#i am open to requests as long as it’s something i like/you think i would like <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for anon

Request: something with an orc and a female human? Something fantasy-based, maybe human owns a tavern? I'd be fine with whatever you thought worked though!

A/N: Sorry this is kind of late, life is hectic. Enjoy!

Kissing an orc

Orc x fem!reader || accidental exhibitionism, oral sex, groping

You are kneading the bread for the next day when the knock on the door startles you. “Your favorite orc is hereeeee,” your annoying naga helper sing-songs to you. You shush them in your way to the door, signaling them to stop or you’ll kill them. They chuckle and disappear to the front, a broom already on their hands. Good, at least they would stop being a little shit while they do the tavern cleaning.

You open the door and have to swallow a gasp. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him, it always amazes you how fucking beautiful he is. All giant, towering over you, with his beautiful olive skin and big tusks framing his appetizing mouth. Good goddess you’d give all your gold to be able to kiss him at least once to know how that mouth would feel against yours.

“Hi- hi,” you stutter. You chastise yourself, trying to act composed, but suddenly your skin feels too hot and your breathing is pushing your boobs a bit too forward.

“What was all that about? Am I your favorite orc? Do you know more orcs?” He looks so confused and adorable you want to pinch his cheek, but also kiss him senseless.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

“Yes?” You aren’t sure if it’s a question or an affirmative.

You take a deep breath, thinking about all the possible possibilities of what you are about to do, but you are so fucking tired. You want to know, and if it goes wrong, you can always change hunters and find a new person or monster to bring you fresh meat for your tavern every day, right? Yeah. You can probably find somebody else, but you can’t wait more time to know how do his lips taste.

You stare into his beautiful dark eyes and answer truthfully: “Of course you are my favorite orc, I’ve been trying to ask you out for months.”

“What?” He looks so surprised you want to laugh, but the nervousness in your stomach prevents you to do anything. “But, but… I asked and you didn’t… you didn’t…” He takes a deep breath and starts again. “I asked you to meet me for breakfast and you said you had to work. I asked you if you wanted coffee and said you had to work.” As soon as he says that, you can remember a few other times he asked you for coffee or lunch or some snack and you always refused because you thought he did it just because he was nice, not because he was interested. Were you really that obvious?

You look at him, your face mirroring his surprise. “Oh.”

“You are just too cute for your own good, damn it.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you breathless. “We could have been doing this for a long time if you just said so,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again.

Kissing an orc is even better than you imagined. His tusks frame your mouth perfectly and his lips are way softer than expected. He is perfect and you can’t even comprehend what he’s doing when he crouches and grabs your ass, pulling you up and walking inside, the deer he caught today left there, forgotten.

He moves around the kitchen like he owns it, and before you know it your ass is over a table and he’s kissing your neck, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. His hands are everywhere, tracing the edge of your corset, caressing your back and groping your ass over the skirt of your dress. His hands fit under the skirt and he goes up and up until his hand is over your center and you are panting, his mouth hot against your pulse point as he touches your vulnerable place.

He caresses your legs over your underpants and asks: “Can I?” His lips move against your neck when he talks and you have to suppress a tremor.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, already pulling the skirt of your dress up to your waist as he pulls down your underpants, kissing your leg along the way.

“Have somebody ever…?” He doesn’t have to say it, you know what he means. You aren’t a blushing virgin, but you never had enough trust in anyone to let them… kiss you there.

“I never… Nobody ever… Not there,” you try to explain.

He gets it instantly, kissing your mouth until your brain is far away from your worries and his dexterous fingers find your pearl, flickering it and making you bite down on his lip. He groans and you giggle against his lips, he kneels on the floor in front of you and goes for it.

You moan very loudly as inexplicably pleasure breaks through your body, making you throw your head back and arch your back in an arch that leaves your boobs about to spill over your corset. You are sure it looks sinful from his position, but when you open your eyes the only thing you see is his face still buried between your legs, your thighs pressing against the sides of his head so strongly you are worried you are going to hurt him, but his pleased sounds are good enough to make you groan again.

You cover your mouth to avoid screaming his name as his tongue does wonders around your lucky pearl, his tusks framing your pussy in a way that leaves you breathless and ready for more at the same time. It’s wonderful and marvelous and all the adjectives you can’t even comprehend as he sucks and licks your hot center, dragging all kinds of sounds out of you.

You’ve never felt that kind of pleasure, and as it starts to peak, you don’t know what to do with all of it. You grab his hair and pull, making him grunt as his fingers dig into your hips where he’s holding you still. You are messing up his braid, but you can’t care about it as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. It’s the most intense experience of your life and when the pleasure hits its peak, you have to bite down on your hand to avoid the cry that was about to leave your mouth.

He licks you through it, until your legs are trembling around his head and your pussy is pulsating in time with your heartbeat. He doesn’t stop there, he keeps milking all the pleasure out of you with such frantic need that you can’t do anything but match it. When your second orgasm hits you, the first one was still there, joining in the middle in the biggest wave of pleasure you’ve ever felt.

He kisses your pussy and your highs, not trying to make you untie your legs from around his head. His tender caresses are a contrast with the frantic devouring he just did, but it’s the best kind of contrast. You are still breathing hard and he’s still on the floor in front of you licking you clean when the door to the tavern opens with a screech.

“Dude! That’s where I make the bread!” The annoying naga screams as he opens the door just in time to see him kissing your pussy one last time.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bodyguard (NSFW)

"Honey, honey, I could be your bodyguard."

Synopsis: You and Joe elope after being engaged for only 24 hours. The goal was to tell everyone when the two of you were ready, but it doesn't exactly work out the way that the two of you intended.

Pairing: Fiancé!Joe Burrow x Fiancée!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do Not Engage If UNDERAGE

Your head was laying on Joe's chest as his arms were wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep after the two of you had gotten back home from dinner where Joe had proposed to you in front of your closest family and friends.

He had been planning this for a while and wanted to keep it simple, just how he knew that you would like it. You weren't one for dealing with the spotlight and didn't like a lot of attention on you, the same way he was.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly unlocked it with his passcode that happened to be your birthday and saw that the time was around two in the morning. Putting his phone back down, he saw you pop one eye open to look at him and he quickly leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Being a creep now are we?” He asked you as you laughed at him and sat up letting the comforter and sheet fall away from your naked body due to the activities that took place before you had drifted off.

“What? I can't look at my handsome fiancé whom I love so much?” You asked as you pinched his cheek.

“Of course you can and I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” Joe responded while playing with the engagement ring that he had slid on your finger just hours before.

It took him almost an entire six months to get the design of the ring up to his standards and made sure that it was a design that you would approve of too. It was funny when he thought about it because in order to get your opinion, he would show you different designs and ask what you thought. However, you really truly didn't think anything of it because Ja'Marr had also been planning to propose to his long time girlfriend and you assumed it was Joe asking you for him.

You looked at him as he did it and knew for a fact that the wheels in his head were turning.

“Joey, what's the matter?”

Once he heard your voice, he looked up at you and continued to play with your ring before he answered you.

“Would it be crazy for me to say that I want us to be married already?”

“No, not at all. I can't wait for the day that my last name changes officially. We have to start planning. Big wedding or small wedding?”

“What if you didn't have to wait? What if we made it a reality and you became my wife in the next twenty four hours?”

Straddling him, your eyes suddenly went wide as your arms wrapped his neck and stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

“Um, Joey….”

“We can hop on a plane in the next few hours and make it happen. Make it a little getaway that leads into our honeymoon.”

“So, you want to elope?” You asked again, making sure you were hearing him right.

“For my short answer, yes. I don't want to wait any longer. I've been holding onto your ring for a while and it literally took me six months to design it because I know how picky your ass is.”

“Our parents are going to be mad as hell about that. And you love me all the same, including my pickiness.”

You could just hear your parents now throwing a fit about you and Joe not saying anything to them.

And your siblings

And your friends

But deep down when you thought about it, why should you even care? You were getting married to the person in front of you and as far as you were concerned, his opinion was the only one that mattered.

“And? They'll get over it and we can always do something here once we get back. I want you all to myself and one way or another, I always get what I want. And I do love your pickiness even if it gets on my nerves sometimes.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

“And we don't have to tell anyone either until we want to.” He added before kissing you again.

“But what about Destinee? She was going to be my maid of honor.”

Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

“Especially not her! Baby, I am in no way, shape, or form telling you what to do but I literally HATE her and she's not a good friend to you.”

“Joey! Hate is a strong word!”

“I know and I'll repeat myself. I HATE her. Since we're talking about her, you know she tried to come onto me tonight? AFTER I PROPOSED with her witnessing the entire thing! Only reason why I invited her is because you like her. Because left up to me, her ass can choke. Your parents don't like her either!”

You crossed your arms and looked at him dumbfounded.

“She wouldn't do that, babe.”

“Oh, but she did. Ja'Marr wasn't paying her any attention but I don't know why she got the bright ass idea of coming over to talk to me. Why does your best friend think she can pull a move on me with her funky ass breath? Besides I am CLEARLY spoken for.”

“JOSEPH!”

“I had to interrupt her to give her a piece of gum because her breath was hot enough to burn off my eyebrows. I'm surprised I still have any to be honest.”

Failing miserably, a laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head at him.

“I'll ask her about it and you probably interpreted that wrong.”

“Make sure you have a piece of gum on standby, can't have my future wife dying and leaving me. Cause of death, stinky breath by her so-called best friend. You probably won't even need for me to bury you because her breath by itself will probably cremate you.”

“I literally CANNOT with you.” You told him as you shook your head and began laughing all over again.

“Yes you can and you better get used to it since you said yes to marrying me. No take backs.”

“Wouldn't dare think of doing that in a million years. Now where are we going to do this? Vegas?” You asked but turned up your nose at the same time.

“No. Definitely not. That's where everyone goes. I want us to be different. We can always go somewhere that we can also have our honeymoon.”

“I like that idea. I want beaches and sand. Somewhere warm.”

“Hmm…. So I can fuck you on the beach? Good idea.” He whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss directly underneath it.

“Yes, but I was literally not even thinking that.”

“Shit, I was and I have no problem admitting it.” Joe told you as he shrugged.

“I noticed with your little nasty ass.” You teased and he sent a small smirk in your direction.

“You weren't complaining about it a few hours ago when you were riding my face.”

“I… touché and I got it! Barbados! That's where we can go.” You excitedly told him and it looked as if he was thinking it over, but quickly agreed with you.

“Okay, Barbados it is. I'll get everything together and you go to sleep.” Joe told you as he kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before placing one on your lips.

“But..”

“I got it handled, my future wife needs to go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we need to get ready to head to the airport.” Joe told you as you nodded and laid back down on his chest.

He quickly wrapped his arm around you before using his other hand on his phone to look for a hotel for the two of you to stay at while also planning to make a few calls to get the two of you on a private jet. He finally decided to rent a vacation house so the two of you would have more space.

He was more than halfway done when you did a sudden movement and his eyes immediately looked down at you to make sure that you were okay and you were once again looking at him.

“Baby girl, I thought I told you to go to sleep?”

“Yes, you did but for some reason I keep waking up.” You whined as you shifted to make yourself more comfortable.

“Hmm, you need me to help you out with that?” Joe asked as he set his phone down in order to give you his full attention.

Looking back up at him with a smirk, you quickly nodded knowing what his version of helping you meant.

“But you need to use your words to tell me exactly what you want.” He told you as he flipped the two of you over and you were now underneath him.

“But you already know what I want.” You breathed out as he began to nip at your neck and moved further down.

“Say it or I'm not going to do anything and make you get to sleep on your own. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What does my fiancée want me to do to her?”

“She wants you to put her to sleep.”

“By doing what?”

You didn't give him an answer before you felt him move down further and spread your legs apart while running his fingers across your folds, teasing you.

“By doing something like this? Or hold on, maybe you meant this?” He asked and you quickly felt his tongue make contact with your core as you let out a gasp.

“Yesss.”

“Hmm, yes what?” He asked you once more as you felt his tongue once more on you.

“My fiancé is teasing me and I don’t like that at all.”

