#like he’s already so loving toward henry

[i-know-the-endss]

i don’t think we talk enough about alex’s little smile in the background as henry talks about his dreams of who he would be in the world.

[aemiron-main]

Thinking about baby patty 20 dead 40 wounded

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: I Choose You

Request: Anonymous said: "jealous tyler or jealous reader would be interesting to read 👀"

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none!

A/N: not sure how i feel about this one but I gave it a go and wanted to make sure I posted!

Tyler tells himself that he’s over thinking… maybe even reading too much into things. 

But God, he swears he isn’t imagining the way that you and the reporter he’d agreed to let tag along for the next week naturally interact with one another with such ease. 

Tyler is not a jealous person– he’s confident and secure and he trusts you. Jealousy is petty and it’s stupid. And Tyler’s been trying his whole life to prove to himself and everyone around him that he’s not stupid.

Tyler has a loose shock to repair before the storm they’ve been tracking rolls in later that day. He’s currently laying on the dirt at the rest stop they’ve pulled in, with a wrench in his hand. Dani’s shining their flashlight for him, and it’s important he stays focused. And he tries… really, he does. 

But Tyler looks up just as the reporter laughs at a joke you’ve made. And then, he reaches out to touch your arm for the added effect. Tyler nearly drops the wrench he’s holding on his face at the sight. 

“Easy, T,” Dani says, studying him closely. 

He takes a deep breath before looking back towards the truck. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Dani asks, kicking his shoulder gently with their boot. 

“Nothing,” Tyler grumbles in a tone that screams there is absolutely something wrong. Thankfully Dani doesn’t push. 

…

Throughout the rest of the week, Tyler tries to talk himself down whenever jealousy rears its ugly head. He keeps telling himself that he’s being irrational– you’re not flirting with the reporter everytime you walk with him into the gas stations they stop at, or offer to ride with him in the van instead of Tyler’s truck, where you normally sit. You’re just trying to be friendly… make him feel at ease. 

But did he really have to look at you that way while you studied the GPS monitoring system? Or share his fucking cookies with you when everyone ate lunch in the field? And did you have to laugh so loudly at every single joke he made?

Tyler finds out on the second night he’s tagging along that Henry’s a fucking Columbia grad on top of a stupid self-proclaimed comedian. The two of you are sitting around the fire talking about graduate degrees when Henry turns towards him. 

“Did you two meet at school then?” Henry asks.  

Tyler smiles, but instead of warmth it’s laced with sarcasm. “Nope, I don’t have one of those fancy degrees, Henry. In fact, none of us but her do.” 

Henry turns back towards you and proceeds to ask more questions about your time studying meteorology at the U of A. Meanwhile, Tyler is left to simmer in his own self pity, wondering if it bothered you that he isn’t educated like Henry. 

Tyler has to spend the rest of the week fighting the urge to make it known you’re his– he’s had thoughts of keeping a permanent hand planted on your waist right in front of Henry. Maybe if he pulled you in for a kiss a little more often, and really claimed you as his, this guy would back the hell off. 

But Tyler quickly shakes away the thought. 

Because claiming you like an object is stupid, and Tyler is not stupid. 

…

Tyler grabs you a coffee from the nearest gas station and brings it back to the motel because he’s really trying to move past all this shit. You’re sitting with Lilly and fiddling with the drone when he tries to hand it to you. 

You offer him an appreciative smile that warms his entire chest. Tyler’s definitely been overreacting, because you’re looking at him with such love and admiration in your eyes. 

“Thanks, but I’ve already had some today,” you say, crushing every hope inside of him in an instant. “Why don’t you give it to Dani?  They take their coffee the same as I do.”

“When did you have time to get coffee?” he asks, trying to play it cool. 

You reply so simply, like the words don’t slice right through his heart. “I didn’t, Henry brought me one.”

Tyler’s jaw tightens. It’s a gesture you don’t notice, because you’re too busy focusing on the drone half in your lap. 

What you do seem to notice, is the way he scoffs. It makes yours and Lilly’s heads both turn. 

But before you can reply, Tyler’s already walking away. He clutches the coffee firmly in his hand and without a word, drops the full cup in the trash can outside the motel. 

…

Tyler has to remind himself that he’s not angry.

At least not at you.  

You and him have a great relationship. He trusts you and that’s all there is to it. Whether it’s Henry or whoever else–  you never gave Tyler a reason to be worried. 

But Tyler doesn’t like the way seeing you with the reporter makes him feel. Because at any moment, you could leave him for someone with a more respectable career– someone with fair skin and button up polos who just looked like they had their shit together. Someone with a college degree… someone a hell of a lot smarter than him. 

Seeing you with him made Tyler feel vulnerable, like he had something to lose– because he had everything to lose. 

…

The crew spends another week chasing in Oklahoma. The season’s winding down, but they still managed to catch two EF0s and an EF1. 

Tyler’s been avoiding you for most of the week. He’d offer the truck space to Boone and Lilly, he’d sit next to Dexter around the fire at night… hell, he would hardly even look at you. 

You turned down his coffee earlier in the week. Only after the fact did you realize that you should have just taken the damn thing. You understand that rejecting him after he went out of his way to do something nice for you hurt his feelings… But you can’t understand how that turned into an entire week of the silent treatment. 

On numerous instances, you try to approach him. But he always has somewhere to run off to. 

“I gotta help Dani with the van’s oil change.”

“I gotta see if Boone got the footage we need.”

“I gotta give Dexter a hand with the radar.”

You’re getting sick of it. 

You try to distract yourself for the rest of the week– you ask Lilly to explain more about how to work her drone, you keep on top of the radar– looking for forming storm cells, and you try to make the reporter Tyler had invited along for the week feel welcome. 

Henry’s nice– he’s completely new to storm chasing and has loads of questions all the time. You find it slightly annoying that he’s so interested in Tyler… but you get it. And even though you’re a little irritated with Tyler for your week-long silent-treatment sentence, you still want him to sound as good as possible in the article, so you talk him up every chance you can. 

You know that this lack of communication can’t last. And the second Henry goes back to Boston to write his piece, you plan to corner Tyler and force him into telling you what the hell you’d done wrong. But until then, you don’t want to cause a scene. So, you sit back, spend more time talking with Henry about Tyler, and try like hell not to lose your mind.

…

It’s more for his own sanity than anything. It’s like seeing you with Henry has caused this sudden realization to pop into his head… You can do better– and honestly you deserve better than him. The thought is all consuming. It makes focusing on anything else incredibly difficult. 

“You gonna tell us what the hell is up?” Lilly asks one day. 

Tyler’s currently standing in the bed of his truck, tinkering things that didn’t really need to be fixed just to stay busy. 

“What do you mean?” he replies without looking up.

“I mean are you going to tell us why you two love birds haven’t spoken in like three days?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler notices Boone glancing his way with an expression on his face that says he was wondering the same thing. 

“We’ve spoken,” Tyler says dismissively. 

“Telling her you don’t have room for her in the truck doesn’t count,” Lilly retorts. “C’mon, seriously, Ty. What’s wrong?”

Tyler sets his tool down and looks down at Lilly. “Nothing is wrong.”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Okay, well are you sure she knows that? Cause Dani and I saw her crying in the bathroom.” 

Tyler lets out a long exhale– the thought of you upset instantly filling his insides with sorrow. But the thought that he was the one to make you upset is even worse. 

“I know it’s not my business,” Lilly adds. “But I’ve been watching you give her the silent treatment all week, and that’s not going to fix anything. I know Henry’s still here and it’s been a crazy week–”

Tyler can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips at the mention of Henry’s name.

Lilly pauses before a look of understanding washes over her. “You’re pissed that she’s been hanging with Henry.” She says it as a statement instead of a question. 

“I’m not–”

“I’ve known you for six years, don’t even try to deny it. You are– you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

With his lips pursed in a thin line, Tyler raises an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I am. Does that make you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”

Now it was Lilly’s turn to scoff. “Of course it doesn’t make me happy. You’re being an idiot.”

“What?” 

“I said that you’re being an idiot,” Lilly says, annunciating each word insultingly. 

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “I’m well aware that I’m an idiot, but thanks for reminding me.”

“I said you’re being an idiot, Tyler. Not that you are one. Now stop sulking and fucking listen for once in your goddamn life.”

It’s so out of the ordinary for Lilly to snap that Tyler actually does shut his mouth. 

“You invite a reporter on the road with us and then you don’t give him the time of day to answer any of the questions he has. You’re short and curt and to be honest, kind of fucking rude anytime he asks you anything. Y/N is being polite– and she’s hosting the guest you invited along. So don’t fucking blame her just because you’re insecure.” 

Tyler can feel the anger rising in his own chest, he wants to get defensive– to snap back at Lilly. But deep down, he knows she’s right, so he stifles any comebacks and instead hangs his head. 

Lilly sighs. “You’re not an idiot, Tyler. So stop acting like one.”

…

After letting Lilly’s words really sink in, Tyler decides that she’s right. For the first time all week, he’s motivated to actually talk with you and make things right. 

Or at least he is right until he sees Henry approaching you in the parking lot. He’s too far away to hear what Henry has to say. But he’s not so far away that he doesn't see the folded up piece of paper that he passes you. 

In an instant, everything Lilly had said– along with all the things he’s said to convince himself he’s been overreacting flies away with the wind. Because Henry just gave you his fucking phone number. 

Tyler turns– needing to get as much space from whatever exchange he just witnessed as he possibly can. In a few, long, angry strides, Tyler reaches his truck and climbs inside. In the distance, he hears Lilly call after him. But he pretends he doesn’t hear. Instead, he slams the door shut, starts the ignition and drives away. 

…

“Where’s he goin’?” Boone says just as you approach him and the rest of the crew. 

“Dunno. He didn’t say anything to you?” Dani asks, turning towards Lilly. 

She shakes her head, eyes squinting against the bright sun. 

“What the hell is his problem?” you say frustratedly, biting back tears. 

Stupidly, you’d let yourself get your hopes up earlier in the day when Tyler had offered you a small smile over breakfast. You had thought that maybe things were alright, and that he was finally over whatever had been bothering him so badly. 

But now you’re standing in the cloud of dust he just left behind after taking off in his truck without a word to anyone and you know that isn’t the case. 

“Here I was thinking I helped last night,” Lilly says under her breath. 

You snap your head in her direction. “You talked to him?”

She shrugs. “I tried to.” 

“Did he say why he’s been so upset?”

Lilly hesitates. And truthfully, you understand why. Everyone here was Tyler’s friend first. You were the last to join the crew– inducted into the group just by being Tyler’s girlfriend. They have no obligation to be loyal to you over Tyler. 

“Forget it,” you say defeatedly, turning away as soon as you feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes. “It doesn’t even matter.” With that, you make your way towards the RV, painfully aware of everyone’s eyes trained on you the entire way. 

…

Tyler drives to the nearest gas station, desperate for space to clear his head. 

He knows he’s being dramatic and irrational at this point, but if he stayed at that rest stop another second, he didn’t know what would come out of his mouth. He really really had to get it together. But he can’t escape the fear inside of him– the one saying that meeting Henry helped you recognize that you could do so much better than him.

And now you had his phone number, to reach out whenever that realization hit. 

Why wouldn’t you be interested in Henry? He’s got a goddamn master’s degree from Columbia, he writes articles for the Globe, works out every morning before they go chasing–  apparently makes hilarious jokes… 

Tyler rests his forehead against the steering wheel and groans.

…

Tyler’s gone for an hour. But when he finally parks the truck back at the rest stop, he hasn’t shaken the sinking feeling inside of him. 

In a preemptive attempt to avoid questions he had snagged a bunch of snacks from the nearest gas station. If you ask where he’s been, he can just say he had a hankering for potato chips and call it good. 

Except, you don’t even look at him when he gets out of the truck. Boone’s got corn hole set up in the dirt. It looks like Boone and Henry versus Dani and Dexter while you watch. He only watches for a moment before bringing the bag of snacks into the RV. 

Secretly, Tyler’s been simultaneously excited for and dreading the end of the week. He’s excited for Henry to leave and excited to sleep in his own bed. But he’s dreading being back in your shared house. It’ll be the first time the two of you are forced to be alone, and he knows he’ll have to find the words to describe what he’s been feeling. 

But apparently Tyler’s stupid, because he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. 

All he knows is that he doesn’t want to lose you. And seeing you with Henry makes him feel like he’s about to lose you. Tyler doesn’t know how to say that to you without coming across as a total lunatic.  

…

You don’t want to cause a scene at the rest stop. But the minute you see Tyler head for the RV, you’re out of your seat and beelining it towards him while the rest of the team is distracted.

As soon as you hoist open the door, you find him hunched over the fridge, grabbing a water bottle. 

“What the hell?” is all you can manage to blurt out. You’re fuming and on the verge of tears. But you can’t help it– Tyler’s silent treatment has just about pushed you to the edge. 

Tyler whips around at the sound of your entrance… and maybe it was a little dramatic– but you need to get your point across. 

There’s a long pause while Tyler’s eyes study you. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

You’re met by more silence.  

“This is ridiculous, Tyler. Will you just talk to me?”

Finally, Tyler scoffs, “The reporter gave you his number, right?  Why don’t you talk to him?  I’m sure he’d love to talk.”

In an instant, a wave of understanding washes over you. But it isn’t overshadowed by the anger you feel. 

“Are you serious right now? You’re jealous of Henry?”

He shuts the fridge before cracking open his water bottle dismissively, ignoring your questions. 

“Tyler, are you forgetting that you’re the one who invited him with us this week? I mean, did you think he was just supposed to sit back and observe? He’s a reporter, of course he’s going to have questions… Questions that you were way more qualified to answer, but you were too busy being a jerk all week to answer any of them. So I did it for you–”

“I never asked for you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to– I did it for you!” you cry. “I did it so that he’d write you a good story– because you deserve that.” 

“Oh, how convenient. So you two just get along so well for my sake then?” he says. 

You exhale sharply. “Are you kidding me right now? We’ve spent the last week talking about you! I’ve been talking you up– telling him stories about what you do– how good you are at what you do– all the people you’ve helped–”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Yeah right,” he scoffs. 

You pause, anger slowly melting away at the realization that he genuinely didn’t believe anything you were saying. 

