#i actually love reading the book myself it makes me so happy
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Am i the only person who is interested in my characters?
It really feels like im posting art into the void sometimes, does anyone actually enjoy seeing Whistold content? I definitely do, and I dont plan on stopping, but Im not sure how to find people who might actually.. idk.. read the book, enjoy my characters to the fullest with me, ya know?
#its tempting to just like. give people access to the book for free#but i am really trying to like. actually go the proper route and have it purchased through my publisher#even if its just the ebook#people probably prefer the ebook anyways yeah?#but then again#would people even want it for free? i couldnt even make sales at when it was half off for $5#idk i just wish i had people excited about my stuff sometimes cuz thats my hyperfixation#thats my comfort#i actually love reading the book myself it makes me so happy#so im still gonna write book 2 for myself if anyone#but i wish someone else enjoyed it#ramble#uh#anyways bored at work
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I'm only half way through this fic I started at 2am it's almost 6am we are cooking all of tomorrow (technically today) I wanna finish this rn so badly because I'm on that weird fanfic high/tunnel vision you get from reading such a well written fic that it makes you cry because of the feelings you feel with the characters because they're so in love it hurts but like the good way
#quakie rambles#sorting it out by kudos is a dangerous game. like bro idk what i was expecting#ofc the top fic is this perfect au fic that makes me actually read every line#(i have such bad focus even when reading fics but it's a lot more manageable than school books)#guys it's like 100k words it's not supposed to take me this long 🧍♂️#ok to be fair i did somehow get myself to finish de terra in a month during tech week last year#(as in i read most of it backstage ahahfhdns)#this fic has a chokehold on me i haven't read a wedding planner au ever. fits the characters so well#fucking love the first chapter it's like a prologue and it just.. ahahdhshsdh <3#guys I'm loopy this is bad ok gn happy new year (to gay lawyers or ig this case baker and wedding planner)
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MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!
Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.
So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …
So What did I do
I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).
During the Day
https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV
https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT
During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!
Overnight
https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH
https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1
What I Manifested
- Master shifting abilities
- Master void state abilities
- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven
- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.
I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.
I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.
My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!
I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER
Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru
wc — 600
tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance
Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower.
If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along.
“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room.
He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point.
Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees.
“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs.
“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.”
“I deserve it.”
“Gojo.”
You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much.
He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course.
He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve.
He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time.
“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down.
“Go get the hairdryer.”
Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it.
“Are you still mad?”
“Want to take a guess?”
He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand.
“I’ll never do it again, I swear.”
“You swear?” You’re teasing.
Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.”
“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?”
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says.
“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly.
You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying.
But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention.
“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?”
“And go through this again? You kidding?”
You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away.
“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.”
He knows you too well for you to disagree.
#sera writes#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#gojou fluff#jjk fluff
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PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷
“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—
Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)
a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍
for @ohsweetmimosa !!
Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.
Until you met him.
There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.
You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.
“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.
“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.
“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.
He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.
You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.
You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.
Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.
Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.
“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.
“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.
“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.
“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.
Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.
Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.
He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.
Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.
When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.
It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.
“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.
“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.
“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.
“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.
“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.
“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.
“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.
“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.
He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.
Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.
“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.
“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.
“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.
“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.
The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.
Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.
“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.
His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.
“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”
Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.
#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jjk#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#fluff#bangtan#jeon jungkook#jeon jungguk#bts jk#jjk fanfic#blurb#fanfic#jjk x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jeongguk#bts x reader#drabble#jjk fluff
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Dance in the Dark
Pairing: Ghostface!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, Dom!Terry, mean Terry, SMUT, PWP, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), knife kink, hair pulling, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: One drunken night, you giggle with your friends as you dared each other to sign up for a fetish dating website that matched your kinks with others. The site took its reputation seriously so you knew that the man on the other side of the screen was real. And he really was that gorgeous. Terry acknowledges that it's time to meet and he makes sure this Halloween is unforgettable.
Word Count: 6,350k
AO3 Link
A/N: WHEW. I'll see myself out on this one. Chilleeee. I need to hose myself down. Enjoy and Happy Halloween, my loves. Taking a much needed break after this one! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
📥 New Message
You continued to swing back and forth on your gamer chair, grabbing your phone and immediately swiping on the message.
TJ: I look forward to tonight.
You shrieked and bit your nail, pulling your legs in towards you as far as they would go. When that grew uncomfortable, you lifted your sock-clad feet to the edge. It dug into your arch but your mind was only focused on one Mr. Terry Richmond.
It shouldn’t have thrilled you so much to receive a message from him. It had started out as a simple dare with your friends, each of you making a profile on a fetish connection website and laughing at all the desperate men.
You never expected to actually run across someone who looked like him. You thought he was fake or a bot. You thought AI had crept its way into the dating scene, preying on unsuspecting lonely people. The checkmark next to his name let you know that he was, in fact, very much real.
The website took its privacy and its reputation very seriously, vetting all members that signed up. You included. Anyone could message first, the app offering potential matches based on answers to the questionnaire on start up.
You and your friends had giggled, deliriously drunk while you answered the questions. Some you kept to yourself. Not because you were embarrassed, but because you were kind of taking it seriously. You wanted to see what was out there for someone like you, someone who desperately wanted to hand over control to someone capable of leading.
You: Me too.
TJ: Did the box arrive?
You sucked in a rush of air since you forgot to breathe. Over the course of the past few weeks, you shared many messages with Terry. Told each other everything really. You always managed to skirt around talking about the obvious. That you were on a fetish dating website and looking for someone to take control.
You discussed books you’ve read or music you listened to. No matter how silly your tastes, Terry wanted to hear it all. You always felt heard with him. Understood by him. And it made your crush sink further in your chest and take root. Blossom into a full on obsession with his pictures.
He was a private man, evident by his profile that you visited at least ten times a day. Eleven if you had enough time to stroke yourself to his pictures. He didn’t have many, but he had a few of him in the gym and of him hiking. He had one thirst trap picture of him in a berry shirt, staring at the camera with crushing intensity.
As you grew more serious, Terry began to switch up the conversations. Naturally sliding in his dominant nature by telling you to do things. He did it so subtly, so minutely, that you hadn’t known what was going on until he was ordering you not to touch yourself anymore and you actually obeyed. All from texts.
You stared at his latest message, panties growing damp from how excited he made you. The past week, he decided that it was time to meet in person. You were obviously nervous, but every time you thought of it, your thighs tingled and your pussy throbbed.
You: I got everything.
TJ: Good. I want you to relax tonight.
You giggled breathlessly in the comfort of your room, chewing on your nail. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be your life. It would be hard to relax knowing that Terry could slip in at any time. Show off those mysterious Marine skills he talked about on his profile.
You: You really don’t find this weird?
TJ: What’s weird about it? It’s healthy.
TJ: Besides, I’ve been fighting an erection all week thinking about tonight.
“God,” you moaned out loud.
It turned you on even more that he was so open with his desire for you. You were used to weak men constantly trying to play it cool. Play it smart. Act as if they were doing you a favor by being with you. You always knew that a real man wouldn’t pretend. He’d be real. And Terry was real.
You: It’s been so hard not touching myself. 😣
TJ: You didn’t, did you?
You: Noooo 😇
TJ: Am I sensing a brat? A little late in the game to introduce curveballs.
You giggled at your phone, nearly kicking your feet. You were obsessed. You had a job where you couldn’t even try to sneak and be on your phone. Rules were important and you always felt like you had a neon sign professing your guilt whenever you broke a single one. But you were always itching to look at your phone. To see if there was a new message from him or a new command.
Once, he made you stop what you were doing and go to the nearest bathroom to edge yourself. You’d never done anything like that before and you had been so nervous, but fuck, you had been close to cumming. It was impossible to stop yourself but somehow you did.
Another time, he wanted you to take your sexiest picture. You had been fussing and fawning over the correct one, loving them all but you weren’t sure which one would appeal to him. Then it dawned on you. It was about what appealed to you.
After that, you took a teasing photo showing just enough but hiding a lot more. You wore a black bra and panty set and sat on your haunches, letting your thick thighs widen. You tilted your head and gave him a shy smile. The minute the picture went off, you knew it was a good one.
You sent it to him and he sent you a picture back five minutes later showing a puddle of cum on his office desk. This man drove you wild, stimulated your brain in the best possible way. You hadn’t ever known a man to seduce your mind the way he seduced all your other senses.
He sent a few voice notes, enough to understand the cadence of his speech while he issued out small orders. It wasn’t always sexual. Sometimes he wanted you to go to bed early, grab you some tea, or run you a hot bath because you had a body ache earlier.
You: Moi? A brat. I know not what you mean.
An alarm went off on your phone letting you know that it was past time to start getting ready. The first part of Terry's carefully thought out night was that you took a bath, paid attention to your body, relaxed with a glass of wine and unwound from the day.
Hell, that sounded relaxing just on general principle. You took your phone with you into the bathroom, turning on the light and getting the bath started. You added your favorite scent, pouring a healthy dollop of bath soap into the steaming water.