“Then my fiancée needs to use her words and tell me what she wants.”

“I want your face between my thighs.”

“Good girl, now see, was that so hard for us to do?” Joe was trying to get an answer out of you as he made himself comfortable in between your thighs just like you asked him and began to play with your folds quickly slipping two fingers inside you making your breath hitch in your throat.

Joe didn't bother waiting for an answer and immediately began to pleasure you with his tongue paying special attention to your clit as he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Shiiiit, keep going.” Was all you could let out as the grip that Joe had on your legs became tighter making sure that there was no possible way for you to move away from him and at this rate, that was the last thing that you wanted.

One of your hands quickly found its way to Joe's hair as you were ultimately trying to pull him even closer even if by now it was damn near impossible.

You riding his face earlier wasn't nearly enough for you to be satisfied and the way your body was responding quickly let him know. As soon as the two of you had gotten into the car from leaving dinner earlier, you had been teasing each other during the entire ride home and barely made it inside before clothes were being ripped off from each others bodies.

Inserting a third finger, Joe began to suck on your clit harder making your upper body squirm because your lower body was being tightly held by him.

“Baby, oh fuck. I'm close, so so close.”

Hearing this, Joe decided to stop which quickly left you confused and he immediately heard your protest since you wasted no time in telling him.

“Joey, what the hell!? I said I was close, why did you stop!?”

“So I could do this.” He told you as he climbed back up your body to kiss you while also sliding into you at the same time with a gasp erupting from you.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck as he moved in and out of you at an even pace with him kissing you every few strokes.

Closing your eyes, the grip that you had around his neck quickly became tighter and you soon heard his voice.

“Keep your eyes on me and don’t make me ask again. You understand?”

Your eyes opened and listened to directions, but the head nod that you gave him in response was not sufficient enough. He immediately broke his embrace from you and you felt one of his hands wrap around your neck which instantly made you open your eyes and look at him as he lightly squeezed giving just the right amount of pressure.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you using your words when I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to do what you’re told and stop disobeying me. Because I will stop altogether and make you use your vibrator.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Go ahead and try me, baby. It’s your choice. Now your eyes better not leave mine. Matter of fact, get up here and ride me.”

Joe didn’t wait for an answer from you as he flipped the two of you back over and you were in the original position that you had been earlier in the night.

Putting his hands behind his head and staring up at you, he smirked.

“You don’t need my help since you like disobeying me, go ahead.” He answered your question already knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Nine times out of ten, Joe would have a tight hold on your hips and help guide you as you rode him, but you knew that you being rebellious against him made him decide to make you do it on your own.

“But babeeee.”

“Less talking, more riding.”

Placing one of your hands on the mattress beneath the both of you and lining him up with your entrance, you slowly eased your way down making a quiet moan escape from Joe’s mouth.

Once you found the perfect pace for the two of you, you could feel yourself growing tired and switched from your right hand being on the mattress to your left thinking that it would help.

Joe could tell that you were growing tired with how your movements were slowing down and took pity on you as you felt him grip both of your hips.

“You need some help, baby?”

Nodding your head, Joe motioned for you to lay down on top of him and as your head was resting on his shoulder, slow deep strokes were given from underneath you as you were moaning right next to his ear.

“That’s my good girl, you’re doing such a good job, baby.”

That familiar feeling that you knew all too well was building and knew sooner rather than later you would hit your peak. Joe obviously was close too, because his movements had now grown sloppy.

“Babe.” You softly breathed out and you could feel him nod his head as yours was still on his shoulder.

“I know, I know. You’re almost there aren’t you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me, baby? Cum all over daddy’s dick?”

No words left your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid leave your body and cover him underneath you and not even ten seconds later felt him release inside you.

You laid in the same position for a few minutes as Joe placed soft kisses up and down your neck and shoulder as you were trying to catch your breath.

Once you felt that you could move, you once again turned your head to peek one eye open at Joe and he smiled at you before leaning over to place several kisses on your lips.

“I know you want to lay on me and stay like this, but I need to change the sheets so we can finally go to sleep. Go ahead and take a shower while I do this and then I’ll come join you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise and then in a few hours we’ll wake up and get married in Barbados.”

The two of you had just touched down in Barbados an hour ago and you were currently exploring the beach house that Joe had rented for the both of you. Seeing as he told you not to worry about anything and that he had it handled, when you finished exploring you were simply going to decide on what you were going to wear since the goal was for the two of you to get married by the end of the day.

While in the master bedroom and looking out the window, you didn’t hear Joe come in the room and he was simply admiring you from the doorway before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it?”

“Yes, I absolutely love it. I asked for somewhere warm near beaches and my future husband definitely took that into consideration. This beach house is amazing.”

“Oh, so your picky self approves?” He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I approve.”

“Good, so start getting ready so we can leave and go get married.”

“I still have to figure out what I want to wear, none of the dresses that I have are really ‘get married in’ worthy.”

“Hmm, you could always go in nothing, I’m not opposed. That would be better for me actually.”

“JOSEPH!” You exclaimed as you turned around to look at him.

“Hey, I just gave you another option.” He replied as he held his hands up defensively.

“But, seriously, baby. I do not care what you wear and I know that you’re going to look beautiful regardless.”

“Aww, you love me don’t you?” You asked and Joe immediately nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you so much because if I didn’t, I would not let you put your cold ass feet on my back when we’re in bed because you’re cold and refuse to wear socks.”

“I cannot wear socks when I sleep! It’s weird!”

“What?! How is it weird?! So you’d rather turn me into a popsicle?”

“Yes, and I will not be discussing this topic further. Happy wife, happy life, Joseph Lee. I know you’ve heard that saying before so prepare yourself.”

After taking a shower and putting on your coconut scented lotion, you slipped into your soft pink sundress and began to play with your hair as you tried to figure out what you were going to do with it, style wise.

It was already in boho knotless braids and since it was obviously warm outside, you opted to put it into a high ponytail. Once it was up how you wanted, you applied light make-up and slipped in your big hoop earrings.

Sliding on your sandals, you heard Joe’s voice behind you after a whistle had escaped his lips.

“Look at how beautiful my fiancée is, just like I expected for her to be. I see you decided to not go along with my idea of what you should wear or not wear.”

“And get arrested for public nudity in a foreign country? I think not.”

“They have nude beaches, I looked into them.”

All you did was roll your eyes at him as you found your tennis bracelet that Joe had gifted you a year prior and attempted to put it on your wrist. Joe noticed that you were having some trouble and quickly put it on for you.

“Thank you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now let’s go and get married.”

Laughter could probably be heard at least three miles away as the two of you were enjoying each other's company while relaxing in the hot tub that was located on the side of the vacation house rental.

You tried to control it so wine wouldn't spill everywhere as you held the glass with your left hand that now had your full wedding set glistening as the sun had just fully set.

“Joey, cut it out! You are going to make me spill this!”

“Hmm, wouldn't be the first time tonight either.” He told you as he swiped it from you and drank it in one gulp as you looked at him in disbelief.

“BABY! You owe me another glass. Your drink is over there!” You whined as you playfully hit his chest.

“Do you want some?”

“No, I wanted mine!”

“I'll go and get it under one condition.”

“The only condition that is necessary is that you'll get it because I'm your wife.”

“Oh, so you're already taking advantage of your name now being Mrs. Burrow, huh?”

“Yes, so go get it for me.” You told him as you pointed to your wine glass that he was indeed still holding.

“And to think you said the bottle looked like it would be considered girly wine.”

“It's good! I wasn't expecting it to be that good. But I'll get you another glass on one condition that I have.”

“And what's that?”

Joe didn't respond, but instead leaned forward to kiss you.

“Okay, now I can go.”

He slid you to the side of him since you had been sitting on his lap to get your refill for you. Joe had made his way back into the house when your phone began ringing and you saw that it was your best friend Destinee and quickly answered.

“Destinee!” You exclaimed since you still couldn’t contain how excited you were.

“Hey, where are you?” She asked not bothering to return your enthusiasm.

“With Joe. Why do you ask?”

“Did you forget that we were supposed to go out today?” She asked and even though you couldn’t see her, you had a feeling that she had definitely rolled her eyes at your response.

“Shit. It completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well we can go out later. How long are you going to be with him?”

“Destinee, can you keep a secret? Like you cannot tell anyone what I'm about to tell you.” You whispered into the phone trying to make sure Joe couldn’t hear you.

“Of course I can. What is it? And why are you whispering?”

“I'm in Barbados.”

“Uh okay?”

“And we just got married.”

“YOU ELOPED!?” She exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Not so loud! But yes and you have to promise not to tell anyone. I figured that my best friend should at least be one of the people who know about it before anyone else. You’ve been there for the long run and have always supported me through everything.”

“Who else knows? You said, one of the people.”

“No one else does and we'll tell everyone once we're ready. But I hear Joe coming back, talk to you later and I'll send you pics.”

Quickly hanging up the phone, you set it to the side of you as Joe was all smiles as he emerged from the house and handed you another glass of wine.

“Your drink Mrs. Burrow.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Burrow.” You replied as you took a small sip and Joe was climbing back into the hot tub and once again slid you into his lap.

His arms completely engulfed you as you slightly turned to lay your head on his shoulder.

“I have a lot of things planned for us to do tomorrow, but the majority of those plans don't require clothes.”

“And why am I not surprised?” You laughed as you shook your head and took another sip.

“I have to take advantage of being able to spend time with you because you know how busy I'll get during the season.”

“It's your job and I will not be getting in the way of that. I've supported you this long and it's not going away any time soon. I'm here for the long haul obviously.” You told him as you gestured towards your ring.

“I just never want to get so focused on my career that I lose you in the process because when it is all said and done and I’m not playing anymore, I still want you to be at home waiting for me.”

“Babe, if I haven't left yet, what makes you think that I will? I know how important it is to you and you have always treated me like a priority ever since we got together. And I'll still be here when you retire from playing. You manage to have football and me as a priority and neither one is slacking, I promise.”

“And if you ever feel like I'm not doing that, you need to tell me. You are one of the most important people in my life and it's going to stay that way.”

“I promise that I will even though I know that I won’t have to.” You replied before a yawn quickly escaped your mouth.

“Someone tired over there?”

“A little, it’s been a long day after all. I barely got any sleep since SOMEONE was too busy keeping me awake.” You responded while giving Joe the evil eye.

“And as I recall, my now wife specifically asked me to put her to sleep so I don’t want to hear it. But come on, you can finish your wine after we get comfortable in bed.”

“And no funny business! I actually want to sleep.”

“I promise and besides, I want you to sleep too in order to be ready for me for tomorrow.” Joe told you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Hmm, you weren’t saying that when I was eating you out last night and you need to get over it, till death do us part remember?”

“Don’t push me, Joseph.” You scolded as you finally stood up to climb out of the hot tub with Joe right behind you.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

When you had finished showering and moisturizing your hair, Joe had briefly left the bedroom to do only God knows what so you took it as an opportunity to text Destinee one of the pictures that you had taken of the both of you earlier in the day. Once it was sent, you put your phone on do not disturb and plugged it in to charge on the nightstand as you slipped under the comforter.

Joe came back a few minutes later and crawled in bed beside you as you instantly moved to lay on him.

“I’m happy we did this.” He whispered as he held your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Me too.”

The next morning, the constant vibration of Joe’s phone instantly brought him out of his slumber and he sighed in annoyance. Glancing down and seeing that you were still sleeping with your braids failing out of your bonnet, Joe smiled to himself as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

He figured that he should answer his phone since it was probably important and was surprised to see a bombardment of texts and calls from different people as he did his best not to wake you up. Instantly confused, he opened the most recent notification and it was from his mom Robin with a photo attached.

Mom- Since when were you two going to tell us that you eloped?

“Shit.” Was all Joe could mutter to himself as his stomach dropped. He did his best to not make any sudden movements, but quickly failed and that instantly woke you up.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked Joe as you sat up and rested your back against the headboard and he quickly handed you his phone without saying a word.

Your eyes instantly went wide as you read the text over and over again and looked at the picture that Robin had sent.