“Tyler,” you say seriously. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Henry. I’ve been answering his questions and telling him how fucking brave and generous and smart you are–”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps, voice cracking just slightly. “Just forget it, it doesn’t matter.” He sets his water bottle on the counter before moving to step by you. 

“Tyler stop–” you say, reaching for him. But he’s too quick. He reaches the door before you’re able to stop him. 

“Will you please stop walking away from me!” you blurt out frustratedly, tears forming in your eyes. “You’ve been running from me all week– I just… I just want to talk about this. Please–”

Tyler doesn’t turn to face you, but to your relief, he stops before opening the door. 

“There is nothing happening between me and Henry, Tyler. I mean, I promise you, absolutely nothing– I… I don’t know how else to convince you. But there’s nothing going on. I’m not into Henry–”

“I know,” he says quickly, eyes squeezing shut. 

You let your mouth fall open, confusion washing over you. “What?” 

“I know there’s nothing happening between you and Henry– I trust you and I believe you.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “So why are you so mad at me?”

Tyler pauses and bites his lip before saying, “I’m not mad at you–” he tries to explain. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I don’t understand why–”

You sigh. “Tyler, you’re not making any sense–”

Tyler’s face twists in anguish. “Why aren’t you into him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s everything I’m not. And I mean– Seeing you with him– it just made me realize that you can do so much better than me,”  Tyler says desperately, the pain almost palpable in his voice. “He’s got the fancy degree– he’s obviously smart–”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence, because the idea of anyone ever being better than Tyler was even more ludicrous than him being jealous in the first place. “Tyler, you’re smart–”

“I didn’t go to Columbia. I didn’t even finish my first year of undergrad.”

“I don’t care about any of that– you know I don’t–”

“Why?” he blurts out harshly, finally turning to look at you. “Why do you even want me when you can have someone like him?”

Tyler didn’t think he was good enough for you– and that admission broke your fucking heart. In an instant, all the reasons you loved Tyler flow through your head. There’s so many, you can’t even keep up. 

So instead, you reach into your pocket and pull out the note Henry had given you just hours earlier– the one Tyler apparently saw him give you. He watches as you unfold the piece of paper, quickly revealing that it’s not a phone number. 

“It’s his mom’s cookie recipe,” you explain. “The ones you refused to try. I talked to him about how you have a sweet tooth, and I said how much you love chocolate chip cookies, so he wrote it down for me. I thought I might be able to make them for you when we got home. Because I love you– and I love doing things that will make you happy. Because that’s what you do for me– you make me happy. All the time, just by existing.”

You watch as the realization washes over him.  

You sigh. “Did you ever stop and think about how I feel the same about you?”

He pauses before looking at you questioningly. 

“I mean, you’re you,” you say, gesturing towards him. “People adore you, Tyler. And rightfully so– but I’m always worried you’ll find someone better. But I don’t get hung up on it, because I trust you. I trust that you mean it when you tell me you love me and you choose me. And I need you to do the same for me, Tyler. I need you to trust me. Because I love you– and I always will.”

Tyler exhales, his eyes watery. 

“Can you do that?” you plead. 

To your relief, after a moment, he nods. 

You don’t hesitate before closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his middle. You lay your head on his chest just as his arms wind around your shoulders in an attempt to make up for all the hugs you’ve missed out on this week. Because as much as you love chasing in Oklahoma or Texas, your absolute favorite place to be is at home in his arms. 

“Cookie recipe, huh?” he muses above you, chin resting on top of your heads. 

You nod. “I’m a horrible baker, but I was going to give it a shot.”

Tyler tightens his grip around you. “Well horrible baker or not, I love you and I choose you.”

You let your eyes fall shut and inhale the familiar, comforting scent of him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” you say honestly. 

[f10werfae]

Daddy’s babies

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader

summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.

Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.

“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.

“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”

“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.

“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.

“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”

“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”

Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”

Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.

“You sure?”

“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”

Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”

“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”

“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”

Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.

“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.

“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”

“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.

“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”

“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.

“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”

“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.

“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”

“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”

“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.

“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.

With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.

“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.

“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.

“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.

“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”

“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.

Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.

“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”

“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”

“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.

“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”

Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.

“This ok baby?”

“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”

“B-both?”

That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”

Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”

His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.

“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)

“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.

This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.

“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“

“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.

“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”

With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.

“D-don’t touch ‘em”

“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.

“S-sleepy Henry”

“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.

———

PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior

See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶

[muntitled]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

[samcvrpenters]

word count:  1.7k+

pairing:  joe goldberg x fem! reader x love quinn

summary:  ever since the married couple set eyes on you, they both knew that they wanted you for themselves. but, sharing is caring, right?

warnings:  obsession, mentions of sexual content, murder, gore, drugging

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

they first set eyes on you when you walked into sherry’s and cary’s. they had set a party up— mainly for themselves but also for love and joe, and it was more of a congratulations for the birth of henry. they were a little more self-absorbed than others, but joe and love pulled it together in order to stay. after all, this was for henry.

maybe it was something a little unexpected, the fact that there would be so many people there. but it gave them a chance to analyse. more for joe, anyway. he always believed love never truly took in the picture in front of her, which would eventually be the couple’s downfall.

love had actually seen you first. you were in the bathroom, touching up your makeup for the party. you had this beautiful dress on, and love almost couldn’t take her eyes off you. you were simply that stunning— and she almost felt guilty when having those feelings. but then she remembered the whole situation with natalie and she couldn’t find herself caring anymore about what joe thought.

you two got into a rather explicit conversation. you were mainly laughing about the relationship between sherry and cary and how sherry often did her own thing. but it didn’t really matter to you. the only thing that mattered was that you were having a good time. and so was love. 

shortly after the conversation, you excused yourself to go and meet your husband. what the hell were you doing married? you had no reason to be married. she had already declared to herself that you belonged to her. 

as your hand slid around his hip and grasped gently at his blazer with your left hand, joe had finally took sight of you. honestly, you must have been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen before. and he was already flaming with jealousy by the time he watched your lips lock with the person that you were married to. 

he had no reason to be jealous. he shouldn’t even be thinking about you like that in the first place. he was happily married (well, that was up for discussion), and he knew that love would act up if he even locked eyes with you for more than a second. but once she had walked out of the bathroom with her eyes still fixed on your body, joe came to a realisation.

she was just like him.

which meant that whatever joe did, love was most likely to do too. they were both fixated on you already, their infatuation running like a train— directly to the destination which could only be you.

he took her to the side to talk to her. at first, he sounded confrontational and almost annoyed. but with each word that came out of his mouth, he sounded more and more peaceful as his eyes kept flickering towards you. towards the way you ran your hand delicately across your husband’s chest.

“she’s stunning, isn’t she?” love’s comment came almost as quickly as his argument came along, causing him to halt with the comments he was making. of course she had spotted his small glances at you. he was quite obvious. and she had experienced it firsthand before. 

joe wasn’t sure what to say. his hand was placed firmly on love’s side, veins so evident as he gently rubbed at it. of course he had to act like he actually cared about her— even though it was quite the opposite. he hated her for what she was, even if that was an exact replica of himself. but he had to at least act like it.

“get her away from her husband.” joe’s voice is raspy in the ear of his wife, his back turned towards you so that he would be able to whisper freely into her ear without anyone overhearing.

love immediately took to the role as the distraction. she approached you, greeting you with a smile on her face. she was always the extroverted one out of the pair of them, so she had no problem just approaching you like this. she gently took your hand and led you away from him, pulling you to where the drinks were.

she raises the glass to your lips and allows you to drink out of it, letting you sip gently at the liquid inside of it before pulling it away. “nice?” she questions with a hum, her hand still placed on your arm. the physical touch was so much to her. 

“so nice.” your voice is so perfect. so beautiful. you sound like an angel. cliche, she knows. but you’re exactly like that. an angel. you’ve been sent down from the heavens to satisfy her needs and to give her an actual opportunity with her husband to do something they both agree on. 

she can already imagine those nights with you.

your back would be pushed against the wall, her hands roaming up and down her body and her fingernails scratching gently at your skin. maybe she could make you bleed if she was lucky. her tongue would run down the flesh and gently lick up what she had caused, her tongue aching for more of that metallic taste since it was you.

she would hoist you up onto the counter of her kitchen, pushing that lovely little dress you were  wearing up to your hips and above your waist and allowing her lips to touch your inner thighs— those love bites making such a scene for her and joe whenever they would want more of you. they would treat you so well. so much better than that pathetic excuse of a husband.

talking about that husband, joe was certainly doing his job well. his charm was coming through unbelievably fast and was almost so convincing. he wanted him to leave the party so that he could deal with him properly.

he had never acted so fast with murder in his life. but he would be willing to do it for you. he would be willing to stab. to slash. to shoot.

he wanted, so badly, to pull the man to the side and instantly carve out his heart. maybe he would use the knife that he knew was right in the middle of that knife block in sherry and cary’s kitchen. maybe he would dig the blade into the flesh of his chest and push and push until he managed to gently prick the organ that could only feel.

he’d maybe take the liberty of carving out his skin first. he could already imagine it. the blood would be horrific. all over the place, and he would messily detach the heart from any of the veins and arteries and instantly burn it.

he would give anything for that.

but of course, the world didn’t work that way, as your husband just shrugged his comments off and told him that you would have to be off soon.

he didn’t want that to happen. no, he wanted him to be done with. he wanted to shatter that man’s stupid hopes and dreams by ending them and then just fuck you a minute later. maybe that was too much to ask for, but he wanted it.

he could only stand there as your husband dismissed him, before he ended up walking back over to you and love. he introduced himself and then told you that the man over there was looking for you. you nod and smile, and allow yourself to walk back over to him, but not before commenting that it was nice to meet them both.

joe and love would have to plan. 

planning was never a big deal to joe, but to love? it would be different. she never really planned anything out. she wasn’t really that careful with anything but she was willing to listen to her husband to get you. they agreed to share you. after all, it was bringing them closer together. 

she heard that you and… what even was his name? was it alex? she was sure that his name was alex. she heard that you and alex were going on vacation soon. 

so, joe was the one who went over there and mercilessly slashed the tires of the man’s car. he wouldn’t let you leave— there was no way. so much more could happen during that time you were away and he couldn’t let you slip away.

alex told you that he would go out and walk to get a courtesy car— after all, the town was quite small and you wouldn’t necessarily mind if that was the case. you hummed and kissed him on the cheek, waving sweetly at him as he left the house.

you heard a knock on the door almost a few minutes later, revealing love with a box of cupcakes and whatnot. you let her in with a small smile on your face, and she lets you lead her to the table to munch on those sweet desserts. food was definitely bringing the two of you closer together.

joe never had an issue with following people. so following the man that was so stuck to you? not a big deal in the slightest.

he lets himself walk faster as he passes one of the cameras in the town, before pulling alex into the next alley where he was sure there were absolutely no cameras in the slightest and letting himself stab the man in the chest. just like he imagined.

he knew he would have to deal with the body, so he pulls out a small can of gasoline and sprinkles it over the man, before pulling out the lighter and gently setting fire to the body. he makes sure to pull the knife away and keep it stashed in his pocket— all stained with blood. he couldn’t leave any evidence behind. it would just be a random mugging that would end with arson. 

and meanwhile?

that small poison that love had planted into the cake was beginning to make its way through into your body.

what did you expect?

they were so obsessed with you. 

[wandaslullaby]

idea

bestfriends mother!top! wanda x bottom!r

r's bestfriend and r go to a party where r's bsf hooks up with someone and r was making out with a random stranger. when its time to leave r's bestfriend tells r to go home and she'll join later (the bsf decides to hookup w the person)

r goes home pretty late to find wanda still up waiting for her daughter and r. when wanda sees r covered in light red hickeys, she can't help but feel possesive over the young woman.

I kinda of took a twist on it. I really hope you like it!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Test Track || Wanda Maximoff

summary: it's time Wanda made you aware that lurking in corridors and perving on her isn't nice at all.

warnings: 18+ please don't read if you are a minor. overstimualtion, fingering, dom!wanda, manipulation kink, mommy kink, dark wanda.

You wasn't exactly up for going to a party but, Tommy was adamant that it will do you some good. Things have been a little stressful especially with Henry, your boyfriend that was rumoured to be sleeping around with Cassie Lang. You didn't want to believe Billy but you knew that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

"I think I might stay put. I don't really want to see Henry." You mutter under your breath. Tommy was in the mits of debating whether he should wear some eyeliner or not. Putting down the brush, he turns over.

"He might not even be there. There's no way that judgemental prick will be at Peter's party."

"Cassie is best friend's with Kate. Kate is best friend's with Peter. Of course she will be there."

Tommy signed, "I mean you could just stay with my mum? She's just going to be watching I love Lucy and complain about Dad."

You never understood why Vision, Tommy and Billy's dad left Wanda stranded. Wanda was the definition of an god especially the way she was built. Her figure was mesmerising, she always knew how to flaunt her curves and embrace her body. She was a little different to the other mom's, which is why you always hang out here.

Wanda wasn't judgemental towards Tommy, she embraced his differences a long time ago. She was the reason why Tommy was so open about his sexuality, Wanda even admitted that she had a love affair in the 80s.

"Would you mind? I honestly feel like I'll just be bringing the mood down and I know you want to try and impress Flash."

Tommy shook his head, "I'd rather you be comfortable and yourself then being someone you aren't. You know that you shouldn't hide your emotions or fake a smile for anyone."

You charged off the bed and gave Tommy a massive hug. "I love you. Please be safe and wear protection."

"You know I do." He laughed. "I'll just go tell my mum that you are staying. Do you also want to stay over?"

A whole evening with Wanda and the possibilities that were swimming in your mind shouldn't ever be vocalised. You knew that there was something different about you, but you never really questioned the tingly feelings that your clit felt when Wanda wore a swimsuit that one summer's day.

You could still remember the shape of her tits bouncing as she played volleyball in the pool. The wetness that stained your bikini from just watching her made your cheek blush and how you remember how Wanda only had to battled her eyelashes to let a moan rip through your lips.

"Y/N?" Tommy said, waving his hand in your face. "You okay?"

You shivered, "Yes, sorry. I was just day dreaming. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you wanted to sleep over? The spare room is already made up and has pretty much all your stuff there already."

