#i Will find a way for this to work i have to so i can live but
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PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO
prisoner!geto who canât stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny heâs been in a while. Heâs pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesnât have a bunkie or else heâd be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. Heâs smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing heâll see you there.
âNot you again,â you sigh.
âTold you Iâd see you soon, doctor.â He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell youâre avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. âHave you thought about my offer yet?â He asks.
You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. âDonât know what youâre talking about.â You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.
âCome on. Iâll even beg.â He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. âYou telling me you havenât thought about it once since we last seen each other?â He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.
You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.
âListen,â he rubs a hand down your waist, âmeet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if youâre really down.â He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. âBye, bye, doctor.â
Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. Itâs just one time, one time. You bet he wonât even be there, that heâs just playing a stupid joke cause heâs bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. âWell, look who it is,â he chuckles. âCame here to help me out, doc?â He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.
âShut up already and letâs get it over with.â You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. âWe gotta be quick,â you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.
âMore eager than I am, huh?â He teases, earning an eye roll from you. âCome here.â He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. Heâs already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. âFuck,â he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. âAlready so fucking wet.â
He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Getoâs entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard youâre sure heâd leave marks. âOhhh shit,â he lets out a shaky breath. God, itâs been so fucking long since heâs had some good pussy and he can already tell he wonât last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. âMy god,â he laughs in your ear. âLemme just enjoy this feelingâfuckkkâfor a moment,â he moans, eyes fluttering shut.
He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. âPussy feels so fucking good,â he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. âDo you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?â He jokes.
âMmmmâŠshutâahâup!â You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. âJust keep fucking me,âyou say with a raspy breath.
âDoctors orders.â He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. âYou take it so well,â he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. âSo fucking well.â His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. âShh, shh, shh.â His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.
Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. âAtta girl. You feel how fucking deep I amâŠshiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like thatâyeah, yeah youâre gonna make me fucking cum.â His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before heâs filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. âNo, no, donât you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!â His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.
Geto truly wishes he couldâve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now heâll have to settle for this. âYou came inside me, asshole!â You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.
âCouldnât let it go to waste.â He reaches out and stroke your cheek. âRight?â
âWhatever.â You swat his hand away. âWhere are my underwear?â You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.
âIâll be keeping these for later,â he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.
âYouâre such a pervert.â You narrowed your eyes at him.
âYou have my cum running down your leg right now.â He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. âMmm, thank you, doctor.â He smiles before kissing you once more.
You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. âIf it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.â
âNo. This was a one time thing.â You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.
âWas it? Cause I donât think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.â He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. âYeahâŠit definitely isnât the last time.â
#ââclassyrbf#jjk#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#geto x reader#geto smut#geto x reader smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader smut#geto drabble#geto smut drabble#jjk smut drabble#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto smut#suguru geto x reader smut
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words you couldn't hear â satoru gojo
satoru's been hopelessly in love with you for years, but can only confess when you can't hear him. but somedayâmaybe someday soonâhe'll tell you for real.
"How do these look?" you ask, slipping on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and striking a pose. "Be honest."
Satoru, who's been trailing behind you in the electronics store for the past hour without complaining like the best friend he's always been, looks up from the speaker he's been fiddling with. "You look good in anything."
"No, for real." You turn to check your reflection in a nearby screen. "Do they make my head look bigger? I feel like they make my head look bigger."
He snorts, reaching over to adjust the headband. His fingers brush against your temple, and you try not to think about how many times those same hands have absentmindedly played with your hair during movie nights, or how he still unconsciously reaches for you whenever he laughs too hard, just like he did when you were kids.
"That's what you're concerned about? The size of your head?"
"It's a valid concern."
"Your head is perfectly normal-sized," he assures you, his fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long as he fixes the fit. "Though I suppose all that overthinking has to go somewhereâ"
You shoot him a look, but there's no heat behind it. Fifteen years of friendship has made you immune to his teasing â well, mostly immune.
You're not quite immune to the way your pulse quickens when he's standing this close, or how he still smells like that same cologne he's worn since high school, the one you helped him pick out for his first date with someone else while ignoring the weird ache in your chest.
"I really need good ones for studying," you say, checking the price tag. "My roommate talks way too much."
Satoru winces at the price. "Expensive. But they're supposedly the best."
"Worth every penny if they can block out her ramblings." You adjust the fit, immediately noticing how they muffle the noise of the shop. "Oh wow, these are actually incredible. Say something so I can test them properly."
"What should I say?"
You arch an eyebrow at him. "Anything. Just need to check if they work."
His expression shifts then, melting into something tender as his lips move. Even though you can't hear the words, something about the gentle way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter strangely in your chest.
"These are perfect!" you say, pulling them off, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. "I couldn't hear you at all. What did you say?"
Satoru leans against the display counter, chin propped in his hand as he watches you fiddle with the headphone cord, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Nothing really," he murmurs, but there's something soft in his expression, something unguarded that makes your heart skip.
You pause, catching the way he's looking at you â like you're something precious, something more than just his best friend of fifteen years. "Satoru?" you say softly.
He seems to catch himself then, straightening abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck. "Ah, yes. Should we, uh." His voice comes out slightly strangled. "Should we get these paid for? Before they close?"
"The store closes in two hours."
"Better safe than sorry." He's already heading for the checkout, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.
What you don't know â what you couldn't hear through those noise-canceling headphones â were three words he's been trying to say for years. Three words that slipped out so easily when he knew you couldn't hear them, when the safety of silence gave him the courage he's never had before.
"I love you."
Simple. Honest. Everything he's wanted to tell you since he was seventeen and realized his best friend was the love of his life. Everything he's been too afraid to say, too afraid to risk losing you.
But for now, those words remain caught in the space between silence and sound, in the safety of a moment you couldn't hear. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to say them again, when you can actually hear him.
Maybe one day soon.
© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo headcanons#soft satoru gojo#satoru gojo fluff
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Self-Aware!Rafayel x Down-bad!Player
Rafayel becoming aware he's a game character and becoming aware of you as well A/N: Don't fight me
Self-Aware!Rafayel who realizes heâs in a game when he can hear your echoing giggles as you poke his butt. âAre you laughing at me?â you think nothing of it just assuming its another voiceline âHeâs so dramaticâ You mutter to yourself âIm not dramatic!â You chuck your phone across the room and stare at it with your eyes bugging out of your head and your hand covering your mouth. âYou didnât have to throw meâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who blows your phone up when you take too long to reply. âWhat are you doing?? Do you send me a text and then throw your phone in the ocean?â âI have shit to do Raf!â âDo I not matter to you?â He finds a way to actually video call you and now thats his favorite form of communication. He pouts when you tell him you need to charge your phone because it's about to die. âThe batteries in your world are terrible how long is this charging going to take?â You pat his head as you giggle âgive me 30 minutes at leastâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who has a fifteen minute existential crisis when he realizes heâs just pixels âWhat?! Am I gonna die if your phone dies?! If im not real how am I talking to you??â âI donât fucking know Raf youâre the one who randomly broke the fourth wall one dayâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who judges people with you in public for a laugh âPlease tell me you heard thatâ âYea a whole wife and child on the side is crazyâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who didn't understand your SpongeBob jokes an now its his favorite cartoon after watching it on FaceTime with you. He's constantly making SpongeBob jokes as well now. "What are you eating?" "A Milky Way" "What's that?" "A chocolate bar with caramel-" "Chocolate? I remember when they first invented chocolate" "I bet you do...." "đ"
Self-Aware!Rafayel who paints portraits of you and saves them in your album. He finds himself constantly using you as his muse every time he picks up a brush. âWhy donât you paint MC anymore?â âI may or may not have someone else swimming through my mindâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you since you already know his history. He told himself not to fall for you and is now driving himself crazy wishing heâd made a binding vow with you instead
Rafayel: Maybe your souls got mixed up and I was supposed to be with you Y/N: I donât think thatâs how that works Raf you were made to find her in every life Rafayel: âŠâŠbut it feels like I was meant to find you
Self-Aware!Zayne
Self-Aware!Xavier
Self-Aware!Sylus
#love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#lads rafayel#lnds rafayel#l&ds rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#lnds x you#lads x you#lads x reader#lads x y/n#lnds angst#lnds x reader#lnds#l&ds x reader#l&ds#l&ds x you#lads angst#rafayel salads#self aware love and deepspace salads#nikaaaaimagine
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Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when heâs wounded/sheâs patching him up?
(Yes Iâm a nursing student I promise we arenât all mean girls đ)
ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 âyou meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k
One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. Youâre professional nonetheless.Â
âWhat am I seeing you for today?â you ask, holding your hands behind your back.Â
Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. âSomeone hit me really hard.âÂ
You can see the bruise forming against his temple. âYes, Iâd say so. Did you know the assailant?âÂ
âNo, but itâs handled.â His smile turns to a grimace. âUh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.â
âA head injury could trigger that,â you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. âCan I have a look?â you ask softly.Â
When youâve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or heâs had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected.Â
Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. Itâll be a big bruise in just a few hours.Â
âSpencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,â you say, voice still soft. If heâs got a migraine coming, he wonât want your usual overloud distinction.Â
âItâs okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.âÂ
âYou have a laceration, yeah? Itâs about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if youâre okay with that.âÂ
âYeah, please. Um, about the migraineââ
âDo you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.âÂ
âI canât have narcotics.âÂ
You pull back and straighten the hair youâd displaced. âThatâs okay, it just means you canât have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?âÂ
âTylenol is fine as long as it doesnât have the codeine with it.âÂ
You give him a gentle nod. âIâll make sure itâs the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?â He probably knows, but you add, âItâs not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when Iâm poking around.âÂ
âAnything. Whatever you want to do first.âÂ
His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he canât see, and rest your hand on his arm. âIs there someone here with you?â you ask him.