“Shit. How did they find out?” You asked as you turned towards Joe who now had his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Hmm, I should be asking you that, Y/N. You took this picture and only had it on your phone, so why is it now all over social media?”

[badger-tales]

potion of persuasion// J.P x Reader

a/n: should i do a love potion series ???

request: Hellooo I'm usually too shy to request anything but after seeing your post and reading some of your fics I just thought; 'eeeeh why not' so here I am! (might be a lil' crackfic-y hope thats okay :3)

I'd like to request a james potter x reader fic where remus and sirius have gotten tired seeing the two awkwardly tip toe around each other so they planned to put a sort of love/confidence boost (?) potion into his drink so he'd finally be done with it! But uh oh, pads accidently bought one with really strong effects that have our prongsie standing up on tables in his socks and underwear as he professes his love to the reader. Chaos ensues basically..

hope this wasn't too long, also don't forget to take breaks and drink lots of water! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

word count: 5.2k

The Gryffindor Common Room was alive with its usual evening chatter, the glow from the fireplace casting a warm, golden light over the red-and-gold tapestries. The laughter of your friends filled the cozy space as you sat cross-legged on one of the worn-out couches, listening to Marlene's latest exaggerated tale about a Quidditch practice gone wrong. 

Across the room, James Potter sat hunched in a velvet armchair, his eyes darting from the book in his lap to you every few seconds. He had chosen a random Transfiguration text as a flimsy excuse to be near you, but it was clear he hadn’t read a single word. Every time your laughter rang out, he stiffened, pretending to adjust his glasses while sneaking another glance in your direction. 

You could feel his gaze like a warm breeze tickling the back of your neck. It sent a flutter through your stomach every time you dared to look back at him—only to find him hastily redirecting his eyes to his book, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. The air between you both was charged, electric with unsaid words and shy, stolen glances.

Meanwhile, at a table nearby, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were deep in conversation, but their attention kept drifting toward you and James. Sirius leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin playing on his lips, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his best friend struggle. 

Sirius tilted his head toward James, letting out a low, amused chuckle.  

"Prongs is never going to get his act together, is he?" he drawled, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table. 

Remus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His book lay open, but like James, he hadn't absorbed a single word.  

"Honestly, I've been watching this dance for weeks," Remus replied, voice low enough to avoid being overheard. "They’re driving me mad. He’s hopeless."

Sirius let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head in mock despair.  

"You’d think the great James Potter, star Seeker and Head Boy, would have the courage to ask her out by now," Sirius mused, eyes glinting with mischief. 

James chose that moment to sneak another glance at you, only to lock eyes with you unexpectedly. Your breath hitched, and you quickly turned back to your friends, pretending to listen to Dorcas Meadowes' story. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, and you prayed no one noticed the heat creeping up your neck.

Sirius barked out a laugh as he caught James turning back to his book, looking like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't.  

"Pathetic," Sirius muttered under his breath. He glanced at Remus, eyebrows raised. "We may need to intervene, Moony. At this rate, they'll be married with three kids before he works up the nerve to say a word."

Remus chuckled softly but nodded in agreement, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  

"As much as I’d enjoy watching him suffer," Remus said with a teasing grin, "this is getting painful. For all our sakes, we might have to give them a nudge."

Sirius's grin widened as an idea began to form. He leaned in closer, voice lowered conspiratorially.  

"Alright, Moony. But if we’re going to play matchmaker, we better do it in style."

The two of them exchanged a look that could only mean trouble—the kind of look that usually preceded a night of pranks and mayhem. Remus shook his head with a fond smile, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he was fully on board.

Unaware of the scheming happening just a few feet away, you peeked at James again, catching him glancing at you for what felt like the hundredth time. This time, he didn’t look away, his hazel eyes softening with something unspoken. The moment hung suspended in the air like a delicate charm—fragile, fleeting, and full of possibility.

But just as you opened your mouth to say something, Sirius’s voice rang out across the common room.  

"Oi, Prongs!" he called with a wicked grin. "You do realize books aren’t edible, right? You’ve been staring at that one like it’s a steak dinner."

James’s head snapped up, his face turning beet red. Your friends turned to look, giggling, and you hid your smile behind your hand, eyes twinkling with amusement. 

James shot Sirius a glare, but there was a hint of a grateful smile lurking at the corner of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the push he needed.

The Gryffindor Common Room gradually quieted down as the evening wore on, with students either heading to bed or settling into more relaxed conversations. The fire crackled gently, casting dancing shadows on the walls. James had finally managed to bury his nose back in his book, though his eyes kept flickering up to you every few moments. You had shifted to a quieter spot by the window, pretending to read a novel but stealing glances at James just as often.

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus had retreated to a secluded corner of the common room, where the firelight flickered just dimly enough to keep them hidden from prying eyes. Sirius was rummaging through his school bag, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he pulled out a small vial filled with shimmering, pinkish liquid.

"Padfoot, what’s that?" Remus asked, arching a suspicious eyebrow.

Sirius held the vial up triumphantly, the liquid inside catching the light and swirling like liquid starlight.  

"My dear Moony, this," he declared in a hushed tone, "is the solution to our lovesick friend’s dilemma."

Remus’s eyes narrowed.  

"Please tell me you haven’t gone and brewed some ridiculous potion."

Sirius shook his head, looking positively offended.  

"I didn't brew it—picked it up from Zonko’s," he corrected with a smug grin. "It’s called the ‘Love and Confidence Elixir.’ Just a tiny sip, and our dear Prongs will have all the courage he needs to finally confess his undying love."

Remus’s expression was skeptical, as always.  

"Love and confidence, you say?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Sirius, you can’t just spike James’s drink. What if it’s not as harmless as you think?"

But Sirius was undeterred, rolling his eyes dramatically.  

"Oh, come on, Moony. It’s just a bit of fun. The bloke’s been mooning over her for months, and all it’ll do is give him a little... push." He gave Remus a cheeky grin, wiggling his eyebrows. "No harm done. Besides, you saw him tonight—he’s hopeless."

Remus hesitated, glancing over at James, who was currently pretending to listen to something Peter was saying but was clearly distracted by the sight of you by the window. Remus sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.  

"Fine," he relented, albeit reluctantly. "But if this backfires, Padfoot, it’s on your head. And you’ll be the one explaining it to McGonagall."

Sirius beamed triumphantly, already pulling a flask of Butterbeer from his bag.  

"Relax, Moony. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a confidence boost, nothing more."

However, what Sirius didn’t realize—and Remus didn’t catch either—was that the vial he’d grabbed wasn’t a simple “Love and Confidence Elixir” but something far stronger. In his rush to purchase the potion, Sirius had accidentally picked up a mislabeled “Passion Potion”, notorious for making the drinker act on their deepest feelings with absolutely no inhibitions.

The common room was quieter now, most students having either gone to bed or become absorbed in their own conversations. It was the perfect opportunity. With a sly glance at Remus, Sirius uncorked the vial and quickly poured a generous splash into James’s Butterbeer, the pink potion swirling and dissolving seamlessly into the amber liquid.

"Keep watch, Moony," Sirius whispered. Remus, despite his reservations, did as instructed, glancing around to ensure no one was paying attention to them. 

Satisfied with his handiwork, Sirius slid the Butterbeer back into place just as James turned back to their table.  

"There you are, Prongs," Sirius said with a disarming smile. "You look parched, mate. Have a drink."

James, unaware of the potion-infused Butterbeer, shot Sirius a grateful smile before taking a long gulp.  

"Thanks, Padfoot," he mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, holding their breaths as they waited for the potion to take effect. At first, nothing seemed to happen. James continued chatting with Peter, appearing no different than before. Sirius was starting to wonder if the potion had even worked when, all of a sudden, James’s gaze snapped back to you across the room. 

The change was almost instantaneous—his hazel eyes darkened, his usual hesitant demeanor melting away, replaced with an intensity neither Remus nor Sirius had ever seen before.

"Uh oh," Remus muttered under his breath, his stomach twisting with unease as James got up from his seat, his book abandoned. Sirius, however, was too busy stifling a triumphant laugh to notice Remus’s worried expression.

"Looks like it’s working perfectly," Sirius whispered, elbowing Remus. But as James began making a beeline toward you, his confident strides more determined than usual, Remus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously off.

The Gryffindor Common Room continued to hum softly with conversations and the occasional crackle from the fireplace, but for Sirius and Remus, everything was suspended in a tense bubble as they watched James from their corner. 

Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms and frowning.  

"Honestly, Moony, I think we got swindled," he muttered under his breath. "Should’ve known Zonko’s was selling rubbish. I told you it was a waste of time."

Remus, however, wasn’t so sure. He was keeping a careful eye on James, who had just downed the last of his potion-laced Butterbeer. For a moment, James seemed completely normal—leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Peter said. But then, Remus noticed it: a sudden, almost imperceptible change. James’s eyes snapped up, locking onto you from across the room with an intensity that was almost unnerving.

"Uh, Padfoot..." Remus began, nudging Sirius and nodding toward their friend.

James’s usual shy, hesitant demeanor was gone in an instant. His hazel eyes widened, as if he’d just had the most brilliant revelation of his life. The corners of his lips twitched upward into a wild grin, and before anyone could make sense of it, he stood up abruptly, sending his chair clattering to the floor behind him.

Sirius’s eyes went wide with surprise.  

"Merlin’s beard, it’s working!" he whispered, half in awe, half in panic.

But this was no subtle boost of confidence. James was on a mission—one driven by the potion that now coursed through his veins, amplifying his emotions to the point of reckless abandon. He began making his way toward you with a determined stride, bumping into a few scattered chairs and narrowly avoiding colliding with a group of younger students playing Exploding Snap. 

Sirius and Remus exchanged a panicked look. This was definitely not the effect they were expecting.

"Prongs, wait—", Remus started to call out, but it was too late. James was already halfway across the room, moving with a speed that had you blinking in confusion.

You’d been absorbed in a conversation with Lily and Marlene, trying to distract yourself from the warmth that had spread through your cheeks after exchanging glances with James earlier. But the moment you heard the loud clatter, you looked up to see him striding straight toward you—eyes wide, grinning like a madman, and moving with a kind of confidence that was utterly foreign to the James Potter you knew.

"James?" you asked, your brow furrowing. Something about his expression seemed... off. You tried to read the intent behind his wild gaze, but before you could even register what was happening, he was standing directly in front of you, almost uncomfortably close.

The entire common room seemed to fall into a stunned silence, all eyes now glued to the two of you.

"There you are!" James practically shouted, his grin impossibly wide. His voice carried an uncharacteristic enthusiasm that had your friends exchanging confused looks behind you.  

"I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night!"

You blinked, caught completely off guard. This was not the shy, stammering James you were used to. Your heart pounded in your chest, partly from the sheer bewilderment of it all and partly from the intensity of his gaze.  

"Oh, uh, really?" you managed, your voice wavering. "What did you want to talk about?"

But instead of answering, James leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear.  

"I’ve been thinking..." he began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You’re absolutely brilliant, you know that? And I... well, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer."

The sudden proximity and the fervor in his words left you momentarily speechless. James Potter, the boy who usually turned red at the mere thought of a compliment, was now standing inches away, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

Behind him, Remus was frantically mouthing something to Sirius, who was trying (and failing) to suppress his laughter.  

"Okay, maybe I gave him a bit too much," Sirius muttered, though he couldn’t quite wipe the grin off his face. 

"Sirius, this isn’t funny," Remus hissed, watching as James practically vibrated with the need to say more. "We have to do something before he embarrasses himself... or worse."

But before they could intervene, James, still under the potion’s influence, reached out to gently cup your cheek, his eyes softening as they locked with yours.  

"I’ve liked you for ages," he confessed, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he couldn’t stop them even if he tried. "You’re brilliant, and beautiful, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why I haven’t told you sooner."

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Part of you wanted to laugh, thinking this had to be some elaborate prank. But the look in his eyes was so earnest, so raw, that it made your breath catch.

Suddenly, the room erupted in gasps and stifled giggles as Sirius and Remus finally sprang into action, darting forward to grab James by the shoulders and pull him back before he could blurt out anything else.