You hummed as you moved around the space, gathering a plush cream towel big enough to fit around your body. Comfort items had to be one of your platonic love languages. You loved soft things. From blanket hoodies, to bath towels, to throw blankets.
You lit a candle as the water ran, white bubbles foaming on the surface of the water. You went to the kitchen and poured your favorite glass of wine, swirling the liquid in your wine glass. You sniffed the glass and took in the subtle notes and highlights.
You hooked up your phone to your bathroom speaker on your way back to the bathroom, turning on some grown and sexy music. Terry wanted you to relax, then you were going to relax.
You told him you were hopping in the bath and he responded quickly.
TJ: Take your time, beautiful.
Your heart fluttered and you sighed, wondering how the hell you got so lucky. Truly, what kind, divine act did you commit to land someone like Terry? You had to pinch yourself as you took off your clothes.
Your silk short shorts and tank top slid down your body, tingling in some areas from how hyper aware you were. You sat on a hand towel on the edge of the tub and ran your fingers through the water. Just a few more minutes before it was perfect.
You grabbed the last candle you used, the smell of spearmint eucalyptus filling the space even if it wasn’t lit. You used an electric lighter to light it. The soft glow played across your hands and you took a deep breath.
Tonight already did wonders for your frayed nerves. Taking the time to soak everything in helped you relax in a way only journaling could accomplish. You needed more nights like these, nights that were just for you.
You tucked your hair into a bonnet and then sunk into the bath, moaning at the hot water touching your cool skin. The water sloshed as you carefully sat down, leaning your back against the back of your tub and moaning once more.
This felt entirely too good. “Falsetto” by the Dream played and you sank further into the water, lighting washing yourself at first. You started with a face mask, smattering the cream on your face. You let that sit while you washed the rest of your body.
With every area that you washed, you wondered which areas Terry would pay attention to. Was he an ass man? Titties man? Thighs man? You had your impressions but you didn’t want to get too caught up in the fantasy. If tonight went well, you hoped to turn this into a full time thing if he was game.
You didn’t have to date on top of it, but god, you wouldn’t say no either. Wouldn’t say no to living life the way you needed to. Being at the mercy of someone who knew what to do with it. How to handle you. How to take all of your stress and worries and let you know what peace felt like. You wanted to do the same for him.
You wanted to be the one he sought out when he had a bad day. Or when he just needed some stress relief. When the world got too loud and unfair and the only thing he could control was whether or not you came.
You wanted that push and pull and you wanted it desperately with Terry. You only hoped he was game as well. He said he wasn’t talking to others on the app and you wanted to believe him. You also wouldn’t blame him if he were lying. You only needed him to be safe and careful.
He sent over his latest test results showing that he was clean. He told you from the onset that he hated condoms. He enjoyed the feeling of pussy wrapped around his dick. You were on the pill and showed him your results as well. Somehow, he even made getting tested sexy.
After your bath, you took time shaving the important bits. You rubbed your favorite lotion and perfume together and then rubbed it into your skin. Your skin prickled. When would he do it?
When you were in bed? When you were in the kitchen? When you were on your way out of the bathroom? You looked towards your bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, your dark hallway beyond.
He could be there now, watching you just beyond the shadows. It should scare you. Yet it only made your skin flush with heat. Your breathing turned choppy and you forced yourself to return to that sense of calm you had before.
You finished lotioning up and brushed your teeth, adding on a mint just in case. You blew out the candle and then pulled on your robe, returning to your darkened room. The blackout curtains worked well. The darkened room felt more intimate than normal.
Terry’s preferred outfit lay across your freshly laundered comforter and sheets. You hoped after tonight, that it would be good and filthy again. You slipped on the lingerie Terry shipped to you, taking your time to pull on the purple metallic bra with fleur-de-lis decorations in black and turquoise blue. The matching panties and skirt set glided smoothly across your dewy skin.
The skirt connected to thigh high stockings and you hurriedly pulled those on as well. You leaned down to pull on high heels, strapping it around your ankle. You’d never felt sexier. There was something deeply erotic about wearing an outfit someone else picked for you.
You took off your bonnet and shook out your hair, arranging it just how you liked. You walked over to your closet, opening the door to look in the long mirror. You turned from side to side, appreciating how well it fit. How sexy it looked on you.
The heels felt like stepping on clouds and you walked around your room, getting used to the feel of it. Hell, you’d fuck you in a heartbeat. You hoped Terry liked it. Speaking of…
You went over to your dresser, cleaning up some of the mess you made while getting ready for work. You grabbed your phone, charging, and switched the song to Under by Pleasure P.
You opened the new message by Terry, tingling pinpricks shooting up your inner thighs.
TJ: See you soon, beautiful.
The message was sent when you began your bath so you had no idea if he was just now leaving or if he was already there. Not knowing had you clenching your thighs. You had to calm down. Had to return to a relaxed state.
Final steps. You dimmed the lights in your bedroom, setting it to where you could barely see. You transferred the music from your bathroom to your bedroom’s speakers. Then you grabbed your wine and took a few more sips until you emptied your glass. You pouted at the missing liquid and then sighed.
You turned around, trudging to the kitchen to the nasty croon of Pleasure P. singing. You hummed as you opened your fridge, bringing out your wine and pouring another healthy glass.
You stopped pouring and lifted your head, an awareness of being watched creeping into your senses. You slowly turned around but there was no one in the kitchen. You fought the urge to turn on the overhead lights, letting the backlighting guide most of your way.
There was no one behind you, yet you couldn’t fight the urge that he was there. That he was near. “Terry?” You called out. Your house never seemed so empty before. You stepped forward, your heels clicking on the tile.
Your phone buzzed in your hand and you jumped with a shriek, laughing as you saw Terry’s phone number flash across your screen. You swiped it to answer it and brought it to your ear.
“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to call out who’s there?” He asked.
“Terry?” You asked, breathlessly, looking for any sign of movement. There was nothing in the pitch black night outside your house and not a peep from the one level house.
Terry’s deep chuckle made you shiver and bite your lip. This man was too sexy for words. Too fucking sinful. He was the total and complete package, driving you crazy with a few well placed words.
“Are you scared?” Terry asked, dropping his voice to a low, purring tease.
“N-No,” you said. You abandoned your wine and then went snooping around your own home, staring at closet doors warily. How did he get in? If he got into your place without a disturbance in the air, you hated to be an enemy of his. Hated to see what he was capable of when he was focused on a mission.
Terry chuckled. “Don’t lie to me,” he said.
“A little. I’m a little scared,” you admitted.
“That’s better. I’d be worried if you weren’t. You smell good by the way,” he said.
Your gasp was a mix of a whine and a moan. Where was he? Where would he pop out? You walked towards the back of the house, towards your room and your bathroom. You checked behind the doors and everything.
“You’re playing with me,” you said, with a breathless giggle.
“A little. Remember our safe word?” He asked.
You nodded and licked your lips but then it dawned on you that he couldn’t truly see you. “Yes. It’s Halloween,” you said.
“Good girl,” he purred.
You whimpered, pussy fluttering. Your essence pooled in your panties. There was no way that you could play it cool tonight. No way to remain cool, aloof, and alluring. You were down bad for Terry Richmond. Down atrocious. There was nothing that you could deny him. Nothing he couldn’t ask for that you wouldn’t try to provide.
“Want to play a game? I have a few questions,” he said.
“What kind of questions?” You asked. You searched high and low but you couldn’t determine where he was. If he was in the house or if he was right outside. You were not dressed for outside so you didn’t even attempt it.
Instead, you went around to check the locks on your doors. All still locked. Nothing amiss. You pulled back the white curtain on your back door window and peered out into the foggy evening. Nothing moved. Not a single leaf or blade of grass.
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asked, a dark rumble in his voice that made you bite your lip once more. This was why you could never seriously wear lipstick or lipgloss. Maybe for about ten minutes before you were biting or nibbling or picking at your lips.
You giggled. “Really?” You asked.
“Don’t want to play with me?” He asked.
You sighed and relaxed a fraction. He couldn’t be in the house yet. He was only toying with you and you were letting him get to you. He told you to relax and that was what you were going to do.
“The Frighteners,” you answered.
Terry chuckled. “That doesn’t count.”
“Sure it does. It’s classified as horror and it sure freaked me the hell out,” you said.
“Do you get scared easily?” He asked.
“Depends. I can watch movies but being scared in real life sucks,” you said. Which only made this whole exchange all the more surreal. But you were already a dripping mess. Forget prep time. Terry would have no issues just sliding right inside you.
“Can you guess which room I’m in right now?” Terry asked.
You gasped, turning around. Didn’t you just check all of the doors? You stepped back into your kitchen. You could hear your gasping breaths, heart thumping against your rib cage. “You’re playing with me again,” you said.
“Am I? You’re cold by the way,” he said.
You released your breath in slow increments, stepping forward through your kitchen with blue cabinets making the kitchen darker. You peered around the corner, looking towards the living room. You took a step forward and Terry tsked at you.
“Freezing,” he said.