"Yeah I'll stay. I hope Wanda doesn't -"

You were cut off by the women herself, "I hope Wanda doesn't what?"

Frozen in place, the next sentence that left your mouth was definitely a clue that you were somewhat Infatuated by her.

"Y/N? Baby, are you okay?" Wanda giggled, watching you stutter over your words.

"All good, Miss Maximoff." you squealed out before slapping your hand over your mouth.

She just hummed at you, turning her focus to Tommy. "Are you ready to go?"

Tommy nodded, "Yeah. I think Billy is going to meet me there, I think he is going to pick up MJ and Ned."

Wanda frowned but her eyes sparkled with mischeif beneath deep-set eyebrows, "Aren't you going, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, "No. I was going to ask if I can stay here? I won't be a bother. I'll be here in Tommy's room watching reruns of Modern Family."

"Of course you can, baby. You are more than welcome to join me? I will only be alone otherwise."

"Yeah sure. I don't mind. We can watch I love Lucy." You say with too much excitement, causing Tommy to give you a weird look.

"Don't worry, baby. I've got plenty of activities we can do."

After a long, seductive minute Tommy excused himself. "I'm off. I'll see you all soon, please don't scare her away Mom."

"I think she will be just fine, Tommy. Go and have a great time. I'm sure when you are back, Y/N will be begging to never leave this house."

"If you say so." Tommy said, giving you one last hug before sprinting down the stairs. Once you both heard the door shut, Wanda left the room.

"If you know what's best, baby. You would follow and not sit there, with your mouth open." Wanda's voice trailed to your clit, making you jump.

You got up from Tommy's bed and followed Wanda's voice, you were slightly confused on Wanda's words and the fact that she has suddenly started to call you baby. Wanda has never called you that, she would only use that nickname to her own kids.

Once you made it down to the lounge, Wanda was already situated with your favourite snacks and drinks. It was like she knew you were going to stay.

"You aren't very well mannered are you? Lurking in doorways, staring at my tits and not to mention, the mess you made on my sun loungers last week? You are luckily that it smelt good, but disappointed that you didn't apologise to me."

You completely felt undone, beyond embarrassed at the humiliation you just receive from Wanda. Your legs began to wobble in fear, slightly mortified that she caught you red handed being a pervert.

"Nothing to say?" Wanda hummed. "You should probably start with getting your bum over here, and rest over my lap. Someone should treat you how to respect an older women."

You were too stunned to speak. Wanda's eyes began to glow in crimson red, a streak of light hit your head enabling you to walk towards her. You had no idea how you were walking towards Wanda, already bowing to her punishment she was about to give you.

"Now. This won't hurt as much as you think it would. I used to give both my boys this punishment when they were naughty, but since you haven't learnt anything that your lousey mother. It's time for you to really know what happens to bad girls that misbehave."

You obeyed her immediately, not quite knowing how your body was so obedient with Wanda's words but for the sake of your dignity, you laid across Wanda's lap clutching the blanket ready to accept fate.

Wanda began to admire your back, the way you arched was nearly as perfect as she wanted you to be. Your shorts began to detach from your body, feeling the cool air hit your bare bum. She bent down to give the back of your neck a gentle kiss before she slapped your bum with a paddle.

You winced at the pain, muffling your cries as Wanda repeated her action multiple times. The notes that were stuck between your lips were feeding Wanda into only punishing you more. She knew that moans were coming, the way your back arched for her was all the clarification she needed that you were just as she expected you to be, a curious little bunny.

"I'll only stop until you give me a moan, baby. I know you are getting a little agitated, the little patch of wetness forming on your panties is telling you that you should just admit. It's not good for silly girls to deny an orgasm." Wanda whispered, watching you squirm. "I really didn't want to punish you, baby but, how could I not?"

Wanda could hear the muffled cries, she knew that you were overstimulated already. But that only made her want to push you further, see how much she could unleash from you.

When you felt yourself being flipped over, tears were swimming in your eyes. Cheeks all red and puffy, Wanda favourite colour. She cooed you, stroking your cheek with her finger. "Oh my sweet baby. Is Wanda being a little too harsh on you? Is she not being fair?"

You nodded, sniffling as your eyes dropped to where her other hand was going. Words weren't coming out of your mouth, so Wanda assumed that her hand was good to roam. She was shocked by how bare you were, there was no hair in sight which made Wanda's mind burst into ideas.

As you were coming down, not letting yourself get into more of a state. Wanda made an 8 on your lower belly, humming a siren song that she learnt from a spell once. It was a simple tune that apparently lured young girls to give permission to anyone who sings the song access to their mind, soul and body. Wanda never believed in spells or supernatural until coming to Westview, a town that needed a little bit of colour.

"You have such a pretty pussy, baby. I can't believe that you are allowing me to admire it. What would Henry think? Watching how aroused you get from a 40 year old women? Such a naughty girl letting your best friend's mother touch you? Oh the looks you will get from your pupils when they learn that you perved over a mother. You wouldn't even last a day without getting called horrible names."

Wanda was purposely planting sick scenarios in your head, it was all part of the plan to secluded you from life, to only need Wanda. She wanted to fully feed horrible visions of your life if Tommy found out what you were doing. "What would Tommy think as I tell him how soaked you were for his mum? He only ever wanted a friend to have for his own but now, he can't. He would never forgive you for what you are about to let me do. You wouldn't want Tommy to find out would you?"

"N-Never... I won't tell him." You whispered, unsure on how you are allowing Wanda to get into your mind. It was like she was wiping away all the happy memories you had with Tommy replacing them with horrible memories of him hating you. "P-Please.. Don't take Tommy away from me. H-He is all I have..."

Wanda smiled, "That's a lie, bunny. You have me now. I'll be the one to make sure that your life isn't turned upside down."

"T-Thank you, Wanda."

"Let me just take your mind off all that for now? How about you just lay there, and let me take care of this embarrassing situation you've got yourself in."

You allowed yourself to let go, not letting any more happy memories fade as Wanda blew in your face. She waited until you were settled nicely, and slowly began to rub your clit. Wanda made sure that she wouldn't be to nasty, but to really work you to have the best orgasm of your life.

She began to lower her hand, cupping your pussy whilst using her thumb to rub against your clit. Circles were formulating rapidly as Wanda watched your eyes widen as she loosely slipped a finger barely inside, seeing how you would react. Taking her time with you, Wanda's finger wormed her way inside you. Taking in your walls as she explored further inside you, seeing how you would take not only her finger but her rising dildo that suddenly was rising.

Wanda pumped her finger heavy inside you, hearing the muffled moans from your lips as she accidentally let her another finger slip inside you. "You are doing so well, baby. I love how well you are taking my fingers, it's like your pussy was made for me."

You slightly moved your head up, watching Wanda's motions. You couldn't even blink before her fingers disappeared inside you. She continued to plump her fingers inside you, causing a heavy moan to escape your lips catching Wanda's stare.

"Do you want to see baby? Do you want to see how easily I can slide my third finger inside you?" Wanda cooed as she used her free hand to carefully caresses your neck. You watched as Wanda picked up the paste, continuously pumping her fingers inside you. You suddenly felt a nip that cause yourself to throw your head into Wanda's neck, you couldn't explain the sensation that was brewing inside you. It was as something was trying to escape but Wanda's fingers weren't acknowledging your need.

You clutched onto Wanda's hair, crying out for attention as Wanda went faster and harder inside you. The sensation was only building up, causing Wanda to hiss as you pulled her a chuck of hair out. You buried your face in her neck, moaning louder to see if Wanda can hear you but her eyes was so fixated on her fingers pumping you, that it took a loud scream to get Wanda to finally allow her fingers to hit your spot, and sink into the couch as she felt a monsoon of frustration flood her fingers. She felt your body let loose, and your hair slowly releasing her hair whilst you moaned into her chest.

"It's okay, baby." Wanda whispered, gently stroking your back. "Mommy's got you."

[januaryembrs]

SKIN LIKE PUFF PASTRY | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [6]

description: the ONE where you help him grieve another woman + the ONE with the promise

length: 8.04k

warnings: maeves death. grief. Spencer is a sad bby. HOWEVER maybe perhaps some fluff? healing journey! gun, blood, usual cm warnings.

author's note. HERE YOU GO POOKIES. I hope you enjoy now I've put you all out of your misery.

previous chpt | next chpt | series masterlist

'Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry,

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?'

The one where you help him grieve another woman.

It killed her walking up those stairs every day. She knew the gift baskets were piling up, had already had a terse conversation with his neighbour about leaving ‘clutter’ in the hallway, to which she thinks she might have swung at the eighty year old woman if she didn’t think it would cause Spencer problems. 

He had enough on his plate already. Maeve had died, for fuck sake. 

In fact, she almost entirely blew her top when she made it to the top of the steps to see every single one of Garcia’s gift baskets had been moved, the bunches of tulips she’d brought him every other day over the past two weeks gone with little trace other than browning petals scattering his door mat. Even the cookies JJ had baked him, the card Henry had drawn for his uncle Spencer had been moved. 

Bugsy stopped for a second, her head snapping to the door to the right where his neighbour, Miss Cavanaugh, had shuffled out of her apartment in her pink dressing gown, her grey, wispy curls flat against her head as if she’d just rolled out of bed. 

She blinked at the younger girl through thick, bubble-like glasses, her blue eyes annoyed the minute she saw her standing there. 

“You can’t just take people's things, you know, I don’t care if it got in the way of your daily walk, Miriam, those were for Spencer-” Bugsy started, her voice as calm as she could get it even though her scowl spoke for itself. 

“I didn’t touch any of his crap, little lady,” Miriam raised her mottled hand, crooked fingers shushing the outrage Bug had been ready to bark at her, and the women sighed when they realised they might just have another argument like their last one, “Kid was poking around at like six in the morning taking it all in, nearly woke up my dog,”

Bugsy rolled her eyes, “God forbid,” Miriam flipped her the finger which made Bugsy’s jaw drop wide open, shuffling back into her apartment muttering to herself, her mail in her mangled hands, “Old bag,” Bug murmured to herself, but her eyes quickly locked back onto Spencer’s door.

He had been out. Well, he had been into his hallway, but it was something. 

Her legs felt like jelly when she took hesitant steps towards his doorway, her knuckles gently rapping on the wood, a frog crawling into her throat that she tried clearing with a cough. 

“Spencer?” Her voice was soft, melodic, and it made him wince where he sat against the other side of his entrance, his own hair a state of disarray, “It’s me,” 

Of course he knew it was her. He didn’t think a day could ever go by where he wouldn’t know her by the sound of her steps alone. Like he’d grown a sixth sense for these sorts of things, like they were linked by some weird Spidey powers like in the comics she’d brought over to his apartment and begged him to read, because even though he could devour a million words a minute (her words not his) it was the art in it she loved and that forced him to slow down and enjoy the pages. 

He wanted to tell her to go away, but he couldn’t find it in him to ever be so cruel, to dig himself a bigger trench of regret than he already felt. He couldn’t save Maeve, physically could never get the image of her dying from his ginormous, genius brain that held onto every detail, and on top of it, he knew he deserved none of the kindness Bugsy showered him with. He’d heard her come stand outside his door every single morning, heard her knocking with the same worried call of his name at the same time before breakfast. He heard her sigh after ten or so minutes and leave, her retreating footsteps clunking down the stairs sadly. 

She was too good for him. He’d only solidified it that she was so beyond what he deserved, that he could never treat her the way she deserved to be treated, the same way he hadn’t with Maeve. 

Spencer’s self loathing was a poison, slowly devouring him every time he heard her voice, felt her approach through the floorboards, when he’d seen the little notes she’d left on the books she’d dropped off outside his door. Usually they were her reviews on them, a list of pros and cons, her general musings, all things they would have chatted over a bagel if things had been normal between them. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together the way they had like clockwork since she joined the BAU. That was a lie. He could remember, of course he could, it had been four months, three weeks and five days ago, a Monday. He thinks she knocked around 10am. Something like that. 

It was the day before she’d flown to London, actually. She had dropped the boys (the boys being Niko and Sergio) off to his apartment, thanked him a bunch of times for looking after them, given him five months worth of cat litter and kibbles and immediately unwrapped a to-go bag of their favourite pastries from the bakery downtown. He remembered it was close to October because she’d bought over maple buns and they only sold at the beginning of Autumn, and he’d asked if she’d be doing anything for Halloween seeing as their usual plans of a horror movie marathon were being put on pause while she was in England. She wasn’t, and she’d asked to call him instead so they could discuss their favourite trick or treating outfits they’d seen. 

He’d promised her a call, only another case popped up by the time the thirty-first rolled around, and it had never happened. 

Spencer hated how he was able to remember every detail of her face the day she’d left, the warmth of her hug he’d clung onto for months. He hated that day she’d surprised him and he hadn’t even thought to wrap his arms around her because he’d been so stuck feeling the overwhelming shock of seeing her. He hated that he’d made her frown like that, that she had ever doubted that he wanted to see her. But it had felt like he’d been caught cheating, why had it felt like cheating? 

He knew why. He knew why seeing her when he was going out to call Maeve had felt like he was double-crossing her. 

Not that it mattered anymore, he thought bitterly. Because Maeve was dead. And Bugsy had every right to hate him. But she didn’t. Because she was too good. 

He hated himself more than he’d ever thought was possible. 

He heard her sigh, but she didn’t repeat herself. Nor did she leave. Instead, he felt the door rattle behind his own spine as she slumped against the wood, sliding to the floor until she unknowingly leaned against him, little more than a few centimetres from his warmth. 

He heard her pull out something from her bag, and the tell tale slip of paper over paper told him she’d brought a book with her, pre-empting staying longer this time. Spencer wanted to tell her not to bother, because if he got brave enough to open the door to her and see her face, smell her clothes, feel the softness of her hugs, he thinks if he told her every thought bouncing around that aching skull of his, it would all come crashing down around him, and he wouldn’t ever be able to stop telling her how sorry he was. For all of it. For letting her pull away from him when she was grieving. For letting her kiss him that night Derek brought her over, because it was obvious she wanted to forget the whole thing. For pushing her away when she came back from London. For being rude and cold when she wanted answers. For trying desperately to completely detach himself from her, which had only ever made him want to scream in frustration because it hadn’t worked anyway. 