"Alright, Prongs, I think that’s enough honesty for one night," Sirius said, half-laughing as he tried to steer James away.

But James, still grinning like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup, waved them off with an exaggerated flourish.  

"No, no, I’m not done! I need to tell her—"

"Yes, you are," Remus insisted, giving Sirius a panicked look. "Come on, mate, let’s get you some fresh air."

As the two of them practically dragged a protesting James out of the common room, you were left standing there, cheeks flushed, heart racing, and mind whirling with what had just transpired. Around you, your friends erupted into laughter and teasing whispers, but all you could do was stare after James’s retreating form, wondering what on earth had just happened—and if, maybe, there was a hint of truth behind his unexpected confession.

The chaos that ensued after James’s sudden declaration hadn’t even begun to settle when he suddenly broke free from Sirius and Remus’s grasp, stumbling back toward the center of the Gryffindor Common Room. A wild grin still plastered on his face, he leapt onto one of the tables, nearly knocking over a stack of textbooks.

"Prongs, no—!" Sirius hissed, his voice urgent as he scrambled after him. But it was too late.

James threw his arms wide, eyes glinting with mischief, the potion clearly pushing him to act on every impulse without a shred of hesitation. He stood there like a performer taking center stage, chest heaving as if preparing for the grandest of confessions.

"Alright, fine, you lot want a show?!" he shouted to the room, which had now gone completely silent except for a few barely stifled giggles. His eyes found you once more, his gaze so intense it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

Remus, who had momentarily been caught in the whirlwind of it all, finally snapped into action.  

"Sirius, do something!" he urged, voice tight with panic as he flipped open the Potions textbook he’d snatched from the nearby table. His fingers flew over the pages, trying to find something—anything—that would reverse whatever chaos Sirius had unleashed.

But Sirius was having his own struggles.  

"Alright, Prongs, let’s just... quiet you down a bit, yeah?" he muttered to himself, wand already in hand. He aimed it at James, intent on casting a silencing spell. 

Unfortunately, the spell backfired spectacularly. Instead of quieting James, it seemed to amplify his voice, and before anyone could stop him, he launched into a passionate serenade:

"Oh, the way you smile, it lights up the night,  

Brighter than a thousand stars so bright—"

James’s voice echoed through the common room, shockingly clear and shockingly loud. He had one hand over his heart and the other dramatically extended toward you, as if you were the only one in the room. 

You couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and—admittedly—a bit of flattery. The whole room was roaring with laughter now, students doubled over, tears streaming down their faces. Even Lily Evans, who had been quietly reading by the fire, was shaking with laughter.

"Merlin’s beard, this is a disaster!" Remus muttered, frantically flipping through the Potions textbook. "Why did you have to give him the whole bloody vial, Sirius?"

"I didn’t know it would turn him into a bloody Shakespeare!" Sirius retorted, wincing as James hit an impressively high note. "This is Zonko’s fault, not mine!"

Meanwhile, James, entirely lost in the throes of the potion, began to loosen his tie with one hand while continuing his off-key serenade.  

"For you, my love, I’d dance through fire!  

Your beauty, your wit—I’ll never tire!"

"Oh no, no, no, no," Sirius groaned as James began unbuttoning his shirt. "Prongs, stop it! You’re going to scar these poor children for life!" He leapt forward, grabbing James by the waistband and trying to wrestle him back down to earth.

But James was surprisingly strong under the influence of the potion. He twisted out of Sirius’s grasp, managing to lose a couple more buttons in the process, revealing the faint outline of his Quidditch-toned abs. A few younger Gryffindors shrieked in shock, while others cheered him on, treating this like the best entertainment they’d had all term.

Remus’s frustration grew more palpable by the second as he scanned the Potions book, muttering curses under his breath. His eyes finally landed on a section that seemed promising.  

"Aha! The antidote—it’s a mix of powdered moonstone and syrup of hellebore," he said, turning to Sirius with a desperate look. "But we need to get him to calm down first, or it won’t work."

"Calm him down?!" Sirius shouted, dodging James’s flailing arm as he tried to pull the boy’s shirt back over his shoulders. "We can’t even get him off the bloody table!"

James, now with half his shirt hanging off one shoulder, raised his arms for a grand finale.  

"Oh, my darling, my heart is yours!  

Now and forever, through any wars!"

You were torn between wanting to laugh and wishing you could simply vanish into thin air. But despite the mortification of being the target of James’s wild serenade, a tiny, fluttering part of you couldn’t help but feel... touched? The way he was looking at you, even if it was because of a potion, held a sincerity that made your heart stutter.

"That’s it," Remus said through gritted teeth, closing the book with a snap. "We’re doing this the hard way." He pulled out his wand, ready to attempt a counter-spell to at least calm James down enough to administer the antidote.

But before Remus could cast anything, Sirius finally managed to grab James around the middle, yanking him off the table. The two of them crashed to the floor in a heap, tangled limbs and laughter echoing through the room. 

"Remus, now!" Sirius yelled, struggling to keep James pinned. "Before he breaks into an encore!"

Amidst the chaos, all you could do was watch, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite untangle. Part of you wanted to run over and help them—another part just wanted to keep watching James make a fool of himself, because somehow, in the midst of all this madness, he looked impossibly, endearingly charming.

The Gryffindor Common Room had turned into absolute pandemonium, with students shouting encouragements, laughing, and clapping along as James continued his wild serenade. Remus and Sirius were still struggling to contain him, and every failed attempt only seemed to fuel James’s increasingly unhinged performance.

But then, just when it seemed like there was no end in sight, Remus’s eyes lit up as he finally found the counter-spell.  

"This better work," he muttered under his breath, raising his wand with determination. He sent a quick incantation into the air, releasing a stream of calming blue sparks that cascaded like gentle raindrops over James.

The effect was almost instantaneous. James froze mid-verse, one arm still outstretched dramatically toward you, his voice dying in his throat as the potion’s influence melted away. For a heartbeat, the entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Then, clarity returned to James’s hazel eyes. He blinked several times, looking around the room as if waking from a dream, only to realize that he was standing on a table... wearing nothing but his underwear and an unbuttoned shirt. 

The color drained from his face as the full weight of what he’d just done hit him.  

"Bloody hell," he whispered, his voice cracking. He stumbled down from the table, desperately trying to pull his shirt closed, cheeks flaming so brightly they almost matched the Gryffindor colors.

"I—uh—", he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood awkwardly in front of you. The entire common room was still buzzing with laughter and whispers, but James only had eyes for you. "I... I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—"

Before he could finish his apology, you surprised everyone by bursting into laughter. You tried to cover your mouth with your hands, but the giggles kept spilling out, your eyes shining with genuine amusement. 

"Oh, James," you managed between laughs, "I think that was the most... creative confession I’ve ever seen."

James’s eyes widened in disbelief. He’d expected you to be furious, embarrassed, or even disgusted, but instead, you were laughing—really laughing. The tension that had wound tight in his chest began to loosen, and though his face was still beet red, he couldn’t help the small, relieved smile that tugged at his lips.

"Y-You’re not... angry?" he asked, still bewildered, glancing down at his disheveled state. 

You shook your head, stepping closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear, the laughter in your eyes softening into something warmer.  

"Honestly, I’ve never been serenaded before," you teased, "especially not by someone standing on a table in their underwear." You couldn’t resist adding with a playful grin, "I think I might even be flattered."

James let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders finally relaxing.  

"Well... that’s good," he said with a crooked smile, his confidence slowly creeping back now that he knew you weren’t mortified. "Because I think I just set a record for the world’s most embarrassing declaration of feelings."

You laughed again, your cheeks tinged pink as you replied,  

"Definitely unforgettable, Potter."

Behind you, Sirius and Remus exchanged relieved grins, both of them panting slightly from their efforts. Sirius punched Remus lightly on the shoulder.  

"See, Moony? Told you it would all work out," he said with a wink. 

Remus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.  

"Yes, but next time, maybe we use our words instead of potions?"

As the laughter in the common room slowly died down and students began to drift away, content with the evening’s unexpected entertainment, James took a tentative step closer to you.  

"I, uh... I meant what I said, you know," he murmured, his voice low and earnest now that the chaos had settled. "Even if it came out in the most ridiculous way possible."

You felt your heart flutter at the sincerity in his eyes. The bravado, the showmanship—all of that had faded, leaving just James standing there, looking at you with that earnest, slightly sheepish expression that had always made your heart skip a beat.

"I know," you said softly, smiling up at him. "And... for what it’s worth, I’m glad you finally told me."

James’s eyes lit up, a boyish grin spreading across his face.  

"Well, maybe next time, I’ll do it without the theatrics," he teased, scratching the back of his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking your head.  

"Oh, please, Potter. Like you could ever resist making a scene."

And with that, the tension between you two seemed to melt away entirely, replaced with a newfound ease. As the common room emptied out, Sirius threw an arm around James’s shoulders, winking at you.  

"Come on, Prongs. Let’s get you some proper clothes before you catch a cold."

As they walked away, James turned back to look at you one last time, his eyes filled with a soft, unspoken promise. And for the first time, you found yourself looking forward to what tomorrow might bring—now that the air was finally clear.

The common room had finally quieted down, the raucous laughter and excited whispers fading as students slowly trickled out, heading to their dormitories with wide grins and lingering glances back at James. The fire had burned lower, casting a warm, flickering glow that painted the room in soft, amber tones.

By now, most of the chaos had settled, but James Potter remained by the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames with a look that was uncharacteristically solemn. He was now fully dressed, though his shirt was still slightly askew, and his hair—if possible—looked even messier than usual. 

You approached quietly, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick rug underfoot. As you drew closer, you could see the slight furrow in his brow, the way he absently chewed on his lower lip, clearly lost in thought. The bravado and wild confidence that the potion had given him had evaporated, leaving him looking... vulnerable.

"Hey, Potter," you said softly, stopping just a few feet away.

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, turning to face you with wide eyes.  

"Oh, hey," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. "I... uh... didn’t think you’d want to talk to me after that whole... spectacle."

You couldn’t help but smile at how shy he suddenly seemed, so different from the overly confident boy who had just serenaded you in front of half of Gryffindor House. Taking a seat beside him on the couch, you nudged him playfully with your shoulder.

"You know," you began, your voice soft, "you didn’t need a potion to win me over."

James’s head snapped up, his eyes searching yours, hope flickering in them like the flames in the hearth.  

"Wait... what?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat under his intense gaze.  

"Yeah," you said with a small, shy smile. "I’ve... liked you for a while too. You’ve just never seemed to notice."

A mix of relief and disbelief washed over James’s face. He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair.  

"Merlin, I’ve been such an idiot, haven’t I?" he muttered. "All this time, I thought you were out of my league."

You laughed softly, shaking your head.  

"James, you didn’t need to drink some ridiculous potion to tell me how you felt," you said, your voice turning a bit gentler. "I would’ve said yes if you’d just asked me... without all the theatrics."

He let out a breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, and a genuine, heartfelt smile spread across his lips—a stark contrast to the wild, potion-induced grin from earlier.  

"In that case," he said, leaning in slightly, his voice low and sincere, "would you want to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? No potions, no serenades—just us?"

Your heart fluttered at the warmth in his eyes, and you nodded, returning his smile.  

"I’d love that, James," you said softly.

James’s smile grew even brighter, his hazel eyes shining with a happiness that was entirely unguarded. Without the potion, without the chaos, he was just James—sweet, earnest, and charmingly awkward. 

As the two of you shared a quiet, lingering moment, the sound of muffled laughter drifted over from the other side of the room. Turning your heads, you spotted Sirius and Remus lounging casually at a nearby table, watching the two of you with smug grins.

Sirius gave Remus an exaggerated clap on the back.  

"See, Moony? What did I tell you? Our plan worked perfectly!" he declared, his voice low enough not to disturb your conversation but loud enough for you both to hear.

Remus shook his head, though he was smiling.  

"You mean your accidental plan," he corrected, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the effect you were aiming for."

But Sirius just shrugged, flashing a triumphant grin.  