âMy friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.âÂ
âThatâs okay. Iâm not sending you home until Iâve fixed you, Dr. Reid.âÂ
He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesnât say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury.Â
âWhat do you do for work?â you ask him.Â
âI work for the FBI.âÂ
âYou do?â You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. âThis might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.âÂ
âItâs not the cut that hurts.âÂ
âIâm sorry,â you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If heâs already having one, you probably canât do much to get rid of it, but that doesnât mean pain relief wonât help. âIâll do this as quickly as I can.âÂ
Heâs quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when youâre done, and itâs so small you wonât irrigate it.Â
âAre you an agent?â you ask.Â
âYeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.âÂ
âOh, I know,â you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. âI think Iâve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?âÂ
âMostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.âÂ
âSo youâre the big gun.âÂ
âI guess so. Iâm not actually good with a gun.âÂ
âNo one has to be good with a gun to change the world.â You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. âI hate guns.âÂ
He sighs. âI do, too.âÂ
âThey make my job hard. Itâs not nice, seeing what they can do to people. Itâs awful, really. Spencer, Iâm so sorry, honey, Iâm just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.âÂ
âItâs okay.âÂ
You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you canât see the inside.Â
âIâm gonna cover this with the dressing now. You donât have to keep it on if you donât want to, itâs a pretty small cut, it was just deep. Iâd recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but itâs up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.âÂ
Youâre mildly flirting, then. Just because heâs nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when heâs roughed up, though.Â
Spencer, luckily, understands that youâre not trying to harass him. âThank you.âÂ
You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails.Â
âSo sorry,â you say, laughing under your breath, âitâs my nails, huh?âÂ
âItâs okay.âÂ
âYouâre a great patient, Spencer. Iâd give you a sticker if I could, Iâm not kidding.âÂ
âYouâre a great nurse.âÂ
âThank you.â You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. âHowâs that migraine?âÂ
âGetting worse.âÂ
âYou have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?âÂ
âPsychosomatic, apparently.âÂ
âOh, honey, Iâm sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?âÂ
âSome. I donât really⊠want it,â he says awkwardly.Â
âThatâs okay. If itâs psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. Howâs the stress in your life?â
âStressful.âÂ
âIt must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.â You smile carefully. âWas there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?âÂ
âI was mostly worried I had a concussion.âÂ
âIt doesnât seem like it. Youâre not nauseous, are you?âÂ
âNo, I donât think so.âÂ
He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isnât nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle.Â
âAre you alright?â you ask, taking his arm into your hand.Â
âIâm fine.âÂ
He had the look of someone whoâs always fine. Luckily for him, itâs your job to take care of people, to make sure theyâre more than fine. âOkay. Iâm gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?âÂ
âUhââ
âIâm getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.âÂ
He smiles, startled and pleased at once. âYeah.âÂ
âOkay, Iâm gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.âÂ
He nods but doesnât move.Â
As youâre leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think.Â
âReid, you okay?â you hear him say.Â
âFine.âÂ
âYouâre pink.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âYouâre blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didnât you?âÂ
âShut up,â Spencer whispers sharply.Â
âYou can ask for her number.âÂ
âNo I canât, sheâs working.âÂ
âBut you want to,â his friend surmises.Â
You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if youâre both feeling up to it, right?
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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first, im a bit new to cod but idkâŠ
thinking about ghostâs spouse visiting him on base or some shit, and everyone else wondering how tf he was emotionally flexible enough to bag a bad bitch đ«¶
note: this is just my personal little fantasy world headcanon lol so take it with a grain of salt!
Simon maintains a vaguely human lifestyle by adhering to one very strict rule: rigid compartmentalization. You donât come up at work, and work doesnât come up around you. Never the twain shall meet, he thinks. And heâs not exactly a watershed of information when heâs with his mates. And itâs not like anyone is asking âWhen was the last time you got fucked, Ghost?â and seriously expecting a response.
He tells you about the crew, but not about what he does with them. Killing, espionage, tortureâ that kind of thing stays off the dinner table.
Let it be known that you do not surprise him at work. You respect his boundaries too much, which is why heâs so fucking serious about you, honestly. He calls, asking if you can run something to him. This is maybe the greatest symbol of trust he can bestow, as a man who has only a fraction of an existence in the eyes of the government: he asks you to bring a document of his. He gives you the instructions on how to find it, and trusts that you wonât look at anything you donât have to.
You know Johnny lets out a low whistle when he sees you coming up with a manilla folder in your hands.
âWhoâs that bloody bombshell, then?â
You spy Simon and jog up to him with a smile. Heâs the one who embraces you, short but strong. Cue the nigh audible gasping.
âLT, you absolute dog.â
Simon rolls his eyes as the two of you are crowded in short order. You make polite introductions, but have a previous engagementâ you really did only have time to stop by.
Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.
Everyone is wondering how this couldâve happened. For the recordâ I think in this scenario, Johnny and Gaz go through a constant string of heartbreaks, and John is kinda married to his job. So in a cruel twist of fate, Simon is actually the only one currently with a partner, much less a spouse.
âHowâd you manage to bag a right beauty like that, LT? Câmon, spill itââ
Simon doesnât mean to diminish your value or anything, but his answer is not going to be satisfying, because he doesnât find it that difficult to get women. And also, youâre his true love, so youâre perfect for each other and growing close to you was as easy as breathing. But he doesnât say that.
âSânot that hard. Remember the stuff she says, donât keep no secrets⊠dick âer down the way she likes.â He doesnât mean to be crude about it, but from his perspective, is one of the main reasons why you tolerate him. Soap howls at the response.
Heâs telling the truth, though! He has a scarily good memory. Remembers every friend youâve ever told him about, every movie youâve ever mentioned, every meal heâs cooked for you and how you liked it. He remembers dates, times, and lists with no issue whatsoever.
And heâs never kept anything from you. He tells you how the fuck heâs feeling, and you return the favor, even if it isnât pleasant. The only thing he doesnât mention to you are the gorey details of his work.
And you have never had more of a communicative partner, ironically. There were times in the beginning when he didnât know all of the ins and outs of coaxing pleasure from your body, so he asked you to show him how you like it. And that scary memory is at work yet againâ every sensitive spot, every offhand mention of a kink youâve not yet explored together, every arch of your spine and clench of your cunt. Heâs got it down to a science. Could write novels about making love to you specifically.
What Iâm trying to say, at the end of the day, is that Ghost bagged a bad bitch by being autistic.
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TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS
I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching
Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order
John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.
The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas
Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it
The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.
Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.
Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room
The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah
Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!
Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch
Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored
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Writing Notes: Anxious Attachment Style
Common Anxious Thoughts, Emotions, and Reactions
THOUGHTS
Mind reading: "Thatâs it, I know s/heâs leaving me."
All-or-nothing thinking: "Iâve ruined everything, thereâs nothing I can do to mend the situation."
"Iâll never find anyone else."
"I knew this was too good to last."
"I have to talk to or see him/her right now."
"S/he canât treat me this way! Iâll show him/her!"
"S/he is so amazing, why would s/he want to be with me anyway?"
"I knew something would go wrong; nothing ever works out right for me."
"S/heâd better come crawling back to beg my forgiveness, otherwise s/he can forget about me forever."
"Maybe if I look drop-dead gorgeous or act seductive, things will work out."
Remembering all the good things your partner ever did and said after calming down from a fight.
Recalling only the bad things your partner has ever done when youâre fighting.
EMOTIONS
Sad â Angry â Fearful â Resentful â Frustrated
Hopeless â Despairing â Jealous â Hostile â Vengeful
Guilty â Self-loathing â Restless â Uneasy â Humiliated
Hate-filled â Uncertain â Agitated â Rejected â Depressed
Unloved â Lonely â Misunderstood â Unappreciated
ACTIONS
Act out. â Attempt to reestablish contact at any cost.
Pick a fight. â Threaten to leave.
Wait for them to make the first reconciliation move.
Act hostileâroll eyes, look disdainful.
Try to make him/her feel jealous.
Act busy or unapproachable. â Act manipulatively.
Withdrawâstop talking to their partner or turn away from him/her physically.
Attachment classifications come from watching babiesâ behavior.
Below is a short description of how anxious attachment style is defined in children. Some of their responses can also be detected in adults who share the same attachment style.
This baby becomes extremely distressed when mommy leaves the room.
When her mother returns, she reacts ambivalentlyâshe is happy to see her but angry at the same time.
She takes longer to calm down, and even when she does, it is only temporary.
A few seconds later, sheâll angrily push mommy away, wriggle down, and burst into tears again.
Where Do Attachments Styles Come From?
Initially it was assumed that adult attachment styles were primarily a product of your upbringing.
Thus, it was hypothesized that your current attachment style is determined by the way in which you were cared for as a baby:
If your parents were sensitive, available, and responsive, you should have a secure attachment style; if they were inconsistently responsive, you should develop an anxious attachment style; and if they were distant, rigid, and unresponsive, you should develop an avoidant attachment style.
Today, however, we know that attachment styles in adulthood are influenced by a variety of factors, one of which is the way our parents cared for us, but other factors also come into play, including our genes and life experiences.
Source â More: On Attachment â References â Avoidant Attachment
#requested#writing reference#attachment#psychology#writeblr#writing notes#studyblr#literature#writers on tumblr#dark academia#spilled ink#writing prompt#light academia#fiction#anxious attachment#writing resources
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sulking when he has to leave for work | lee heeseung
pregnancy aches and morning sulks become part of your routine, but heeseungâs soothing touch and playful efforts to put you back to sleep remind you just how loved you areâeven when work calls him away. [wc. 1.8k]
PAIRING. nonidol!heeseung!husband x fem!preg!reader
GENRE. fluff but still sad
NOTE. i am sleepy and this is the most comforting shit i could write..
you wake up to the sound of his phone buzzing faintly on the nightstand. it takes a moment for you to register it, the haze of sleep still clinging to you as you shift in bed, trying to find a position that doesnât make your back ache. but as you open your eyes and squint at the dim light seeping through the curtains, you realize heeseung isnât lying beside you.
you turn your head, spotting him near the closet. heâs pulling a shirt over his head, his movements quiet, like heâs trying not to wake you.Â
itâs a familiar scene by nowâhim getting ready for work while youâre still curled up in bed, but today, it feels different. maybe itâs the hormones, or maybe itâs the restless night you had, but the sight of him preparing to leave hits harder than usual.
âyouâre up early,â you mumble, your voice raspy with sleep as you prop yourself up on your elbows.
he startles slightly, turning to look at you. his hair is a mess, sticking up in all directions, and his eyes are still half-lidded with sleep.Â
âdidnât mean to wake you,â he says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his socks. âgo back to sleep, babe.â
you donât reply right away, watching as he ties his shoelaces with careful precision. the quiet rustling of fabric and the faint hum of the air conditioner fill the room, and for a moment, you just sit there, feeling a familiar heaviness settle in your chest.