You giggled nervously, turning around to your hallway. Your steps turned from clacking to pattering on the runner as you walked down the hallway. “Getting warmer. Warmer,” Terry teased as you walked closer to your bedroom.
Your heart was in your throat, beating a thumping rhythm against your neck as you traveled closer to your room. Why had you turned the lights so low? You inched closer, wanting to get close but not wanting to be blindsided by Terry jumping out.
“Burning up,” Terry said as you passed the linen closet. You stopped and reached out a hand, turning the handle slowly and then opening the door. You flinched, prepared for Terry to jump out.
“Found you,” Terry said.
You giggled, relief flooding through you now that you knew he wasn’t on the other side. You closed the door and then walked to your bedroom just fine, putting your hand on your hips. “You’re not really here. Because if you were, you’d be able to tell me what I’m doing right now,” you said.
You made an L on your forehead and twisted around in your room. “What am I doing?” You called out. “What am I doing?”
You giggled and lowered your hand, turning around just as a shadow passed in front of your door. You squealed and tripped over your heels trying to backtrack away. Escape, escape! Your mind flashed warning bells in your mind.
A man stood in front of you wearing black cargo pants, black boots, and a black tank top. Tattoos caught in the low light of your bedroom window and your pussy clenched looking at his powerful arms. The Ghostface mask seemed to float in the air but you knew just beneath that was Terry’s fine face.
“Boo,” he said.
Your mouth turned dry at being scared but heat flooded through your system taking in every delicious inch of him. He was incredibly tall and he had to duck to cross into your room.
You backed away even as your mind screamed for you to move forward. Terry raised a knife in his hand, the metal glinting. It was a standard chef’s knife and you whimpered looking at it.
This was the dumbest thing you’d ever done. The wildest, stupidest, most asinine thing ever. But it was also a wish that came true. You were already a puddle, a mix of adrenaline and arousal confusing your senses in the worst way. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream from frustration or fear.
Terry tilted his head, making the mask go sideways. He stepped closer to you and brought his hand up to caress your chin. He pulled you closer to his mask and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Couldn’t look away at the ghostly visage as he took a deep breath.
“You smell good enough to eat,” he said.
You sighed and finally blinked. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said.
“Safe word?” He asked.
“Halloween,” you said.
Terry nodded and then walked around in a circle, perusing your body as if you were on display. He hand followed behind him, reaching out to run his rough, callused fingers across your bare belly. “Gorgeous,” he said.
Fuck, you were ready to burst right out of your skin. This entire week had been nothing but foreplay to you. He gave instructions and a list of things to obtain for him, things he wanted you to choose so that you knew exactly what was coming.
“What are you going to do now?” You asked. You felt like he could hear your audible gulp. Swallowing around the thick cord of lust zapping through your body and making it hard to breathe properly. You were on the edge, itchy with the need to cum, but knowing that it would only happen when he decided.
“Where’s the rope?” He asked. You felt behind you on the dresser for the silk rope he asked you to pick out. Something soft and easily adjustable so that you could escape at any moment. If this continued, you’d work your way up to more hardcore stuff. Hand over more and more of yourself.
Your fingers clasped clumsily around the rope and held it up. Terry leaned to one side and tilted his head once more, playing with the edge of the knife. “Put it on,” he commanded.
You licked your lips and slipped the silk rope around your wrists and tightened it. Terry crooked his finger and you walked forward immediately. No use pretending that this wasn’t exactly what you craved.
Terry had set a neat trap in his messages and voice notes to you. The late night calls where his sinful voice rocked you to sleep. He made it easy to surrender. To give in. To cast off all of the doubt and anxiousness. Now you just wanted to feel. To listen. To shut your brain off for half a second and enjoy yourself.
Terry tugged you forward by the silk rope, testing the limit and resistance on it. You almost hated that you couldn’t see his pretty face. But you’d cum so many times to his pictures that you had it committed to memory.
Terry pulled you forward with the rope, pulling you over to your bed and pushed you down. You bounced with a gasp, your titties bouncing with the movement. Terry stepped into your personal space, leaning down and pressing the cold metal of the knife against your throat. You moaned, feeling the knife slide across your skin. He barely grazed you but it was the dark promise of it that turned you on.
That you were a hair’s breadth away from mortal danger. That at any moment, he could press deeper and draw blood. You whimpered as your body overheated. You burned from the inside out, sweat breaking out in patches all over your body.
“Terry,” you moaned.
Terry moved the knife down to trail over the swells of your breasts. Your chest rose and fell in choppy waves, getting too excited before he had a chance to do anything. He slipped the knife beneath your bra and you moaned, arching your chest into the knife.
“You’re too trusting,” he said. He palmed your breasts roughly, finding your nipples through the fabric of your bra and squeezing painfully. You cried out, trying to close your legs but he had encroached upon your space without you realizing. You had been too busy focusing on the knife and his mask.
He tossed the knife onto the bed and gripped your thighs, spreading you open and yanking you to the edge of the bed. The music still playing in the background only added to the scene, getting you further into the mood.
I know you like it nasty.
Nasty by Joshua Williams began to play, juices slipping between your legs and soaking your panties.
Terry pushed the seat of your panties to the side, trailing his fingers through your wet folds. “Oh, fuck,” you whispered, whimpering as your hands flew to his to stall his movements. He ignored you, smacking your hands away.
“Push them titties up and keep your hands there,” he said.
You grabbed your titties and pushed them together. Terry groaned, leaning forward. His thick fingers played you like a fiddle, gathering up your slick. He shoved two fingers inside and you cried out, body arching. Your hands slipped from holding your titties.
“Put your hand back. Don’t make me tell you again,” he growled.
You whimpered and replaced your hands on your chest. You turned pleading, doe eyes towards him. Terry leaned down and rubbed the mask against your cheek. You shivered from the unexpected coolness of it. It did little to dampen the heat in your veins. The fire in your lower belly.
“Nice and fuckin’ wet. All of this for me?” Terry asked.
You nodded. “Yes, yes,” you said. His fingers worked liquid magic on your pussy, making you soak his fingers with how long and deep his fingers went. You opened your mouth, arching your back and grinding on his fingers. He stroked until you were shaking and moaning on his fingers.
“Gonna stretch the fuck outta this pretty pussy,” he promised. He withdrew his fingers and then shoved his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. Taste how wet he made you. Taste how turned on you were under his control.
He ripped at your panties and you gasped at the shredding sound, knees trying to close around his massive frame. His narrow hips kept you spread open. He moaned, getting his first look at your pussy. “Look at that shit. My needy little slut,” he groaned.
Your pussy clenched as he unzipped his pants, jerking it down his hips and revealing his long, thick dick. Your eyes widened taking in the size and girth of him. His balls were big and heavy, drooping and tapping against his strong thighs.
He slapped his dick against your pussy, competing with the music. You moaned with each wet smack, hearing how turned on you were. Your taste was still on your tongue, in your nose, and you closed your eyes to all of the sensations.
Terry pushed you onto your back and slapped his dick against your pussy once more, your juices jumping from the action. Your teeth chattered, unbridled desire coursing through you and driving your pleasure higher and higher.
It’d been too long since you came. Too long since you felt that rush of relief and you were ready to leap from your skin.
Terry grabbed the knife and slipped it beneath your bra. He cut it loose and you cried out, your titties free and spilling out from either side of the cups. Terry groaned, pushing his hips in before catching himself.
He palmed himself with his other hand and guided himself inside, placing the knife against your skin but keeping his fingers there as a barrier so that it wasn’t directly on you. Just held above your skin as a silent threat.
He was so big, you cried out, holding up your hands. Terry ignored you, pushing in deeper and retreated to give you a tiny breather. He grunted and tried again, getting deeper this time.
“Too big,” you moaned, your eyes turning watery at the slow burn working its way through your midsection.
“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry,” he cooed. He dived back in, giving you shallow strokes. It became easier to take him with every downward stroke, and your thighs clenched around his hips.
He used his left hand to slide down your thigh, up your calf, and pull your foot to his face. He rubbed the mask against your foot, lifting your leg higher to sit against his chest. It opened you up further to him, allowing him to nearly reach the base inside you. He was close to bottoming out.
You were crying, whimpering, shivering on his dick as it throbbed the more it slid in and out of you. Terry’s moans rivaled yours. He threw his head back and sank in deeper.
“Oh, fuck, god, damn, fuck, shit,” you whimpered, out of breath and half delirious. The stretch was perfect. Stuffing you completely full of dick.
“That’s a good pussy. Taking what I’m giving you. Feel me in this pussy?” He asked.
“Yes, yes, I feel you,” you cried, tears gathering in your eyes once more. You were driven out of your mind. Body weightless, limitless, stretching your awareness beyond what you could sense. It was metaphysical. Like your soul found his and stitched you together the more he stroked deep inside.
Terry moved the knife up to your cheek. He pushed your face to the side, exposing your neck. He trailed the knife close to your neck. You clenched around him and he moaned, picking up the pace and ramming inside of you.