"Details, details. The point is, it worked," he insisted. "Now Prongs has a date, and we’ve provided the entertainment of the year. I’d call that a success."

James groaned but couldn’t quite hide his smile as he turned back to you.  

"I suppose I owe them a thank you," he said, his tone begrudging but playful. 

"Or a very, very stern lecture," you teased, giggling softly.

He laughed, his eyes twinkling as he reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring.  

"I think I’ll settle for just focusing on next weekend," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "No potions this time. Just you and me."

And as you sat there, the warmth of the fire enveloping you both, it felt like the start of something new—something that had been brewing for a long time, even if it had taken a wild potion-induced serenade to bring it to the surface.

In the background, Remus and Sirius watched with satisfied grins, Remus leaning back in his chair with a soft sigh.  

"Alright, Padfoot, you were right... this time," Remus admitted.

"Of course I was!" Sirius crowed, throwing an arm around Remus’s shoulders. "Now, what do you say we get some Butterbeer to celebrate my brilliance?"

As they made their way toward the portrait hole, the two of you shared a look, both shaking your heads fondly at your friends' antics. But as James’s hand tightened around yours, you realized you wouldn’t change a single thing about how this night had unfolded.

It had been chaotic, ridiculous, and more than a little embarrassing, but it had also brought you closer than you’d ever thought possible. And that, you decided, was entirely worth it.

[pomefioredove]

wait wait wait, your requests are open for noble bell for this weekend only? (if i got that right?!) sound perfect gimme 14 of em. anywhos if i did not getting the date wrong i have one! and if i i did please just let me shrivel up and die, thank you.

post college rollo and reader who live together as “roommates.” they’re 100% more than roommates and everyone can see it but them. rollo is probably some senator or something and insisted reader moves in with him cause he insists that since he’s making laws more just for magicless people there’s literally no where safer for them to be. just basically some domestic fluff with two people who act like they’re married and don’t even realize it. i personally think it would be way cuter to read from the perspective of a third party but if you’re willing to write this you can do it anyway anyhow and i’ll still be happy. thank you! <3

(if i got the weekend wrong i will absolutely die so please let me down gently, i am accoustic so i no no understand very basic things such as “this weekend” or “next saturday” if the day of the week is before a saturday)

oooh a bit of a future au... this is cute

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ and they were roommates

type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda written from a 3rd perspective

Rollo Flamme's favoritism had never been a secret.

He might have been quiet, reserved, repressed beyond all reason, but there were some things even he couldn't hide behind his star-spotted handkerchief.

The very moment you arrived at Noble Bell College, you were his.

Rollo Flamme beheld you with a sort of reverence that could be called sacrilegious. That is to say, one had never seen idolatry until one had seen the way he looked at you, the way he touched you as if you were made out of porcelain, as if he could break you with an unclean hand and a breath.

His coldness and cordiality towards the others never changed.

For all your kindness, your smiles, your gentle touches upon his cheek that he would never have let anyone else give, you could not change him. And you did not try.

It was a tragedy in two parts.

Not that it mattered, of course. Not to you.

As far as you were concerned, the world began and end with each other. In a room full of people, mages and scholars and royalty, Rollo Flamme would still only look at you.

Nothing was confirmed. Your affection for one another was kept to lingering touches and burning glances across the long, morose hallways of Noble Bell.

If anyone had asked, and they certainly did, Rollo's handkerchief would come to sit over his mouth and he would remind them that gossip is unbecoming.

And to be decent, thank you.

Yet the rumors could never be smothered, and they lingered after Rollo's first graduation, and another, and to his seat on the Fleur City Council.

You lived with him.

You lived with him, in his family home.

And he would continue to deny anything romantic, giving the same excuse that he had since Noble Bell, that you simply had no one else to look after you, and it was his duty as a civil servant to see to your care.

Which was utter bullshit.

But, perhaps, bullshit that you both believed.

Outside of the council, it was rare to see him alone. When he went out, he went out with you. When he attended public events, you walked by his side. When he worked at home, you sat in his study, by the fireplace, as if you had always belonged there. With him.

Rollo would excuse himself from small talk and after-hour business like so:

"It's been lovely talking to you, Senator, but I'll be late for dinner,"

"Please, come by my office first thing tomorrow morning. I'm expected at home,"

"I'll have to be going, now. I have an excursion on the town tonight. With whom? Well, whom else?"

It became widely accepted, amongst his colleagues and the public, that Rollo Flamme was married. One might not have guessed, of course, from his cold demeanor, but rumors of the magicless alumni from Noble Bell that he so adored smoldered.

Rollo did not concern himself with the whispers or the knowing looks his colleagues gave each other, until a warm day in late March where a well-meaning secretary from another branch asked if he had any children.

"Children?" he had scoffed. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

The poor secretary looked like he had seen a ghost. "Well... you're married, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not. What gave you such an idea?"

And he seemed reluctant to answer.

Rollo had gone home that night with much on his mind. When you asked him if anything had happened at the council, he said "Nothing eventful".

To Rollo, who had lived in Fleur City, lonely yet not alone, for so many years without a kindling of friendship and not a thought on romance, he had never once questioned your relationship. You were his companion. His first, and last. That's all that matters.

Isn't it?

He could ask for nothing more than you. Your voice, your smile, your hands and warmth mingling with his. He was happy with you. Your friendship is enough for him.

Isn't it?

Despite what he tells himself, that night, when you sit close to him in front of the fire, reading a book he recommended simply because he recommended it, Rollo finds himself looking at you twice as much as usual.

He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, and you stay there, as if you had always belonged there. With him.

[archiveikemen]

"Dark If" Story Event: Bitter END

Ellis Twilight

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

At Ellis’ prompting, I left the old castle and headed to the royal castle I was born and raised in.

I went straight to the back garden, to the briar I considered a friend.

Kate: Here it is… the briar.

The briar growing there looked the same as I remembered.

(I remember giving it a name and treating it like a friend…)

(... In the end, I never recalled what its name was.)

I felt a little frustrated that I couldn't remember, but I had more important matters at hand.

(If I burn this briar, I’ll be freed from this illness… there’s no time to waste.)

(... Once everything’s settled, I’ll tell Ellis how I feel about him.)

I didn't know what Ellis’ answer to that would be.

But I wanted to at least convey to him how happy our time together made me feel.

(The Sleeping Beauty won’t fall asleep, and the briar will be burnt. But…)

(... A happy ending awaits.) 

I lit a match and, without hesitation, brought the flame to the briar. 

The fire spread, a flaming red colour, reducing the briar to ashes. 

Every last root of the briar that grew in the back garden burned away. 

(Yeah… the briar that was once here is now gone, the back garden does feel somewhat more pleasant.)

After all, the briar was meant to be removed back when I was a child. 

Surely no one would have complaints about it being burned away.

(Alright… now I’ll head back to the old castle and have Jude check if my illness has disappeared.)

(After that, I’ll go meet with Ellis!) 

Feeling much brighter than ever before, I set off for the old castle where Jude and Ellis lived. 

…

Jude: Ellis, where’s the princess?

Ellis: Kate’s at the royal castle right now. She went to burn the briar.

Jude: Ha? Burn the briar…?

Ellis: Kate said she doesn’t want to die.

Ellis: If that’s her wish… then the only way to fulfil it is for me to disappear along with the illness.

Ellis: Ah… looks like it’s about time.

Just then, right before Jude’s eyes, Ellis’ body suddenly ignited out of nowhere.

Although there was no source of fire, Ellis’ body was immediately engulfed in flames.

Jude: …!

Jude tried every method he could possibly think of to put out the fire, but the flames couldn’t be extinguished.

Ellis: Hey, Jude. This isn’t a promise, but a request.

Ellis: Make Kate happy. 

— And so, the fairy was cursed and the briar burned to death. 

…

After returning to the old castle, I asked Jude to examine me.

Kate: So… how’s my illness?

Jude: It’s completely gone. You’re free now, you won’t die or fall into deep sleep.

Jude: But are ya sure you’re fine with what ya just did? Burning that…

Kate: ? Of course I am! My illness is fully cured now! 

Kate: That aside, where’s Ellis? I have something I want to tell him! 

Jude: Don’t tell me… ya went ahead and burnt that thing without tellin’ Ellis anythin’...?

Kate: … What do you mean?

I noticed Jude wore an unusually pained expression.

But it was fleeting, so I quickly turned my focus back to finding Ellis.

Kate: … Ah, don’t tell me you’re overworking Ellis again? 

Jude: …

Jude: Of course. I sent him off on a long errand. It’ll be a while before he gets back. 

Jude: Why don’t ya take a nap till then, princess? For ‘bout 100 years. 

Kate: Wha…

I felt a sharp pricking sensation in my fingertip— and my consciousness faded away. 

…

Kate: Nn… 

Ellis?: Ah… you’re awake. Wow, it’s been exactly 100 years.

Ellis?: Good morning, Kate. 

I opened my eyes to see Ellis leaning over, peering into my face.

Kate: Good morning, Ellis…!

Kate: You’re back from Jude’s errand! 

Kate: Now that I think of it, I feel like Jude made me fall asleep… 

Ellis?: 100 years have passed since then, Kate.

Kate: 100 YEARS!? But… the two of you don’t look any different.

Jude: For that 100 years, I used my magic to freeze our bodies in time.

Kate: I see… magic really is amazing.

Kate: Oh…! Since I’ve been sleeping for 100 years, can I borrow your bath…? 

I didn't want to look like a mess in front of Ellis.

Jude: Suit yerself. The bath’s still in the same place it was 100 years ago. 

Kate: Thank you so much!

(Is it just me, or does Jude seem kinder than usual? … Maybe he softened up in the past 100 years.)

Ellis?: I’ll be waiting for you, Kate.

Kate: Alright… oh, um… I dreamed of you a lot in that 100 years of being asleep.

Kate: But… now that I’m awake, I’m so happy to see the real you! 

After Kate left the room, the young man resembling Ellis titled his head, puzzled. 

Ellis?: … Did I do it right, master? 

Jude: Yeah… you were exactly like that guy. Keep it up.

Jude: But don't ya call me “master”. 

Jude: I may have made ya, but hearing it coming from that face of yers gives me the creeps. Just call me Jude.

Ellis?: Okay, got it.

The day the briar was burned, Ellis died by Kate’s own hand. 

Jude could imagine how heartbroken she would be if she ever found out… just the thought itself made him feel sick. 

Therefore, while Kate slept for 100 years…

Jude painstakingly gathered the ashes of the burnt briar and used his magic to create a human form for it.

He was able to recreate Ellis’ appearance entirely, but perhaps due to having been burnt away into nothingness, the new Ellis had no memories of the past.

[ Jude’s POV ]

(... In the first place, it's questionable if he’s even the same person as the old Ellis.) 

= Flashback Start =

Ellis: Make Kate happy.

= Flashback End =

Back then, the briar’s curse didn't disappear. Instead, it continued gnawing away at the fairy.

(... Damn you, Ellis.)

(She’ll never be happy with anyone but you.)

With the good 13th fairy, an imitation briar, and a princess blindly in love— 

The distorted fairytale world would continue, growing more twisted than ever before. 

However…

Ellis?: …

Jude: Ellis?

The reborn briar stood silently, staring at the door Kate had exited through.

Ellis?: Ah… sorry, Jude. 

Ellis?: I’ve been watching her the whole time while she slept, but… the princess is so lovely now that she’s awake. 

Ellis?: … And she feels somewhat familiar. 

His facial expression as he muttered those words bore an uncanny resemblance to the Ellis who burnt to his death 100 years ago. 

(... Maybe it’s still too early to give up hope.)

Picturing a day when the once-dead briar might fully come back to life, and the princess could finally reach a happy ending with her briar—

The fairy gave a faint smile that no one saw. 

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hiiii I hope requests are still open !! No worries if not ofc, but if they are; f!hero and m!villain with the villain flirting a ton until hero finally gives in and touches him like she's been wanting to all along 🫶 smth with an "it's your fault I'm in love with you, villain" vibe maybe

Your writing is absolutely incredible <33 have an awesome day!!

