#i also feel the need to mention that i’ve never really felt like this??? until revently

[malusienki]

.

[bluemoon-fever]

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir. 

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.” 

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely. 

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases. 

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?

That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar 😭

Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!

Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.

A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness

Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth

Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didn’t see later; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,6k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also I’ve seen all the requests for a part 2 of “He's My Collar”, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc I’m working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.

Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.

Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.

— Hey! I heard what happened. How’re you feeling? — The alien’s face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.

— Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. — Superman shook his head.

— I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- — Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. — You called someone? — His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.

Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.

— I didn't. — You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.

Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.

— Superman. — Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. — (Y/N). This is Penny-One. — He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. — He is here to take care of you. — You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.

— T-Take care of me? — You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.

— This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. — Superman’s protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..

— You have your own responsibilities. — Batman simply states. — You should go.

Penny-One simply turns to you.

— It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. — You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.

You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).

Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?

At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.

Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someone’s bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.

Did you fall asleep?

That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.

You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere — startling you even more — push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lantern’s construct.

— Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know she’s scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. — You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.

Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquaman’s blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.

— You can release them now, Green Lantern. — It's Superman's voice.

— He is not going to. — You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. — He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. — I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? — He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss… And other obscene things. — Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.

— Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. — The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament… It would make such a mess…

— I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.

— I will make you scream! — You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.

— Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.

The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.

— WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? — You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.

Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.

It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.

— We came here to nurse you back to health. — Wonder Woman speaks.

— Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? — The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.

— I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. — Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. — Those two came in later. — He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. — Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. — Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.

— You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. — You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.

— I am are aware of my neglect. — Neglect? — But it's going to be different now that we are reunited… — Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?

— Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. — Wonder Woman caresses your face. — I don't even know what they think they are doing here…

— What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? — The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.

— Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. — Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! — What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? — The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.

— I’m protecting Atlantis’s future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. — Batman shook his head.

— I’ve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.

— Then why aren't you there?

Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.

— Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). — Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.

— Let me do it, Penny-One. — Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).

You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup — after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender —, and take your medicine, Green Lantern’s temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.

They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.

You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.

Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while — slightly — mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lantern’s side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.

Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.

You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.

And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.

This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.

It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ring’s power, and the constructs start dissipating.

You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.

You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.

— Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What… W-What are you guys doing here…? — The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.

— You’re late. — Batman states.

— Slowest man alive. — Green Lantern calls out his friend.

Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.

— What did you do to them? — At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.

— GET. OUT!

— But-

— OUT!

— But, (Y/N)-

— NOW! GET OUT NOW!

They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.

— N-Not you… I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later… I-If it's n-not bothering you… — The older man smiles placantinly at you.

— Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.

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@wandalfnation

[ebsmind]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝 ❀ armando aretas x fem!reader

summary: no one ever said love was easy. good thing you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon even through rough patches.

word count: 2.9k

warning(s): angst!, fighting (verbally not physically), smut (mdni), oral (fem receiving), fab!reader, readers height being mentioned (she’s 5’2), reader has armando wrapped around her damn finger, ummmm probably abandonment but like for only two days 😭, soft!armando, mention of rafe x reader, not 100% proofread

a/n: okay woooo this is the first imagine i’ve written in a minute (if you remember my hockey days ily) i hope this is good and can meet to yalls standards! i had fun writing this and ik it took me like over a week but i really didn’t know what i wanted to do with the plot lol. anyways please send me any feedback and if there’s any spelling mistakes or anything feel free to lmk! this was also my first time ever writing in depth smut so i hope it’s somewhat good 💃🏻 also reblogs are highly encouraged! they help me out sm!

oh! i almost forgot too, i didn’t mention it in here bc it’s not that important to me but i thought id share anyways! i see the reader knowing the AMMO team but she has a different job (id say in hospitality or something with medical knowledge) it doesn’t really matter tho since it’s what i envisioned but i just wanted yall to see where my head is at! okay im going now bye! and enjoy 💋

“we were crazy to think, crazy to think that this could work. remember how i said i’d die for you?”

The weather in Miami the past week has been bipolar. For it being the middle of September, it was chilly. Something felt off, almost like Mother Nature was reaching out. The rain had just finished pouring, and Armando wasn’t due to be home until another hour. So, when the younger girl heard the lock to the front door turn, she was surprised. He wasn’t one to leave early if anything, he loved working overtime. He always gave the excuse of 'wanting to be the main provider'. When he walks in, he sets his jacket on the coat hanger and doesn’t say a word. Weird.

“Hey you’re home early, what happened?” She stays calm. Something seems off with the 5’10 man and she doesn’t want to upset him even more.

He sets the keys on the dining table rather than the coffee table in the middle of the living room. He scurries off to their shared bedroom. She sighs and takes it as a hint to get off the couch and follow after him. Her mind runs wild on what could possibly be bothering him. Did Marcus find some way to piss him off? Did a raid go wrong? Did she do something wrong? There were so many possibilities of what could’ve gone wrong.

She walks into the bedroom cautiously and makes a B-line to the restroom. Armando had a routine when he came home from work. Put the keys in the bowl on the coffee table, find his girl, give her a kiss and hug, talk about both of their days and finally, hop in the shower. A sense of stability in his life made him feel somewhat relaxed and gave him a reason to never leave. He almost felt normal. Normal was a funny word considering he used to be in the cartel.

She knew the domesticated part of their relationship scared him and it did the same to her. Most nights she’d stay up thinking about if he was going to get up and leave one day. It wasn’t good for her and she knew it too.

She leans against the door frame and watches him get into the shower. He doesn’t seem to notice, he’s in his head and it’s bothering him. Armando didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve but she knew him well enough to know when he was in his head. Being in a romantic relationship with someone with an avoidant attachment style wasn’t easy but she needed to be patient. Some days were harder than others though, and she felt it in her bones that today was going to be a bad day.

She mentally prepares herself by taking a deep breath. She starts by saying, “Armando you’ve got to talk to me.” She uses his full name, no pet names, wanting him to know she’s being serious.

“We will when I get out.” He raises his voice, not enough for it to be considered yelling but just enough to get the point across that he isn’t in the mood.

She doesn’t respond, he needs time to gather his thoughts. She exits the bathroom and makes her way back to the living room. She picks up a book before finally making contact with the soft fabric of the couch. She needs something to distract herself with. About 15 minutes later, Armando walks into the room. She lets him soak in the silence, maybe he’ll get the memo to finally speak up without her having to tell him. To the contrary, he doesn’t.

Taking a deep breath she starts with, “I’m not in the mood to play a guessing game,” She pauses to look him in the eyes, “So please just talk to me and tell me what’s wrong.”

He keeps his eyes locked on her. He knows she’s irritated and wants to get this over with.

“And if I don’t want to talk?”

She scoffs, “You do realize we have to talk about it sooner or later, right? I don’t feel like doing this Armando, so please just tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“What if we don’t have to do this?”

Bamboozled, she questions him, “the fuck you mean by ‘what if we don’t have to do this’ ?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore Y/N.”

His confession makes the poor girl's heart fall to her stomach. She can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Their relationship was a tricky one, just like any other. She’s seen her parents go through rough patches before for fucks sake, there’s no way he’s leaving without an explanation. Patience is running real slow between the two and the tension in the room feels foggy.

“Remember when I told you I loved you for the first time? Remember when I told you I’d take a fucking bullet for you? Hmm?”

Armando doesn’t respond. Typical. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the young couple to fight, shit happens. But Armando’s cold demeanor is what was out of place.

She was his safe place and he knew it. She made it very clear when they started seeing each other that he couldn’t run away. Not from his feelings and most certainly not her. So for him to put up those walls that they desperately worked hard to keep down, was upsetting. To say the least.

With the tensions high between the pair, the girl took a much-awaited deep breath and spoke.

“My love for you is unconditional. I hope you remember that.”

Armando looks away and walks out the front door.

“they all warned us about times like this, they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith. blind faith.”

The mirrors in the bathroom are fogged up due to the boiling-hot water coming out of the shower head. It had been two days since Armando stormed out of the apartment and Y/N was fed up, to say the least.

Armando’s behavior has never gotten that bad. With the way Isabel raised him, it was expected to be rough but he had been doing good, for her. Everything he did, he reminded himself that it was for the both of them. He loved her just as much as she loved him. She fell first but he fell harder.

Armando never thought he would fall in love, but he did. In the middle of a stakeout, he spotted the girl walking out of a cafè. He remembers the dress she wore, it was white, and long, with yellow flowers. It screamed innocence and he loved it.

A week later he found himself following her around. He wasn’t due to go back to Mexico City for another week and he already finished the job so why not kill some time?

Two days before his departure from Miami he found himself in her apartment with his head between her thighs. He never wanted to leave but he couldn’t let anyone find out about you two. The good thing is, Armando was an excellent liar and no one ever discovered his dirty little secret.

Once she gets out of the shower, she waits no time to yell out her lover's name.

“Armando?” She pauses and there’s no answer.

Her heart breaks just a little more. With the ache in her chest, she decides to call the one person who might know where Armando is, Mike.

Mike was someone Y/N found comfort in, especially when it came to Armando. She knew their relationship was tricky, but he cared about his son and so did she.

Mike picks up at the 5th ring. He knew she only called when it was an emergency.

“Talk to me. What happened?” Mike doesn’t need to ask how she’s doing, if anything he’ll do it after but he needed to know what in the hell his son did now.

Mike’s voice brought the girl to tears. She felt at ease knowing that Mike was always willing to help her in a time of need.

She sniffles before speaking, “Oh Mike, it’s been two days since I’ve last seen him. He came home Tuesday night without saying a word and left right after showering. I tried to get him to talk but he wouldn’t budge. I’m really worried he hasn’t done this in so long, I don’t know what happened.” She says it all in one breath, and by the time she is done speaking, she’s panting. Mike pauses before replying to the anxious girl.

“I’ll call Dorn and Kelly to see if he’s been staying with them but he’s been going to work. I knew something was up when he refused to talk to anyone.”

“Thank you, Mike, I appreciate you so much.”

“Of course, but Imma need you to remember that when shit hits the fan never give up. You hear me? Never give up, especially with Armando.”

Mike hangs up after speaking and leaves Y/N to wallow in her thoughts. She understood Mike was a busy man and had a separate life so she didn’t take it to heart but it hurt knowing that she was all alone again.

“but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you.”

Mike called Y/N back two hours later saying that Armando was on his way home. The girl couldn’t tell if she was happy that he was okay or enraged that he didn’t have the balls to come home without someone having to tell him too. Armando would just have to come home to see the answer to that.

The young woman was frightened, not knowing if this was going to end in a raging verbal war or if everything was going to return to normal. She didn’t want to lose Armando, like she said earlier, she loved him unconditionally.

To kill time, she decided it was best to bake her favorite sweets, chocolate chip cookies. She makes her way to the kitchen to prep the batter. When she goes to preheat the oven, she hears the front door unlock. Armando’s home.

Even after almost two years of being together, he still made her heart race and the butterflies in her stomach never seem to have left.

He walks in and spots her in the kitchen, her back is facing him. He can tell she’s waiting for him to make the first move.

“I’m home.” He closes the front door and locks it, his eyes never leaving her back.

She looks to the right and over her shoulder, “It took you long enough. Where were you?”

“I stayed with Dorn and Kelly. I’m fine Y/N.”

She takes a deep breath and mentally reminds herself that she can’t blow up on him, even though he deserves it. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. There’s nothing else for her to say, he messed up badly and he needed to be the one to fix this.

“Baby look, lo siento, I do. I don’t know what happened. One second I was okay and then Rita said something and I just got angry. I needed some time to think. I needed space.” He makes his way to the kitchen island, he’s now 5 feet away from Y/N. He yearns for her touch. The last couple of days were hard and all he wanted was a hug from his girl, but he knew he wasn’t getting that.

