#i woke up frantic from a dream

[silvermasquerade]

aftg fandom: renee girlies are there any pins or keychains of her that exist??? im trying to find any of her- ( I cant find any of the non three main boys. So more of them would help) help its for an ita bag

[oozeandgoo-art]

had an odd dream that i was reading a comic book. sketched a couple of the pages i could remember.

[goatsandgangsters]

you all might remember my struggle to wrap my head around the hotd family tree ouroboros

well I had a dream that was essentially succession-style shenanigans with alicent's failchildren and I woke up like "oh haha and it works bc there's two boys and a gi—RHAENYRA IS CONNOR"

and we really should have used this frame of reference for me and my bad-at-names-ism bc suddenly everything clicked for me and I was like

"ok ok I GET IT NOW, so Connor is married to Uncle Ewan but he and Caroline were childhood lesbians and before Logan died he told Connor he wanted him to take the company but the company expected Kendall, and now Roman's gone and hit Connor's hypothetical-child with his SUV and then set Kendall on fire, I UNDERSTAND NOW"

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

.

[theinfinitedivides]

had the wildest f*cking dream last night of an alternate timeline where they actually manage to convince Shah Rukh to go on Buzzfeed to read Thirst Tweets and i have firmly established i do not want that happening irl, sfjsfdnkjsdnj

[majorxmaggiexboy]

me when it’s time for cough syrup 

[gayjunebug]

few days ago ive had a dream that mentally fucked me up and i cannot stop thinking about it :((

[obsessivevoidkitten]

How The Elf Saved Christmas

Yandere Rudolph The Red-Nosed Deertaur x Gender Neutral Elf Reader CW: Painful Noncon, nonhuman genitalia, size difference, possessive behavior, possessive sex, jealous behavior, general yandere behavior, rut cycle, reader fucked big stupid, overstimulation, cum as lube, mention of musk Word Count: 1.3k (This is your Christmas gift from me, I hope you enjoy it <3)

It was one of the earliest years since the start of the Christmas holiday. Rudolph had just recently joined the other deertaurs that drew Santa's sleigh. Not only did he have the magic ability to fly like the others, but he also could produce a fog and snow dispelling light from his nose. He was perfect to lead the sleigh.

Well... almost perfect.

A week into December, he started acting out. Behaving aggressively towards the other deertaurs, secluding himself, and acting unusually possessive over the elf who had been assigned as his servant.

That was you. You brought him his meals and made sure he was comfortable. Normally Rudolph was very low maintenance and your job was exceedingly easy. He was always considerate of you and treated you very kindly.

But lately, Rudolph wouldn't let you out of his sight. And snapped at anyone who got near you, especially if you happened to walk by another deertaur. One time, he even looked as if he was about to stab at Blitzen with his antlers.

The reindeer even looked different. His normally kind brown eyes were more frenzied and dilated. The normally straight, soft, brown hair of his human half was unkempt. And his muscular human body was always tense.

The other deer-men knew what was going on. But it wasn't like they could get near you to tell you.

Rudolph was in rut.

And he had determined, subconsciously, that you were going to be his mate.

The other deer hybrids had gone to Santa and apprised him of the situation, but he chose to do nothing about it. Forcefully taking away a rutting deer's love interest could get very dangerous.

Besides, Christmas was fast approaching, and the fastest way out of rut was for Rudolph to satisfy his urges. And really, what was the comfort of one elf compared to the enormity of the holiday? Christmas was at stake.

In your employee contract, you had agreed to uphold the sanctity of the holiday and do everything in your power to keep Christmas safe and running smoothly. If that meant you had to be a cocksleeve for a deertaur to keep his head clear so he could guide the sleigh, then so be it.

But even Rudolph didn't know why he was so irritable or why he was so odd in his behavior towards you. Why the thought of you being near someone else or out of his side filled him with rage and anxiety.

You were completely distressed. Your boss was acting so differently towards you. You couldn't even return to your little hut. Normally, you would be dismissed at nights but Rudolph wouldn't let you leave.

Instead, you were made to sleep in his house and on his soft, low to the ground bedding.

One morning, about a week away from Christmas, you both learned why he was behaving in such an egregious manner.

Rudolph woke up before you did and something about the way you lay sprawled out with your butt up in the air and your pants slightly falling off. You woke something up in him.

All his instincts shouted at him to breed this elf that was presenting themself to him. To claim you as his mate officially.

Careful not to wake you, because he didn't want you to struggle until it was too late, he pulled your red and green pants and candy cane striped underwear down to your knees. Then he proceeded to lower himself over you until he was in position.

You were ripped violently from your dreams as extreme pain rammed through you. Rudolph, now at the height of his rut, had jammed in all in one go and with no prep.

Your tiny elf body squirmed and writhed in confusion and pain, the frantic struggles sending waves of pleasure through his cock which was embedded so well within you.

"Wha-what are you d-doing?" You squeaked out through the pain.

He didn't bother replying.

Rudolph's body was all you could see above you as his strong thrusts moved you back and forth below him.

The act was raw, instinctive, and possessive. Like your personhood was being fucked away by this being much larger than you until you were reduced to his property.

Screams for help barely escaped your body. They went unanswered. Even if someone had heard you Santa would have told them to steer clear.

You cried and sobbed, powerless to remove the brute who was raping you. Though it seemed he finally had noticed the cries of his partner through his rut.

He slowed down his pace, just a bit.

Snow elves were small but extremely resilient and adaptable. That fact, combined with a slightly slower rhythm allowed you to feel a bit of pleasure as your body adjusted.

"Fuck! You feel so tight! You're just so small~ Gotta fill you with cum. Gotta breed. Gotta breed. Gotta breed..."

You whimpered as the deer man lost himself in his carnal desire to fuck you silly.

He slowed down as he came in you, and you thought you could relax. You went limp, but before you could catch your breath he started pounding into you with renewed vigor, roughly pounding you into the bedding.

Cum leaked down your thighs as his heavy balls smacked you. The smell of his musk filled the air and made you a slight bit dizzy.

The seed from the first round of breeding had lubricated you nicely, and he slid in and out of you in a much more pleasurable manner.

"You take me so fucking well!"

Your crying and sobbing gradually turned into gasps and shudders of pleasure as over the course of the next several hours you came over and over until you couldn't react anymore.

You just lay there and take, completely senseless and overstimulated. Weeping not from pain but from the sensations of seemingly endless mating.

Finally he came in you hard and left himself in a while before pulling out completely. His dick left you with a lewd squelch as at least a gallon of semen dripped from your well worn hole.

For the first time in weeks he finally felt somewhat clear headed.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry."

Rudolph picked you up, cleaned you, and fed you. You were too tired to protest.

The deertaur was remarkably tender for someone who had just taken you against your will, treating you like a snowflake that would vanish under the slightest mistreatment.