He fucked you like you had him fucked up. Like he missed you. Like you intentionally kept yourself away from him and he was back to stake his claim. To draw a line in the dirt and dare you to disobey.
“Oh, shit. Ouee, shit. Ouee, shit, fuck you feel so good,” you moaned.
“You look so pretty taking dick. Getting my dick fuckin’ creamy. Can’t stop staring at how much every time I pull out,” he said.
You lifted your hands, intending to push him away. You were close to another orgasm and it was coming too fast. Too fast for you to brace for.
“Move that hand or I will,” he huffed, harsh moans and panting making you sick with desire. Your pussy squelched from the pressure of him entering you.
You moved your hands, holding it above your head. “Ouee, fuck. That dick feels too good,” you whimpered.
“That’s all yours,” he said.
You tensed up, careening head first into the orgasm and crying out, screaming to the ceiling from the intensity. You flopped around on his dick like a fish out of water and Terry continued to fuck you through it, moving the knife when necessary when it appeard you’d get too close.
Terry withdrew and tossed the knife back on the bed. He gripped your hips and flipped you over, re-entering you and you screamed. He matched you with a moan. “Fuck. So fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ wet. Fuckin’ me getting you this wet?” Terry asked.
You nodded and stretched your hands above you. You arched your back, giving him full access to your ass. His large hand came down to smack your ass, causing it to sting with pain. You hissed, not expecting the bite of pain. You flooded his dick once more, fresh juices leaking out of you.
“Oh fuck! Terry! Please, no more,” you cried out. You didn’t have another one.
Terry leaned down, pressing his lips close to your ear. “Aww, you think I care. Come on pretty girl, move that ass. Come get yours,” he said.
You shook your head. You didn’t have enough to hold yourself up with. Each thrust sent you into the bed, fucking you into the matress with unrelenting speed. Your body flushed with heat, great licks of fire. Still, you managed to throw it back on him. Matching his thrusts.
“That’s it. Soak this dick, pretty. Bouncing pretty on this fuckin’ dick. Unf, fuck. Takin’ me very well. You takin’ what I’m giving you?” Terry moaned.
How did he expect you to answer him at the moment? Your mind was gone, down into another plane of existence. He gripped your ass cheeks and spread them. He lifted his right hand and then quickly pressed his wet digit against your asshole, pressing in. You fell forward and he followed you down. He continued to stroke, sliding in and out of you, punishing you with his dick whether you could keep up or not.
The pressure was new, weird, but oh so fucking good when he pressed in deeper. You felt full. Stuffed completely.
“Give me another one,” he commanded.
“Can’t,” you gasped, your face smooshed into the comforter.
Terry gripped your hair with his free hand and yanked, bending you at a weird angle. He didn’t care. “I’m gonna paint this fuckin’ pussy with this nut. But you’re going to give me another one first,” he said, voice low and scraping against your eardrums in the most pleasurable way.
He wiggled his finger in your ass and you moaned, tensed up, and screamed with your orgasm. Your eyes burned as you screamed, loudly, shaking uncontrollably on his dick. “There it is. Fuck you think you are making me wait?” He asked and yanked on your hair to the point of pain.
“Sorrrryyyyyy,” you moaned as you came and came. He fucked you through it, chasing his own pleasure in your body. Burying his dick to the hilt and unloading with a deep, powerful growl erupting from his thick chest.
His cum shot inside you like it was a race to get you pregnant then and there. Your brain turned fuzzy, eyes turning black in the corners and he came and came with seemingly no end in sight.
“That’y my good fuckin’ slut,” Terry growled low in your ear.
“Fuck,” you whimpered.
Terry pumped his hips a few more times before withdrawing from your body. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Your pussy clenched as you pushed his cum out. He encouraged you, telling you to try to work every drop out.
He flipped you back onto your back. He grabbed you by the silk rope still tied around your hands and pulled you to your feet with one bicep curl. You moaned. Fuck. You’d go another round if you were able. You needed him back inside. Your pussy was unbearably achy, twitchy, needy.
You whimpered and cried as he pushed you to your knees. “Open your mouth,” he ordered.
You opened, staring up at him. He dug his fingers into your hair, pulling you forward. He tapped his dick against your lips, painting it with a mix of his cum and your essence. He shoved his dick inside and moaned, throwing his head back while you sucked him off.
You braced your fingers around his long legs, dusted with hair. You held on as he face fucked you, feeding you his dick.
“Get it nice and clean,” he cooed, at complete odds with the way he shoved past your resistance. You moaned, turning watery eyes to him. His mask was frozen in fake sympathy. He tilted his head at you, thrusting along with fucking your mouth.
“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he moaned. You reached out and touched his balls. His hips jerked forward and you gagged, body rejecting him. “Fuuuck.” His moan tugged at your throbbing clit.
Saliva dribbled down the sides of your mouth, onto your chin, and dripped onto your titties still bouncing in the bra he cut through. You felt his cum leak out of your pussy, likely falling onto the floor.
“Pretty fuckin’ mess too. I’m finna bust. Swallow it,” he said.
You nodded on his dick. He thrust a handful more times before he burst in your mouth, stuffing more cum into your body. You swallowed it all, letting the sticky substance slide hungrily down your throat.
His hips stroked absently, like he couldn’t make himself stop even if he wanted to. He slowed down, pulling his dick past your lips slowly. You let him go with a wet pop. Terry cleaned the corners of your mouth with his fingers.
He dropped into a squat, as much as his pants would allow. He took off the mask letting you get a glimpse of that beautiful, sexy face of his. His eyes were narrowed, intense, focused as he smirked at you. He had permanent bedroom eyes. As if he were just waking up or just falling asleep. No in-between.
He smirked at you. “Ready for round two?”
The end.
Ya'll know I can't leave this man aloneeee. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Terry Richmond Files#Terry Richmond x Black!reader#Terry Richmond x Black reader#Terry Richmond x Fem!reader#Terry Richmond x Fem reader#Terry Richmond x plus size reader#Terry Richmond#x Black reader#x Fem reader#x plus size reader#Aaron Pierre#Terry Richmond fanfic#Terry Richmond fan fic#Terry Richmond fan fiction#Terry Richmond fanfiction#Rebel Ridge fanfiction#Rebel Ridge fanfic#Rebel Ridge fan fic#Rebel Ridge fan fiction#Rebel Ridge Smut#Spooky Smut#Spooky Season#Happy Halloween#Ghostface!Terry Richmond#Sub!reader#Sub!Black reader
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I have a mason working on renovating some parts of my barn at the moment, and he brings his dog with him every day and lets him run loose while he works. It's a young, badly-behaved dog and he chases my chickens and scares them, digs holes in my raspberry bed, and he tore the cats' mattress to shreds. It was an old memory foam mattress in the barn and I loved the fact that you could see three cat-shaped indentations, showing that the cats had adopted it as a communal napping spot.
I knew the mason knew, and he didn't seem to care. I'm always worried about Pandolf bothering people when I bring him places so it's beyond me how someone could notice their dog's bad behaviour every day and just choose not to care as long as no one complains. So I was forced to complain, but I'm horrible at any sort of open conflict, I'm an olympic gold medallist in helpless placating so the conversation went like this:
Me: "I noticed your dog has been chasing my chickens a lot!" (let's pretend I just now noticed this so you can pretend it's a new problem and you don't feel bad about having done nothing to solve it this whole time!! Haha :) ) Mason: "Oh? Haha he's so young and rowdy! Does it bother you?" Me: "No!!!!!!!! The little rascal <3" (okay now say "but actually yes a bit—") "No worries! I hope Wolfie's having fun! 🥰" (I hate myself 🥰)
I walked away wanting to kick myself, and Wolfie, and him.
So I called my mum for help. I felt bad doing this over such a non-problem, but she's so much more assertive than me. And she's not bothered by loud people—I forgot to mention, this man speaks so loudly. To me people who breathe loudly are already life ruiners, and people who speak loudly are like the matter to my antimatter. I wish humans could live their lives in perfect botanical silence. Plus I feel like a lot of men have a faint belligerent tone in their voice even when talking about normal stuff, and conversely a lot of women have a faint apologetic tone by default, and it's frustrating to see how the two feed into each other.
Anyway, my mum doesn't have this problem. She came over and told the mason that he's probably aware that his dog is an unrelenting nuisance and please stop bringing him along. It worked. Problem solved. I admire the way she said it in a tone that shut down any further discussion, the opposite of the tentative invisible question marks I shed everywhere when I try to address an issue. I wish I were better at this. I felt bad for making her drive all this way but she said she was happy to be of help even if it means snapping at rude men for me. Especially if it means snapping at rude men. Then she reminded me of that time I punched a boy and made him cry when I was eight, because he'd been bullying me and other girls, and she said—"I remember that I congratulated you warmly and told you that if your teacher punished you for refusing to apologise to him I would do your punishment for you—I did try to encourage you in this path!" and I was like, I know, it didn't work 😔 But also that boy enjoyed stealing girls' schoolbags and shaking them open so all the books fell in the mud (Romain if you read this, I still hate you.) If the mason's dog had damaged books I would have made him cry too. I suppose that's my limit.