Maeve had died because of him, an innocent woman he’d seen himself falling for if they’d been given the chance had died, and he was still head over heels in terrible, stupid love with Bugsy. 

 They stayed there, her reading and him aching from the inside out, for about seven minutes before her phone rang. He heard her huff, letting it go to answer phone and settling back down with her novel. That is, until her dial tone sprung back to life and she half growled under her breath, assuming she pressed the answer button, and he heard her voice again. 

“Hello?” She said, the slight annoyance bleeding into her words, and Spencer already knew that duty was calling by the way her book thumped to the floor and he could just picture her rubbing over her temple in frustration. “I have an appointment, Hotch, I can be there in a couple hours,” Silence, where he guessed Hotch was chiding her on her tardiness, “No, I know I’m supposed to book these things off- it’s just- it’s a contraceptive implant removal, yeah I really busted my IUD when I broke my arm, it’s not settled since,” Spencer almost smiled on instinct, almost, though he thought even if he did it would look like a bitter grimace because he’d not moved his face in over ten days. But she was a really good liar, and he’d always found that part of her charm. She huffed again, “God, you sound like Emily, yes I’m being safe- we are not having this conversation, Aaron, I’ll get there when I get there,” 

With that, perhaps the only person who would ever be allowed to slam the phone down on Aaron Hotchner in a huff did, and they were left alone in silence again. 

“You shouldn’t ignore their calls for my sake,” He found his voice, even if it was groggy with misuse. He felt her straighten against the wooden door, her shock palpable through the brief moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for just a second too long, as if she was scrambling not to say something else than what came out. 

“Pot, meet kettle,” She murmured back, loud enough he could hear it, and she felt him shuffle behind the door, wanting to smack herself in the face for not feeling him there sooner.

“New case?” He asked, his eyes heavy, his pyjamas days old. He knew he needed to shower, but the minute he’d walked into his apartment everything had felt pointless. 

“Yup.” She breathed in, her shoes brushing against his welcome mat with a scratch as she pulled her knees up to her chest, “Although I think Hotch will stick to Penelope making the calls after today,” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh came from his throat, something she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“What is it?” He replied, and she remained quiet for a second, picking the skin around her nails. 

“I’ll tell you if you open the door,” She bartered, wondering for a second if she’d gone too far and had pushed him back into the hole she was coaxing him out of. 

“Blackmail,” Spencer said, all emotion gone from his voice, and Bugsy winced, “A little on the nose for someone who’s grieving,” 

But she could sense it. The way his syllable raised on the last word, that he was being cynical, not cruel like she’d worried. 

“Think of it as a trade deal,” She humoured him, though she kept her voice soft so he knew she meant no harm, just to cheer him up if it was even possible, “You get your answer, and I get to give you this incredibly boring book that I know you can devour in a half hour and give me the summarised version,” 

He smiled. Weakly, and only for a brief few seconds, because if there was anything that warmed him up from the cold, dark, nothingness place he’d found himself in it was her.

He wished he could dislike the fact she did it so easily, wish he could dislike how simple it was to like her, to feel himself wanting her even in that nothingness place he was crawling through as a lone ranger. He wanted to pull her into him tightly, wanted to let her fuss over him, to apologise until his voice ran even more hoarse, but he couldn’t. He feared if he touched her, she’d be marked for death right then and then; that he’d taint her somehow. And that he could never do. 

Yet, he bent to her will. He stood up, prompting her to do the same, leaving his door on the latch as he pulled it open a crack, enough for her to jimmy the book through, The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy. 

He had read Tolstoy before, of course he had. War and Peace was one of the first books he ever owned in Russian, ironically enough one that he’d read only a few days before they’d driven to Baltimore and he’d met Bugsy for the first time. Yet it was this one she’d given him of all of Tolstoy’s works; the one where the protagonist goes on a journey of acceptance that he’s dying with no explanation as to why. 

He thought she might just be the only person who knew how to crawl into the mess of his brain and find something familiar in there. Because this was the same book he’d read when Emily had died. 

He would never tell her he already owned it, however. Nor would he call her out for the fact she most certainly didn’t find it boring considering she was so far into it with annotations already scribbled in the margins. He just took it with a lump in his throat, his eyes burning with the idea she was so incredibly her that it felt like he had no option but to drown in it. 

“Body’s been found in San Francisco,” She said gently, and he knew she wished he would open the door fully so she could at least see him. Yet he kept the door on the latch. Because if there wasn’t a barrier between them, he wasn’t sure how else he would keep it all in, “You get to know more when you finish the book,” 

He sighed, holding the book tight to his chest, and they stood there for a second, the air turning stifling as they both held back a million words behind brave faces, “Will you be gone long?” 

“No, only a few days, I hope,” She replied, zipping her bag up and slinging it on her back judging by the sounds coming from her side of the door. She hovered, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but wanting to stay here on his welcome mat because this was the closest they'd been physically and otherwise in months. 

“Be safe,” He murmured, and her hand shot through the gap in the doorway, her pinky finger raised to the heavens. 

“Promise,” Bugsy said, her heart jack hammering against her ribcage when a long, warm finger wrapped around hers, and they squeezed them together. It was just a little touch, but it was a start. She wished he would open the door so she could beg him to talk to her, even if it meant crawling to her knees, she wasn’t above it whatsoever. 

Reluctantly, she let him go, though she noted the way he had held onto her until she did so. 

“I have to go,” She said sadly, drawing her hand to her chest like she’d received a Midas touch, and her hand was suddenly valuable after gracing his own. 

Her skin felt electric, her breaths felt laboured. She wanted more, but she couldn’t have it. 

And with that, it took every ounce of resolve to turn on her heels and head back down to her car. 

–

Bugsy stared at the artwork with a grimace, picking hard at her cuticles because the metallic smell was making her stomach turn. Their UnSub had taken to painting with his victims’ blood, canvasses upon canvasses of leeched ichor brushed out to make out an image of the bodies. 

Her nose scrunched when another wave of hot, iron wafted up her nose, and she thought about asking Hotch if she could step outside for a moment, knowing he likely wouldn’t question her perhaps ever again after their little phone call. 

“What other reasons would he have for separating plasma from the blood?” Hotch asked, and her brow furrowed, her mouth opening to speak before another voice cut her off.

“It’s a habit,” 

She swore she gave herself whiplash with how fast her head snapped to the side. She would know his voice anywhere. It sounded lost and desolate, yes, but her eyes swirled with relief when she saw him standing there, looking skittish and tired but alive. 

“Reid,” Morgan breathed, the same level of surprise she felt as JJ darted towards him, her arms wrapping around his middle before he could protest.

“Spence,” She said, and they hugged one another tightly, his eyes following over Jennifer’s shoulder to where Bugsy seemed to watch him unsurely, like she was waiting for him to tell her what to do, how to make it better, how to fix it. A girl who had always been so sure of herself now reduced to pining from afar for answers. 

“I didn’t expect you back this soon. You sure you're ready?” Hotch asked, an almost identical look of hesitance on his face as Bugsy had on hers, and it was no wonder half of the department said they were two sides of the same coin.

“No but I think I figured something out,” He breathed, moving out of JJ’s embrace towards the boards where the victim profiles were, and he began speaking in that slow, cold tone he’d taken on. 

Spencer, to no one's surprise, was able to all but fit their disjointed puzzle pieces together in the space of an hour's flight, and with just a few pointers in Garcia’s direction, they’d got their UnSub. 

“And bingo was his name-o, actually his name is Bryan Hughes, he is an AB positive haemophiliac who works as a janitor at the Bay Area Museum of Art. And before you ask, yes his address has been sent to your phones.” Penelope rushed, pinging the information to their phones just as fast as it had appeared on her screen.

“You’re the best baby girl,”  Morgan said into the speaker, hanging up the phone as the team stood from their place at the desk, Hotch assigning them tasks as everyone strapped on their kevlars and guns. 

She held back for a moment, her eyes assessing him like man approaching a wounded wolf. 

“I’m okay-” He was about to say, because he knew what she was going to ask before she thought to do it, except she simply nodded at him, turning on her heel to follow the others, despite him expecting something more Bugsy-like. 

It wasn’t like her to leave him without some final word, some final stand, and he was right. Because no sooner had she gotten all of three paces, she whirled back around, heading back towards him with a timid expression, and she all but launched herself into his arms. 

He held her tight, the warmth of her body making his eyes well up, because if there was anything that could have made him crack his resolve, it was her touch alone. 

She carded her fingrs through his hair, tucking her face into his neck and breathing in deeply. 

“I’ll see you when I get back,” She murmured, stopping herself from saying anymore as she released him, well aware of the fact he had tried squeezing her tighter before she’d had to let him go, like he hadn’t wanted her to go. But neither did she. 

“Stay safe,” He said on instinct, and she nodded, her eyes trailing over his empty eyes and sallow skin. 

She wanted to kiss away every trace of sadness there, but she couldn’t. Wanted to wrap him into a hug so tight she might just stop breathing, but it would have been worth it. Wanted to tuck him into bed and stroke his hair and feed him tea and chocolate and make sure he was kept well, because she’d do anything to make him better. 

But she couldn’t. They had a case. 

It took every scrap of resolve to let go of Spencer Reid, sheepish and mourning, and leave him in that room alone. 

–

She sighed, scrubbing at the back of her hand with the shitty aeroplane soap they had on the jet, the tiny basin doing nothing to help the fact she was all but peeling off the top layer of her epidermis. 

Catching Bryan had been messy; he had come at her with a scalpel, she had shot, his blood had sprayed over her arms, soaking right through. Spencer had all but gone white when she’d gotten to the runway, hoping to make it back to Quantico by midnight. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He fretted, despite the fact it was the closest he'd come in weeks to an emotion that wasn't sadness, and he stood little more than a few centimetres away, his fingers twined together, wanting to check her over himself. 

She waved him off, “It’s not mine. I’m going to wash up on the plane, don’t worry,” She replied, her expression exhausted, twitching on the spot to stop herself pushing his hair behind his ear. She knew he’d washed it because it looked particularly fluffy, the way it always did when he hadn’t bothered to style it before he left the house, “Are you okay?” 

He nodded wordlessly, and took her mini suitcase from her side, wheeling it along the tarmac for her, his face a worried scowl as they boarded the jet. 

She thanked him as she stepped past him putting it in the overhead luggage, heading straight for the toilets to wash up, Morgan and JJ ducking out of the way when they saw Carrie 2.0 passing by them. 

It wasn’t until they were already in the air did she emerge, her change of clothes on her skin that had been rubbed raw, her uniform in a biohazard bag that she swiftly dumped at the back of the jet to keep it out of sight. She threw herself down on the nearest seat, her entire body aching from the long few days, but she didn’t miss the hazel eyes that bore into the side of her head to her right. 

She turned to meet their gaze, even though she already knew who it was before she’d even looked. Spencer looked like he was caught between about five different sentences to start with, his eyes trailing down her arms and to her hands that were now squeaky clean. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He murmured, and she flipped her palms over for him to see for himself. No cuts. No abrasions. Except her usually marred cuticles she’d been picking at all day. 

“Pinkie promised, didn’t I?” She teased, but no humour met his face. He just looked back at her, like he didn’t quite believe her still, like she was a ghost where his best friend should be sat, or a trick of the light. She turned her knees towards him, her sleepy eyes buttery and genuine, as if she was trying to make herself as relaxed as possible, just so he would stop worrying, “Spencer, I’m fine. Didn’t even knick me,”

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking down to his satchel bag where he played with the buckle, the brown leather cold in between his fingers, “I’m sorry I’ve been weird and distant and ignoring you- I just…”

“Spencer,” She tried to interject with a honeyed voice, but he shook his head, a crease forming between his brows when he heard her say his name like that. 

“I just worry I’m letting everyone down, but when I saw you covered in blood-” He gulped, willing his eyes not to burn up again with unshed tears. 

“Spence, it’s okay,” She cooed, shuffling closer to him in her seat, her hand migrating to his knee, because she didn’t know if he’d want to touch her after she’d had someone else's blood all over her hand. She liked her chances, yet the last thing she wanted was to push him. “No one’s expecting you to go back to normal, I just want to know you’re safe. I owe you as much, I mean you looked after me when Emily was gone,” 

“You don’t owe me anything, Bug,” He shook his head again, his brows furrowing and she was quick to correct herself, “Besides, I loved living with you,” He rested his palm over her hand and gave her what he hoped looked like a small smile. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Spence,” She said, flipping her hand over to squeeze his fingers gently, “Did you not think I loved living with you too? I just want to take care of you for me,” 

He looked at her, her eyes hopeful as she roved over his clean clothes, his freshly washed hair, his satchel he’d kept tight in his lap, as if checking him over for bruises despite the fact he hadn’t been in the field. The crushing weight over his chest like a fallen log seemed to shift, and with it, her hand soothed the wound, her smile dried his eyes, her warmth engulfed his very core in a blanket. 

Spencer knew he was going to be okay if it was him and her. He knew the world was livable again if she was fighting in his corner. But then, when hadn’t she been?

Sensing his ease in attitude, or perhaps she just knew his eyes so well to notice the way they seemed to carry less burden as soon as she’d spoken, she leaned back in her seat, “Besides, the boys miss you. They said you gave them more treats than I do and Niko appreciated you brushing his fur for him,”

He smiled over at her bashfully, his head dropping down to lean on her shoulder as she pressed her cheek to his head. 

“Well, if the boys miss me, I guess I have no choice,” He murmured, his eyes heavy the second he rested against her, like she’d sprayed a sedative over him, and he couldn’t help think that her new perfume wasn’t nearly as them as her old one had been. Not that he disliked this one, just that the other one reminded him of morning breakfasts, and movie marathons, and nights when they would bake apple cake at twelve in the morning because she made it how he liked it to a tea. 

She chuckled, and it sounded like a hum in his ear, as he curled up to her side, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we land and I’ll drive us home,”

And it didn’t take much for him to do so, even if something had been right on the tip of his tongue; his apartment had only felt like home when she said it like that. 

+1. The one with the promise.

He’d had that dream again. 

It had been four months since Maeve died, but he’s had that dream again.

