#hozier writing challenge

[newrochellechallenger2019]

tashi x reader - take me to church

disclaimer: i am not religious in any shape or form so this is just an outsider's interpretation pls don't cancel me, thanks to @artstennisracket for the idea!!!

let's please ignore that this took me over a month to write, thank you to all my beta readers, @tacobacoyeet @artstennisracket @diyasgarden @blastzachilles @cha11engers @asheepinfrance

word count: 3.2k, mentions of internalised homophobia based on religion!

the sound of feet stumbling to stand fills the hallowed halls of your church as your priest enters, making his way to the pulpit with an earned grace. your grandmother bows her head, nodding before he's even said a word, your mother is poised, eyes on the cross at all times as you're uncomfortably sandwiched between them.

'please...be seated' comes his booming voice, hands outstretched to you all as everyone sits, a hushed silence falling over the crowd as the priest straightens himself up in preparation.

as he opens his mouth to speak, there's the sound of the church doors banging against the wall as they swing open, followed by muttered 'sorry- so sorry- are we late? so sorry-'. heads turns to see who's interrupted the ceremony, your family's eyes narrowing as they take in the family of three trotting up the aisle and that's when you see her.

she’s pretty, almost too pretty, enough to make those thoughts you'd tried so hard to get rid of swirl around your head yet again. her converse are scuffing the floors as she trails behind her parents, her curly hair tied up in a bun but you could see the way she tugged at strands, letting them fall and rest against her shoulders, a silent rebellion. her mother ushers her and her father into a pew that's right behind yours and you fight the urge to flush red over something so normal.

your mother purses her lips in distaste, leaning over you to whisper to your grandmother, 'the duncans...i hear his father died and they inherited the house' and your grandmother nods knowingly, 'his wife apparently runs some sort of athleisure brand.' they both shudder in offense at the thought, 'new money' wasn't welcome here, certainly not people from the city either, you knew that much.

the priest is smiling, benevolent as always, 'thank you for joining us, the Lord can always make time for his followers.' everyone claps at his wisdom, nodding in unison and agreement, even a few murmurs of 'amen' among the small congregation. he picks up the bible and starts to flick through pages, searching for the sermon he intends to preach this sunday.

'blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven' he begins, voice echoing throughout the church. sermon on the mount, one you knew very well, with but you made sure to listen with rapt attention, your mother mouthing the words with the priest as your grandmother rests her head against her hands, eyes closed.

you're drinking in every word, letting the words seep into your veins and feel that familiar warmth wash over you from the Lord's teachings. until there's a soft rustle behind you and one of her curls brushes your neck and you stiffen, impure thoughts filling every crevice of your brain too quickly for you to hold them back, especially when her breath hits your ear as she murmurs 'sorry' as she scrapes her hair back into that bun. you're too stunned to speak, only offering a small shake of your head in response.

stuck in between your family members, there's not much you can do besides try and focus back on the sermon, on the feeling of the lord's words, not the feeling of her hands on your body. you felt acutely aware of her eyes boring into the back of your head and just as you had half a mind to turn around and tell her to quit bothering you, applause grew around you, choruses of 'amens' filling the pews. you hadn't been listening, she'd distracted you.

your grandmother ushers you to stand and the walk up to the priest begins. 'wonderful sermon as always father' says your grandmother, clasping the hand of the priest in both her own, 'that's very kind’ the priest nods politely but she can't ever take the hint, continuing, 'i damn near felt the Lord's hands on me hearing you speak-’ ‘you know, my daughter was so honoured that you’d suggested her as one of the christian camp counsellors this year.’ your mother’s hands dig into your shoulders as she nudges you forward, just when you thought you could escape your grandmother’s devout speeches, your mother always found a way to make it worse. the priest brightened at that, ‘oh really? that is wonderful news, i know there’s so many kids who look up to you.’ you manage a stiff smile at that, feeling someone’s sharp elbow hit you in the back, ‘hey princess’ she whispers and you cough, the priest’s brow furrowing, ‘yeah…i’d love to help out…’ you manage, trying to ignore her nudging from behind, ‘meet me at the lake tonight’ she murmurs, her breath tickling the the hairs on the back of your neck and you flush red. ‘thank you father.’ you say quickly, excusing yourself and marching towards the door, and yet not missing the condescending smile, wink and wave she gives you as her father introduces them all to the priest. 

the midday sun was unusually bright, enveloping the grassy verges in a warm glow and you could see flowers start to blossom on the trees as the three of you made your way across to your mother’s car, and you felt a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t felt for a long time, your eyes looking over in the direction of the lake and wondering what awaits you there, what that girl’s plan was. 