The oven beeps, cutting off Y/N’s train of thought. She grabs the metal tray filled with cookies and gently puts them into the oven. She turns and is faced with Armando. She takes notice of what he’s wearing. It’s a different outfit, she knew for a fact that he came when she was gone for work. He had left with nothing but his keys on Tuesday and Dorn’s clothes wouldn’t have fit Armando. That man was 6’2 for Christ's sake.

“I didn’t expect you to become a coward and just leave without saying a word but here we are.” Armando could feel the heat radiating off of the 5’2 woman. She may be small but she was frightening when she was angry.

Armando grips the counter, hard, he takes a deep breath before answering the girl.

“I know I fucked up but I just needed space.” She scoffs at his statement.

“Needed space from what exactly?” She manages to huff out. She’s fed up and Armando knows it. One wrong move and he’s a dead man.

“Rafe wouldn’t shut up, okay! He kept talking about you like you were just some piece of meat.! I couldn’t take it! I get that you guys dated but fuck!” Armando's grip on the counter is lethal and his knuckles are practically white.

“Armando Aretas are you jealous?”

“No.”

She smiles and gets a glare in return from her lover. Oh, she was going to have a field day with this.

Before Armando came into the picture Y/N had dated Rafe for about 4 months. It wasn’t anything serious, but if you were to ask her what she thought of Rafe, she’d tell you he was a piece of shit.

“Well I think you’re jealous,” she wasn’t letting it go, “and I think it’s hot but you need to remember that Rafe can be a douchebag.” She makes her way over to Armando and pulls him in for a hug.

“Just next time please don’t leave without saying a word and you have to communicate with me.” She looks up at him with her doe eyes while speaking.

“I promise it won’t happen again. I love you, baby.”

“Religion’s in your lips even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship, we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship this love.”

Without a second to waste Armando sweeps the girl into a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and seeing Kelly and Dorn together really made him miss his girl.

He brings his hands down her body and rests them on her hips. He deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue into her mouth. As much as she wants to fight for it, she knows it’s his turn to take care of her, so she gives in. She runs her hand up to the back of his neck, rests it there, and occasionally plays with the hairs at the base of Armando’s neck. She was the first to pull away, she needed to catch a quick breath before being able to continue. Armando uses this moment to speak.

"Let me take care of you cariño."

Not even a second later, the younger woman lets him devour her like she's his last meal. He maneuvers them to the dining room, grabs her hips, and lifts her onto the table in one swift movement. She lets out a soft gasp when he makes contact with her neck. His teeth sink into the soft skin on the left side of her neck. It hurt, but not enough to cry about it. He soothes the small ache by running his tongue over the semi-red spot. She reacts by putting her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting him to stop. He has her panting, softly. The sounds go straight down into his pants. He chooses to ignore it, he's focusing on her.

He detaches himself from her neck to pull off the oversized tee she's wearing. He throws it to the floor. When he looks at her chest he notices the lacy fabric that hugs her breasts.

He lowers himself to where his lips rest right above her ear and whispers, "You drive me fucking crazy, baby."

Armando kneels in front of her and then proceeds to get a hold of her right leg. Before he continues, he looks up at her. God, he looked so fucking hot. His pupils were enflamed and filled with lust.

He starts to kiss his way up her leg, starting at her ankle, and right when he gets to her inner thing, she lets out a soft gasp. She's got him right where she wants him to be. Armando's right-hand grips the waistband of her black athletic shorts, signaling he wants them off. She lifts her hips and lets him do the rest. Armando takes off both her shorts and panties in one go. He was a tease, but not tonight.

He puts his hands on her hips and guides them to the edge of the table. He has full access and without a second left to spare his mouth makes contact with her folds. She shrieks, then it gets repressed into a moan when he finds her clit. He's lapping at her folds but it's not enough, she needs more.

"More, baby, I need more."

He wastes no time and inserts his ring and middle finger into her seeping wet cunt. Her moans are getting louder, and he fucking loves it. He continues by licking her clit, and her orgasm starts to finally peak.

"Oh fuck, yes, right there." She manages to speak through her moans.

Her right-hand finds its way to his dark brown hair, and she takes a fistful of it, not caring if it hurts him or not. He deserved it, after all, he left her alone for two days. She's close to her orgasm and he can feel it. His mouth makes its way to her clit and about 25 seconds later, she's coming undone.

Her sight fades to black and all she can see are stars. Once the image of them fades away, she looks down at Armando, he's licking her clean. She jerks away, from still being sensitive, but his hands immediately find their way to her hips to keep her in place. Not a drop of cum is going to waste. When he’s done he stands and removes his shirt. Y/N's hands go straight to his jeans, the outline of his cock doesn’t go unnoticed, but before she can get the zipper down the oven beeps. Both of their heads turn in the direction of the kitchen and the girls eyes widen in realization.

“What the fu-,”

"Oh my god, the cookies!"

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[formulawolff]

iv. raising the stakes - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.0k

warnings: cursing, age gap, mentions of divorce, power imbalances, mentions of age gap relationships, sexual references, toto wanting to be with you every second of every day, YEARNING, pining, yadayadayada, the works y'know

prev. | next.

“don’t tell me it’s that fucking nitwit.”

the team principal nearly growls, fury oozing into every single word. 

“i haven’t talked to him in a while,” panic starts to flare up, “fuck, fuck, fuck. what do i do?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“ignore him?” 

“i can’t do that,” you suck in a breath, “you need to go to my room. just sit on my bed or something until he leaves.”

“scared he’s going to catch on or something?” toto arches a brow, his tone shifting from scorn to a light-hearted tease, “oh schatz, are you worried your little boyfriend won’t like that you’re with another man?”

“no,” you scoff, “you know exactly what would happen if daniel saw both of us. go to my room. stay there until he leaves.”

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, clambering to his feet. he stretches slightly, wincing, “that was not my best idea.”

“that’s what happens when you’re an old man.”

the remark lights a new fire in toto, the austrian licking his lips, “oh don’t worry love, this old man will you show you soon he’s actually–”

“get. in. my. room.” you hiss, scrambling to your feet. 

“fine, fine,” he exhales, nodding towards the end of the hall, “i assume that’s it?”

“yes,” you affirm, “just stay there. answer some emails or something.”

“will do,” he whistles, turning on his heel. 

once the door to your room closes, you clear your throat. your voice was probably shaky from what just occurred. hell, even your brain felt like it was a pile of mush. 

there was not a single thought rattling around, your memory only replaying a constant loop of what just happened. 

oh fuck. you realize your shorts were completely soaked. and it was noticeable. although you weren’t going to be opening your legs, you were obviously flustered. 

time to act like nothing ever happened. 

quickly, you throw a blanket over you, “come in!”

daniel pokes his head in, a bright grin enveloping his face, “hey there, winner, winner!”

“how are you?” 

“i’m okay,” he shrugs, crossing over to the couch, “were you watching something? i thought i heard some voices.”

“oh yeah,” you nod fervently, “i was just watching some tik toks before you came in.”

“sorry it’s so late,” daniel fiddles with a loose thread on his shorts, “i figured i would come by after all the press and all that. you must be tired, yeah?”

“a little bit.

“it was a huge day for you,” he points out, “i’m happy for you. i really am. i couldn’t think of anyone who deserved that win more than you.”

you can’t help but feel a grin form, “thank you, danny.”

“also,” he lets out a shaky breath, “i feel like i owe you an explanation why i’ve been so distant this last week.”

“oh daniel you don’t have to–”

“but i do,” he interjects, his voice so quiet you had to lean forward to hear it, “i guess when you asked me that question after bahrain, i was confused. to tell you the truth, i was confused about how my feelings for you. i guess i never really addressed the feelings i had for you until you brought it up. yeah, i do have feelings for you. i am attracted to you. but i can’t act on them because i know that you would never pursue me in that matter. you’ve always seen me as one of your best friends, and that’s okay. i figured i would take a step back so i could heal without hurting you or lashing out. because it’s not your fault, it’s all been one-sided.”

“daniel i–”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, “i had to heal on my own. i had to come to terms without bringing you into it. it would have been immature of me to make you feel like you had to reciprocate the attraction. besides, i feel like you’re attracted to someone else.”

your heart nearly stops beating for a moment, eyes widening, “oh – um, i–”

“you’ve always spoke so highly of carlos, and with the way you look at him, i have a gut feeling you like him.”

you can clearly picture toto in your room, leaning against the door, listening to every word. this meant you had to tread these waters carefully. 

very carefully. 

“oh daniel,” you begin, “at the moment, i’m not attracted to anyone on the grid. if anything, i see most of you guys like my brothers. it’s the best group of friends i could have ever asked for. if i were to have romantic relationships with any of you guys, i feel like it would diminish the bonds we have. also, i just don’t think it’s very professional. we have to keep things professional, you know?”

“i understand,” daniel’s eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but see nothing but anguish, “i appreciate you, i really do. can we just act like you never asked that question?”

“of course.”

“i love you,” daniel leans forward, scooping you in an embrace, “you’re the best. i’d stay and chat about your big win today, but i bet we’re both exhausted. i’ll text you, okay?”

“okay,” a giggle bubbles up as daniel shakes you back and forth, “i love you too, danny.”

“i’ll see ya around,” he places a swift peck on your temple before getting up, “sleep well. you deserve some rest.”

“you too,” you murmur, waving as the australian strolls out, “see you around.”

“byeeee!”

once the door shuts, you flop backwards, breathing out a sigh of relief. 

that seemed to go well. 

shooting up, you remember that there was a very large, very handsome austrian man waiting for you in your room. wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you spring up, nearly jogging down the hall. 

pushing open the door, your breath hitches in your throat. 

instead of being wide awake, toto is slumped on your bed, limbs sprawled out. light snores fill the air, his chest rising and falling. rays of moonlight cascade into the space, shrouding him with a soft glow. 

quietly, you make your way to the bed, discarding your shorts and underwear. after seeing the clothes on the floor, you realize you may as well ditch the top too. peeling it off, you toss it, burrowing under the comforter. 

toto stirs, blinking, “how long was i– oh my god.”

you can’t help but smirk as he’s left speechless, mouth agape, eyes nearly as wide as saucers, “not long. daniel only came over for about fifteen minutes.”

“and you didn’t wake me the moment you started taking off your clothes?”

“i didn’t know i was supposed to,” you tease, scooting towards the principal, “you don’t have to leave. you can stay.”

“i don’t know if i should,” light kisses pepper your nose, cheeks, and forehead, “they’re probably all wondering where i ran off to. i’ve been gone awhile and haven’t been answering my texts or calls. if i’m not careful, they might send out a search party.”

“lewis hamilton can’t be without his team principal for one second?” 

at your response, toto laughs, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades, “you’d be surprised. at times i wonder if i adopted him as my own. george too.”

“please?” you roll over, facing him. for extra measure, you jut your bottom lip out, ensuring that your lashes flutter as you blink, “please stay?”

“hmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “what’s my incentive for staying?”

“you know, not everything is a business transaction.”