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sometimes we just need someone to pay enough attention.
for the longest time i had been trying to read The Lord of The Rings. everyone had sung the praises for it, over and over. i'd seen clips of the movie and it seemed like it could be fun, but actually reading it was fucking horrible.
my parents had the omnibus - all the books squished into one big tome - and in the 4th grade i started sort of an annual tradition: i would start trying to read TLR and get frustrated after about a month and put it back down. at first i figured i was just too young for it, and that it would eventually make sense.
but every time i came back to it, i would find myself having the exact same experience: it was confusing, weird, and dry as a fucking bone. i couldn't figure it out. how had everyone else on earth read this book and enjoyed it? how had they made movies out of this thing? it was, like, barely coherent. i would see it on "classics" list and on every fantasy/sci-fi list and everyone said i should read it; but i figured that it was like my opinion of great expectations - just because it's a classic doesn't mean i'm going to like experiencing it.
at 20, i began the process of forcing myself through it. if i had to treat the experience like a self-inflicted textbook, i would - but i was going to read it.
my mom came across me taking notes at our kitchen table. i was on the last few pages of the first book in the omnibus, and i was dreading moving on to the next. she smiled down at me. only you would take notes on creative writing. then she sat down and her brow wrinkled. wait. why are you taking notes on this?
i said the thing i always said - it's boring, and i forget what's happening in it because it's so weird, and dense. and strange.
she nodded a little, and started to stand up. and then sat back down and said - wait, will you show me the book?
i was happy to hand it over, annoyed with the fact i'd barely made a dent in the monster of a thing. she pulled it to herself, pushing her glasses up so she could read the tiny writing. for a moment, she was silent, and then she let out a cackle. she wouldn't stop laughing. oh my god. i cannot wait to tell your father.
i was immediately defensive. okay, maybe i'm stupid but i've been trying to read this since the 4th grade and -
she shook her head. raquel, this is the Silmarillion. you've been reading the Silmarillion, not the lord of the rings.
anyway, it turns out that the hobbit and lord of the rings series are all super good and i understand why they're recommended reading. but good lord (of the rings), i wish somebody had just asked - wait. this kind of thing is right up your alley. you love fantasy. it sounds like something might be wrong. why do you think it's so boring?
#thanks for reminding me this happened#writeblr#warm up#i don't think this story translates well to the page#IRONIC!!!! :)#but yeah man i read the Silmarillion before i read the hobbit#the omnibus didn't explain what it was and i figured - you start at the beginning and then you read from the beginning#that's how books work#how was i supposed to know#EDIT IN THE TAGS: hi i think i worded this in a confusing way#the omnibus had ALL the stories in it - the silm#the hobbit#and all of LOTR#they just put the silm in the front so i thought logically it was the first book#that's how an omnibus usually works after all - the first book in the series is the first book in the tome#to be fair i GUESS the silm takes place “before” the hobbit????
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Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!
{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter
This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3
Word Count: 3,998
Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.
Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22
Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.
~~~~~
“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.
I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”
“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”
“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”
“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”
I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”
“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”
“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”
Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He���ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”
A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”
“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”
“How did you know I had Chinese food?”
“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.
Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho.
I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma.
The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.
And that felt amazing.
I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top.
21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second.
The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head.
There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again.
When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein.
“Yn,” a voice spoke.
I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.”
My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.
“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”
All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it.
“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”
He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”
“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor.
“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”
“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”
Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.”
“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”
“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss. “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”
I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”
“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”
“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”
“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”
A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again.
“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap.
“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look.
“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?”
Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front.
Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.
To my Yn,
Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep.
You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise.
I love you. <3 Harvey
I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in.
“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”
He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”
I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”
“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me.
Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over.
“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”
“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”
I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice.
“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”
I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”
“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”
What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again.
Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside.
I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”
“Yup.”
“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”
“There is.”
“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”
“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes.
“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”
“We’re going to China.”
Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”
Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”
“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there.
“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”
“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”
“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"
“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip.
But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this.
We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face.
Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go.
“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans.
“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes.
He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own.
I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.
He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.
“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”
“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”
“I just need you to-”
“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”
Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.
Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.
Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground.
The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.
A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh.
“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”
I just might.
He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.
I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life.
When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body.
“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.
“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”
Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.
“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip.
“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”
He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”
“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle.
“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me.
It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still.
“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full.
“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned.
“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know my love, I know.”
With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.
~~~~~
With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow.
He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”
“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…
“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”
“Why else are you up so early?”
“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”
My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”
“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”
“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”
“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”
My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”
“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”
“More than you could ever know.”
#harvey x reader#harvey specter x reader#harvey specter smut#harvey specter fanfic#harvey specter x you#harvey specter suits#harvey specter fanfiction#harvey specter#smut#writing#my writing
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Pillow talk (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Word count: 763 Summary: rambling with Spencer after sex Warnings: mention of sex, and that's it. Prompt: Coffee is illegal and you have to single-handedly smuggle it into the country A/N: I'm trying to write random blurbs to fight this awful writer's block. Wish me luck! Masterlist
If there was a moment Spencer enjoyed with his girlfriend, was their random conversation after sex. Their pillow talks were so aimless, yet so incredibly personal and intimate, he could never get enough of them. There was something special about that time together. It wasn’t that they were naked, it wasn’t about what they had just done. It was about how they seemed to be so carefree, so happy, and so connected, that they could talk about anything or everything.
Most of his team would never believe it, but Spencer Walter Reid was one chatty fellow right after sex.
- “Ok, explain to me this: how on earth are you so freaking smart, but you still haven’t figured out cooking yet.”- (Y/N) asked her boyfriend giggling, as he walked back to bed naked with a bag of chips and two bottles of Gatorade.
- “Why are you attacking me after I made you come four times?!”- Spencer replied, chuckling, and pretending to be deeply hurt.- “This is outrageous!”
- “What is scandalous is that you feed me Gatorade and chips after all the effort I just made on my knees!”- (Y/N) argued making Spencer gasp, acting shocked and insulted.
- “What about my effort? I just made you cum four times in a little less than an hour! I deserve a treat myself, why don’t you bake me some cookies?”
He was teasing her, and she knew it. It was fun and sweet watching Spencer so relaxed and comfortable. He lay on the bed completely naked, drinking from his Gatorade bottle as his girlfriend sat next to him, playing with his hair sweetly.
- “Which is the one thing you can’t live without?”
- “Other than you?”
- “I am not a thing, Spencer Reid.”- (Y/N) stated and looked at him raising an eyebrow.
- “I know that. And I’m sure you also know the answer to that.”
- “It’s confusing actually. I wanna say coffee, but also books. So… which one is it? Which is your true love.”
- “You, always you. Forever and ever, you.”- Spencer wrapped his arms around her and moved her closer to him, kissing her cheeks several times. (Y/N) hummed happily as she let the warmth from his body wrap around her. And for a moment, the two of them stayed in silence, enjoying their moment together.
- “And coffee, of course.”- Spencer added, making (Y/N) laugh immediately.
- “Why coffee?”
- “What can I say? It keeps me going.”- Spencer explained, almost apologizing. - “I can’t read 14 books a day without my coffee. I don’t think I could make you come so many times without my daily doses of caffeine.”
- “And what would you do if coffee were illegal?”- (Y/N)’s question kept Spencer quiet for a moment. He was giving serious thought to the question.
- “Well, that would be challenging.”- he answered after a few minutes. - “I would have to get it in the black market and keep everybody in the FBI in the dark about it. I mean, I don’t wanna lose my job over a cup of coffee.”
- “Of course not.”- his girlfriend tried to hold the chuckles as she continued talking.- “And what if you can’t find coffee in the black market?”
- “Then I guess I would have to smuggle it myself.”
- “You? Spencer Reid? transferring illegal goods? I’d pay to see that!”- (Y/N) sounded impressed, amused, and shocked, at the same time. Spencer smiled and ran his fingers down her chest, teasing her as he continued talking.
- “I’d be good, trust me. These hands can do magic.”
- “Oh, believe me, I know!”- she answered chuckling.- “How would you smuggle coffee?”
- “Good questions, love. Good question.”- Spencer smiled as his fingers trailed a path from the soft space between her breast to her belly button, giving (Y/N) goosebumps.- “I guess if I have to make up a simple plan, I would go to Colombia and get the best beans in the back market. I’d hide it like a magician where no one could find them…”
- “In your luggage?”- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she questioned Spencer’s idea.
- “Yeah, but inside other things, like books. No one suspects books. And I usually carry a lot with me. So all my books would be filled with sweetly roasted coffee beans.”
- “You are a threat, Spencer.”- (Y/N) replied, giggling. Her boyfriend simply smiled, nodding as he leaned closer to crash her lips with his.
- “I can be. And you love me like this.”