‘what a rude girl’ muttered your grandmother as she got in the passenger seat, leaving you in the back yet again. ‘who?’ you say as casually as you can muster, thoughts of her still swirling in your head. ‘that duncan girl, she was so fidgety, clearly uninterested in the Lord’s teachings’ huffs your grandmother, as if someone’s disinterest in church was of personal offense to her. ‘i thought she seemed nice’ you shrug, wrong move, two heads whip around to stare at you in the backseat like you’ve just dropped a bomb. nice?!’ your mother repeated incredulously, ‘she couldn’t even be bothered to put on her sunday best! i’m sure her parents can afford something other than that raggedy hoodie of hers.’ your mother gripped the steering wheel tightly as she starts to drive home, shaking her head. ‘...right’ you say quietly, not wanting to argue about this any further, looking down at your hands that fiddle with the hem of your white dress, the one your grandmother spends all of Saturday meticulously ironing and steaming so it’s perfect for church. 

as the grey sedan pulled into the driveway, you got out and meekly followed your family into your modest home. the conversation between them had moved on, complaining about some meal served by your neighbours last sunday. however, within seconds of the key turning in the lock, you’re taking the creaky, wooden steps two at a time to your bedroom, barely hearing your mother’s cries of, ‘i left the camp flyers on your desk! it’s important!’. 

opening your wardrobe, purity stares back at you, long skirts and white garments and for the first time in your life, you feel oddly disgusted by it all. reaching for the shortest skirt and tightest top you own, forcing all thoughts of sin out of your head. you liked this outfit, you repeated like a mantra, you weren’t doing this for her, so she’d think you were cool or something, you liked this outfit. it was only when you were looking at yourself in the mirror that you noticed it. you’d been wearing the silver band so long it almost felt like a second skin, a permanent reminder of your beliefs. clouded by thoughts of her, you’re tugging the purity ring off your finger and tossing onto your crisp sheets, wincing as you notice the red mark left behind, a physical representation of your blasphemy. you took a deep breath as you cracked your window frame open, trying to ignore the cross hung on your bedroom wall, muttering ‘our heavenly father…’ under your breath as you hit the grassy ground. 

dusting yourself off, sun still blazing, you start to trek over to the lake, traipsing through the undergrowth to avoid being spotted. you can’t bear to be the next topic of gossip at church, the disapproving looks and clucks of dismissal, the shame of it all would be too much to bear. eventually, the trees part and the lake comes into view, twinkling in the sunlight. you look around, trying and failing to spot her nonchalantly, your gaze turning desperate. the sound of water hitting the grassy bank draws your attention to the lake, and that’s when you finally spot her, a mix of relief and dread sending a shiver up your spine. 

her curls are dripping with water, oversized band t shirt clinging to her body in a way that makes your greeting get stuck in your throat. ‘you actually showed’ she said with a grin, breathless from her swimming. ‘you’re crazy’ is all you can manage, ‘that lake is…’ you wrinkle your nose. ‘gross? disgusting? infected’ she supplies playfully, shaking herself off like a dog and you squeak, jumping back in fear, ‘god you really are a princess’ she laughs. you frown, ‘i am not! and you shouldn’t use the lord’s name in vain-’. her laugh only grows at your comment, ‘oh my- you’re serious?’. ‘stop it’ you frown further, stood like a pouting child. she catches sight of your expression and steels herself, ‘okay’ she holds up her hands in defense, ‘i’m sorry- i’ll stop’. 

she pulls her tshirt off and tosses it to the ground, only left in a bra and shorts and you mutter prayers for repentance under your breath as you fight not to stare at her chest. she flops down onto the grassy bank, her hand coming up to shield her eyes from the sun, ‘are you too much of a princess to sit down too?’ she challenges. you shoot her a look before flopping down beside her, watching the clouds pass across the bright blue sky. ‘i’m tashi by the way, and i am sorry for teasing you’ she says, looking over at you with earnest brown eyes. ‘tashi’ you repeat softly, letting her name roll off your tongue, it felt nice to say. you introduce yourself and she smiles, a toothy grin that catches you off guard at how real it is, how real she is. 