He’d start out in a restaurant, the walls lined top to toe with books, the chandelier the perfect amount of dust that it had character but not tackiness. A waiter would bring him over a menu and an iced tea, his favourite. He’d go to look up to ask why he’d been sat at a restaurant he had no recollection of getting to, and he’d see her staring back at him. 

Maeve. Looking healthy and happy, like he hadn’t watched her brains sprayed across that warehouse floor. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” She would say, a glass of some kind of white wine swirling in her hand, her teeth straight and white and pretty when she smiled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you,” He’d say, though he couldn’t feel his mouth moving, he just knew it had come from him. “Where are we?” 

“You promised me a date, so this is it,” Maeve said, a glint in her blue eyes, “First and the last. Let’s make it count,”

His heart would give a jump then, because he’d remember this was the only time he’d ever get to see her. He’d remember that she was dead, that he had never seen her in person like this until the day she’d died. 

He’d open his mouth to apologise, to beg for an explanation or forgiveness, whichever one he thought was more pressing, and then the door would swing open. 

And Bugsy would walk in. 

Donned in the same bluebell dress she’d worn at JJ’s wedding, only her arm wasn’t broken. And she’d walk right up to him, that smile on her face that said she was excited to see him. 

And Maeve would look at her, and instead of scowling or sneering like a woman soaking in jealousy would, they would look at one another and grin like they’d known each other decades. 

“Car’s out front when you guys are done,” Bugsy would chirp, her eyes warm when she looked down at the dead woman, satiated in genuine happiness to see her, “Don’t keep him too long,”

“One dance, Agent Prentiss, and he’s all yours,” Maeve would reply with a giggle, her brunette locks falling like a waterfall over her shoulder when she’d stand, offering a hand to him to sweep him onto the dancefloor, “You coming, Spencer?”

And his eyes would snap open, returning him back to the horrible reality of his darkened bedroom, his apartment silent other than the sound of Bugsy tossing in the spare room, the way she did when she got too warm in her sleep, and he threw his legs out of bed to go get her some cold water. 

But the dream never left him. The same one he’d had for months, since she’d moved in with him to take care of him, make sure he was eating and keeping as happy as he could be. 

The sight of her in that blue dress, waiting for him to finish his dance haunted him almost as much as Maeve did. 

–

“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t been sleeping?” She asked, cornering him in the kitchen once they’d both dropped their go bags in their room and he’d jumped for the kettle to make them both coffee. 

He blanked, the mug nearly slipping from his grasp as he plonked it down on the counter in front of her, “Why would you think-”

“Spencer,” She said as a warning, her lip quirking between her teeth as she gnawed at it worriedly. 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” He confessed too quickly, scratching the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous, “I know you worry about me, especially right now, and when you worry, you don’t sleep, and I just thought what’s the point in both of us running on nothing,” 

She huffed, and he shuffled around the island to meet her where she stood by the bar stools, looking like she wanted to be cross with him but she couldn’t find it in herself. 

“You should have told me, I could have stroked your back the way you liked, or, I don’t know,” She shrugged, looking anywhere but his guilty looking hues, “Smuggled night nurse in your tea,”

“Drugs. Cause that’s way better than my thing,” He teased, and she snickered, and he sighed in relief that she wasn’t really mad at him. He hated lying to her, he’d just wanted to keep his odd dream to himself until he could make sense of it, “Did Dave tell you anything else?” 

She shook her head, and he knew she was telling the truth because she seemed to immediately be the one assessing him for anything else she should have been told much sooner. 

“Is your head okay?” She asked, putting a gentle hand to his forehead to check for migraine heat, “I know they get worse when you don’t sleep-”

“My head’s fine, Bug,” Spencer replied, grabbing her hand with his long fingertips, pulling them from his face to squeeze at her side with a warming smile, “Promise. I’ll tell you if it gets bad,”

She watched him sceptically for a moment before she leaned over to grab her coffee, taking a long sip, and sighing in delight when it tasted perfect, “I love your memory, did I ever tell you that?”

He chuckled, dodging a rogue Niko that bobbed between his feet because it was almost dinner time for the two miscreants, moving back over to the sink to tidy the granules of sugar he’d spilled, “Many times. But I’d remember your coffee even if I had a normal brain,”

“Humble as always,” She remarked, smiling devilishly when he shot her a glare over his shoulder. It was then that Sergio jumped up onto the counter, the way Spencer had tried scolding him for a million times because of the germs, only for the onyx black cat to flick his tail in his face as if to flip him a middle finger, yowling in the man’s face for his usual dinner of kibble and water. 

“Alright, alright,” Spencer sighed, reaching into the cabinet to grab their food, two fluffy bodies immediately weaving in between his long legs with mews and head bumps, because those boys knew how to wrap him around their little finger, “You ought to start being nice to me, boys. One day it’ll probably just be me and you guys, and then you can’t just bat your tails at me like you do your mom-”

“I know I’m turning twenty eight but I still got a few years left kicking, Spence,” Bugsy protested, her brows furrowing when she heard his murmurs, which she hadn’t found entirely odd since he always spoke to the boys when he fed them, except this time it had made her draw back in confusion, “Where am I in this hypothetical bachelor pad you got going on?”

“You’ll be with whatever guy is lucky enough to talk his way into dating you, maybe engaged, maybe married,” He said like it was nothing, despite the fact he’d been thinking about that exact scenario for months. Since Penelope had mentioned just how good British men were in bed, in fact. Because he felt both sick and curious as to whatever it had been that had come out of her mouth in return, “And I’ll look after the boys while the two of you move on, because you’ll feel sorry for taking my only friends away from me when you leave, and I’ll be forced to become a lonely, old cat man,” 

“That’s not true,” She said, her face warming when he chuckled cynically, running a hand through his hair, “Spence, you can’t actually believe that?”

“Yes it is, Bugsy, you don’t need to try and make me feel better,” He brushed her off, wiping his knuckles over heavy eyelids, “You and I both like facts, right? It’s a quantifiable fact that zero women except Maeve have ever fallen in love with me in thirty years. Even if we call it twelve years to remove the factor of less meaningful relationships developing before adulthood, that means I’ll be forty two by the time I next get a shot, at which point I’ll be too old and washed up for anyone to find me attractive. Let’s face it, no one is ever going to love me like that again,”

“That’s not true,” She repeated, her chest hammering, her face scrunched into a scowl, “You’re wrong. Quantifiably wrong.”

“You have no data to back that statement up, Bug,” He replied with a dark snicker, and maybe it was the lack of sleep or the idea of her engaged to some other bonehead that had made him so crass, “Can’t make a conclusion without drawing on your evidence, to which you have none,” 

“Yes, I do, asshole. I know for a fact that someone is in love with you,” She snapped, and it was like a bolt of lightning had cut through their conversation, blowing up in her face, her entire body freezing the second the words had left her mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes panicked, and all teasing had dropped out of his expression, leaving something confused, “Bug-”

“I don’t know why I said that,” She cut him off, jumping into action and avoiding his burning gaze. But he was fast, and he was pushing off the counter just as quickly as her. 

“Bugsy, what do you mean? I don’t understand,” He persisted, darting only a pace behind her when she moved towards the living room to grab her cardigan off the back of the sofa.

She shook her head, “Ignore that, it doesn’t matter,”

“No, what did you mean by that?” Spencer asked, his voice tense because he had never seen her cower away from him like that, her body moving entirely into a state of flight. She shook her head, snatching the white fabric in her fingers and spinning on her heel to head for the doorway. But there he was, blocking her escape, his impossibly tall body stopping her right in her tracks, and she didn’t need to look up to know he had that special Spencer brand of Puppy Eyes. 

“I’m going to the store-”

“Bugsy,” 

“It doesn’t matter, Spence, just leave it,” She said shakily, trying to duck around him only for him to dodge to the left and stop her advance, “Spence, leave it, please,” 

“What did you mean? Just tell me,” He begged, his cadence wary, the sound of it flushing her entire chest with a heat she’d never known. She swore she was going into cardiac arrest, her heartbeat was in her throat, and it made it difficult to swallow, let alone push him away, “Do you know something?”

Her breaths were deep, begging her chest to behave as it damn near spun her vision into dizziness. He was just a man. He was just a boy. How could he have so much control over her entire body when he had barely even touched her? When he had just asked her one tiny little question? 

It was unethical, how her stomach rippled with butterflies the second she dared to look at his hazel eyes, round and intense where they never left her face. It should have been illegal for begging to look so good on him. 

She took a sigh, shaking her head and looking back to his mismatched socks, chuckling bitterly, and putting her head in her hands. She couldn’t escape from this, her only defence mechanism was to curl into herself like an armadillo against a predator, her attacker being the god's honest truth that he was owed years ago. 

“I really,” She cleared her throat, her eyes starting to burn with unshed tears, “I really messed things up with you,” 

“What?” Spencer’s hot hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling them away from her face so he could hear her every word clearly, “I thought we were okay now, I thought we were friends again,”

She laughed emptily, her bottom lip quivering, her hands shaking under his touch. He was so warm, he always had been, but it felt as if he was everywhere when he was only really touching the skin of her pulsepoint. She hoped he couldn’t feel just how it beat for him, beat so loud and fast all for him. 

“That’s the problem,” She whispered, her glassy eyes meeting his as she gave an unsure breath, gulping loudly. It was like he stared right at her soul, and pleaded it to speak to him. And she had never been able to say no to him, not when he looked like that, “When I came back from London, I came back to tell you that…” 

She breathed again, because she felt like she was holding it while she confessed, she knew it was no wonder she felt so dizzy, but she couldn’t look away from him, where his face was morphing into realisation. 

“I came to tell you that.. I-I’m in love with you, Spencer,” A single tear dribbled down her cheek, but he let go of her hands quickly to catch it, his lips pressing together in a silenced word, most like ‘oh’. His brows quirked above his nose, his eyes turning into devastation as soon as she’d said it. But it was out there now, so there was no use in trying to keep it in anymore. “I have been, for a while I think, and I wanted to tell you because I thought you might-might-” She gulped, the finger that had brushed the first tear stroking down until it rested under her jaw, the feeling of it damn near making her whine, “I don’t know, I just hoped you would feel anything back- but you don’t have to say anything, I know you’re hurting and so I just kept it in, but every time I see you I feel like I’m choking and I don’t know how to make it stop-”

“Tell me you’re lying,” Spencer said with a biting tone, his eyes honey comb gold and glistening when he looked at her. It couldn’t be true. He never got this lucky. It couldn’t be, he refused-

She shook her head frantically, her eyes pleading and wet, “Never, Spencer. I would never lie to you. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you- I know you’re hurting, I know you’re grieving and I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“I love you too,” He whispered, and it was like her words came to fruition as her voice was robbed, the air leaving her lungs. Her jaw dropped, her wet eyes boring into his chest, his hands skirting up to hold her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over her tear ladened skin, “God, Bug, I’ve loved you for so long, I thought you didn’t want anything like that after that kiss-”

Her expression dropped, eyebrows scrunching together, “What kiss?” 

He blanked, for once speechless. Only the kiss he’d torn himself to pieces over for weeks and weeks. “The night- that Derek brought you over when you’d had…” He trailed off, wanting to throttle himself for how dumb he’d been in retrospect, “When you’d had the Molly,” 

Her hand slapped over her mouth, his own hands flying to palm at his eyes, because how could he be so incredibly stupid. Ecstasy was a memory suppressant. He knew, he knew better than most, that taking recreational drugs like that robbed you of even the most life shattering moments. 

She didn’t remember. How could she? She was so out of it she could barely walk without stumbling over a flat surface. And instead of asking her, instead of simply growing a pair and seeing what she remembered, he’d gotten a girlfriend.

This was all wrong. This was so wrong. The guilt from Maeve dying was a wound that had cut him deep, and yet having Bugsy in his arms so placid and warm and adoring was a salve he had never dreamed would feel so numbing.

“We kissed?” She asked, her eyes blazing with embarrassment, her hand running through her hair in shock horror, “I don’t- how don’t I remember that- that’s all I dreamed of for months-” 

“Technically you kissed me,” He explained, despite the fact his cheeks had set on fire hearing her confess even the smallest bit more to him. She loved him. She was in love with him. She had been for months, she said. She loved him. “It would have been wrong if I did anything even if it was all I’d thought of too. And I just thought, because you never mentioned it, that you didn’t want to remember it at all,” 

He felt like he’d taken some sort of truth serum, like he should shut himself up any second now because he was spilling his longest kept secret to the one person who should have never been privy to it. But it was okay if she knew. Because she loved him.

She looked at him, and he swore he’d never seen eyes so beautiful, but then he’d always loved her eyes. But the way they looked at him, as if he’d had a bag pulled from over his head, or his glasses had been given the correct prescription, because it was like he suddenly saw just how adoring she looked when she watched him like that. 

And despite herself, she laughed. 

It was girlish, and carefree, and happy. So, so happy. And he started laughing too. She fell into his chest, her face hot with embarrassment, and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her giggling into his shirt, shaking her head. 

“We’re so fucking stupid,” She said, and it was mumbled, and the sound of it made him smile wider.

“I’m a stupid, stupid man. I’m so sorry, Bug,” He replied, his large hand stroking down the back of her hair though a sour taste crawled up his throat. 

He still owed Maeve that dance. Just as he’d told Rossi. Who had told Bugsy, because he knew she had some magic way of getting her way with everyone.

She pulled away, her eyes young and so incredibly pretty when she smiled at him like that. Sensing his hesitation, she tried to pull away from his embrace, worried like it was second nature to her by now that she’d overstepped. Only he didn’t let her. He kept his hand at the back of her head, one under her arm to pin her close to his body, because he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let her go twice. 

“You said you tried to tell me when you got back from London?” He said softly, and she nodded, like her confession had taken everything out of her, “But then when you got here… I was with Maeve,” 

She swallowed, worried where he was going, and nodded again wordlessly. 

He chewed the inside of his lip, taking a deep breath for courage, “I’m still- I feel terrible if-”

“You can still grieve, Spencer,” She cut him off, knowing what he was struggling to say, and his eyes crawled back up to meet her gaze, “It’s not heinous to need time to think, I know it’s a lot to ask, I never expected you to-”

He cut her off with a kiss to the apple of her cheek, warm and angelic, the feeling of it forcing her mouth shut, because she worried she might just whimper in delight if she didn’t. Her hand flew up to his forearm that moved around to cup neatly under her ear, his fingers weaving into her hair as he kissed again down near her jaw, her eyes fluttering shut. And when she thought it was done, when she thought her luck was spent, he kissed her again, on the cusp of her lips, a ghost breath slipping from a parted mouth, because she thought she might have just died and gone to heaven. 

