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reidphobic · 3 months ago

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crashing into him tonight (he’s a paradox) - s. r.

in which your lessons continue, and you want to be more than spencer’s teacher. 4004 words. part two to the neighbor!au.

inexperienced!sub!spencer x dom!fem reader, jealousy, mommy kink, mutual masturbation, fingering, praise, very very mild degradation, brief cumplay? i guess? no use of y/n, reader is still super condescending but it’s still hot

It starts to become a routine for Spencer to knock on your door late at night, wearing a nervous smile and offering a quiet plea for another lesson. It’s not every night he’s home, but it’s enough that you start to notice his absence after a couple of days. You try not to read too far into it, remind yourself that the two of you just have fun, that Spencer is just your little plaything, and it doesn’t matter if he’s away somewhere using tricks you taught him on other women. And, besides, you’re hardly celibate yourself.

But after three nights of silence, you hear something so unfamiliar you almost don’t recognise it at first. A second voice in Spencer’s apartment — in his bedroom. You can’t quite make out any words, but you can tell exactly what’s happening, low murmurs giving way to soft moans, the shape of his name reaching your ear in a high, pitchy, voice. You scowl, huff. You know Spencer knows the walls are paper-thin. Has he even noticed that you haven’t brought anyone home when he’s there since you started sleeping together?

You lie awake, listening, until you can’t take the hurt any longer. You storm out of your apartment, drown the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach in cheap, sour liquor. It’s not long before you’re leaving the bar again, head spinning, and back in your apartment with a willing body between your thighs. The guy — whose name you’ve already forgotten — is perfectly eager, all the right words, praises, moans as he touches you. His kiss is perfect on paper, just enough tongue and teeth and wandering hands, and you moan and stretch and purr when he fucks into you.

But it’s still all wrong. There’s too much of him; square shoulders and broad chest where you crave a slim, slight body. He praises where you want pleas, calls you baby instead of Mommy. The prospect of waking up to him in your bed makes your skin crawl, and you bundle the guy out of the door practically before he’s finished cumming. Sobered up and unpleasantly sticky, you stumble into the shower and try to scrub off the night’s sins. It doesn’t feel like it works.

Trying not to think about Spencer doesn’t work either. It doesn’t work as you toss and turn in bed, or when you’re getting ready for work, not even while your shift drags on and on and your mind is filled with a billion other things. You can half-feel the ghost of his presence, his favourite of your mugs undrank-from on the counter, one of his ties slung across a dining chair, a book he’d thought you might like resting on your coffee table.

It’s worse that he’s gone for so long — he’s been away on a case for ten days, and your lasting memory is the noise of him fucking someone else. The sound is still rattling dimly around your head as you stare aimlessly at the TV, your whole body sore after a long, late shift, when there’s a knock at your door. Unthinking, you open it, expecting your food delivery guy and instead coming face to face with Spencer.

You’re half-convinced you’ve fallen asleep, that he’s a cruel trick of your subconscious, and it must show on your face because Spencer’s face screws up in concern as he speaks. “Hi,” he murmurs. He’s disheveled in a way you’ve never seen him, bleary-eyed and shirt untucked, like he’s been sleeping in his clothes. “I, uh. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I came straight here, which sounds kind of stupid, ‘cause I live here, too, but, uh… I haven’t been inside my apartment yet.” You keep your face cool, impassive. “What… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I missed you.” Never mind that he fucked someone else the night before he left.

“Is that all?” you say, folding your arms across your chest. His face crumples, and you feel guilty all over again.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks, innocent and forlorn, and, God, you just want to sink your teeth into him right then and there.

But if you bite too hard, he’ll bleed. “I don’t know, Spencer. Did you? Or did you have fun?” you snap. “Did you use what I taught you?” The words taste bitter as they spill free, but you can’t swallow them back down. Spencer’s mouth opens and closes, but he stays silent. “Or, what, she wasn’t happy with you? You after one last practice run before you give the real thing another shot?”

“I… What?” He pauses. “This is because I… slept with someone else?”

You roll your eyes. “Wow. That 187 IQ really works wonders for you, huh?” You move to shut the door in his face, but he blocks you deftly, steps past you into your apartment so quickly you barely realise what happened. Right. FBI agent.

Spencer crosses the room, sits down at your dining table, motions for you to do the same. Your feet carry you into the chair without your permission. “So, you’re angry with me for sleeping with another girl, despite never communicating or agreeing on any kind of exclusivity. After… this.” He gestures vaguely to the space between you. “All started because I don’t know what I’m doing and you wanted to teach me?”

You sigh, turn his words over in your head. When he puts it that way, you sound ridiculous. And his saying I don’t know what I’m doing isn’t lost on you either. “I don’t think I knew, honey. I thought, this is just fun, just friends helping friends. And then I heard you, and I got so… possessive, I guess. And I couldn’t talk to you, because you were gone, so I just got more and more bitter.”