“i just wanted to hear you beg a little.”

the truth of the matter was that the team principal knew if he stayed, he would be in too deep. even further deeper than he already was. 

oh, toto wolff was already weak for you. 

but now? 

it was far worse than he could ever imagine. 

there was just something about you that he couldn’t shake. as you laid beside him, moonlight swathing your figure, he couldn’t resist admiring. fuck, you were just so gorgeous. 

however, that was not the only thing that drew him in. your aura alone was attractive enough. confident, radiant, oh so intelligent, and level-headed. also, you were unapologetically yourself. toto needed that. he needed someone to match his energy. 

the fact that you were one of the best drivers on the grid was just a bonus to the plethora of qualities that he adored. 

of course, there was that ever-present thought looming in his mind. 

if a single soul found out about this blossoming relationship, every aspect of his life would come crumbling down. 

his children would shun him. he would be let go from his esteemed position at mercedes. the fia would exploit his wrongs in every way imaginable. the media would have an absolute frenzy. his drivers would no longer speak to him. 

and susie? oh god. 

although there was still a band gleaming on his left finger, the marriage with susie had devolved three years ago. the papers weren’t signed until several months ago, the team principal keeping that matter private. merely for the sake of his ex-wife and children. wearing the band was simply a promise he made with susie for the time being, to keep the public thinking that they were still happily married. 

the divorce would be announced at the end of the 2024 season, just so that the media wouldn’t speculate. 

although, they already speculated more than he liked. 

yet, there was this part of him that urged him to take that risk. to pursue you. to get to know every part of you. to learn, cherish, and love you in every way possible. 

you were his golden girl, without a doubt. 

a shining ray of light that deserved the world. 

and by god, he was more than determined to give you that.

“toto,” your eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as a hand ran through your hair, “can you please stay?”

“if i stay,” the team principal shifted his body, propping himself up with an elbow, “i’m going to have to leave early. probably before sunrise so that i’m not spotted.”

“you could just disguise yourself.”

“right,” a light chuckle flows his lips, “i’ll find a mustache and stick it on. no one would ever dare recognize me then.”

“you think?” fuck, your giggle was going to be the death of him. 

“i know,” leaning over, he presses a kiss on your temple, “i’ll stay, schatz. just don’t be disappointed if you wake up and i’m not there. all right?”

“all right,” you nod, sleep slurring your words. 

quickly, toto unbuttons his shirt, discarding it to the floor. fuck, it was probably going to be wrinkly in the morning, but he didn’t care. as long as he got to spend a few more hours with you, it would make up for it. standing, he unbuckles his belt, slacks falling to the floor. 

pulling the comforter back, he curls up next to you, bringing you close to his chest. 

“you know, sixteen-year-old me would be screaming, crying, throwing up, right now.”

“is that right?” his chest rumbles as he laughs, “well, we’ll have create a time machine to let sixteen-year-old you that all of her dreams come true.”

“are you sure you don’t have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

“like i said before schatz,” his arms squeeze you gently, “crushes are for children.”

“then what is it?”

“we’ll have to find out,” toto found his eyelids drooping as you snuggle closer, “goodnight, golden girl.”

in his heart, toto knew the answer all too well. 

if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to want a relationship. with such a bright future ahead for you, would you even want to settle down at mercedes with a man like him? a previously divorced man going through a potential midlife crisis? 

additionally, if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to fall in love. 

and if that was the case, the stakes would only be higher. 

not only would be acquiring one of the best drivers in formula one’s history, he would be acquiring the girl he loved. 

and god, was he determined to make that happen. 

by any means possible. 

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[buckysgrace]

Hi. You’re amazing!

Do you ever write fluff? Like if you found out you were pregnant with Billy’s baby and at first he’s upset and doesn’t want anything to do with you but after you have the baby ( a little boy with blonde curls like Billy) he gets all emotional and wants to desperately be a better father than his dad was to him 😭

Hello! Thank you so much <3 I absolutely will write fluff!

CW: Mentions of abortion, mentions of child abuse, lots of Billy being scared and a lil mean.

Billy's son is also referenced as having blonde curls and his nose, but the rest is ambiguous!

He was scared.

Billy honestly didn't know what he was going to do. There had been many arguments with you about it, but you seemed fairly determined. You were going to have this baby, whether he wanted to be a part of the baby's life or not.

It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to be involved, but he could feel a crushing fear spreading through him every time he thought about being a dad.

His relationship with his own dad was strained. Things weren’t the best between them. He never really had a positive father figure, someone that showed him how to stay calm even when he was frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to end up snapping at his own child.

He couldn’t be a dad.

“Not mine,” He said once you showed up with the ultrasound, the bloodwork and everything. Denial was all he could think about, all he could process. He couldn’t fuck up your life and this child’s life if he wasn’t involved. It was that simple, “I didn’t knock you up.” 

“Uh huh,” Was your dry answer, your eyes looking less than amused, “Do you want a paternity test then, William?” Came your snarky response, because you both knew the truth. This baby was his, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind about that. And it terrified him. 

“Don’t call me that.” He said as he pushed his hair off of his forehead, feeling sick as it continued to wash over him. He was going to be a dad. He was going to end up just like Neil. 

“Then don’t act like you weren’t a part of this.” You said, looking just as fearful as what he felt. He sat down on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot rapidly as he thought about how good a smoke sounded right now. He’d need a lot more to make him relax. 

“It’s still early, right?” He questioned at last, turning his attention back to you. He watched the way your eyebrows furrowed tightly together and then relaxed again. Your eyes softened, telling him what he already knew. 

“I’m not getting an abortion,” You said at last, “I’ve made up my mind. You can make your decision, but I’m not letting you walk in and out of our lives whenever you see fit. You can be a part of this baby's life or we can end this. Whatever you prefer.” You were gentle with him, setting out the options softly like you always did. You understood him better than anyone else, made him feel safe. It made him sick to think about how he was hurting the one person he really cared about. 

“Can I think about it?” He asked at last, feeling like there wasn’t anything else to do. He didn’t have an answer yet and he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. He was growing angry at himself. He could only imagine what Neil would say once he found out. 

“Yeah,” You replied gently, eyes softening as you nodded your head, “But I can’t wait forever. I need to know your answer soon.” Your voice slightly wavered but he looked away, not wanting to see you so upset. 

“Yeah,” He responded as he nodded his head and placed his fingers tightly together, “I’ll let you know.” He said at last, staying put until you left. Everything was falling apart, breaking down around him. He couldn’t deal with it right now. 

Ignoring you was harder than he’d thought it would be. He looked for you everywhere he went, even though he knew he couldn’t have you. That was his own fault regardless. He’d made up his mind. It would be easier this way.

Yet, when the invitation for your baby shower arrived in his mail he felt his walls caving in. They crashed into him, making him break down as he stared at your handwritten notes on the card. He could tell just by reading it that you were excited, not afraid. He wished he could be more like you. 

In the end, he decided to go. He needed closure, as he was sure you needed to. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stand living in the same town as you, knowing that his child would never know him. Somehow, that made him feel even worse.

He felt lonely as the months drew on. He had no one to confide in for his problems; especially Neil and Susan. He didn’t know what to say when they questioned about your disappearance and he felt even more at a loss when they asked him if you were pregnant. A shrug of his shoulders was his answer. He really didn’t know. 

The walk up towards the little gymnasium felt odd, like he didn’t quite belong as he stared at the little balloons and elephant decorations that were spotted throughout the room. There were familiar faces; your friends and family. Some other people that weren’t quite as well known. He still felt awkward, like everyone knew that he was the one who had knocked you up and ran. 

“Hey,” You drew out as you approached him, your palm flat against the bump in front of you, “I didn’t think you’d be here.” You said slowly, literally glowing as you stood in front of him. You had a sundress on, your cheeks were warm and forehead a little sweaty. He wondered if it was from the baby. 

“I didn’t think I’d come either.” He admitted at last, hating how horrible that sounded. He just felt like he was in a rut, buried deep inside of a hole with no real way of coming out. You were like sunshine through the dirt, warming his skin as he watched you. 

“What does this mean?” You asked him at last, tilting your head as your eyes softened over his features. He wished that he had a real answer for you, to tell you how he felt. He was in love with you; deeply. He just didn’t want to hurt you either. It was complicated. 

“I really don’t know yet,” He mumbled, “It just felt right.” He decided on, unable to tell you just how much he missed you. He was nearly desperate enough to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He would if you pushed him hard enough. 

“Billy,” You drew out in exasperation, “I can’t have you doing this, being so wishy-washy. What do you want?” You asked him seriously, looking like you were close to cracking too. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to hold you. He needed to apologize. 

“I just want to be better,” He replied slowly, “I want to be here. For you and for-,” He stalled for a moment as he looked down at your baby bump, feeling like he was at a loss once again. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him in his life or not. 

“Him,” You said quickly, “We’re having a little boy.” Your eyes were glazed over in tears, your lips pulling into the tightest smile. You were clearly emotional, making him feel awful as he reached his hand forward. Your fingers met slowly, molding against one another. He felt sparks traveling up his arms, leaving him resentful of the past few months he’d wasted. 

“That’s-, that’s good,” He answered after he cleared his throat. He was already scared to be a dad, but to have a son? He feared that even more. He was sure he was following directly into Neil’s shows, “Have you decided on a name?”

“I kind of like Cash,” You stated as you rubbed at your belly, “Just feels right. C’mon, you can open the presents with me.” You explained as you tugged him along, leaving him a little jittery. He thought about pulling out a cigarette, but figured it wasn’t the right place to do it.

He felt a little lost but slowly grew more and more keen on what was happening. It was still a lot to process, but it felt right being there by your side. You were clearly excited despite everything that had happened. He was grateful that you were so open, that you didn’t hold a grudge against him.

“Where are you living at?” He asked instead, curious as to whether your living situation had changed or not. You were still living at home the last time he checked. He was slightly nervous, wondering if someone else had slipped into his spot. 

“Still with my parents,” You admitted as you shrugged your shoulders, “They were upset, but they’ve come around.” Your lips were pulled into a smile, looking less than worried. Apparently things had been fairly well for you.

“They probably hate me.” He said a moment later, sure that it was true. He couldn’t see how they wouldn’t. He had practically left you. You snapped your eyes up towards him. 

“Hate is a strong word,” You told him quickly, “But yeah, they’re not the happiest. Especially dad.” You explained slowly as you continued to rub at your baby bump. 

“Great,” He mumbled as he placed his hands in his pockets, “I’m really sorry.” He breathed out slowly, knowing his apology was more important than everything else. He meant it too. He shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

“You just disappeared,” You started slowly, “I thought you were gone.” Your voice was soft, full of hurt and distress. He felt his throat tightening, burning as he thought about how much he missed you. He was a fool to ever stray away from you, to leave you on your own. 

“I thought about it,” He told you honestly, knowing there was no point in lying, “I don’t want to be like my dad.” He replied at last, getting down to the root of the issue. He didn’t want to accidentally lash out at you or at your future child. He never wanted that for him. It would be better to be alone. 

“You won’t,” You told him quickly, sternly as he exhaled deeply, “You’re not like your dad. I promise you.” You cupped his face softly, your hands smooth and gentle against his skin. He leaned against you, craving the feeling. 

“What if I lose control?” He asked at last as he drew his eyes over your features, taking in the way you were watching him. You sighed deeply as you rubbed your fingers across his skin. You looked deep in thought as you pressed your nails gently against his stubble. 

“You never did that at your swimming classes,” You reminded him, “You should come stay with me. Move in. It would be good for our baby.” You moved your hands to his neck, then to his shoulder and down to his hands. You gripped them slowly, pressing them against your growing tummy.

He stalled for the longest time, blinking slowly as he felt like the world was freezing around him. Underneath your skin he could feel your baby moving. He gulped, eyes wide as he felt the smallest smile curling against his lips. He exhaled deeply as he looked towards you again. 

“I don’t know.” He replied nervously as he felt his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking that it would be easier. He’d be closer for you, for the baby. If he was really going to do this, he needed to be near you. 

“You don’t have to marry me or anything,” You started, “Or be with me if that’s what you want.” You said sheepishly, looking embarrassed as you quickly looked away. He felt his heart shatter a bit again, worried that he had truly hurt you. 

