#i hope this is what you were looking for anon!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wwooyology · 3 days ago

Text

Birthday Blues | S.JY

「pairing」 : bf!jake x fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.2k

「synopsis」 : your birthday was supposed to be a happy day. go have brunch with your friends before coming home and spending the rest of the evening with your loving boyfriend. however, the people you thought were your friends made you feel like complete and utter shit. upon your early arrival, jake knew something was wrong, and he was going to do his best to cheer you up and bring a smile back to your face.

「genre」 : smut, slight angst, fluff, comfort

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, unprotected sex, clit play, fingering, crying, petnames (pretty baby, baby, babygirl, sweetheart, my love...), teasing, soft dom!jake x sub!reader, jake is just a overall sweetheart, biting/marking, soft sex, pantie ripping, oral (f. receiving), creampie, slight breast play, tooth-rotting fluff at the end, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this is a request from this anon here, and I decided to just finish this fic and post it for everyone as my final farewell to the enhablr community (at least the writing part of it) after this I probably won't ever write another full fic for any of the members 😞 but even if this isn't the best I hope you all enjoy this full-length jake fic, especially you nonnie!! mwah 🫶

You had willed yourself to not cry, not wanting to waste any tears on people who didn't deserve them. Though you couldn't help the tightening feeling in your chest as you stepped closer and closer to your apartment door.

It was your birthday. You were supposed to be out celebrating with your friends. You even went as far as getting all dolled up, wearing the new sundress that Jake had bought for you. Just to be completely and utterly humiliated by the people who were supposed to be your friends.

Sniffling, you dug your keys out of your purse before unlocking the door. Pushing the door open, you were met with the soft sound of music playing in the kitchen, telling you that Jake was home. Sighing, you shut the door behind you and slip out of your shoes. You didn't have the energy to put on a fake face, not that it'll work with Jake anyway.

Hearing the door close, Jake stood straight, looking over his shoulder; you weren't supposed to be home for another hour or so. Dusting his hands off on his jeans, he turned and made his way towards the entrance hall, a silly smile playing on his lips. However, as soon as he caught sight of your distraught expression, his smile dropped.

“Baby, what's wrong?” His tone was dripping with concern as he made his way to you, taking your arm in his hand.

Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him, tears brimming on your waterline. “I don't wanna talk about it. I'm just gonna go change.” You spoke in a low tone, scared that you'd cry if you spoke any higher.

Jake, however, didn't let go, keeping you rooted in your spot.

“We don't have to talk about it, but don't change, you look beautiful.” He pouted, the sight making your heart squeeze, and he knew damn well that you'd give in to him.

You sigh, “Okay. What were you doing in the kitchen?”

A bright smile then spreads on the male's lips, and he grabs your hand, pulling you into the other room. As soon as you walked through the threshold, your eyes went wide.

The room smelled like vanilla, the lights were dim, and there was a small birthday cake at the center of the dining table.

Jake pulled you over to the table so you could see. Your heart flips in your chest as you look over the decorations.

“Jakey, baby, you didn't have to do all of this.” You go to turn and look at him, but he stops you when his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

He hums, planting soft kisses on your exposed neck, “You deserve it, baby, all of it.”

You sigh, head falling to the side to give him more access to your skin. His hands started to roam your body, his left coming up to cup your breast, squeezing softly.

“Jake.” You breathe out, your body starts to grow warm, and his kisses start turning into hot, open-mouthed kisses.

“Shh baby, let me take care of you. I'll make you feel better, I promise.” He whispered against your skin as his right hand moved down to the hem of your dress.

You completely melted in his hold, letting him do as he pleases, your hands gripping his shirt from behind you.

His plump lips glided over your skin, biting down every so often to hear the soft whines that would fall from your lips. His right hand slips under your dress, finding your clothes core.

“My pretty baby is having such a bad day.” His hand cups your heat, eliciting a breathy moan from your parted lips, “But it's okay, Jakey is gonna make her feel real good.”

He presses against your clit loving the way your body starts to tremble from such a small action. Pulling your panties to the side, he runs his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you had gotten from just a few kisses. As much as he wanted to tease you for it he went with his better judgment and kept his mouth shut.

“You're soaked, baby,” Jake's voice dropped an octave as he found your clit once more, pressing slow circles on the bundle.

“Jake.” You whine, clearly wanting him to go faster, but he doesn't. Instead, he pulls his hand away.

You opened your mouth to say something but were silenced when he turned your body around, grabbing the backs of your thighs and propping you up on the dining table.

A gasp fell from your lips but was quickly swallowed by Jake's. His hands tugged at your dress until it was a pool on the ground.

“God, you're so fucking beautiful.” He groans as he takes in the new skin shown to him, tracing every inch of your body as if he hasn't seen it countless times before.

Despite that fact, you still found yourself growing shy under his watchful gaze; heat crept up your neck before painting your cheeks a cherry red.

“Lay back for me, baby.” He pecked your lips once more, laying your body flat on the table.

“Jake.” You breathed out when his lips latched into your nipple and flicked the bud with his tongue while his free hand trailed down to your panties, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Your hips bucked into his palm as he pressed down on your clit once more, a sweet moan falling from your lips. Your fingers move from the nape of his neck to thread them through his deep brown stands, pulling softly.

“J-Jake.” You huffed out, eyes rolling slightly when he prodded at your entrance. “Jakey, please.” Tears started to well up in your eyes before falling.

Jake coos softly, peppering your face with kisses as he slips his fingers into your warm heat. Your eyes rolled back as his skillful fingers easily found your sweet stop, pressing right against it.

“There's no need to beg, baby, I'll give you what you want.” He mused, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs, and his fingers picked up their pace, stars dancing across your vision. All of the tension and sadness from earlier slowly dispelled with every stroke of his fingers.

Soft moans fell from your parted lips as he continued his leisurely pace, his mouth preoccupied with your chest. Deep red marks littered your skin as his lips trailed down the valley of your breast, down your navel, before finally coming face-to-face with your weeping cunt. Without so much as a second thought, he buried his face between your thighs, inhaling your scent as his nose bumped against your aching clit. A shocked gasp tore through your throat, your hand flying down to his head as he licked a stripe up your pussy, starting from where his fingers were still working into you before stopping to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

The softness of his movements was sending your mind reeling. He was always so eager to get you to cum. Even more so if it was on his tongue. However, seeing him now, all he cared about was your pleasure and helping you relax.

His eyes caught yours from your tense tummy, love, and adoration gleaming in his warm chocolate orbs. The love and tenderness that was seeping from him brought tears to your eyes. Noticing the glassy look in your eyes, he removed his mouth from your clit and crawled back over your body.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was soft as he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty. The feeling caused you to whine softly, but you swallowed it down as Jake leaned down. He captured your lips in a gentle kiss, relishing in your taste, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I need you, Jakey. So bad.” You murmured against his lips when he started to pull away, and Jake could feel his pants grow even tighter at the desperation in your tone. His fingers danced across your skin as he looked down at you, slotting his body fully against yours.

“Hmm, how do you need me babygirl?” His tone was nothing short of teasing as he continued to pepper kisses all over your face, down to your chest.

Your fingers curled into the material of his shirt, tugging roughly when he nipped at your collarbone. “I need you in me, Jake. To fuck me, please!” You cried out, the tears that had built up on your waterline finally spilling over.

“Such a dirty girl,” He cooed, lips detaching from your skin to take in your messy appearance, Mascara was already running under your eyes from all the crying you’d done, and your once glossed lips had the pink tint smeared all over your chin. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Jake had some on his chin as well. “But I did promise to take care of my needy baby.”

He wasted no time in discarding his clothes and quite literally tearing the thin fabric of your underwear away from your body. After there were no barriers left between the both of you, Jake moved forward, pressing your thighs further apart. Jake pulled small whimpers from your swollen lips as he teased your clit with his tip, relishing in the way that your body trembled in his hold.

“J-Jake.” You looked up at him with a pleading gaze, “You said I wouldn’t have to beg,” The pout that formed on your lips had his cock twitching in his hand, a small groan falling from his lips.

“I did, didn’t I?” He chuckled, trailing his tip down to your slit but not quite pushing in yet, “Okay, I’ll give my needy girl what she wants. All she needs is Jakey's cock to make her feel better, hmm?” Then, with a final hum, he pushed into your tight hole, and your back arched from the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck! Yes, just need Jakey’s cock!” You cried out in pure ecstasy as he slowly rutted his hips into yours, watching your body twitch with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Before too long, his slow pace grew steadily until he had your legs dangling over his shoulders as he bullied his thick cock into your twitching cunt. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and a mixture of your broken moans and Jake’s low whimpers as he neared his release.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close.” His voice was borderlining a whine, his fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, nails leaving crescent shapes behind. “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart, please.” The pleading tone in his voice had your pussy tightening around his length, the coil in your stomach tightening crazily.

“Jakey!” You cried as when the rough pad of his thumb met with your aching clit, rubbing tight circles over the small bundle of nerves. Tears blurred your vision when you finally felt that coil snap, your release gushing all over Jake’s length.

The intensity of your orgasm sends Jake over the edge, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as he damn near folds your body in half. He released hot spurts of his thick cum inside of your fluttering walls. His warm breath fanny the sweaty skin of your neck, making you shiver.

Neither of you said a word as you both came back down from your highs, bodies still entangled on the dining table. Jake was the first to speak, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he lowered your quivering legs so they could relax.

“How was that present? The best yet, if I do say so myself.” He gave you a lopsided smile as he pulled out of your spent cunt before helping you sit up. Heat flushed your face as you smacked his chest.

“You’re something else, Jake.” You shook your head, but a wide grin still spread across your lips, and Jake looked at you with an endearing gaze. His intense eyes caused you to suddenly feel shy, cheeks turning a rosy red, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you got home.” He mentioned that you felt a guilt start to settle in the pit of your stomach. However, Jake was quick to grab your attention once more, “Forget about them, my love; if they’re making you feel like shit, then they don’t deserve to be your friends.”

Tears involuntarily filled your eyes as you looked up at him. Your bottom lips quivered as you fought back the urge to cry once more. Jake hushed you as he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Your arms wrapped around his midsection as you soaked in his warmth, a few stray tears sliding down your cheeks. If there was one thing in the world that you were most grateful for, it would be your boyfriend. He always, always went above and beyond to make sure you were happy and cared for.

Smiling softly, you nuzzled into his chest. This was where you belonged because even if no one else would have your back, Jake would without fail. It was truly a blessing to have met him, and you’d be damned if you were ever going to let go.

He was home.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

399 notes · View notes

bettys-redwinesupernova · 3 days ago

Text

I GET YOU

rafe cameron x fem!reader

( moodboard does NOT depict readers appearance !! )

WARNINGS: none? i can’t really think of anything, just pure fluff! soft!rafe :’) maybe the slightest mention of worrying about what others think/fear of being judged? lmk if i missed anything !!

SUMMARY: rafe and weird!reader are one of the strangest couples in the obx. nobody has any clue how the cunning and cruel rafe cameron is dating the epitome of sunshine. but rafe just gets her, and she just gets him🫶

based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy 🍮🍒 anon, and i hope it was what you asked for, and i added in that the reader makes jewellery and collects sonny’s angels :) and sorry for the late post !! <3

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

THIRD PERSON +

The Outer Banks sun was blazing overhead as Y/N wandered down the streets of Kildare Island. The vibrant clinking of her many bracelets echoed softly in the quiet cul-de-sac as she adjusted her brightly colored tote bag over her shoulder. It was filled to the brim with craft supplies—beads of every color, rolls of thread, and the newest addition to her collection: two tiny Sonny’s Angels figurines she’d found at a small thrift shop on the mainland.

She was a walking burst of color. Her patchwork denim jeans were covered in hand-sewn floral patterns, her lime-green tank top layered over a long-sleeved baby tee, and her hair was adorned with barrette clips in the shape of stars and hearts. The contrast between her aesthetic and the neutral, coastal tones of the OBX locals was stark. She stuck out like a sore thumb—and she didn’t care.

And Rafe Cameron loved her for it.

From his perch on the porch steps of Tannyhill, Rafe’s blue eyes tracked her approach, his lips quirking into a soft, almost amused smile. He watched as she practically skipped up the gravel driveway, clutching her tote bag like it held treasure.

“Rafey!” she called out, her voice a melodic lilt that never failed to make his chest ache in the best way. “Guess what I found!”

He chuckled, standing up and brushing off his khaki shorts. “What, another one of those creepy little baby dolls?”

She gasped in mock outrage, clutching her heart. “They’re not creepy! They’re little angels, and they’re adorable. Look!” She yanked the two figurines from her bag and held them up like prized possessions. One was dressed as a strawberry, the other as a little chef.

Rafe leaned down, squinting at the tiny figures in her hands. “Yeah, adorable is one way to put it,” he teased, but his grin betrayed his words.

“Don’t be mean,” she said, poking his chest lightly. Her rings sparkled in the sunlight as she did so. “You just don’t understand their charm.”

“I don’t,” he admitted with a shrug, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “But I understand you, and that’s enough for me.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she buried her face in his chest. “You’re such a sap sometimes.”

“Only for you.”

The two of them stood like that for a moment, swaying slightly in the breeze. The Cameron estate was quiet; Ward and Rose were off on one of their trips, and Sarah was, well, doing whatever Sarah did these days. It left Rafe and Y/N in a little bubble of their own, untouched by the world’s judgments.

“You wanna help me make something?” Y/N asked, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“Make what?”

“A bracelet!” She stepped out of his arms, already rummaging through her bag. “I got these new beads, and I think they’d look great with your eyes.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You wanna make me a bracelet?”

“Why not?” she said, grinning. “It’s not like you’re gonna wear it in public or anything. Unless…” Her grin turned mischievous.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, though his tone was light.

She giggled, plopping down on the porch steps and spreading her supplies out like an artist preparing her canvas. Rafe followed, sitting beside her and watching as her nimble fingers worked to thread beads onto a piece of elastic.

“Why do you do this?” he asked after a while, his voice soft.

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured to her array of beads, figurines, and tiny tools. “All of it. The bright clothes, the crafts… you’re not exactly like anyone else around here.”

She paused, looking up at him with a small smile. “Because it makes me happy,” she said simply. “I like colours. I like making things. It’s who I am.”

Rafe nodded, taking her answer in stride. He’d always admired her confidence in being herself, even when people whispered about her behind her back or shot her strange looks in town. It was a level of self-assuredness he wasn’t sure he’d ever reach.

“You know,” she said after a moment, stringing a star-shaped bead onto the bracelet, “a lot of people think it’s weird that we’re together.”

“They’re idiots.”

She laughed, a light, airy sound that made his heart swell. “I know that. But still… you’re Rafe Cameron. People expect you to date, like, the cheerleader type. Not someone who spends their weekends thrifting for doll clothes.”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, his fingers brushing against the plastic barrette clipped in her hair. “Let them think what they want,” he said firmly. “You make me happy. That’s all that matters.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re too good to me, Rafe Cameron.”

“Damn right I am,” he said with a smirk, though the teasing edge in his voice was softened by the way he gazed at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

She finished the bracelet a few minutes later, tying it off and holding it up for inspection. It was a mix of blue and white beads, with a single star charm in the center. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he said, letting her slide it onto his wrist. The contrast between the delicate bracelet and his rugged, calloused hands was almost laughable, but he wore it with pride.

“You look so cute,” she cooed, taking his hand in hers to admire her handiwork.

“Don’t push it,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting to the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. “You know, I used to think no one would ever get me,” she admitted quietly. “Like, really get me.”

Rafe turned his head to look at her, his expression softening. “I get you,” he said simply.

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss him softly. “Yeah,” she whispered against his lips. “You do.”

The world around them seemed to fade away as they sat together on the porch steps, wrapped in their own little universe. It didn’t matter what the rest of the Outer Banks thought of them. They had each other, and that was more than enough.

For the first time in a long time, Rafe Cameron felt like he could be himself. And for Y/N, that was the greatest gift of all.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so so cute and so much fun to write !! i LOVE weird girl!reader soooo much and this was just the CUTEST🥹 i really hope this was what you wanted 🍮🍒 anon and i hope i got the aesthetics correct :) as always, please like and reblog as it means the WORLD to me <333

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks #bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#fluff #obx #rafe cameron x reader #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x weird!reader #juminocore #heisei retro

193 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 23 hours ago

Text

forest floor

(early) raider!Joel x f!reader - 1360 words

A/N: Can read alone, but in series context, this answers, when sweet pea escapes, what if Joel finds her before fedra does? The smut is greatly enhanced by this media. Ty anon. I also wanna shoutout those asks who wanted this before.

WARNINGS: 18+ angst, pursuit, inner conflict, manhandling, dubcon unsafe piv, hair pulling, spit, choking adjacent.

You can't take anything from Joel Miller. When he sees you're missing, his stomach drops. His face gets cold, all his muscles tense. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, then cracks his neck with a sharp tilt of his head. He can't believe you would do this. Someone must have taken you. He has half a mind to go into the house and do a head count, see who else is missing. But there's no time for that. Not a second to waste.

He scans the treeline. That's where someone would go if they were smart. That's where they'd take you if they didn't want the wrath of God, and worse - the wrath of Joel. With his rifle on his back, arms pumped up, he heads into the woods, stalking you like an animal - eyes wide open, cursing his impaired hearing. He'll find them. Them. You couldn't have run, that's not how things are. He takes care of you, protects you, and you know it's for your own good. He can tell by the way you tilt your hips for him, push back on him, and sigh. He can tell 'cause in your sleep, you feel safe in his arms. You'll even lay your little hand on his arm sometimes.