Reaching a hand across the table, Spencer gives you a tentative glance before taking hold of yours, running his thumb soothingly across your knuckles. “So, that night, the guy you were with, that was…”

“Fucking awful,” you joke, but he just looks concerned, doesn’t pick up on it. “No, it was… retaliation. God, that’s so embarrassing. The sex was fine, but he wasn’t you, honey.” At that, he finally smiles, and you feel it warm you from the inside out.

“And that’s what you want?” He licks his lips, touches his hair. His particular brand of skittish nervousness looks so good on him that it’s almost unfair. “Me?”

The disbelieving look on his face, frankly, is criminal. “Spencer, sweetheart, I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted more.” Your chairs scrape against the floor as you scramble up, grab at him everywhere you can reach, crash your lips into his. It’s sweet, soft, and you fight to hold your hunger at bay, trace his lips with gentle affection.

You work your way through the room, bumping into every possible piece of furniture and giggling into Spencer’s open mouth until you land on the couch in his lap. “This is familiar,” he says, smirking a little. Grabbing his jaw, you scowl playfully, leaning in to peck him on the lips.

Experimentally, you roll your hips down, find him deliciously eager under you. “It’s so cute how hard you get just from making out, sweetheart. So needy, baby.” You lean down, kiss his neck, suck a bruise into his soft skin. “What’d you think about?”

“Huh?” he murmurs, eyes glossy and lips swollen, wearing a pretty, dazed face. He’s oh-so gorgeous when you’ve kissed all the thoughts out of his head, operating on pure impulse, uninhibited.

Your fingers creep up to loosen his tie. “You said I couldn’t stop thinking about you. What were you thinking about?” You pull his tie off, untuck his shirt, start working on his buttons. “Was it dirty? Details, honey, c’mon.”

Spencer smiles up at you, angelic. “Not all of it,” he says, tracing delicate little patterns across the small of your back. “Thought about kissing you. A lot. About you laying in my lap, and we’re supposed to be watching a movie, but I’m just looking at you.” Your chest clenches. “How you listen when I talk… I don’t— People think I can’t tell, if they just nod in the right places, but I know.”

“Spencer, honey,” you say softly, kissing and nipping gently at his chest as you unbutton his shirt, exposing inches of silken skin with each movement. “God, you’re perfect.” You sigh, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Spencer brings his hand up to pet your hair, blunt nails scratching soothingly over your scalp.

“But… I, uh. That’s not all I thought about.” He’s nervous, now, the embarrassment that always comes when he wants to voice his desires; you’ve been trying to train it out of him, but it’s achingly slow going.

You smile encouragingly, kissing at his chest and gazing up at him with your best fuck-me eyes. “S’alright, baby. Tell Mommy, okay?”

“Thought about you on top of me. Your pretty… How pretty you look up there.”

You grin wickedly. “My tits, is that what you mean to say? You love your Mommy’s tits, don’t you, honey?” Spencer nods, head falling forward to bury his face in your chest. You let him hide for a moment, collect himself, before you nudge him to speak again.

Spencer’s eyes are glossy, his mouth red and bruised. He looks so sweet, your pretty, pliant little toy, perfectly ready for you to sink your claws into. “Mhmm. Love your tits, Mommy. Thought about you touching me, n’when you’re all mean and you don’t touch me.” He pouts, just a little, and you can’t resist shifting your hips and dragging a thumb across his swollen bottom lip.

“You like it when I’m mean, sweetheart?” He nods, dazed. “You want me to be a little meaner?” Spencer freezes under you, suddenly seeming tense and afraid. Damn. And you’d just gotten him to relax. You stroke his face with the back of your hand to soothe him. “You can say no, honey, it’s okay, I won’t be mad. Just wanna find out what makes you feel good, alright, pretty?”

“No, I… I want it. But just a little. Please.”

“Yeah, honey, that’s alright. But you gotta tell me if it’s ever too much, okay?” Spencer nods, and you raise an eyebrow. “Words, baby.”

It seems to take him a minute to find the words, spit-slick lips parted as he stares at you with lust-blown eyes. “Yes, Mommy. I will. I’ll tell you.”

You grind your hips down in reward, let Spencer roll his up to meet you. Pressing your lips to his, you swallow his whimper. “Good boy,” you murmur, and he beams. “Love it when you get all dumb like this. S’good for you, honey, not to be the clever one all the time.” You pull off his shirt, slide off his lap to admire him from a distance. Before he can whine at the loss, you cut him off. “Did you touch yourself?” Spencer tilts his head. “Sweetheart, did you masturbate thinking about me?”

Spencer’s mouth drops in a soft ‘o’ of understanding, cheeks flushing ruby-woo red. “Yes,” he admits, avoiding your gaze until you force his eyes back to you.

“God, you really are just clueless, huh? C’mon, show Mommy, baby. Show me how you touch yourself.” Spencer blinks dumbly. God, he must be worse off than you thought. “Spencer, honey, I know you jerk off. I heard you every damn night. S’what made me decide I had to get you all to myself.”