“You have someone else?” He asked at last, worried that you had moved on. He had done wrong, but he really did love you. You were the only one he was passionate about. He wasn’t sure how to move on if you had found someone else. 

“No,” You responded with a smile, “But I just want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with us.” You nodded your head, but looked like that was hard to admit. He didn’t want you to be alone. Not anymore. 

“You make me happy,” He said at last, “We’ll work this out. I promise.” He said as he brought your hand up to his lips, savoring the feeling of your skin against his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling very regretful. He wouldn’t lose you again. 

When he returned home he felt odd, but not like he had in the past few months. He didn’t drink away his feelings, or drown his anger out with music. Instead, he worked on packing. He wasn’t going to be like Neil; not at all. He was going to be there for you. He was going to be there for his son. No matter how scared he was. He couldn’t let either of you down. 

“Where are you going?” Neil’s voice made him jump, surprising him as he paused with the article of clothing in his hands. He turned slowly, looking at the way Neil was leaning against the door frame. He had his hands crossed tightly over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. His features were stoic, like he was deciding whether he should be angry or not. 

“I’m moving out,” He said as he turned away, shoving the clothes back into his bag, “I uh, found a place.” Billy replied slowly as he finished zipping up his bag. He wondered how much he’d really be able to take with him. Probably not much if his dad got angry. 

“You moving in with that bitch?” Neil tilted his head up as he spoke, like he was trying to make himself taller. His eyes were sharp, cold as his gaze cut into Billy. He felt sick as he gulped harshly, trying to keep his tone at bay. 

“Don’t call her that.” Billy responded hotly, feeling defensive of you. You weren’t anything like that and you were letting him back into your life; just like that. You were everything and more to him and he wasn’t going to let Neil speak ill of you. 

“Is the kid yours or some little bastard?” His lip curled up in disgust as he spoke, his features filling with disappointment. Billy didn’t care. He was going to be happy with you. He wouldn’t be like Neil. Not ever. 

“Mine,” He said roughly, “And don’t you ever call him that.” He snatched up his bag, taking his few items with him as he moved forward. Neil scoffed as he shook his head, irritated as Billy pushed forward.

“She’s going to ruin your life,” He grumbled as he gripped Billy’s shoulder, holding him in place for a moment, “And don’t even think about crawling back. I won’t have you.” He said threateningly, like he might change Billy’s mind.

“I won’t come back.” Billy promised, stern with his answer as he walked past him. He wouldn’t let his son suffer the same way he had. They both deserved better than this. 

The rest of the months passed breezily, making him come to terms a little easier as your due date approached. He had done a lot of ass kissing, pleading and groveling until he got back on your good side. He brought you flowers every day, rubbed your feet after work and gave you plenty of kisses.

You complained about how you looked as the final weeks approached, but he thought that you looked beautiful. Stunning. In his opinion, you were glowing. He loved rubbing your tummy too, feeling like he got a deeper connection that way.

Your labor was messy, a little chaotic. Billy was terrified something would go wrong, but stayed close to you regardless. By the end of it, his hand was numb and his wrist aching from how tightly he’d been gripping you.

“Look at him,” You breathed out as you held the little boy in your arms, “He’s so cute.” You sniffled, looking like you were seconds away from breaking down again.

He stared and stared, memorizing his son's features as he came to terms that he was a father. He had a little boy, someone to take care of. He looked so fragile, so tiny. It made him nervous. He was fearful that he’d accidentally hurt him by holding him wrong, or by dropping him. He wasn’t sure how his rough hands were supposed to hold something so soft. 

"Billy," You breathed out quietly, making his throat grow raw as he stared down at the little boy. Soft blonde curls and the same sloped nose he had. Everything else about the little boy reminded him of you, "Are you crying?" You asked gently, making him feel even more emotional as he shook his head. 

“No,” He said hoarsely, doing everything in his power to keep from breaking down, “S’just a lot.” He mumbled as he wiped at his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose as he tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking, his heart thumping roughly inside of his chest. 

“I know,” You replied softly as you sat up a bit, gesturing the bundle in your arms towards him, “C’mon. You’ll feel better.” You reassured him, but he still felt hesitant. He pressed his fingertips together before he nodded, accepting the little baby from you.

Names hadn’t quite been figured out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He looked healthy, his cheeks full and fists clenched together as he stretched his arms out. Billy felt a small chuckle leave his neck, fighting over the sob that was threatening to burst free.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why he had been so nervous, or scared. As his son curled against his arms it felt natural, like he already knew what he was doing. He savored the warmth, the way the little baby cooed as he adjusted him in his arms. Everything felt right suddenly.

“I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you,” He promised as he kissed his little head, sighing deeply as he snuggled his little son towards him, “Not ever. I promise.” 

[reiderwriter]

The Us That Could Have Been

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader

Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!

W/C: 5.7k

Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.

Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.

A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 

Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 

“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 

“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 

“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 

“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 

“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 

“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 

“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 

“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 

–X–

A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 

Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.

The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 

If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 

The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 

It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 

Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 

You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 

“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 

“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 

You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 

Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 

“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 

The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 

The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 

“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 

“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 

“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 

“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”

“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 

“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.

“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 

“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 

He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 

–X– 

“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 

“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 

Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 

“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 

Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 

“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 

“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 

He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 

When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 

JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 

“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 

“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 

“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 

“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 

“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 

“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 

They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 

“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”

“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 

“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”

JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 

“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 

“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 

The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 

“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 

“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  

“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 

“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 

“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 

“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 

“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  

“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 

“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  

“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”

“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 

“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 

“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 

“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 

“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 

They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 

“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.

“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 

“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  

“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  

“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 

“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 

“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  

He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  

You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 

“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  

“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 

“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  

“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 

“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 

You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 

“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  

“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 

–X– 

The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?

Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 

“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”

Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  

“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  

“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 

He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 

“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  

“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 

He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 

“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 

“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 

–X– 

You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 

You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 

“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 

It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  

You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 

He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 

“I love you, please don’t cry.” 

“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 

“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 

“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 

He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  

“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 

“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 

Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 

He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 

“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 

“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 

“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 

“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 

“Why did you run away the other day?” 

“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”

“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 

“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 

“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 

“Y/N, please.” 

“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 

The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 

He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 

[chosopie]

DEALER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

cw: mentions of drugs

“It’s twenty thousand yen now,” you puff a ring of smoke to his scrunched up face.

“What the fuck? It was only ten thousand last time. Are you trying to fuck with me?” Sukuna clicked his tongue and looked away, trying his best to contain his frustration.

“Supply is getting expensive and I’ve got bills to pay,” you sighed.

“I don’t got enough on me right now,” he dug his hands into his pockets. “Can’t you give me a discount, doll? I’m a loyal customer.”

Doll. Did he really think he could sweet-talk his way out of this?

“No.”

“Come on,” Sukuna moved closer, placing his hand on the side of your arm and running them up and down. “Ten thousand and a little something else.”

You laughed. “What could that possibly be?”

Despite your desire for money, there were other things you desperately wanted. You were searching for a different kind of high no other drug could give you.

Sukuna’s face was now buried between your thighs while you were seated on the back seat of his car. His tongue aggressively swiped your folds, licking every droplet of your sweet juice. He was attached to your the same way a bee would be attached to a flower, drinking up the nectar until it was full; except, he was never full. He knew no limits.

If there was one thing Sukuna was known for, it was his appetite. He wasn’t just a foodie, he was also a munch. He ate you out like a starved man. He would nip and suck on your aching clit, leaving you shaking and breathless. Your hands gripped his messy pink hair and tugged on them while his name dripped out of your mouth along with some breathy moans.

You were so overwhelmed with pleasure, you felt your legs grow weak. You tried to close them, but Sukuna would force them open again. Every time you’d move, he’d stop and bite on the plump flesh of your thigh, leaving red teeth marks on them.

“So close to cumming,” you panted, drool running down your lip.

Sukuna smirked and wiped the spit off the corner of your lip. “Guess you didn’t need the other ten thousand after all.”

“Shut up. I’m charging you more next time.”

“Sure you will,” he rolled his eyes and chuckled.

His pace had quickened, and he put more pressure onto your poor clit. He kept licking and sucking, your juice smeared all over the bottom half of his face. His hands were firmly planted on your thighs, gripping them so tight his nails started digging into your skin. Your eyes were shut as you felt your climax coming, a warm and tight feeling swirled around your stomach and you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking. Sukuna groaned against your core, his tongue quickly working its way around your pussy.

“Fuck, ‘Kuna. Can’t hold it anymore.”

“Just cum on my face, pretty girl.”

Sukuna pushed his face deeper, his nose slightly nudging you while he continued to drag his tongue across your pussy. You moaned and squirmed as you reached your high, making a mess on Sukuna’s pretty face, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m looking forward to our next deal,” Sukuna winked at you and slipped another roll of cash into your pocket.

tags: @torureadz

[jamdoughnutmagician]

All The Way Down.

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Female Reader 

Summary:Bucky reminds you just how much of a super-soldier he really is.

Warnings:Smut, 18+, Oral Sex (F Recieving), Face-Sitting, Mentions of shitty past ex-boyfriends, Dirty Talk, Bucky eats pussy for his own pleasure

Word Count:1,232

Authour’s Note: I kinda wanted to try to get back into writing for Bucky since I hadn’t done so for a while so it might not be the best writing but it’s here and it’s filthy, so there’s that

also this is for all my fellow thick-gals who just want a super-soldier bf to tr-eat them right.

MASTERLIST

When it came to you, Bucky was insatiable. He was perfectly happy to be spread out on the bed on his stomach, with each of your thighs thrown over his shoulders whilst his tongue and fingers worked their magic on your pussy.

When he was in one of those moods, then there was very little that would be able to separate him from you.

And tonight he seemed to be in that particular mood, as he licked his tongue through your folds, gently as he helped to ride out the aftershocks of your second orgasm of the night. 

“Doll..Want you to sit on my face…please..” he mumbled as he placed sloppy kisses to the inside of your thigh.

That was something that, until now, you had been avoiding. He’d politely asked you about it before, trying to get from you what he so badly desired. You so far had swatted away his advances with a kind smile and a little white lie that you had been too tired. You’d always assumed that you were too heavy, and past boyfriends and hook-ups had been less than kind to you when it came to how to handle a bigger girl in the bedroom. So from then on, you tried to save yourself the embarrassment and opted rather to either lay back or to be on the giving end of pleasure.

Bucky couldn’t lie, your rejections had hurt his pride, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was a reason why you didn’t want to do this with him, and it wasn’t because you were too tired. 

His mind ran through all the times you’d been together in the bedroom (and the few occasions outside of the bedroom too) and all the things that you’d done together, when he suddenly came around to the thought that not only had you never ridden his face, you’d also never been on top of him. That wasn’t right, he thought to himself. That needed to change right away and he was going to get you on top of him one way or another.

“It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to do that.” you say sweetly as you run your fingers through his hair from between your thighs.

“No, I know I don’t have to do it, but I want to. Want you to ride my face, Sweets.” he says with such a sweet earnestness that it almost breaks your heart with how much he loves you and wants to please you.

“Buck, please…”  you say as you withdraw your legs from over his shoulders and pull them up to your chest, sitting at the head of the bed.

“I’ve never pressed you about this, I’ve never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable, but you’ve never wanted to be on top..like ever…and I just have to ask, why?” his steely grey-blue eyes looking at you in question.

You felt safe with Bucky. Safer than you had ever felt with any of your past boyfriends. He was sweet to you, and he deserved the truth. 

Huffing out a breath to steady your nerves you looked at your boyfriend before speaking.