‘so, how long have you been a churchgoer?’ the question is serious but there’s a playful glint in her eye. ‘all my life’ you answer honestly, ‘i was christened…i did sunday school…i’ve done it all’. tashi stares at you, eyes narrowed as if you’re a code she’s trying to crack, ‘wow’ is all she replies with. ‘wow?!’ you say incredulously, surprised at her lack of teasing, ‘what do you want me to say?’ she retorts, ‘i don’t know! i thought you’d poke fun or something’ ‘do you want me to?’ tashi’s smirk grows on her face again, ‘no’ you sigh and her smirk only grows further, ‘thought so. look, i think it’s a load of bullshit-’ you let out an indignant squeak at the swear word and her brown eyes twinkle with mirth at your reaction, ‘but my mother thinks we should do it so we look good or whatever’ her forehead crinkles in disagreement. ‘look good?’ you pry, perplexed. ‘you know…new to town, fit in with the community, act all pious’. ‘oh…so you’re not? at all?’ you murmur astonished, you were used to the kids your age rebelling against their parents and turning on religion, but to show up to church with no belief at all was strange. tashi scoffs, ‘no- no way, my grandfather was but he never made my dad go with him so it never got passed onto me.’ you nod along, musing on the idea for a minute or so. tashi shuffles closer to you, her side pressing into your own and making your skin tingle at the contact. 

‘penny for your thoughts?’ she nudges her shoulder against yours, expression playful. ‘nothing.’ you shrug, not willing to share how your thoughts had turned from worship to worshipping her in the bedroom, ‘what’s the big secret, huh?’ tashi teases, but there’s a new flirtatious edge to it and still no response from you. you blink and she’s on top of you, damp curls hanging down and dripping onto you. ‘tashi- stop!’ you gasp in surprise and she’s grinning again, ‘c’mon…answer the question’ and before you can speak, she’s leaning in close, her plump lips nearly brushing yours. 

‘tashi! i’m not-!’ you shriek rapidly in panic and her eyes widen, pulling back and getting off you immediately. she doesn’t say anything for a while before, ‘you’re not?’. her voice is quiet, near timid, so different to the cocky girl you’d seen. ‘no! i’m not- i- it’s a sin!’ you splutter in protest, trying to convince yourself more than her as you sit up, grass tickling your legs. ‘a sin…right’ her hollow laugh makes your heart ache, she won’t even look at you. you stand up, stomach churning, ‘i should go- this was a mistake- i shouldn’t have come-’ but she stands too, her damp brown eyes boring into yours, searching for an answer, ‘why did you come?’. the words hang in the air, both of you locked in eye contact as your mind scrambles for an excuse, coming up with nothing. 

you step towards her, ‘tashi…’ you say quietly but she’s stoic, unmoving. ‘answer the question.’ she repeats but there’s no playfulness this time, just bluntness. ‘it’s not that simple…’ you plead, stepping closer again, she’s not stepping back which you take as a positive. ‘it is, i see the way you look at me.’ tashi grits out, ‘are you gay?’. her words hit you like a punch in the throat, all the air sucked out of your lungs and suddenly you’re back in your bedroom, praying over and over again and losing sleep because a new youth pastor came and gave you a talk on peer pressure but all you could focus on was how pretty she was, how kissable her lips were. 

now it was tashi who had taken a step closer, ‘are you?’ she repeated but her voice was more gentle now, more coaxing. ‘i-’, you start but her fingers brush your chin, tilting it towards her, ‘can i?’ tashi says with an unusual amount of delicateness and you find yourself nodding. the moment her lips meet yours, the world around you falls away and all you can focus on is her, your hand moving to cup her cheek as the kiss deepens. her tongue starts to prod at your bottom lip, asking for entrance and reality comes crashing back down into view. you break the kiss, choking back tears, shaking your head. tashi’s brow furrows, ‘hey…’, she says softly, ‘i’m sick!’ you yell, ‘this is wrong- it’s- i was born sick- i shouldn’t want this- i shouldn’t want…you.’ you pant, staring at her with tears rolling down your cheeks. stunned, tashi slowly wipes your eyes, ‘listen to me’ she whispers, pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek and the fight drains out of you, unable to push her away. ‘there’s nothing wrong with us’ she murmurs, kissing across your face till she reaches your lips again and this time, you fall into the feeling. 

your hands tangle in tashi’s tousled curls, her tongue colliding with your own as the kiss grows feverish. it’s broken by her kissing across your face, down towards your neck, ‘not there’ you breathe, there can be no evidence of this. tashi makes a face of reluctance at you but agrees, her hands sliding down your hips as she sinks to her knees before you, and you flush at how reverential it feels. ‘how about here?’ she purrs, her hands pushing up your skirt as her face slips between your legs, licking a long stripe along your underwear and you gasp, ‘tashi-’. her face peeks out from your thighs, ‘relax…nobody comes out here anyway’ she murmurs, before mouthing at your clothed pussy again. 