At that, the corner of his lip quirks. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was smirking at you. “Is that why you had a box of lingerie delivered to my apartment?” It’s your turn to be speechless. “Profiler,” he adds with a shrug.

“Alright, smartass. It worked, didn’t it?” you scoff. “And stop distracting me.” You set to work on what’s left of his clothes, unbuttoning his pants and palming his cock through his boxers. “Do you take off all your clothes first? Or do you keep ‘em on, make a mess of yourself?”

“No, I… I take them off,” he says. You raise an eyebrow as if to say go on. “Oh, y- you want me to..? Oh, o-okay.” With shaking hands, he slips out of his pants, then his boxers, stained with precum; the evidence of his desire has you practically drooling. His pretty dick springs free, thuds sickly against his stomach with a wet smack.

You can’t help the pulse of arousal that throbs through you at the sight of him. “Good boys don’t keep Mommy waiting, Spencer,” you chide, careful to avoid touching him. It’s clear how acutely he feels the lack of a pet name, the implication of your words, and he babbles out an apology.

Eagerly, you watch Spencer curl his hand around his cock, but he doesn’t move. “I’m sorry. It’s just… it’s hard— Don’t,” he interrupts himself when you smirk. “It’s difficult… with you watching me like this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you croon. “You like to think about my tits, right?” You pull off your shirt, flick it across the room. As if magnetised, Spencer’s eyes fall to your chest as you grab your tits, roll a nipple between two fingers. “There you go, honey. S’just you and your fantasy, okay? Now show me what you do when you think of me, okay?”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, takes a steadying breath. He’s endlessly fascinating; he’ll stare down killers without so much as flinching, but a willing girl with her boobs out is just too much for him. Slowly, he starts to pump his cock, spreading precum down his length. You watch him speed up until he’s jacking himself furiously, hand flying along his dick so hard and fast he must be giving himself friction burn. He bites down on his lower lip, whimpers through his teeth, the sound familiar and erotic. “Mommy,” he whines, high and breathy, hips jerking up into his hand. You can’t watch this much longer.

Placing a palm on his thigh to still him, you slowly cover his hand with your free one. “Honey, is that how you get yourself off?” Brow scrunched in confusion, he nods. God, the poor boy is hopeless. “And that feels good?”

“It makes me orgasm quickly,” Spencer answers, as if that’s remotely the same thing. “I- I have trouble sleeping, and an orgasm releases endorphins that relax both the mind and the body. It helps,” he says placidly.

You nod slowly. “And when you make yourself come like that, does that feel the same as when I make you come?” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t, right? It feels better when I do it?”

“So much,” he breathes. “You’re so much better.”

You smile indulgently down at him. “Oh, honey. That’s because you’re doing it all wrong,” you say, syrupy and condescending. “When you get off, it makes you feel better, right? Yeah. And you’re so focused on that, you forget to make yourself feel good. That genius mind of yours’d be blown finding out how long I could spend getting myself off.” You pat his cheek. “Maybe I’ll show you someday.

A punched-out whimper slips from his lips, the sound falling straight between your legs. “What am I doing wrong?” Spencer asks, low and feeble.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mommy’s gonna show you, okay?” He nods eagerly. Sure, you’ve jerked him off before, but this feels different. You’re not just giving him pleasure, you’re showing him how to take it for himself. “Show me again, but slow, okay?” Obediently, Spencer curls his hand again, pumps his cock. “See, honey, feel that drag? Hurts, right? And not in the good way,” you add with a grin, and Spencer gulps. A slightly wicked idea crosses your mind. “We’re gonna go to bed now, okay?”

Like a lost little puppy, Spencer trails after you, joins you on the bed. You let him kiss you again, until his whines get too needy and his hips start to twitch. “Will you open that top drawer for me, sweetheart? Got something in there that’ll help you, okay?” Obediently, he rolls over, tugs the drawer open. You study his face carefully, watch his jaw go slack as he realises what you’re showing him. Your collection of sex toys stares up at him, and he gapes like a fucking fish. An adorable fish, but a fish all the same.

“What do you… you want me to..?” he says, still staring like he couldn’t possibly compute what you’re asking of him.

You laugh, only a little meanly. “Don’t worry, honey,” you say, padding around the bed to help him out. “You’re not ready for that stuff. Not yet, anyway. You’re such a good boy for Mommy, Spencer, such a quick learner. Pretty soon I’ll have you begging for ‘em. But not tonight, alright?” You lean down to pluck a small plastic bottle from the drawer. “This is all we need tonight. Do you know what that is, baby?”

Squinting his eyes, Spencer inspects the bottle. “Lubricant?” he says, mouth forming the word into a question.

“Such a clever boy,” you croon, settling yourself between his legs and taking his hand. You turn it palm up and squint a generous amount of lube into Spencer’s hand. “Spread that on your pretty dick for me, okay, baby?” The slick sound of it fills your ears, pulses in your cunt, and you can see on his face how much better he feels even from a scant touch. Eyes fluttering shut, he groans, but waits obediently for another instruction. “That’s it. That’s Mommy’s good boy, huh? Alright, honey. Now stroke yourself for me. You wanna start nice and slow, okay?”