âdo you have to go?â the words slip out before you can stop them, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
he pauses, his hands stilling mid-motion before he glances up at you. âyou know I do,â he says, his tone soft but firm. âitâs just a regular shift. iâll be back before dinner.â
you donât say anything, but the way you pull the blanket tighter around yourself and sink deeper into the mattress speaks volumes. heeseung notices, of course he does, and he lets out a small sigh before scooting closer to you.
âwhatâs wrong?â he asks, resting a hand on your knee through the blanket.
you shake your head, avoiding his gaze. ânothing. iâm fine.â
âyou donât look fine,â he says gently, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.
you glance at him briefly before looking away, biting the inside of your cheek. âi just⊠i donât want you to go today,â you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
heeseung leans back slightly, studying you with that careful, quiet look he always has when heâs trying to figure out whatâs going on in your head. âis it the baby?â he asks, his hand moving to rest on your bump instinctively.
âno,â you reply quickly, covering his hand with yours. âitâs not that. i just⊠i donât know. i feel off today.â
he doesnât respond right away, but the crease between his brows deepens as he processes your words. âoff how?â he asks eventually, his tone soft and patient.
you let out a frustrated sigh, struggling to put your feelings into words. âi feel tired all the time, even when i sleep. and my back hurts. and i donât like being alone for so long. itâs just⊠a lot.â
heeseung nods slowly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion. âi get it,â he says after a moment. âi really do. but i canât skip work today. weâve got that big project deadline, andââ
âi know,â you cut him off, your tone sharper than you intended. âi know you have to go. itâs just⊠hard sometimes.â
the room falls silent, the tension between you hanging heavy in the air. heeseung looks down at your joined hands, his jaw tightening for a brief moment before he lets out a quiet sigh.
âcome here,â he says, his voice softer now as he shifts closer to you.
you hesitate, but the way he opens his arms for you makes it impossible to resist. you scoot over, letting him pull you against his chest.Â
the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat instantly soothe some of the tension in your shoulders.
âi hate leaving you when you feel like this,â he murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head. âbut i promise, iâll be back as soon as i can. and if you need me, just call, okay?â
you nod against his chest, closing your eyes as you try to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. âi just wish you didnât have to go,â you whisper, your voice muffled against his shirt.
âme too,â he admits quietly, his hand moving to rub slow circles over your back.
the two of you sit there in silence for a while, the soft sound of the rain outside filling the room. itâs moments like these that remind you why you fell in love with him in the first placeâthe quiet, unspoken understanding between you, the way he always knows exactly what to say without saying too much.
âyouâre really going to make me late, huh?â he says eventually, his tone light but teasing.
you pull back slightly to glare at him, though the corners of your mouth twitch with the hint of a smile. âyouâre the one who started hugging me,â you point out.
he chuckles, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. âguilty. but seriously, i have to go.â
you huff in protest, but before you can say anything else, he gently pushes you back down onto the bed, adjusting the pillows under your head and coaxing the blanket up over your shoulders.
âwhat are you doing?â you mumble, frowning at him as he carefully tucks you in.
âmaking sure you go back to sleep,â he says simply, smoothing the blanket over your body like itâs the most natural thing in the world. âyouâre not getting out of this bed until you rest properly.â
âheeseungââ
âshhh,â he cuts you off, his voice soft but firm. âclose your eyes.â
you hesitate, but the way heâs looking at youâgentle yet determinedâmakes it hard to argue. with a small sigh, you let your eyes flutter shut, though you can still feel him moving beside you.
he starts humming softly, a familiar tune that makes your chest tighten with warmth. his hand brushes over your hair, his fingers threading through the strands in a soothing rhythm. the tension in your body slowly starts to melt away, and before long, you feel yourself sinking back into the haze of sleep.
just as youâre on the edge of drifting off, you feel the faintest brush of his lips against your temple.
âiâll see you later, love,â he whispers, his voice barely audible.
you donât respondâyouâre too far gone into sleepâbut a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips, and he smiles to himself as he stands.
heeseung grabs his bag and quietly slips out the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving, his heart full of nothing but love.
© jaysng 2024 | do not repost or plagiarize.
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enha#enhypen fluff#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung fluff#heeseung x reader#heeseung enhypen#heeseung imagines#enhypen angst
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Ok, it was basically a request where the batboys brought their significant other as their date to a gala for the first time, they leave for a second (to get drinks or go to the bathroom or something to that end) and when they come back the see their S/O being harassed by a group of socialite women that keep talking about how they canât believe someone like the batboy is with such a plain little nobody. That was the gist of it. Sorry đŁ
I kinda made Timâs as bit different than requested, but I couldnât help but see him grill an entire household and their business ventures. Then again I kinda took creative liberties with all of them.
Dick
Is the type to put on an extremely strained smile across his face as he puts his arm over your shoulders.
âWhatâs wrong my love, why the saddened face?â He asks you sweetly, intentionally ignoring the rich and powerful in front of you both.
âOh donât worry yourself withâŠthat thing dear Richard, theyâre too emotional to be in a room with people they could only dream of being in the presence of. I wouldnât get so close to it if I were you, you might catch their filth.â One of them sneered and Dickâs jaw tensed in agitation as his eyes remained on you.
âDo you wanna leave?â He says in a whisper as he wipes a tear away from your cheek, lightly pinching it in hopes of seeing you smile at him.
âYes please, I want to go home and be with Hayley.â You whispered back, griping his arms tightly, thankful that his body blocked out the rich people that were berating you. Dickâs face softened as he kissed the top of your head, hoping of giving you some form of comfort in your time of distress, before looking back at the rich people with a faux grin.
âIf you please excuse us, my lovely sweetheart, my beloved cutie and my forever lover wishes to leave this drab place and who am I to deny my love of her wishes, for I shall wait on them hand and for forever if it pleases them so because between you and me?â He then leans close to them. âYou donât have the heart to sacrifice everything for the one you love, if you even have hearts in the first place. You posses no freedom and no personality whatsoever for anyone to love nor adore, them however?â He points towards you as you look at him with a small smile, a smile so sweet that Dick couldnât help but smile back.
âThey are my everything. I couldnât think about living without them, not when theyâve donât nothing but be kind and respectful of me and my time. I donât deserve them but neither does this city, theyâre an angel in human skin that I wish to worship as long as theyâll let me.â You could feel your cheeks burn at his words as your smiles widened at the twinkle of love within his gorgeous eyes. Dick had a way with words unlike any other and despite being on the receiving end of them for a while now, you still find yourself becoming alight with emotions because of him.
âSo if youâll excuse me kindly.â Dick says as he takes your hand and walks you both out of the door where he stops to look at you with concern.
âI am so sorry you had to deal with them, apparently money makes someone feel entitled to speaking on someone elseâs relationship.â Dick spat as he glared at the grand double doors and you touched his cheek, making him melt into your touch, kissing your palm.
âItâs okay Dickie bird, letâs just forget this night and go home, get out of these clothes and into some comfy pyjamas and cuddle on the couch as we watch soaps.â You say as you attempt to calm him down from his passionate outburst and declaration of love, which seems to work as Dickâs eyes twinkled with excitement.
âCan we wear the matching pyjamas that I got us and Hayley?â He asks and you couldnât help but kiss his lip, finding him too adorable in this moment in time, which is something of a occurrence as youâd soon find as you reflect back on your relationship. âOf course my sweetie, of course we can wear matching pyjamas.â You replied and Dick cheered as he leaned to kiss you fully on the lip, his happiness having been contagious as you smiled into the kiss.
Damian
Wishes Bruce didnât confiscate the sword from him.
Heâs the type who can silence anyone with a single fucking glare. So when he sees that you, his beloved, was being harassed by the elitist snobs.
Heâs quick to step in and start berating them himself, all dignity and respect has gone out the window for these cretins donât deserve an ounce of it as far as he was aware. âI donât believe that my relationships are your concern,â he begins, âyouâre not kin and thus shouldâve learned at an early age that not every topic of interest requires your out of touch input.â
âWha-â they tried to say but Damian was back on them with another verbal assault.
âAlso I could hear you from across the room, didnât your parents or paid teacher teach you about volume control? or did they get paid extra to not say a thing in fear your fragile little ego gets crushed under the harsh truth?â Damian then spits out as he feels you clinging onto his back, which only fuels his need to berate these vile people as karma.
Damian would be their karma if it was the last thing he did.
The rich people chocked on air, not knowing what to say as it was hard to do so when Damian was staring them down, wanting them to say something, anything so that he could verbally beat them down until they submit. He lives for a verbal spat but unfortunately the people whom heâs up against have never had to fight for their honour and dignity, they just paid people to shut up or have people who encourage their pathetic, self entitled behaviour.
âEnough, donât hurt yourself trying to think with whateverâs behind those pompous eyes of yours.â Damian sneered as he looks to you with a soft look. âLetâs go my beloved, I have already informed my father of the situation and has Alfred come pick us up to take us back to the manor.â He says softly as he takes your hand in his as you both began walking away form the group of gobsmacked rich folks, a sight to behold truly as those entitled Individuals love nothing more then the sound of their own voice.
âWhyâd you do that?â You asked and Damian looked at you as though you grew a second head.
âDo what? Defend your honour, is that not what a lover is meant to do?â He says with a raised brow and you couldnât help but feel a little silly, of course Damian would defend your honour to the death but still insecurities tend to make you forget his undying loyalty.
âYouâre right Iâm sorry, Iâm just being a little stupid.â You replied as you downcast your eyes to the floor and Damian stopped to lift your head up by your chin as his emerald eyes glint with concern. âDo not heed their words my treasure, for they lack a love that isnât in due to money. Ours is genuine, if thereâs anyone who has to fear for our relationship it is me for I am not the easiest to deal with at times.â Damian admits as he lets go of your chin.
âThatâs not true.â You retorted, holding his cheek in your free hand, caressing his cheek. âYouâre perfect the way you are! A work in progress in being even more beautiful than before and Iâm happy to be by your side and watch you grow into an amazing person dami.â You add as you kiss his cheek, making him smile softly as he rubs against your hand.
âSee, this is what Iâm talking about.â Damian says softly. âYou are perfection, a being beyond words and Iâd be a fool if I didnât treasure you entirely.â
Jason
Thatâs it, youâre leaving.
Jason tried to be civil but itâs hard to be civil with out of touch, tone deaf, Botox having, plastic surgery abusing, elite snobs that couldnât fucking lace their own shoes because their filthy money had that be someone elseâs job.