It was odd being served by him for a change. But you were too out of it to really give it much thought.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more gentle. But I'm not sorry that you're my mate now."

He was still in rut, and every single day leading up to Christmas Eve, he made you endure an hours long breeding session. You smelled just like him. As if his scent was ingrained in you at a cellular level.

Luckily, his rut ended just in time for him to be able to complete his job, guiding the sleigh without a hitch.

You tried to escape while he was out with Santa, but the higher up elves informed you that you had a new assignment.

You had to live with Rudolph permanently to make sure he never got wild again. His partner had to live with him. If they took you from him now, even outside of rut, he'd go insane. And he performed a very important task by leading the sleigh.

You should have felt honored. Not many elves got to personally save Christmas.

[screampied]

whenever you had a nightmare, gojo would always be there to comfort you.

you hated them with a fiery passion, how you’d abruptly wake up from sleep with pure confusion and fear. violently shaking, on the brink of tears with feeling your heart steadily beating out of your chest. it hurt, it always hurt. but no one knew how to deal with them except for gojo.

“heyy, hey. relax, angel,” a soft voice would bring you back to reality, instantly calming you down. his words were always so soothing to hear. “it’s just another dream. you’re okay, we’re okay,” and two strong arms pull you close. his balmy warmth was always your favorite to feel against your skin. gojo still hears the shakiness of your shallow breath as you tremble within his tight secure grasp. your head buries into the center of his chest before he gradually starts to rock you back and forth. “just breathe.”

you were still quite tired, your eyes were struggling a bit to keep themselves open, growing hooded and drooping low. as you start to relax from his pacifying rocking, you let off a elongated sigh that’s been waiting to release from your lungs. “i- it was just a dream?” you murmur, a cracking tremor underneath your sweet tone, a brow quirking into a furrow.

“yes. but you’re okay. i’m here. ‘toru’s here,” he kisses the top of your forehead with that same cheeky smile you’ve grown to fall in love with. you look up with glossy eyes as you’re trapped in his embrace, crystalline cerulean irises shining so bright in the dark that they could be mistaken as green. gojo cups your cheek for a moment, a rotund thumb tenderly stroking against your warm temple. “it’s always just a dream, baby.”

until it wasn’t.

you could stay like this forever.

just happily being entrapped in your lover’s arms. gojo always knew the right things to say to calm you down, to ease you. you were his person and he was yours. all it really took was a few silent minutes of him rocking you back and forth and your eyes would soon gradually close. he’d watch you go back to sleep, brushing a few tresses of hair away from your eyes. as he’d watch you succumb back into your long awaited slumber, gojo would shower a few chaste kisses near your forehead, letting the final words you’d hear was how much he loves you.

but your nightmares progressed as the nights went by.

and this time—your nightmare felt a bit too real.

like usual, whenever you woke up your body would feel between a mixture of cold and hot. a frigid sweat runs down the nape of your neck as you jump up, hearing your frantic heart beats pump straight through your ears. it’s loud, a blaring loud sound that you couldn’t seem to stop. your room was dark, pitch black from your lamp being turned off. as you’re panting, heaving for your breaths to slow down, you’re waiting for those words to come.

“it’s okay, it’s just another nightmare.”

“just breathe, you’re okay. we’re okay.”

you’re waiting for those same words from gojo, you’re waiting for his arms to wrap around you, his soft plump lips kissing against your forehead.

but those minuscule details never came.

you sit up, feeling around your bed with a clammy palm — reaching around near his side of the bed.

to your shock, it’s surprisingly cold. almost as if no one was even sleeping there. within an instant, confusion shoots through your brain.

he was always here,

he promised he’d always be here.

but now he’s not.

“s- satoru?” your voice calls out, though it’s practically already broken. the surreal nightmare you just endured still had you quite shake up. perhaps you were in a dream within a dream. yeah, that had to be it. perhaps.

alas though—that wasn’t the case at all.

you take a long pause once your call of his name was met with gut-wrenching silence. it’s a hurtful pause that makes you bite the inside of your cheek in dread.

you didn’t want to come to reality, you didn’t wanna realize that perhaps just maybe this wasn’t even dream at all.

the harsh reality that you were so scared of facing was real, and the real nightmare was that gojo satoru, your lover, was long gone.

he said he’d win his last battle but he didn’t.

the real nightmare was that gojo satoru — the strongest, was gone and you were all alone. .

[stormberry-12]

snooze fest ~ lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: slight language, illusions of sex.

Lando rolled over groggily, a yawn escaped him as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. He cursed silently when he saw the hour, almost 10 am. Suddenly awake he rolled over excitedly only to be hit with empty, cold space. His heart immediately sank.

You were nowhere to be found in the spot where you had fallen asleep the night before. He didn't get it, what had gone wrong?

Sure, it was only your second date. However, he thought the two of you had something different, especially after last night. The thought of you made him instantly giddy. You were gorgeous, smart, and witty...

He was utterly obsessed with you.

But you had left.

Lando managed to drag himself out of bed, he wasn't usually a coffee drinker but today he felt like he needed one. He pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers and shuffled his way to the kitchen. As the coffee brewed his mind went back to spiraling.

Did you assume that he wanted you gone?

Was that where his reputation had led him?

He had most seriously just fumbled the girl of his dreams.

He opened the fridge and hauled the jug of milk over to the counter, pouring a splash into his mug. Picking up the mug he sighed, over to the living room he walked, with coffee in hand. He sat down on the couc-

"Ow!"

Lando jumped, "OWWIE!"

Hot, sizzling coffee dripped down his chest as he sprang up off the couch, "You scared the shit out of me!"

"You sat on me!" you countered, emerging from the blanket you had been hiding under and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked still in shock.

"Oh, um- sorry I can leave. I didn't realize how late it was," you mumbled, flushing embarrassed.

Shit. "No, no, no don't leave!" Lando waved his hand frantically, walking to place his mug on the coffee table. "I uh-" his voice trailed off into the kitchen and you followed. "I just meant what are you doing on the couch?"

You looked at him, attempting to wipe the coffee from his clothes, "You snore."

He stared at you blankly, relief flooding through his body that you were still here. Standing right in front of him. He giggled, "Oh, sorry bout' that."

"No worries, I punched you to try and make you roll over-"

"That's why my shoulder hurts-"

"Yeah..."

He stared at you and chuckled sheepishly, "I was actually disappointed when I woke up, I thought you had left. Happy I sat on you..."

You rolled your eyes, walking towards the fridge, "Saying you wanna keep me around Norris?"

"Definitely. Oh, I wouldn't open that-"

You stared into the almost-empty fridge, all that lined the shelves was a carton of milk and pre-prepped meals in plastic containers.

"Huh. I didn't strike you as the type to be on the meal-planning-mom side of TikTok,"

"Shut up," he chuckled, striding over to you.

You sniffed the contents of an already open bottle, "What is this? Crack?"