“I know I’m not the daintiest of girls, okay? I’m bigger and heavier than most girls, and I guess past boyfriends always made me feel insecure about being on top.” you explained.

Bucky listened carefully as you talked through your feelings.

“So, just to save myself the embarrassment and stop the insecurities creeping in, I always decline to get on top. I know most guys aren’t going to enjoy being squashed underneath me” you chuckle that last part, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m not most guys, Doll.” He says to you confidently. 

You look at him, not totally understanding where he was going with this, so you let him continue.

“It seems as though you’ve forgotten that your boyfriend is a super-soldier, Doll.” he smiles “I promise you I’m strong enough to handle anything you throw my way, and believe me when I tell you that I would be happy man with a pretty thing like you sat on my face. I wanna fuckin’ drown in you, sweets.” he finishes, his voice dropping to a seductive growl and coming over to you to place a hungry kiss on your lips.

Looking deep in your eyes once more, he gives you a cheeky wink before laying on his back stretched out with his head resting on his hands 

“C’mon dollface, what are you waiting for? Your throne awaits.” His cheeky charm never fails to make you blush. 

You make your way over to him, cautiously swinging your leg over his body until you were straddling his chest, hovering over him.

“My face is up here, Sweets” he says, tapping his fingers to his chin to prove his point.

You shuffled further up his body until you’re hovering over his face, and you could see his lazy smile between your thighs.

You feel both his strong arms wrap themselves around your thighs, the contrast of the warmth of his hand and the metal of his other hand is a strangely grounding feeling that you welcome wholeheartedly. 

“I said sit on my face, sweets, none of this hovering, I want you to sit all the way down.” he growls before he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you close.

His tongue ran the length of your pussy, lapping up the dripping wetness of your arousal. He was tasting you as though he was a man starved, the rumbling vibrations of his moans and groans sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly you found your hips rocking themselves against your boyfriend's face, the tip of his nose nudging at your clit had you letting out shameless moans above him.

You can feel his cheeky smirk underneath you.

“That’s it sweets, ride my fuckin’ face…Taste so fuckin’ sweet…” his words are slurred as his tongue drinks you in.

He flicks his tongue over your clit a few times, before swirling around and then moving to suck it between his plump pink lips. The feeling of his scruffy beard against the soft skin of your thighs is a pleasing burn as your thighs clench themselves around his head.

Your hands have found themselves tangled in his hair, thankful that he had chosen to grow it longer again, needing something to ground yourself as you found your head swimming with pleasure.

He knew you were close, he’d seen you desperate for release many times before, he continued tonguing your clit as you whined above him.

“Fuck…Baby Please..feels so good..” 

“That’s it doll, let go for me, sweets..let me taste you..” he slurs continuing to help you roll your hips over his face.

It all felt too good. Too good and too much. The tightening knot in the pit of your stomach snapping, and your orgasm rushing over you as your hips slow to stuttering movements. His tongue laps slow stripes over your wet cunt as you come crashing down from your high.

You swing your body to lie next to him, your chest heaving with breaths you break the silence that had fallen between you both.

“I do believe it’s my turn to return the favour, Sarge” you say sweetly as your lips begin kissing a trail down his toned abs.

“Well…I ain’t ever gonna say no to that, Dollface.”

[moonstruckme]

Hiya Mae!! How are you?? It’s been a little bit but I was hoping I could request a poly!marauders fic (+plus Lily if you’re comfortable with doing that if not it’s fine). This week is the 6th anniversary of my brothers passing and this year is a bit harder as I’m turning 18. Having such a milestone coming up and him not being here is sorta making me sick. I was wondering if maybe you could base the fic off of that? Or something to do with grief and them helping reader out. I’ve found great comfort in the abundance of love you portray with their relationship and I could do with a lil of it.

If not it’s totally fine don’t feel obligated. Hope you have a good week!!

Hi sweetheart, sorry I couldn't get this to you during the week you requested it. I was also dealing with a bit of grief at the time and it felt too raw to try for a while. I hope you're doing well and that you really enjoy being 18, even if those feelings are complicated by your loss <33

cw: mentions of death, grief

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 622 words

The sky is turning from deep blue to black outside when Sirus notices you’ve slipped into a melancholy. 

The only hint of it is in your tone. You’ve been quipping about the film you’re all watching like you always do, bouncing off his and James’ comments and Remus’ amused grunts, but there’s a falsity to the cheer in your voice. This is something you and James have in common; when Sirius or Remus are upset it permeates the area around them like a thick fog, but the two of you have a way of keeping it contained within yourselves, putting on counterfeit smiles. Sirius often wonders if it doesn’t hurt you more. 

He leans away from where he’s been resting his head on Remus’ pectoral, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” he asks quietly. 

You shrug. Swallow. “Just thinking about them,” you murmur in reply. 

Sirius suspects this isn’t the full story, but he, too, knows the necessity of papering over certain pains. He doesn’t pry. 

Before the war—before Regulus—Sirius used to think that grief was the pain that came from the love you had for the lost person being ripped away from you. But even months after his brother’s death, all the love is still there. It’s amplified, if anything, every ounce of it demanding attention now that he can no longer take it for granted even a little bit. 

What went was the ritual of it all. The peculiar brand of happiness he’d felt around Reg, never easy but still there, buried beneath layers of troubled history and shared broodiness. The inside jokes they’d barely realized they had, things no one who wasn’t raised in their house would see the humor in. The surety that if they fought, they’d get a chance to make up. Sirius will never have those things with his brother again. In memories, maybe, but now they’ll always be tinged with the love so big it hurts. 

He wishes desperately he could keep you from hurting like that. 

He shuffles closer, awkwardly wrapping his other arm around you until he’s nearly covering your body with his. It’s like he thinks he can shield you, like he can protect you from grief after he’d failed to protect you from loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head, turning so it’s jammed in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your face feels hot. “I don’t know what to do,” you choke out. 

Sirius squeezes you tighter. He gets it, but he doesn’t. He knows how it feels to grieve, but not how to grieve your person in your way. It’s an ache he can only approximate. 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds pained, and he gets up from Remus’ other side, rounding the couch to climb onto the armrest beside you. He rubs your back with one hand, the other coming to rest on Sirius shoulder, a comfort in case he needs it. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, my love.” 

Sirius feels a hot tear slip down his neck into his shirt, and James winces as your shoulders hitch under his touch. Remus makes a soft pitying sound. 

“You’re alright.” He latches onto the last unclaimed part of you, rough hand soothing up your calf. “You’re okay.” 

“Sorry,” you manage, and Sirius squishes you punishingly in his arms, pressing a staunch kiss to the side of your head. 

“Don’t be silly,” he tells you. James makes a half-choked sound of agreement. “No sorries, okay?” 

You nod, the bump of your nose moving against Sirius’ neck. He gives you another kiss to show his approval. 

“You’re alright, darling,” Remus says again. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got you.” 

[reverie-starlight]

I miss knb and I wanted to write something for aomine :’) I’ve never written for him and it’s been a while since I’ve watched the show, so forgive me if you feel that his characterization is a bit off. hello from late january cause that’s when I’m queuing this 👋🏻

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. lots and lots and lots of fluffy pet names bc that’s the focus of the drabble. he calls you shnookums once just to annoy you bc he’s a little shit. that’s a warning in itself tbh. mentions of alcohol/drunk character. characters written as adults, not high schoolers.

aomine has specific nicknames for you depending on the situation you find yourselves in.

he reserves “babe” or some shortened variation of your name for when you’re in public.

it’s quick, it’s casual, and it doesn’t get him a lecture on why it’s not funny to very loudly address you as “shnookums” when you get separated at the grocery store.

(though in his defence, he thought it worked wonders. you were back at his side within seconds after straying too far on accident with a half embarrassed, half pissed off look on your face. he thought it was hilarious.)

~~~

he calls you “baby” when he greets you after a long day at work. when he’s picking you up from your classes. normally only in your presence, because he doesn’t need the teasing remarks about how soft he’s become from his teammates.

not that he really cares at the end of the day- he’ll call you what he wants to call you (provided you also like it, of course) but there’s something less casual about it that makes him want to keep it just for you.

that “something” being the time you got drunk and offhandedly mentioned loving the way it sounds in his voice. he now gets to enjoy the small, barely noticeable uptick of your lips whenever he opts for it. no one else gets to see that.

he’ll help you with your coat and press a kiss to your hairline, murmuring a soft “hey baby, missed you today”.

it’s probably the most common of the names he uses on you out of all the available options.

~~~

he saves the saccharine pet names for when he knows you’re not feeling your best. whether you’re mentally drained, physically exhausted or sick to any degree, there’s never not a time when hearing him be sickeningly sweet with you doesn’t ease the pain.

“need anything else, sweetheart?”

“how are you feeling, gorgeous?”

“yeah, we can cuddle, doll, c’mere.”

these are also the times he plays up the compliments (more than usual).

“even when you’re sick, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. don’t let it get to your head, though. or do- I know how to deal with that just fine, too.”

~~~

he doesn’t have one set nickname for you when you visit him at practice, but when you watch him play in an official game?

as long as you’ve known him, he’s never believed in luck- he got himself to where he is with his skills, luck had nothing to do with it.

so it surprises you the first time he refers to you as his good luck charm. it’s not said in some grand gesture, not brought up in those fluff promotional interviews when reporters ask him if he has one.

it’s whispered quietly into your ear before he jogs onto the court.

a murmured thank you against your lips as soon as he’s running off again, high on a win, straight to you.

you ask him about it one day and he just shrugs. “everything is different now. I play better when I know you’re watching, it’s energizing in a way I’ve never felt before. you’re right, I still don’t believe in luck, but somehow I was able to find you. and I don’t know if I would call that luck, either, but until I find a better way to explain it you’re just gonna have to put up with that title a bit longer.”

so you do, without complaints, because it’s cute trying to watch him convey his feelings honestly and still in a very aomine way.

~~~

your absolute favourite nickname that he’s given you, though? angel.

you’re his angel.

the title is first appointed when you pick him up one night from a bar after celebrating with his team. his usually brooding expression visibly lights up when he sees you and he makes his way over. it’s been a while since he’s been this drunk, so it makes you laugh when he stumbles over and throws an arm around your shoulders.

“what a sweetheart, you really came to pick me up?”

you scoff and try to get him into the car, waving at his teammates who were staying with him until you got there. “what, baby, you thought I wouldn’t?”

he shrugs with an absentminded grin. “it’s just nice to have a… battle angel or whatever that term is. I dunno what it is.”

you can’t help but laugh. “you mean a guardian angel?”

“same thing, you knew what I meant!” his words are slurred and he’s now leaning his entire body weight against you.

“oh you are so wasted, daiki, let’s get you home.”

and it’s whispered again at home as he’s falling asleep, “my angel… thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

your heart squeezes.

now it’s reserved for only the most intimate of moments with him- he doesn’t want to overuse the name and risk it losing its meaning.

because it does hold a deeper, unspoken meaning between the two of you.

after a long time apart because of his away games? after he wins an important match? loses a match and he’s thankful you’re there with him? you get a promotion at work? you pass a difficult class with flying colours? all situations where he’d call you angel.

he has a full arsenal of names for you, clearly, and you love every single one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this feels a bit messy. even after editing, I feel like the quality went down a bit, so we’ll see if I end up posting it. but I love him a lot and I’ve been rewatching knb, so I needed to do something for him to keep the brainrot at bay.

tagging: @dira333

[mossyeyeballs]

TW: mentions of pretty much everything terrible. 🍇, trafficking, all of the above.