“Bugsy, I love you,” Spencer said, and her heart felt full, so full her eyes welled up all over again because it was everything she had ever wanted, “I just need a little time,”

Her eyelids flicked open, and the bliss written over her face took a knock, her head reeling back like he’d burned her. But, as before, he didn’t let her go, He refused to let her run away again. Not when he had everything he wanted, “That’s not a ‘no’. It’s just a very stupid man who has loved you for longer than you’d know hoping on everything that you’ll be willing to give me a month or two. I want to do this right, you deserve to have this done right, and I want to give you only the best version of myself,” 

Spencer’s heart pounded against his slender ribcage as he waited for her response, because he knew he was pushing his luck. But he’d meant every word of it, and he figured if he had any chance at being the guy he’d always told himself she needed, he’d need to be honest with her. They’d need to be honest with each other.

But she smiled at him, sweet and besotted beneath his palm, and he didn’t know why he’d ever doubted her. 

“I waited six years, what’s a few months on top of that?” She smirked, her face glowing when he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead, and he felt how hot her blood ran under his touch. He hoped she couldn’t feel how his did the same. 

“I promise. Just a few more months, bug,”

And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer meant it. He wouldn’t let her go ever again. 

--

TAGLIST:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches s @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

MDNI, Mentions of sex but no smut, violence.

Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who’s scow immediately returned to his face as soon as you and your daughter were out of sight. Wasting no time to march to the elevator and hit the button to your floor.

Baby daddy!Miguel who couldn’t help but let out a scoff in disgust when he turned the corner of your hall and saw Henry sitting on the floor against your door. Not noticing until he was close enough that he was passed out, head lulled to the side, and an occasional snores leaving him as Miguel glared down at him.

Baby daddy!Miguel who had to resist the urge to wake him up with a swift punch in the face, and not stop until he wasn’t conscious again.

Baby daddy!Miguel that opted to instead nudged him with the side of his foot. Wanting to see what bullshit he’s spew out first.

—

What you ever say in this guy, Miguel will never understand, what you’d see in any guy that wasn’t him he’d never understand. Although to be fair, when you were with him, he probably wasn’t as pitiful looking as this.

“Not so much of a cocky ass now huh?” He couldn’t help but mumble to himself before taking the heel end of his foot and nudged the smaller male's knee. “Wake up.”

After a few more nudges, Henry woke with a loud snore, droopy eyes looking around in confusion before he finally noticed the legs in front of him. Neck cracking up slowly until he was met with the sight of Miguel’s body hulking over him. The overhead lights casting a shadow over his face so he couldn’t read his expression, and if Henry was just a tad bit less drunk, he’d feel the death-like glare being casted on him.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He slurred, remembering why he was outside your door in the first place.

“None of your business.” Miguel retorted, hands crossing in front of his chest. Despite his scary guard dog aura, Henry tsked in annoyance as he began to stand.

“I think knowing where my girlfriend is my business-“

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

Silence filled the air as Henry was finally able to get himself up on two feet, before a scoff left his lips.

“She already told you. I’m not surprised.” Now it was Miguel’s turn to scoff.

“Of course she told me. I'm the father of her child-“

“I knew something had to still be going on with you two.” Henry’s finger jabbed into Miguel’s chest, his drunken slurring forming into a bit of a hiss. Not phasing the bored look on Miguel’s face. “I’m not fucking blind, I’ve seen the way you looked at her. You’re still in love with her.”

“Look, I’m not wanting to cause any problems,” that’s a lie, “but it’s obvious you’ve had too much to drink and are just talking nonsense. She doesn’t want to see you, alright? So how about you walk away and leave her and my daughter alone.” Miguel spoke calmly, not denying the allegations thrown his way before they both knew it was true.

Miguel’s hand found its way to Henry’s back, not-so-gently pushing him towards the elevator and away from your front door.

“I’m not stupid as you think I am, man.” Henry retorted, planting his heels into the wooden floor to stop himself, before turning around to face Miguel again. “You’re not over her, you don’t think I knew what you were doing at the barbecue when you were dancing with her? Practically fucking her in front of me.” Miguel’s jaw clenched to keep himself from acting irrationally as Henry hissed at him like a dog ready to attack. “The way you always try to one up me in front of her. I’ve seen your messages to her, the old photos, the Spanish nicknames-.”

“Alright that’s enough dude.” Miguel interrupted him. Tone returning to its harsher original one.

“I’m not surprised the minute the opportunity comes, she runs back to your ass!” Henry shoved against Miguel, causing no recoil from the larger man.

“I’m not the one who cheated on her.” Miguel snapped back.

“Yeah, but you were just waiting for the opportunity for me to fuck up. Look like some…knight in shining armor.”

“Okay, man let’s go. You’re not gonna be able to finish this fight. Go home.” That’s when he felt it, a harsh pain on the side of his face. He didn’t realize till he touched his cheekbone and hissed at the throbbing sensation that came from the area that had transpired.

Henry just punched him in the face.

“I wanted to be nice. You already put her through a lot of shit in the past few days.” He mumbled as he rubbed the stop that was sure to bruise black and blue. “But you decided to make this more difficult for yourself.”

Henry didn’t have a chance to reply before his back collided with the wall, air being knocked out from his lungs as Miguel’s hands found their way to Henry's throat.

“You wanna know what happened the night she caught your ass sleeping with another girl?” The question was rhetorical.

“…What?” Henry asked, voice meek under the weight of Miguel’s hands.

“I got her to stop crying, comforted her… got her some food… then I started fucking her till she starts to cry again.”

“You son of-“ Henry began, trying to thrash his way out from under Migue, only to have more pressure applied to his throat. He quickly stopped when he felt himself become light headed, arms that were around Miguel’s wrist drop back down to his sides, and a cough left his throat when the hands around his neck loosened slightly so he could breathe a bit more properly again.

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, and listen good.” Miguel began, his voice dropping down to just above a whisper. Allowing Henry to let out a frantic nod before continuing. “I was the one who comforted her when you fucked up and broke her heart. I was the one who was there to pick up the pieces, not you. I’m the only one who knows her better than she knows herself. I’m the father of her child, me. It was always gonna be me. You weren’t the one who changed her baby’s diapers, you weren’t the one who taught Gabi to ride a bike, you weren’t there for her like I was. You never will, because when it comes down to it, she’ll pick me over you, every. damn. time.”

Miguel didn’t know what felt better, finally getting Henry to shit his smug ass up, for being able to get all his frustrated thoughts out in words.

“She’s mine, she’s always been mine, she's always going to be mine. So don’t for another second, think that you can just walk back into her life and act like you own her. You don’t own shit, you understand?” Miguel finally ended his rant, eyes narrowed as he waited for Henry’s response. Satisfaction flowing through his veins when the smaller male looked like he had just just been face to face with the grim reaper himself.

“I-yeah, yes-I understand.” Henry finally stuttered, face paled, and eyes wide.

“Good, now I want you to walk out of this building, and walk out of her life. If I see you or hear you trying to talk to her ever again, I’m not gonna do as much talking next time.”

—

Part 8<

Not proofread.

Word count:1.2k

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush

@queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker

@pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry

@haveclayeveryday @leonsbimbogf @bmoplanet @carmison @c4rm1son

@scaleniusrm @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz

@dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain

@safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin

@comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai

@sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee

@ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello, can you do a headcannon Yandere (father) King Henry and Yandere (mother) Anna Boleyn with their only surviving son?

❝ 👑 — lady l: I really like the idea of ​​them being platonic yanderes for a son, so I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of miscarriages, murder and implied cheating and toxic relationships.

❝👑pairing: platonic yandere!henry viii/anne boleyn x son!reader.

Anne was desperate to conceive a male heir, her only hope of staying alive and maintaining the interest of the King who, after some miscarriages and the birth of a daughter, has already began to wander towards one of her ladies-in-waiting.

So when she discovered a new pregnancy, she desperately prayed for a son and that she wouldn't suffer another miscarriage. She could not bear the loss and pain. Henry was pleased with the new pregnancy, but worried. Anne had already had several miscarriages and was only able to produce one healthy child, a daughter.

Anne took great care of herself during her pregnancy, taking care of what she ate and drank and trying to maintain good health. The first few months were the most tense, with fear enveloping both Anne and Henry. As the pregnancy progressed and there was no miscarriage, Anne became more confident.

When the day finally arrived to give birth, she was anxious. Henry was also anxious and he was so nervous when he heard Anne screaming outside the room, he didn't know what to think. When a baby's cries finally came after what seemed like hours, he entered the room.

Anne held her baby on her lap and cried softly and when a doctor approached Henry and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty. You have an heir", it was the first time that Henry felt complete happiness. When he picked you up, he was smiling from ear to ear. Not only were you the much-desired male heir but you also saved your mother's head.

Both of them would be extremely overprotective of their only son and those close to you will be scrutinized. Henry has become very paranoid about your safety and takes every precaution possible.

You are always by your mother or father's side, you cannot be alone at any time with a stranger. Anne, especially, would like to keep you sewn to her side all the time. She cares about you a lot and is always checking up on you. When you get sick, she becomes paranoid that you will die.

You are your parents' greatest pride and Henry doesn't try to hide it. He neglects all his other children and gives you all his love and affection. He takes you for walks, hunting and spoils you with all the perks that a future King deserves. In addition to showing you off before the Court. After all, you are the future King.

They are both very proud of anything you do. Any milestone, no matter how small, will be applauded by them. Your first words, the first time you walked and everything else will be treated with great celebration. Expensive parties are thrown in your honor all the time.

As you grow up, they become even more overprotective and controlling. Anne does not want you to leave the Court under any circumstances and Henry allows you to do so, but only with many guards. There were many threats lurking and they couldn't let anything happen to you. May God forbid anything from happening to you as the results will be disastrous.

Anne hates it when you spend time with other people, especially if they are women. The only women you need in your life are your mother and your older sister, Elizabeth. Although she understands that's a part of a man's life, she still doesn't like it and any potential mistress or love interest will be dealt with quickly. She is your mother, so no one has more right to you than her.

Henry is more than aware of his wife's actions and although he doesn't encourage them, he doesn't reprimand her. In fact, he's probably the one who encourages you to enjoy your life even if it always leads to fights with Anne. It was worth it when you looked happy. And your happiness is very important to him.

Your potential friends will be scrutinized and if your parents don't like them, they will leave. Henry and Anne won't sentence them to death at first, but if you or they are stubborn, they will be tried for treason. Don't you understand that you shouldn't trust anyone other than your own family? Your parents are the only ones who want the best for you.

Henry and Anne are smothering and protective parents but they only have your best interests at heart. They want you to live a full and happy life, but with them by your side. You were everything they both wanted and they would be damned if they let anything happen to you. England still does not know the fury of its monarchs nor the overwhelming love they feel for their only son.

[xxchumanixx]

Can we get Tim and Nolan Reader like you did with Gray Reader

Daisies

Tim Bradford x Nolan!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, implied age gap, established relationship

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you'll like it! I for sure do. I know it's really short, but I'm a little on edge and restless at the moment, about to get my exam results on Wednesday.

Wish me luck!

Enjoy!

"It's not what it looks like!"

Maybe that wasn't exactly the most clever thing to say, when Tim Bradford - your boyfriend - was standing in front of your father who just opened the front door, bearing daisies.

Your favorite.

There was only one problem: your father didn't know you were having a boyfriend - especially not one of his colleagues, his superior Sargeant.

"Sargeant Bradford!" your father stuttered in surprise, eyes wide, as they went from him to the daisies in his hands and back.

Your cheeks grew beet red, whilst Tim's mouth was agape, eyes as wide as your father's.

He clearly didn't expect him to be home.

"Nolan!" he gave back, desperately searching for the right words. "I didn't- I mean-" His eyes found yours, pleading for some help.

John's eyes followed Tim's, only then realizing what the hell was going on.

"It's not what it looks like?" he repeated your words, eyes widening more in utter disbelieve. "Not what it-" He cut himself off, mouth staying open.

"Are you- Do I need to have the talk? I mean-"

"What? Dad, no!" you screeched, jumping forward with your cheeks darkening in sheer embarrassment.

Tim flinched, knowing you were well informed about the things-

Shaking himself, he steadied his hand holding the daisies, as it started to hurt from holding them up all the while.

It wouldn't do him any good to think about that now - not with your father standing between you.

It went silent for a moment, your father's eyes staring a hole between your eyes, trying to make sense of this situation, all the while telling himself it's not what it looks like.

Even though it clearly was.

Even a blind one would have seen.

It was like his whole world came crushing down on him, doubting himself for not noticing you were dating someone - especially someone that was a few years older than you.

Maybe a few more.

When he suddenly moved, walking over towards the kitchen island and taking a seat on one of the barstools, you gulped.

He was quiet - never a good sign.

Looking back at Tim, your eyes found his, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to find the words to apologize.

He stuttered a few incoherent words, the daisies in his hand shaking the slightest bit.

You didn't know what to say either, not having him expected to show up at your front door this evening.

"I thought he wasn't home!" Tim whisper-yelled, eyes wide. "I thought-" he wanted to continue, but you cut him off. "Next week!" you hissed, glancing back at your father.

"I said next week!"

He was sitting with his head in his hands, shaking his head repeatedly.

Rubbing your forehead, wiping a few strands of hair out of your face, you motioned for Tim to come in, who's eyes widened even more in return.

Giving him the look, you silently told him not to argue - not now.

He obeyed with a pained sigh, stepping over the threshold, so you could close the door.

"Dad?" you called out, walking over to where he was sitting. "I wanted to tell you, really-" you cut yourself off, when his head shot up, Tim's sharply turning towards you in your peripheral.

You winced, slightly shrugging with your head tilted.

"I mean, Henry didn't tell you he's engaged, before you even met his fiance." you tried to lighten the mood, forcing out a chuckle, but he only stared at you like you were an alien.