you squeak in surprise, trying to stifle how good that little stimulation feels after years of abstinence. her laugh vibrates against you and only doubles the feeling, her finger hooking into your panties and pulling them aside, her face pressed against your bare cunt and you whine. with tashi’s nose rubbing your clit, she starts to lick at your folds and you whimper, ‘wow- oh-’. tashi grows bolder, tip of her tongue penetrating you and you screech, nearly toppling over in pleasure, hands gripping her shoulders. she pushes your legs apart a little further so she can nestle between your thighs properly as she’s on her knees, her tongue pushing deeper into your hole and causing you to pant, ‘tashi- ngh-’. slowly, her tongue starts to thrust in and out of you and your moans grow louder, nails digging into her shoulders so hard you fear you’ll leave marks. 

tashi’s nose brushes your clit again as her eating grows more furious and you’re shocked by the obscene noises your soaked pussy is making, ‘tashi- you are- you are temptation incarnate’ you manage breathlessly and her tongue hits your g spot, ‘but don’t stop- ah-’. she pulls away just to grin up at you teasingly, her chin soaked with your juices before diving back into you.

your legs start to shake as she moves to suck on your sensitive bud, ‘tashi- wait- i feel-’ but she doesn’t let up, slurping on your cunt like it’s her last meal, ‘please- something- ngh- feels weird-’, you whimper, legs shaking violently, head thrown back in lust. suddenly, it was like a dam burst and you’re gasping for air as you’re lost in the throes of pleasure, ‘holy shit- tashi-’ you moan throatily, blinking rapidly as you try to come back to the world of the living. tashi’s lapping it up, still sucking on your oversensitive pussy, making sure to drain every last drop from you, before she’s unhooking your panties, letting the fabric cling to your soaked cunt.

she looks up at you with a devilish smirk on her face, ‘did you just swear? and use the lord’s name in vain?’ she laughs and you pout, ‘shut up!’ you push her shoulder and she falls down onto the grass dramatically, but not before pulling you down on top of her, ‘i don’t know what that was…it was like i lost my mind for a second…’ you murmur, reliving the moment of bliss in your mind over and over. ‘you had an orgasm baby’ tashi says bluntly, finding your reaction amusing, ‘i did?! woah’ comes your shocked reply, ‘i know, i’m just that good’ she smirks, and you can taste yourself when she presses her lips to yours for a hungry kiss. ‘thank you’ you murmur against her lips and she offers you a smug smile, though secretly flattered, ‘you’re welcome, you know where to find me’ she purrs. you rise to stand, leaving temptation behind as you make the trek back home, legs still shaking, prayers and apologies already on your lips. 

tags: @pittsick @femme-lusts @glennussy @stanart4clearskin

[high-quality-assorted-chaos]

challengers (2024), luca guadagnino / almost (sweet music), hozier

[megthemariner]

Six Song Soundtrack

Thanks for the tag, @tevivinter!! This game/challenge was made for me lol I was so excited to see it :)

Rules: If you're tagged, make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things/ events about your OC/story.

———

Foramina Ingellvar

(star of my longfic wip that I will finish & post someday I swear Lost & Found)

Event that defines your character’s past:

Abbey by Mitski I am hungry / I have been hungry / I was born hungry / What do I need? / I am something / I have been something / I was born something / What could I be?

How your character sees themselves:

don’t quite belong (demo) by dodie Guess I’ll just pretend / Play along ‘til they figure it out / I don’t quite belong, oh, oh / Fake it ‘til you make it but I’m getting it wrong / Think I’ve figured it out / I don’t quite belong, oh, mmm

Their closest relationship (romantic and platonic):

Ready Now by dodie (romantic - Lucanis) You saw through me all this time / I’d forgotten people are kind / I was hurting and you knew / So you showed me what to do / You said “I will listen, tell it all / When you’re finished we’ll talk more” / But I didn’t know how, so we took it in turns / To my surprise we found my words Immortals by Fall Out Boy (platonic - Davrin) They say we are what we are / But we don’t have to be / On bad behaviour, but I do it in the best way / I’ll be the watcher (watcher) of the eternal flame / I’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

A major fight scene:

Monster by dodie I craft my words to fit your head / ‘Cause no one listens to the dead / So maybe I will talk to you / The only way I know how to / Mmm, mmm I’ve said my speech / Mmm, mmm through sharpened teeth / You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin / Please, let the devil in

End credits song:

Empire Now by Hozier Sun comin’ up on a dream come ‘round / One hundred years from the empire now / Sun comin’ up on a world that’s easy now / One hundred years from - / One hundred years from -

Tagging @rowanisawriter @rosieofcorona @crabs-with-sticks @cursedhaglette @librivore42 @wishforhome no pressure as always!