You’re transfixed as he begins to touch himself, cock wet and glistening as it disappears into his fist. Lube drips out across his fingers, slick noises filling your room. “Feels so good, Mommy,” he whimpers, free hand fisting in your sheets.

“Oh, honey, I know,” you murmur, sitting up and sliding your hand into your panties. You moan as you brush your clit, collect your wetness on your fingertips. “Okay, I want you to just draw some little circles across the head, yeah? Like you do on my clit. Just try it out, see what feels good.” The sight is fucking mesmerising, and from the sounds spilling from his lips and the flush in his cheeks, it’s a miracle he hasn’t cum all over himself yet. “Alright, baby. Doing so good. You can make yourself cum now, alright? Just keep doin’ what feels good.”

Your lips part around a moan as you watch him. He speeds up, slows a little, experimenting with pace and pressure. You’re strangely proud even as you rub frantic little circles into your clit, slowly start to fuck yourself on your fingers. Desire pools at the base of your spine, and you moan his name as you speed up, cunt pulsing around your fingers. It seems like that’s what does Spencer in, a pathetic whimper of Mommy, yes spilling from his lips as ropes of cum splash up against his chest. His body convulses, gasping and moaning incoherently as his orgasm takes over.

Still panting as you finger yourself, you smile blithely over at him. “Still with me, pretty? How was that?”

Gasping, Spencer blinks helplessly at you for a moment. “Thank you.” Suddenly dismayed, he looks down at himself. “Gross,” he mutters.

Your grin widens. “All messy, aren’t you? You want Mommy to get you cleaned up?” He nods, expecting you to get up and fetch a washcloth. Instead, you press him down until he’s lying supine, lean over him so your boobs hang in his face. Like he can’t resist, Spencer licks a stripe along your chest. You giggle softly, press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, start to work your way down. Carefully, you lap up the mess dripping across his chest, and he moans brokenly. Your eyes flutter closed as his taste hits your tongue, a needy ache burning between your thighs the longer you lick him clean.

He chokes on a breath when you wrap your lips around his head, clean up the last drops of cum beaded on his tip. “I can’t-” he clears his throat. “I can’t… go again… yet,” he says, cheeks pinking up adorably.

You pull off, lick your lips exaggeratedly. “S’okay, honey. I don’t need you to. Yet,” you add with a wink. “Just wanted to get you cleaned up.” Still desperately horny, you crawl up his body, kiss him furiously. “Spencer,” you moan against his lips. “I want you to make me cum. Do you wanna make Mommy cum, baby?”

“Mhmm. Yeah, I want to. What do you…? Can I, uh… Eat you out?” he asks timidly, the final few words unfamiliar on his tongue and belying his desperation.

God above, where did you find this boy? “Another time, honey. Later tonight, if you’re lucky. But I’m planning on keeping your mouth nice and busy for now, okay?” You grab his hand, slide it around to the front of your panties, grind your clit against the heel of his palm through the lace. “Want you to fuck me with your fingers, okay, sweetheart?”

Nodding frantically, Spencer tugs your panties down just enough that he can fit his hand against your cunt. You cup his jaw, kiss him hard as he slips a finger inside you. “You’re so warm,” he breathes, rubbing delicate circles into your clit as your cunt pulses around him.

“That’s it, pretty. Such a good boy. Just like Mommy taught you, alright?” you moan, arching your back as hot pleasure twists under your skin. Spencer slides another finger in, curls then expertly, as if he’s been practicing. Then, a blinding spark of pure ecstasy flashes through you. “Oh, my fucking God! There, baby, right there. Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you babble, your kiss more spit and moans than tongue and lips. Spencer doesn’t let up, hits your g-spot over and over, still rubbing soft circles into your clit. You were already close before he started, and his glorious, frankly brutal assault on the most sensitive places in your body leaves you powerless.

You surrender to it willingly, pure pleasure wiping your mind clean. It’s so forceful you almost black out, gasping into Spencer’s mouth and writhing against him. Ecstasy floods every inch of you, pulse roaring in your ears and hammering in your chest. Spencer’s fingers are still deep inside you when you come to, and he’s staring down at the point they disappear into your cunt. “Sorry,” he murmurs, gently pulling them out. “I just really like being… inside you.”

God, you can’t wait to teach him about cockwarming. “So sweet,” you coo. He lifts his hand, sucks your arousal off his fingers, and you groan. “I think we need to have a little talk, honey,” you murmur, brushing sweat-soaked hair out of his face. He nods.

“I didn’t enjoy it,” he says quickly. “The other night. I mean, it was… It wasn’t… I don’t know. All I could think about was that she wasn’t you. I was, uh… Sort of afraid?” he says with a humorless laugh.