When Joel the hunter calls out, "Stop right there," you're not running as fast as you can. Not even close. "Don't wanna hurt ya," he booms. "But I will if I have to." You don't want to run, not really, not from Joel. It was a look from Jackson that put you over the edge. You'd already heard him talking about you with his buddy. And then, when Joel was occupied, he came over and stared you down, head to toe. Wet his lips and bit his teeth. "You aren't supposed to look at me," you reminded him. He snickered quietly, took a step back, looking at your body, then turned and left you alone.

You want to believe Joel can protect you. But the feeling that you *should* run still pulls at you. How could you willingly stay, surrounded by all these disgusting men who look at you like a piece of meat to carve up? You *have to* run, just this once. And if you aren't meant to escape, you'll get caught. And you'll be good for him. If he lets you, you realize and your mouth goes dry. Your stomach twists at the realization that if he can't have you, surely no one can. You stumble and trip on a fallen branch.

You start to get up, and hear a click that makes you sick. Hit with a tsunami of regret, you hang your head. Why'd you do this? The snap of twigs under his heavy boots looms closer. You collapse into the ground and he says, "Stay."

His faint shadow eclipses you, obscured mostly by the forest, but you can make out a tilt of his head before he drops to his knees, straddling you. His hand clamps around the back of your neck. “What the hell are ya doin’? Tryin’ to get bit or worse?”

I'm sorry,” you choke out into the leaves tickling your mouth.

“Don't you move an inch.” He grabs the back of your shirt as though it's the scruff of your neck, and when he's lifted your chest up, he wraps an arm around it. He gropes your breast, and desire swells in your loins. Maybe he'll just fuck you, if you're lucky.

He manhandles you, flipping you over into your back, then wraps his hand under your chin. Not a full-on choke, but a threat. His head hovers over yours with eyes like dark thunderheads. A breeze rustles the leaves and it feels like the wind of a storm.

“I'm sorry,” you repeat.

He studies your face and repeats, “you're sorry,” with a dismissive nod.

“God *damnit*, sweet pea.” The pet name gives you hope. He squeezes a little tighter. Even then, it doesn't feel like he wants to hurt you. You even wonder if he knows he's putting pressure in just the right place to feel a little good. But his eyes tell a different story - it's not about making you feel good. His voice becomes calm, but grave. "You ain't gonna try this again," he warns.

"I won't," you whisper. "I wasn't thinking straight." His nose twitches with a snarl as he searches your eyes. He punctuates the warning with a tighter squeeze, and you cough.

His hand leaves your neck and urgently undoes your pants. “How sorry are ya?” He asks darkly as he yanks them down.

“Real sorry,” you answer, “I dunno what I was thinking, I-”

“Lost your goddamn mind,” he answers as he pulls your pants off, and your panties along with them. He throws them aside with disgust that he even has to mess with them. He lets you keep the shoes, and it makes you wonder if he’s not going to let you put your pants back on. Is he going to take you back to the house like this? Your shirt will probably cover you, but...

"There's dangerous people out here," he says.

Joel pulls down his own jeans, freeing his fat cock, mostly erect. You bend your knees up and make room for him. By habit you expect to earn a good girl, but you don't deserve one, not right now.

He slams all the way into you with a grunt, propelling you back a couple of inches, leaves clinging to your hair as your head slides across them. You wince with the burn, but you're wetter than you think you should be, and it doesn't take long for your body to catch up, even though he allows you no time. He lets out an animalistic grunt with each thrust. His first few thrusts aren't fast but they're sharp and deep, so deep, like he's stabbing you with his cock. He pauses and dick throbs against your tight walls and further stiffens, grows, full mast.

Then he picks up the pace and doesn't let up on the power. As he fucks you, he gets even stiffer, louder, more animalistic. He pounds you hard and rough, balls slapping against you. He's feral and loud. He looks down at your body, not at your eyes. He slows down only to pull your shirt up over your tits and watches them bounce with each thrust. When he does look at your face, he scowls. He grabs a fist full of your hair, holding it tight in his fist with his forearm braced on the ground. He growls, "you're mine."

Then he bottoms out brutally and his other hand squeezes your jaw so your mouth opens. He spits, and you nearly choke on his spit. As you swallow, he says, "don't you ever forget it."

He growls and grunts and pounds you deep and sharp, unrelenting in pace and power. Your walls give a warning twitch, and you're torn between letting yourself cum or not - on one hand, maybe it'd calm him down. On the other hand, you're ashamed--too bad, turns out you can't help it. You hold your lips together as it begins then release them with a sigh as your climax continues.

He doesn't let up at first. But as you squeeze his cock, his breathing changes, and soon his grunts turn into moans as he erupts. Even his moans are animalistic, vibrating like the growl of a bear. His face is still mad, but begins to soften as he finishes, leaving your insides warmly coated with his seed.

He pulls out right away and quickly puts it back in his pants, before putting yours on, nothing gentle about it. He gets up and manhandles you to your feet, and with a firm hand around your arm, he marches you forward, back up the hill toward the house. His voice is dark - "We'll talk about this later."

You can feel it - there's something worse to come. You can't take anything from Joel. Can't ever take anything that's his. Especially not yourself.

-----

Thank you so much for reading! Your feedback means a lot to me if you're able 🙏🏼 your casual comment could help give me the energy and confidence to write my next fic. Love y'all. 🖤

#dark!joel miller #raider!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #cw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️

252 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 2 days ago

Note

🪶 anon here! Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Lighter, Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to being under a mistletoe with his gn crush please?

Oh my God Oh my God I'm so late.

Pretend it's Christmas! just pretend! shut up!!

ZZZ Boys react being under the mistletoe

You smiled and chatted with a little group of your friends, the managers at random play hosted a Christmas party in their parking lot and who are you to decline your best friends! With a few chairs and tables Christmas lights and even a giant projector playing classic Christmas movies it quickly became very lively Even some of the people running the shop next door brought homemade food and treats, and some alcohol. After a drink or two and introducing yourself to a few people, You somehow made your way under a familiar green plant with someone you knew.

Lighter Lorenz

He'll try to act like he wasn't the one who tried so hard to look so casual standing close enough between you and the mistletoe. He'd been trying to get you underneath all night, And now that you're right next to him he had to hold back how much he was smiling as all he did was look up.

"Well, would you look at that... I'm not too familiar with the rules, are you?" The big fat liar said, letting a little curve of a smile grace his freshly moisturized lips from the chapstick he had used earlier. He was already sneaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer to kiss him. You decided to not call him out for his blatant lie as he almost completely took the lead and kissed you.

Billy Kid

He generally thought mistletoe was a myth, a myth that someone like him would never be under a plant like that. He didn't even know that The plant actually was a real life plant until Nicole had to explain to him what he was underneath. And once everything hits him all at once.

Billy.exe stopped working

He doesn't care if he can't feel your soft lips, the fact that you kissed him counts. But damn it was one of those days where he really wish he could feel maybe he should get that skin sensation update. It's expensive but any price he would pay to feel your lips again.

Anton Ivanov

The most chill out of everyone. "Oh I'm just giving you a kiss? Sure!" As he goes in to kiss you. Using the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you has him fist bumping the air.

Anton is the kind of guy who makes his feelings for you known. He's also so blatant with his feelings that you think he's joking. If it was anywhere else on that mistletoe, he would have kissed them on the cheek or something, but no, for you. He makes sure to kiss you where it counts. He'll even ask "do you want more?"please say yes he would like that.

Ben Bigger

Poor bear he's practically shaking. Despite being twice your size He scared that he might hurt you or nip you on accident with his sharp teeth. "You don't have to if you don't want to... You can just kiss me right here." He says with a smile His claw pointing to his cheek. He could never accept a kiss from your lips. It's not the right time!

He'll make sure to bend to your height. His eyes closed, bracing for your soft lips. He could hear his heart pounding so loud that it drowned out everyone else. He hopes no one is looking. He might die from embarrassment or cardiac arrest, whichever one comes first.

You surprise him by touching his cute face and kissing his little nose. He hopes that you can't see his blushing face through his brown fur, but he's not helping to hide how he feels with his paws covering his face.

Wise

Damn it! He told his sister not to hang up that thing! And when trying to take it down you just so happen to bump into him. His eyes went wide as his heart jumped in his throat instantly forgetting what he was doing. His voice cracks as you point out the mistletoe that he's trying to reach for.

"Y-yeah That's there... Um... So listen you don't have to if you-" You were done hearing it as you kissed him on the lips. Thanking his self-restraint that day for swallowing his internal screaming. But he couldn't do much to hide the blush on his face as he smiled. "Forward aren't you... Save some for me." Four words that he will be regretting for the rest of his life.

Fine, the mistletoe can stay... For now, he'll have to thank his sister later.

Von Lycaon

To him a mistletoe is childish, Even as a younger pup He thought it was a little stupid. But with that bright smile on your face how could he refuse. Why spoil your fun? You look so happy to see him and you're cute face always makes his tail wag.

"where would you like my lips to lay?" He asks. When you appoint to your lips his eyebrows flick up for just a second before his smile widens. "Who am I to turn down such a request." He can't help but give you a little extra pressing his nose against your hand before moving to kiss your lips. Now he definitely understands the appeal of mistletoe.

Asaba Harumasa

He would probably take the mistletoe that is tied to the ceiling and bring it over to you. He taps your shoulder and jiggles it in his hand with a smug smile. He will regret this for the rest of his life, but who cares? He has a little alcohol in his system, and you're right there. His heart could burst when he felt your lips against his. He wanted more so badly. He tried to pull you in closer. His eyes were half-lit as if he were under a spell.

He had to stop himself from going in for another kiss. Your lips were so perfect. He wished he could do more than a quick peck, but with people watching, he couldn't just slip his tongue in your mouth.

242 notes · View notes

avonnimimi · 2 days ago

Note

Can you write a parallel story of making sevika jealous. How would she react? 😏

of course i can pretty girl😉

—————————————————————————

❀·°∗✧🌸✧∗°·❀

Hers

━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━

a/n: Here you go anon<3 I hope you enjoy, and i switched it up a little ;) I tried to make it extra special since you’re the first to send an ask ☺️ also i’m a firm believer that sevika has a daddy kink. MEN AND MINORS DNI

content: dom!sevika, mean!sevika, strap-on-sex (r!receiving), cunnilingus (r!receiving), face-sitting, overstimulation, semi-public sex, finger sucking, throat fucking, choking, two pussy slaps, degrading, name calling, daddy kink, bratty!reader, multiple + forced orgasms. lmk if i missed anything!

━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have dared to be so bold, but Sevika had been a really mean to you today. First, she told you no when you tried to get three large ice creams from the truck. Then, she shut you down when you wanted to buy those $300 heels you’d been obsessing over online. And last, like the cherry on top, she hit you with; “You can’t always get what you want.”

It burned. So, you decided to be petty.

Tonight was one of your once-a-month traditions: a night at the club with Sevika. She was already at the bar, ordering her usual drink. You didn’t even wait for her to turn around before heading to the dance floor, your mind made up.

You scanned the room, searching for your victim. It didn’t take long. Dark eyes met yours from across the crowd, already locked on you. He was watching you like he’d been waiting all night. You smirked, letting your hips sway as you walked toward him, the hem of your mini skirt riding higher with every step. When you reached him, you grabbed his hand, pulling him closer until your ass pressed firmly against his crotch. The music pulsed around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart pounding.

You started to move, grinding against him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your rhythm. You felt him harden against you, and for a second, nausea twisted in your stomach. But you swallowed it down. This wasn’t about him. This was about Sevika.

Your eyes flicked to the bar. There she was, sitting with her drink in hand, her gaze fixed on you. She didn’t look mad. She didn’t even look fazed. If anything, she looked…amused.

The heat of embarrassment flushed your cheeks. You were doing all this to get her attention, to rile her up, and she didn’t even care. You watched as she downed the rest of her drink, set the glass down, and stood. Your heart dropped. She wasn’t coming to you. She was walking toward the bathrooms.

The sting of rejection hit harder than you expected, twisting your chest tight. You pulled away from the guy without a word, ignoring his protests, and followed her. The anger bubbling inside you felt like it was about to spill over.

You pushed open the bathroom door, ready to confront her, but before you could even call her name, a strong hand yanked you inside, slamming you against the tiled wall, the door clicking shut behind you. The sound of the lock turning made your stomach flip.

It was Sevika. You didn’t need to see her face to know. Her scent, smoky and electric, was unmistakable. Her body pressed against yours, her hips flush with your ass. You gasped as you felt the hard bulge in her pants press against you. Your knees almost buckled.

“Tryna make me jealous, trouble?” she asked, her voice low and deadly, the amusement in it making your thighs clench.

You didn’t answer, biting your lip to keep the words at bay. That only made her laugh, a deep, throaty chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Cute,” she murmured, before her hands grabbed the hem of your mini skirt and yanked it down your thighs. The fabric pooled at your feet. Then, she spun you around, her hands firm on your shoulders as she pushed you down to your knees.

She unzipped her pants, and her strap sprung free, thick and heavy. Your mouth watered at the sight, but you didn’t move. You just looked up at her, wide-eyed and defiant.

“Open,” she growled, her voice sharp and commanding.

You shook your head, a small, “No,” slipping from your lips before you could stop yourself.

Wrong move. Sevika’s hand shot out, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks hard enough to make you cry out. Then, with no warning, she shoved her cock between your lips, pushing it deep into your throat.

You gagged, your hands flying to her hips in a weak attempt to push her back, but it only made her thrust deeper. Tears pricked your eyes as she fucked your throat, her pace merciless. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core as the wetness between your legs grew.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she groaned, her voice rough. Her boot shifted, the toe pressing against your clit through your soaked panties. The pressure made you moan around her cock, your hips instinctively grinding against her boot.

“You know what to do,” she taunted. And you did. You bucked your hips, grinding down harder, chasing the friction as you sucked and licked at her tip. You could feel her watching you, her dark eyes burning into you. “Look at you,” she sneered, her voice dripping with condescension. “Such a pretty little bitch in heat.”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not until she pulled back, her cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. You whined at the loss, your hips stuttering as you found an angle that dragged against your clit perfectly.

“Pathetic,” she muttered, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet. She dragged you to the sink, bending you over the counter. The mirror reflected your flushed face, your lips swollen, your eyes glassy. Sevika’s hand ran down your back before hooking into your thong and tearing it clean off.

She spread your legs wide, one hand gripping your hip while the other slapped your clit hard. You yelped, the sting sharp and sudden. But before you could recover, her cock was rubbing against your soaked slit, teasing you.

And then she shoved it in.all of it.

You screamed, your hands flying to the edges of the sink to hold yourself steady. She didn’t wait, didn’t give you time to adjust. Her hips slammed into yours over and over, her cock hitting so deep you thought you might break.

“Look at yourself,” she growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up so you were forced to meet your reflection. “You see what a nasty little fucktoy you are?”

Your lip trembled. You wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but all you could do was whimper as she fucked you harder, her hips snapping against yours with brutal precision.

“You think that little boy out there could fuck you like this?” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.

“N-no, daddy!” you cried, your thighs shaking, your body already teetering on the edge.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she spat, her pace quickening. “Now cum. Cum all over this dick, trouble.”

Her words sent you spiraling. Your body tensed, then shattered, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense you couldn’t even think. Your pussy clenched tight around her cock, your moans echoing in the small bathroom.

But she didn’t stop. Her thrusts stayed relentless, pulling you from one orgasm straight into the next. Tears streamed down your face, your body trembling from overstimulation.

“Aww, poor baby,” she cooed mockingly, her hand pressing against your stomach, right where her cock was buried deep inside you. “Too much? Or do you love it, slut?”

“Yes!” you sobbed, nodding frantically. “Love it, daddy! Fuck, I love it s’much…”

Your words only spurred her on. She slapped your ass hard, the sound echoing around you. “Good girl,” she growled. “Now cum again.”

And you did. Harder than before, your body writhing as you squirted all over her cock. You were a mess, completely undone, but Sevika wasn’t finished. She pulled out, spinning you around and sitting you on the counter, immediately dropping to her knees.

“Lemme taste,” she said, her voice rough with need.

Her tongue found your clit instantly, sucking and flicking it with no mercy. Your thighs twitched, your body jerking as you cried out, the pleasure almost too much. She didn’t stop, didn’t let up, her tongue dipping into your cunt before returning to your clit.

Your hips jerk up, desperate, fucking yourself against her tongue until she growls and forces your hips down, sucking your clit so hard you can’t stop the scream tearing out of your throat as you cum again. “F-fuck, daddy!” Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling, holding on for dear life as your body grinds into her face, completely out of control, lost in it.

Sevika doesn’t even give you time to recover. She’s up in an instant, her hand wrapping tight around your throat, pinning you to the mirror as two of her thick fingers slam into your dripping cunt. You gasp, legs spreading wider, chasing the stretch, the pressure. “You wanna cum again?” she growls, and all you can do is nod, your voice gone. You need it, fuck, you need her so bad it’s making you ache.

Her fingers curl, hitting that spot inside you like she’s mapped you out, like she owns you. You sob, your hands clutching at her wrist, thighs trembling as she works you open. “Please,” you whimper, sounding pathetic and raw, but you don’t care. She’s fucking you so deep, so good, you’d sell your soul just to keep her there forever.

“God, I love when you’re a brat,” Sevika groans, her voice low and wrecked, her thumb swiping over your clit just to watch you twitch. “Gives me an excuse to ruin this pussy, stuff it full, make it mine.” Her lips curl into a smirk, her eyes dark as she leans in closer. “Look at me.”