"Protein shake, I know boring-"

"Snooze fest," you mumbled in agreement.

"Well, no point in just staring at it any longer," He slammed the fridge shut and kissed your temple, "C'mon! Get dressed and we can go get something to eat. Maybe stop at the convenience store..."

"What do you need to get at the convenience store?" you asked as he walked toward his bedroom.

"Earplugs!"

[beingsuneone]

I BET You Think About Me

SYNOPSIS: being Theo’s girlfriend is a dream… until you find out why he asked you out in the first place.

FANDOM: Harry Potter

PAIRING(S): Theodore Nott x fem!reader

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Snape

GENRE/AU: Snape’s Daughter!Reader, Asks you out cause of a bet, kind of angsty, kind of fluffy, slytherin!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: swearing and kissing.

A/N: agh. It’s 3 in the morning. Enjoy. May have a tiny bit of pacing issues but it’s fine

DEDICATIONS: the polls who decided they wanted Theo while I decided I was gonna post Mattheo and Rhysand instead.

CREDITS: n/a

…Six Months Ago….

——————————————————————————

“You can’t do it, Theo.” Draco says plainly. “If she’s anything like her father she won’t be able to feel that kind of emotion.”

Theo shakes his head. “She’s still a girl.”

Mattheo snorts, Enzo sputters. “That’s a bit sexist, Theo.” Enzo says, looking over at Y/n L/n.

She’s Severus Snape’s daughter and completely untouchable. Theo hasn’t seen a single guy going out with her in the whole six years they’d been at hogwarts.

That might be because of her father.

“Draco’s right.” Mattheo says. “She’ll never fall for you.”

“I’m gonna prove you guys wrong and you’re gonna owe me a shit ton of money for it.”

…. One Month Ago ….

——————————————————————————

Mattheo stares at you as you walks away. “Damn, I guess you were right.” Both him and Draco reach for their wallets but Theo waves them off.

“I don’t want it— any of it.” It felt for him wrong to take the money from the bet. Theo had fallen for you just as hard— if not harder— as you’d fallen for him.

Hell, Theo would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him.

“What do you mean?” Blaise asks incredulously. “You won the bet.”

Theo furrows his eyebrows. “Whatever, I don’t want the money.”

They all stare at him.

One, two, three minutes of silence before Mattheo blurts out: “Oh my god. Theo fell for her.” He starts to laugh, and the other boy's eyes widen.

“Wow. That’s a little bit pathetic, Theo.” Draco teases.

Pansy slides in beside Blaise. “Wow. Famous playboy Theodore Nott fell for someone?” She snickers. “Who?”

Theo deadpans. “What do you mean who?” You are Pansy’s roommate after all, Pansy should better than anybody.

Her face falls. “You don’t mean y/n. do you?” Theo nods and she gives him an exasperated look. “Theo! You literally only dated her to win a bet!”

“Yeah, I know!” He retorts. A beat of silence, then, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You have to tell her.” Enzo cuts in. “If you truly like her, it isn’t something you can keep secret.”

Theo nods his head absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”

He didn’t want his new relationship to end before it ever began.

….Present….

——————————————————————————

Today, you woke up late, stubbed your toe on your bed and then spent the ten minutes you had to get ready looking for your damned potions book.

When you’d finally found it, threw on your uniform and got your hair into some sort of presentable, you rushed out your dorm and down the hallways as fast as your feet would take you.

Your class was on the opposite side of Hogwarts and you were already ten minutes late.

In your haste, you aren’t watching for other people in front of you and run straight into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim frantically, picking up your books as she picks up hers.

She looks familiar but you don’t know her name.

“No, it’s okay— Oh.” Her faces twists into a scowl when she meets your gaze. “You’re Theo’s ‘Girlfriend’” she airquotes as she says ‘girlfriend’, causing you to narrow your eyes at here.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Uhm, yeah, I am. Why did you say it like that?”

She crosses her arms. “Because you and I both know that he doesn’t actually like you. You’re not his girlfriend.”

“And who, exactly, are you?” You ask, annoyance settling in your chest.

She looks down at you, a cocky expression written on her face. “You should probably just stay away from him, you know that, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really, he’s going to be mine so I don’t even know what you’re doing.” She waves you off, as if she truly believes this.

You shuffle your books around in your arms and shift your weight into your other leg. “You do know that you’re not his girlfriend, right?”

“Whatever.” She shrugs, and you still don’t know her name. “Doesn’t matter if he calls you his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re a threat anyway.”

What does she mean ‘not a threat’? You feel like that’s a sentence better used to describe her considering, you’re Theo’s actual girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously but still relatively calm.

She gives you a mock sympathetic expression. “Oh, Sweetheart,” She starts, taunting you with each syllable. “You didn’t really think someone like Theo would settle down for someone like you… do you? I mean, he’s all parties and good times and you’re… well, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”

She looks you up and down, from your half-untucked uniform shirt to your loose tie and your unwrinkled skirt. You’re not usually this messed up. “Clearly, I do, because he did.” You pause, sigh deeply and roll your eyes. “Why am I even entertaining this conversation?” You turn away from her, preparing to tune her out and walk away.

She tuts, shaking her head. “Because you obviously know you mean nothing to him— after all when your relationship starts with a bet, I don’t think it’s ever been super stable.”

This makes you stop and turn back to her. “A bet?” You say it slowly and the words taste awful on your tongue. “What bet?”

She scoffs-laughs and smiles evilly. “Oops, did I say too much?”

Theo chooses this moment to walk up behind the two of your . He slides his hand around my waist, letting it rest there as he stands beside me. “Are you okay? You’re super late.” He asks, looking you over. His eyes flit over to the girl who was talking to you and his nose scrunched. “Why are you talking to Tracey?”

Tracey, that’s her name.

I don’t think he likes her too much.

Tracey opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off and begin dragging Theo away. “I don’t even know, Theo, let’s go.”

I can feel Tracey’s glare until we’re well out of her line of sight.

Jealous.

……

You can’t get Tracey’s words out of your head. You know it was a tactic to rile you up and, you suppose, it worked but you had this horrible feeling that maybe she wasn’t lying.

Asking Theo about it though? That was hard; you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him but you also didn’t want to get upset before you knew whether it was true or not.

You decided to ask one or two other people before Theo. Pansy Parkinson, was first. She’s been your friend since first year but she hung out with Theo’s group long before you ever did.

“Hey, Pansy.” You say airily. She looks up at you and smiles.

The bed creaks as you fall down onto it and sigh. “Can I ask you a random question?” You ask, fidgeting with the corner of your blankets.

She looks up at you expectantly but also with a good deal of worry. “Yeah, of course; What’s up?”

She shifts in her spot at the end of her bed, turning her full attention to me.

“Did you ever… I don’t know,” you stop, trying to find the correct words. “Did you ever hear anything about Me, Theo and a bet? While you were, like, hanging out with them.”