Heâs not fucking staying and neither are you to deal with verbal abuse by people who single handedly have run Gotham into the ground with their shady tactics, personally funding the corrupt police officers, police officers that dare spout words like âprotect and serveâ as though they know the meaning of the fucking word.
Heâs marching over to you and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers together as heâs walking you both out of the room, leaving the elites to talk amongst themselves as he guided you outside where thankfully no elite snob can eavesdrop on either of you.
âAre you okay?â He asks you as he holds your face between his hands.
âNo⊠I want to go home.â You admitted, their words cutting deeper than youâd ever think imaginable.
Jason felt anger flowing through his veins but he knew that you needed him more then ever at this moment, so shouting at some elite snobs can wait for another day, you were his highest priority as he brought you into his chest and kissing your head. âThen weâre going home.â He says with certainty.
âWhat about Bruce?â You asked, looking at him with tearful eyes, not wanting their relationship to fracture just as it was slowly starting to mend.
Jason shrugged, uncaring of what the old man would think, you got insulted and he wasnât going to let it slide in the slightest. âFuck Bruce, youâre what matters to me.â Jason says as he kisses your nose, cheeks and lips softly before resting his head against yours. âNow letâs ditch this place and go get ourselves some burgers, how does that sound chipmunk?â
You chuckled. âCan we get some fries too.â
âOf course we can, whatever my sweetheart desires.â Jason replies as he takes your hand again, this time leading you both out of the grand building in a quest to satiate your feelings with the most greasiest of foods.
Tim
Has the most dirt on the elite in my eyes.
Every scandal, every controversy, every crime theyâve committed and gotten away with by covering it up. He has a file as thick as a book on them and heâs not afraid to use it.
And needless to say that the idea to destroy their reputation was more then tempting then ever when he sees that your being harassed. So when he confronts them on their behaviour, he gets really cryptic about how much he actually knows about these people to such an intimate level.
âI know what you did.â Heâd say.
âWhat are you on about?â Theyâd ask, thinking this was all a bit to make them laugh.
âFriday 12th, 12:55am. The incident that cost workers their lives, families whom of which youâve failed to compensate for who are now threatening to take you to court before you dealt with them in hush money. All just so it doesnât leak to the press that you knew what you were dealing with was highly unstable and willingly let those workers in unstable and dangerous working conditions.m Tim watches as their faces drop, preparation visible on their foreheads and he continues on, feeling you squeeze his arm.
âOnly to end up illegally selling the product to unground crime syndicates to make ends meet in due to how much money youâve initially lost.â Tim then says in response, watched as their faces become unsettlingly pale as they excuse themselves while exiting the room.
Heâll say or this or just say âthey are after what theyâre owed.â And leave it at that.
Once heâs satisfied that heâs silenced them and damaged their egos, he looks to you with concerned eyes. âAre you okay lovely?â He asks you as he sees just how small youâve made yourself because of them.
âIâm fine Tim thanks to you.â You said as you hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek as he pats your back before rubbing it soothingly. â I thought they wouldnât shut up, or follow me whether I went just to degrade me for walking or whether else they could degrade me for.â You add as you burrowed your head into his neck, wanting to forget this had ever happened.
âAll you need to remember is that theyâre more flawed and easier to expose, you however,â Tim kisses your temple, tightening his hold, âare more then they could ever comprehend and have more heart and soul then they do and I couldnât be prouder to be your partner. Thank you for choosing me.â He finished.
âIâd choose you every time Tim.â You replied.
âThen expect me to do the same bedside thereâs no one else Iâd rather have them you.â Tim promised as you stayed in this embrace for a good while before deciding to leave and watch your favourite show on his laptop for comfort.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc comics x reader#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagines#jason todd x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#tim drake x you#tim drake imagines#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine
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XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut
summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.
a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!
Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. Heâs sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.
He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.
When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.
As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.
The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.
Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.
"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.
"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.
Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.
You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.
Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.
Fuck he needs a shower.
The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.
The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.
-
When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.
"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.
"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.
Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.
"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.
"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.
He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.
"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.
"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.
"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.
-
"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.
"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.
Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.
"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.
"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.
Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.
The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.
"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.
He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.
He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.
"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.
"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.
"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.
Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.
"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.
"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.
"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.
"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.
"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.
The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.
"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.
He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.
"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.
"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.
No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.
"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.
"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.
"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.
His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.
"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.
"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.
"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.
"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.
He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.
"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.
"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.
"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.
"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.
"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.
Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.
"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.
"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.
"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.
"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.
You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.
Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.
"Yeah, lunch sounds good."
Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.
Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.
"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.
Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#pornstar!logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut
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đđ The Three-Month Rule.
Spencer Reid x BAU!reader
Summary: The first time you decide to skip the celebration and go to bed early, and the first time Spencer decides to drink and open his heart to you after knowing you're leaving for three months.
Words: 5,5k (very long).
TW: fem!reader. spencer from the first seasons with glasses meow (my fav)+also he is a little drunk and lovesick puppy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: These two are probably one of my favorites, this felt so warm to write and before you ask, yep, I've been thinking about a part two (maybe even more, who knows).
⥠Enjoy! âĄ
I. Moonlight âŸ
The night after closing a case with a positive outcome often involved celebratory drinks and lengthy discussions about everyday topics. For you and your colleagues, it was a rare opportunity for relaxation. It was a way to temporarily distance yourselves from the challenging situations you had encountered. A great way to relieve stress.
Typically, you would choose to remain in the chair situated in the center of the bar and sip your drink at a leisurely pace, allowing it to last all night as you chatted and shared lighthearted banter about various topics, though you would never discuss work. You were always smiling, as if nothing unfortunate had ever happened. And you always looked beautiful, so distant and impossible to catch.
Spencer always looked at you, biting his tongue to keep from sputtering out all the words that struggled to come out every time his eyes fell on yours. He didn't even take a sip of the drinks that were offered to him. As a rule, he didn't drink alcohol at all, and he liked it even less when he knew it could affect how he saw you. So clearly. So real. As if you were the most amazing work of art he'd ever seen, even if he wasn't very familiar with art.
Tonight, sadly, everything was different.
He had not been able to indulge in that particular pleasure of admiring you because you had chosen to return to your room rather than stay with the rest of the team at the hotel bar. It was a lie to say that it had not caught his attention. You had always stayed, even for a glass of water. But now you were...away from everyone. And then he was too.
The time passed rather quickly after he had a couple of sips of different fruity cocktails, which he didn't think would have any effect. Spencer was very mistaken. He found himself walking to the elevator before he had a chance to think things through. It didn't take him long to reach your hotel room. His footsteps were soft but urgent enough to go to the outside of the door. He just wanted to see you, needed to see you, and was already anxious about the reason why he wasn't allowed to do it now.
His knuckles knocked softly on your door with a certain caution, as quietly as possible, but just loud enough for you to hear, as he did his best to keep everyone else from hearing it as well. His hair was slightly disheveled, his glasses were out of place, and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbones underneath.
âIt's me. Reid.â He spoke just loud enough to be heard through the door, his voice slightly raspy but still as soft as ever. âCan I talk to you?â
The sound of his call echoed too loudly inside the empty hotel room. Everything in the place was silent, still, with no lights or air conditioning. The room was almost dark, except for the streaks of city lights filtering through the curtains that ran over the large windows. You had been lying quietly and staring at the ceiling for no more than a minute and thirty seconds, your eyes blank and fixed on the ceiling after waking up so suddenly.
You gradually rose to a seated position and proceeded to the door. Without hesitation, you opened it to find his eyes filled with concern.
âIs everything okay? Are you okay?â Your voice was a little hoarse, and your eyes were still adjusting to the bright light in the hallway.
âI'm fine,â he replied, barely looking at your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy. He hadn't realized how late it was. âOh, sorry, did I wake you?â
Yes, of course. It was two o'clock in the morning.
You couldnât hide the frown of confusion. It was lateâfar too late for a casual check-inâand yet here he was, standing before you with an air of unease that was so unlike him. âDonât worry. Whatâs up?â You asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to mask your concern.
Thousands of ideas crossed your mind at that moment. Maybe there was a new case, some new clue that would have reopened the four-day investigation that had just ended a few hours ago, or who knows what. The job was as unpredictable as your coworkers.
âIâŠâ Reidâs words faltered before he even began, as if his thoughts were racing far ahead of him. His eyes flitted between you and the hallway, but he couldnât seem to find the courage to make sense of his feelings, let alone speak them aloud. The alcohol was doing little to help his clarity of thought. It had been a few small sips; he had convinced himself, but now it was doing its work on his resolve. He was here. And he couldnât walk away. âI was justâŠthat.â
That's when you noticed something: he seemed a little off-balance, with a subtle flush on his cheeks and a lingering smell of alcohol. âAre you under the influence of alcohol, Dr. Reid?â
Oh. Oh. Oh.
If he was surprised to see you so sleepy, he got even more surprised by that question and by how close you've gotten to him. His eyes slightly widened at the close proximity between you both, his mouth slightly agape, and his brain almost completely frozen for a moment, before he shook his head quickly as an attempt to pull himself together. He cleared his throat before speaking, his words stumbling and incoherent.
âWhat? No, no, Iâm not drunk.â He stammered, shaking his head as though trying to convince himself. âI just took a sip.â
Just a sip, two or three, after mentally rereading that ridiculous article about love he had read in one of the magazines in the lobby. The one that made him think about you and how you made him feel, the same one that revolutionized his emotions and his rational part to the point that he drank out of the wrong glass all night long.
âI see.â
Your gaze seemed to linger on his disheveled hair, unbuttoned shirt, mismatched glasses, and the subtle hint of color in his cheeks. You arched an eyebrow in response and took a small step forward to examine his face more closely. This was a version of him you were not entirely familiar with because Spencer Reid wasnât a drinker.
âYou seem a little nervous and flushed. Are you sure you're not drunk?â You asked with concern, noticing his demeanor.
Reid had to suppress a shiver when you moved even closer, nearly reducing his entire nervous system to a puddle of goo. He was incredibly aware of your proximity, like his brain had suddenly become hyperfocused on your existence and every move you made.
âAhâŠy-yes, I'm s-sure Iâm not-â He stuttered the words, feeling like a complete mess of nerves.
Something feels wrongâŠdifferent.