You try, you fucking try, but your eyes roll back as your orgasm claws its way up, your walls fluttering around her fingers. The pressure is unbearable, and your body’s trembling so hard you think you might shatter. “Fuck, Sevika—”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she hisses, watching your body give up to her. Her grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your head spin, and then she’s pulling you into a messy, brutal kiss, her tongue dominating yours, kissing all the air out of your lungs. You cum hard, your whole body locking up as you squirt all over her hand, soaking her wrist, the floor, everything.

She doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, until you’re gasping for breath. Pulling her fingers out, she doesn’t even hesitate before shoving them against your lips. “Open,” she demands, and you obey immediately, sucking them clean, tasting yourself on her skin. You’re still trying to catch your breath when her other hand comes down, slapping your oversensitive pussy, making you yelp.

“Good fucking girl,” Sevika mutters, her voice thick with pride as she leans down to kiss you again, stealing the last bit of air you have left.

—————————————————————————

this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

272 notes · View notes

awordsmith · 2 days ago

Text

omitted thoughts 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which the tension between you and Spencer at work is almost too much to bare; lingering eyes and longing needs that are ignorant to the people around you, but all too easily perceived by the other.

who? spencer x bau!reader when? s8 category: smut content warnings: (maeve plotline does not exist, emily is still with the bau) munch spencer, tension here–tension there–tension everywhere, thorough foreplay (as in practically the entire fic), sexual acts, not too explicit, no dom/sub really mentioned–though spencer is a little more confident, proofed! reid with pleasure... word count: 11.4k a/n: munch spencer as per requested by an anon!! this one has been in my filing cabinet for a while, so i'm glad i've finally gotten to write it out... also, new format–hey! okay i'll stop rambling... enjoy!!

There is a moment in every person’s life when they just know something sinister is about to unfold. That feeling found its way to you the exact moment the mixup with the rooms happened. It was bound to occur, it wasn’t like it was inevitable–you of all people were accustomed. Though, to be particularly truthful, it wasn’t the mixup that strangled your thoughts, no, it wasn’t as trivial as that.

What had your heart racing–your mind running–was that you were paired with Spencer. You should have said something. You were sure Emily would switch with you in a heartbeat–she and Spencer got along well enough, that it wouldn’t be a favor at all. However, even with this knowledge, you kept your mouth shut.

It was something in your gut, something in the darkest parts of your mind that swayed the moral, logical side.

It was late and the dimly lit hall only had so much life. You noted the old, peeling, pee-colored wallpaper; red flowers straying to and fro–if you tried hard enough, you could almost picture how it must have looked like in its prime.

Spencer made no effort to talk and for this you were grateful. You hadn’t had the chance to get too close to him in the few months you’ve been with the team. You were new, but not unaccustomed–you had been transferred almost six months ago with the help of thorough recommendations and pure skill–though you never pulled rank.

Hotch seemed a nice enough dad-boss, Rossi gave the impression of a comedic uncle most of the time, Morgan took his role as the older brother, Emily and JJ were great mentors and you were thrilled to be working alongside them, and you found Penelope to be a strong aunt-like figure. Spencer, though, you weren’t too sure where he fell in the categories you had enlisted just yet.

He was a great mystery, one you were keen to unravel little by little.

“Do you have a preferred side?” Spencer asked after completing a skim with his bedbug flashlight.

“No,” you glanced around the room, two queen beds sat adjacent to each other only separated by a mediocre bedside table. A home phone sat close to the bed nearest the door and a lamp sat closest to the bed nearest the AC and window. The old, red velvet curtains were pulled back in what you thought was meant to be a kind gesture. Nevertheless, for an unknown reason, it left a bad taste in your mouth. “But, I do think we should close those,” you sighed, setting your duffle bag in the only chair in the room.

Spencer set his things on the bed near the window. You began untying the curtain closest to the bathroom. A shiver crawled up your spine as the air around you grew dry, you were seriously hoping for hot water. You meant to throw Spencer a hopeful glance, praying he’d let you take a shower first–but your eyes caught his hands instead. He was working his sleeves back, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.

His sweater vest had been discarded and now lay in a bunched-up pile near his suitcase. You found yourself tracking his every move. He didn’t take notice of your stare until after he’d untied the curtain and met it with the one you had undid. You swiftly averted your eyes and swallowed, finding your throat had gone dry.

You cleared your throat and pushed your hair away, giving Spencer nothing but back, “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to shower first.”

Seconds ticked by and he said nothing, only when you heard a bed squeak did you turn back around. Spencer took up a space at the head of his bed, watching you with a look you were sure you’d never seen cross his face, it was almost smug, but not in the normal sense of the word–as indescribable as it was, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You weren’t too sure what it made you feel.

“Is–is that a yes?” Your face felt hot, and you wanted to slap your hands to it, knowing it’d cool down somewhat, but you forced your hands to remain at your side.

“Yeah, sure,” he quipped, his voice the complete opposite of what his eyes conveyed.

You nodded and hurried over to your bag, leaving it at the foot of your bed when heading into the bathroom, which is where you found it upon exiting.

Spencer had pulled pajamas out, they were neatly folded beside him. “I’d wait a little before showering,” you frowned, “sorry, I must have been in there for ages,” your mouth lilted in a slight smile as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and took up residence near the bedside table, “next time, just to tell me I’m taking too long, I won’t mind.”

He chuckled and you grinned, elated you finally were able to ease the unnecessary tension that had come over the two of you during your staring contest in the moments right before your shower.

“Seriously?” He sounded mirthful and when you looked up his eyes caught yours, your heart studded and you found your cheeks heating up again. He had an eyebrow raised slightly and the small smile that accompanied his expression gave off the impression he was teasing, “You’d be fine with me just walking into the bathroom while you’re in the shower?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in slight confusion and you couldn’t help the awkward smile that wouldn’t leave your mouth, “I was just joking, Spencer, but–if I am taking too long you can bang on or yell through the door.

He nodded, looking away, “I–I know, I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, please,” you snorted and rolled your eyes, trying to crush the way your thoughts raced at the way you absolutely would not give a half a damn if he did. You pressed your hand to your cheeks for a few seconds before continuing to move things out of your bag, you were thinking about how to arrange them in the large chifforobe directly across from your bed. Did Spencer hav–you gasped and dropped an article of clothing as if it had burned you.

“That was not–” you scorned yourself, that was completely inappropriate. You blinked over a few times, thinking it would make the image disappear well from your mind, but it only served to intensify the phantasmagoria.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer was at your side after three blinks. Your eyes widened as he reached for your hands that were opening and closing, trying to grasp any control over yourself.

You stood abruptly, unable to be in any sort of vicinity he was near. “I’m fine–I just, I remembered, I forgot something in the lobby. It must have fallen.” You shrugged, forcing a horrid excuse for a smile onto your lips. You left the room, heading straight for the elevator. You needed the cold-biting air of December to slap some sense into you, it was almost January, thus winter should have been approaching its peak right about now.

You have never–okay, yes, you’ve had small torrent thoughts of coworkers in somewhat unprofessional manners, but none had ever been so vivid–not like the one you had just then. As the elevator opened, you tried assembling the course of thoughts that had led up to the–the Spencer one.

It only took a few minutes for you to understand thinking about it was useless. There was no coherent explanation for the thought you had, no indication of any type of build-up that might have prepared you for the fabrication.

“His eyes,” you heard yourself murmur as the elevator let you off onto the first floor. You ignored the receptionist whom you recognized from only a few hours ago. The glass door was as easily pushed open as it was to pull; the biting air hit your face and you sighed, relief allowing you to breathe once more.

His sleeves were rolled up, your arms laced around his neck as you pulled him against your flushed, exposed skin. You were nearly naked and all but begging him. You had it. His attention. Every single piece of it.

And you were relishing it as he fucked you against that damned chifforobe.

You were startled by the discovery of Spencer’s presence as he pushed open one of the glass doors of the hotel. The carpark was desolate save for the two of you and you felt more vulnerable than you had felt in the daydream.

“Hey,” Spencer lifted his hand slightly, sticking it back in his pocket right after as if he’d cringed at himself.

“Oh, hi,” you pressed your lips into a thin smile, squeezing your eyes so as not to give away the fact that you did not want him to be there.

“You–kind of ran off, I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” his eyes traced up and down your body as if in search of something. A slight smirk grazed his lips, but it was quickly replaced with a frown that felt a little too compelled, “did you find what you were looking for?”

“Nope,” you squeaked, rocking back and forth on your heels. You squeezed your hands together behind your back like you were in prayer or giving thanks, “sorry for bringing you out here, I thought I lost something important and overreacted.”

He didn’t acknowledge your answer immediately, though he did step forward and when he took another step forward, you were inclined to take a step back because you thought the proximity might prompt you to do or say something you definitely shouldn’t be doing or saying with a coworker. He raised his hand to your face, the back of his hand rested on one of your cheeks, your eyes shut on impact, your hands separated and were not fisted.

Your eyes opened when a few low chuckles escaped Spencer’s mouth, he huffed out a few more before pulling his hand back and using it to cover his mouth…watching you. His eyes held that same smug amusement that you’re sure you’ve never seen before this night.

You met his stare, noting that with the coverage of his hand, his expression was just a bit easier to read. Your lips settled into a thin line as you concluded he was messing with you. You cast an unbothered expression over your face, though you felt anything but. “I think the water should be hot enough now.”

Disregarding the moral obligation of waiting for a response, you headed for the hotel’s entrance.

The elevator ride-up wasn’t as tense as you would have thought it to be. You could feel a calm rest over each other’s company. It was almost like a mutual understanding that did not need voicing. Back in the hotel room, Spencer headed into the bathroom without a word, again, you found yourself grateful he decided to spare you.

Even so, you did find it just a bit peculiar because Spencer had never before taken on any particular interest in you, sure you shared conversations–that was to be expected though, as you worked with him. You shared meals and nights out, though only when it was a group thing.

To be sure he drew your curiosity, but you never once thought about indulging in your secret desire because it just never seemed right. This mixup had felt like a gift from God when it was first introduced, because now–you had thought–we’ll be forced to be around each other, no doubt we’ll grow somewhat accustomed to each other’s habits.

Perhaps the thought was a bit excessive, but it was simply the truth to you. How else were you to casually approach Dr. Spencer Reid? The youngest to be scouted in his field?

Well, you now thought grimly, scratch all that, he’s just a genius with an ego.

You approached the chifforobe hesitantly, then hastily sorted your clothing in a few drawers and on a few hangers that were already there. As you set your duffle bag at the bottom of the large space, you heard the shower squeak off and Spencer called your name.

You rolled your eyes but walked toward the bathroom, calling from your side of the closed door, “what?”

“I,” his voice cut off and just when you thought you had waited long enough, the bathroom door swung open halfway and Spencer leaned out.

The first thing you noticed–though unintentionally–was the steam that hit you in the face. You squinted and waved a hand before you, “Jeez, Spencer.”

His face–his hair was wet and water dripped down his head–looked a bit painted, “I left my towel in my bag, get it for me?”

He sounded genuinely displeased at the situation, which is why you huffed and replied, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he yelled, shutting the door again. You ignored the flip your stomach did and shivered.

He had left his suitcase open, his things in a bit of disarray across the bed. You wavered only a moment before letting your hands fly up and down his things. His towel was quite easily discovered, though your eyes lingered on the rest of his things.

You stood and headed back toward the bathroom, knocking. Spencer appeared instantly, a smile spreading to his face. The steam had cooled somewhat, but the bathroom–you could tell–was still very much sauna-like. “Thank you.”

“You said that already.”

He raised a brow, his smile quirking, “thank you, again.”

He stole the towel and shut the door, leaving you standing there. You felt impulsive and thought there would be no way you could get through this entire trip by sharing a room with him. And yet, it was your job, and it would no doubt be questioned, you’d probably–by accident–allude to something that did not occur, and you’d both be in trouble for something so ridiculous: it shouldn’t even be a thought that crossed your mind when you looked at your coworker and yet–the bathroom door opened and Spencer walked out in only a towel–it did.

“What do you think you're doing?” You called from your bed, standing.

“It’s too moist in there, I won’t dry.” He replied as if it were a fact and not an atrocity.

“Yeah–but–” you bit your lip, eyes tracking up and down his torso, something you should most unquestionably not be doing.

He was bent over his things on the bed near the window, you turned your gaze on the floor when his eyes flickered to yours. “But what?” He paused, probably noting your expression, your pursed lips, and your unstill gaze. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable I can go back in. I don’t want to–I’m sorry.” You swore you could hear a lilt in his voice when he began, but it quickly turned into something more…appropriate–like he just realized the embarrassment of what he was doing. He gathered his clothes again and headed for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in damp garments.

And though his frown said ‘I’m sorry,’ his eyes said, ‘I’m going to give you hell’. And hell it was. For the rest of the trip, you could swear Spencer did…things purposefully. Such as lifting his shirt slightly to wipe his face when he got out of the shower, turning his neck just barely so that your gaze would catch on the exposed collarbone. You swore up and down that these were being done on purpose just to make you squirm because–because–well you didn’t really know why Spencer was doing all that.

But you knew it was for you, that was about the only thing you knew to be fact. Your nose scrunched as you recalled the looks he’d given you after every purposeful act–in such a way that it seemed like he wanted to see your reaction–as if he gets off on it.

The jet ride home was no exception to Spencer’s antics, but by this time you had decided for yourself you’d had enough of falling victim to him. You concluded that there could only be one reason Spencer was acting the way he was: because he was attracted to you. You didn’t know why–hell you couldn’t even explain why you were attracted to him in that way–but it piqued your curiosity. If he had the ability to get you to react in such distinct and significant ways, what power did you have over him? That was the dispute you set out to ascertain.

At first, it was harmless, quiet jokes told only loud enough for the two of you to hear. When the jet landed again, you ran a hand through your hair and threw your head back, as if trying to stretch. Your eyes popped open just a few minutes later to find Spencer’s eyes eating up everything from your neck to your collarbone. When he met your eyes, they weren’t amused but rather accusing. He had fallen into your trap and he had just now realised. Some genius, you found yourself regarding him with an internal snort.

“We get the day off tomorrow, right?” Emily’s tone was mirthful, full of sarcasm.

“Yeah, right.” Morgan groaned.

Hotch grimaced, “See you all tomorrow.”

“At nine?” Rossi sounded hopeful.

Your boss sighed, eyes: rolling, but a smile etching itself onto his face, “At nine.”

Small victories, a sigh escaped you under your breath, small victories.

You headed for your car, rummaging through your purse for your keys. A presence loomed over you and you froze, Spencer’s hand lightly pressed against your back as he leaned over you and tilted his head downward, “See you tomorrow —…”

Your breath caught and you tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. Was this real? Was this not the nerdy little geek you were told you’d be working with? The guy who kept getting kidnapped? The one who could barely hold a gun four years into working in the BAU?

He walked away, down the row of cars, looking for the one he owned.

Despite yourself, your lips curled into a sinful grin. You already loved this game.

The next morning, you caught Spencer stepping into the elevator, “hold the door!” You threw your hand out, as you rushed your footsteps.

The elevator wasn’t crowded, but there were five others you did not know, and they were all men, so naturally you moved closer to Spencer. It wasn’t on purpose, but nor was it an accident, more of an instinct. His presence gave you peace of mind as you calmed yourself down.

“Rough morning?” He asked, appearing nonchalant.

You looked up at him as he took a sip of his coffee. The elevator came to a halt and two people shuffled into the elevator after three others left. Your floor was approaching and you felt easier–especially with the extra space–but when you stepped away, a hand caught your waist.

You followed the arm all the way to Spencer’s gaze, the expression there looked to be a mix of contemplation and confusion. His hand dropped when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He was the first to step out of the elevator, you were the fourth.

Penelope found you on her way to the roundtable, stating the others were already there. You followed her and took the only available seat in between Morgan and JJ. Spencer sat right across from you, between Emily and Rossi. When you caught his eyes, his head tilted slightly and a small smirk danced across his lips in the bright light.

Your eyes rolled and you shifted one leg over the other under the table.

Penelope read off the new case and while many questions were thrown out, you and Spencer kept playing the game of ‘who could make who more embarrassed’; though you both were incredibly refined at your job and were able to keep it from the insight of the others.

Hotch stood and said, “jet’s up in 15,” before rushing out of the room.

You stood as well, needing to collect all the things you might have left on your desk and turn in your report to Hotch you forgot. Rossi had followed your boss–it was probably something about Strauss, it always was whenever they acted like that. Emily, Morgan, and Penelope were having a conversation while JJ said something to Spencer and began a small exchanges. Your eyes were laser focused on her, you felt a sort of conviction fall over you. You didn’t think you were jealous, no–it was anything like that because you knew Spencer was only trying to get under your skin. Instead, you felt a sense of thrill and couldn’t help the smirk that edged its way onto your face as you floated right past them without batting an eye.

You heard his chair squeak as he leaned back, eyes trailing your figure as you exited the roundtable room. Upon approaching your desk you smacked your hands to your cheeks, helping them cool off while ignoring the chatter of the office. You searched your bag a bit until you found the documents you had been looking for.

You froze, you could feel his stare, but when you glanced around, you couldn’t find him anywhere. Your eyes narrowed as you sifted through each and every face, there–in the breakroom behind the glass… Spencer had one hand in his pocket and one holding a mug of coffee, his eyes anything but innocent. He mouthed something, but only when you noted the absense of your other team members were you able to put together his words. We’re leaving.

You met each other in the stairwell of the rooftop, you ignored the simmering in your chest as he veered over you and pushed open the door. He smelled good– god he smelled good. You forced yourself not the make it obvious you were trying to drink in and savor his scent when he let out a shuddering breath. Your eyes popped open–which is when you realized you had shut them. What is wrong with me? You allowed your eyes to track up his face, starting from his shoulders.