Pansy looks down at your fidgeting fingers and then furrows her eyebrows. She thinks about it for a minute, and her face drops so slightly I almost don’t catch it. “Oh, y/n…” she trails off. “He didn’t tell you?”

Every muscle in your body locks up. “He didn’t tell me what?” You don’t think you really want the confirmation now that you know it’s coming.

Pansy stands and then sits down next to you and pulls you into her in a side hug. “When Theo started trying to get with you it was because of a bet.” She stops but you just gesture for her to continue. “… I wasn’t actively apart of this conversation so I only got the gist of it but I was there.”

“What was the bet.” You say, with your eyes hot and your throat restricted. Your tone makes it seem like it wasn’t a question.

“The boys bet him that he couldn’t make the next woman he saw fall in love with him by the end of the year.” She gives your a sad smile. “I guess the next woman was you.”

What. The. Fuck. You’re gonna kill him, because he obviously won that goddamn bet already. You give Pansy a quick squeeze and then stand up. “I need to go talk to him.”

Pansy nods and walks back to her own bed, waving bye as you walk through the door.

Your vision is a bit blurry and your hands are shaking with betrayal and anger as you storm away from the girl’s dorms and right through the common room to the boy’s dorms.

When you reach his door, you knock loudly, despite it being late.

Draco answers. He looks you up and down and then turns his back halfway to you. “Theo, your girlfriend is here.”

Theo appears a moment later, an easy smile and his piercing eyes that you want to love so badly right now. He gently moves you back a bit and steps out of the dorm. “Hey, Baby, what’s up?”

You shudder at the pet name and his face drops. “Oh, I don’t know, Theo.”

He pulls you to the other side of the hall and keeps his hands on your arms, comforting both yourself and him. “What’s wrong? Did somebody do something to you?”

The worry on his face seems so genuine, you almost want to believe the bet was a lie— but you’re not that stupid.

“Yeah, Theo, someone hurt me.” You pause. “It was you and your fucking bet.”

He freezes. “Shit. Who told you about that?”

You don’t want to— no, you can’t look in his eyes. “That girl, Tracey, and then Pansy filled in the finer details.” You’re arms are crossed now and he can’t hold you like he was before. “Is that seriously the only thing you care about right now— actually, obviously it would be because I’m just a bet, right?”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Actually,” you continue. “I don’t want to hear it— just, have a good life, Theo. I’d say we’re over but I don’t think we really ever started to begin with.”

You walk away before you second-guess yourself and ignore as he calls your name. He doesn’t run after you, which you’re equally glad for and disappointed by.

God, you don’t think your heart has ever hurt this bad.

…..

You haven’t seen Theo in class for the whole week after you ‘broke up’; you’ve seen glimpses of him outside, always smoking, or eating in the Great Hall but it’s like he’s intentionally missing every class you have together.

He probably is.

He shouldn't have that right. You’re the one who gets to avoid him, he doesn’t get to avoid you.

You’re the one who got played like a violin and ended up battered and bruised.

You don’t see him for most of your days, but, when you do— when you look at him, his eyes are always already on you.

As a result the other Slytherin boys glance at you while he stares, because of how intensely he does so. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you at all times.

You try your best to ignore him as you stand to leave the Great Hall.

A boy stops you near the entrance, you think you recognize him. He’s the same year as you, and pretty nice as far as you know. His name is Lucas, you’re pretty sure.

“Hey.” Lucas says warmly. “How are you?”

He’s a bit close, and you’re sort of backed into the wall. You laugh awkwardly. “I’m alright, um, how are you?”

He smiles. “About the same,” he looks behind him and then back at you, same easy-going smile that isn’t easy the way Theo’s is. “Anyways, I was wondering… since you broke up with Nott, maybe you’d wanna go out sometime? With me?”

“She doesn’t.”

Lucas’s shoulders jump at the sound of Theo’s voice and he backs away from you and spins to look at Theo, whose standing there with a dangerous look on his face.

You glare at him. “Maybe I do want to.” It’s a challenge and Theo knows it.

Lucas sputters. “You know, I actually realized I’m busy, so…” he scrambles off after that you’re left with Theo.

You scowl at him. “Theo, what the fuck?”

“He’s not good enough for you.” He shrugs like he knows what’s good enough for you. Mr. Bet-Winner.

Your heart aches in your chest just looking at him. “And how would you know what’s good enough for me, Theo? because you sure as hell weren’t.”

He scowls now. “I treated you like you were a fucking princess, Y/n, all he would’ve done was treat you like a piece of ass.”

You huff. “A princess, Theo? None of it was even real!” You spin to walk away but Theo catches your wrist and pulls you back; he slips his other arm around your waist and pulls you right to his chest. Your faces almost touch.

Your breath hitches like the traitor that it is.

He pulls your hand up to rest on his chest, where his heart beats hard and erratically. “Does this feel fake to you?” Theo’s fingers dig lightly into your waist. “Do you honestly think that all of that— everything we said and did— meant nothing?”

His breath fans across your face.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s the ice bucket that can save you— but your pride and anger are like the fires of hell; irreparable.

“You took a bet to make me fall for you, Theo, and lucky for you, you won it. How much was I worth, huh?”

He replies almost instantly. “I didn’t take any money, Y/n.” Theo breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall, forcing yours to do the same.

“You— what?” You can feel your resolve cracking, the hope leaking through that somehow you were wrong.

“Let me explain the full story.” He waits for you to give him confirmation; you nod and he continues. “Yes, it started with the bet, and yes, I had never planned for it to last. It was cruel and mean, and I’m sorry. But the thing is, I didn’t anticipate that I would end up falling in love with you right back.” The words feel like a kick to the heart.

“But, on the other hand, how could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re intelligent and funny, you laugh at all my stupid jokes. You love potions more than any other class and you’re really good at it too.” He stops. “Y/n, you’re perfect and I’m so, so sorry I never told you— or, even worse, that I did it in the first place.”

Your heart skips several beats. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” You’re at a loss for words.

He just looks you over, trying to assess what’s running through your mind like he always does. “Please forgive me, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts.”

You pull away from him and he reluctantly lets go, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“You’re serious?” You ask quietly. “No bets this time? Nothing you haven’t told me?”

He shakes his head, giving you the saddest, puppy-dog look, unintentionally.

You’re silent for another long moment before, finally, you say: “you love me?”

Theo looks into your eyes. “God, yes.”

“Okay.” You say softly.

He straightens. “Okay, you’ll get back together with me or Okay, I don’t forgive you?”

You hold up one finger and he seems to understand because he pulls you back into him so quickly and presses his lips to mine; you kiss him back, and kind of stand there, kissing, for a long moment. Probably longer than you should’ve.

But you wish he never had to stop.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[elixrr]

“Please,” He murmured with a slight tremble in his voice, “don't leave. Don't go just yet.”