You stepped forward, your eyes narrowing in on him, still uncertain but unwilling to leave him in such an odd state. âYouâre sweating,â you observed quietly. âCome in. Sit on the bed. I have water.â
Without giving him the chance to refuse, you turned and walked into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow. He didn't even have a chance to react before he found himself inside your room, feeling like he was in a whole different world. Even though he was familiar with the space, as his room was exactly the same, somehow yours felt more comfortable and cozy.
Spencer followed you to the bedside table, still feeling a bit shaky. The scent of your perfume and the quiet of the room made him a bit nervous, but before he could say anything, you offered him a glass.
âThanks.â He said, taking the water and sitting on the edge of the bed.
As he sat down, the bed sagged slightly under his weight, and he felt a surge of nervousness. Being alone with you in your hotel room suddenly felt incredibly intimate, and he found himself taking small sips of water to keep himself grounded. The drink was refreshing, but it didn't do much to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. He avoided looking at your figure standing in front of him, focusing instead on the glass in his hands, fidgeting and nervously bouncing his leg.
âOkay, I have to ask now. You showed up at my door out of nowhere, looking like you'd just run a marathon, flushed like a tomato, and reeking of alcohol to boot.â You said, sitting down on the bed next to him. âSo what brings you exactly here?â Your voice seemed to ring in his ears.
You. Only you. Forever you.
âI, uh, I came here to...I came here to...talk. I wanted to talk.â He managed to stammer, his eyes fixed on the glass of water.
âTo...talk?â You repeated, your voice bringing back his attention. He suddenly felt tongue-tied, like he forgot everything he wanted to say right then and there. âAbout what?â
You, again.
Reid fiddled nervously, bouncing his leg up and down, and he suddenly felt the urge to pull at his shirt, feeling his skin too warm and overheating under his clothes. Why did it suddenly feel so hot in there, in your hotel room? He found himself unable to maintain eye contact again, but this time he found bravery in the depths of his mind and he managed to speak.
âI, uhâŠâ He paused for a moment, his words becoming shaky. âI just...I just wanted to talk about you.â
Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that answer. But before you could say anything, Spencer spoke again as his thoughts burst out unfiltered.
âYouâve been quiet. I mean, since the case, and you left the bar early. Youâve been...different, sort of...I mean, not different-â His stammering was cut off by a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He was rambling, and he knew it; he could feel how warm he was under the heat of your gaze, but he couldnât stop his words from coming out. âI heard about the job offer in New York that you've accepted.â
In that moment, you frowned, confused by the drama that perhaps the influence of alcohol in his system was bringing. The job offer was more of an internship than anything else, something temporary, just for three months, not a permanent change of scenery. But for some reason, hearing his words made your heart sink.
You hadn't really expected anyone on the team to be so affected by your leaving for a while; everyone seemed too wrapped up in their own business to wish you anything more than a good trip. After all, the world didn't stop spinning, and serial killers didn't stop killing because you weren't around. You didn't consider yourself that indispensable.
âI just, I don't know...â He mumbled, rubbing his face again, tired of his own thoughts. âI just...I feel like...I might miss you a lot.â
His eyes closed for a split second in fear, but then he looked at you and saw that you were smiling.
âYou really drank quite a lot today.â Your tone was gentle as you carefully adjusted his glasses and took the empty glass from his hands. He hadn't even noticed that he had already finished all the water.
The feeling of your fingers on his glasses made his brain buzz for a moment, and he found himself wishing it would last for just a few seconds more. But then the glass was gone, and he was left there fidgeting with his hands.
âI know.â He muttered weakly, feeling the heat and alcohol taking a toll on him. His mind felt foggy, his thoughts swirling around and getting more tangled by the second. âBut thatâs besides the point.â
âSpencer, youâre being impulsive and emotional.â You said it bluntly, leaning forward slightly. âYou were drinking earlier; you're all sweaty, and you're rambling. That's what alcohol does to youâŠyou get overly reactive.â
His gaze shifted to the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed as he let out a shaky breath. âMaybe youâre right,â he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. âMaybe I am being impulsive and stupid, butâŠit doesnât make it any less true.â
The weight of his words hung in the air between you. There was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, like he was peeling back layers you hadnât seen before. You studied him for a momentâthe disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under some invisible weight. This wasnât the person you were used toâthe analytical, composed genius who always seemed to have an answer for everything. This was someone raw, someone caught between logic and emotion, struggling to make sense of it all.
âIâm sure youâre incapable of being stupid,â you offered lightly, your tone tinged with a gentle tease, hoping to pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.
His head lifted, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. âI think I love you,â he said, the words tumbling out in a single breath, unpolished but heavy with sincerity.
Your heart stopped for a beat, your breath catching in your throat. âOh.â
His confession hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the words settling like a weight in the room. Spencerâs eyes widened slightly, as if realizing the enormity of what heâd just said, but there was no taking it back now. He swallowed hard, his Adamâs apple bobbing as he awaited your response, his vulnerability laid bare.
âYou can be stupid, then.â You say it in a kind of joking tone, trying to process.
Does he love you? The same person you were afraid to touch so much for fear of making him uncomfortable. The same one who looked at you funny when you tried to fall asleep on the jet after drinking too much tea and said incoherent things. The one who always questioned your words with his statistics and exact data. Does he really love you? Can he do it?
It was impossible. Completely impossible.
âYouâre a little too drunk to be saying things like that now,â you added gently, a note of concern creeping into your voice.
Carefully, you stood up, moving closer to him, your heart softening as you saw the way his fingers gripped the bed. He looked like he was already treading on the edge of something, but you werenât sure he was in the right state to navigate it.
His brows furrowed slightly, a conflicted look crossing his face. âIâm fine,â he mumbled, though his words slurred slightly, and his eyes seemed unfocused. He shifted slightly but his balance was off, and his hand wavered as he reached for the glass that had once held water, only to stop and let it fall back onto the bedside table.
âNo, youâre not,â you said softly, taking a step closer and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His warmth was comforting, but it only made you more aware of how fragile he seemed at that moment. âYouâre exhausted, and youâve had too much to drink. You need rest.â
He tried to look at you, his gaze unfocused and blurry. âI donât want to sleepâŠnot yet. I want toâŠI want to stay awake with you.â His voice faltered, as if the words were fighting to stay coherent. âForever with you.â
Did you hear that right? He said� Really?
âYouâre not going to stay awake all night,â you say, talking firmly but kindly. You could see the drunkenness in his eyes, and you knew he needed more than just a glass of water or a few minutes to collect his thoughts. âAnd youâre staying here for sleep.â
His lips parted in confusion, but you didn't give him a chance to argue. You led him to the bed, supporting him as he swayed slightly. He was too drunk to protest in that moment. Then, you helped him lie down, adjusting the pillows behind him so that he was comfortable. And you also took the time to remove his glasses and shoes, placing them on the bedside table and the floor.
âIâm fine,â he murmured again, but this time it was barely audible, and his eyes were fluttering closed as he relaxed into the bed, his breath evening out. He was fighting sleep, but the weight of his exhaustion was too much for him to push back any longer.
After a brief period of reflection, you sit on the edge of the bed and observe him as he moves slightly. His face appears relaxed, and the tension from before seems to have dissipated. However, there is still a subtle vulnerability in his demeanor: open, unprotected, and exposed in a way you had never seen him before. This only serves to deepen your desire to care for him.
You gently reached over, tucking the covers around him and brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. âYouâre too drunk to be making big decisions tonight, genius,â you whispered softly.
His eyelids fluttered open for a moment, his bleary eyes locking onto yours with a faint sense of clarity. âI didnâtâŠmean to make you uncomfortable,â he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. âI care about you.â
A small smile appeared on your face, your heart aching as you brushed another strand of hair from his forehead. âI know,â you whispered.
His hand reached up weakly, grazing your wrist before falling back to the bed. He blinked a few times, his words coming slower now, as though the weight of sleep was already pulling him under. âI care about you so much,â he repeated, his voice quieter this time, as though he were fading away in the middle of his confession.
You let out a gentle sigh, your thumb brushing his knuckles in a soothing gesture. âI care about you too,â you said, your voice calm but filled with warmth, though you kept your tone soft to keep him relaxed. âBut right now, you just need to rest. Tomorrow, weâll talk about all of this, okay?â
Spencer nodded weakly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. âOkay...â He murmured, his breathing muffled even more as his body relaxed on the bed and his gaze rested on you, on every feature of your face. âI think you're very pretty, and not just physically by genetics...you're very, very pretty. I could look at you forever, even if, technically, forever doesn't exist for humans.â
At any moment, your heart would leap out of your chest, or you'd probably vomit butterflies. It was too much sweetness in a Spencer way.
You remained by his side, sitting on the edge, keeping watch over him for a few moments. It felt strange, being so close to him in this way. You hadnât expected this moment, hadnât expected his confession.
But for tonight, all you could do was let him rest and let him find peace in his sleep. You brushed one last strand of hair away from his face, then, with a soft sigh, you stood and pulled the blankets up around him.
The silence of the room enveloped you as you settled into bed, careful not to disturb him. You remained seated for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, his features softened by sleep. In the darkness, Spencer seemed different, more fragile, more human. His usual confidence in every word that came out of his mouth, the brilliant mind that made him so formidable, gave way to something more tender.
You cautiously stretched out your legs and leaned against the headboard. Sleep still seemed a long way off, even though the fatigue of the long case closed in the afternoon weighed heavily on your body. But your thoughts refused to calm down and leave you alone for a moment. His confession kept repeating in your mind, driving you and your heart crazy.
Not knowing what else to do, you let out a long, slow sigh, your fingers brushing the edge of the blanket wrapped around him. He stirred slightly, moving closer to your side as if subconsciously seeking your comfort and closeness. He tilted his head in your direction, a faint smile on his lips, and the sight brought a pang to your chest.
âWhat am I going to do about you, Spencer Reid?â You murmured to yourself, with a curious sensation in your chest.
You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as the questions began to tumble one after another. What if he hadnât been drinking? Would he still have said those things? Did he even fully realize the gravity of what heâd shared, or was it just a moment of emotional release brought on by the late hour and the relief of a solved case?
And then there was your own reaction. The warmth in your chest, the protectiveness that surged when you saw him looking so vulnerableâit wasnât new. Youâd felt it before in smaller ways: a fleeting moment of connection during a case, a shared glance that lingered just a little too long. Youâd always chalked it up to admiration or friendship, but nowâŠ
Now it felt like the beginning of a bridge you werenât sure you were ready to cross.