[lost-in-reveriie]

hozier, the man that you are

[babybluebitchface-blog]

hozier writes songs for people in love with the same gender and people in love with people who are old enough to be their parent

[radioactive-killjoy]

Writing my first ever smut (Good Omens) while listening to Hozier and drinking hot tea ☕️

[thebunnyslibrary]

BunBun's Spooptober Collection

My very first spooky challenge! I'm so excited to share these works with all of you <3

A/N - This was heavily inspired by and is in a way a tribute to Hozier's new album "Eat Your Young." <3

October 6. - In The Woods Somewhere

Vampire!Bucky x Reader

October 13. - To Be Alone With You

Loki x Reader x Muse!Hozier

October 20. - Sunlight

Sun God!Steve x Reader

October 31. - To Someone From A Warmer Climate

Witch!Reader x Demon!Lee Bodecker

[sharingcitrusfruit]

-n.p.

[wordstome]

*David Attenborough narrating a nature documentary about exotic birds voice* “It seems Bucca’s currently working on kingdom come 3! Let’s take a peek in on her creative process.”

*the door opens to reveal me endlessly looping Hozier’s Blood*

BUT I LOVE THE VERY BLOOD OF YOU IT KEEPS ITS HEAT IN SPITE OF YOU OH THE HEART THAT BEATS TO KEEP YOU HERE WITH ME ALWAYS

*quietly shuts the door* “well. Let’s wish her luck.”

[bi-bard]

the writing challenge for "The Good Witch" by Maisie Peters should be a hate letter to men

the writing challenge for "The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess" by Chappell Roan should be a love letter to women

and the writing challenge for "Unreal Unearth" by Hozier should be... a neutral letter about sin? I guess?

[high-quality-assorted-chaos]

challengers (2024), luca guadagnino / who we are, hozier

[eeveesanddragons]

Someone New - Drabble Challenge #14

The pure delight of jumping onto the fallen leaves is one of my favourite things. My boots match the bright yellow or the deep reds, depending on which pair I decided to wear that day. I fall a little bit more in love with the world with every tree I see turning hues of russet and gold during autumn. Even more upon their return along with the flowers in spring. Watch the leaves twirl, and the…

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Friends-with-Benefits Challenge

The following are prompts including friends with benefits/situationships!

This event is over (Masterlist here!), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🥰 Song Prompts 🥰

"Sex" by The 1975

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

"dress" by Taylor Swift

"august" by Taylor Swift

"Casual" by Chappell Roan

"Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier

"Close to You" by Gracie Abrams

“Stuck in the Middle” by Tai Verdes

"Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

"I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys

“Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by Arctic Monkeys

💌 Dialogue Prompts 💌

“I’m just in it for the snacks.”

“No wonder you’re single…” (joking?)

“So... what’s the stance on cuddling?”

"You deserve something real. I want us to be real.”

“We’re just friends with benefits.” // “Right, and the benefit is being madly in love.” (sarcasm?)

“We’re… friends. With benefits.” // “Without sex? What’s the benefit?” // “My delightful company, asshole.”

"I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." // "Do you want the benefits?" // "Yes—No... I'm your fluffer!" ('New Girl')

“What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

General & NSFW Prompts Below!

🌹 General Prompts 🌹

Someone figures out the situation. A and B try to figure out how.

A is blindsided by jealousy when someone shows an interest in B.

A and B try to be normal so no one knows. Literally everyone knows.

A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B.

A realizes they are happier with B than any actual significant other they’ve had.

A is totally B’s type, which has never worked out before. As a result, A keeps sabotaging things.

A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them.

A reaches out to B for a hookup but gets rejected, and they each struggle with their disappointment.

A is treating the arrangement like a formal business deal. B gets tired of it and shuts them up with a kiss.

A and B used to be friends with benefits. When they meet again later, the arrangement is still appealing.

A has to leave town for a long time. They have one last night with B but don’t tell them. They’re gone in the morning and leave B wondering what they wanted to say the night before.