- “Yes, sir. That I do.”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#mgg#babymetaldoll writes#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff
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eight step guide on how to study (as a third year pre-med student with ADHD and a 4.0)
welcome to my step by step guide on how to study. i have a love-hate relationship with studying, but this is what works to get me going. getting started is the hardest part, i promise.
step one: prep your space. get a glass of water or coffee or energy drink and make sure you have everything you need out and ready. throw your phone across the room or just put it out of sight. you will forget that other fun things exist (like tik tok) if you cannot see it. out of sight, out of mind.
step two: sit at your desk (or table or a general designated study space with a chair). studying in bed never works like you think it will and studying on the floor (while enriching) will do nothing but hurt your back from hunching over. sitting at your desk makes you feel much more productive (most of my study sessions start by just forcing myself to sit in my chair).
step three: put some music or ambience on. if i need to use my brain more i'll opt for some fantasy-themed forest ambience or sci-fi droning sounds. your brain is tricked into thinking that you're having fun if music is on, but plot twist! you're actually being productive. music i turn to is soft piano, video game soundtracks (genshin, undertale, minecraft, stardew valley) or lofi, but your mileage may vary. DO NOT do music with words unless you want to be distracted.
step four: make a list of need-to-dos and rank them based on priority and time. start by doing an activity that will take a short amount of time. by completing a short to-do, it builds the motivation to keep going.
step five: start a study timer. i bought a physical study timer that is so satisfying to wind and set and watch the time tick by, but a desktop one works just fine. set your timer based on how much energy you have. some days i go for 60 minutes, some days i do 25, it all just depends. as a study session goes on, it's normal for your amount of energy to go down. i may do 60-45-30-20 then take a long break. know thyself and thine needs!
step six: lock in. do not think about what you are doing, simply do it. do it before your brain has the chance to convince you it doesn't like what you're doing.
step seven: take regular, controlled, and useful breaks. do not start an activity on your break that will break your flow. walk around, stretch, check your phone, refill your drink, have a snack. reward yourself! you're doing great, i promise.
step eight: long break. do something that will rest your mind. maybe watch youtube, eat a meal, play a video game, read a few chapters of a book. be proud of the work you've accomplished.
i hope this helps! happy studying!
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must be love ❥ s.winchester
summary: social media/modern era au with stanford! sam winchester
pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader
warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, slice of life, references to drinking, and one mention of sex
a/n: first social media au so please be nice to be loll. but this was fun to make! and who knows i might make more in the future 🤭
also happy b-day to jared padalecki our cancer king 😩🙌 (him being a cancer makes so much sense to me), and the user: dianhhboo is actually my friend to introduced me to spn and i wanted to add her in the fic 🤭
reblog and comment! i love to see your thoughts on my fics (even if this isn't technically a fic lol)
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jessymoore we need to have more girls nights, finals are going to kill me ↳ yourusername 100% this paper might make me off myself ↳ dianhhboo remind me why i decided to major in psych 😭 ↳ jessymoore because we wanted free therapy after we graduated
deansbaby67 fyi i totally kicked your ass in cards ↳ yourusername mhm sure you did deanie you were totally not drunk off your ass the entire time ↳ deansbaby67 @ samwinchester sammy come and get your gf she's being mean to me ☹️ ↳ samwinchester not my problem 🤷♂️ ↳ deansbaby67 im never visiting you ever again
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samwinchester
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samwinchester study date for the LSATS with my love (we consumed so much coffee but she still fell asleep)
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bradybunch dude i thought you said you wanted to study alone ↳ samwinchester your idea of studying is just having your work out and being on your phone ↳ bradybunch harsh... but fair
yourusername i was running on fumes and that book was really boring i couldn't help it ↳ samwinchester how much sleep did you get in the past week... ↳ yourusername ummm like 5 hours... ↳ samwinchester per night? ↳ yourusername ...the entire week ↳ samwinchester BABE!? that's it, you're not studying anymore, come to my dorm, we're going to bed ↳ yourusername 😏😏 ↳ samwinchester we're SLEEPING honey ↳ yourusername 😒
deansbaby67 nerds ↳ samwinchester really dean? ↳ deansbaby67 just calling it how i see it ↳ samwinchester whatever 🙄
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yourusername guys i love my bf 🥰🥰
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deansbaby67 barf 🤢 this is not what i wanted to see first thing in the morning ↳ yourusername sorry mr. one night stands ↳ deansbaby67 are you slut shaming me? ↳ yourusername ofc i am 😍
samwinchester i love you too but why those photos 😭 ↳ yourusername why not? i need to show the ppl my smoking hot and sweet boyfriend 😘
jessymoore youre cheating on me?! im leaving and taking the kids ↳ yourusername WAIT NO BABE HE MEANS NOTHING I SWEAR DONT TAKE THE KIDS ↳ jessymoore too late the papers are on your desk ↳ deansbaby67 wth did i just read?
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samwinchester love you my silly girl ❤️
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dianhhboo you guys are disgustingly cute ↳ jessymoore right? like please we get it you're in love
yourusername ive trained you well in taking candids 🤭 also when did you take those photos? ↳ samwinchester a magician never reveals his secrets 🤫 ↳ yourusername you're a dork ↳ samwinchester ah but you love this dork ↳ yourusername unfortunately ↳ samwinchester UNFORTUNATELY??
yourusername im kidding i love you sammy ❤️ ↳ samwinchester i love you too i guess ↳ yourusername oh great ive triggered sassy sammy
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yourusername officially moved in with sammy 💛
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deansbaby67 uhh at least tag me for helping you two dweebs move in? ↳ yourusername sorry 🙄
yourusername add'l creds to @ deansbaby67 bc he's a big baby ↳ deansbaby67 thank you future sister-in-law ↳ yourusername @ samwinchester 🤨🤨 wanna explain? ↳ samwinchester @ yourusername not really
winchestersmary congrats on moving in you two! i hope to see you soon ↳ yourusername aah thank you mary we'll be visiting for christmas 😁
samwinchester i love you baby ↳ yourusername love you more sammy ↳ samwinchester impossible
#daisy writes#I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT#also happy birthday to jared padalecki#sam winchester#sammy my boy#stanford era sam#jared padalecki#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x female reader#sam winchester x fem reader#sam winchester fluff#social media au#sam winchester social media au#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural#spn#supernatural x reader#spn x reader#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#supernatural social media au#spn social media au#jared padalecki x reader
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Hello lovely!! I have read all of your stories to do with Matthew Lillard and OMFG I love them sooooo I thought to request one myself. :D
I was thinking a Stu Macher x Fem!Reader who is Billy younger or twin sister (idk it’s up to you on that darling) who he is very positive of and has told Stu not to ever think about getting with her, one day Stu goes over there to hang out with Billy but had gone out with Sydney so Y/N answered the door and just tells him come in and they can watch a movie as they waited for Bill to come home, one thing leads to another and they end up in Y/N’s bedroom…..
Thank you for reading this request and I hope you are having a great Day/Night!
Don't Tell My Brother About Us
Warnings: +18 content, Cocky Stu, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus
Word Count: 2,7k
A/N: Tysm for requesting this, dear anon! I loved your idea and I really hope you like this❣️I also appreciate the fact that you like my writing 🥺🤗 I'm actually proud of this fic, I'm just gonna say that ;)
You knew Stu Macher from high school, since he was your twin brother's bestfriend. You even tried to join his friend group after a while since they all seemed so nice and fun, yet your attempts were declined by your sibling, for much to your chagrin, because Stu was constantly bothering your brother by making flirty jokes whenever you were with them, according to Billy. Even though you didn't like the fact that your brother wanted to keep you away from Stu, you couldn't help but feel delighted to acknowledge the real reason behind it.
Stu became your crush from the moment you met him, as his energetic, extroverted and cocky personality traits never ceased to charm you. He was incredibly fun to be with and as you hated feeling bored, you thought that would be impossible if you ever stayed with Stu. Those thoughts were obviously put aside the moment Billy noticed how you and Stu looked at each other. Billy had never seen you as amused and happy with a guy as you were with Stu, your eyes so bright that he was convinced the words sadness and boredom were no longer known to you. However, that wasn't enough to convince Billy that Stu was good for you, and that was the reason you drifted away from him: although he made your days brighter and vice-versa, Billy didn't lose his overprotective sibling attitude, always keeping an eye on his "sweet and innocent" sister.
.............................................................................................................................
"I'm going out with Sidney." Billy told you, while you were reading a romance book on the sofa about a serial killer who fell in love with one of his victims. When your brother said he was going out on a date with his girlfriend, you simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if you didn't believe there were any genuine romantic intentions in what he had just said. "What?" he sounded annoyed by your judgmental gaze.
"Hm I don't know, you don't seem very excited about it. It looks like you don't even have true feelings for the girl." your tone was confident and assertive, since you knew your twin brother all too well. He just rolled his eyes at your comment, not wanting to admit you were right.
"Just cut it out, ok? As if you know what real love feels like, anyway." annoyance was present in his voice as he searched for his house keys.
"As if my lovely brother allows me to know what real love feels like." you simply replied, not moving your eyes from your current favorite book. Although you weren't looking at him, you could tell Billy's gaze on you could kill if you stared back.