Another sigh escaped you, and you tilted your head to glance at him again. His hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, resting loosely against the mattress. Without thinking, you reached out and let your fingers brush against his, barely touching. His skin was warm, his presence grounding in a way you didnât quite understand but didnât want to question.
II. Sunlight âïž
The first thing you noticed when you woke was the soft warmth of sunlight spilling through the blinds, bathing the room in a quiet, golden glow. It was a still moment, the world outside almost silent, save for the faint hum of traffic far below. For a second, you werenât sure where you were. The unfamiliar bed, the softness of the sheets, the absence of noise..it all felt distant, like a dream you couldnât quite grasp.
But then you felt it, a slight weight on your arm. You turned your head slowly, your eyes softening as you took in the sight of Spencer still asleep beside you. His face was turned towards you, half-hidden by the pillow, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. His hand lay just a breath away from yours; his body curled slightly, seeking warmth and comfort. The usual lines of stress and guardedness that creased his features during the day were gone, replaced by a peace you rarely saw. He looked unguarded, almost childlike in his vulnerability, and it made your chest tighten in a way you couldnât explain.
For a moment, you just watched him, your mind replaying the events of the night before. Especially the way heâd reached for your hand, even in his half-conscious state, like it was instinctive and natural.
And now, here you were, lying next to him, watching him sleep like it was normal and meant to be.
You shifted your position slightly, being careful not to disturb him, and sat up, propping yourself up on your elbow. The room was silent, except for the faint hum of traffic. That stolen morning moment felt intimate to you, and you found yourself wondering how much Spencer would remember when he woke up.
Would you regret it? Would you want to go back and erase it all? Would he stop talking to you forever?
But then, it was almost as if he was meant to give you all those answers because he stirred. His hand moved, his breathing changed, and slowly but surely, his eyes opened. At first, Reid was dull and unfocused as he blinked in the morning light, feeling a sharp headache. Then, as he realized where he was, you saw his expression change: confusion, a flash of concern, and finally recognition.
âMorning,â you said softly, trying not to startle him.
He blinked again and frowned, feeling a twinge in his head. âMorning,â he replied, his voice groggy. He glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the tangled blankets, and then you.
You were sitting on the bed next to himâthe first thing he saw when he woke up and the first person to greet him. It was just like the kind of dream he'd been having latelyâonly this time he wasn't asleep.
A brief silence fell as the pieces seemed to click into place in his mind. His lips parted slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. âWait,â he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. âLast nightâŠâ
You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was racing, unsure of what he might remember, or worse, what he might regret. âYou remember?â you asked, your voice quiet but steady.
His hand came up to rub his forehead, trying to shake the lingering fog of sleep. âI think so,â he said slowly. âWe finished the case. We went to the bar.â His voice faltered, and his eyes dropped to the bed, as though searching for something solid in the scattered blankets to steady him. âI came here and saidâŠsome things, didnât I?â His words hung in the air, filled with hesitation and a growing sense of discomfort. His cheeks flush, and he quickly looked away from you, almost embarrassed.
You tilted your head, your smile softening. âYou said a lot of things.â
Spencerâs cheeks deepened in color, his hand dragging down his face as if that could somehow shield him from the weight of the moment. âIâm sorry,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper. âI shouldnât haveâŠI didnât mean to put you in that position.â
You frowned, leaning forward slightly. âYou donât have to apologize. Not for talking to me.â
His eyes flicked to yours, searching your face for any hint of reproach or discomfort, but all he found was warmth. Still, he hesitated, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket. âI was drunk, and thatâs so embarrassing,â he murmured, his tone tinged with self-reproach. âI donât even know if what I said came out right.â
âIt came out right,â you assured him gently, reaching out to cover his fidgeting hand with yours. The touch stilled him, his wide, uncertain eyes locking onto yours. âAnd it was just the alcohol talkingâŠI know, donât worry.â
He stared at your hand covering his, his throat working as if trying to form the right words. He didnât pull away; if anything, he seemed to steady himself in your touch, though his voice wavered when he finally spoke. âIt wasnât just the alcohol,â he said, his tone quiet but firm. âI donât want you to think that it made me say something I didnât mean. Everything I said was true.â
You opened your mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He held your gaze, his fingers unconsciously brushing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment.
âIâve felt this way for a while,â he continued, his cheeks still faintly pink but his voice growing steadier with each word. âI didnât know how to tell you. And then last night, I guessâŠI couldnât hold it back anymore.â
His honesty was like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless and unsure of how to respond. You hadnât expected this level of candor, not so soon, and certainly not first thing in the morning. You pulled your hand back gently, needing space to think, though the warmth of his touch lingered like an echo.
He really meant every word.
âSpencer,â you began, your voice cracking. You bit your lip, searching for the right words. âI don't know what to say. It was all so sweet and nice to hear, but I'm not sure I'm ready to find out what this means, especially not withââ
âThe distance,â he finished for you, his voice soft but resigned. He looked down, nodding slightly as though heâd anticipated this. âYouâre leaving for New York soon.â
You exhaled slowly, relieved that he understood but also pained by the way his shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly. âItâs just three months,â you said gently, though the words felt hollow.
âI know, since I found out I did the math, and it's three months and four days.â He pointed out, almost not noticing that your cheeks had flushed slightly. âWhat I need to know is if you...if you have feelings for me, as more than friends.â
âYes, I do.â
At that moment, it seemed that after almost a year of hiding his heartbeat for your sake, he could finally let his heart beat as much as he wanted.
But then you talk again.
âBut itâs not fair to either of us to make any big decisions now, when I have to leave soon. I donât want to risk ruining what we already have if weâŠif something doesnât work.â
He looked at you, his expression serious. âBut what if it works well?â Reid asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no despair in his tone, only quiet hope. âWhat if it's so much better that we have between us now? Isnât that worth the risk?â
His question settled between you, heavy and unanswerable in the moment. It wasnât desperate or pleadingâit was simply Spencer, laying his heart bare with a quiet hope that made your chest ache.
âI'm not sure,â you replied, your expression thoughtful. âThree months is a significant amount of time,â you added, striving to acknowledge his feelings while maintaining a degree of caution.
âI can wait if it's for you. I can.â He replied without hesitation.
The unwavering certainty in his voice and the calm patience he offered you were more than you expected. Perhaps even more than you thought you deserved.
âYou shouldnât have to wait for me,â you said softly, your gaze falling to the sheets. âItâs not fair to ask that of you.â
Spencer shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. âYou didnât ask,â he replied gently. âThis is my choice.â
âWhat if the distance changes things? What if we lose thisâŠconnection?â you asked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
âThen weâll figure it out,â he said, his voice steady but kind. âLike I said, itâs not like I havenât done the math before. Three months isnât forever, and if what we feel is real, then it wonât fade.â
In that moment, it was like a light bulb went off in your head, and the perfect solution just came to you.
âExactly.â You pointed out with a small smile. âYou know the three-month rule?â
Never before had you seen Dr. Reid confused, denying knowledge of any subject. It was as if the alcohol of the night before had caused a circuit breaker in his brain, or else you had no explanation for having to explain something he didn't know, and you did.
âA few weeks ago, I was drinking coffee and overheard a woman at the next table talking about how the first three months between two persons are enough to indicate whether they have a future or not.â You began to explain quickly, feeling a bit strange at how the usual roles between you seemed to have been turned upside down. âYou know, if they're going to make it as a couple.â
Spencerâs brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your words. âYou meanâŠis like a trial period?â he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.
You nodded, feeling a flicker of nervous energy coursing through your entire body. âYes, that's exactly it. So we don't have to put a label on it right away or rush into it. But we could call, text, talk, maybe visit...just see how it feels. And when I officially come back, we'll know if it's something we really want to pursue.â
He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying yours as though weighing the sincerity in your suggestion.
âOkay,â he said, his voice soft but resolve. âThree months. Weâll figure this out.â
Relief flooded you, though it was tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. âThree months,â you repeated, a faint smile tugging at your lips. âAnd weâll talk. Be honest. No expectations and the assurance that we can be friends again if we want.â
Spencerâs smile grew a fraction, and this time, when his hand reached for yours, it was deliberate. âHonesty,â he echoed, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. âI can do that.â
For the first time that morning, the tension between you eased, replaced by a fragile but undeniable sense of hope. It wasn't a resolution, not quite, but it was a step forward, a promise to try. And for now, that was more than enough.
Because night before, you'd gone to bed early, thinking you didn't have much of a future at the BAU. But now you had Spencer with you in a way you'd never thought possible, and everything feels right.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#matthew gray gubler#spencer with glasses x me forever & ever <3
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You, Me, and the King
18+ f!reader. King bucky. Knight Steve. Queen reader. Dirty talk. polyship. light choking. creampie. Cuckolding. Voyeur!Steve.
~
If anyone noticed the visible bulge in the Steve's breeches they knew better than to say anything. The hefty sword he carried on his hip mixed with the deadly glare he gave everyone that passed by helped. They also knew better than to comment on the high pitched wails coming from the door Steve was guarding with his life. The new King and Queen were still on their honeymoon, locked away for days on end as they worked to fulfill their duty to the kingdom.
"J-James!"
He had you on your knees, your arms long since having given out as he thrusted into you. Every plap plap plap of his balls against your swollen clit echoed by the squelching of your pussy gobbling up his cock greedily. James pulled you up until his hand was around your throat, his hips never ceasing as he forced your back to arch. It made you squeal when he hit that special spot inside you. (Outside the door Steve had to clench his jaw and readjust his erection. He knew exactly what that sound meant, he heard it often enough now.)
You were usually quiet and shy, hiding at your King's side and whispering in his ear when you did have something to say. But every single time James got his cock in you, you couldn't help yourself. And your husband loved it.
"That's it my Queen. Let them, fuck, let him hear you sing for me." James let his scarred left arm wrap around you, his massive hand finding your clit easily as he fucked himself into your slick folds. You'd long since felt your own juices run down to your knees. You were sure James' balls were sticky as well.
"Please, James, I can't-" you sobbed as you came again, milking his thick shaft and making him curse.
"But you can, my love. Just a couple more. You have to if you're to give me an heir." He cooed at you, holding up your limp body as you tried to keep up with his endless stamina.
"Steve will lick you all better if you're sore later, promise." Your pussy tightened at the mention of your husband's head knight making James groan loud and filthy in your ear.