Groaning, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Tim and I are dating." you dropped the bomb, even though he already knew. He flinched involuntarily, face contorted, even though he tried to hide it.

Failing miserably.

"Since when?" he pressed out, swallowing. "A few months?" you returned hesitantly, shrinking involuntarily.

"Maybe a bit more?"

He breathed out a chuckle, a pained and surprised one.

Closing his eyes, his head turned away from you, landing back in his hands.

Then he nodded, rubbing his eyes, before standing back up, facing you. "Okay." he spoke, biting his cheek. He nodded again, before shaking his head.

Tim stood beside you helplessly, fearing he'd worsen the situation if he just so much dared as making a sound.

Taking the daisies from his hands, you walked towards a shelf, taking a vase from it and filling it with water, before you put the daisies inside, placing them on the isle for your father to see.

"Your favorite." he muttered, fingers ghosting over the delicate petals. You nodded, smiling at him. "Yes, he gets me some every week."

"How old are you again?" he asked Tim, who's mouth opened to answer, before you interrupted him, knowing exactly where your dad was going with this.

"I'm old enough, dad."

He nodded again, swallowing.

"Oh, and I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened, fear filling them to the brim. You laughed, not having him expected to fall for it a third time.

Rolling his eyes, he huffed.

"Are you happy?" he wanted to know, tilting his head at you.

"I am."

He nodded again, as you walked towards Tim, taking his hand in yours. "And it's not just a fling. I-" You wanted to say that you loved him, but you weren't sure if it wasn't to early.

"Nolan, I assure you I won't harm your daughter in any way." Tim spoke up, taking a step towards your father. "I love her and I will do my best to treat her in the best way."

Eyes widening, you looked at him with your mouth agape.

Screw anything about it being too early.

"I love you too." you whispered, tears gathering in your eyes. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, sending you a smile.

Your father nodded, still overwhelmed but somewhat relieved.

"And I'm not pregnant."

"I better hope you're not!"

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@dhunhdchrih @rookietrek @augustvandyne

@nachofriess @dtftheavengers

[michelle-is-writing]

Interview, Matthew Gray Gubler

He's so goofy, I love him

Word Count: 2.1k~

(C/n) : Character name for the show

I think even after all the years of doing acting, I will never be able to feel completely comfortable in an interview. Over time, it's gotten easier, but the lingering feeling of nervousness still creeps up into me. I always worry I'll say something that can be taken out of context, or I'll blurt out something I wasn't supposed to reveal just yet. However, if I'm with friends or co-workers during an interview, the anxiety isn't so prevalent.

Thankfully, right now, I'm in one of the rooms on set with four of my closest friends as a reporter from a nearby magazine publishing company interviews us. Kirsten, A.J., and Shamar sit along the largest sofa while Matthew and I share the loveseat in the room. It's fitting, actually.

Over time, Matthew and I have formed a relationship with each other outside of filming Criminal Minds. It wasn't planned, of course. We met on set knowing our characters would soon be forming a romantic relationship, and so, we started a friendship to better portray the chemistry on set. However, that chemistry went farther than I could've expected in such a short time, and now we sit as two lovers who can't reveal themselves to the world just yet.

In the show, my character, (C/n), and Spencer still haven't gotten together. They're perfect for each other, my character having been written specifically for Spencer's character, but they have issues like any other two people trying to get together. It's lead to a lot of ups and downs with many fans going online to tell us to just kiss already. Luckily for them, the next episode that's next to come finally breaks through that relationship barrier and our characters get together. Because of this, the producer has told us that it was alright Matthew and I could be together off-screen - however, we must keep our relationship secret and hidden away from the public to avoid any spoilers about the episode being released.

Due to the pressure of trying not to do any of the things I would usually do with Matthew, I'm a bit scared of this interview. I know the interviewer is going to ask us questions about our ever growing on-show relationship - that's a definite. With the increasing romantic tension between our two characters, I don't even think she has to ask any questions to get the answer she wants. It's happening, and it's obvious.

Once the interviewer enters the room, she introduces herself as Lacey and greets us all with a welcoming smile. Sitting down in the only arm chair in the room, she starts off by talking about the recent season to the camera while other cameras pan around to catch video of us all. With all of us being watched and recorded, Matthew waits until the cameras are pointing away from us before sliding his hand discreetly over to mine and linking our pinkies together. The simple action, makes me a bit calmer as a smile soon makes its way to my lips.

"So, JJ And Will," The interviewer starts, facing A.J. with the same smile as before, her arm draped against the arm rest while her leg is crossed over the other. "Are they thinking about having any more kids after this recent one? Maybe another boy, or a girl for change?"

At the question, A.J. smiles with a small laugh. "I think for now, Henry and Michael are enough for Jennifer," She explains, folding her hands together and placing them in her lap. "Plus, I think Mekhai and Phoenix are enough for me at the moment too," A.J. adds, causing all to laugh with her. The boys are wonderful, but with Phoenix barely six months old at the moment, I can understand why she would be apprehensive over thinking about another baby so soon.

"They are adorable kids, A.J.," Lacy tells her, earning a warm 'thank you' back. Turning toward Kirsten and Shemar, Lacey asks them her next question. "What about your characters?" She asks, "Are there anymore developing things to soon come along?"

"Just the same ol' incessant flirting from this old woman," Shemar jokes, earning a slap to his arm from Kirsten much to our amusement. However, Shemar quickly earns his friendship back from Kirsten with a hug as she struggles to keep her angry face. "But it's the flirting that I love! I love it! I'm glad it's incessant!" He further clarifies, taking Kirsten in his arms and swaying her as she laughs at him.

With that, our laughter grows until finally quieting down as Kirsten is back to wrapping her arms around Shemar's neck in a non-threatening gesture. This time, the interviewer turns toward Matthew and me with a smirk on her lips, his hand having already left mine moments ago as we felt the questions coming.

"Now," Lacey begins, her voice slow and calculated. I can't help but feel a bit anxious under her unmoving stare. "We have seen the relationship between (C/n) and Spencer grow and have breakthroughs on-screen, but, my question is..." She then pauses, her smirk turning into a grin. "What all do you have to say about yours and Matthew's relationship off-screen?"

Her question takes me by surprise. All of the questions we've been asked before were centered around the relationship between mine and Matthew's characters - never are they about me and Matthew in real life. We always chalked it up to the fact that we make sure we're careful in not revealing that we do have a relationship, but maybe Lacey just kind of sensed it. Although, how could she not?

"Oh, well," I start, looking over at Matthew as he smiles at me. To the others, it's just a plain, nonchalant smile, but to me, I can see the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. "Our relationship is nothing more than friends," I lie, my voice calm as I continue lightly grinning. "We play around and joke around with each other constantly. We're very close," I add, being truthful for once. I know that Matthew desperately wants to stop hiding our relationship from the public, as do I, but we can't. At least, not for another week.

Lacey hums a response with the smirk back on her lips. "So, Matthew's arm around your shoulder was just a friend thing?" She can't help but ask.

"Okay, so, we're best friends!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes before letting out a small laugh. "Two friends can put their arms around each other without it meaning anything else. Right, Shemar?" I add, hearing the man in question agree with a 'I know that's right'. Meanwhile, Matthew has his own way of dealing with the unwanted questions.

"Whoah!" Matthew states, leaning back with a blank look, his hands help up in surprise. "Did you just friendzone me, babe?" He asks in a ridiculous voice, making me stifle a laugh. He's so goofy, but I guess he's trying to help me play it off all the while calming me down too. Like anything else he does for me, he's doing it successfully.

"You're lucky I even said 'best friend,' buddy," I add, crossing my arms with a smirk as I lean back against the couch rather than Matthew's arm like before. Meanwhile, Matthew just stares at me with his mouth agape, trying not to laugh at my words.

"Bu-buddy?!" He questions, purposely stuttering the word for a dramatic effect. "My heart!" He shouts, slapping a hand to his chest. This time, everyone begins laughing at our exchange as we smile at each other and slowly settle back down.

Thankfully, realizing that she won't get the answer she was wanting, Lacey doesn't question mine and Matthew's relationship again, nor does she ask anything more about Spencer and (C/n)'s growing relationship either. In fact, her attention is so far away from me and Matthew at this point that she doesn't even notice our new position with my back against Matthew's chest and his arm lazily strewn across my lap. Any other time, this wouldn't be happening, but with us establishing that we're just "friends" like Shemar and Kristen (funny enough, the only two that actually do know about our relationship), I feel as if we're in the clear.

After the interview is over and we're all released to head back to our dressing rooms, I make my way to mine with the intention of taking my makeup off before heading home and taking a nap. Of course, when I say 'home,' I mean mine and Matthew's apartment. Unfortunately, it's yet another thing we have to hide from everyone else.

Just as I toss my used makeup wipe into the trash bin, I hear my dressing room door open behind me before shortly closing afterward with a click. Turning around to see who walked in, I'm greeted by the person whom I want to see the most, and we can't help but smile at each other as soon as our eyes meet. Barely a few seconds pass before Matthew's arms are around me and my lips are on top of his.

Despite our touches being soft and sweet, they soon turn into something more as I find myself pressed against my dressing room counter with Matthew in between my legs and his hands planted firmly on my waist. "Matthew," I murmur in between kisses as his lips move down to my jaw. I know that if we don't stop now, there will be no stopping at all.

"Matthew, we can't," I whisper, pulling myself back to look at him. Staring back at me with lust blown eyes, I watch as he tries to catch his breath while I do the same. Having to hide our relationship everywhere we go builds up a certain passion that sometimes comes out in situations like now. Although, it's usually at home and not where practically anyone can catch us. "Not here."

"Why? No one's going to hear us," He quickly points out, shrugging as if it were nothing. Diving back into my neck, Matthew presses his lips onto the skin of my collarbone, prompting me to move a hand to his head and tug his hair back. Thankfully, this brings a halt to his actions, and instead of crying out in pain, Matthew jerks his head back into my hand and sighs through his nose, smirking. "Unless you keep that up."

Resisting the urge to laugh, I shake my head at him. "That's what I'm saying!" I almost exclaim, moving my hands to the sides of his smiling face. "Besides, we haven't come out as official yet. We were told to wait until next week's episode that way we don't give away our character's relationship at the same time," I remind him, feeling my heart slowly break as his smile falters.

Knowing that I'm right, Matthew sighs before laying his head against my chest in defeat. "I know, but I'm tired of waiting," He murmurs, his voice gentle and almost in-audible. Out of the two of us, I think Matthew's the one that this affects the most.

"Me too," I agree, my hand that had previously pulled at his hair now soothingly combing through the longer locks. "But, it's just another week, just one more," I point out, reminding us both that we don't have to wait that long anymore. "And then we can finally kiss and hold hands and hug without having a finger waved at us."

Nodding with a chuckle, Matthew continues resting against my chest as I massage his scalp. Although, a flip is switched within a matter of seconds and he's back to smirking. "You know, we could always just give them a sneak peek, nothing more," He suggests, turning his head to nuzzle further into the exposed skin from my v-neck blouse.

"Matthew, you are an animal!" I quietly exclaim, laughing as I have to once again push him away. With him grinning playfully, I move to stand back up in front of him, a similar grin making its way onto my face before I lean up and press my lips to his in a soft, but quick kiss. "I do love you though."

Smiling at my comment, Matthew tightens his arms around me and holds me close, my face now pressed into his chest for a change. "I love you too, (Y/n)," He murmurs, lowering his head as I feel him press a kiss to my hair. One more week is all we have to wait before revealing anything, and honestly, I don't know if this man is going to last that long.

And to be honest, I can't blame him.

[aemiron-main]

these are literally some of the dumbest tags ive ever seen. like. there’s SO much here that’s untrue, including the empathy part. “love couldnt have fixed him as a child” have you considered he didnt need to be fixed??? Did you even watch the show???? Love would have ABSOLUTELY helped him, and he didn’t need to be fixed.

like i shouldnt be surprised that people on here are Siding On The Side Of Child Abuse but… and just like god there’s so many Factual Errors here, shitty and cruel attitude aside. “torturing animals for fun” and the kid in question looks distressed the whole time & a bunch of parallels indicate that he was trying to free the rabbit, but god forbid we look beneath our first surface impressions, right?

and also, the whole “before the lab” thing makes me insane because it acts like everything in his life was fine prior to the lab. meanwhile, he talks about how he was treated as being broken PRIOR to the lab and how his mother despised him PRIOR to the lab and how she wanted to send him away to an abusive predator scientist PRIOR to the lab and that’s just the surface level shit let alone all of the subtext about what his life was like pre-lab.

and not only is it impossible for him to have been trancing victor and killing slice at the same time & theres so much weirdness there, even if he straight up murdered virginia and alice got killed as part of it, it’s not like it happened because He’s Inherently Bad And Evil. I think he was in the right to kill virginia!!!!! Like sorry but wanting to send him away to Brenner????? She had it coming. Alice didn’t, but again, there’s so much weirdness around that AND even if he did kill her, the whole thing could have been prevented if people (Virginia) weren’t trying to send him off to the lab/fix him.

Like it’s insane to me that people will watch Dart’s arc about how creatures from the UD aren’t inherently evil and how Dustin’s love made a huge impact on Dart and yet will also go “oh yep mhm the duffers wrote this Literal Human Child to be Evil and Bad and Broken and he Needs To Be Fixed but hes so broken that not even love can fix him”.

Like. Op is the one with the real lack of empathy here & I sure hope they don’t extend this viewpoint to the abused and autistic kids/people in their life. I don’t feel bad calling the tags dumb because they ARE dumb and literally factually inaccurate and they’re cruel and contributing to the stigma around people who are low empathy (and henry isn’t even low empathy).

[pfhwrittes]

have some domestic price x gender neutral reader fluff that floated into my head.

pairing: john price x gender neutral reader

word count: 711

tags/triggers: domesticity, fluff, humour, pet names (love), mild bashing of the reader character's sister, slightly older than canon john price, long term relationship, no Y/N, 2nd person POV.

a/n: unedited as per usual. please don't interact with my writing if you're under the age of 18 despite this being a fluffy little something. also, i'm not judging people that want to get married or have kids, you do you but this is for those of us that don't want either of those things.

"john, what do you think about getting married?" you ask as casually as possible between sips of tea as your long term partner perches on the sofa next to you, his eyes focused on the liverpool game on the telly.