"You can be so creative," the villain murmured.

It wasn't necessarily the fact that the hero had handcuffed him to the bed which amused him. It was rather the horrible yearning she had sparked. Once again.

Amusing. Cruel in the bargain.

At this point he was aware of the type of fool he had become. Someone stubborn, someone who always fell for it. Someone who would burn himself a thousand times while reaching for her.

"Oh, thank you," she said. She was still sitting on his hips and levelled her weight. Clearly, someone this sadistic couldn't call themselves a hero. "I am impressed by myself, to be honest. This has got to be a new record. How long until you were in my bed? Thirty seconds?"

"Can you blame me? When you are promising all those sweet things to me?" He smirked, lowered his voice. "What was it again? You said you wanted to get down on your knees and put your tongue on my-"

The hero put her hand on his mouth immediately, but he still caught a glimpse of her ears turning red.

For the most part, she ignored his flirting, but for some reason, she had been more interested in him lately. She had returned the flirting and now, she was even touching him.

Which fried his brain to the fullest. He could barely concentrate when they were in a room together. It was ridiculous. He was losing his edge.

"You're truly stupid if you think I was going to go through with that." She leaned forward, her chest against his. "You know we do not always get what we want in this dog-eat-dog world."

He mumbled something under the hero’s hand and she pulled her arm away.

"If you truly mean that, then you should probably stop moving your hips like that…" He let his eyes drop to her waist and let them wander, only slightly distracted by how clearly visible her hip dips were today.

"I like challenging you," she said.

His hands would probably fit perfectly into those sweet indents.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

"Is that so?" he whispered, his eyes still occupied.

Would she like it? To be held like that? Would she guide his hands there? Would she ask him to touch her there?

He couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to feel her skin against his fingertips. His heartbeat increased heavily.

He squeezed his eyes shut and frowned.

At his very core, he was a slave to his own cravings. A true loser.

"You look very tortured right now." Her voice was still soft. Still sweet.

He opened his eyes again and stared at the hero's lips through half-lidded eyes.

"I..." He didn't quite know what to say. He knew he wasn't the brightest, but was that really all it took to defeat him? His pretty nemesis sitting on his hips?

"Take your time…" She smiled and he would have melted right then, right there. But slowly, he realised that he was in big trouble.

She had tied him to the bed.

She was distracting him.

She waited for reinforcement.

"Uh…uncuff me? Please?"

"No way." He had to concentrate. He had to focus. She sighed softly. "I'm way too easy on you. I blame those good looks of yours, my boss won't accept that, though."

Suddenly, she put her hand on his chest and let her fingertips crawl up to his neck where they dipped under the shirt. Running along his collarbone.

Good lord.

"This is your fault, all of this. You shouldn't say those things to me, you shouldn't look at me the way you do…" She dug her nails into his shoulder gently. Their eyes met.

He took in a sharp breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologise. Just try to be a good boy."

He nodded.

Both of them knew that wasn't happening for as long as him being the enemy meant they'd end up like this regularly.

[covenha]

Synopsis: perv!roommate!yeosang can't stop thinking ungodly things about his best friend. Pairings: Perv!bff!yeosang x fem reader Genre: smut, mdni Warnings: smut (duh), yeosang in grey sweatpants bc that should be a warning WC: 746 a/n: this is filth that has been backlogged into my brain the minute that yeosang posted *that* black and white photo on ig so you know what's up. this is purely fiction so the this does not portray his character irl in any way shape or form. this is my first time writing smut so if it's poorly written or sounds like it came from those weird alpha tiktok shorts i am so sorry. its yet another self-indulgent fic so lmk how it is. as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated and my inbox is open for any requests!

just imagine pervy bff!Yeosang, you guys have been roommates for a few months now as the both of you just started college together and thought that living in an apartment together was better than living in some dingy university dorm room with strangers. he thought the idea was fine then, but he didn’t realize just how hard it was living with someone he had a massive crush on. 

you guys have always been comfortable with each other. you guys wore your more… questionable loungewear around each other. but you not wearing bras around him was a new thing. when you asked if it was cool to not wear bras around the apartment since they were uncomfortable to wear all day, yeosang agreed immediately stating that he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your living space. but he couldn’t help but get turned on. 

the bustling city’s humid weather was a hellscape compared to the cooler temperatures you both were accustomed to back in your seaside town. this meant that when the sun was at its highest, the apartment you guys shared was like a microwave. and this also meant that you would wear lighter clothing. those thinner tank tops that showcased your chest so well, those crop tops that showed off your midriff, and those fucking pajama shorts that did nothing to cover your legs. sometimes he manages to get a glimpse of your cotton panties peeking through. All of these things adding up would damn near drive yeosang to insanity. 

the sight of you wearing clothes that left nearly nothing to the imagination sent blood rushing straight to his dick. he’s lost count of how many times he’s had to rub one out quickly in his room to the thought of you. it was starting to get out of hand if he was being honest, he might start shooting blanks and get an electrolyte imbalance.

and the dreams were the worst part. he really thought that phase was over. the awkward wet dreams he’d have at night with some unknown female living out his sexual fantasies. but he was wrong. and they’ve come back stronger and more vivid than ever. and what’s worse is, you are always the star of these dreams. 

on some nights he’d have you face down, ass up, your hands held behind your back as he fucked you to oblivion on your bed with your plushies facing the wall. on other nights you’re riding his dick whining about how deep he is inside you that you can feel him in your stomach. and other times he has you splayed on the kitchen counter as he eats you out for so long you start shaking violently and squirting on his pretty face. 

on this particular night he has you on his bed, your neck marred with red splotches of his love bites. you whine about it being too much, and i mean who could blame you? he had been going at it for 3 rounds already and he didn’t show any signs of stopping. with your thighs on his shoulders, he was practically folding you in half and the aches of his passionate love making were starting to seep into your poor body. but yeosang persisted, mumbling something about how he was almost there. and it truly felt like he was. 

your spongy spot had been abused beyond belief and your whines of his name were the only things coming out of your mouth at this point.

“Sangi….”

“Sangi….”

“Yeosang!” 

and he comes so hard in one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had in his life. 

“Dude, get up!” 

he’s groggy as he hears your voice. he’s laying on his front, face plopped down on his pillow. he groans as he wakes up from your shaking. 

“We’re gonna be late for the bus, Sang. You have like 20 minutes to get ready.” you shake him some more to snap him out of his sleepy state. 

he just hums in a sound of agreement before he breathes a sigh of relief as you walk out of his room and close the door. he can feel the spurts of come in his sweatpants sticking uncomfortably around his now soft dick. his grey sweatpants were stained a dark grey in the groin area. he came so much that he felt it dripping down his leg when he stood up. man, how was he supposed to survive 4 more years of this torture? 

[killherfreakout]

ok now that i have the time and motivation i wanna gif but WHAT is the question :/

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[aquaticmercy]

All These Things That I've Done

Summary : In which Bucky leaves behind a loving note every time he goes on a mission. But what happens when you stumble on a letter not meant to be found… yet?

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : cursing, mentions of death

Requested by : myself haha

Word count : 2.7k

Note : This is just angsty fluff with a happy ending, really. It was inspired by a song by the Killers of the same title. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

You woke up in the early hours of dawn, the sunlight filtering softly through the sheer curtains, blanketing warmth over the room. You rolled over, expecting to find Bucky beside you, but your hand touched only a tangle of sheets. 

Shit. What day was it? You glanced toward the calendar on the wall, and your stomach dropped. Of course. He was supposed to leave for some sort of extraction mission today.

You couldn’t deny the worry rising in your throat. You knew deep down, James Buchanan Barnes was one of the most skilled fighters on the planet. Sam always reminded you of that the last time you saw him, as if he knew how much you worried. He’d battled alien armies and come out with only a few scratches. A mission like this? It ought to be a piece of cake. You pushed anxiety back down your stomach.

The room was eerily quiet, almost haunting. You heard a soft thud from the hallway, followed by Bucky’s muttering to himself from the other side of the slightly open bedroom door. “Where did I leave my gloves?”

You smiled at his gruff frustration and shouted out just loud enough for him to hear, “Did you check the dryer?”

There was silence before you heard a cluster of steps, and then his voice echoed back through from the washing room, “Got it!”

His footsteps made their way back to you as Bucky appeared in the doorway, fully suited up in his gear. He was strapping the glove onto his human hand, his vibranium arm reflecting in the morning light. You couldn’t help but admire him, eyeing him from top to bottom, your breath hitching at how effortlessly handsome he looked in his tactical suit.

“Morning, doll,” he said with that half-smile that always made your heart flutter like a million little butterflies simultaneously beating their wings.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as he walked over. He reached the edge of the bed, sitting down next to you. He leaned down to brush a strand of hair away from your face and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, making your chest warm with joy. “I didn't mean to wake you up.” He apologised. 

“You didn’t,” you mumbled, still groggy from a dreamless sleep. With a tired smile, you asked, “Did you hide the note yet?”

It was a tradition the two of you had started long ago: before every mission, Bucky would leave you a little note, something for you to find while he was away. A scavenger hunt, if you will, to keep you occupied, to remind you he was always thinking of you. Sometimes the notes were practical—like ‘Don’t forget to drink water while I’m gone.’ Other times, they were a bit longer and heartfelt, and it made you feel closer to him even when he was far—even when you couldn’t feel the warmth of his touch and feel the joy in his kiss.

“Of course,” he replied, chuckling. “First thing I did this morning.”

You reached for his hand, your fingers tracing the edges of his gloved palm, craving the feeling of his bare skin. “Be careful out there, okay?”

He leaned down again, this time pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered a little longer than usual. “Always am,” he murmured, but you could hear the slight uncertainty in his voice, one that you noticed only because you knew him inside out. You could detect the slightest change of inflection, of intention, in his voice. He’d been like this for the last few missions, and you’d be lying if it hadn’t made you a bit more weary. A bit more on edge.

—

Later that evening, after a long day at work, you found the note.

You had been looking around your shared home, sighing at how empty it felt. How it didn’t feel like home without the love of your life echoing the walls with his laughter, filling the air with his scent. You had missed him so much already.

When you found the note, you had been checking for loose change in your jacket pockets. It was tucked neatly into one of them, and you couldn’t help but smile as you pulled it out, unfolding the familiar handwriting. You always wore this jacket in a specific weather—when the sun was shining and it was windy enough. When you were certain it would not rain. You smiled, knowing Bucky would have had to check the forecast to make sure he put it in the right jacket for you.

The stress of the day melted away in that moment, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through your chest. His notes always had a way of making everything better.

 This one was short but sweet:

‘Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be home before you know it.’

You smiled, your fingers brushing over the soft texture of paper. Lately, he had been cutting the edges to soften the paper after you told him you got paper cut from one of them.

How had you not noticed it in your pocket all day? Perhaps you had just been distracted. Still, the idea that his words had been with you the whole time made you feel like he’d been by your side, even though he was probably on a different continent by now. You took a deep breath, walking up to your bedroom. You folded it neatly before tucking the note into the small box on your nightstand—the box where you kept all of his letters. By now, there were dozens of small reminders of his love for you.

 You sat on the edge of the bed and opened the box, pulling out a few more letters. You took your time to read through them.

‘Don’t forget to take care of yourself. I know you get so wrapped up in work that you forget. I’ll bring you back something special.’

‘You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you for being patient with me.’

‘When I get back, can we try the new coffee shop down the street? Don’t go without me.’

You chuckled softly at one of the more recent ones. 

‘I may be a super soldier, but I still can’t fold a fitted sheet for shit. You’ll have to show me again when I get home.’

Oh, what a wonderful boyfriend you had.

 —

Two days later, the ache in your chest had only grown. You missed Bucky so dearly, and you were starting to struggle to keep yourself busy from the overwhelming emotions. 

But your worries weren’t yours alone. In the past few weeks, you have noticed subtle changes in Bucky. He was quieter than usual, his smiles a little less frequent. There were moments when he seemed far away, lost in thoughts he didn’t share. You’d catch him staring out the window or slipping away into the early morning hours, as if trying to outrun something you couldn’t see. You didn’t want to press him, not when it was clear he was trying to handle it on his own. But now, in the silence of the empty house, the signs of his unease gnawed at you. 