You make a soft, concerned noise. “What do you mean, honey?” Your fists clench at your sides, head pounding furiously all of a sudden.

“Just that… I feel so safe with you. And it wasn’t that she made me feel bad, or unsafe, or anything. But I was so worried about doing something wrong, and I never felt that with you, and all I wanted was you instead.” Spencer curls his body into yours as you hook a leg over his waist.

Brushing your thumb over his cheek softly, you gaze into his sweet, long-lashed eyes. “You have me, sweetheart. I promise.”

#i’m really supposed to be writing an essay but LALALALA #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #writing #smut #neighbor!au

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sapphicandgraphic · 2 months ago

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The Girl Next Door

Synopsis: A new neighbor turns Melissa’s world upside down.

Chapter: 1/10 (The Party)

Series Warnings: Slow burn, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, protective Melissa, fem reader, age difference, WLW

Chapter Warnings: Drinking and drugs, adorable banter

____________________

Chapter 1

Melissa’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what had woken her up. Then the unpleasant thump of bass resumed and she growled, kicking the tangle of sheets off her legs as she reached for the alarm clock on her bedside table.

“12:30 in the morning,” she muttered. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Groping around in the darkness, she pulled on a pair of faded Levi’s and an oversized sweatshirt. Stumbling through the living room, she pressed her eye to the peephole and confirmed the coast was clear before unlocking the door and stepping out into the hall.

The unit directly across from hers was decorated in streamers and hand-drawn posters. The biggest one read “Welcome Home, Hotshot!” in black sharpie. Balling up her fist, Melissa pounded three times on the door.

You were standing in the middle of your new kitchen, just cracking open another beer when you heard a dull thump-thump-thump at the door. The counter was littered with half-empty liquor bottles, solo cups, and melting bags of ice.

“Can somebody get that?” you called over the crowd, tossing the bottle cap in the sink. “It’s probably the pizza.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and then pressed the cool bottle to your forehead, enjoying the relief against your flushed skin. Between moving back to the states, signing your lease, and successfully begging your old boss for a job, you were running on fumes.

A few moments later, Boone appeared at your side. His eyes were red and he had a spliff perched between his lips.

“There’s a woman at the door asking to speak to the owner of the apartment,” he said, pouring a shot of Jameson. “She seemed pretty pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, plucking the shabby little cigarette from his mouth and taking a quick drag before stubbing it out. “You can’t smoke in here,” you told him.

Boone snorted. “Copy that.”

You grabbed another beer from the fridge. Then, stepping over a pile of half-unpacked cardboard boxes, you shuffled around the edge of the packed party and down the short foyer.

One look at the redhead on your doorstep confirmed that she was definitely pissed. But your friend had failed to mention that she was also gorgeous, especially with her long hair tangled from sleep. Your eyes were drawn down to her pink lips, a flirtatious impulse suddenly overtaking you.

“You’re way too hot to be the pizza delivery guy.”

For a moment, you thought she might laugh. A series of emotions danced across her face—surprise, suspicion, disgust. Then she landed on outrage.

“‘Scuse me?”

You winced, scrubbing a hand over your face and blinking hard.

“Sorry,” you said, suddenly wishing the floor would swallow you whole. “I’m very jet lagged. And a little drunk.”

You stepped out in the hall properly.

“Let’s start over,” you said with an apologetic smile. “I’m guessing you’re one of my new neighbors?”

She didn’t smile back. “Ya guess right.”

Her low, raspy voice sent a pleasant shiver down your back. You popped the top of the beer and offered it to her. “Want to come in? We’ve got food on the way and plenty to drink.”

Melissa placed a hand on her hip, fixing you with an incredulous look. Twenty years ago, an invite from a pretty thing like you—tall, tan, with a tipsy glow on your face—might have been enough to tempt her inside.

“Turn down your shitty music,” she said bluntly. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

You laughed and she raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Did I say somethin’ funny?”

“No, no,” you hastened to explain. “It’s just…it is shitty music, isn’t it? Some Polish guy in on the aux and his playlist is a bunch of electronic house trance...”

You trailed off, distracted by the adorable frown on her face. She gave you one last puzzled look before starting to turn away.

“Wait—” you stepped forward hastily, stumbling a bit, not eager to let this woman out of your sight. She was like a firecracker, short fuse just begging to be lit. And you had a thing for danger.

Melissa rounded on you.

“Did I not make myself clear, hotshot?” Her eyes flickered to the shabby poster over your shoulder, clearly unimpressed. “Some of us got work in the mornin’.”

She noticed the furious blush that rose in your face.

“That’s a nickname,” you mumbled, before setting the beers on the floor and introducing yourself properly. Your outstretched hand hung in the air between you for a few seconds until she gripped it briefly. Her skin was soft, warm.

“I just moved back to Philly,” you explained. “I’ve been living abroad for a couple years.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “I don’t need your whole life story, kid.”

“Sorry,” you smiled, charmed by her prickliness. “Guess I’m a little rusty at making small talk.”