CLASS OF 09 RANT, FLIP SIDE SPOILERS

Ok not my usual post (I’ve posted twice ik but shush) but what the freak was the flip side??….. I was a huge fan of class of 09 + the re up but this game was so.. what’s the word….. dog shit? Even if we ignore half of the game being about the creators weird foot fetish, the sl@ve ending was so unnecessary. I feel like the only thing in that route that was worth writing was the issue in retail work and that wasn’t even the star focus, let alone side focus. The main plot of that route was the counselor having some weird illegal 🌽 warehouse, jecka finding it, and then him blackmailing her into human 🚙 🚙 ing?

The only ending I thought was necessary IF THAT was when Jecka found Nicole after the sue a side ending from re up. I thought it did a decent job at talking about sue a side victims, and how nobody really cares about them until it’s too late, And even then they only care for a week or so and then move on.

But the Jeffery dying one was the most out of place in my opinion (unfortunately it beats the foot ending.) For starters, Nicole was really out of character imo, like yeah she’s talked about wishing Jeffery was dead before, but her actually killing him just out of boredom is so odd. Her entire character is “I don’t put effort into anything unless it benefits me.” Killing Jeffrey was not only ALOT of effort, but she gained absolutely nothing. On top of that, saying it’s different than doing. Like how she talked about wishing her mom was dead, but then when she had a heart attack, she panicked. Plus, she PLANNED on making Jecka take some of the blame on his death, which she stated in past games she wouldn’t do. She literally never put Jecka in harms way, let alone jail if it didn’t also benefit them both. But this didn’t, she just did it to do it.

While we’re talking about Nicole being out of character, I feel it valid to mention her and Jeckas dad. For obvious (and gross) reasons, I won’t be detailing this, but her doing that to Jecka wasn’t fully out of character, but still odd. Like I mentioned earlier, Nicole never really did anything to spite Nicole, so I find it odd that she did in this game. You could blame it on “oh she’s a sociopath she doesn’t care.” But I don’t think that’s inherently true. Yeah, I guess it’s canon she’s a sociopath, but in that case they do a bad job at consistency. She’s shown in both games 1 and 2 caring about people she’s close with, whether it’s Jecka, her mom, or even Emily in one segment. So I find it completely random that she did this to Jecka over something as small as not sharing how she got into foot work. Jeckas done much worse stuff to Nicole, and Nicole just didn’t care because they were friends, or didn’t feel the need to put effort into doing something if she did care. So yeah, Nicole basically screwing Jeckas dad over something so little felt out of character.

One of the few things that bothered me the least, but I feel the need to mention was the foot work stuff. Not because it was out of character, i fear I’ve seen worse stuff mentioned in that game. But I guess the way it was portrayed as less of a story plot and more of the creator trying to live out his fantasies. He himself has stated Jeffrey is basically a self insert, so the whole being sexually obsessed with Jecka and her feet felt REALLY weird. Compared to Nicole’s my space favor thing, this just felt dirty. For comparison. Both Jecka and Nicole took up sex work to keep a home life or lackthereof, they both got money from strangers to do sexual things, and they both hated doing it. But why did Jeckas feel so much more personal and gross? Because the actual sex work was shown. In graphic detail. And all of Jeffrey’s (the creators) personal thoughts were stated with no backlash. Jeffery literally asked Jecka if she would 🍒feed him, and he was excused. When Nicole was asked the same hing from the same guy, he was insulted, yelled at, even told to leave.

So, creepy creator who’s obsessed with his barely legal characters, Jecka being sold to 🚙 🚙ing agaisnt her will, Jeffrey being murdered for no reason other than a giggle or two from his haters, Jecka accidentally killing Ari cause she was drunk driving, feet fan service, and fan service in general aside, the game is left only with the regular drug and alcohol abusage we always see. which in the game that was advertised as a new experience felt really stale and honestly left me bored. The ONE SINGULAR time during this game that I giggled was when the hat man appeared in the Ari route.

If you’ve fully ignored everything I said in this, maybe didn’t care, or didn’t even read it. Id just like to mention for everyone that the creator of this game said that anybody who disliked him, his games, his writing, or his humor were kid diddlers. In full seriousness. So yeah, no shock this game was bad, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected better from someone who thinks his haters are all child likers. All this being said, I enjoyed class of 09, and the re up. I’m hoping the anime episode that comes out soon with be a decent save. all of THAT being said, I don’t support this creator. I don’t support his actions, I think he’s a shitty person who’s made some shitty jokes, but made some not so shitty games that I decently enjoyed. I also haven’t bought them, so none of my money has gone towards him or his projects. I in NO WAY support him. Thanks for reading.

Feel free to comment down some of your own opinions if you feel so inclined, I’m interested in what everyone else thought of this game :))

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - His denial (Part VIII)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 //

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of crying several times, hard times for reader and for Bruce, language, ANGST and more ANGST

“You know Ma, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me what happened between you and Bruce, but we’re all wondering why you broke up with him?” Jason asked you as he was helping you prepare a meal for the two of you. “Also, everyone's a little bit worried you won’t be our mother figure no more.” he added

“I’ll send a message on our group chat to let you kids know that I’m still there for you, no matter what happened between Bruce and I.” you replied instantly. 

You loved those kids as if they were yours and you were eager to keep taking care of them, even if it wasn’t at the manor anymore.

“Good to know,” Jason hummed and kissed your cheek. 

He would have been devastated if you had run away from his life, like all the adults that were supposed to care for him - apart from Alfred, of course. And he was well aware that all the other children - adopted or not by Bruce - loved you. You were bringing some peace and joy in everyone’s lives. That was why they nicknamed you “Hope” for when they talk to you over the comm’s. 

“And I didn’t break up. We agreed on it, Bruce and I.” you finally said, to which Jason arched an eyebrow. 

“Really? That’s not what he said”.

“Well, we agreed that I’m a civilian and that it was making things too difficult. Bruce has also been very busy and… I don’t know, maybe it was just not working anymore” you explained, trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible.

You had spent the whole night crying over this break up. You had never been heartbroken like that before. You loved Bruce like you never loved anyone before. You just didn’t want to resume crying in front of Jason.

“Bruce can be an asshole… But I really don’t think he meant to make you feel neglected” Jason frowned

“Are you taking his defence now?” you softly teased to hide your sadness away

“No, never. Just… He loves you” Jason whispered

“I don’t think so. But that’s okay. I never thought I’d date someone for so long anyway. And I’ve meet all of you, and I’m very grateful for that”

“Ma…” Jason started but you cut him off

“I don’t really want to keep talking about him” you said and Jason dropped the subject

You did your best to forget about this conversation. You didn’t want to hear the little voice in your head saying that maybe Bruce was still in love with you, but was too stupid to let you know about it. 

You managed to push the voice away, until during an interview with Bruce Wayne, the journalist asked him if it was true you were not together anymore. You hadn’t meant to watch this interview, but your boss needed you to write an article about it. At the question, you couldn't help but fully focused on the TV and you caught a glimpse of vulnerability flashing across Bruce’s face. Only people who knew him well enough could have seen it. He quickly smiled at the journalist. 

“We’re only taking a break, nothing permanent” he instantly replied and you stared at the TV, thinking “wait what??” 

“Oh so, you’re not open to any new relationship?” the journalist asked “A lot of women in Gotham are eager to know if they have a chance with you or not. Men too. And everyone else, really”.

Bruce softly chuckled, but you could tell he was actually quite uneasy

“No, I’m not open to any new relationship. I still belong to Y/N.” he replied and you started to cry again.

You hated him for lying so blatantly in front all the whole city. He didn’t belong to you, you would know otherwise. You felt so sad, so angry. You hated yourself for having fallen for a man like him.

“Belong to? Quite a strong expression. Are you in love, Mr. Wayne?” the journalist hummed in interest

“Now I believe you didn’t ask me to come to talk about my romantic relationship” Bruce quickly changed the subject, but no need to say you started to cry even harder.

Of course he wouldn’t say he loved you, because he didn’t. You didn’t want to be such a mess again so you turned the TV off.

But a few instants later you received messages from the kids asking you if it was true that it was just a break and that you would come back home at some point. They were all so adorable, saying they understood if you needed to take a breath from the Batfamilly, especially when things were so difficult in Gotham. They promised to keep protecting you no matter what anyways.

You had no idea what to answer at first. You didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Eventually you told them the truth: “I’ve told you I’m still there for you as well, and I’m touched you are all so eager to have me back at the manor… But in all honesty, I’m not too certain what is going on and why Bruce said all of this. I don’t want to talk to him, but I guess you can ask him directly”

No need to say that everyone was pretty disappointed in your answer and that none of them asked about it to Bruce.

You didn’t want to go back to the manor. You didn’t want to run into Bruce. You thought several times to ask the children to grab your belongings for you, but it would mean for them to come into Bruce’s room and the man wouldn't be happy about it. They were welcomed to come into his room only when they needed help or reassurance after a nightmare. You could also tell that the children didn’t know how to deal with the break up.

You didn’t want to force them to be in between Bruce and you. 

Unfortunately you needed clothes from his place because you were soon going out of Gotham for a couple of days. You waited until the last minute to finally go back to the manor.

Everyone was out, except Alfred who greeted you with a warm smile. His smile flattered when you told him you needed to take some belongings from there. He didn’t stop you. However you were certain that he sent a message to Bruce.

You were in a pretty dark mood. Your mother had discovered your father wasn’t dead. You were a little bit surprised that the Batfamilly wasn’t on the case yet. Maybe Falcone did a good job to hide things away. Or maybe no one wanted to deal with something that might end up hurting you. 

Either way, you knew things were going to be hard and your mother was going to hate you for having lied to her about your father. You wished things would have been better with Bruce, because you would have loved to have someone with you. You didn’t want to drag the children in this mess, so once again it was you alone against your past.

You jumped when you heard Bruce’s soft voice talking to you. You had been so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard him gently opening the door.

“What are you doing?” he leaned against the door frame to seem relaxed but you could tell he was watching you with great intensity and concern.

You wouldn’t have believed it if he would have told you, but watching you removing your belongings from your shared room was eating him up alive. He needed all his willpower to not prevent you from doing so. When you resumed your action of packing away, he felt his chest tightened.

“Packing. Need to go see my mom. Some stuff happened with my dad… And I need to deal with this mess.” you explained

“Anything I can do?” he offered

“Of course not. You have enough to deal with anyways.” you shrugged “By the way, I won’t be able to grab everything right away, so I’ll probably come back for the remaining things. Obviously you can send everything to my flat if you don’t want me to come again” you added, looking for a brief instant back to him

“Look, Y/N, I guess this isn’t the right time to speak with you, but can we maybe plan something for when you’ll be back to Gotham?” Bruce offered, almost pleading with you

“You mean to speak about how we went from “we agree to break up” to “you break up” and finally to “this is just a break”, Bruce?” You paused and turned around to fully watch him this time. 

Bruce moved a hand into his hair. He had no idea how to fix your relationship.

“You broke up. For my answer to the journalist... It was just easier to say that” Bruce tried and you rolled your eyes at him. 

He internally cringed, why wasn’t he able to say the right thing when he was already missing you so dearly?