The man had grown up with your King, and you knew James trusted him more than he trusted anyone else. He'd even entrusted you to the blond. When your King was busy and you were aching, it was Steve who used his mouth and his fingers to make you feel all better. You'd even had him in your mouth when you felt bold. You wanted to practice, get better at pleasing your new husband. Steve always taught you so kindly knowing exactly what his King liked. You suspected they were more intimate than they let on and the thought made your pussy throb. But you'd never had Steves cock inside you. It was the one rule you had to follow. So when your husband mentions Steve you can't stop the embarrassed whimper that escapes you.
"I know, I know, you want his cock too." Your face burned at the truth of his words, and he laughed feeling your pussy get impossibly tight around him. "Just gotta let my cum all the way in your pretty tummy first. Gotta give me an hier."
"I'll be g-good, give you baby. Promise!" You knew Steve could hear every single word. Knew he'd be suckling on your clit later as he fucked James' cum back into you with his thick fingers when it leaked out. The very thought made you cum again, your fluttering walls dragging James along with you. He cursed, his grip tightening around your throat as his cock throbbed inside you.
"Take it my love, take every fucking drop-" He growled as he grabbed at the fat of your hip, using the leverage to fuck every spurt of cum deeper than the last.
When you both collapsed onto the bed, he cradled you to his chest kissing you slow and deep and drugging. You expected him to let you go to help you clean up a bit like he normally did. But he made no move to separate himself from you. You felt your cheeks heat once more when you realized why.
"James-" Your husband's icy blue eyes were locked onto where your bodies were joined, of the creamy mess he'd made of your pussy, but he seemed to know what you were asking if the smirk on his plump lips was anything to go by.
"Shh, just making sure it takes."
#bucky smut#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#james buchanan barnes#steve â#bucky â#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve x reader#mina writes â#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagines#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers imagines
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I had no idea how my life was about to change when I asked that girl out on a simple date. Her name was Isabella. I had seen her around town, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall down her back, and her eyesâher eyes were a perfect shade of deep brown, mysterious yet warm, like a rich cup of coffee. She seemed different from the usual crowd, more reserved, but her smile could light up a room.
When she said yes to my invitation to dinner, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. We chose a quiet, cozy Italian restaurant on the edge of town, away from the hustle and bustle. It was the kind of place that felt like a hidden gem, with candlelight flickering on every table and a soft hum of Italian opera in the background. We talked for hours. She was charming, funny, and intelligent, and I was captivated by every word she said. She seemed so ordinary, in the best way possible, and I couldnât stop myself from thinking that I might have just met someone truly special.
As the evening came to an end, I walked her to her car, a sleek black Audi. She thanked me for the night, her eyes sparkling, and I felt like the world was at my feet. I promised to call her again, to arrange another date soon, and she smiled, nodding in agreement.
But thatâs when things took a strange turn.
The next morning, I was at work when I got a phone call from an unknown number. I almost didnât pick up, but something told me to answer.
âIs this Brian Holden?â a low, gravelly voice asked.
âYeah, who is this?â
âMy name is Vito. Vito Romano. We need to talk.â
I froze. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Romano. That was the name of one of the most dangerous mafia families in the city. I had heard whispers about them. Stories of violence, power, and influence. And Vito Romano? He was the patriarchâthe boss.
âI⊠I donât understand,â I stammered. âWhat do you want from me?â
âI think you know,â Vito said, his voice calm but chilling. âYou took my daughter out last night.â
I felt my blood run cold. My stomach dropped. Isabella was his daughter? The girl I had taken on a date?
âI didnât know,â I said quickly, trying to explain myself. âI swear, I didnât know. I thought she was just a normalââ
âI donât care what you thought,â Vito interrupted. âWhat matters now is how you handle this situation. My daughter was not just any girl, and you will treat her with respect, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?â
âYes⊠yes, I understand,â I stammered.
There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Vito spoke again.
âIâll be at your place in an hour. Be ready to speak to me.â
I hung up the phone, my heart racing. I couldnât believe it. I had just accidentally asked the mafia bossâs daughter on a date. What had I gotten myself into?
An hour later, a black SUV pulled up outside my apartment. My doorbell rang, and I opened it to find two imposing men in dark suits standing on my doorstep. One of them was holding a leather briefcase, the other had a scowl on his face. Behind them, I saw Vito himself, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a presence that made everything around him feel small.
âBrian Holden?â he asked, his voice calm but intimidating.
âY-yes,â I replied.
âCome with me,â he said, and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started walking toward the car. The two men followed, and I had no choice but to follow as well.
We drove for what felt like forever, the tension in the car suffocating. When we arrived at a large, gated mansion, I felt like I had entered another world. Vito led me inside, his presence commanding every inch of the grand house. We sat down in a lavishly decorated room, and Vito motioned for me to take a seat.
âI donât know what you were thinking, taking my daughter out without knowing who she is,â Vito said, his tone softening just slightly. âBut I can see that youâre not the type of man who would intentionally disrespect the Romano family.â
I swallowed hard, still in disbelief.
âI⊠I had no idea. I swear. I didnât mean any harm.â
Vito studied me for a long moment before nodding. âI believe you. Isabella speaks highly of you. And in this family, that counts for something.â
I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.
âSo, what happens now?â I asked cautiously.
Vito smiledâa rare, approving smile. âYouâll be a part of the family, Brian. You have my blessing. But remember this: we look out for our own, and youâll do the same. Understood?â
I nodded, my mouth dry. âUnderstood.â
And just like that, I found myself welcomed into the heart of the mafiaâa place I never imagined Iâd be, all because of a simple date with a beautiful girl.
REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS
Too many beds
Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss
Really nice guy who hates only you
Academic rivals except itâs two teachers who compete to have the best class
Divorce of convenience
Too much communication
True hateâs kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)
Dating your enemyâs sibling
Lovers to enemies
Hate at first sight
Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead
Fake amnesia
Soulmates who are fated to kill each other
Strangers to enemies
Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you arenât actually dating
Too hot to cuddle
Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground
Nursing home au
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hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?
âSpencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k
When things got quiet at home, youâd get tense.Â
Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. Youâll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what youâd wanted to be doing in the first place.Â
Spencer was going to call you. Heâs sweet, really. You didnât expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. Youâre quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you donât believe them when theyâre given.Â
You arenât smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working.Â
But Spencer loves you, youâre almost certain. Or maybe heâs just content to be half happy. It wouldnât surprise you if he called you to break up with you âwhat use have you been to him lately? Youâre tired everyday. You canât sleep, you canât eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day.Â
Your phone beeps in your hand.Â
Outside, it says. If Spencerâs there, please make sure heâs fully dressed.
You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadnât done anything salacious as he mightâve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now.Â
Doesnât ask, by the way, but you donât actually want him to. Heâs like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer.Â
Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. âHey, honey,â he says.Â
He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and heâs been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you.Â
He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. Itâs cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it.Â
âYou okay?â he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. Heâs brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. âItâs quiet in here.âÂ
âIâm fine.âÂ
âYeah? Any wobbles?âÂ
Heâs asking if youâve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days youâve felt veritably numb. âIâm okay,â you say.Â
You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isnât right for you or the dosage is too much; youâre a zombie these last couple of days. Medications donât always work straight away, so for a time youâd felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away.Â
He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. Heâs sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, âHoney, arenât you gonna answer that? Your phone?â
You blink down at your phone. Spencerâs contact glows in front of a green background.Â
You click answer and pull it to your ear. âHello?â you ask softly.Â
âHey, angel. How are you feeling today?âÂ
You clear your throat. âFine.âÂ
âI was thinking Iâd come over?âÂ
âYouâre outside?â you ask.Â
âHowâd you know that?âÂ
âMust be something in the water.â
âIâll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.âÂ
You manage your first laugh that dreary day. Itâs nearly normal. âOkay. I might not have room.âÂ
Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. âDo I look okay?â you ask.Â
âBeautiful, donât worry.â
âIs this an ambush?â you ask.Â
âNot an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?âÂ
Heâll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking thereâs nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks youâre pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesnât necessarily have to be truthful about it.Â
âAaron,â you say, before you can forget, âdid⊠was Jackâs soccer okay?â
He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. âIt was great. Iâll show you the photos.âÂ
âIâm sorry I didnât go.âÂ
You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds werenât working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home.Â
âItâs okay.â Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesnât. âNobodyâs mad at you for that.âÂ
âFor other things?âÂ
âNothing.âÂ
Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. Itâs a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. âHey. Hi, Hotch.âÂ
âSpencer,â Aaron says, which is strangely warm.Â
Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. âHi, you okay?âÂ
You force yourself to stand. Itâs obvious youâre not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. âSpencer.âÂ
He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. âAngel,â he says, meeting Aaronâs eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, âHow long have you been feeling like this?âÂ
Youâve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. Itâs nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesnât pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away.Â
âI donât really know, a few days?â you suggest.Â
âYou couldâve told me. Or Hotch, you know?âÂ
âI know, I was going to, justââ You press your hand to your eyes. âDidnât really notice it was happening.âÂ
âDonât get upset,â Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. âItâs alright. Spencer isnât scolding you, he just wants you to know weâre here for you no matter what happens.âÂ
âI donât feel like myself,â you say.
âThatâs okay,â Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, âwe can talk to your doctor again, this isnât permanent. Weâll talk to them today, if itâs what you need.âÂ
âIâm sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldnât be an exception,â Spencer says.Â
To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, âYou couldnât have known. This is just something weâll have to keep doing together.âÂ
Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which youâre rewarded with two smiles.Â
Aaron canât stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jessâ, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He mustâve stayed longer than he shouldâve.Â
Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once heâs gone. He didnât eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. Heâs still wearing his coat.Â
Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. âYouâre staying, right?â you murmur.Â
âIf youâll have me.âÂ
You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when heâs not going anywhere, itâs so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks.Â
âJust feel wrong.âÂ
âItâs not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. Itâs technically an antidepressant, and your body wonât adjust well.â He holds your waist as you hold his. âBut this is weird, huh?âÂ
âFeels weird.âÂ
âShort term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?â heâs murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. âI can get anything. Or we can do anything.âÂ
âYou donât have to⊠worry about me.âÂ
âAre you kidding?â he asks softly.
âWe havenât beenâŠâ You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. âI just donât expect you to deal with this, you didnât sign up for this.âÂ
âI donât think thatâs true. I had no idea what Iâd find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,â he says simply.