Anything else you can think of!

💋 NSFW Prompts 💋

A completely defies B’s expectations of what they’re like in bed.

A and B decide to hook up one last time (or maybe not the last...)

A agreed to take B’s virginity as long as B didn’t catch feelings. It seems like B didn’t. A did, though.

A and B's no-judgment rule means they're finally comfortable to ask for what they've always wanted to try in bed.

A is annoyed with B, so they start loudly complaining/joking about their situationship. Angry/playful sex ensues.

A and B have never felt truly satisfied in bed until there were no strings attached... it definitely wasn't because of finding the right partner.

Happy Writing!

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and��is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[fullymyself]

Drowning

Pairing: Matt Murdock X Reader

Word count: 2,406

Prompts: "I love you" "It'll pass" from Fleabag, and I also added a bit of one of my favourite songs, Hymm To Virgil by Hozier (it's very Matt)

Warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of injury and reader gets into a fight

Notes: Hello! This is my entry for @elixirfromthestars Cinema Writing Challenge! I've been away from writing for a few years now. The last time I wrote anything, it was the begging of the pandemic and I ended up stopping completely and deleting my Tumblr account during that time. It was pretty hard to come back and it's been such a long time, so I can't help but feel really anxious with posting again, so I wanted to thank Mel for this wonderful challenge that made me get back into writing!

English is not my first language so please forgive me for any mistakes, if I re-read this fic one more time I'm gonna give in to my anxiety and not post it. Hope you enjoy it and sorry for the angst!

Divider by @enchanthings-a

''Matt, stop!" Your voice echoes in the apartment, louder than you meant it to and high enough to make him stop rushing his way up the stairs. "If you're really doing this, when... if you come home, there'll be no one waiting for you."

That gets his full attention and he turns around on the steps, facing you. The fire behind his expression lowers and through the cracks you can see the hurt starting to sip through. He opens his mouth but you cut him off. "Don't start with your excuses, Murdock, I'm done with it. Call it whatever you want to make yourself feel better, this isn't right. I've known about your demons, I've accepted them and you know damn well I've got my own but this..." You step closer to him so you can push against the leather covering his chest. "This was meant to be a symbol, this was hope, justice... not an excuse for you to go around acting like the people you fight against"

"I-" His voice cracks and you can see the tears forming in his eyes, you  know he  can read your emotions better than anyone and you're sure he can tell how serious and hurt you are. You have to close your eyes and breathe, fighting against every instinct that tells you to comfort him. You know you're right and you're not backing down now. "I've got to do this. They won't stop hurting innocent people, people we love, if I don't stop them. I need to protect you, Foggy, Karen..."

"Don't put this on us. If you keep trying to justify this with some noble excuse instead of recognizing you're doing this for yourself, for your pride, your pain, your vengeance... you're gonna end up like the men you're sacrificing everything to fight against. " You fight the tears threatening to fall and your throat burns in protest. "What will happen when you run out of people to hide behind, Matt?"

"You're right." You step back needing to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, knowing damn well it'd take every bit of strength you had to walk away from him. "I don't understand." You quickly grab your phone and coat and make your way to the door.

"You don't understand..." You look at him, incredulous and hurt, and can't help but scoff. You've been by his side, through the bad and the ugly. You've seen Matthew Murdock, the righteous church boy turned attorney. You've held him when his world was crashing down, you've been together through loss, grief, happiness, pleasure... but you'd also seen the devil of Hell's Kitchen. You'd seen the anger come out, the hatred, the desire to hurt and make people pay. Retribution, revenge, payback... and even then, when the world shrieked in fear, you had stood by his side and loved every part of him.

Before you can register it, he's in your way, hands hesitantly reaching out to you. "Wait, Y/N, I can't... I can't do this without you"

"And I can't do this with you. I won't sit here and wait for you to become the same monster you've been fighting." You push past him and he doesn't resist.

As you're making your way through the door, you hear his voice for the last time, and it takes everything in you to not turn around. His voice is soft and cracking with the effort to keep his pain at bay - it's all Matthew and no Devil. "I love you"

"It will pass" You say resolutely as the door closes behind you, trying more to convince yourself than him, even though it feels like you clawed your heart out of your chest and left it in the hands of the man you loved.

You walk aimlessly through the streets of a damned city praying to a God you weren't even sure you believed in to keep him safe, to let him come back home safe and with his soul intact.

It's only once you're blocks away and you're sure he can't hear you that you allow the tears to slip out. It's pretty much impossible to keep the panic at bay when all you can think is that Matt might not comeback from this fight and you didn't say it back.