"Y/N, we've talk about this. I'm not gonna let you be with Stu, you got that? I know him better than you, so listen to me for once and stop being such a brat." at this, it was your turn to roll your eyes, before getting up from the couch and heading to your room.
"Whatever Billy, enjoy your lovely date." you intentionally made an annoying tone at the word "lovely", which made Billy even more pissed by your behavior.
"I'll be back in two hours. Don't even think about inviting Stu over. I'm dead serious, Y/N." and with a final warning followed by a death stare, he closed the door to go out with his girlfriend that he pretended to be in love with for whatever reason.
You never understood why Billy was so overprotective over you when it came to Stu. Did he know something you didn't? Was Stu somehow dangerous or would he break your heart into a million pieces? Even if that was the main reason, honestly you didn't mind finding out for yourself if it meant you could be with Stu sexually or even romantically.
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't concentrate on your novel after that conversation with your brother. Those questions couldn't leave your mind either, so you decided to use your free time to take care of yourself and get a proper treatment. You went to the bathroom to turn on the hot water, wanting nothing more than to relax after a long day of school. The water felt incredible on your skin, making you moan at the peaceful feeling. After a few minutes, you looked down at your legs and thought you'd better shave them as well as your pubic hair, since you wanted your skin to feel clean and smooth. Once you had finished, you put on a face mask before applying a body cream to your body. It felt so refreshing, as your worries and personal problems temporarily disappeared and were replaced by the feeling of pretending to be treated like a princess. You had so much fun on taking care of yourself and helping you raise your self-esteem that you almost didn't hear the doorbell ring. Why is Billy back already? And why did he ring the doorbell if you saw him take his house keys before he left? You quickly put on your cutest pajamas, since you were taking your princess treatment seriously, and ran to the door. You knew it was dangerous to open the door without checking who it was first, however you were expecting Billy, so you didn't pay much attention to it.
"Stu? What are you doing here?" you frowned as your eyes widened in disbelief, immediately feeling your cheeks turn red, because Stu was seeing you in your pajamas for the first time. Perhaps you should have checked who it was before opening the door so confidently, you noted mentally.
"Oh hey, Y/N! I didn't expect you to open the door. Not that I mind, you look really cute. Where's your brother?" you felt his big blue eyes on you, clearly checking you out as he looked you up and down. He also complimented you as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, probably having no idea of how hysterical it made you feel inside. After that, he walked past you as if he felt he had the right to enter your house without waiting for your permission.
"Uh... Billy didn't tell you? He left with Sid like half an hour ago. You should come back later or call him instead if you want to talk to him." you tried to say the right words so that Stu would get the message that he had to leave, since you didn't want to upset your brother and go against his word. However, deep down, if you listened to your needs, you wanted nothing more than to stay with Stu and enjoy his company, allowing yourself to get to know him better without being pressured into making small talk with him.
"Nahh it's cool, I can wait here. Wanna watch a movie? There's this crazy horror movie that came out recently and I really wanna watch it! Since Billy is not here, we could watch it together, what do you say?" his enthusiasm and energy were something you'd never seen before, and you found it very ironic and funny that he was the complete opposite of Billy, yet they managed to have such a deep and strong friendship. You were left speechless, knowing that your plan to convince Stu to leave your house before your brother got back went down the drain.
"Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan." you answered, trying not to sound too excited about the idea of watching a movie with him and finally being able to be close to him and having some time alone with him as well.
"That's my girl! Where's the popcorn?" he asked casually, as he headed towards the pantry since he already knew yours and Billy's house like the back of his hand. What was he trying to do?? Drive you crazy with his constant compliments and flirting? Without needing your help, he picked a big bowl of popcorn that you had bought for yourself a few days ago and sat down on the sofa, using the tv remote to put on the movie he had chosen all by himself without giving you a chance to suggest any other ideas.
You stood paralyzed in the middle of the living room, still not processing that Stu was right in front of you waiting for you to join him... in your own house... alone.
"Are you gonna sit here with me or do I have to lift you up and make you sit on my lap instead?" his eyes were on you again, while an evident smirk was plastered on his handsome face. Oh God, he's definitely trying to drive you insane. It was then that you managed to move from where you were standing, walking slowly towards him. As soon as you sat down by his side, trying to keep some distance between the two of you so you could control yourself, you decided to speak.
"Look, Stu. I'd really enjoy to watch a movie with you, but you know damn well that if Billy finds us, he will-" as soon as you mentioned your brother's name, Stu immediately rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
"Come on Y/N, don't be like that! Billy is not here and if we want to be with each other, why should I stay away from you? It's not like I'm gonna jump on you and force you to have sex with me or something. I mean, unless you want me to." he laughed as if the whole thing was a joke to him, like he didn't understand the risks and the trouble you could both get into. He never took anything seriously and sometimes you wished you could be more like him. You blushed instantly at his shameless confession and your heart skipped a beat. Did he just admit he wanted to have sex with you as much as you did? When he saw your face, he started laughing exaggeratedly, obviously proud of himself for leaving you speechless and very shy with just a few words.
"My brother can't know you're here with me. Stu, I'm serious..." you didn't know what to say or how to react. The only thing you knew was that you weren't wearing panties and your pajama shorts were already wet.
"Oh really? Because I bet if I touched you right now, my fingers would be soaked." this time, his face was dead serious, his pupils dilated with lust and his intense eyes not leaving yours for even a second.
Your breathing was heavy by now, not wanting to give Stu the satisfaction of discovering how much you craved him. Without any warning, Stu grabbed your thigh and pulled you closer to him, surprising you with his unexpected strength. With his free hand, he easily moved the thin fabric of your pajama shorts and touched your bare cunt, proving his suspicions right. His long, slim fingers traced the drenched lips of your pussy, collecting your juices before circling your clit lightly. His teasing made you gasp and moan unintentionally so you bit your lips, forbidding yourself to let any more erotic sounds escape from your throat. He then brought his wet fingers into your vision, showing you how soaked you were for him with so little, as if you didn't already know. You felt extremely embarrassed at the sight displayed in front of you that Stu forced you to see, before a broad smile appeared on his face filled with pride. He eagerly took them into his mouth, moaning and sucking your cum off his fingers like it was the most delicious honey he had ever tasted in his life.
"Holy shit, I didn't know you tasted this good. Looks like I was right! My intuition never fails me, baby. You even shaved for me... looks like you knew this was gonna happen after all." he confessed with a big grin on his lips. You stood there with your legs slightly spread, not knowing whether to kiss him now and make your dreams come true or wait for his next move. Just as you were about to gather the courage to devour him, he was quicker and spoke first. "Now, let's watch this movie before that asshole returns home." and just like that, he pressed the play button and started the movie while eating popcorn as if nothing had happened.
You felt extremely annoyed and mad at him. How could he do this to you, only to stop his teasing and pretend that nothing had happened? How could he have so much self-control? Obviously, you couldn't focus on the movie, so you just enjoyed the sweet taste of the popcorn while trying your best, yet in vain, to extinguish the fire that was lit inside you. Twenty minutes into the movie, there wasn't as much action as you'd expect, which annoyed you and Stu as well. You almost missed how his eyes remained fixed on you, a smirk returning to his face with the intention of putting an end to what he had begun for good. You felt his right arm around you, after he had slowly approached you, as he whispered in you ear.
"I really enjoyed seeing you all frustrated because of me, but I promise you I'm not a selfish guy. I want to see my girl satisfied, even tho I like to tease you a bit. Come here, let me help you finish what I started." he said before getting up from the couch, offering his hand for you to take. You couldn't contain your excitement, so you rolled your eyes at him playfully and smiled excitedly, leading him to your room.
When you got there, he wasted no time and pushed you against the wall while kissing you feverishly, as if he needed to kiss you in order to survive. Your tongues and lips moved against each other as you fought for dominance, saliva spreading all over your chin and lips as he moved to your neck to give you visible love bites. You knew you'd have to cover that up later, but right now you didn't give a damn as you craved his possessive marks on you. You felt his hard cock against your core, rubbing against you to relieve some tension from both of you, and you could tell by its size that he was big. He quickly undressed you completely while he stripped only his shirt, enjoying your desperate look to see him fully naked too.
"Don't worry baby, you'll get to see my cock soon. Wait until it's inside you." he teased once again, before pushing you onto your bed, climbing up and grabbing your thighs close to his. He stared at your body as if it was the first time he'd seen a woman's naked body, as his lips salivated from hunger and desire. "Fuck, I knew you'd be beautiful naked, but nothing prepared me for seeing this gorgeousness all spread and wet for me." before you could react, you felt Stu kissing, sucking and biting your thighs to tease you a little longer, yet he quickly gave up on that idea and pressed his warm tongue against your throbbing clit.