Cleaning the apartment helped, at least for a little while. But as you organised his things, you found another note. 

It was not hidden in the usual places, not anywhere you would even think to look, therefore not one he expected you to find. 

You wondered why the note was tucked deep into the back of one of his drawers, behind all his mission files that he’d stay up late to read up on. The edges were rounded, so you knew that this would have been somewhat recent.

There was something different about it. Folded smaller than usual, like it wasn’t meant to be found just yet. Or maybe ever.

 Your heart raced as you unfolded it, curiosity getting the best of you. It was a note, right? If it was meant for you, why did you feel so guilty opening it?

But nothing could have prepared you for the words written inside.

‘If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back.

I’m sorry. I tried to be careful. I always try to come home to you every time. But I knew there’d be a day when I wouldn’t make it. 

Maybe this is for the best. You deserve so much better than what I can give you. You deserve better than someone with blood on his hands. You deserve someone who isn’t always living with one foot in the grave.

Please don’t waste your time mourning me. Move on. Be happy. Go get yourself someone who can give you the life you deserve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.

I love you more than anything in the world.’

Your hands trembled as the letter fell from your fingers, tears already welling up in your eyes. 

The words on the note blurred as your tears fell. You tried to convince yourself that it was just Bucky’s fear talking, not a premonition. But a voice in the back of your mind whispered, What if he’s right? What if one day he doesn't come back?

What if he’s not coming back?

You’d always been confident about Bucky's ability to survive on his missions. Sure, you’d worry about the odd wound or if he’d get a scar that needed constant medical attention, but death was, more often than not, off the cards. Now that you knew he thought of it, that’s all you could think about. 

Bucky had always been so good at hiding this fear. You knew something was off, but you always thought that he was just a bit nervous, that’s all. 

But here, it was laid bare in his own handwriting. 

It broke your heart that he had already resigned himself to the idea that one day he wouldn’t come home. That his death was inevitable. And worse, that he believed it would be better off that way. 

—

The days dragged on painfully long after you found the note. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart raced uncontrollably. You were expecting news—good or bad—but it was always something else. Work. Or people checking up on you. 

So you used them as a distraction. You threw yourself to work, met with friends, and did anything to stop your worries, but nothing worked. 

Each night, the bed felt colder and lonelier, the house quieter than you would have preferred. Anxiety has already started eating you up and swallowing you whole.

To your relief, Bucky returned a few days later, safe but exhausted. You heard the door click open, and before he could say anything, you rushed to his side, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest, taking in his scent. As he shut the door and dropped his bag, your fingers fluttered on his back, making sure he was real. Then you sunk your palm into him as if he might slip away, as if his life depended on it.

He held you tight, rubbing slow circles on your back, his voice soft in your ear, taken aback by your reaction. You usually cracked a joke or two, or excitedly kissed him on his arrival. “Hey, I’m here. I’m okay.”

Your body was tense—almost skeletal—against his. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding, then quietly said, “I found it. The note.”

His face froze. He knew which one, but he had to ask. “Which one?”

“The one I shouldn’t be reading,” you paused hesitantly, “…yet.”

 Bucky’s expression fell into oblivion, looking pale and empty. He looked away. “I didn’t want you to find that,” he murmured.

Tears stung your eyes as you gripped his jacket tighter. “How long have you been carrying this stupid fucking idea that every mission is your last?”

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words to communicate how he felt. “A couple of months. It’s just how I think now,” he admitted, his voice heavy, raspy. “Every mission feels like it could be the one. And if it is... ” He trailed off, his emotions hanging in the air like a death sentence waiting to be dealt. “Maybe it’s better that way. You deserve someone who can give you a normal life.”

You reached for his hand, stifling quiet sobs, squeezing it tight. “How could you possibly say that? Do you have any idea what it feels like to know you’ve already accepted that you might not come back?”

“There've been a couple of close calls,” he admitted with a heavy heart, and this was the first time you’ve heard of this. You could tell he was just blurting out words, trying to string together an explanation as best he could. “What I’m saying is, If I were out of the picture, you wouldn’t have to worry about these things.”

You sighed, trying to steady your voice but not succeeding. “I don’t want that. I want you, James.” His first name sounded gentle in your tongue. It sounded like a longing, like a cry.

His gaze dropped to the floor, tears brimming in his eyes. “You deserve better.”

He whispered it again, your name escaping his lips like a prayer. Your heart ached. This man, who had fought battles no one could imagine, who had survived horrors and rebuilt himself piece by piece, still didn’t believe he was worth loving.

You took a steadying breath and shook your head, cupping his face gently. “You don’t get to decide what’s better,” you whispered firmly. “Do not tell me what I do or don’t deserve.”

His hands slipped from your waist, almost helpless. You were not letting him lock himself out again, not when you had the chance to pull him out for good.

“Look at me,” you said, a little sharper now, forcing him to meet your gaze, looking into his stormy eyes that once looked as blue as clear skies. “You’ve spent years carrying the weight of everything you’ve done. You’re not that man anymore, Bucky. Deep down, you must know that too.”

He shook his head, his voice hoarse. “I’m always going to be that man. I can’t just erase that.” 

“No,” you agreed, and your hand slipped down to rest against his chest, right over his heart. “But you’re also this man—the man who leaves me little notes before every mission. The man who gets frustrated when he can’t find his gloves. The man who cannot fold a fitted sheet to save his life.” You let a chuckle escape your tight chest, and it coaxed a little, hopeful smile from him, too.

“And I love all of you,” you continued. “The parts you think are broken—I love them all. So stop trying to push me away like you’re some kind of lost cause, because you’re not.”

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering there before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes again. “Talk to me. Let me help. You don’t have to carry this alone, Bucky. But this note—this can’t be the way I find out about these things.” 

His lips quivered, and you could feel the cracks in his fortress gate starting to open. 

His arms wrapped around you in a desperate embrace.

After what felt like silent eternity, Bucky finally spoke, his voice rough with traces of a fragile kind of hope. “I don’t know if I can believe it all right now. But,” he gulped down a sob, “I’ll try. For you.”

“No,” you insisted, an encouraging smile on your lips that made his heart stutter, “for yourself.”

He nodded weakly, and that was enough. 

For a moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside could be burning down, and you wouldn’t care as long as he was safe.

Eventually, Bucky loosened his grip just enough to look down at you, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek. “You sure you want to put up with all this?” He just had to ask. “No take-backs.”

You laughed softly—a cathartic release, the sound filling the quiet room. You nodded, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

For now, it didn’t matter that he didn’t truly think he was worthy of love yet.

For now, you could believe for the both of you.

And one day, maybe he’d believe it too.

-end

[jaylalolz]

hi! can i request more jealous/possessive nicholas? perhaps with some making up?🥹

ty!!!

❛ 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, Nicholas and his girlfriend get into a heated argument after he ignores her all night while out with friends, leading her to turn off her location and go out.

A/N, thanks for requesting!! hope u like it

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas knew he had messed up the second he walked through the door. His phone had been blowing up with unread messages, but he had ignored them—too caught up in the chaos of the night with his friends. She was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at him like she had been waiting for this confrontation all night.

“You couldn’t send one text?” she snapped as soon as he stepped inside, her voice sharp. “Not one?”

Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I told you I was going out with the guys. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you disappeared! You didn’t answer my calls, didn’t respond to any of my texts. Do you know how that looks? Like you couldn’t care less.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and Nicholas could feel his own frustration rising.

“I was just out having a good time. Why are you blowing this up into something bigger than it is?”

“Because you don’t get it!” She stood up, her voice getting louder. “You always do this. You vanish with your friends and act like I don’t exist for the whole night. It’s like I’m not even on your radar when you’re with them.”

Nicholas clenched his fists, feeling cornered. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… didn’t think it was that big of a deal to be off my phone for a few hours.”

“A few hours? Nicholas, it was the entire night! I was worried about you!”

She turned away, grabbing her bag and phone from the counter. Nicholas could see her fingers tapping at her screen, and his stomach twisted when he realized what she was doing.

“Seriously?” he asked, watching as she turned off her location. “You’re pulling this again?”

“If you can’t bother to text me back, then you don’t get to know where I am,” she said coolly, her eyes daring him to say something. Without another word, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving him standing there, frustrated and angry.

Hours passed, and Nicholas was left stewing, replaying the argument over and over. She had every right to be pissed, but the way she just shut him out like that, like he didn’t matter… it made his blood boil. He picked up his phone to check if she’d cooled off yet, but instead, he saw it—a new Instagram story.

She was at the club. Smiling. Laughing. And there, standing next to her, was some guy.

Nicholas’s heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew where she was. He wasn’t about to sit there while some random guy made her laugh like nothing had happened.

When he got to the club, it didn’t take long to spot her. She was leaning against the bar, talking to the same guy from her story. Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. She was doing this on purpose. She knew he’d see it, knew it would set him off.

Without a second thought, Nicholas pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on her. He reached her in a few quick strides, his hand gripping her arm, pulling her away from the guy before either of them knew what was happening.

“Nick, what the hell?” she protested, but he didn’t stop. He dragged her through the crowd, ignoring her complaints until they were outside in the humid night air. He didn’t let go until they reached his car, opening the passenger door with more force than necessary.

“Get in,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She hesitated, eyes flashing with defiance, but she got into the car, slamming the door behind her. Nicholas got in on the driver’s side, gripping the steering wheel to calm the storm inside him before turning to face her.

“You think that was funny?” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Turning off your location and posting that story, letting me see you with him?”

She glared at him, her arms crossed. “Maybe now you know how it feels when you disappear on me for a whole night.”

“That’s what this is about? Payback?” His voice rose, his anger spilling over. “I was out with my friends, but you—what? You run off to the club, posting stories, talking to random guys just to piss me off?”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, Nicholas,” she shot back, her voice sharp. “But maybe I wanted you to notice. Maybe I wanted you to feel what I felt when you ignored me all night.”

“Well, congratulations. You got my attention,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys.”

“Maybe if you actually paid attention to me, I wouldn’t have to find someone else to talk to.”

Nicholas’s temper flared, and without thinking, he reached out, pulling her closer, his grip firm but not rough. “You don’t need anyone else,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “I don’t want you talking to anyone but me.”

Her breath hitched, their faces inches apart now, the tension between them thick and charged. She tried to stay angry, but there was something about the way he was looking at her, the raw intensity in his eyes, that made her pulse quicken.

“You don’t get to ignore me and then act like you own me,” she said, her voice faltering slightly, though the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“I do own you,” Nicholas growled, his hand still gripping her waist. “You’re mine.”

For a moment, the air between them was heavy with everything they hadn’t said. The anger, the frustration, the possessiveness—it all tangled together in the space between their heated breaths.

She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Nicholas’s lips crashed against hers, silencing whatever protest was about to leave her mouth. She resisted for half a second, but then she gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same fire.

The kiss was rough, desperate, fueled by all the emotions they had been keeping bottled up. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, they were both breathing hard, the anger between them replaced by something rawer, something deeper.

“I hate it when you shut me out,” Nicholas murmured, his voice softer now, though still laced with possessiveness. “I hate it when you go to someone else.”

“I only do it because I’m scared you don’t care,” she whispered, her fingers brushing his jaw, softer than before.

“I care,” he said firmly. “More than you know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they held each other. Eventually, she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want anyone else but you,” she admitted softly.

Nicholas pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Good. Because you’re mine.”

They stayed like that for a while, their earlier argument forgotten, replaced by the certainty that, no matter how much they fought, they always found their way back to each other.

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

Hi can we please have fluff w Aventurine where reader and him reunite after 2. 1 and just fucking elope start a new life etc? Please I need it.

God yes. This is what we all need after 2.1. I'm aware he is in a coma-like state technically now but for the sake of fluff and this headcanon he is awake from that coma and is now reuniting with you. CW: Spoilers for 2.1 and Aventurines actual name, starts angsty but then turns fluffy, Gn reader, pre established relationship hurt/comfort

I am still accepting requests (especially for aven) btw so if you wanna see something send it in!