He was so close you could see him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared you donw, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes were hazy and he wasn’t staring at you, but your throat. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. When he found your gaze again his jaw yet and he pulled himself together. His eyes were no longer dangerous, but they still set some kind of fear in you.

“We should go,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond until you began moving. He called your name only once, but when you looked back, a grin–small, but fucking there–destroyed his firm calmness from only moments ago, and replaced it with egotistical destruction.

There were so much said in that single expression and yet nothing at all that would have been picked up by a team of profilers, let alone a stranger–it was as if this look was designed specifically for you–designed just to become your undoing. You fucking hated Spencer Reid and his big ass ego, but you wanted him–by all hell you wanted him.

Though you’d soon find that wanting him was nothing compared to needing him.

The rest of the case came and went in a similar manner you had dreamt about the night before. You and Spencer shared lingering looks, murmured things in front of the team that, though made sense in the moment, his the underlying meaning only the two of you could pick up. You honestly found it surprising no one had caught on to what was transpiring between you and Spencer, although to be perfectly honest, you, yourself, had no idea what was transpiring between you and Spencer.

You didn’t seek each other out, but whenever you were together–alone or with others–there was this spark of craving you couldn’t quite explain out loud, and even when you thought about it, you didn’t know the right term for it other than a game. What else could it be? You couldn’t relly put togehter the events that had started it, but you knew it began sometimes on the 3-day case–maybe even that first night in the hotel. A shiver crawled up your spine, you watched Spencer out of the corner of your eye, reading. He could normally be found in the front of the jet, lying down and napping or reading.

When you were alone, all your thoughts revolved if not around the case at hand, Spencer. You didn’t want to compare it to an obsession, because what it really was was a little less of that and a little more of a desire to learn him. His body, his mind, his cravings and and fantasies. It was everything you had never felt and it scared you. There was no logical explanation to Spencer being the onset to these emotions, and yet if you’d never met Spencer, who was to say these feelings would have ever been unleashed?

It was late, but you were glad you were going to get to sleep in your bed two nights in a row. It felt like a blessing from the heavens, but then your realzied you’d have to see Spencer again tomorrow and go through the fervency all over again. Now, it felt more like irony.

Weeks of the same longing, the same wandering eyes, the same muttered whispers, the same damn game. Though you’d gotten used to your little gambit of brash actions, you weren’t tired in the least. It was–as sad as you had to admit–the most fun you’d ever had with a person.

It was fun until it became real. The team hadn’t caught on, but that was particularly due to the fact your efforts always occurred out of pure chance. You never made it obvious and he was especially good at hiding his feats, it seemed to you he was consistently able to accomplish his devious acts right under the nose of his superiors.

You reasoned that it was perhaps because none of them would ever suspect him of any of the things he was taking up in his pastime. Not even yourself would have guessed he was like this if he hadn’t shown you, or if you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes always seemed to look the opposite of whatever his face was saying in the moment.

Despite all of this, however, you hadn’t touched–at all, no brush of the hands, no accidental shoulder bumping, nor anything on purpose; not since he’d grabbed your waist in the elevator that first day back at Quantico. The contemplation in his eyes then occurred to you at night. You tried to make out what it meant–to him at least, but never could. It was one of those thoughts that kept you up, staring at the ceiling, hoping exhaustion would so its job and prevent the misery that inveitable came without it.

Tonight, though, you didn’t know how you were going to fare against pretending to be with him. It was for the case–you kept reminding yourself as you changed into a little black dress. Everyone looked good in black, it was a color that also hid a person well enough in a club–perfect for an undercover agent.

The decision to have you go in with Spencer instead of JJ was his idea. Of course it was his. He’d proposed the switchup at the roundtable meeting that morning–and as soon as he had, you’d jolted in your seat. He’d continued talking, glancing at you now and then as if he’d actually believed the difference between you and JJ would matter.

Regardless, because you were closer in age–by only a few years, you’d wanted to remind everyone–it’d be more believable that you were together, he’d also dropped an “it’d be more comfortable that way”, which swayed Morgan and Emily, JJ kept silent during the entire tirade–though not angry, was incredibly, almost blatantly long.

You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but at the time you weren’t too much focussed on her, the looming fact that you’d have to touch him in ways you’d only thought about touching him to do your job? It terrified you. Not because you were afraid of acting out your fantasy–but because you weren’t sure if you could control yourself enoug to where it was just acting.

You slipped the dainty dress on and hid your gun and badge in your boots. You let your natural hair fall loose, but kept a hair tie on your wrist. Stepping out of the only bathroom in the police station you were currently residing in, holding your work clothes against your chest , you noted the imminent stares. Instinctively using your clothing to cover your thighs as you met the others in the front. Spencer kept his eyes in check–smart boy, you bit back a smirk–but the rest of the team complimented you, Hotch and Rossi having almost completely different ways of doing so, you snorted at the contrast.

Spencer took the driver seat of a vehicle you were borrowing, the dark of a December night threatening to conceal the thing entirely. You gazed out the window, “they’re following us right?”

“Everyone will be outside and prepared.”

“I can’t believe this,” you sighed, throwing your head back.

“The fact that we’re going undercover or the fact that you have to wear that piece of cloth?” Spencer asked, though his manner was light, there was a rough undertone that heated your insides.

“I was wondering when you were going to bring it up,” you sighed carelessly, waving a hand, “I just thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“Everyone noticed.” The mask of his facade was slowly slipping away, revealing a much colder side to Spencer–one you had the pleasure of seeing more and more of the past three weeks than in all of the six months you’d been in the BAU.

“Yeah,” you smooth down the dress, “I wouldn’t normally wear this type of thing out unless I was looking to bring someone home.”

“Oh really?” You could practically hear his eyebrows raise. “You never wear things like that when we go out for drinks.”

“Precisely my point,” you quipped.

Spencer pulled into the club’s parkinglot. It took you less than five minutes to get inside. At first, you were sitting at the bar, but then, Spencer, with the earpiece attached to him, relayed the message from Hotch. Penelope had given everyone access to the inside of the club, they were watching you two through the cameras. You forced yourself not to glance at them–even the tiniest slipup could reveal you to the unsub, and you wanted them to target, not avoid you.

“They want us to dance.” Spencer sighed loud enough to where you could hear it over the noise.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, because that’s exactly how the unsubs target their victims–didn’t we go over this in the profile? Your smile tightened as you spun and headed for the floor, crowded by so many–oh that’s not hygienic.

“Yeah, okay, maybe we skip this part,” Spencer grimaced from his palace beside you.

“You think?” You raised an unimpressed brow at the blurred figures in front of you.

He murmured something Hotch and they went back and forth a little, though you couldn’t hear exactly what was said, Spencer’s face of triumph was all you needed to breathe a sigh of relief.

You found yourselves hiding in the corner at the back, there weren’t many people crowding around you which made you perfect for the unsubs, though the appearance of them at this club tonight was purely based on instinct, gut feelings, and careful, calculated guessing, there was still a chance they wouldn’t show themselves.

You didn’t mean for it to happen like this, you were doing everything in your power to stay composed and in control, but some part of you–the defiant, terrible side of you–wanted so badly to see his reaction when you touched him.

His frame leaned over you, holding you against the probably dirty wall, the sensual music that played a heavy beat around you felt like an instigator. Sweat slipped down his neck and it drew your attention, all of a sudden Spencer tensed, then he relaxed slightly but it felt forced, “They have eyes on the unsubs.”

“How many,” You compelled your eyes to stay on his though they wanted to scour the area around you and find just exactly who he was talking about–which would be idiotic, of course.

“That’s right,” he swallowed–ignoring your question, your eyes caught his throat bobbing–he noticed. “Keep your eyes on me,” you nodded at his words, feeling your throat drying as you neglected the need to trace his collarbone with both your fingers and gaze.

His hair was a mess of damp curls and his face was barely visible in the bright, flashing lights, but you had a job to do–and yet here you were, gripping the collar of his shirt, brushing back the hair that fell in his face as he looked at you with those eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, “but if you aren’t up for this just tell me now.” His voice lilted at a challenge, but you heard the mumble ordered in the earpiece–by hell he could yank you hair almost completely out and you wouldn’t give a damn.

You held his regard with one of your own, eyes narrowed, “Just do it.”

And he did. But he also didn’t. His smirk narrowed ere leaning in. He gripped your face with an elephants strength and a swan’s gracefulness. You closed your eyes, waiting for his lips, but he swerved at the last moment and kissed the skin below your ear. He trailed a few kisses down your neck but stayed close to your hearing range, evidently, he was teasing–you wanted to scoff but couldn’t find it in you to make him stop.

“How’s this?” He murmured.

“You’re an ass,” you replied huffed, trying to mask a groan.

He grinned against your neck, “I know.”

The club case was the reason you and Spencer now ensured you were always together. From then on, you seemed to not want to be anywhere else the other wasn’t–or rather, you felt more comfortable with each other and couldn’t bring yourselves to leave the other alone.

Not that either of you minded and you still did your jobs perfectly fine–though there was more intensity when the other was in any sort of danger, it only propelled the one that wasn’t to learn how to do their job quicker. It was both a fast track to understanding how to adapt to constant situations that warped your idea of what was really going on. When he got something wrong–which was rare but not absolute. After about a month of this, you were starting to question what you were to him–what he was to you.

Though you still weren’t sure how to properly ask that question. You hadn’t slept together, though you thought about it all the time you weren’t at work…and perhaps sometimes when you were… Those thoughts slipped through on occasion–but it wasn't anything that hadn’t been transpiring before the club case.

It was as if the ‘who can make the other person more embarrassed’ game had been turned into the ‘what can I do to make you squirm this time’ game. Like the rules of the game had somehow intensified and touching was now allowed and despite all of the things that ensued upon the new rule instatement, you still had not taken it further than work.

It kept you up most nights, and you wondered when this cycle of what are we would end–if it would take one of you getting into a relationship–though you were sure Spencer didn’t have to worry about you in that department–and although you hated it, the fact was that Spencer was the only one you could think about. It was as if the man had ruined sex for you altogether.

You fucking hated Spencer Reid–and that fucking chifforobe.

Your heart dropped in your chest. You refused to give Spencer the satisfaction of looking over at him–though he seemed just as surprised as you. At this point anything could happen–and by anything you mean anything. Because anything would be better than having to share a room with him again. You were so tired you could barely recall what that even meant.

But then again, a small part of you whispered, this could be your chance. My chance? You scoffed, my chance at what? Making a fool of myself? Because confronting him means admitting I can’t stop–thinking about him. And that, to you, would feel like admitting defeat. It’d feel like losing the game–oh and you really felt like you were winning! Winning at what again? God, you needed sleep.

“Are you planning on getting in the shower first?,” he asked as soon as you were behind the door, away from prying ears and nosy coworkers.

You let out a heavy sigh and held your arms up to stretch, yawning–“honestly, I might just head to bed, it’s late and I could really use the sleep.”

“Have you not been able to sleep at night?” He set his things on the bed near the window as you claimed the one near the door.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, although a bit more to yourself than to him.

“Do you know why?” He seemed genuinely curious–but as you faced him, all you could think was, if only you knew.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ and grimaced as you laid your back against the bed, arms spread like a starfish, your duffle bag discarded near your feet at the end of the bed.

You felt Spencer watching you, but for the first time in a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You quite literally had been running on nothing but coffee for the past day and a half–and you were in desperate need of some sleep–especially if you wanted to be at your best tomorrow.

“Here,” you hadn't heard Spencer approach you–you blamed his Hotch training. You cracked open an eye as he pushed you on your side. Your back burned at where he’d touched you, but it was quickly overshadowed when you heard him yank the bedspread down as hard as he could. “Come, on,” he huffed, pulling your shoes off and setting them beside your bag.

You forced yourself under the cover and snuggled, “the light?” you grumbled.

“First, your blazer,” he held out a hand. You whined but made quick work of ridding yourself of the fabric. “You sure you don’t want to change into something more comfortable–”

“Spencer.” You warned.

“Yeah, I hear you,” he reached for the lamp atop the bedside table–smaller than the one from the last hotel room you’d shared–the chifforobe near the window was smaller as well. He hummed as the thoughts faded in and passed through his mind.

Spencer found himself forgetting everything else as he sat in the bed opposite yours and leaned his arms on his thighs, watching you. A few minutes passed, but only when a knock sounded on the door did he realize he maybe shouldn’t be watching his coworker like a creep. Though, you weren’t really a coworker, were you?

Well–he meant you were–but you were also more than that, though he didn’t exactly know if your relationship had a name, he knew that it entailed things normal coworkers did not have. He knew what he wanted–but to outright say it felt like disrupting the sort of balance you’d gotten accustomed to–as if going out and actually attempting to take what he wanted would break the trance that had set over the two of you–it’d be throwing all the rule’s to the game away, and then what did either of you have left? Rules were important, if not necessary. He couldn’t chance it–not yet at least.

“Hey, oh,” Morgan tried looking around the room.

Spencer felt his eyes roll as he stepped into the hall and shut the door slightly behind him, careful not to shut it completely as he didn’t have the key card and he didn’t want to wake you up. “Yes?”

Morgan nodded behind him, “she’s asleep?”

“She’s really tired,” Spencer affirmed.

“Right,” his eyes fell back on Spencer, and for a second, he thought Morgan might be analyzing his form.

“Was there something you needed?” Spencer pressed, eager to head back into the room, unpack his suitcase, and head to bed himself.

“Ah, no, we were just going to order food–but I guess you don’t want anything either?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for asking.”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan once again glanced behind Spencer, whose irritation at the suspicion was steadily increasing.

“She’d not dead,” Spencer stated, though he meant it as a joke it came out rather harsh.

“Alright, pretty boy, I didn’t say she was.” Morgan chuckled, patting Spencer on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

Spencer made quick work of unloading his things, he thought about getting in the shower but feared it’d wake you. Instead, he debated on whether or not he should leave your things in you bag or do you a favor and put them away. He didn’t want you to consider him a snoop, especially with how you’d been looking at each other the past few weeks–and that undercover case.

His heartbeat picked up, and he couldn't stop thinking about it–it was the thing he fell asleep to at night; it was gradually eating away at him, and he couldn’t deny the way his body tensed whenever he recalled the image of you under the flashing array of lights–how you’d looked so…submissive.

He hastily shoved that thought to the furthest corner he could find in his mind and headed for your bag. He didn’t want to be brash with the way he put your clothing away, but he also didn’t you to wake up while he was holding your underwear–then he’d truly feel like a creep.

He was halfway done when you mumbled something; he froze and he could feel the thump of his heart in his chest. Though it was still winter, he’d begun to sweat and had set his glasses aside because they kept sliding off the bridge of his nose. He’d been wearing them more often than not for the past few months as he’d found them to be a particular fascination of yours. It was now that he squinted and moved his hand around for them.

His footsteps carried him quietly across the room, near your bedside. “—?” He whispered and when you failed to respond, lifted a tentative hand to your cheek–though just before the pads of his fingertips met your skin, you mumbled something again–and this time, he could hear it. He fisted his hand and used the bedside table to hold himself up, and although he couldn’t see them, he knew his hands were turning white with how hard he was squeezing them.

Again. He wanted to hear it again–his prayers were answered as you shifted slightly, tugging the cover up to your neck. Skimming down your person, he bit his fist and tried to calm himself down. Again. He needed to sit down, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt it twitch–he needed to walk away right now. And he did, but instead of picking up where he’d left off with your clothing, he headed for the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on as he shut himself in complete darkness.

Images of you, your stolen glances, and desperate touches filled his mind. He was particularly focused on the tired way you slurred his name in your sleep. He wondered what kind of dreams you were having, what you were picturing as you said his name like that. He muffled his groans as he stroked himself, using his fist to bite back anything that might escape the small confines of the washroom. His thoughts of you were possibly the only thing he allowed himself to go to extensive lengths with. His mouth watered at the mere concept of you and your twisting legs. He’d done this a considerable amount of times before–but this was the first time you were so close– a hairsbreadth away.

It felt both right and wrong, and yet the lines began fading into oblivion as he came closer to climax.

He whimpered into his hand just as he came. It was odd, he didn’t too much feel like a creep after he cleaned himself up, but upon washing his hands profusely and returning to put your garments away, he was once more–afraid of what you’d think if you caught him messing with your things.

Although a part of him felt it might have been because he wanted you to find him in that state, he tried rationalizing–but the more he thought about it–even as he now rested his head against a pillow–the more he found that ‘might’ to be absolute truth.

You woke up to the smell of coffee. You stretched, yawned, and pried your eyes open. Rolling onto your side, you found Spencer devouring a book, his glasses at the tip of his nose. You smiled, thinking you were dreaming–but then his eyes shifted over to yours and your smile fell, you quickly understood this Spencer was real–oh no–your cheeks burned from last night's delusions. “Good morning,” he smiled. You groaned and sat up, your hands finding your cheeks, “what time is it?”

“It’s around six, you have,” he checked his watch, “an hour and thirty minutes, Hotch wants us ready before eight.”

You huffed and threw yourself back against the pillows. New Years had come and gone and you hadn't even celebrated...though, your mind with all the ways you could make up for it–you shook the thoughts away, now was not the time.

Five minutes later you were searching for your clothing, but your bag was practically empty, “did you move my things?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, “ah–yeah,” he motioned toward the chifforobe. You glared at it as he said, “It’s small, so some of our things are mixed, but you should be able to find whatever you’re looking for easily.”

“Thank you” You appreciated his simple act of affection, it made your chest ache.