His arms snuck around your figure and wrapped you in his embrace. He just needed to feel you, to know that you're there. A smile graced your face in response, a blissful sight gifted to him from the heavens.

“I won't.”

“You won't go?” his eyes hesitantly met yours. He felt so weak, so vulnerable for the first time in ages. He felt powerless in your presence.

“Why would I?”

He stared into your eyes, confusion catching him. He held you tighter.

“You mean you wouldn't have a reason to?”

You chuckled, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“Never in my life.”

.

You liar.

He snapped back into reality, chasing after you through the city crowd.

Why?

He sobbed, not caring if the entire universe could hear him. He cried your name, pushing through the crowd but—

Why did you leave him?

You were nowhere to be seen. This isn't real. This can't be. Why are you leaving? Why'd you have to go? He finally trudged through the last few people of the crowd, jumping out of it. He frantically looked around for you.

Show yourself. Show up.

Please.

But you were nowhere—

Show yourself. Show up. Please.

Please don't leave me.

—But you were nowhere to be seen.

He tripped on the sidewalk, falling over, but without you? He didn't have a reason to even want to get up.

.

“Hey, hey? Hey!” You whisper-yelled next to him, dressed in your usual clothing.

Your boyfriend woke up, groggy and sweating. He stretched, yawning, and then looked down at the bed.

What?

“I've got to go now. Sorry for waking you up, I wanted to get you up and going for work later.”

You smiled at him, and when he only looked at you without a single noticeable piece of love in his eyes, you stopped.

In contrast, he looked up at you like you were his savior. You, who he thought he just lost, are back here with him. You're still with him. You're still in love with him. It was all just a bad dream.

“Actually, uhm, can I...” You looked away. You stopped smiling at him. He looked up at you in wonder.

“...Can I talk to you later?”

His heart dropped.

“We need to talk.”

(inspired by @areislol) / I wrote this in 15 mins it's kind of shit

[syddsatyrn]

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 

 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 

[mysumeow]

ᯓ★ KINKTOBER DAY 4: SUCCUBUS

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Afab body reader, referred to with feminine terms such as girl. Arle has a dick (You may decide to read it as a strap on or not). Succubus Arlecchino. Established relationship.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: Succubus Arlecchino peeks into your deepest desires to embody them.

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: Sesbian lex???!!!!! More likely than you think.

🎃 . . . KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Your loving girlfriend Arlecchino.

She, who reciprocates your eager hugs when she’s back from work.

She, who gently brushes your hair when you ask her for it.

She, who pushes your legs as far as they can go as she fucks you within an inch of your life—

“Wait—Wait, please!” You gasped as you felt her push until she bottomed out, the head of her cock stretching out your vulnerable insides. It was thicker and harder than anything you’ve taken before; you feared it could split you open from the sheer size of it.

“Keep those cute sounds coming, darling. You sound beautiful,” her lips swallowed your desperate whines, her tongue possessively playing with yours. She clasped her hold on your hips to keep you in place. As small as the tremors from your body were, the feel of her cock was overwhelming.

This was unusual of Arlecchino; used to her doting on you and the sweetness with which she would handle your body, this sudden outburst of famine for sex was a surprise. One that was exciting, albeit the abruptness.

“It’s okay,” she kissed away the tiny tears that prickled your eyes; nimble fingers caressed your cheek. “You’ll feel really good soon. Just let yourself go, trust your body and your pleasure to me.”

“Arle…” you muttered, and the sound of your quivering voice excited her. She held your face in place, greedy to surmise every single detail.

Arlecchino pulled away and then jerked forward, stuffing you full of her dick again. It bumped against the deepest parts of your body, leaving you short of breath. You threw your head back against the pillow when the tempo became faster, as if she was punching the air out of your lungs from how deep she was.

“Keep squeezing me like that, good girl." Arlecchino sucked marks into your skin—evidence of who you belonged to. “You want it, hm? You want me to fill you up with it again and again?”

“Yes, I want it! Give it to me, Arle,” you couldn’t help but utter in frantic moans. “Make me yours.”

You were the moment you let your guard down and allowed her to breach into your dreams.

Pleased by your begging, her hands went to your clit to rub it. She knew it was akin to an overkill, since this was within the realm of her powers, the extra stimulation was given to make your orgasm especially strong.

Your pussy tightened around her, your orgasm drenching her length of your juices.

Faintly, you registered her pulling away from you. The bed shifted from the movements, but you didn’t have the mind to worry about it, basking from the leftover waves of pleasure.

“Open up, sweetheart…”

You felt something prod at your lips, which prompted you to open your eyes.

Arlecchino had straddled you until her cock was within reach of your mouth, fingers grazing across your hair in a sweet gesture with hidden intentions.

“I wasn’t done with you yet,” her salacious grin made your heart race.

You woke up with a jolt, and you would’ve sat up if not for the arm weighing you down.

The sun shone through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day.

“Mm…” Arlecchino stirred awake. She noticed your disheveled appearance and expressed a questioning look.

Despite being awake from such a vivid and hefty wet dream, you couldn’t find peace from seeing your partner’s breathtaking face up close and personal. And with more reason, considering the focus point of said dream was her.

“I dreamt that...” you hesitated. “Nevermind.”

“I do wish you shared it with me, darling,” her fingers ghosted over your hipbone. “As detailed as possible.”

[joonieskinks]

I just read your blurb where reader wakes up and she’s married to Sergeant Soap and not Captain Soap but I feel like what if it’s reversed. What if she’s this young bonnie thing with a young husband and then she wakes up to be married to older, slightly more mature, Captain MacTavish.

uh- HELLO?? I love it. Sorry it took so long but here you go, hope I did it justice xx

warning: age gap so shoo if ur not into it

You sat up slowly in the bed, stilling orientating yourself and emerging from sleep. You had thought the sheets felt a little different, but assumed that maybe you were still dreaming. It was only when your eyes opened did you realize you weren’t at home anymore.

You were on base in the early morning, in a room that looked an awful like your husband’s when you would come to see him and stay with him for a couple nights. Well, that was what you did until his passing.

Johnny and you were a young love. He got down on one knee before he was even 23, and got to the altar before 24. You only got a couple months with him as husband and wife- a young widow they now called you. Everyday is hard, but that horrible day you received the news plays over and over in your mind all the time like a nightmare you just can’t shake.

John, Simon and Kyle all came to your door to tell you personally. They cried with you and stayed with you, they promised they would help take care of you, always. It’s what Johnny would have wanted.

The panic finally began to sink in as you could not remember how you got here. Everything was different but also incredibly familiar. This was the base alright, but the layout seemed altered, the paint a different colour. Looking around, you turned on the nightstand light, eyes briefly glancing at the framed photo beside.

It was like your blood turned cold.

There was your Johnny.

That’s your Johnny with his boys, with John, Simon, Kyle. But older, so much older. But he was alive, he was smiling, he’s so handsome and he’s there-

You shot out of bed, running into the hallway, searching for anyone, any familiar face. For your husband. Is he your husband? If he’s older? But how is he alive? Is he still alive?