“Whatever, Bruce.” you finally said

“So yes for a date when you’ll be back?” he insisted

“Whatever, Bruce” you said again which hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

--

PART 9

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

@elleclairez

@mindless-rock

@lumiqou

[cookiescribble]

First Day

A/N: this has been in my head for a long time because I have random trivial star trek knowledge and whenever they show spencer talking about star trek in the show i go all heart eyes so I wrote a little blurb 🫶🏻 also I had fem!reader in mind when I wrote this but I realized I didn’t actually make any references to gender so 🤷🏻 - mod angel 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer bonds with his new coworker over Star Trek. 

~~~

It was my first day at the BAU, and I was a little… intimidated being here. I had been mostly keeping my head down and staying quiet, since social interaction wasn’t something I was great at. I was okay just watching the others interact with each other for now. 

“Hey, kid,” Derek called out, beckoning Spencer. “I need your help with the crossword.”

Spencer walked over to Derek’s desk, which was next to mine. “What’s up?” he asked. 

Derek pointed to the newspaper with his pencil. “7 across: James _ Kirk (Star Trek). 8 letters.”

Tiberius, I thought instinctively. I considered saying it out loud, but he hadn’t asked me, so I decided to stay quiet. 

“Tiberius,” Spencer said, almost as fast as I had thought it. 

I smiled to myself. I was always the only one who knew about geeky stuff. Until now, I guess. 

Derek finished filling in the crossword. “Thanks. I knew it was always James T. Kirk, but I didn’t know what it stood for.”

Without thinking, I spoke up. “Actually, in the third episode of The Original Series, someone who’s fighting Kirk prepares a gravestone for him and it says James H. Kirk.”

Everyone turned to look at me, staring at me with open mouths. I blushed. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But now I felt uncomfortable sitting in this silence. 

I cleared my throat. “Um. So. Yeah. It wasn’t always James T. Kirk, as you said. They didn’t mention his full initials until-“

“Episode 13: The Conscience of the King.” Spencer cut me off, his eyes lighting up like he had been dying to talk about this. He walked over to my desk and leaned on the front of it. “The first time they mention it is when Spock is checking his background and speaks it into the computer.”

I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, and they don’t mention the name Tiberius until the 6th movie, The Undiscovered Country.”

“Oh my god, there are two of them,” I heard Emily say. 

Either Spencer didn’t hear her or he was purposefully ignoring her. “Actually…” he started, sitting on my desk. He was bouncing a little. “The first time the name Tiberius is mention is in The Animated Series episode BEM.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” I admitted. “I’ve never actually seen The Animated Series. Actually, I’ve only ever seen part of The Original Series…”

That only made him sit up straighter. “Do you want to watch it? I have every episode on DVD. I’d be happy to show it to you sometime.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’ve always wanted to finish watching it, and watch the other shows too. If you don’t mind me imposing…”

He shook his head. “I don’t mind at all. Not a lot of people I know are interested in Star Trek, so I’m happy to show it to you if you’re interested. You can come by my apartment sometime and we can watch it.”

I nodded. “That sounds great. I appreciate it.”

I heard people whispering in the distance. 

“Did he just-“

“Shh, don’t say anything, you’ll jinx it. I think this is the first time in history that this has ever worked.”

“And probably the last time it will ever work. This is definitely a unique circumstance.”

I blushed a little as I heard everyone talking about us, but I continued chatting comfortably with Spencer for a while before everyone was interrupted by the news that we had a case. But I was really relieved that, despite feeling so overwhelmed about starting this job, I had been able to make a friend on my first day.

[henneseyhoe]

Devotion.

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: DARK THEMES, cult behavior, cult leader!Lewis, Idolizing, blasphemy(kinda?? idk girl), mentions of religion(no specifics), SMUT, unprotected (wrap it before ya smack it), mind broken reader, stockholm syndrome (not written in but kinda implied), breeding k*nk, short.

SUMMARY: Lewis chooses you.

✮✮✮✮

Was he really as sadistic as the papers said? How could he be when he was so sweet to me?

He nursed me back to health when iIl, when I was at my lowest, he lifted me in spirit. He gave me hope when I had none. He gave me something to believe in. He would never hurt me, he wouldn’t violently touch a hair on my head. He was consistently perfect. He was what all men should have been.

Dressed in black gowns, all of my sisters stood around with roses propped in their hands, veils on their heads and envy in their eyes. I’ve been there before. Envious of any woman that was next to him. Now I no longer remember what that felt like.

“You may kiss the bride”

I heard from beside me. My heart instantly swoll ten times it’s size. He took me by the hand and brought me closer to him before lifting the white veil over my head. His hand grazed my cheek and his lips hovered over mine. I could physically feel his breath over me. It confirmed that he was indeed real. He wasn’t just a vessel or embodiment of the purest form of a prophet, he was now also my partner. I was one step closer to heaven.

Hours later after dragged out sessions of meditation and eating food served on fine china, I found myself finally feeling solace.

I use to deeply craved to be with him at all times, not just to be in the same room to read or pray. Now he was touching me. Breathing the same air as me, taking my breath away with each stroke of his fingers. He told me he was getting me ready, his lips hovering above mine. He breathed in every sigh I made and the thought of my oxygen entering his lungs made me grateful.

He told me he would break me before making me whole again. He reminded me the entire time that this was just the beginning before I truly became the woman I was always supposed to be. His.

Yes, I was one of the many women, but I was the one. He told me.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl”

I kneeled before him, him only on one knee like when he proposed. A puddle of my own release was beneath me with his fingers still deep inside, pressing against the spongy part of my walls until I came again, my body slumping against his. My mouth had been wide open, unable to close for longer than a few seconds before another moan was exiting. Drool dripped from the sides of my mouth and he easily wiped it clean with his tongue like nothing, tasting the wine he offered earlier on me.

I was like that for what felt like hours until he allowed me to taste him. My mouth had never been on him like this before, before I couldn’t remember if he had ever touched me at all.

My jaw ached and my throat was sore, but he kept pushing and I took it just for the approval. I hear quiet sighs, moans that were almost whimpers above me, him looking down at the sight. His eyes were darker than before, pink lips parted to whisper out my name every time i’d take him completely, not coming up until I physically gagged and was forced to pull back.

When I disconnected from him there were strings of my spit still attached to him and he took the liberty to tap the tip of himself against my swollen lips, watching me flinch with the first few pops.

We transitioned for the third time that night and I began to wonder if the other women got the same treatment. He couldn’t be this great for all of them, I had to be special.

“You’re doing so good”

He breathed into my neck, arms wrapped around the front of my body as he rutted his hips into me. It felt as if I was on my knees all night, and I was tired, but he told me if I prayed with him on my knees, then everything else sacred needed to be done that way too.

His hand squeezed at the front of my throat and his other caressed up and down the side of my ribcage, tracing the tattoo of his name written into my skin with his fingers. I had his name symbols of him on multiple parts of my body, each place he had kissed tonight.

“You listen so much better than any of the other ones. That’s why I picked you. That’s why you’re my favorite”

He confessed into my ear, sharp teeth grazing the shell of it before they pressed onto the skin of my neck, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

I could feel the knocking of his tip inside of my stomach somehow, the spasms of my walls supplying him with just the amount of grip he needed to finish, the grip he claimed to have been thinking of since laying eyes on me.

My breathing hitched, then sped up and synched to each pound, pathetic whines leaving my mouth on impact. Every sensation felt so much more real now, I could feel everything. The wet skin of his chest pressed firmly against my back, the slapping of his hips against my ass which I was sure was slightly bruised by now, the scratching of his low cut nails against my curves.

Even if he broke skin, I knew not to fret. He’d lick me up again if I asked.

He lets me go and allows my weak body to fall flat on his bed, his hips still never stuttering as he follows after me, dipping his hips low while simultaneously lifting mine to meet him pound for pound.

My time was now. Now was the moment for me to prove that I was truly his, that I was ready to be saved for the rest of my mortal life, that I was in fact the best partner and the most devoted. That’s what he needed, what he deserved. Devotion.

With each question he managed to ask while somehow keeping his pace, I nod with no hesitation whatsoever as his hand slips down under and in between my wet thighs to rub at my sensitive bud, my body jerking so intensely that he slipped out of me mid stroke and his free hand wasted no time to help put himself back in and build up his momentum again.

“Would you give me a child, darling? Would you like to play a part in what greatness is to come?”

He already had babies. 10 of them and counting. But he asked me to carry the one he chose, and I was no one to tell him no and starve his desire.

✮✮✮✮

💌~ did yall like it? yes, no? 🥴 also i know yall TIRED of the short fics 😭 sorryyy lmfao

[robinsno1lesbian]

Hi! So i have an idea for some Nancy smut because we are in desperate need of it!(at least i am)

Imagine you and Nancy have been roomates in college for about 3 months but,ever since you first laid eyes on her,you can’t get her out of your mind. You know that Nancy is probably not into girls and that she would never like someone she met 3 months ago,but this felt right.

However, you are way too scared to speak up and tell her about your feelings, because you are shy and awkward,but also because you were pretty sure she would reject you,Until one day,you were exhausted from how much you were studying and even though you knew it was wrong,you decided to ‘relax’ by masturbating,letting your imagination run free with thoughts of Nancy. And of course,when she gets back to the dorm weirdly earlier than usual,she catches you whispering her name as you hump a pillow you secretly stole from her.

So sorry for the long request,i added way too many details but i’ve had this idea for so long i memorised it:’)

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

-n.w. x reader

summary: falling in love with your roommate in college, who happens to be nancy wheeler (because, honestly, who wouldn’t fall in love with her?) (3k)

warnings: SMUT!! masturbation, pillow humping, r gets caught, mention of oral sex, strap-ons & sex toys, vaginal fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, darling), as always: i didn’t beta read before posting, let me know if i missed anything! :)

a/n: thank you so much for the request anon! don’t worry about it being “too long” or “too detailed”!! i love receiving new requests!! anyway i hope you like this! <3

things had been great. they’d been perfect, even. the day you got the acceptance letter from emerson, you’d been bouncing off the walls, happy to finally leave your small town behind.

they’d been great, still, when you learned who your roommate would be. she seemed nice, from the things you were told about her: nancy wheeler. from an equally small town somewhere in indiana. majoring in investigative journalism. and you thought, you really thought, maybe the two of you would become great friends.

and unfortunately for you, you did.

nancy was a great roommate from the start. she’s reliable, probably more than you are yourself, and caring. the kind of roommate who puts effort into really knowing you: she arranges movie nights and dinners together to have conversations.

she’s as old as you are, meaning you’ll graduate the same year, and often talks about her hometown, about some ex boyfriend of hers back in indiana and her family there.

nancy always waits until you’ve finished your breakfast or dinner before getting up, she helps you with your chores and even offers to help with your studying when she’s not too busy.

and, while you appreciate all of this, it’s slowly but surely driving you mad. nancy is.

she’s gorgeous, that’s the first thing you learned about her when the two of you met: brunette perm that’s framing sharp features and sapphire eyes, always watching you. her touch is firmer than you would expect, judging by her height and rather petite physique, and it seems to linger on you more often than not; her hands moving you by the waist to reach the dishwasher, fingers curling around your wrist when there’s a jumpscare in the horror film you’re watching together.

none of this would be a problem, if it wasn’t for the way it makes your heart flutter. it reminds you of falling in love for the very first time all over again: the secrecy of being head over heels for a girl you will never have. you thought that nancy wheeler would just be another one of those presumably straight girls who’ll never know how much you really liked them.

and while you were convinced you’d get over it in the first couple of weeks, it only got worse over time.

the more you learned about her, the more you fell for your roommate: you figured how she takes her coffee (black, no sugar or cream), and that she, for some reason, knows a whole lot about guns. you learned to love each of her facial expressions, from that tight lipped smile she’ll occasionally offer you, to the frown on her face when she’s trying to figure something out.