“Yeah, sure.” Despite going back to reading his book, Spencer snuck small glimpses of you from the corners of his eyes.

As the hot water ran down your back, you found yourself thinking of Spencer, just a few feet away, you were practically naked and he could walk in at any moment, you felt an ache between your thighs, but you shrugged it off–or at least you tried to.

You hadn’t had sex since that incident with Spencer a few weeks ago. You tried–by all God did you try–but you just couldn’t It led to a few arguments with the guys you’d taken home–and your credit, you did feel just a little bad. All the same, you simply couldn’t seem to get him out of your mind. It was like he was mocking or watching you every time you attempted it–he was that tiny, little voice in the back of your head feigning disappointment, saying you wouldn’t purge the sexual frustration unless it were him. Though you were a saint at keeping it hidden, your agitation only built.

The day was more or less: “Spencer, what do you see?” from Hotch and “—, if you were the unsub…” from Morgan. Penelope was on call a few times and you were so close, but it had grown late and you needed sufficient unwinding. After a group dinner in the hotel lobby that primarily consisted of takeout and the small meal provided by the hotel staff, you headed up to your room. Spencer stayed to grab one last cup of coffee before the staff closed the mailroom for good. Thus, with your alone time, you decided to wash off all the griminess of the day.

You were drying yourself with a towel when you heard him enter, “I’m almost done,” you shouted, “I think there’s still some hot water left.”

His lack of response piqued your curiosity. You threw your clothing on once you were mostly just damp and yanked the door open. You were pulling your hair back into a ponytail when he looked up. He’d just set his cup of coffee on the table near the lamp, which now that you noticed, was the only light that lit up the room, he had turned the big llight off.

“You okay?” You rubbed your face, dropping your hands to your side right after, “did you hear me?”

“No, sorry,” he frowned, “I wasn’t paying attention.” He stood.

“Oh, I just said–if you wanted to get in, there’s still hot water left.” You thrust a your thumb behind you.

“Ah, thanks.” You nodded and pursed your lips. “So, what book were you reading this morning?” You took up the spot Spencer had just abandoned.

He turned and watched you–filling the area. He caught the way your legs pressed together as you crossed them to sit more comfortably against the pillows, attention to the book he’d been reading that morning.

“I’m going to get in the shower,” he cursed himself as he felt desire pool in his throat. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss you, to touch you–to taste you. His mouth watered at the prospect and he felt himself harden just like the night before. His shower was quick as the water had gotten cold and had quickly ruined his mood.

“You lied to be,” he glared at you from the threshold of the bathroom door.

You bit your lip, but still, a smile graced your mouth, “sorry, I thought it would last.” He shook his wet hair around around, mimicking the actions a puppy would.

“What?” His eyes widened slightly and his eyebrows raised, “what did you call me?”

A hand flew to your mouth, your own surprise showing, “I–” of bloody course, you said it out loud.

He stepped forward, dropping his towel on the bed, “say it again.” It was odd, the way he said it–like it was both a question and a demand–or rather, a demand he questioned your willingness to obey.

“…puppy?” you tried laughing it off, “Sorry, it just came out–I didn’t mean t–”

“Didn’t you, though?” Came a mirthful reply. Spencer stepped forward, towering over you as he leaned down, bringing his face near yours, one hand on the bed near your hips, the other on the bedside table. “Is that what you’ve thought of me this entire time?”

And what the hell were you supposed to say to that? Game on is what Spencer saw in your eyes as you set the book on the table, your hand purposely roaming over his as you pulled it back. “No,” you stated, a nonchalant expression crossing your features as your eyes turned away from his, the move calculated, “only sometimes.”

Spencer didn’t think the table would be able to withstand him much longer, but it did as he thought of ways he might proceed. Eventually, he let go and instead wrapped his firm fingers around your nape, forcing your attention to his. “And do you think that now?”

He watched a Chesire grin take its place upon your mouth. “If I said yes, would that anger you, Dr. Reid?” The mocking was unnecessary, but it sure as hell was a lot more fun than if you simply addressed him as ‘Spencer’ or ‘Reid’.

The parental-like tone you took up furthered his new-growing erection. His hair still dripped with water and as a water droplet streaked down his face, you lifted your hand to wipe it with your thumb. His hand let your your neck go to snatch your wrist–God you wanted him so badly. This witty banter–you were already starting to find–just wasn’t enough anymore.

Your eyes reapproached his, they seemed to meet with the same level of desire, completely forgetting that there was a serial killer on the loose, your eyes dipped to his lips only once before you leaned forward–but while you did he pushed you back, your back hitting the bedframe and just as you caught your breath, you found yourself being deprived of air once more.

Spencer was hungry, he tasted like coffee and something minty. Your hands tangled through his hair and while he suffocated you in the only way you’d ever want to be suffocated, you tugged. It barely stopped him the first time, but the second and third had his eyes rolling.

When they found you again, noting the playful glint in your eyes, he vowed he would go as far as you’d let him tonight–and perhaps the night after that, he hadn’t quite thought it through, and at this time, he neither had the strength nor the want to do so.

He began tugging at your t-shirt, but you grabbed his hand, “ah-ah,” you clicked your tongue, “you have to earn that.”

He paused and took a step back, watching you now, your knees digging into the softness of the mattress; your mouth darkened with the visceral kisses he’d forced on you. Your eyes sparked with something he knew he’d never be able to find in any other woman. His lips quirked, his eyes were hooded, and his voice thick when he asked, “What do I have to do?”

The need in his voice was enough to shed you of your clothing right then and there, but it seemed you had a lot more self-control than he did in the moment. You tugged your hair out of the loosened, droopy ponytail it had fallen into and brushed it back, smoothing it out to appear just how you wanted it to. You felt his eyes on you, patient, but every second he was, was a second his lust grew, and the moment you gave him the okay–well, he honestly couldn’t say just what he’d be capable of.

“You seem agitated, Spencer,” you pouted, shifting so that your legs fell in front of you over the edge of the bed. His eyes tracked your movements as he used your bed’s bedpost to steady himself, “just how many times have you pictured me like this?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” came his frivolity response. To be frank, he knew the exact answer to your question, but the first thing that flew into his head and out of his mouth was–to be sure–an edging reply. He watched how you interpreted it.

In a moment of unconsciousness, you glanced at the chifforobe across from you. Spencer caught that shit.

“Oh?” He raised a brow, finding the confidence to step forward.

“Don’t get any ideas, Reid.” You warned, but he could see the arguments going on between your eyes.

“No, see: I think it’s your idea.” He corrected, a deep, rumble of a laugh fell from his throat, “So, what exactly did you picture me doing with this thing.” He snorted and walked over to it, running a hand along the cupboard. You bit your lit, your dreams coming into clear view as if they were a film playing in front of you.

“Spencer,” you stood both embarrassed and a little annoyed.

You marched over to it at placed a hand on his shoulder–but then you were against the doors of the small chifforobe and Spencer was whispering just above your ear, “Was this it? Your sick fantasies of me? Did they include me having you against a wardrobe?”

Your breath caught and you wanted to hide your face because there was no doubt he’d be able to see the truth without you having to voice any sort of answer–but the jerk had his hand cupped around your jaw, and his grip was unimaginably strong for–well, him.

He smiled and tilted his head–and God only knew what that did to your resolve. Your knees weakened and you found yourself whimpering. “So, I guess that’s a yes.” You found just enough strength to narrow your eyes and look somewhat pissed. He nodded, “the shirt,” he tugged at the bottom.

You bit back a repost as he dropped his hands and stepped away, though he kept his distance close enough to where you felt his presence even after you’d lifted your shirt and he was out of sight. His eyes didn’t leave yours, you admired his stoicism; you’d already proved you weren’t any match when your eyes traced every line anytime you saw a sliver of his stomach, hips, neck, or forearms–okay maybe you had a bit of an obsession, but could it honestly be considered that when the look he was giving you screamed ‘wolf in sheep's clothing’?

“What other things have you thought up in that horny brain of yours, I wonder,” he spoke almost to himself, but his ever-focused gaze told you he was quite literally asking.

“That’s not how the game works,” a cheeky grin reformed your scowl.

“Right,” he paused, turning his eyes to the ceiling for effect, “remind me?”

Your eyes roved from one eye to the other, and back again, searching for any hint of hesitation, “this foreplay is kind of starting to get old.”

“Yes, I can agree–” you cut him off midsentence with a ravenous kiss. You could swear you bit him more than once, but he wasn’t complaining. Your head lulled to the side as he trailed kisses up and down your neck, finding a spot he particularly liked just below your ear.

Your hands twisted in his hair, yanking, tugging, and pulling–whatever got the most responses from him, you were doing. You threw his shirt to the side and pushed him toward the bed. He braced himself using his arms, though they were swiftly in motion again, wrapping around your waist as you stepped between his legs. “What do you want?” You asked, attempting to catch your breath.

He laughed, but when he realized you were serious he almost snorted, “What do I–what do I want?”

“It’s a simple question,” you shrugged, “what do you want from me?”

Now–now his eyes dipped, “I want a lot of things.”

You bit back another grin. Somehow in the few minutes, you’d been running around the room talking about how horny you both were, you’d ended up on the bed, your head behind a pillow. Spencer was between your legs, mouth-watering. He’s waited so long, he honestly didn’t think this foretold moment would ever actually occur, but God, was he glad he’d been wrong. Heavy, sinful eyes skimmed your lower body as he fumbled with the top of your shorts. His hands were warm despite the dreary weather outside, likely due to his recent shower. They pressed into your thighs as he brought his face just above your lower stomach, his name fell from your mouth in a whine, leading him to push aside the cover of your shorts. He drug a few fingers over your center.

Your moans sliced through the rough tension that had fallen over the hotel room. “What?” His snort was low and sloppy, “Oh, is–,” one of his fingers gently slid over you and your eyes shut, “–is this what you want?” His eyes traced the arch of your neck that was most exposed, the one lined with the red marks he’d left. The twitching beneath his sweatpants pulled a groan from his lips.

He swirled his finger around, feeling your wetness was more than inviting. “Spencer,” you cried, eyes flying open at the loss of contact.

“Be still,” he said, his voice wavering as he tugged everything off and discarded them on the floor. You watched him watch you–it wasn’t until you noted the way his eyes narrowed that you understood he was outlining your form–so that he could vividly paint it in his mind for a later purpose.

“I asked first,” you frowned up at him.

“You’re right,” he sighed, “here: let me show you what I want.”

Your breath caught as he lowered himself, his face coming right up to you, and with the way he was drooling at the sight, you could tell he’d been thinking about this for a while–it made you wonder if his desire had begun a lot sooner than yours had.

His mouth was warm, his tongue stroked up and down as far as they could go, and even when you thought he’d reached that point, he proved you wrong. Your hands knotted in his hair as you guided his head. His mouth was warm as he lapped up everything. You tried keeping your moan to a minimum, but when he stopped, your eyes popped open–had you done something wrong? But no, he was looking up at you with those desperate, puppy-like eyes, “please,” his whisper was grating, “I want to hear you.”

You swallowed, the ache building in you, “if that’s what you want,” you nodded.

And a few moments later, you were calling out his name in a way you’d never called anyone name. This was so new, you’d never had a guy worship you like this and you couldn’t fathom the fact that Spencer wanted to do it for your pleasure as well as his own.

You tried to hold it in, but your body had been desolate of attention for so long that you just couldn’t anymore. You could hear him slurp, and God did it do something to your brain chemistry– He considered you with clouded eyes. “Are you okay?” He frowned, pushing his body over yours.

Without giving him time to settle, you yanked his jaw toward your face with firm hands, he tasted like you and smelled of his shampoo–and yet, there was still the unknown Spencer scent that seemed only his skin could produce. You lined his jaw with kisses, your heart pounding in your chest with every new groan that escaped him.

My turn,” you huffed, definitely the cause of the lopsided grin that spread across his mouth. Though his hair was a mousy brown, in the dim yellow lamplight, it was as dark as the wood that made up the vintage furniture. It looked windswept or like he had just woken up–and perhaps he had. It was no longer a deniable fact that he’d never feel this good with anyone else, and he didn’t know how long this relationship with you would last, so he would milk everything he could out of it and–and in exchange, surrender everything he had of himself.

It was only a few seconds later that you had him on his back, hands roving up and down his chest. You rubbed yourself against him, eliciting sweet sounds from his throat and friction from where you were just barely connected. You made sure to hold his gaze as you slid onto him. His jaw tightened and you could feel relief leave him as his chest fell. You tightened around him, trying to get used to him, you had to pause for a second–you couldn’t believe you were doing this–and in a moment of incompetence, you laughed.

“Sorry,” you lowered your chest onto his and began chuckling into his neck, “it’s just–what would the other think if they knew?”

Spencer pushed your shoulder away and held you above him, “I guess it’s a good thing they don’t, right?”

You nodded, but a small part of you wondered about what that meant for the after. Spencer groaned as you sat back up, you started slowly, hissing as you let him fill you. Spencer gave out his fair share of whimpers, but you wanted more, you wanted to make him cry.

You gripped his hair with one hand and the pillow beside him with another, you rolled your hips and wiggled every time you sat back down. Squeezing your thighs seemed to make him shudder the most, and when you added sucking to the mix, you knew you had him.

“There it is,” your grin was devilish as you swiped at his cheek. He opened his eyes just in time to see you licking his tears off your thumb.

“I might ask what we are now,” you huffed a laugh as Spencer shut the bathroom door. He had been a complete gentleman about everything, cleaning you, massaging your shoulders. You’d never had such an experience, you’d never thought there could be more to having sex if you only had the right partner; now that you did, there was…but you were unsure about yourself.

You found your mind questioning all you knew about Spencer and what this all meant to you. You had asked him what he wanted from you, but did you even know what you wanted from him? Before, the question might have thrown you off–though Spencer had asked it, you weren’t taking him all too seriously. Now that you had more time to contemplate your roving thoughts, you knew the answer as if it had been written in your DNA.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as sat beside you, you were facing the window and the chifforobe.

“Well, what else would we be?” He paused, almost hesitatingly. You jerked your head toward his, eyes searching, and as the seconds of silence ticked by, he seemed to fade more and more into himself. When he turned his head and averted his eyes, saying, “I mean–if that’s not what you want–” you cut him off.

“No, I just–” you stopped yourself, unsure of how to explain the complications running through your mind, “I’m just not exactly sure what that means…”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. You opened your mouth to clarify–probably more than necessary–but your words caught in your throat as Spencer stood and lowered to his knees in front of you. He was between your thighs, but there was nothing sexual about it–if anything it felt like the complete opposite kind of intimacy you had grown accustomed to with him.

His hands reached for yours, pulling them into your lap. He looked up at you with possibly the one look Spencer Reid had never given anyone. His eyes couldn’t decide which one of yours to focus on for the longest time, but when he did, his tone was guttural and almost choking, trusting.

“The more time I spend with you, the more I feel I’ve always known you. These past few weeks–they weren’t the beginning for me.” Your mouth suddenly went dry, though you still tried to swallow. “I–I honestly don’t know when it started, but the more I felt drawn to you, the more I forced myself away. It–I don’t–I didn’t think I deserved to feel that way–I guess…”

You waited a few moments to ensure he was finished, your mind ran to look for the best possible response–but given the one-in-a-million situation you were in, your mind went blank. Instead, you rambled the first words that rolled into your mind just as you whispered the last, “I want you in every way, Spencer. It’s like–like you’ve bewitched me–”

“...body and soul,” he finished, “it’s…Jane Austen–sorry.” He cringed.

You threw your head back and laughed, then huffed, wiping a few tears from your eyes, “No, oh, no don’t worry. See this is why I love you,” Your heart came to an abrupt halt, and you felt as if you were dead, “no–I mean, I don’t–I mean, I–well, I do, but I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you followed his face as he stood and leaned down, his palm brushing across your face as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and leaned forward, “It’s okay, know what you meant,” the end of his sentence was muffled by another kiss.

“So, do you think they’ve caught on yet?” JJ asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Uhh, I’d say probably not.” Emily nodded.

“Would you like the share with the class?” Morgan raised a brow.

“Oh, I know this one,” Penelope hand shot up, her jewelry clinking against one another, “because — and Reid still think we don’t know.”

“I mean how could we not, though?” JJ huffed a laugh, setting her mug on the table in front of her.

“Know what?” Rossi smacked his lips, startling the group of four.

“Know…the complexities of…nail polish?” Penelope tried and failed to save the group.

All four members winced as Hotch appeared seemingly out of thin air and stated, “they think we don’t know about Spencer and —.” “What?” Rossi shook his head, following Hotch, “how could we not know? They’re so obvious.”

a/n: sorry for the wait, but i do proofread my fics because i just can't stand things not being as good as they could be–i'm a bit of a perfectionist lol irregardless, happy late new year !!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

287 notes · View notes

burrowdarling · 2 days ago

Text

A New Tradition

Summary: You wanted to start a new tradition this Christmas by opening one gift early...and you both picked the right gift.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x gifrlfriend!reader

Warnings: Cheesy gifts and conversation, some fluffy Christmas content

Note: Hi everyone! Sorry for the lack of content recently, work was crazy with the holidays. I'm hoping to figure out a posting schedule for the new year. Enjoy this late Christmas post requested by this lovely anon. Better late than never, hope you enjoy! Happy gamedey!

Word Count: 2.3k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

It was Christmas Eve, and the snow was gently falling outside, blanketing the world in a quiet, peaceful stillness. The winter wasn’t exactly your favorite time of year, but it was something you had grown more fond of since you and Joe had gotten together. You’d spent the afternoon in the kitchen, baking cookies together (though Joe mostly just ate the dough), and now you were getting ready to settle on the couch, mugs of hot cocoa in hand with Joe looking for a Christmas movie to play. Watching the snow slowly fall outside of your living room window brought you back to that night, the memories flooding back in of how your relationship had started.