_

Months passed, somehow both too quickly and tortuously slowly. You hadn't seen Matt again and did everything you could to keep yourself from hearing about him too - even though every cell of your body missed him, you had to remain away from him or you knew you'd fold.

Karen had helped you get your things out of the apartment so you wouldn't have to go back. Foggy had also offered to help you with... well, everything, but you couldn't ask him to choose a side in this.

In order to keep yourself sane you had an agreement with the both of them, no talks of Matt or Daredevil when you met -  usually at Josie's where the so called drinks would help you forget for at least a few hours just how fucked the past months had been.

They'd make sure your get togethers would happen when Matt was too busy with work or with his side gig to go out so you wouldn't have to worry about awkward soul crushing encounters.

The second agreement was unspoken but it was clear as day - if Matt was hurt or in serious danger you'd be the first to call. No details were ever given, unless you asked, and the calls usually lasted only a few seconds in which a crying Foggy would try to sound tough but would end up only whispering a ''He's safe, you can rest.''

But turns out maybe you should have had an agreement about you as well.

_

It was a stupid move, you were well aware, but when it happened you really didn't think before you acted.

You were on your way back home from work when you heard a woman scream and saw man running down the street in your direction. A brown haired woman ran out of a building, several bruises covered her face and she struggled to shout a plea for someone to stop the man.

You acted on instinct and became an obstacle on the man's path. He collided with you full on, throwing both of you to the floor with extraordinary force, your whole body aching on impact.

''You fucking bitch!'' He shouted scrambling to get up as you grabbed his arm, trying to keep him down as long as possible as the sound of sirens kept getting closer.

Suddenly, as the streets got illuminated by red and blue lights, the man grabbed a fistful of your hair, his other hand coming down to strike your face. 

It hurt like bitch and destabilised you long enough for the man to get away, only to be tackled down by police a few feet away.

_

It was definitely going to bruise, you thought to yourself as you examined your face on the mirror, but other than that and a few cuts and scrapes you were okay - physically at least.

After the day you had, being alone in your apartment and having to take care of yourself, was incredibly hard. You couldn't help but imagine that this must be a fraction of what Matt felt when he would get home after a hard night and just wanted to be held.

There's a faint knock on your window when you go back to the living room, and you turn around to find Matthew pearched on the fire escape. You don't know if your heart is beating uncontrollably because of the jumpscare he manged to give you or because he's actually in front of you after all this time - if you had to guess, probably both.

Hesitantly you make your way to the window and let him in. He's not wearing his usual red getup, rather his older black attire. You know he wears it when he needs to do something he doesn't want the media to associate with Daredevil but you can't help how it tugs at your heart - this was the Matt you first met and fell in love with.

Matt keeps shifting where he stands, clearly uncomfortable and not knowing how to proceed. It's only when you talk that his body relaxes a bit and he reaches up to lift the cloth hiding his face. "Hi, Matthew." Against all the conflicting feelings and hurt, your voice is soft around his name, making it sound heavy and sweet - like an indulgent bite of your favourite treat. He takes a long, deep breath, savouring the way his name sounds coming from your lips. ''How did you know?'' This time, your voice is harsher, pointed at him with sharp edges.

''Police radio'' Of course he did. You take a deep breath but don't respond. There's a part of you that wishes he'd known because he was keeping tabs on you not because of some random police message, but you're not willing to listen to it, so you justify your annoyance with having your privacy violated, with knowing that even after all this time he still knew things about yourself without you having to say a word while you could not be certain of anything when it came to him even when he'd talk to you.

After a while he moves, hands reaching out with so much hesitation, torn between being afraid you'll step away from him and being afraid you'll open up again and he might hurt you. Seeing the man that had touched you so freely and adoringly before hesitating so much broke your heart.

You met him half way, gently guiding his warm hand to your face. The almost featherlight touch sent shivers down your body and you had to fight against leaning onto it, for the sake of your bruised face and your sanity.

''Are you okay?'' His voice was sweet but there was something else lingering beneath it as his fingers examined your face, lightly touching the feaverish skin of your bruised cheek and trailing down to the small cut on your lips. His jaw tightened with anger.

''I'm okay, just got a few bruises and scratches, nothing I can't handle.'' You try to reassure both him and yourself, clinging to the words you had repeated like a mantra for the past months - I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay...

''You know that's not what I'm asking.'' There's a faint smile on his lips, one burdened with sadness and acknowledgement. He always knew you too well for your own sake. ''How are you?''