The questions running around your head, threatening to ignite tears from your eyes. You turn a sharp corner, bumping straight into a hefty figure.

“Sorry” you stumbled out, trying to regain your balance.

“‘S alright.” The man started, looking down at the small, young girl who’s a frantic mess before him.

“Hey, hold on,” he starts again, and you glance up. Coming face to face with John Price. Much older, a thicker beard adorning his face, but that same damn hat. It was him.

“Slow down there a sec and-“

“John?”

The recognition in your voice stops him in his tracks, he looks you over for a couple seconds and shakes his head.

“Think you might be mistaken, love.” He smiles gently, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Johnathon Price- Captain. You, Kyle, Simon and my Johnny were all on Taskforce 141 when we met. You even came to our wedding, you were one of the groomsmen for crying out loud. I-“

“Stop right there.” John orders, his hands coming to grip your shoulders. “How could you possibly know about all that?”

“John, I know you. Now, what’s going on? How did I get here and why’re you older?” You asked, utterly confused and exhausted, you needed answers and you needed them now.

He glanced around the room before making his decision.

“Alright, come with me. We’ve gotta talk.”

-

John sat you down in a private room with a two-way mirror where you told him all about himself, how you woke up here and your marriage. Your Johnny MacTavish, your young husband who went by Soap. Everything, you laid it all on the table, the task force, the mission, the death. Everything.

And John believed you, as crazy as it sounded, from wherever you came from and however you got here- because how else could you know all this?

As he listened, he kept looking to your ring finger, the gold band adorning that you refused to ever take off. He admired your devotion.

John sat, silent when you finished, glancing towards the mirror every now again. Thinking and planning his next move.

“Wait here.” He stood up from his chair and left out the door, leaving you with your own thoughts. But only the same questions were on repeat.

Where am I? What was that photo? Why is he older? Is he still alive? Does he know who I am? Would he think I’m crazy? What now?

You almost didn’t register the sound of Price opening the door again until his figure reappeared. He could only stare at you, empathy in his eyes. Although this was a weird situation, he could tell you were genuine and wanted to help, so he trusted you. Anything for his boys, Johnny included.

“He’s been listening.” John starts and you draw in a breath.. You didn’t even know you were holding it.

He? As in your Johnny?

“He would like to meet you, if you’d like to see him-“

“Yes.” You reply without thinking.

Eager for anything, anything at all that could bring you a glimpse Johnny. The love of your life taken so young, life was so cruel and unfair. Taking him just as you were happiest. He was alive but was this still your Johnny? From the photo he was older, he’s different. He probably doesn’t even know who you are, for all you know he could be married, have his own kids. Who the hell are you to interrupt all of that?

“Then I’ll take my leave.” John huffs, interrupting your thoughts. He eyes you up and down one last time before exiting once again.

You sit up from your chair instinctively, playing with your ring. It’s only now that the doubt hits you like a truck.

Would he believe you? Would he laugh you off? Would he even like what he sees?

The thoughts raced until he opened up the door, reveling himself to you. Then you could only stare in shock.

That was your Johnny.

Older, yes. But that was him. Banged up with more scars, he looks tired yet wears his age well, you just wish you could’ve seen him grow older alongside you… But that’s your Johnny alright.

His eyes drag from the floor to meet yours and he offers you a small smile. It’s enough to shoot the air back into your lungs and for your heart to beat again. The tears starts to leave your eyes and your hands shoot up to wipe them away.

Johnny takes a good look at you and particularly that golden wedding band that he supposedly gave you. It’s still always been his dream to marry a girl like you, in some odd way he feels proud that in another life he got you. A gorgeous, caring and devoted wife that he could love up and spoil. Johnny knows himself and in any life, he would do the same: wife up a woman like you. Looks like he did. Looks like he still could.

“I ‘eard what ye said.” He softly speaks. You close your eyes at the sound. It feels so good to hear him again. A little different, but it’s still him.

“Bonnie, ye don’t have to cry.”

He steps forward to cup your face, wiping your tears away with his fingers. You place your own hands over his, keeping him there. Having him touch you again, it’s better than anything you could have ever prayed for. This is all you think about and to finally have it all come true. Even if it’s just for a second, you’d trade it all away.

“My wife, eh?” Johnny jokes to try and lighten the mood. You look up into his eyes and laugh with a smile despite the tears still leaking. He doesn’t mind, he wipes them still anyway.

“It’s so good to see you again.” You confess, a hand leaving his to touch his scarred face. From his cheeks, a thumb over his chin and his lips. He’s so hard to look away from, how handsome he grew up to be. His gaze and attention makes you bite your lip out of habit. A blush flooding your cheeks- he still has the same effect on you. Damn.

The feeling goes straight to your core, and you react before you can think. Bringing your face to his, foreheads resting against each others while your hands explore his back and shoulders, his neck and through his hair. Something he used to love, and it makes you whine a little when he moans at the feeling. He loves your touch just as much.

“Lass, yer doin’ somethin’ wild to me.” Johnny stumbles out, his hands coming to rest on your waist, pulling you in until you’re flush with his body. He feels so good, so toned under his clothes and solid. You didn’t want him to stop, your mind starting to spin.

He runs his hands up your sides, gliding your shirt up to touch the bare skin underneath. The slightest touch has you moaning his name out and he can’t help but swell with pride as he sees this gorgeous, young girl before him come apart, desperate for more of him. His ego has never felt so big until this moment.

“Johnny…”

“What do y’a need?” He mumbles out against your lips, brushing them with just enough touch to set your skin on fire, begging for more.

“Kiss me.” You lean further into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. It’s all too much, and yet you want more. God, you knew that if he were to take you right here in this room, you’d come undone within a minute. Easily. Happily.

“Please.”

“Well- what the wife wants, the wife gets.” He chuckles as he clashes his lips to yours, his large frame utterly engulfing your small one. The way he uses your title so easily, wife- you can’t help but need more of him everywhere, all over like a wife deserves from her husband. Your own hands itching for more of him to touch, your mouths moving together, tongues finding each other as he hums against you.

Johnny guides you and gently backs you up against the wall, a hand protecting your head as your body meets it. You try to pull him even closer to you, grabbing at his clothes when you realize you need him completely bare. It’s been so long since you’ve felt good, only ever wanting your husband. And now here he is just for you. You wonder if he’s even better now with his age... Hard to tell without a test drive.

But it’s only when you need to part for air that some of reality comes back to you.

Guilt.

“Wait, Johnny.” The alarm bells go off in his head and he looks at you worriedly.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his eyebrows crease you immediately try to calm him. Another kiss to his lips and he eases up a bit. Just like he used to.

“I need to know. Do you- do you already have someone? A wife?”