You and Joe had started to grow closer at the beginning of the Bengal’s season a few years back, with Joe officially asking you to be his girlfriend shortly after Christmas. The 27th to be exact. He had an entire date planned out at this cute little cafe outside of the city in hopes for some type of reprieve from the usual spotlight and prying eyes. Joe wanted to keep things light and low pressure, fearing he would mess things up with you if he over-thought too much about it. The date went perfect, constant banter back and forth between you two with laughs and gentle touches. His humor and smile had you swooning.

You guys took a walk around the area after finishing up, taking in the lights that decorated the streets. The snow was lightly falling, making the whole scene in front of you feel like something out of one of those Hallmark movies. It was under the mistletoe at one of the decorated sidestreets where Joe had asked you to be his girlfriend, sealing your exclusivity with a kiss you think back on to this day. Since then, it has made one of your favorite holidays that much more special in your eyes.

After a few years together, you decided to get your own place and work towards starting your own life together. This would be your first Christmas together in your home, having spent the time meticulously decorating it to your liking with Joe’s help. It had the perfect balance of cozy and comfort, two things you strived for in your shared space at all times. With the hectic nature of Joe’s job, it was nice to have this space together where the two of you could relax and unwind after a long day.

Joe pulled you out of your thoughts and back into the moment as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you. A small smile played on your lips at how perfect this man was, knowing he would do anything to make you feel loved.

“What’s on your mind?” Joe asked and he peppered a few light kisses along your neck, pulling you closer to his chest. You felt a soft blush rise to your cheeks before you spoke.

“I was just thinking back to our first date and how far we’ve come since then” you side, turning to face him while remaining in his arms.

“I want to start a new tradition, something small that makes today a little more special” you said, reaching up on your tiptoes to place a kiss to his forehead, a smile gracing his lips as you pulled away back down to your usual height. You watched him stand up a tad straighter, signalling that he bent down to help you reach.

“And what would you like that to be, sweetheart?” Joe asked, his eyes looking into yours with such a sense of adoration.

“I think we do a present early, just one. Something that’s a bit more intimate instead of opening everything at once with everyone else watching. We can save the rest for when family is here, but I feel like it would be nice to start something new in our place together” you said, hoping Joe would agree to your request. You kissed his cheek while he thought for a moment.

He placed a kiss to your lips in return before speaking, “I think that’s a great idea and I already just the one I want to give you early” Joe said with a hint of something in his tone that made you pull away to look at him. It was one you knew all too well, bracing for whatever Joe had in store for you. You knew he had a tendency to go elaborate at times for those he loved, you would just have to wait and see.

The two of you were sitting together on the couch, the dim lighting from the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over the room. The fire crackled softly in the background, adding to the atmosphere of calm. Joe, as usual, had that laid-back smile on his face. You could see his eyes twinkling with mischief, even as he pulled out the gift he’d gotten for you from under the tree beside him.

“So, one gift,” he said, leaning back into the couch, his arm around me. “You sure you’re not going to sneak a peek at the others under the tree?”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him. “I’ll be good. I promise. But only one gift means you have to make this count, Burrow.”

Joe chuckled, looking down at me with his usual easy smile. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure I nailed it.”

You smiled back, thinking the same thing. “Same here,” you said. “This is going to be the perfect gift, you’ll see.” You went under the tree and had yours placed next to you on the coffee table, wrapped and finished with a bow, the label read:

To: My MVP

From: Your favorite cheerleader

You thought the sentiment was cute with a hint of flirting, bringing up the thoughts of past intimate exchanges between the two of you. Joe seemed to be thinking the same as he read the label himself when you placed the present in his hand. He raised his eyebrows at you with a knowing smirk, only giving back a wink in return. The two gifts seemed to be about the same size which eased your nerves slightly. Joe handed you his gift, noting the look of uncontainable excitement in his features. You were proud of his wrapping job, his skills improving over the years as each christmas and birthday had passed. His tag to you read:

To: My princess

From: Your knight in jersey armor

You laughed lightly as you read his, Joe’s humor on full display even as soft and sweet as this moment was. You looked up at him as your laughter died down, Joe gestured for you to finally open the gift. You nodded and began to tear through the red and white paper. As you pulled more off, you revealed the classic red and white logo you both know and love. Inside was a custom Lego set, and as soon as you saw it, you gasped. It was a Lego replica of the small café where you and Joe had your first date five years ago — the cozy little spot tucked on a quiet street corner. The tiny Lego pieces meticulously captured every detail: the brick exterior, the little round tables with chairs, the glowing lights in the windows. There was even a tiny version of the street sign out front accompanied by tinier versions of the two of you.

“No way,” you breathed, holding it up in awe. “Joe, this is… this is amazing. How did you even think of this?”

Joe smiled proudly, his eyes lighting up. “Well, I know you love building things, and you always talk about that cafe where we had our first date,” he teased lightly, knowing how much you always beg to go back with the food being amazing. “I thought it would be something fun we could do together.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the set in your hands. That night — your first date — had felt like a dream. You’d been so awkward, but somehow, you’d clicked together like puzzle pieces that had been lost and finally found. And now, five years later, here you were, still together, looking back at that moment with a sense of nostalgia and affection. You took in the box, a few small tears welling in your eyes at how thoughtful the gift was and a smile fell across your lips while Joe wiped your tears away, stroking your cheek with the biggest grin on his face.

“I couldn't wait to give that to you so I’m so glad you said about opening something early. I felt like I was gonna give it up any second "Joe rushed out, finishing with a sigh of relief.

“You’re incredible,” you said softly, setting the Lego set down beside me and turning to him. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

Joe shrugged casually, though there was a softness in his eyes. “I remember everything about that night. You had that nervous laugh, and I think you spilled your drink at one point, but it was perfect. Just like this.”

You leaned over to kiss him, grateful for the thoughtfulness he always put into everything, especially when it came to us. When you pulled back, you noticed his eyes flicker down to the gift you had for him — the one sitting on the coffee table.

“Oh right, your turn,” you said, giggling as you picked the box up off of the table.

You passed it over to him — looking quite similar, though wrapped in silver paper this time. Joe didn’t waste any time, tearing it open in his usual fashion. You laughed as he was the complete opposite of you when it came to unwrapping gifts, his usual high level of patience was out the window and nowhere to be found. When he saw what was inside, his eyes widened slightly.

“You didn’t,” he said, already guessing where this was going as he tore through to find the same logo plastered in the corner of the box. Joe burst out laughing, his deep chuckles filling the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said between laughs. “We bought each other the same thing?”

You softly chuckled while wiping your few stray tears away, “Oh, I did. Go ahead, open it.” You couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of it making everything feel even more perfect. “How is that even possible?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. “We literally thought of the exact same gift?”

Joe tore off the wrapping with a sense of both amusement and disbelief. And sure enough, as the paper fell away, there it was. A custom Lego set — the exact same one he’d just given you. The exact same design, the exact same tiny figures of you and him in the outfits you wore (as close as they could be in Lego style).

Joe shook his head, still laughing. “I swear, I was so sure I was being original! I even went through all this trouble to make sure it was one-of-a-kind!”

“I guess we’re just *that* in sync,” you teased, holding up the Lego set like a trophy. “Maybe we’ve been together too long.”

“Definitely not long enough for me, that’s for sure” Joe grinned, his voice full of affection. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we both have great taste. Maybe we should’ve just gone shopping together,” Joe joked, voice still sincere. “But hey, we both nailed it.” he said while still processing the absurdity of it all.

It was funny how we could end up with the same exact gift, but in that moment, you realized that it wasn’t about the present itself. It was about the thought behind it — how we both valued memories and the little moments we shared. That first night was just as important to you as it was to him.

“I guess we both really wanted to remember this time,” you said, looking at him with a smile, “and now we’ll remember our first Christmas Eve here together. It’ll be known as the night we both had the best present ever”

Joe nodded, his eyes softening as he reached for my hand as he spoke, “yeah, and every Christmas after this one. Asking you to be mine was still the best decision I ever made and now we’ll have it as a physical memory…twice” he finished with a laugh, making you laugh too.

“Okay,” you said, still chuckling as you nudged him shoulder to shoulder. “We should probably build these together, right? A Lego night like old times?”

Joe raised an eyebrow, clearly up for the challenge. “I’m game. But if you mess up my mini-figure’s hair, I’m going to have to throw down.” tackling you into the cushion behind you as he maneuvered his hands to tickle you.

Joe sent you into a fit of laughter and joking screams, begging him to free you with a promise you’d be good. He finally let up, air filling back into your lungs at a normal rate. You pulled him down by the neck into a kiss, “If you do that again, Joseph, I’ll lose your minifigures hair on purpose”.

Joe acted fake appalled by your statement, “alright, a deal’s a deal. Let’s have a truce and enjoy the rest of the night. I don’t want to worry about a bald miniature of me on Christmas” he joked as the two of you snuggled up for the rest of the night. Looking at the identical gifts on the coffee table, you knew that you were building the life you always wished for with the man of your dreams, one tiny brick at a time.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #nfl #boyfriend joe burrow #girlfriend reader #Joe burrow christmas #burrowdarling requests #asks open #send anons #burrowdarling asks #joey b #joe shiesty #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fan fic #joeyb

223 notes · View notes

shrimpybbq · 2 days ago

Note

how would rafe deal with charlies tantrums? cause i feel like he’s at an age where thats common 😭 and reader taking care of emmy cant really do both at the same time

"Hey, c'mon bud,"

"You're ok, I'll give it back in a sec, a'ight?"

"It's ok, just stop crying please Charlie, please buddy,"

As high school gf!reader walked into the kitchen, those were the words echoing off the walls, intermingled with the shrill screams of Charlie. She had been out for lunch with Sarah, only to come home and hear Rafe's exclamations. Charlie's piercing cries made her cringe as the little boy wailed so hard his face begun to redden. He had been playing with Rafe's phone and watching his favourite cartoon, only for Rafe to need to make a call quickly. Alas, he had not been able to make that call as his son began to cry as soon as the phone left his chubby little hands.

Rafe looked up as he heard his wife enter the room, seeing her holding Emmy in her arms. His eyes rolled at the sight of the smile breaking across her face, unable to hide the humour she found in watching Rafe be on the receiving end of the boy's tantrums for once. Charlie was a daddy's boy - never crying or throwing tantrums, always seeking to spend time with his father. It didn't help that he was a carbon copy of his Rafe as a toddler either. She found some joy in her husband finally understanding what it was like to deal with a crying toddler.

"Hey! Stop laughing at me, m'kay. Can't you just make him stop crying or something?" Rafe pleaded as Charlie began to cry louder, his panic seeping over. High school gf!reader sighed, taking pity on her husband.

"You need to give him something else to distract him. That or put him in front of the tv," she stated. Rafe watched as she moved towards him, coming to his side, "Go pick him up and sit with him for a bit. He'll calm down pretty quick."

She watched as Rafe and Charlie made their way over to the couch, the boy's favourite cartoon filling the screen once more. Rafe was mumbling lowly to Charlie as he buried his face into his father's chest, and high school gf!reader could only smile at the sound of his squeals once more, though this time they were clearly happy and joyous. Rafe had resorted to tickling the boy when he wouldn't look at him.

"Are you gonna be good for me now buddy? No more tantrums?" Rafe queried, a pleased smile spreading across his face as Charlie nodded. Of course he was going to be good, he was a daddy's boy.

"Ugh, you make it look so easy. I hate you," she whined at the sight.

Again, Rafe rolled his eyes. "Hey, c'mere. Come sit with us," he commanded. "Should mommy come sit with us?" he directed at Charlie this time.

High school gf!reader felt herself nodding in agreement and slowly ambled over to the couch. As she settled into the plush fabric Charlie turned to face her, eagerly reaching out to his sister.

"She's still tired, baby. Why don't we watch your show and then after you can play?" she suggested, bringing her son under her arm. Wrapped up in her warm embrace he agreed, a small "ok mama" leaving him.

Rafe just grinned at his little family, sighing and tossing his head back as he slumped further into the couch. Charlie had tired him out, and he had only been watching him for a few hours. He needed to get his wife a gift soon as something to say thank you, he thought determinedly. To show her how much he appreciated her and how much she had invested into their family.

i've been missing high school gf so i managed to answer one of the asks in my inbox finally! hope you enjoy this cute family moment anon!

170 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 20 hours ago

Text

time off — t.w.

pairing -> sick toto x reader

word count -> 1.1k

warnings -> toto is sick, lots of hurt + comfort, slight cursing, mostly fluffy stuff

a/n -> i am finally working through fics that are lined up in the garage. i believe this one was a request from an anon! i hope you guys enjoy! <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the blaring of an alarm pulls you from your slumber.

stirring, you wrinkle your nose, fighting a yawn. there's a swath of comforter to your left, the fabric rising and falling. carefully, you nudge the bundle, your voice thick with exhaustion.

"toto, it's time to get up love."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

there's a groan that rises from the comforter, the figure rolling over. he wraps an arm around your frame, bringing you in close.

"f-five more minutes."

you can't help but notice that his voice is deeper. significantly deeper. there's a bit of a rasp to it, almost as if it pained him to speak. he nuzzles his head into your shoulder, coughing ever so slightly.

arching your brow, you purse your lips. this sort of behavior in the morning was unlike toto. he was a man who structured his mornings around a strict routine. each day, without fail, he woke up to his alarm, getting out of bed with ease. typically, you were the one who struggled to get up, as he had to lure you with breakfast.

shifting your body, you turn over, a tender hand connecting with his cheek. almost instantly, you feel the heat radiating off his skin.

"are you feeling okay?"

an eye opens, forming a slit. he exhales, shaking his head, "i'm fine. just want a few more minutes of sleep. that's all."

"are you sure?" your brow furrows, "you feel warm."

letting out a grunt, toto snuggles closer to you, sniffling, "i was just underneath the covers."

almost instantly, it clicked.

he wasn't feeling well. he must have came down with something. after all, it was the start of winter. everyone was spreading around a menagerie of illnesses and viruses. it was just customary with the change of the seasons. due to the nature of his work, he came into close contact with dozens upon dozens of individuals nearly every day.

it could have been anyone who was sick, but he was around them long enough to contract something. what it was, you weren't quite sure. hopefully it wasn't anything too serious.

pressing kiss to his temple, you engulf him in your arms, resting your chin on top of his head. you can feel a smile form against your chest, the team principal murmuring words you can't quite decipher. there were more than likely in german, his native tongue.

"you probably need to get going soon," you murmur, grateful for the coziness of the morning cuddles, "don't you have a presentation to look over?

"mmm," he hums, "probably."

"so why aren't you up yet?"

"not feeling well," he grumbles, "i think one of the interns gave me something."

"those damn interns," a giggle bubbles up in your throat, "what are you going to do with 'em?"

"send a letter to their university filing a complaint," a hoarse chuckle flows from his lips, "i should really get up, though. i do need to look over that presentation."

"maybe you should take the day off," your hand delves into his hair, playing with the soft brunette locks, "you should really get some more rest. i could make you some tea and some soup later on, if you're feeling up to it."

"you make it so damn difficult to leave," he counters, squeezing you in his embrace, "i just can't stay away from that pretty face."

"then why haven't you called in yet?"

"you know why i haven't."

reaching over to the nightstand, you pick up his phone, "i could always do it for you."

raising his head, toto tilts his chin upward, his gaze twinkling with amusement, "i would pay good money to watch that. why don't you go on then, love. call in for me?"

"i will," the words are barely a whisper, "you know i would do anything for you, right?"

licking his lips, the team principal readjusts, scooting up so that your faces were eye-level. he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in even further.

you would more than likely get sick as well, but that was a risk you were more than willing to take.

especially when he was so fucking irresistible, admiring you with those beautiful mocha depths. his lashes flutter as your lips collide with his, a rumble brewing in his chest as your tongue trails along his lower lip.

"c-careful schatzi, i don't want to infect you."

"you can do more than infect me," fingers tug at his roots, "infect me, kiss me, fuck-"

"maybe i do need to take that time off then," his tone is brimmed with lust, and you can't help but feel a firmness pressing against your inner thigh.

"go ahead baby," you cock your head, batting your lashes, "call in. for me."

before you know it, he's out of the bed and on his feet, pecking your forehead, "i'll be right back. give me five minutes, love."

as he strolls out, pressing his phone to your ear, you wait until you hear the steps dissipate. cautiously, you slink out of the space, tiptoeing down the stairs.

your poor, pathetic man.

all riled up over a few kisses.

toto wolff taps his screen, relief rippling as he makes his way back toward the room. he was able to successfully call in, just take a day off and fight whatever illness this was. he could stay with his love, all cuddled up and drunk off bliss.

however, when he pokes his head into the bedroom, his heart skips a beat.

you weren’t there.

yet, a scent wafts into his nostrils. one that he knew all too well.

the aroma of tea. and something else he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

as toto clambers down the stairs, he makes a right, entering the kitchen. once his eyes fall on you, his knees buckle.

you’re at the stove, brow knit with concentration as you flip something in a skillet. there’s a cup of tea waiting for him at the island, steam billowing from the mug. padding over to you, he peers over your shoulder, curious to see what was in the skillet.

“oh hi,” you flinch at first, yet relax as his arms wrap around your waist, “i figured i’d make you a nice breakfast so that you could take some medication.”

so that’s what you were up to.

the team principal presses a swift peck to your temple, “thank you, schatzi. i adore you.”

“of course! i love you.”

