "Yeah" He whispered softly.

You took his hand in yours, glancing back at Pope and Kiara who had decided to give the two of you some space, both giving a sad sympathetic smile. You pushed the screen door open, JJ following you into the house. You took him into John B's spare room, practically JJ's room due to him crashing there so often after a rough time with his father. You both just sat on the bed, the room silent but not awkward. You turned your head to face him, watching as he fidgeted with the rings on his fingers, scooting closer to him to wrap an arm around his broad shoulders. He tensed but softened at the feeling of your touch soon after, resting his head on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry.." He choked out, his voice barely audible. You shook your head, holding him tighter "You have nothing to be sorry for." You traced lightly on his arm as he spoke again "Yes I do, I got my ass beat and I went and blew all the money" his voice pained. "JJ.. we'll figure out something to do about the money, but that's not important, okay?" "Baby your black and blue, money is replaceable, you aren't" you stated, looking back to him. You watched as his face softened and tears filled his lash line, he quickly hid his face into your shoulder, shifting closer to you. You stayed like that for about 10 minutes, allowing him to calm down. He looked up at you before breaking the silence "Can you- do you mind staying with me?" he asked visibly nervous you would say no. You nodded quickly in response "Wasn't planning on leaving you" you admitted with a tender smile. He visibly relaxed, a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips, head still resting on your shoulder.

He pulled his head off of you, hazily stepping to his feet. You watched him as he searched through the dresser for something to change into, he settled on a T-shirt and some sweatpants, grabbing one of his shirts and shorts for you as well. You accepted great fully, "thanks" you said as your hand reached for the clothing he offered. He nodded as he pulled the shirt over his head, you turned away from him to give him privacy and change into the clothes he lended you. When you were both changed into fresh clothes you crawled into bed, both physically exhausted. He looked at you as if wanting to ask something, you assumed what it was and opened your arms which his instantly crawled into. His body weight heavy but you didn't mind, his hair was still slightly damp from the water but you didn't care, you ran your fingers through it anyways, his head laying in the crook of your neck, content sighs leaving his lips. You had never seen your bestfriend this way, but it didn't make you think any less of him, didn't make you see him differently, just made you care about him even more than you already did. His grasp on you tightened as if he was scared to let go. "Not leaving you, okay" you whispered. "Better not" he said, feeling the smile on his face against your skin.

This is what JJ maybank had been wanting, yearning for, for so damn long. This is what he had been needing. Your body pressed against his, holding him in your embrace and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. You were the first person to ever be gentle with him, to treat him like he was worthy. He never wanted this to end, shamelessly wanted his bestfriend to keep calling him sweet names and rubbing his back, holding him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like he needed to run, he couldn't bring himself to ruin this, he needed you more than he needed to protect his pride and build his walls sky high. For the first time in his life, someone had called him baby and been truly gentle with him. He wasn't sure he could ever get enough of it.