Your nerves hit once more. He could still have someone in this universe or wherever you are. And even like this, you couldn’t be that woman that ruins a marriage. Even if he does feel rightfully yours.

Johnny smiles a bit at the question before glancing downward, almost as if he’s shy or embarrassed.

“Nay, never did.” He starts before taking your cheeks back into his hands, looking into your eyes.

“Just you.”

The biggest smile breaks out on your face, your hands tugging at his shirt to bring his lips back down to yours. He feels good, warm, right. Yours. Still yours. Always yours.

“I know I’m a little young, but that doesn’t bother you, does it?” You ask with a slight smirk against his lips.

Johnny just laughs, his hands working their way down your body to cup your ass almost possessively.

“Certainly not.” His eyes looking all over your face, taking you all in. Gods, you’re gorgeous and all his? He could still hardly believe it, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least get to know you and try to make it all work with you. He owes that much to himself.

“Does it bother you?”

“Hmm? You being older?” You ask innocently.

Johnny only nods, still admiring your beautiful face, his girl.

You shake your head no, not daring to look away from his gaze.

“I think it’s sexy, Sergeant John MacTavish.” You quip teasingly.

A groan escapes his lips, his pants straining against him almost painfully at this point. He needed you now or he might combust.

“This room or mine?” Johnny whispers, bringing his knee in between your legs and his mouth to your ear.

“And it’s Captain now, bonnie. Make a decision or I’ll make one for ya. Put on a show.” He glances to the two-way mirror and a nervous giggle leaves your lips.

Your husband most certainly would do such a thing.

-

Johnny was sure to make you use his proper title as he properly had you in bed, as well as used yours.

And with your volume and his reach, everyone on the base now knew he had a wife.

Things were complicated, sure, but you two would figure it out. He knew you both wanted to give it a try and were both willing despite it all.

And after a few weeks, he decides that all there’s left to do is buy a ring of his own that’ll match yours.

[pathologicalreid]

what about Spencer x reader in a relationship and readers struggling with drug addiction?

and now i have to act like i can't read your mind | S.R.

your sobriety is broken by an old 'friend', and spencer's there to help you navigate a new reality

who: spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst, hurt/comfort content warnings: drug use, being drugged, spencer's addiction (pre-s12, i was thinking s9), attempted sa, probably inaccurate bc i've never been a drug addict (only dated one), rehab, sobriety, self harm and death. hospitals. take care while reading. word count: 2.6k a/n: i love you cool about it i love you boygenius i love you spencer reid

You could hear your own heartbeat, it was so loud that, for a moment, you could convince yourself that your heart was migrating through your body. The cold of the bathroom tiles sept into your skin as you willed it to cool down the rest of your body. Your inability to recall how you ended up on the bathroom floor didn’t concern you, the only thing you could think of was getting the rest of your body to feel as cold as the bathroom floor.

And then the knocking on the door woke you up. Quick, frantic knocks at the bathroom door jolted you awake as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, “Y/N, open the door,” Spencer said from the other side of the door.

Against your better judgment, you didn’t move to open the door. “I don’t have anything,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as they struggled to focus in the bathroom, only a nightlight available to illuminate the small space. You sat up, using the edge of the bathtub as a backrest as you took a deep breath, imagining air swirling through your lungs as you did so.

“Baby, you have to open the door for me,” he begged, fidgeting with the door handle. At some point in your exhaustion, you must have broken the number one rule in your apartment – no locked doors. Obviously, he hadn’t heard your response, because he just continued to knock, “I need to know that you’re okay.”

Besides a crick in your neck from sleeping on the mosaic tile, you were fine, but Spencer didn’t wait for an answer from you before swinging the door open, the key still in the lock. “I’m fine,” you told him, but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking around the bathroom. “There’s nothing in here,” you said, knowing he’d still look.

After he had done a once over of the bathroom, he crouched in front of you, “You fell asleep in the bathroom?” His brows were furrowed in concern as he hooked a finger beneath your chin and tilted your head to the side, inspecting the imprint the tiles had made on your cheek.

You nodded dejectedly, “I didn’t feel well, I must’ve locked the door on instinct, but I…” Your voice trailed off, thinking about the bathroom in your dream. “I was in the bathroom?”

Spencer gave you a confused look, “You’re still in the bathroom?” He responded, feeling your head with the back of his hand as if he was checking for a fever.

“No, at the bar,” you clarified, “I was in the bathroom.”

He swallowed thickly, studying your expression for a moment before answering, “Yeah, that’s where they found you.”

‘They’ being the group of college friends that you had gone out with last weekend, just a small get-together while a few of them were in town. It had been a perfectly fine outing until one of them had slipped something in your drink, knowing your history with drugs, he had thought he could brush it off by telling people you relapsed.

Ten years. Ten years clean. Ten years without a pill. Ten years reduced to six days, just because a guy you went to college with wanted a quick fuck.

But his business degree hadn’t taught him how to measure the drugs he had gotten from god knows where, and in the process, he nearly killed you. You excused yourself to the bathroom where you promptly keeled over, hitting the ground hard enough to bruise the side of your body.

A college girl, who you’d never be able to thank, had found you and called an ambulance, and one of your friends had called Spencer.

You reached up and wiped at your face, “I didn’t take the drugs,” you mumbled, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer told you, reaching out and gingerly resting a hand on your shoulder. He had been your biggest advocate in the hospital, requesting new nurses if any of them even dared to look at you funny, turning away visitors on your behalf, and letting you cry into his shoulder when he had to be the one to explain what happened.

Spencer had been the one to insist something was wrong, his rational mind couldn’t find any justification for why you would try to overdose on ketamine after being off narcotics for a decade. Without leaving your bedside, he asked the BAU to get security footage from the bar, and just like that, you were no longer a strung-out addict but a victim.

You didn’t remember much of anything from that night, bits and pieces came back to you in flashes, but you’d have to learn to be okay with never having memories of that night. You had lost something so dear to you, and you were struggling with trying to choose if it was better to have no memory or to remember everything.

The hospital staff kept you overnight, waiting for the drugs to leave your system until Spencer brought you home. He was taking time off to stay with you, taking every snide remark that you threw in his direction because he knew. He knew you were retaliating against what had happened to you, and he knew that none of the anger you felt was genuinely directed at him.

Once you had gotten home, the first thing you told Spencer was that you wished he had killed you.

The only person in your life who would understand was Spencer, but he still had to take precautions. He changed the code on his gun safe, all sharp objects were now out of reach, and when he searched the bathroom earlier, he was looking for something you could use to hurt yourself.

Resting your chin on your knee, you sighed and closed your eyes. You looked outside the bathroom, the faint glow of a lamp emanating from the bedroom, “What time is it?”

“Almost four,” Spencer answered, that would be four in the morning then.

You still had a few hours before you needed to get up and face the day, there were therapists to see and NA meetings to attend. “Are you going to work today?” You opened your eyes to see that Spencer had joined you in sitting on the floor.