To say that you moaned loudly was an understatement, as you screamed at the contact of his tongue on you while you clung to the soft sheets onto your dear life. He began eating you out like a mad man, alternating between sucking your clit and fucking your needy hole with his long tongue. You could tell he was skilled at oral sex, since it was the best you'd ever received and he made you cum in less than five minutes. Maybe you were ridiculously horny and turned on by him? Undoubtedly, yet his oral sex skills made everything better and much more intense. After that, he didn't stop his assaults on your overstimulated pussy, even if you begged him to. He made you cum a second time, but this time with his long fingers curled deep inside you. You felt like you were in heaven, as he gave you the most intense orgasm you had ever had in your entire life. You moaned like a porn star, unable to contain yourself, before you heard your front door slam shut.
You immediately leaned up on your elbows as you looked at Stu, who had an "oh fuck, we're screwed" expression on his face, accompanied by a contained laugh.
Indeed, you were both definitely screwed.
#stu macher imagine#stu macher x reader#stu macher smut#stu macher x you#stu macher fic#stu macher x female reader#stu macher x y/n#stu macher fanfiction#matthew lillard smut#matthew lillard imagine#stu macher fanfic#requested#matthew lillard x reader#scream 1 smut#billy loomis x stu matcher#smut stu macher#smut imagine#scream 1996 smut#stu macher#stu macher scream#slasher x you#slasher x reader#slasher smut#scream stu#matthew lillard characters#Stu macher blurb#stu matcher x you#stu matcher x reader#stu matcher imagine#Stu matcher x y/n
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hello!! i hope you’re doing well ❤️ i just read your hotch fic where he sneaks his wife and jack into the hotel room and i was wondering if you’d write something similar where jack is with jess or something and someone from the team catches hotch and reader going into his room except they can’t tell it’s reader and think hotch is cheating and they love the reader and can’t stand the idea of letting them get cheated on so maybe they confront him or call reader while reader is with hotch to tell her or something funny, whatever you find fitting. thank you if you get to this ❤️
i actually fucking adored this idea thank you <333
--
Emily's always taken Hotch for an honorable man. He's chivalrous, opening doors for the ladies on the team and walking them to their cars to be sure that they're safe in parking lots. It's instilled in his very being to be kind to women, so when she sees him trying to cover up a head of blue-dyed hair as he fumbles with the lock on his hotel room, she's perplexed.
That's not you. You don't have blue hair. But Hotch's arm is around her waist, and she's leaning into his side. His hand is more than generous over her skin, even slipping into the hemline of her shorts, and Emily's blood boils.
Aaron's got a grin on his face that she can just barely see without being seen herself, and he sounds all-too-happy to be leading another woman into his hotel room after hours when he chuckles at her advances. She rushes for the bed and Emily has to duck back into her room so as not to be seen when the woman rights herself on the bed, and there's something sickly brewing in her gut as she shuts her door again. She no longer has an appetite to raid the vending machine like she'd planned, so she heads back to her twin bed, hand digging into her pajama pants to retrieve her phone.
Spencer' who's occupying the second bed in the room, looks up inquisitively from his book, "I thought you were going to the vending machine, what happened?"
"Hotch just let some girl into his room. I mean- like, he brought her in, he had his hands all over her and she ran to the bed."
Reid's brows rise towards his scruffy hairline, pink lips downturned, "It wasn't Y/N?"
"She had blue hair," Prentiss shakes her head, "I'm gonna tell her."
"I want to help," Spencer rises from his bed, quickly crossing the room to her own, "I don't want to make her sad, but we can't keep it from her."
Emily nods, but Spencer keeps talking, "I... I can't believe Hotch would do something like that."
"Neither can I." Emily admits, clicking on your text thread. It's heavily decorated with hearts both in the messages and your contact name, and she hopes yours doesn't break when you find out what your husband's been doing behind your back.
Y/N, she types, I don't know how to tell you this, and I wish someone else would, because I don't want to be the one to break your sweet heart. But I just saw Aaron bring some blue-haired girl into his room, and if I'm being honest with you, I think they're having sex. I'm SO sorry honey, I wish I could do something, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you. Please call me and tell me what's going on with you, I don't want you to be alone all night, and PLEASE don't slip away if you and Aaron don't work things out. For the record I'm rooting for you to dump his sorry ass, but I know you'll need time to work things out. All I ask is that you don't shut us out, honey, please don't let him change the way you feel about us.
P.S Reid is here too and we're both here if you want to talk. We can face-time and we'll be there for you as best we can, baby.
And also you can sleep at my place.
Or Spence's. He says he can sleep on the couch if you want his bed.
I'm so sorry, Y/N, we love you.
Emily can't have pressed send on the last text ten seconds ago before there's a series of urgent knocks on the door. Her guard is up immediately, and she almost considers ignoring it because she's sure it's Hotch coming to tell her off for exposing him. She figures you must have called him, upset, and he's here to ask her to lie for him.
The knocks don't stop, though, and Reid's the one that marches for the door, face set in a glare that's unusually menacing for him. He's deduced the same series of events, but when he swings the door open with as much sass as he can muster, his posture stiffens with shock.
Aaron is on the other side of the door, but you're standing in front of him, hair bright blue, face sheepish.
"Hi Em," You smile at her, then at Reid, "Spence. I was going to join you all for breakfast tomorrow and unveil it, but- um, I think now's a good time to tell you that I dyed my hair blue."
"Oh." Emily hums, mouth hung slightly open, "So it's- it was you."
"it was me," You nod, "But thank you for telling me. I'm glad I can count on you. Both of you," Your eyes flit to Spencer, who's equally astonished as he inspects your new hair dye.
"Oh, that means-" Emily's face wrinkles suddenly, looking at your waist that Aaron's got a hold of as he stands behind you, "Gross, you two were gonna- in the hotel!"
Spencer groans, rushing away from the door and retreating back to his bed where his novel lies.
"It's after hours!" You insist, "It's not like we were doing it in the precinct on government time. We're adults, Emily."
"We're adults too, y'know. With work in the morning. We can't be kept up all hours of the night by your racket! Just go get it over with," She grimaces, "And- hey! Try to get into your room this time before reaching your hand down her pants, perv!"
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You
Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader
a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…
warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)
word count: 3,888
-Part 2[*]-
“How was she today?”
You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.
“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.
Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.
Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.
“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.
“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.
It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.
You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.
Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.
What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?
“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.
A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.
But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.
So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.
“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”
“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.
“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?
“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.
“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.
“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.
“What else?”
You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.
“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.
My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.
“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”
“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.
His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.
“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”
“What did you think?”
You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”
“She doesn’t love him.”
“I know she says that, but—”
“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”
“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”
Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”
“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”
“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”
“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”
“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.
“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”
“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”
His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”
“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?
Anti-climactic.
Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.
“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.
His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.
He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.
“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”
You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”
There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.
“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.
“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.
It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.
But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”
“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.
He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.
“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”
Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”
Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.
But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.
“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”
“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”
And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?
For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.
“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”
You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.
In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.
But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.
How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.
He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.
But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?
Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.
He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.
Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb
#azriel#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#shadowsinger#Azriel angst#Azriel x Archeron sibling#part one#Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You
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One year of fanbinding!
I keep thinking "I'm really new at this still" but I guess after a year, it's like, you don't have a puppy anymore, you have a dog. So now I'm in the dog phase of this hobby.
(I didn't make all of these, some were acquired in exchanges.)
In the past year, I have made around 54 books. (For the purposes of my sanity, I am not counting journals or sketchbooks, nor am I counting author/artist copies if the design was the same.)
54 books! In 52 weeks! That's basically a book a week!
Which binds are my favorites?
Ooh, that's hard. I tried to limit myself here, but these all are very special to me.
And I can't choose just one of these:
Honorable mention goes to this one, but I didn't design the typeset, so I can't take all the credit. But I do love the cover.
What's my favorite part of making books?
It's not surprising to me that typesetting is my favorite part. I designed a book for a local museum in 2007, and loved the process. Before that, I wanted to work in editorial design (I had a few jobs doing that in and after college, but that was in the olden days.)
I enjoy the part of physically creating the book too, but I find it a bit more frustrating. I'm not detail-oriented enough to make sure everything is perfect, and then I get frustrated when an endpaper is glued on slightly crookedly, or my text block isn't perfectly square. (Not that I have anyone to blame but myself!) That said, holding a completed book in my hands is the most satisfying feeling, after actually reading said book. I feel so smug when I'm reading a book I created.
I have a lot of imposter syndrome when it comes to the actual designing of covers. I know my strengths lie in manipulating existing content instead of creating it from scratch. So I need to stop comparing myself to other creators, and just do my best. We all have different styles, I tell myself.
What's next?
I'd like to learn how to sew endbands for once and for all. I have tried and given up in disgust so many times. I have watched so many videos and read many tutorials, and I just need someone to come to my house and show me in person.
I also would like to try to learn how to draw, a bit. I know I'll never be great at it, but I've also never tried to learn. I will be off work for a few months later this summer/fall, and I'd like to use that time taking some classes. Even if I could just draw designs to use on my covers, I'd be happy. I don't expect to be able to draw things or people.
I wanted to take up this hobby for a long time before I actually did it. I read through @armoredsuperheavy's guide like eighteen times before I worked up the courage to actually use it. So my advice to all of the people who tag my posts with "i wish i could do this" and "i want to do this"…do it!
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