“Well ya got about a hundred people in there to practice on,” she said, flicking a tired hand toward your apartment.

You chuckled. “Ironically, I’m not so great at crowds,” you admitted, rubbing your neck awkwardly. “Sort of why I went AWOL in the first place.”

Melissa paused. All your bravado from a few seconds before seemed to slip away. She noticed the shadows under your eyes, the shy way you were smiling at her. Maybe she had been a little too harsh.

Then a particularly loud song crescendoed inside the apartment behind you, and she snapped out of it.

“See, you’re doin’ that whole life story thing again, hon,” she said, dropping your hand. “Tell those jabronis to pack up the DJ booth.”

She was about to disappear inside her apartment.

“Your sweater’s on backwards,” you called.

Melissa stilled, hovering on the threshold. Her back was turned, so you missed the small smile that hooked to the side of her face.

“Go to bed, hotshot,” she said, with none of her previous venom.

Then she was gone.

Chapter 2

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #Melissa schemmenti x original character #abbott elementary

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foxintheferns · 1 year ago

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I'd love to see Jacob with a single mama. I'd love it if he imprinted on her while she's playing with her little one on the beach. She could be Charlie's niece who he helped move to Forks to give her a fresh start with the little one. I'm thinkin the kiddo is about 1-2, old enough to walk/play in the sand but still young. I can see Jacob being the best papa ever and the pack just LOVING on the kid <3 Please and thank you! <3

Thank you so much for your patience with this one! Because I made you wait so long, I made it a long one <3. Loved writing such sweet lil fluffy stuff. Please enjoy :)

A/N: AU where Jacob and Bella aren’t toxic & weirdly obsessed with each other, and he has his own life and experiences outside of her! Period.

HOME

You sat on the sand with Lydia between your legs, her wispy, silky auburn hair blowing between your fingers with each soft gust of the salty breeze. You faced the ocean, La Push beach surrounding you in all of its striking glory.

Lydia babbled as she played with the sand, her back to you and her arms and legs quite literally covered in the granules. It would be her second birthday in two months, and you couldn’t understand where the time had gone. She grew so quickly, her chunky little arms and legs getting longer by the day, and you wished desperately that you could pause time.

Your ex boyfriend Noah, Lydia’s father, hadn’t wanted much to do with the raising of his child.

You looked down at the side of her sweet face, the buttery soft skin of her cheek glowing with the orange light of the afternoon. It was despicable that anyone could not want to love this tiny human, you thought, that anyone would even consider leaving her by choice. But that was exactly what Noah had done. His booze and his gambling was far too important to him to bother with the raising of a small child.

It made you angry; you felt a relentless and almost violently intense need to protect her. From everything ugly and awful and false in this world, even if that meant her own father. He had never treated you right, always gone for nights at a time doing who knows what with God knows who. The pregnancy had been an accident, but his reaction was not what you’d expected. He’d seemed to be on-board at first, but was never there for you during your difficult pregnancy. You thought back to how your muscles had ached as you were on all fours scrubbing the bathroom floor that one Saturday night, seven months pregnant and inconceivably exhausted. He had come home after being gone for two days, reeking of liquor and barely having time to slur out his angry question of what you were planning on making for dinner before he’d passed out on the living room couch.

You had been expecting Lydia’s birth to snap him back to reality, to throw things into perspective for him. But the man you had practically grown up with, together since 18, had missed her birth.

“Got caught up at work,” had been his excuse when he showed up at the hospital the next morning. Even the labor and delivery nurse had thrown him a glare.

When Lydia was 3 months old, you were forced to go part-time at the job you’d loved, the one that could actually lead somewhere. Without Noah’s help, childcare was next to impossible. Your neighbor, Jess, a stay at home mom of three, was kind enough to babysit Lydia with her own children for a few days out of the week, but you felt awful not being able to pay her much, if anything, most weeks.

After over a year of trying, of desperately hoping and yearning for the man you had once loved to be a father to your sweet girl, you’d finally thrown in the towel. Noah had made it clear that he had no interest in being a dad, and in one of his more blacked-out stupors, had even remarked that if the two of you hadn’t gotten pregnant, things would’ve been easier. Better.

Noah had been gone 11 days, his longest absence yet.

You’d packed your minimal belongings, gathering Lydia’s too and putting them into her tiny suitcase with strawberries on it.

Your mom had passed when you were 16, and your dad was very much like Noah. Oh, how patterns repeat themselves. You didn’t have much of a support system to fall back on when shit hit the fan.

The one person you knew would answer if you called was your Mom’s brother, Charlie.

“(Y/N)?,” his gruff, tired voice had come through the phone that early Tuesday morning. You knew it was probably only 4am in Forks, where he was, but he’d still answered the phone.

“Uncle Charlie…,” you’d whimpered shakily, “I-….”

You didn’t even know where to begin. Uncle Charlie had always been so good to you, checking in and asking how Lydia was frequently. He’d been one of the few people you’d called to share the exciting news of your pregnancy with, and had been ecstatic, urging that you come visit him and your cousin Bella as soon as you could.