He shook his head, “No, I’m gonna stay with you for at least a few more days.”

A certain kind of guilt built in your stomach when Spencer stayed away from work on your behalf like you were dooming people by keeping him from the FBI. “Maybe you should just have me committed,” you told him, wrapping your arms around your knees, trying to make yourself seem as small as possible.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” he said, giving you a knowing look. “Do you think that’s your next step? In-patient rehab?”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you tightened your grip on your legs, “You could go back to work if you didn’t have to stay back and babysit me.”

The dim lamp from the bedroom cast abstract shadows across his face, “I’m not particularly concerned about work right now.”

Pulling yourself up from the floor, you turned on the tap and splashed your face with cold water before switching the water off. “You and I know you don’t get enough PTO to keep staying home with me,” you snatched a washcloth from the towel bar, pressing the cotton to your skin and groaning.

“I’ve worked it out,” he responded, providing you with no more details – they weren’t strictly necessary.

Setting the towel back in its place, you sniffled before turning to face him, “Give Dave his PTO back, Spencer.”

Rising to his feet, he looked at you with misery in his eyes – misery you had caused. “It’s already gone through to HR, and for the record, everyone pitched in to help, Y/N.”

“God, fuck the record! I don’t care if the director himself came to you and gave you more time off, you don’t need it,” you told him, dramatically trudging out of the bathroom with Spencer following close behind.

Instead of meeting his eyes, you focused on his hair, a single strand had fallen across his forehead. “I can’t in good conscience leave you alone. Baby, you have to understand that. I know how you’re feeling right now.”

You scoffed, “You have no fucking idea what I’m going through right now.”

That wasn’t technically true though. Spencer sighed, taking each of your hands into his, “Being victimized-“

“Don’t call me that,” you interjected, flinching at the word he chose to use.

Spencer paused for a moment, squeezing your hands reassuringly before speaking again, “In this situation, you’re a victim first and an addict second. You’re being deposed because you’re the victim of a crime that the state is taking to trial. I know you hate the word, and if I have to be the one to desensitize you to it, then I’m alright with that.”

You’d previously asked about being allowed to provide a written statement instead of being presented in court, but you were still waiting for a response. In the meantime, you needed to make a decision on whether or not you wanted to make a tort claim. “I don’t want to be,” you breathed, wishing you could turn back time.

“I know,” he whispered, “and it’s not fair. None of this is fair to you, but you’re not seventeen and being prescribed oxycodone by a surgeon. You’ve been dealt a hand of cards for a game you never wanted to play in the first place, and I’m so sorry for that.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked at him, blinking back tears when you accidentally met his eyes, “How… no it’s- never mind.”

Spencer frowned, “Stop doing that,” he spoke gently.

“Doing what?” You asked, leaning back against the bed, using the mattress for support.

He knelt in front of you, allowing you to maintain the upper hand, “Starting to open up and then shutting yourself down. You’re filtering your words, and I’d rather you hurt my feelings than stay silent,” he reassured you, “I can take it.”

Pursing your lips, you peered down at him, “How do you cope with it?”

“Cope with what, baby?”

Taking a deep breath, you looked at him thoughtfully, “The loss of autonomy,” you answered. “That… that was how it started for you, right? Being drugged? How do you cope with having that decision forcibly taken away from you? Because, right now, all I can think of is lashing out in some way to try to reclaim my autonomy.”

“Like hurting yourself?” He asked, peering up at you through his eyelashes.

There had been moments where you considered it, things like putting your hand on the kettle when you made tea. You wanted an external wound that you could use to somehow convey the hurt you felt internally. “Yes,” you breathed, the answer escaping from your lips before giving it a second thought, “Or taking something.” A city like D.C. was never lacking in narcotics dealers – you just had to know where to go.

Spencer frowned, “It’s always been different for me than it was for you. I think it’s important for you to remember that yes, your choice was taken from you that night, but every day and every night since then you have made the choice to protect yourself.”

You sniffled, leaning your head onto your shoulder to wipe tears from your cheeks, “I keep trying to convince myself that one day I’ll forget about it, but I know that’s not true and I- I’m having a really difficult time,” you admitted with watery eyes.

“I know,” Spencer cooed, “I know, c’mere.” He slowly rose to sit next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms and allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder, tears seeping through the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

His fingers gently skimmed over your spine, causing you to melt into him, “I hate him,” you whispered, wringing your hands as Spencer held you close.

He hummed, “What happened to you does not erase the fact that you were sober for ten years. Do you understand that?” Pausing for a moment, Spencer continued his ministrations on your back, gently rocking back and forth, “You should hate him. You’re allowed to be angry at the situation you’re in, I never want you to think that you can’t express how you’re feeling to me because you’re worried I’ll have you committed.”

“Keep holding me,” you murmured, soaking in the physical contact like a sponge. Other than holding your hands or a hand on your back to guide you, Spencer had been wary of touching you. He was worried about triggering a memory you didn’t know you had, but you’d found yourself wanting him to hold you tightly enough so that you couldn’t break even if you wanted to. “I don’t want to go to rehab,” you told him, keeping your voice just loud enough for him to hear.

Adjusting the way you were sitting, you looked up at him to see that tears of his own had formed in his eyes, “Then no rehab. You have the coping skills that you need to get through this, and I’m going to be here the whole time.”

Your therapist had likened this to a bump in the road, but it felt more equivalent to a sinkhole. “Are we going to be alright?” You asked with a note of hesitation in your voice. There were a lot of tribulations that came with an addict dating another addict, but you and Spencer had always felt stronger together as opposed to apart.

“Yes,” he answered easily as if he had given it thought already, “You and I are going to be just fine. It’s just going to take time.”

You groaned, separating yourself from him and laying back on the bed, “How much time?”

He smiled softly down at you, “As much time as it takes.”

“That’s a horrible answer,” You told him, following his movements with your eyes as he lay down next to you. “You’re supposed to tell me that the power of our love can overcome anything.”

Propping his head up so that he could see you better, Spencer studied your bloodshot eyes, “I love you so astronomically much,” he whispered across the pillows. “There will never be a day where my heart is not full of love for you,” he told you, reaching across the bed to skim his fingers across your cheek.

You melted into your pillow, watching him curiously, “Will you promise to tell me if my recovery becomes too much for you?” Pulling the inside of your cheek between your molars, you awaited his answer, afraid of jeopardizing his sobriety in the name of regaining your own.

He nodded, “I promise that I will tell you if I need to take a minute to protect myself, but you don’t need to worry about censoring yourself to protect me.”

Closing your eyes you nodded, “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. You have done nothing wrong,” he insisted, opening his arms as you shuffled across the mattress to him. “You never have to apologize to me, not for this.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, you absentmindedly traced shapes on his chest with your pointer finger, “Everything feels so… wrong.”

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “It will all level out eventually. The sky can’t fall forever.”