“and i love you,” toto’s breath is warm as it fans against your earlobe, the words thready with need as he continues.

“we’re going to make this day off worthwhile. okay schatzi? once we’re finished here, you’re mine.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff imagine

138 notes · View notes

jenosbliss · 2 days ago

Note

Hellooo!! Can I request a fic where the mc is being cheated on by another member and when she finds out she turns into a mess (the sad one, not the one that parties and things like that) until she randomly meets jisung (like at the park or the convenience store) and she starts to heal with his help and they end up in a relationship

— he healed something he didn’t break

pairing. fem!reader x jisung (ft. sion) | genre. angst, fluff | wc. 1.3k | warnings. mentions of infidelity and depression

a/n:: hey anon! i loved your request, the way you asked for the reader’s emotional state… i relate to it sm. and i hope sion as your ex is okay? bcs i just can’t imagine any dreamie there :(

It didn’t break you all at once.

When you discovered the truth about Sion—his betrayal, the lies he so effortlessly told—it felt more like a slow unraveling than a sudden crash. At first, there was disbelief. You stared at the picture on your phone, the image of him with someone else, their bodies too close, their smiles too intimate. You’d convinced yourself there had to be an explanation.

But when you confronted him, the betrayal solidified into something colder, sharper. His excuses were pathetic at best: “It’s not like we were serious-serious.” “You’re overreacting.” “Maybe we weren’t working out anyway.”

His words played on repeat in your head, each one a hammer blow to your self-worth.

We weren’t working out anyway? He hadn’t even given you the chance to know there was a problem. You’d been investing your time, your energy, your love—only to find that he’d been giving his to someone else.

In the days that followed, you fell into a dark haze of heartbreak. The lively, hopeful version of you seemed to vanish. You stopped answering calls from friends, retreating into your small apartment, leaving texts unread and the world outside your door ignored.

Self-doubt crept in like an unwanted guest, whispering cruel questions. Was I not enough? Was it something I did? Did I deserve this? Every memory you’d shared with Sion felt tainted, every happy moment now twisted into something painful.

You barely ate. Barely slept. Your reflection in the mirror became unfamiliar—eyes dull, shoulders slumped, the energy you once carried replaced by a weariness you couldn’t shake.

The convenience store was your only escape.

You went there late at night when the world was quiet, hoping to avoid seeing anyone who might recognize you. The bright, sterile lights and rows of snacks were strangely comforting in their mundanity.

It was during one of those visits that you met him.

You were staring blankly at a shelf of instant noodles when someone accidentally bumped into you. The impact knocked a pack from your hand, and you barely had the energy to bend down and pick it up.

“Oh—sorry!”

The voice was warm and apologetic, and when you turned, you were met with a pair of wide, kind eyes. A boyish-looking guy crouched to retrieve the noodles, holding them out to you with a sheepish smile.

“Didn’t see you there,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze as you took the packet.

The question caught you off guard, your lips parting in surprise. “What?”

“You just… look like you’re having a rough day,” he said, his voice soft but earnest. “Sorry, that was probably rude.”

You shook your head, hugging your arms around yourself. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… tired.”

He nodded, seemingly unsure whether to say more. “Well, uh… I hope it gets better,” he said finally, offering you a small, sincere smile before stepping past you.

You watched as he stepped past you, his presence lingering even after he disappeared down another aisle. For the first time in weeks, something stirred inside you—an unfamiliar warmth cutting through the numbness.

You didn’t expect to see him again.

But a few nights later, there he was, standing by the freezer section, holding two tubs of ice cream and looking impossibly indecisive.

“Hey,” he said when he noticed you, his face lighting up. “Noodles, right?”

“What?”

“Last time,” he said, grinning. “You were holding noodles. I’m terrible with names, so I gave you one based on context.”

You couldn’t help but laugh—a small, involuntary sound that felt foreign after weeks of silence. “That’s a terrible nickname.”

“Better than nothing,” he teased, setting one of the ice cream tubs back on the shelf. “I’m Jisung, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied, the weight in your chest lifting slightly.

“Nice to officially meet you, Y/N,” he said, offering a lopsided smile.

The convenience store became your accidental meeting place.

You’d run into Jisung every few nights, sometimes exchanging quick hellos, other times lingering to chat about nothing in particular. He had a way of making the world feel lighter, like the heaviness that followed you around could be momentarily lifted by his presence.

He never pushed, never asked more than you were willing to share. Instead, he filled the silence with stories—about his quirky neighbors, his obsession with trying every snack in the store, the stray cat that sometimes followed him home.

Slowly, you found yourself opening up.

One night, as the two of you stood by the drinks cooler, you broke the silence with a quiet confession. “I don’t understand why people cheat.”

Jisung turned to you, his expression softening.

“If they fall out of love,” you continued, your voice trembling, “why can’t they just… say it? Why fake it? Why pretend to care?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze steady and thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he said finally, his voice gentle. “But it’s not your fault. Some people don’t know how to value what they have. That doesn’t mean you deserved it.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, soothing a wound you hadn’t realized was still raw.

As weeks turned into months, your conversations with Jisung grew longer. You started texting, too—random memes, late-night snack recommendations, and the occasional check-in when he hadn’t seen you at the store.

With him, you felt safe. He never treated you like you were broken, never made you feel like you had to rush to “move on.” Instead, he showed you that healing wasn’t linear—it was messy and slow, but it didn’t have to be lonely.

He was patient, warm, and consistent in a way that felt like a balm to your battered heart.

One evening, the two of you sat on a bench in the park, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Jisung was telling a story about a stray dog that had followed him home, his hands animated as he described the encounter.

“You’re smiling,” he said suddenly, his voice tinged with surprise. “What?”

“You’re smiling,” he repeated, his lips curving into a soft grin. “It’s nice. I’ve missed seeing that.”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away, but his words stayed with you, a warmth blooming in your chest.

It wasn’t until another late-night walk that everything changed.

The two of you were strolling through your neighborhood, the quiet hum of crickets filling the space between your words. You’d been talking about your plans for the future, your voice lighter than it had been in months.

Jisung stopped suddenly, his gaze turning serious. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You turned to face him, your brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean it,” he said, stepping closer. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here. Still strong. Still kind. And…” He hesitated, his voice softening. “You make me want to be better, just by being you.”

Your breath caught, your heart racing as his words hung in the air. “Jisung…”

“I know this might be too soon,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly. “But if there’s even a chance you might feel the same way—”

You didn’t let him finish. Closing the distance between you, you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. “I feel the same.”

Relief flooded his expression as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you like they’d been meant to hold you all along.

You realized that piece by piece, Jisung had helped you put yourself back together. And for the first time in a long time, you felt whole again.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

#nct dream #jisung #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung imagines #jisung fluff #park jisung #nct #nct fluff #nct angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jisung scenarios #sion #nct jisung #breakup #hurt/comfort

101 notes · View notes

faithsotherhouseofchaos · 2 days ago

Note

Hey, I was anon on the old blog so I’m really excited to find you again and I hope this one is better environment for you ❤️❤️

Since you’re doing autistic reader could you do one with an autistic Räikkönen reader dating a Leclerc, maybe Kimi is suspicious of Arthur/Charles because she’s had some bad experiences before

Also for future reference do you write for Dennis Hauger?

thank you ❤️

Do you trust him|| Arthur Leclerc x Raikkonen!Autistic!reader

Word count —449

A/n I don’t know much about Dennis Hauger to write for him but if someone were to give me a rundown about him I could try

Trust has always been a fragile thing for you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to open up to people—it was just that past experiences, particularly with an ex-boyfriend, had left you wary. You preferred your routines, your safe spaces, and most of all, the unwavering presence of your older brother, Kimi Räikkönen.

Kimi has always been your shield against the chaos of the world. So when Arthur Leclerc came into your life, with his bright laugh and unyielding patience, you knew it was only a matter of time before Kimi would scrutinize him under his icy, protective gaze.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon when Kimi finally brought it up. You were sitting across from him at the kitchen table, absentmindedly sorting through puzzle pieces while he sipped his coffee.

“This Arthur,” Kimi said suddenly, his tone as neutral as always. “You trust him?”

You looked up, startled by the question but not entirely surprised. “I do,” you said softly, your fingers stilling on the puzzle piece you were holding.

Kimi narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning back in his chair. “Why?”

“He… he listens,” you replied, trying to articulate what you felt. “He doesn’t rush me or get annoyed when I need time to myself. He’s patient, Kimi. And he never makes me feel… wrong for the way I am.”

Kimi didn’t say anything for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you in that unreadable way of his. Finally, he gave a small nod. “If he ever hurts you—”

“He won’t,” you interrupted, though your voice was soft. “But I know. You’ll take care of it.”

Kimi smirked faintly. “Of course.”

When Arthur arrived later that evening to take you out for dinner, Kimi was waiting in the doorway like a silent sentry. You sighed, tugging at your sleeve as Arthur stepped forward with his usual easy smile, though there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

“Good evening, Mr. Räikkönen,” Arthur greeted, his voice polite but steady.

Kimi gave him a long, piercing look before speaking. “Take care of her. That’s all I’m asking.”

Arthur nodded without hesitation. “I will. I care about her more than anything.”

For a moment, it was silent, the weight of Kimi’s scrutiny palpable. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, Kimi stepped aside, letting Arthur through.

As you grabbed your coat, Arthur leaned closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Your brother is terrifying, by the way.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest easing. “He just wants to make sure you’re good for me.”

Arthur’s hand brushed yours as you headed out the door. “I’ll prove it to him. I promise.”

#arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc x female reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc fluff #faiths inbox #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x autistic!reader

100 notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 5 hours ago

Note

Hiii, I have read all your work and it is very good :D!! I've read it several times and never get bored.

Can I ask about something? I'm curious about the characteristics or signs of yandere appearing in Tim. Will he be the last family member to become a yandere? Sorry I asked like this because I feel like he's not getting enough attention in drabbles, questions from other readers, or anything else. So I'm curious.

I hope you understand my question. Because English is not my first language.

— masterlist !

don't mind me using the tags here, i want to clarify a lot of things.

hi anon!! don't worry about your english, i understand perfectly and it's also not my first language too hehe. and to all the others who have asked about tim's (or any other characters') appearance in the series: fear not, nobody is getting ignored at all, i intend for everyone to have their designated events/moments that trigger yandere characteristics for the reader for each chapter. it's my plan to make them each as unique as possible with their intentions, motives and goals, not just them being simply "obsessed" with you, so i'm trying my best to add depth to the story.

that means the entire series will stretch out quite a lot (i already have outlined multiple arcs, flashbacks, and all the characters' individual traits and significance). it's not just going to be ten chapters, i want to remind others that there's more lore to just the neglect, your mother's dark past, and characters that haven't even been introduced to the plot yet, so if you guys prefer one-shots or something shorter, then the series is not for you folks, sorry 😭

as for tim, he is quite literally my favorite character (surprise!), so of course he's going to get special treatment. he's not going to be the last to become yandere, but his spiral to becoming a yandere takes quite a lot of time since compared to others, it's him who spends the least amount of moments with you. even in the non-neglected au i wrote, what triggered his obsession was mere curiousity.

though just because there're lesser events with him, doesn't mean there will be none. he certainly plays a major role in the "wild goose chase arc where the family tries to negotiate (kidnap) you whilst you try to escape to multiple cities/end up in a completely different country". he may not express his love for the reader well, but he most definitely knows the most about you.

oh! and the traits that he does have as a yandere looks tame when you compare it to others, but it's also because it manifests through his personal dialogue (as i reckon he's keeps most of his thoughts about you to himself most of the time (gatekeeper archetype) and he's the character with the most internal dialogue/thoughts too). he's the worst stalker you could have, the one who you should look out for the most with just how much he knows about you in such a short period of time. tim's intelligence and detective skills knows no bounds, and he won't stop exhausting himself until the very knowledge of what the blood pumping under your skin feels like and the exact temperature of your body— is extracted and stored into the terabytes of data he has into his personal batcave.

and spoiler alert: he's also the one who uncovers your mother's past and alongside bruce, what had happened between the period of time when you were dragged out of the closet and the other time in elementary when you were nearly kidnapped, which completely leads to another arc wherein it's where their obsession drives off to a completely different plane of existence, exalting vengeance on the people who tormented you; but tim's pettiness is just on a whole nother level.

and i have to stop here before i (excitedly) spoil the entire series' plot LMAO. my answer to this is a bit more casual to the other asks, so i hope it doesn't irritate anyone.

so thank you for asking this! i also have a question for you people too:

how is the current progression of the plot? i get that it isn't even 10% finished and some moments feel slow, but i try to be as immersive as possible to the readers. so for those who have read the entire thing, what do you want me to possibly add, or does anyone have other clarifications? can anyone tolerate a fanfic that can possibly lead to more than 250k words??? 😭

103 notes · View notes

pacifymebby · 2 days ago

Note

hello! Long time reader first time ask.

perhaps a peaky blinder boys x reader whose love language is bitting?

-🧛‍♀️ anon

(If emoji anons are allowed of course❤️)

Hello I absolutely love this because biting is definitely one of my love languages haha

Warnings: lots of fluff in this but it does get NSFW in places, mentions of blood in Arthurs.

Tommy

🌿 Is not at all surprised when you bite him for the first time, he's so sharp an observer of people and their habits that before you were even particularly close he had been able to tell you were a "biter"

🌿 And he couldn't help but feel a little more drawn to you for it... He would find himself watching you, your smile, the way you bite your lip or your thumb when you're concentrating, the way you're so often biting your thumb or finger when he catches you looking at him...

🌿 And he's measuring his worth based on how long it takes for you to finally drop your guard and sink your teeth into his shoulder or neck when you're cuddled against him...

🌿 The man is quietly tortured waiting for it to happen because he knows that it's your love language, he just Knows it, and he needs you to do it to him so that he knows you really love him... The man is desperate...

🌿 He gets a little bit hopeful every time you nuzzle into him... Every time you kiss his shoulder or his hand when he's cupping your cheek...

🌿 In fact he gives you every opportunity to, always guiding your head to the crook of his neck when you're hugging, always letting his fingers and thumbs stray a little close to your mouth... Inviting you to sink your teeth into him...

🌿 But you know what Tommy is like, he'll never out and out ask you, he wants you to do it without thinking, so instinctively...so he knows it's real... If he asks you he'll never quite be sure that you're doing it because you love him,or because the trust is there, he'll always be left wondering whether you're simply obliging his request...

🌿 So he has to be patient, and contrary to common belief Tommy is sometimes capable of patience... Especially when it comes to things like this, slow, careful things. Slowly, delicately chipping away at your composure, your self conscious outer shell that stops you reacting instinctively to his affections... For a long time he can tell you're holding back...

🌿 And then when it finally happens he's surprised, because you drop your guard seemingly out of nowhere, coming up behind him at the foot of the bed one morning when he's trying to fix the cuffs on his unbuttoned shirt. Your arms wrap around his waist and you stand on your tiptoes nuzzling into his neck... You catch yourself by surprise too, thinking you're only going to give him a little goodbye kiss...

🌿 But instead your first shy kiss skims his jaw only to be followed by another, this one pressed to the vein in his neck. And then you smile, a toothy smile into his shoulder and his heartbeat begins to pick up as he realises what's about to happen.

🌿 your teeth hover over his neck, he can feel the warmth of your breath as you think about it, almost getting shy... And then you graze your teeth over his skin, such a hesitant gentle drag... He wonders if perhaps you're going to shy away even now, his breath caught in his throat.

🌿 And then when you sink your teeth into him, your delicate bite sends a wash of relief through his body, warmth radiating through him from the delicate spot on his neck where you hold a little bit of him between your teeth.

🌿 "That's an interesting way of saying good morning angel..." He teases you as he turns around to kiss you. You're blushing and he realises then that you might take his teasing to be a scolding... That you might never bite him like that again. So he quickly adds, "not a complaint..."

🌿 He seriously loves it! The first time you bite him like that his heart soars... It's a silly thing to be quite so obsessed with and he knows it, but he finally feels secure in your affections when you do this, sees this as you finally trusting him enough to reveal yourself to him... He's not wrong either, it takes a little time for you to feel comfortable enough to want to sink your teeth into someone and you certainly don't waste your affection on just anyone... It takes a specific kind of nurture to make you feel comfortable enough to bite like that, and so when you do, and can see Tommy likes it, is happy for you to nibble on his shoulder like that, well your heart soars too. You get this toothy grin on your face and giggle and then immediately go to do it again.

🌿 From then on you bite more and more regularly, mostly just soft little nips when you want more attention than he's giving you... When he's sitting in his armchair with you in his lap, more focussed on the book he's reading than you... When you're out walking and you want to stop and be kissed at the side of the path... When you're first waking up in the morning and you're all sleepy and bursting with affection for him...

🌿 He loves how you nibble on his bottom lip when you're kissing, how you'll nuzzle into his neck peppering kisses over his skin and then graze your teeth along his pulse before drawing a little of him into your mouth... He loves the possessive nature of your bites, likes to feel as though you're laying some kind of claim on him.

🌿 He doesn't bite you back however because he's scared of hurting or marking you like that, he doesn't want to bruise you and he gets such a possessive urge inside him when he's with you that he's sure he would lose control and bite you too hard... He also likes that it's your little quirk, something you alone do to him alone. He has his own way of showing you affection and sees your biting as girlish and sweet. Not something he'd mirror.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie loves your little vampiric habit, he just loves it...

🐻 He sees you as being so innocent and soft so sweet and pure, and your biting is very much something which goes along with that... It's one of those "childish" little things you never grew out of and he thinks it's adorable.