You know he can assess how you are physically, probably better than any doctor, and though he knows you well enough to know how you might feel, he can't read your mind. So, with the mess of thoughts running through your head you settle with being as honest as you can. ''I don't know.''

And you really don't. The past months have been an amalgamation of intense and opposing feelings. There's the part of you that is hurt, tired and that wants to scream at him for everything that happened. But there's also the part of you that loves him, that has longed for him and that just wants to be in his arms. Trying to fall out of love with him is like trying to breath underwater, having your lungs fill with water day after day while telling yourself that everything was okay.

Before the tears turn into sobs, Matt pulls you into his arms. You stay like that for god knows how long, he just let's you cry while he holds you. His hand moves through your hair in an attempt to soothe you and when you finally stop crying he doesn't let you go, pressing a kiss to the top of your head but only tightening his arms around you. Now that you're calmer, you can feel how much his hands are shaking.

"I know I'm in no position to ask you this but please never do anything like that again." Now that he speaks again you realize he's been crying as well, his voice heavy and hoarse. All you can do is nod against his chest.

More time goes by until you finally muster up the courage to speak again. "What are we now, Matt?"

He takes a while to speak, and just as you think he's not going to, he sighs. "I don't know." There's a pause as he let's go of you. He brushes away the hair sticking to your wet cheeks and cups your face, forcing you to look at him. "But I need you to know that everything you said to me that night was true, and I was too much of an idiot to see it." He sighs again, and you can see the hesitation on his features. "Everything was true but one thing... it didn't pass, and I don't think it ever will. I love you, and I don't care about what we are, I would burn the world to bring some heat to you. That won't change if we're friends, acquaintances, friends of friends... I just can't be a stranger. I wanna be a part of your life, anyway you'll have me."

He's the man without fear, yet the only thing you can see on him is how afraid he is as he waits for you to say anything.

"I fought against it with everything I had, and it almost broke me, Matt." It's your turn to touch his face and he does not show the same control you had before. He leans  his face against the palm of your hand and all but moans with the feeling. "It's impossible to fall out of love with you." Carefully and slowly, you move to press your lips against his.

God knows the problems are not solved between the two of you, there will still be battles to be fought and arguments to be had. But as you lay on the couch listening to his heartbeat and talking honestly about everything that you hadn't had the courage to talk about before, you realize this is how the world is meant to be. For the first time in months you feel like you're no longer drowning.

If you're here, hi!!! Thank you so so so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is very much appreciated.

If you liked this fic, I'm trying to get back to writing so I'm accepting requests and I'm also planning on rewriting some fics I wrote in the past, if any of these catch your eye let me know cause I have no idea with which one to start:

Bucky Barnes X Maximoff!Reader - the story is based on the movie Practical Magic and the reader was raised alongside Pietro and Wanda. The siblings ended up growing apart in recent years, that is until the day Bucky Barnes showed up at your door with Wanda passed out in his arms. Now you're confronted not only with your family but it's curse.

Bucky Barnes X Reader - the story is based on the movie While You Were Sleeping. You work at a café and have a secret crush on Steve Rogers, the super soldier who has been coming to the shop every week to grab a coffee and sketch. One day, he is attacked right in front of the café and, even though you manage to save his life, he falls into a deep coma. All it takes is one misplaced comment and now the whole hospital and the Avengers think you're Steve's secret fiancée. What's worst is that now you find yourself falling for his best friend.

Aaand that's it! Thank you so much again and I hope you have a great day!

[musingsofheaven]

addison / addie. nineteen. asian. pre-med student. tan skin. bisexual. she/her. curvy princess. neurodivergent. @addiexith’s writing account.

challengers. outerbanks. you. normal people. the hunger games. the maze runner. divergent. ladybird. marvel. fearstreet. scream. anora. formula one. suits. & too many to mention.

ethel cain. hozier. lorde. chase atlantic. cigarettes after sex. the neighbourhood. niki. olivia rodrigo. charli xcx. tate mcrae. chappell roan. sabrina carpenter.

art donaldson & rafe cameron defender.

this is a temporary pinned and i am currently in need of mutuals so don’t be shy to interact by commenting, following, reblogging, or hearting this post because if i see you do any one of those, i will follow you! be nice to me too because it’s my first time having a writing account here in tumblr!

pngs by @pnglove & @bokkeltje. divider from @bbyg4rlhelps. tysm!

sorry for many tags / # ! (just need to reach wider audience)