by the time your exams are right around the corner, you’re hopelessly in love with nancy wheeler.

you should be focused on nothing but studying and yet your roommate is all you can think about.

even when you’re sitting by the desk in your room, behind a pile of books and notes, you can’t stop your stupid mind from wandering.

you flip your pen around your index finger, groaning quietly as you find yourself rereading the same paragraph for the third time in a row without actually taking in the words. it’s all just one big blur.

if nancy was here, you find yourself thinking, she would praise you for the hard work. she would run her fingers up and down your shoulders from behind, her breath hot against the side of your neck…

“you’re working so hard sweetheart” imaginary nancy whispers in your head. “see? you’re all tense. god, darling, let me help you with that, yeah?”

you groan and bury your face in your hands. you can feel yourself throbbing in your pants and it’s pathetic.

you wonder if nancy would think so too, as you press the heels of your hands against your eyes. if she would scold you once she feels your slick against her fingertips, mock you for the amount of wetness and-

“fuck, fuck, fuck” you mutter, slamming your pen down onto the table top in frustration.

there’s no point in studying like this: when you’re practically soaking through your panties.

perhaps, you think, you just need a little stress relief. ever since you had moved in with nancy, you’ve made sure to keep quiet when it came to that. you had always slammed a hand over your mouth whenever you would be touching yourself in the quiet of the night. even after making sure nancy was asleep, you had made sure that your roommate wouldn’t hear the quiet whimpers of her name that would fall from your lips whenever you’d get close.

it was disgusting, you knew, perverted even. to get off to the thought of her and reach your height with nancy’s name on your lips, to close your eyes and picture her and the way she would sometimes come to the breakfast table in nothing but an oversized shirt and a pair of underwear that you’d catch a glimpse of whenever she’d get on her tiptoes to reach the upper cupboards.

the thing is, you can’t seem to stop.

you can’t stop watching her, you can’t stop thinking about her, you can’t stop your hand from slipping into your panties when you’re by yourself.

you couldn’t even stop yourself from taking the pillow nancy had left on the couch once. she must’ve forgotten it there after napping in the living room and you found it when cleaning the dorm. looking back at it now, you have no idea what possessed you to do it but you grabbed the silky pillow case and took it to your own room. nancy never asked for it back, never even noticed it was missing.

you let your gaze wander over all the notes on your desk one last time, sighing in defeat. studying like this is pointless, you decide, as you shake your head and get up, already peeling off the top you’re wearing and unbuttoning your pants. you drop them on the hardwood floor before laying yourself down onto your soothingly cold duvet.

you don’t bother to lock the door to your room: nancy said she would be out until later tonight and, given the fact that she’s always on time, you believe her.

your lashes flutter shut when you trace your fingertips over your skin: over the swell of your breasts, down your ribs and to the side of your hipbone.

you wonder if nancy touches herself like this. if she takes her time with it, teases herself through her clothes and lets her hands wander. or if, perhaps, she’s too impatient. maybe she gets straight to the point, you think, sucks her fingers into her mouth to get them nice and wet before fucking them into herself.

with a slow exhale, you feel yourself relaxing already. your heavy-lidded eyes wander until they reach your closet. in there, in the lowest drawer, you keep a box where you hide a couple of toys. and, right by that box, is nancy’s pillow.

you know that you shouldn’t. you know it. but your body moves on its own, walking over and getting it out.

when you lower yourself on the pillow, you picture her. it’s easy like this, finding a position that creates the perfect friction between the fabric and your center. you moan her name, quietly at first, but louder when you start grinding against the pillow.

-

when nancy enters the apartment, she’s quiet. it’s not that late yet, but she knows you’ve been studying for the upcoming exams and it wouldn’t surprise her if you’re exhausted from all the relentless, hard work.

she slips inside quietly and makes sure to shut the door behind her without causing any loud noises.

when she’s about to untie her shoes after putting aside her keys, she hears it for the first time. it’s just a little noise, somewhat of a gasp that echoes down the hall. yet nancy freezes. the sound obviously came from your room.

she stops in her tracks and turns her head towards your door. nancy quietly kicks off her shoes, unsure of whether or not she had just imagined it.

she has not.

another breathy moan comes from your room, one that’s unmistakably her name.

nancy inhales sharply, eyes wide open at the realization. she’s home earlier than expected, so you must’ve thought you would have the dorm to yourself for the night. she knows this is wrong. she should make a noise, clear her throat or drop the keys to make her presence known.

nancy wants to, she really does, but she can’t turn away.

instead, when she picks up another gasp of “oh my god, nancy” she moves towards your room.

hearing your pretty moans like this is something nancy had always wanted. she hadn’t expected the feeling to be mutual though, nor had she expected to hear you like this.

the idea of what you’re currently doing sends a jolt of arousal to her center as she approaches your room. the door isn’t fully closed, nancy notices, leaving a small gap that lets her see a glimpse of what’s happening inside…

-

you’re moving on the pillow frantically, your clit dragging over the silk deliciously.

you picture your roommate, beneath you, nails digging into your waist as you ride her face. you picture her tongue instead of the pillow, her mouth slurping up the slick of your arousal. her eyes, a deep shade of blue as they watch you moving on top of her.

you’re wet, you’re so wet, your underwear pushed to the side so you’re dripping all over the pretty pillow, grinding and gasping for air as you grip the pillow case tightly.

“oh, yes” you exhale slowly, whispering nancy’s name like a prayer. you can feel your orgasm building in your core already, the pillow soaked with your wetness. you roll your hips against it, chasing the heavenly feeling of your release.

“y/n…?”

your eyes immediately snap open. the reality of the situation only sinks in through the hazy fog of pleasure when you see nancy in your doorway. immediately, regardless of how weak your limbs feel, you scramble away from the pillow and try to cover as much of your body as possible.

“fuck” you pant, flinching away from her. “fuck- i- i’m so sorry nance! i- i can explain!”

you can’t explain, you know that. there’s no way to ‘explain’ why you were humping her pillow like that mere seconds ago. why you were moaning her name. you know, right then and there, that you’ve ruined everything.

“y/n” nancy repeats, her eyes wide. strangely enough, she doesn’t seem mad. not at all. there seems to be something in her voice though, a low, husky tone you’ve never heard before “holy shit”

it takes a moment for you to understand but that is definitely arousal in her voice. nancy is biting her lower lip, her eyes darker than usual as her gaze wanders over the scene in front of her.

“i can explain” you croak again, weaker.

“don’t” nancy hushes you, walking further into the room. “look you can tell me if i got it wrong, alright?”

you nod, hands slowly sliding down your body, exposing your breasts to her. heat rushes through you when her eyes dart down to stare at them.

“were you-“ nancy mumbles, crawling towards you on the bed. “moaning my name, y/n?”

“i-“ you turn your gaze away. immediately, nancy reaches for your chin and makes you look up at her.

“it’s okay” she whispers, her thumb dragging down your lower lip absentmindedly. “is that my pillow baby?”

you shiver. why isn’t she disgusted with you? why isn’t she mad that you were fucking humping her pillow like that?

“mhm”

“you wanted me that bad?” nancy husks, her breath hot on your face. “that you just had to hump one of my pillows instead of just asking me to help you out?”

“you would’ve-?” you croak.

“help a pretty girl like you out?” nancy finishes for you. “mhm, yeah. i mean- fuck- have you seen yourself?”

her fingers trace your face gently as she speaks. her lips parted and pink. you’re not even sure who leans in first. all you know is that you’re kissing her, suddenly. her mouth is soft against yours, but demanding and hungry. you keep up, kiss her back like you had always imagined.

“you’re a sight for sore eyes baby. you didn’t have to rub that poor pussy of yours raw against my pillow you could’ve just-“ her free hand drops between your legs and her eyes widen when she feels your arousal, the sensation morphing her voice into a high pitched gasp “asked”

you grab her wrists, without really intending to, you just need her to stay right there. her palm is pressing against your clit just right and you’re so, so close already. your hips jump forward on their own accord, desperately rubbing against her hand. later, you’ll feel embarrassed for how greedy you are, but right now, you really cannot help yourself.

“oh baby” nancy whispers, her hand still in place. she even pushes it upwards the slightest bit, pressing it against your clit while her fingers sink between your folds. “you want it so bad don’t you?”

you’re too far gone to feel embarrassed for the whine you let out. all you can do is nod your head, over and over again.

“shhh” nancy coos, adjusting herself so she’s kneeling in front of you, hand still sitting firmly between your thighs. “you want my fingers baby?”

any other time, you would’ve verbalized all those fantasies you’ve been having. you would’ve asked her to ride her face, or for her to get out one of those toys you keep hidden in the drawer. you picture nancy with one of the dildos strapped to her body, her voice telling you to get on all fours for her. maybe you would’ve begged for her mouth or for her to bend you over your desk and eat you out like that. but for now, with your abdomen still coiling from the ruined orgasm, you know her hands will have to do.

“yeah” you nod, both eyes closed. “yeah please i need it”

“i know” she coos, her voice sending another wave of arousal through you. “i know, i’ve got you”

another thing you learn about nancy wheeler is that her fingers are fucking heavenly. she runs them through your folds, gathers your arousal on her index- and middle finger, and brings it up to your clit. nancy had always been quick to learn the way you like things: she picked up your favorite snacks and dinner within the first couple of weeks, learned how you fold your laundry and sorted your shampoo and body wash in the shower. now, she’s showing off that observation skill once more.

she finds your clit, draws circles around it with a finger and adjusts the pressure and pace until you’re falling forward against her body, panting heavily.

“oh yeah?” nancy says, pleased with herself. “yeah? right there baby?”

you know it won’t take long for you to cum like this, not when you’ve been painfully close the moment she first walked in on you and certainly not when nancy is stroking your clit the way she currently is.

“do you like penetration?” she asks, her voice soft and genuine.

you nod at her weakly, one hand grabbing her by the shoulder to keep her close, bracing yourself for the sensation of her stretching you open.

you moan when she pushes them into you, two at once after making sure you’re wet enough to take it (which you definitely are).

she pumps them into you a couple of times, quickly figuring out a rhythm that works for you and causes her thumb to brush against your clit with each thrust.

the only thing you can offer her is an encouraging nod and the quiet “ah ah ah” sounds that she draws from your lips.

“come on y/n” she pants, pressing her thumb against your clit. “i wanna see you cum. can you do that for me?”

the whine you give her in response briefly resembles a noise of approval but it’s enough for nancy. she picks up the pace of her fingers, her face a reflection of your own: eyebrows drawn together and mouth agape in pleasure.

“that’s it” she praises when she feels your velvet walls flutter around her fingers. “that’s it baby, give it to me, come on”

that, and a couple of rolls of your own hips to ride her fingers, is all it takes for you to stumble over the edge. the knot in your belly finally snaps and, for a moment, there’s only pleasure and the sound of nancy’s name. you hardly even realize it’s you who’s desperately moaning it out like that.

you stumble against her, her fingers still moving against that spot inside you as she wraps her free arm around you and holds you.

your body still trembles with the force of the orgasm when you register nancy’s soothing voice close to your ear.

“i got you, pretty girl” she says softly. “i’m right here baby, you did so good”

“n-nance-“ you finally manage, when the pleasure ebbs and reality comes crashing down on you. you fucked up. you fucked it all up and this is the end of shared dinners and movie nights and the friendship between the two of you and-

“i was wondering when you’d make a move” nancy’s voice snaps you back to reality. “i mean- i guess i wasn’t expecting…that”

“w-what?” you mumble, leaning back to catch her eyes.

“listen” she tells you gently. “i like you, y/n. and, judging by what just happened, i think you like me too? correct me if i’m wrong. but i think once you’re…calmer, i would really like to ask you out on a proper date? if that’s okay?”

your eyes are wide with surprise. this is not what you expected.

“i mean- i- yes!” you finally answer, after staring up at her for what must’ve been way too long.

nancy just chuckles, running her fingers through your hair soothingly.

“okay” she hums.

“okay” you tell her. “does that mean i get to kiss you?”

nancy smiles, happily leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.