🐻 He notices the way you chew anything you can, your sleeves your pencils, your fingers... He can't help but stare, watching as you pause your writing and sink your teeth into the tip of your pencil chewing in it thoughtfully... he can't help it if his mind wanders, if he starts wondering what it would be like to give you his fingers to nibble on instead...

🐻 He teases you about it too, will tell you "come sink those little teeth into papa instead ziskeit..." The first time he says it you think he's joking, you look up at him from where you're sitting and smirk, expecting him to smirk too, but when he doesn't and instead beckons you over once again you can't resist. You're a little shy about it, sitting in his lap and then hesitating, not actually sure what to do now he's watching you... But then he caresses your cheek gently and offers you his fingers, he can't take his eyes off you as you gently sink your teeth into his finger tips...

🐻 He'll definitely call you things like "my little vampire..." And tease you when you bite his neck, just wanting to make you blush because again, he finds this little habit of yours completely adorable...

🐻 Alfie knows this behaviour is a comfort thing, that it's all about your trust in him, how comfortable and safe you feel with him and so whenever he feels your teeth sink into him he feels so proud... Proud that you're his little ziskeit, proud that you trust him, that you feel safe enough to be yourself with him completely...

🐻 He loves the way you use biting to initiate further affection, how you come up behind him and stand on your tiptoes sinking your teeth into his back or his shoulder, how when he pulls you in for a hug more often than not you'll gently nip his bicep or shoulder and then look up at him with your big doe eyes silently asking for more...

🐻 He loves when you bite his hands, in particular that place where his thumb meets his palm and curves to his wrist... He likes it when you bite his wrist too actually. Alfie just loves it when you nip at him, he finds your playfully affectionate nature completely adorable.

🐻 You rarely bite him with any level of force but sometimes, if you sink your teeth in a little too deep he'll gently scold you, "now what did I do to deserve that little one?" He'll put on a show of frowning, being wounded and when you say you're sorry, that you didn't mean it he'll soften and welcome you into his embrace, "I know little one, course you didn't ziskeit... But you just be careful with your old man yeah, wouldn't want anyone thinking I was being savaged by my little girl would we..." Of course he's only teasing and when you pout up at him he just smiles and offers you one of his fingers to nibble on, "Nah what am I saying ziskeit, you can savage me whenever you like..."

🐻 Now obviously Alfie likes to keep you away from his real enemies but when it comes to men like Tommy Shelby who are always poking around, turning up without an appointment and barging into his office demanding a word... Well, let's just say you're a cheeky little madam sometimes and you won't hesitate to make some catty little remark upon being disturbed by him... And Alfie loves that about you, he particularly enjoys being able to say "careful Tommy, this one bites..."

🐻 The day you offer him your fingers to bite warms his heart. First of all he thinks you look so cute... Looking up at him with your wide warm eyes, stroking your fingers through his beard before holding them to his lips. Second of all, he knows it's a sign of deep trust, that you must really love and think the world of him to be pressing your hand to his mouth for him to bite. So he doesn't reject you, he smiles softly, tries so not show just how touched his is by teasing you all "Oh now, ain't that sweet..." Before very gently biting you, light enough not to leave a mark, kissing the place he sunk his teeth moments later...

🐻 He only bites you when you offer him your hand, and even then he's always very gentle as he doesn't want to hurt you... He wouldn't want to leave marks on you and he doesn't need to, "everyone already knows you belong to me..."

Arthur

🍂 Now Arthur definitely bites during sex, everyone knows that Arthur likes to have rough sex... there's fingernails and teeth involved for sure and no women's ever left Arthur's bed without the marks to prove it...

🍂 That doesn't however mean that he's ever considered being bitten himself... he'd always view biting as a dominant trait, a way of marking what is yours, a possessive trait, a way of staking your claim... so he doesn't realise how much he's going to like being bitten by you until you actually do it...

🍂 And the first time you do it he is so surprised... First of all, it was only an affection, gentle little bite, your teeth barely grazed him, and the mark faded so quickly, so his dramatic cry of "ow... What was that for?" Seemed a little over the top. And of course it was over the top, it didn't hurt him a bit, he was just stunned that his lass, who was hugging him and nuzzling into his neck moments ago, would sink her teeth into him so out of the blue... And not in the heat of the moment either...

🍂 But for all his melodrama Arthur really did love it... He just has to pretend he didn't because to be seen letting you nibble on his shoulder like that could make him look soft... So he kicks up a fuss whenever you do it or else tells you off for teasing him and threatens to teach you a lesson later...

🍂 But he does really, really like it. There is absolutely no denying how much he likes it... Every time you bite him affectionately he gets a tell tale blush on his cheeks which is adorable, but which you have to pretend not to notice because if you do that will be the end of that, he'll never let you nibble on his shoulder again...

🍂 Over time he grows more and more confident about your vampiric way of showing affection, he likes that his girl has got some bite about her, a little menacing touch despite your general sweetness. He thinks that actually it makes you pretty bad, revealing of a dark side you might have... and that only makes you all the more attractive to him...

🍂 Now, when you're fucking Arthur loves it when you bite down on him hard and sink your teeth right in... You've been known to draw blood on more than one occasion when things have gotten a little rougher, a little more intense than either of you could have predicted...

🍂 Arthur quite likes to mix pain and pleasure and he gets addicted to the sting of your sharp little nips, he will often command you not to hold back, to bite harder... if you catch him in just the right place at just the right moment you can tip him over the edge and cause him to cum from a bite to the shoulder or neck...

🍂 At first he's a little shy about the marks you leave on him, he's worried it might make him look weak, but then one day his brother makes a comment about how he ought to put a muzzle on his woman if she's "that wild" and actually Arthur thinks he quite likes that... the idea that everyone will know his girl is wild, that she can't be tamed...

🍂 So from then on he almost shows off the bite marks, he's proud of them and proud of his wild woman...

🍂 He has a scar on his hand left by you... Once when you were fucking, Arthur was really railing you, it was rough and intense and you were being very loud... So Arthur had used his hand to hush you, forcing the side of his hand into your open mouth and giving you very clear instructions, "fuckin bite down for me girl," hissed through his teeth as he thrust into you at a violent, rapid pace... And you couldn't disobey him...

🍂 So you bit down hard, squeezing your eyes shut as he fucked you against the wall until your whole body was limp... And when you were finished and you finally unclamped your teeth from his hand you were shocked, and a little horrified, to find that you'd really done a number on his hand... You actually feel guilty, rushing to try and clean the wound, apologising to Arthur over and over until he takes your face in one hand gently squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. "Now you listen to me love, don't you ever fookin apologise for that yeah, you did as you were told an that makes you a very fookin good girl don't it..."

🍂 The wound healed quickly, it wasn't as bad as it looked, and it left a very pretty little crescent moon scar the shape of your bite which Arthur is obsessed with, it's like wearing a little piece of you at all times, and it reminds him of that moment... Fucking you against the wall, listening to your muffled cries of pleasure, the sting of your bite... He replays the scene in his head whilst turning his palm up to admire the scar... He's so proud of it, and so pleased to have such a "fookin feral" woman.

John

🌼 Bites you first...

🌼 John is such a playful romantic, he's boisterous and a little clumsy with you sometimes and he's oh so childish and unafraid to show his affection however the notion takes him in the moment...

🌼 So of course biting is one of his love languages too... He's always telling you how cute you are, how he "could just eat you up..." And he does...

🌼 He likes biting the tip of your nose, pretending to bite your cheeks, he likes to nuzzle into your neck tickling you and biting gently until you're giggling and trying to fend him off... He'll go for your fingers and toes too, taking your hand and lifting it to his mouth, holding your ankles delicately, tickling your feet and then going to nibble your toes - the number of times you've almost kicked him in the face because of this...

🌼 So of course he loves the fact that you speak his language... He loves the fact that when you're giggling and play wrestling and he has you pinned to the floor you'll turn your head and try to bite his wrist...

🌼 You're able to have these soft moments of silent affection, on days when he's stressed, or troubled and you go to him quietly, wrap your arms around him from behind and nuzzle into his back. You gently bite his shoulder, just to let him know you're there, and when he turns around and welcomes you into his embrace he'll nuzzle into you, close his eyes and let you kiss his cheek before grazing your teeth along his jaw... And when he lifts his head and opens his eyes he'll tilt your chin up towards him and let his teeth graze the tip of your nose before kissing your cheek and squeezing you tight against him.

🌼 It's like this extra layer of closeness, this extra way with which you can know eachother and trust eachother intimately. It makes you feel instinctively close to one another like little lion cubs...

🌼 John also likes it when you bit him during sex... He likes to bite you too and has definitely left a fair few bruises and teeth marks on your neck, shoulders and breasts before... But you do the same to him, biting his shoulders and his chest, leaving bite marks on his neck too...

🌼 And John loves to show off these marks... Loves to brag about them and the fucks in which he earned them... If he's got a particularly good looking one he'll be pulling the shoulder of his shirt down to show off the mark to his friends... He gets scolded by Ada "Honestly John put it away! The lengths you'll go to to prove you're getting a lay... It's embarrassing really..." But he'll just laugh her off and immediately launch back into the tale of his "war wound"

🌼 He'll tease you about it too, he'll come home from the betting shop and tell you something like, "the lads were talking about you today... They reckon I should put you on a leash..." And then he'll grin and before you can get in a huff with him he'll have wrapped you up in his arms, playfully nipping at your face and your ear, already trying to talk you into bed...

🌼 Has definitely bitten you on the bottom on more than one occasion, he can't help it...

Bonnie

🍀Bonnie is definitely also a biter... not quite in the way that John is a biter... he too is very playfully affectionate sometimes but he's also much more careful and much more soft...

🍀 He bites you too, very tenderly, often a kiss on the lips will finish with a little nip to the end of your nose before he pushes your hair from your face and sends you on your way

🍀 When you're sad or he can tell that something's wrong he'll come sit down beside you in front of the campfire, the two of you just gazing at the flames quietly, and without a word he'll pick up your hand and raise your fingers to his lips, and he'll bite his teeth down gently on your finger tip, just once, catching your eye communicating silently with you that he's there, that he's all yours and you can tell him anything you need to...

🍀The difference here is that Bonnie learnt this behaviour from you... He's mirroring you, as an act of love and trust... He wants to be able to communicate his love for you in ways you'll understand and so when he realises that the little grazes of your teeth, the little nips to his shoulder or his hand, are all little gestures of affection, your way of asking for his attention or letting him know without words that you love him very dearly, he wants to reciprocate.

🍀 The first time you bit him he wasn't all that surprised...Even before you were together he could tell you were a biter, he'd seen the way you sucked on your gold cross necklace, saw the way you nibbled on your finger tips with you were nervous or concentrating on something. He also noticed that when you were sleepy you would chew on your sleeve or suck your thumb... Always in these moments when you lost your awareness of the outside world... When your inhibitions were lowered slightly...

🍀So he'd always secretly hoped you'd feel comfortable enough with him to let your guard down and show your affection with a little bite...

🍀And the day you finally did (not that it really took all that long because you felt comfortable around bonnie from day one) he's was pleased he actually blushed. The day you sunk your teeth into his shoulder whilst you were hugging him, it lit him up. You left a little smirk on his lips and a rosy hue to his usually pale cheeks...

🍀 He turned his head half way to look over at you, a little smirk on his lips as he said "Well hello to you too little dove... Lose your words this morning or something?" Only teasing you of course before he took your face in both his hands and nipped the tip of your nose gently with his teeth. That painted a big grin on your face, left you feeling so girlish and giggly.

🍀Bonnie absolutely loves it when you bite him, the two of you have lots of wordless forms of communication, often able to talk with only your eyes... But your little nips are his favourite.

🍀 You often bite when you want his attention and so often that's the sensation he wakes up to... You half asleep, resting on him, your teeth grazing his chest, shoulder of neck. He likes it when you scrape your teeth along his jaw...

🍀 Bonnie has only ever marked you once and it was an accident... As much as he wants everyone to know that you're his little lass he wouldn't want to damage your reputation by leaving you littered with bitemarks or lovebites... You'd only get called horrible names by the other girls in the camp and he'd also have to deal with the wrath of your father...

🍀 It isn't just that though, Bonnie is a very tender lad and he sees you as being his precious angel, he would never want to hurt you and so he saves all his aggression for the ring, all his gentleness all his softness reserved for you...

🍀 The time he did leave a mark on you he felt so guilty, he was so apologetic, keen to make sure you weren't hurt, kissing the little teeth marks he'd left on your shoulder.

Isaiah

🐁Isaiah definitely thinks that your affectionate biting is a cute little quirk, something that makes him smirk or chuckle to himself... He thinks it's a little funny and he's definitely never had a girl bite him like that before...

🐁 he also thinks that if it wasn't you, he wouldn't be letting anyone bite him so "cutesy" so softly... No, this is definitely something only you could ever get away with... Other girls would be told to behave...

🐁He can tell when you're going to do it, you get this impish little smile on your lips which he can't resist... Even if he thinks it's a strange habit he couldn't ever deny you, not when you look so cheeky and so sweet... So instead he'll hold his hand up to stop you, say something like "now hang on a minute love what are you about to do?" "Them teeth again eh? You're lucky I'm so soft on you ain't ye sweetheart..."

🐁 He'll actually make you say please!! Which of course you do, very sweetly, so sweetly that he couldn't possibly say no to you... And when you have given him a little nip, your teeth sinking gently into his shoulder, he makes sure that you never forget to say thank you. If you do he'll stop you, catch your wrist so you can't walk away and then he'll raise his brow, challenging you, "I'm waiting love..."

🐁He doesn't bite you back, not softly anyway, and not as a way of showing affection... Sexually however Isaiah definitely bites... He likes his sex kinda rough and he definitely enjoys leaving little marks on you to show the world that you're taken...

🐁He's never too rough with you, he wouldn't ever bite so deep that he broke the skin, but he's certainly left little teeth marks on your neck and definitely enjoys scattering your collar bones with bites too. Sometimes he will push your shirt to one side in the middle of the day, just so he can admire the marks he left the night before and trace his fingers over the dents in your skin.

🐁He won't let you mark his neck, or anywhere that might be seen by the other peaky lads because he's still a little uncertain whether letting his woman bite him makes him "less of a man" it's definitely something he is sensitive about... But I think he'll grow out of that and grow into a John type figure who brags about it...

🐁 He likes it when you bite him during sex, if you sink your teeth into his shoulder when he's fucking you he takes that as a sign he's doing a very good job and it motivates him to go all the harder...

Michael

☘️ He's very shocked the first time you bite him... He chastises you because "that wasn't very ladylike of you y/n..."

☘️ He definitely has pretty firm ideas about what makes a man, and he definitely doesn't think allowing your woman to bite you (even if it is affectionately) is very manly at all...

☘️ He definitely has a complex, trying to be like Tommy, wanting his cousins approval desperately, and in his head he asks himself "what would Tommy say if he saw this?" Unfortunately Michael isn't actually that good at predicting what his cousin Tommy would say because if he was he'd Know that Tommy a) wouldn't give a shit if you were biting Michael and b) would quite like it if you were biting him...

☘️ And the thing is... The thing is that Michael quite likes it. He doesn't know why and he certainly thinks he's not supposed to like it... But undeniably he does. And you can tell that he does too... You can tell because whenever Michael likes something he tends to stiffen a little, he tends to frown and swallow his enjoyment down. So when he straightens his back and clears his throat, that's when you know he really likes something...

☘️ So despite the way he always scolds you, despite the way he threatens to punish you for persistently ignoring his rules and biting him, you carry on... Because you know that deep down he likes it and that really all he needs to do, something you wish he could do, is accept that it's okay to enjoy affection.

☘️ Because really that's all it is, Michael has a problem with showing and accepting affection... Sure he was raised for a time by Polly, but he doesn't remember that and the middle class cottage dwelling family who did raise him, were restrictive to say the least. Affection was earned and it certainly wasn't sentimental... So when you do something as sweet and seemingly motiveless as playfully biting him, he doesn't know how to handle it and he's embarrassed to show his enjoyment...

☘️ Anyway, he likes it... He really likes it and whenever you graze his skin with your teeth, he gets this tingling feeling all through his body, a kind of asmr response? He sometimes comes out in goosebumps and then he really doesn't know how to try and hide his love for your little habit. That's when he'll really tell you off and you'll just giggle along apologising through your laughter before kissing him on the cheek and teasing that you're going to do it again.

☘️ During sex he really can't hide how much he likes it and honestly he's given up trying, if you bite his neck or nibble his ear, or if your graze your teeth over his chest, he moans on command and it is music to your ears... He also fucking loves it when you nip at his thighs when you're on your knees giving him head. The first time you did that to him it blew his mind.

Bonus material here (and I'm sorry I didn't have it in me to write HCs for some of our other men but...)

🪽 Luca is absolutely the type to tease you and ask something like "What's the matter with you sweetheart, they don't feed you at home?"

🪽 Would probably get your bite marks tattooed on him...

🦔 When you bite him Aberama will gnash his teeth at you to tease you, pretending that he's gonna bite your fingers off.

🦔 he likes it when you nibble on his ear...

Taglist

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@zablife

@marwwfairy

@everysage

@tommyshelbyswhore

@kas3yhatesyou

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

@call-sign-shark

@only-malala

@galactict3a

@darkcastle167

@feyresqueen

@ratcig

@love4thegallaghers

@randomcreator-09

@niktwazny303

@val-murphy

@liliac-dreamer

@mollybegger-blog

@vanhelsingsbigtoe

@hp-hogwartsexpress

@sethell

@novashelby

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #john shelby x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #arthur shelby x reader #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic

109 notes · View notes