Back in your arms

You had lost track of how long it was since Aventurine left for his mission in Penacony. Has it been 2 months? No, probably more. It had been months since you last had been able to make contact with him. Your messages no longer went through, unable to be sent.

Looking at your textlog and scrolling up, you came across the last message he had sent you. It had come in while you were asleep, and it simply read “I love you”.

Waking up to that message would have been a sweet message for most people, but for you it had made you immensely worried.

 Aventurine was never someone who professed his love openly, so such messages were quite rare. Receiving such a message, especially unprompted, made you send him a barricade of texts, none of which went through and even now months later none were able to be sent.

If you were honest you were starting to lose hope of ever seeing him again, who knows what happened in Penacony after all? He could be…dead for all you knew, you had no way to verify whether that was true or not after all. 

You tried continuing your life on as you would normally, what else could you do? It was hard though, everyday you missed him more and more. Sometimes you imagined his face in a crowd somewhere but whenever you would take a closer look he would vanish.

Sighing you closed your phone and looked around your apartment, it felt so liveless ever since Aventurine was gone. Tears were falling down your eyes as you wondered how much longer you had to live with the uncertainty of where he was and if he was even alive.

Exhaustion was taking over as you began falling asleep. A common occurrence nowadays, since at night you were restless, unable to fall asleep as you worried. Just as you were beginning to fully doze off, you heard the door to your apartment open, immediately waking up.

No one but you and Aventurine had the key, and with him being absent panic coursed through you thinking someone was breaking and entering. You grabbed the nearest heavy thing to defend yourself with.

“For fucks sake…” You muttered as you made your way to where the noises were coming from. Cursing every entity out there for piling even more shit onto you as if your significant other being possibly dead wasn’t enough.

Readying your weapon (probably a heavy book) you stepped foot into the room where the noise was coming from ready to attack and hit the intruder. But once you saw who it was that was in your appartment, you dropped your makeshift weapon, a sob escaping your mouth.

Before you stood Aventurine, alive and breathing. You rubbed your eyes, making sure that this wasn’t your mind playing a cruel trick on you again. Aventurine watched you with a smirk on his, albeit very exhausted looking, face and his eyes held a new found softness you had never seen before.

You fell into his arms immediately, holding him tightly against your body, feeling his warmth. Desperately you grabbed at his clothes as you held on to him, scared this was all just a dream and you would wake up all alone once again. Tears were falling from your eyes, unable to hold them back, the relief washing over you making you let out all of your emotions.

“Wow you missed me that much?” He asked, in his usual teasing tone. Though there was something in his voice that usually wasn’t there. Desperation and a bit of fear. Was he afraid you wouldn’t have missed him? Or was there a deeper reason for it?

Moving away from the hug you grabbed his face in your hands, the tears still falling from your eyes as you took a good look at him. His face had fallen in, and he seemed exhausted. But there was also something in his eyes, his beautiful eyes you were so sure you would never see again, that you couldn’t recognize, having never seen it on him before.

Before you spoke your first words to him, you pulled his face closer and gently kissed him. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like you were floating in heaven. They may have been more chapped than usual, but fuck was it nice to feel him again.  Breaking the kiss you finally were able to muster up your first words to him.

“Fuck…I was so worried about you…I…When my messages stopped being able to sent I was…so sure you…Please…never worry me like that again Aventurine…”

You leaned your forehead against his, your words jumbled together from the adrenaline coursing through you.

He took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment before letting it out. A gesture you saw in many people before they needed to say something important and heavy, but one you never saw in your lover.

“...Kakavasha…” His voice seemed unsure and meek as he spoke. 

You, of course, had no idea what he was saying, so you looked into his eyes confused.

“Wha-”

“Kakavasha…it is…my given name. The one my mother gave me” He inhaled deeply before he continued.

“It is a long story but the short version is…I am no longer affiliated with the IPC, they probably think I died or something. So I no longer go by Aventurine, and…with how close we are and how much you mean to me. I felt like it was appropriate for you to know my true name...”

His eyes refused to look at you, flickering about unsurely as he spoke. Though he tried to sound confident, his voice wavered, scared that you would not accept him for who he truly was and reject his true self.

You looked at him gently and with all the love you had for him, gently pulling him close again and kissing his nose.

“Well then…It is nice to meet you Kakavasha…” You smiled brightly at him, showing him you accepted him as he was.

He felt relief course through his body and could not help himself but pull you into a passionate kiss. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive. As if he would die without you.

Breaking the kiss he whispered “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question but a request. One that you were too stunned to answer to, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I mean it. Let’s get married, run away from everything and start a new life just you and me.”

His eyes were pleading with you to agree. He knew that he wanted to start over, but he knew he needed you with him.

“...yes!!” You once again fell into his arms and kissed him. The two of you holding each other so closely it was as if you were one.

Kakavasha knew that he would need to tell you everything that happened in Penacony at one point, even the part where he tried to end his life. But he knew that if he explained everything to you, you would still stay by his side and be with him. 

You were his family after all.

[caotictimmy]

🍏- ANON? MAYBE??? it's so late for me but reading your nsfw on Daisuke...UAAAGHHH SAAGHHH 🗣️ he's such a vocal man and the whole morning sex thing where he can't get into you quick enough .helpop helppp meeeee helpppp

(maybe this is a request? Maybe I'm just yapping lowkey??? But if you want to write on this, by all means go for it LMAO)

Giggling over Swansea being mortified while walking in on reader x daisuke getting it on, I imagine they don't notice him and Daisuke is getting all needy trying to keep his pace 🤞 That boy has never felt the touch of person romantically so I could onllllyyyy assume that he'd been sensitive his first time. Or like. Every time with reader- especially if they're still on the ship. He's trying to not make too much noise as everyone is asleep ☹️ his whiney ass is NOT making it through that night. Bonus if reader is nonchalant about it the next day at lunch. They're talking with someone about their poor love lives (finding people to stay with how long their jobs shipments are)- reader dropping shit like 'aw man yeah. if only there was someone to really understand me, y'know?'. As if Daisuke wasn't memorizing their insides and how they physically react to him with his body just last night 😭

HELP 🍏 ANON THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I ALMOST FELL OFF MY BED. But this is Acually so smart. I always believe Daisuke gets lost in the sauce when you guys have sex. For the headcanon I was thinking they were known dating. But for this let’s pretend the crew doesn’t know Daisuke and reader are dating. The first kind middle part will be NSFW. But the rest should be NSFW. This will be done as a one shot. (I’ll also include your little bonus! Plus a little more:3)

What was that god damn noise..? Swansea thought. Irradiated as he heard a squeaking sound, an indescribable muffled sound coming along with it. For fucks sake he just wanted to get some rest! But those loud noises would not let the poor man drift to sleep. He was gonna put a stop to that noise. Once and for all.

Swansea swings his legs over the side of his bed, sitting up. Stretching his arms as he gets ready to investigate what the noise is, and where it’s coming from. He stands up, his back making a loud crack.( I love old man Swansea). He slips his slippers on. Grabbing and putting on his robe by the door. Slowly pushing the door open. Before silently shutting the door. The noise got louder. Even though the walls were paper thin. It still muffled some of the noise.

He tread carefully through the halls. Getting closer to the noise. Swansea could hear talking maybe? The squeaking of something getting louder the more he approaches. Wait. He’s getting closer to Daisuke’s room..? What the hell was that kid doing. He could hear a faint panting? He started walking a bit faster.

Daisuke’s door was cracked open. God was the kid hurt-. Oh… Oh dear god.. For the love of pony express why did he have to be the one to catch this scene. He could now clearly see what was happening now. God why him..? (Warning for what’s ahead will be NSFW)

“Nyyhhh… F-fuck you feel so good. G-god so good. Am I doing good? Mhm!.. a-am I doing good for you. Wanna make sure your feeling as ..ahh ~… as good as I am.” Daisuke whimpered out. His arms wrapped around your waist as he continues going his rough pace.

“Yes! O-oh fuck hah… doing so good for me!”, Your voice muffled as you were face first in your pillow. Daisuke’s body pressing against your back. Like he was trying to mold his body with you. A loud ‘plap’ sound being able to be heard.

Swansea felt his face contort in horror. He could feel his stomach twist in disgust. He definitely walked in on something he definitely shouldn’t have. So what did he do. He went back to his room. Staring at the ceiling with that petrified face still stuck on his face. To say he wasn’t able to sleep that night would be an understatement

-

“I feel like it’s impossible to date anyone with this crappy job.” Anya huffed in a frustrated tone. “I second to that.”, Curly sighed as he ate his crappy lunch.” Our shipments at a Minimum are 5 months! And it’s like we get a month or two back on earth, before they send us back to ship something!” Anya finished. The annoyed look on her face quite prominent.

“I get you Anya. I want to Acually spend time with someone and let them get to know me. But you can’t really do that on this floating rock.”, You said nonchalantly. You sure were letting Daisuke get to know you. All of you… Swansea thought. Trying not to gag at the imagie of what he witnessed last night.

You could feel Daisuke’s eyes turn to you. Lingering a bit longer than ‘just friends’. “Yeah man, it’s such a bummer!” Daisuke said. A light blush spread across his face as he said it. No one else except Swansea noticed.

“Say uh..” Anya started, looking up at you. “I saw you walking in here with a limp, you good?” She asked,her voice laced with concern. God why did you have to ask that Anya! Swansea cringed at her question. “Oh yea no I’m good! Just hit my leg on the wall while sleeping y’know.” You said. Hmh.. I’m sure you were doing some sort of sleeping. Swansea hurrying to finish his food. Quickly getting up to put his plate in the sink and immediately start work. He really just wants to take his mind off this..

-

“Swan-sea!” Daisuke said, dragging the two parts of Swansea’s name out. Swansea ignored Daisuke, continuing to work on the broken vent. “Dude did I do something wrong?” Swansea sighed. Since Daisuke wanted the truth he’ll get it.”For fucks sake Daisuke! Can you have them stop fucking like rabbits! I know you young people have your urges, but this has been going on for the past week. And it’s Saturday for crying out loud!” Swansea yelled.

“AND IF YOU FREAKS ARE GONNA KEEP GOING AT IT. AT LEAST KEEP THE DOOR SHUT AND BE QUIET. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.” Swansea finished, catching his breath. Daisuke just stood there stunned.

“You.. you heard us..?” Daisuke asked, his mouth agape and his eyes shot wide. “I didn’t just hear you guys. Saw it to! Close the damn door next time!” Swansea said irritated. Daisuke continued to stand there embarrassed. “Swansea uh.. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.” Daisuke stuttered out. Still shocked about the revelation.

“Yeah you better be fucking sorry” Swansea muttered. Turning around before pausing. Sighing a bit. “At lest your getting some action in this hell hole. Reminds me of me and my wife.” He said. Before holding his fist out. “I’m only gonna do this once Daisuke.” Swansea said. Daisuke happily returned the fist bump.

“Now get the hell out of my sight for the rest of the day!” Swansea yelled. “Alright swan-sea!” Daisuke said, doing the same long period name thing. Swansea let out an annoyed sigh. At least the kid was happy…

[pathologicalreid]

Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!

don't lose your head | S.R.

a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving word count: 3.71k a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!

you

You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.

After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.

They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.

From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.

The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.

Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.

You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.

There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.

Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.

“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.

Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.

Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.

“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.

Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.

“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.

From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.

Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.

“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”

Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”

Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.

“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.

In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”

Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”

Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”

An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.

Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”

“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”

Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.

Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.

A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”

That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.

Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.

You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.

Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”

You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”

“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.

After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”

Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.

him

Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.

The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.

Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”

As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.

The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.

Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.

It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.

Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”

Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.

“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.

Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”

JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”

“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.

Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”

Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”

“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.

Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”

Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”

Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.

“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”

Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”

“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.

Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”

Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”

“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”

There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”

Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”

There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”

Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”

“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.

He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.

Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.

“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.

There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.

Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.

“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.

All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.

“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”

Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.

“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”

Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”

As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.

Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.

Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.

“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.

You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.