"i think you called it a "monument to compulsive monogamy and heterosexuality" and then you swore loudly about henry the eighth for twelve minutes on our first date." he replies before groaning loudly as his team bungle a free kick.

you smile into the rim of your mug because, yes you did say and do that when he brought it up all those years ago.

"mm, i know. one of my better rants i think."

john's hiss of triumph as one of the little red shirts on the screen peters off into discontented grumbling as half time is called and you place your mug on the coffee table.

john turns to face you when you settle back into the deep cushions and you trace the salt-and-pepper in his beard with loving eyes. if there's one thing you can say about retired captain john price it's that he's only got better with age, much like the whiskey he has stashed in the spare room/office. forty six is a damned good look on this man.

"what's got you asking about marriage, love?" john questions you with a raised eyebrow and you grumble, curse your overly observant partner. even when he's distracted his mind is still turning over every interaction and sniffing out a motive.

you sigh.

"my sister is having a baby."

"christ, really?" he looks so scandalised that you laugh at his expression. it's a familiar one when the topic of your younger sister is brought up, a combination of bafflement and mild disgust that pulls his mouth down into a frown even as his eyebrows reach up towards his hairline.

"mm." you make a noise of agreement.

"with the estate agent?"

"yep." you pop the 'p' obnoxiously.

"christ. she's only known him for five minutes," he shakes his head disapprovingly before reaching for your hand to give it a squeeze, "but what does this have to do with us getting married, hm?"

you shrug a little helplessly as he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

"i don't know, i just started thinking when she sent me a copy of her scan and -"

"of course she did." john interrupts you with a weary sigh. "your sister is nothing but a self centred cow and i'm positive she sent it to you to get you to feel bad."

he looks at you, pinning you in place with a fond sort of sternness that you had seen a few times before when kyle had been over for dinner espousing his worries about being the right man for the job.

"listen to me when i say this, yeah?" he taps your knuckles with his thumb gently to make sure you're fully focused on him, "i'm happy exactly as we are, love. i don't need a bit of paper telling me that we're bound together for the rest of eternity. god knows we already are, what with the mortgage and the bloody cat."

"be nice john, she's a sweetheart." you chide as you glance over at your middle aged tortoiseshell moggy curled up on the armchair.

"she's a bloody demon and you know it." john snorts good-naturedly as the cat in question makes a noise similar to a creaky gate at the sound of his voice.

he releases your hand so that he can reel you into his side to press a kiss to your temple.

"stop trying to distract me with the cat and stop focusing on your bloody sister. you've never wanted to get married and that's one of the reasons i love you, you silly arse."

the small knot of worry you'd been carrying since the start of the conversation unwinds and you release a long breath, taking the opportunity to snuggle into his side more comfortably.

"i love you too."

john simply presses another kiss your temple in response as the football match starts again and you settle in to enjoy an evening with your not-husband.

(tomorrow you'll threaten him with a rolled up tea towel after you find that he texted your sister off your phone calling her baby scan a "badly made lasagne".)

[f10werfae]

Pretty Girl

pairing: Dad!sy x Pregnant!Mom!Reader

summary: Baby Ellie has her daddy wrapped round her little finger, but so does her momma. After-all they’re his pretty girl (smut)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Hey pretty, c’mere and give me a kiss” Sy cooed nuzzling into his wife’s side on their bench swing in the backyard, his hands rubbing over her exposed bump which was housing their second baby. “mhm okay” She gave in ultimately giving him a soft wet kiss, having to push him away for a breath. “D-da d-da” Both their heads turning to face their 1 year old babygirl, who was settled on her play mat out in the shade.

Aika rested her head on her paws whilst on the play mat, letting baby Ellie rest her body against hers, ultimately using Aika as her backrest. The Syverson family was spending this nice summers day out on the porch, with Ellie clad in only a diaper just to keep her cool. “Yes my gorgeous girl, ya enjoyin’ bein’ out here with your momma and dada?” Sy cooed slipping off the bench and onto the mat a few feet away, Ellie was holding up her own bottle as she drank away, her other hand reaching up for Sy’s hand.

Ever since Ellie had seen the effect of the word ‘da’ on her daddy, she’s been using it ever since as a sign of a beck and call. “Da, da da” The soft curled bundle of joy tottered away from Aika’s body and wobbled her way onto her daddy’s lap. “Aren’t ya jus’ precious sweetpea, you n your mama n’ baby brother” Sy growled peppering kisses all over Ellie’s face until she started giggling and had to push his face away.

“Sy stop it and give her a chance” Y/n giggled watching, knowing damn well her babygirl loved giving out kisses too, Ellie’s lips already pouting out to land kisses on her daddy’s beard covered cheek. “mwah da” Ellie babbled happily, her curls bouncing with her, her hands on his shoulders to stabilise her standing up. “Wow babygirl, best kiss av ever gotten” Sy gasped hugging her tiny body to his immediately, carrying her onto his lap again.

“Da-da baba?” Ellie pulled away looking up with her innocent doe eyes, picking up her empty bottle up to her daddy, another small pout playing on her lips. “N' here I thought you wanted to cuddle with dada” Sy playfully scoffed settling Ellie down by Y/n, their babygirl wasting no time in cuddling on her mama’s lap, her head resting on her chest, her tiny hands feeling the baby’s kicks; her eyes twinkling watching Sy walk inside with her precious baba.

“got daddy wrapped round your lil finger baby” Y/n smiled nuzzling her head against her baby’s, pressing a big kiss on her cheek as she rocked her gently. “One baba per request” Sy said rocking back into the backyard, shaking the small lukewarm pink bottle in his hand, testing the temperature on his wrist before he handed it back to his little precious petal. “mm baba dada” She said handing it back to him.

Sy smiled picking up the tiny tot and sitting down beside his wife with Ellie laying across his lap as if she was a newborn again. His hands steadily holding the baby bottle to her lips as she suckled softly, her naturally wide eyes peering around the garden at all the different birds before settling on the baby blues of her dad. One of her hands reaching behind her for her momma and the other holding onto Sy’s hand that was holding the bottle.

“Think she’ll go down for a nap soon?” He smirked looking up to his wife, that same playful lustful loon in his eyes whenever his eye caught hers, his head leaning down to kiss and nuzzle against the side of her face like a possessive bear cub. “Oh yeah she’s your daughter Sy honey, fill her belly and she’ll be knocked out soon enough” Y/n swooned, leaning her body towards him as her hand patted down his soft stomach and body.

“See look her pretty lil eyes are already closing, must be the cool breeze helpin cool her down too” Checking her nappy was still clean, after about 15 minutes Y/n had burped and lulled her babygirl to sleep, ultimately leading her to put her down in her crib. Turning on the baby monitor and adjusting the room temperature, Y/n left the room slightly ajar as Sy and her retreated to hanging out in their shared bedroom.

“I ever tell ya how pretty you are? Especially when you’re full n’ round cus a’ me” Sy poses on the bed like a girl, his feet swinging in the air as he lay on his stomach, his hands cupping his face whilst he just stared at his wife. “Yes loverboy, you tell me at least every hour”

“That can’t be right, i’ll make sure to say it every minute then” He joked rolling onto his back, guiding her to sit on his lap, his hands immediately clasping around her body to cage her closer to him. “But seriously you are just gorgeous, jus’ how do you get even more beautiful the more life goes on” Y/n soon found herself feeling hot and bothered the more compliments and kisses she received, not to mention the subtle ass squeezes Sy had managed to squeeze in between his monologues.

“Stop it Sy please” She whined carefully tracing his brow with her thumb, trying to distract herself from looking into his eyes which were desperately trying to catch hers. “What can’t I pay my pretty mama compliments? I’m havin’ to stop myself ‘ere” Growling lightly he slightly jerked his hips up, letting her feel his hardened cock through his grey sweatpants, his torso bare. “Fuck Sy”

“I know baby m’sorry, I can’ help it, anytime I see you, smell you or hear you, the little guy gets excited n’ needs ya” Rubbing up her back soothingly under his shirt she was wearing, he felt her slowly start to shift herself back and forth on his lap, her wetness starting to leak through her thin cotton panties to create a darker stain on his pants. “Oh baby what are ya doin?”

“I need somethin Sy, seein’ ya be such a good daddy to Ellie and how you’re just so fuckin’ sexy it actually kills me” She suddenly broke out into a curse, seeing Sy basically move around the house was like porn for her, seeing him tend to the laundry and housework? She was about to bend him over if she could. Seeing him try his absolute best to lighten her load, even taking his babygirl Ellie out on his walks just so she could have some peace and quiet.

“You gonna use me baby? Get what you need momma, so fuckin’ pretty like this, my perfect angel, got my cock all swollen jus by bein you” He pushed back some of her hair away from her face, her expression furrowed as she quickened her pace knowing it wouldn’t be long before Ellie woke up again. “Y-you make me feel so good” Moving her underwear to the side she let her bare sensitive pussy rub against the fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock peeking out of the band as per her request.

“Hold on pretty-“ He gasped pulling down his sweatpants to his thighs, letting them feel each other’s skin as they humped against each other lovingly. Her swollen lips parted to hug around his shaft, covering his length in her slick wet juices, the lewd sounds filling the bedroom along with her whines and whimpers; the both of them being careful to not be so loud. “So soft” He would whisper out as his thumb caressed her sensitive nerve, watching her face contort whilst he stimulated her clit.

“You gonna cum for me pretty girl? Can feel it, come on baby I want it so bad” He whispered against her neck, his lips inching upwards until they reached hers. His tongue slipping into her mouth engaging it in a wet spit filled kiss, keeping her quiet. “M-m gonna come Sy” She whispered urgently feeling that band in her stomach grow tighter, with it eventually snapping once one of Sy’s paws wandered up to tug and rub at her hardened nipples. “Aww baby you did so good, m’ so prouda you pretty, makin’ yourself feel good on your man’s lap” He cooed in between grunts as he tugged at his hardened shaft to squirt ropes of cum onto her pussy.

“You proud of me” Y/n smiled hazily leaning back, massaging his cum into her pussy, her eyes peering at him as he brought her back in for a sloppy make-out session, leaving both their chins shiny with spit. “Fuckin’ best thing ta ever happen to me”

(this fic is not proofread)

———

PSA: Haven’t updated in so long but i’ve honestly just been enjoying my summer🫶Hope you enjoy this Dad!sy fic

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

taglist: @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @sweetybuzz25 (comment to be added!)

[allurilove]

OMG I LOVE YOUR YANDERE HUSBAND DRABBLES <3

can you write a drabbled about the time when reader is giving birth to Henry?

ily and bless you <3

Awww tysm!

Your husband prepped the hospital bag weeks in advance, and when the day finally came, he felt so proud that he was all ready to go. He yanked his car door open gently got you to sit and settle into your seat, and he helped you put on your seatbelt. He then rushed inside, grabbed the bag, threw it into the backseat, and he jumped into the drivers seat.

He plugged your ears with your headphones, and started to play classical music. You’ve been listening to that genre since the start of your pregnancy, all because he heard that it would make the baby smarter.

“Just relax, alright? I’ll take care of everything.”Your husband smiled, gently petting your head as you practiced your breathing exercises.

He started up the car and slammed on the gas. You could only hear the soothing sounds of the violin as your husband swerved in between cars, and when you slowly looked at him, you saw him lashing out at other “dumb” drivers.

When the music stopped, and there’s that brief moment of silence before it changed to the next song, pieces of your husband’s crude words filled your ears. “Go faster, you stupid-“

You clear your throat and glare at him. He glanced back at you, grabbed your phone, and raised up the volume of the music. Your husband gave you another innocent smile, before he started to drive like a maniac again.

You queued: “The Mission: Gabriel’s Oboe” by Ennio Morricone, Yo-Yo Ma, and Roma Sinfonietta.

When you made it to the hospital, you changed into the gown they gave you, and sat on the bed. Your husband slumped against the wall and watched as the doctors took care of the rest. He gave you his hand to squeeze, and he was too tired to register the pain from your tightening grip.

It took you hours to start pushing. Your husband curiously took a look downstairs, his other hand reaching for his phone just to take videos of the situation. After all, this baby was about to be the best thing that has ever happened to the relationship. But oh god, he started to feel woozy. He held onto your hand for support when he started to lose his footing, but he tripped on his own feet, and was knocked down onto the floor.

Your husband never wanted to be the man that fainted as his wife gave birth. He slowly opened his eyes, and when he glanced over…he could see the baby already in your hands. He groaned, mentally cursing at himself for missing the delivery, and he got back onto his feet.

The man was pretty embarrassed as he walked towards you, and he kissed your forehead as a small apology. He cleared his throat before he attempted to talk to you. “So uh, what are we going to name him?” Your husband glanced at the little guy.

“Henry.” You beamed, already confident in your choice.

“…Henry.” He muttered, testing out the name on his tongue. He then patted his pockets before he grabbed his list of names he made. He unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned the names. “I don’t see Henry as one of the names we both agreed on.”

“It just feels right.” You reply.

“You’re feeling a lot of things right now, let’s just lean away from the name Henry.“

You give him a look. “What’s wrong with Henry?” You then lifted up the baby towards him. “Doesn’t he look like a Henry?”

Your husband shook his head, his lips curling downwards. “He looks like a Frederick or Fred. Maybe, a Bennett or Ben. If I’m being honest, he’s looking pretty ambiguous right now.”

“But he’s definitely a Henry.”

“What about Harry-“ Your husband tried to throw that name into the mix but you shut him down. You were pretty set on the name Henry. You two didn’t have to follow the pre-agreed list of names that you guys already argued about for hours, and you were allowed to change your mind.

Your husband reluctantly agreed with you, and your new born was finally given a name. After you were able to recover for a couple of days at the hospital, you were free to go back home. Your husband was looking at the closet filled with baby clothes, already imaging what it would be like to start dressing him up. He had each drawer filled with outfits for every day of the week, and even the holidays! For Christmas, Henry could wear red pajamas with little reindeers and snowflakes on them. There was also a mini elf outfit, and of course yandere husband was going to dress up as Santa.

Your man was super happy as he stood by the crib. He peered down at the bassinet and he had a huge smile on his face. He just knew that he’ll get along with Henry. He could just tell.