“What’s goin’ on? You okay?”, His voice had become suddenly alarmed, and you’d heard the shuffling in the background of him getting up and out of his bed.

Leaving with Lydia was something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but you didn’t think you could actually follow through with it. Saying it out loud felt impossible.

“I need your help,” you’d whispered, your voice low and on the verge of breaking.

That was two weeks ago now.

You sat on the soft sand with Lydia, her tiny fingers gripping your leg for support as she pulled herself up, and you thought back to the fear you’d felt that day. Charlie had immediately paid for a plane ticket for you and Lydia to fly up to Port Angeles. He didn’t waste a moment in inviting you to come stay with him. He’d been clearly enraged, barely hiding his distaste for Noah’s behaviors once you’d let the floodgates open and told him everything you’d been hiding for months.

“Jesus, (y/n). I thought you guys were doing good…I thought he was different, honey. I’m so sorry, kid,” Charlie had spoken into the phone after the words pouring from your mouth had finally come to a halt once you’d gotten him caught up on the current status of your relationship with your baby’s father. You hadn’t realized it, but you’d been hiding it from practically everyone. Your cousin Bella texted you often, and she knew some of the details of how absent Noah had become, but even she didn’t know the extent of it. You were a single mother, from the moment Lydia was conceived, you’d accepted that. Noah was never a dad to her.

“Mama! San!” Lydia’s tiny voice shrieked out as she grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it in front of her, some of it spraying in the breeze and landing across your chest and arms. She tentatively waited for your reaction. Her eyes scanned your face, her pink cheeks pulled into an ecstatic smile. You laughed, shaking your head, and wiped the rough granules off of your skin as you nodded at her.

“Yes, sand!” You picked up a handful of it, holding it out to show her and letting it spill through your fingers. She shrieked again, excited by your intentional dropping of the sand, and jumped several times, her little legs barely able to lift her half an inch off the ground.

You’d been down at the beach in La Push almost every day now. You’d gotten settled in to the extra bedroom at the Swan’s house, and you couldn’t help but feel like a burden, so you went out with Lydia often. Charlie and Bella had insisted, several times, that they were grateful to have the two of you. That they didn’t feel burdened by your presence. A toddler definitely wasn’t the quietest or most polite house guest, but Lydia was truly the best thing you’d ever done, and you prided yourself that you’d managed to raise such a good tiny human all on your own.

She was kind, and gentle. She loved animals, she loved making new friends. She watched the world around her with curious and eager eyes, anxious to explore and see and feel. She laughed and laughed and laughed; she was the giggliest baby you’d ever seen.

Bella offered to watch her whenever you needed a break, and you hadn’t asked for one yet. She was practically begging to babysit Lydia at this point, which had surprised even her; she wasn’t much of a kid person.

You didn’t want a break. You were soaking up this time with your little one as much as you could. You felt free, for the first time in a long time.

The beach felt like home now, and Lydia seemed to think so too. Every time you walked with her down the dirt path toward the beach, she would screech and try her best to run towards the glistening ocean. You’d been at the beach now for an hour or two, and you reached into your bag to pull out more baby sunscreen for her.

“Lyd, come ‘ere babe.” You reached out, gently pulling her to you, and her eyes landed on the pink bottle of sunscreen. She knew the drill at this point, and gingerly leaned against you as you rubbed the cream across her tiny little shoulders and arms. She giggled and smiled as the cold sunscreen landed on her skin.

“Eeee!” She cried, slapping her small hands against your leg as she pulled her face away in protest to you trying to spread the sunscreen across her cheeks. She still stood in place though, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting as you rubbed it in.

“Thank you, baby. Such a good girl,” you cooed as you snapped the lid of the sunscreen closed and placed a kiss on the tip of her little nose. You continued to pepper her face with smooches until she was a screeching, giggling mess on the sand, her arms and legs flailing every which way. You tickled her, both of you laughing loud enough for the sound to travel over the noise of the rolling waves hitting the beach.

After the tickle attack came to an end, you grabbed some strawberries and blueberries from your bag, pulling open the Tupperware container and holding it out to Lydia. Her eyes lit up (strawberries are her all time fave) and she eagerly grabbed at the berries with both hands. After several minutes of snacking, her mouth and face was stained pink and red, and her fingers were sticky. The sand was still warm, although the breeze was starting to cool off a bit.

“Let’s walk, yeah Lyddi?,” you asked, getting up from your large towel and brushing the sand off of your legs. She bounced around beside the towel, falling a few times onto the soft sand as she lost her balance. You held your hand out and smiled down at her, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She reached out without hesitation, allowing you to envelope her tiny hand in yours, and let you lead her down towards the water.