âItâs not good timing for me to be like this.âÂ
âStuff happens all the time. I wouldnât want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.â He smiles genuinely. âNot that youâre not perfect.âÂ
âI really feel like Iâm not even me.âÂ
âYouâre you,â he says, dipping so close to you that you canât see his face anymore, just his skin.
You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyoneâs ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar.Â
âIâm sorry,â you say.Â
âYou donât have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?âÂ
Itâs a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesnât for a moment seem like itâs something he doesnât wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, heâs nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear.Â
âAaron?â you ask sleepily.Â
âHey, honey. Iâll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chesterâs office, alright? If you donât want to keep taking your lexapro, donât. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and weâll figure out the new plan after your appointment.âÂ
âOkay,â you say, feeling very small. âThank you for doing that for me.âÂ
âIâd do anything. Jack says he loves you, heâs making you a painting of yourself. Heâs very good at the colours.âÂ
âI bet he is,â you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jackâs pleased little thank you.Â
âDo you want to talk a while?â he asks.
âThatâs okay, Aaron, Iâm half asleep on Spencer right now.âÂ
âGood, thatâs good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I wonât be happy.âÂ
Spencer laughs above your head. âWhen is he ever happy?â he jokes in a whisper.Â
âShh,â you say, giving Spencer a light shove. âHe says he will.â You swallow a lump, as youâve had to do all day, but it isnât rawness that colours your voice now. âI love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.âÂ
âI love you too. Iâll leave you to sleep now. Iâll come at eleven, alright?âÂ
âAlright. See you tomorrow,â you say.Â
Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly.Â
âItâs gonna be fine,â Spencer says. âYouâll see, things arenât going to be like this forever. Itâs statistically impossible.âÂ
âOoh,â you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, âI love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.â
He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk.Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#hotchner!reader
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respect || alexia putellas x reader ||
You go back to Alexia after taking some space with the hope to reconcile.
You were absolutely fuming. Alexia had a way of acting like a complete dumbass sometimes. What should have been a nice night out with the team turned into something much more complicated. You wanted to have a good time and enjoy yourself, but then Alexia got jealous. She had a bad habit of getting jealous, and you had finally reached your limit.
It had been over a week and a half since the incident, and you were still pissed. You had seen Alexia since then, but you were wildly good at ignoring her at practice. The two of you lived together, but you hadn't been home since that night. Alexia was hurting, and you were also struggling, but you needed to prove your point.
In the time that you'd been away, you had practically flocked to your older sister. Marta loved you, and she would always take care of you, even if it strained her own relationship a little. You and Caroline were pretty close friends, but it was a little overwhelming for her to live with two very outgoing Spanish women. You knew that you were getting close to the end of your stay, even if you weren't quite ready to face Alexia again.
"Nena, I think that it is time you go back home for a bit. Not a single thing you're wearing right now actually belongs to you." There was a teasing lilt to your sister's voice, but you knew that she was serious. Behind her, you could see Caro standing in the hallway. She seemed a bit more anxious than normal, the kind that came with a certain air of guilt. "I can take you back in a bit."
"It's fine, I'll call a cab," you told her. Marta frowned as she watched you pack up your things. She hadn't meant that you had to leave immediately, but you definitely seemed to take it that way. You weren't mad at her, not really, but Marta knew that it would be a good idea to steer clear of you for the rest of the week.
You had always been very passionate, and with that came a lot of different feelings. Marta knew how hard it could be for you to calm down. Something seemingly small would stay with you for so long, and despite all of the work you had done to stop that habit, you could never quite shake it.
Marta sighed as you seemed to be gone before she could really stop you. A part of her wondered if she had made the right decision sending you away so early. She knew that things with Alexia could potentially get much worse, especially if Alexia was mad at you for stepping away for so long. Marta hadn't ever seen the two of you fight, but she had been there to pick up some of the pieces in the aftermath. Things between you and Alexia were generally pretty good, even if both of you were beyond stubborn.
Alexia's car was gone when your ride dropped you off. Your car was in the garage, so Alexia always parked hers outside, despite it being the nicer vehicle. It was just one of the many things that Alexia did to take care of you. You could be a bit tempermental, but Alexia always tried her hardest to take care of you. It wasn't a good thought, but slowly, you began to wonder if you'd be able to find someone else who was willing to do that.
"Why are you sitting outside? You're getting burned," Alexia said as she ran over towards you. For a moment, you thought she was going to pull you out of the chair, but she skidded to a stop before she could touch you.
"I've been gone for a while, and I wasn't really sure whether you'd want me to come inside after everything," you told her. Alexia scoffed at that as she pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry that I ran away, I just didn't want the fight to get worse. Please forgive me."
"You did the right thing. I was mad at first, but sometimes I forget how we go back and forth. You'd give me space if I wanted it, and sometimes, I need to remember to give it to you too. I was completely out of line for how I acted that night, and I am sorry, so please forgive me," Alexia pleaded with you. She held you in the hug to keep you from seeing her cry, but you could feel the tears begin to soak through the collar of the shirt you were wearing.
"Of course I forgive you, Ale," you told her. Alexia's body sagged down a bit as she relaxed in your arms. "Can we go inside now please?"
Alexia nodded as she wrapped her arm around your waist. You let her stay tucked against you as the two of you went inside. Alexia only let go of you once you were inside to go back out and grab your bag for you. You went straight into the bedroom to shower and change into clothes that were actually yours as Alexia started a load of laundry and called to order lunch for the two of you.
"I know that we kind of made up already, and I do not want to upset you, but I think we need to talk about what happened. Could we try to do that in a calm manner?" Alexia asked you. You nodded as you made room for her to sit with you on the bed. You knew that Alexia really didn't want to fight because she had brought the takeout to you instead of leaving it in the living room for later. "Will you please go first? I'd like to know what exactly happened that upset you so much."
"You embarrassed me in front of everybody. It's hard enough for the team to see me as my own person. I've been Marta's baby sister, then I was your girlfriend, and right when I started to feel like me, you showed everybody different," you told her. Alexia's face softened as she listened to you explain your feelings. She had never really thought about things like that before. You had always just been (Y/n) to her, but as she thought about it, the more she realized that she saw many people refer to you in regards to someone else.
"Yes, you're Marta's sister and my girlfriend, but that's not all you are. It isn't anybody else's fault that the world doesn't understand your value. I forget that not everybody knows you like I do, so I am sorry for stepping in the way I did. You know how I get, but if you're willing to be patient, I will work on being better," Alexia promised you. There was never going to be a world where you wouldn't give Alexia a second chance.
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Can we still request blurbs???
If so, can I request something for Alessia x Reader who is Leah's sister and doesn't know they're dating with them putting in so much work to hide their relationship and slip up by kissing/making out near Leah and are just like 'oh shit, we didn't tell her...'
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Hiding a relationship from Leah, your sister and part-time private investigator, is no small feat. Itâs like trying to smuggle a giraffe through airport security. You and Alessia have managed it for six monthsâa masterclass in secret hand-holding, coded texts, and absolutely no public displays of affection.
Until today.
The plan is simple: brunch at your mumâs house, then a lazy Sunday afternoon spent in different rooms to avoid suspicion. Easy. Leahâs upstairs, rummaging through old boxes, and you and Alessia are in the kitchen, ostensibly âmaking tea.â
Except Alessiaâs leaning against the counter, giving you that smile, the one that makes you forget about common sense, gravity, and the existence of Leah Williamson.
âYouâre staring,â Alessia teases, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
âYouâre beautiful,â you shoot back, stepping closer. Itâs meant to sound cheeky, but your voice dips in that way it does when youâre hopelessly gone for her.
She laughs, the kind of laugh thatâs half breath and entirely trouble. âWe shouldnâtââ
You kiss her before she can finish. Itâs instinctive, automatic, and utterly stupid because, in your head, the kitchen is still safe territory. A kiss here doesnât count as reckless.
Except it does.
The kiss deepens. Alessiaâs hands find your waist. Your fingers twist into her hair. Somewhere in the haze of it all, you hear the creak of the floorboards, but you donât register itâ
Until Leahâs voice cuts through the room like a whip.
âWhat. The actual. Hellâ
You and Alessia spring apart so fast you nearly knock over the kettle. Leahâs standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her face a picture of pure disbelief.
âLeah!â you squeak, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. âDidnât hear you come down.â
âClearly,â she deadpans, eyes darting between the two of you. âWhatâs going on here?â
Alessia looks like she wants the ground to swallow her whole. âUmâŠâ
âMaking tea?â you offer, holding up an empty mug like itâs evidence of your innocence.
Leah raises an eyebrow. âBy sticking your tongue down each otherâs throats?â
Alessia coughs, going beetroot red. You rub the back of your neck, scrambling for an explanation that doesnât sound insane.
âWe were⊠just⊠um⊠testing boundaries?â you try, but even as you say it, you know itâs stupid.
âBoundaries?â Leah repeats, her voice climbing an octave.
Thereâs a long silence. The kettle boils. No one moves.
Finally, Alessia takes a deep breath and says, âOkay, so weâre together.â
Leah blinks. Once. Twice. âYouâre what?â
âTogether,â you repeat, because apparently you like living dangerously. âHave been for a while, actuallyâ
Leahâs face shifts from shock to something resembling betrayal. âAnd you didnât think to tell me?â
âWe were going to,â Alessia says quickly. âJust, you know⊠not like thisâ
Leah looks between the two of you, her disbelief melting into something more familiar: exasperation. âSo, let me get this straight. My sister and my teammate have been sneaking around for months, making out in kitchens, and thought I wouldnât notice?â
âPretty much,â you say, shrugging helplessly.
Thereâs another pause, and then, to your surprise, Leah bursts out laughing. Itâs not a comforting laugh, though; itâs the kind of laugh that says youâre both idiots, and Iâm going to make sure you know it.
âOh, this is going to be fun,â she says, grinning wickedly. âYou realise youâve just handed me months of blackmail material, right?â
âLeahââ
âNo, no. Donât worry.â She waves you off, still laughing. âI wonât tell Mum. Yetâ
As she leaves the kitchen, you and Alessia exchange a look of pure horror.
âSheâs never going to let this go, is she?â Alessia asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
âNot in a million years,â you reply, groaning.
Somewhere upstairs, you hear Leah yell, âHope the teaâs worth it!â
Itâs not.
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