You walked across the gentle waves, only going far enough so that the incoming swells flowed across your feet and ankles. With each wave hitting the shore, Lydia giggled and gripped your hand firmly, picking her feet up as quickly as she could to run from the water as it approached, only to run back towards it when it receded. You bent down, releasing her hand to skim the ocean water, wetting your fingers to clean the berry juice from her face.

As you were wiping your thumb across the soft skin of her chin, you saw her eyes flicker to something behind you, down the beach. Her gaze was intent and focused, and you glanced over your shoulder to see what managed to catch her constantly fleeting attention. A group of four tall men coming down the beach, kicking a soccer ball amongst their group. Their laughter was just reaching your ears now, and they were coming close enough that you were able to make out their faces.

They were quite large, and all but one of them were shirtless. The image rang a bell: they looked like they could be some of the Quileute boys you’d heard Bella mention were her close friends. You knew the beach was on the local Quileute reservation, but it’d been relatively empty in the days you and Lydia had been spending there, and you’d only seen random tourists walking along the beach occasionally. Bella had complained jokingly to you that these friends of hers were annoyingly always shirtless, impossibly large and tall, and that her boyfriend Edward wasn’t the biggest fan of them.

You smiled when one of them looked down the beach towards you and Lydia, and he seemed to return a polite smile at first, but his face melted into an odd expression when your eyes met. It was an indecipherable look. A look you didn’t understand.

He stopped walking, his body halting while his friends continued to move down the beach ahead of him. For a moment, it almost seemed like he was about to wave or come towards you, as if he recognized you like an old friend. The peculiar expression lingered for a moment before he pulled his eyes away quickly, and you saw his mouth moving as he seemed to speak swiftly to the men around him. His friends stopped walking as well, all turning to face him with bewildered expressions. The eye contact between you had been longer than a typical interaction with a stranger, but you felt oddly unalarmed. You were struck with an odd sensation that felt like you recognized him too.

He was the tallest of the group, his shoulders wide & strong. His frame was long and lean, and he happened to be the only one wearing a shirt, though it was a black cut off tank that didn’t cover much of his chiseled musculature underneath. You brushed the encounter off as random and probably explainable, trying to ignore the odd and unfamiliar sensation that prickled across your entire body like electricity.

You turned back to Lydia, but her curious eyes were still locked on the group behind you, wonder filling her face. A smile crept onto your lips as you watched her blink, her long lashes framing her wide eyes. She was beautiful. She was always so curious, so interested. Strangers made her nervous, like any two year old, though, which is why you were utterly bewildered when she broke away from your grasp and started toddling down the shore towards the group of men. You shot up from your lowered position, chasing after her.

“Lydia!” you called, your feet picking up pace.

It was amazing just how fast a two year old could be when they suddenly decided they had a destination in mind. You caught her under the armpit just as she almost fell across the wet sand in her run, and your knees hit the soft sand as you almost fell yourself. You panted, holding onto her and unable to stifle back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“What the heck! Lyd-,” you started, looking up from where you grasped her. She was frozen, staring up at something.

She’d managed to close the distance between the two of you and the men, quickly enough that the soccer ball they’d been passing around as they came down the beach was only feet away now. You followed her gaze, and saw two large hands come down to swiftly pick up the ball. Your eyes moved up more still, until they landed on the face of the man you’d just locked eyes with moments before.

His gentle brown eyes were wide, his jaw slack and his expression yet again incomprehensible. You still had a smile on your face, and his eyes flicked down to your grin, the corners of his own mouth lifting up slightly. He gestured toward you with the arm that held the soccer ball.

“You’re, uh, Bella’s cousin?” The sound of his voice was rough and deep. Your grin faltered to make way for the suprised expression that came across your face.

“Oh, uh, yeah! Um, you know Bella?” You asked, taking the brief moment to get back up onto your feet and readjust the flowy fabric of your sundress that had gotten ruffled up in the capturing of your tiny escapee. You still held Lydia’s hand, and she stayed unmoving by your side, watching the tall man with the same awed expression. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes maintained the same electric glow they’d had from the moment you’d looked at him.

“Bella’s one of my best friends, yeah. She’s told me a lot about you…and… uh Lydia, right?” He spoke gently, his eyes glancing down at the tiny human to your right. You looked down at her, too, and she smiled timidly up at the man, stepping slightly behind your leg shyly. You beamed back at him, nodding and running your fingers through the soft silky baby hair on the top of Lydia’s head.

“Yeah, this is Lydia,” you replied, ruffling her hair until a soft giggle fell from her lips.

“I’m Jacob Black,” he glanced beyond him briefly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “those are my buddies Quil, Embry, and Jared. You’re (Y/N)?”

You glanced briefly over to the other three men, though they were now immersed in their own mumbled conservation several yards away; one of them was watching you with interest and flashed a warm smile back at you.

You nodded, turning back to Jacob.

“That’s me,” you answered with a shrug and a smile. When you met his gaze again, his eyes were intense, almost pained, his pupils wide. That electric feeling ran through you again. The eye contact between the two of you lingered each and every time it occurred, as if it was an inconvenience to pull away from it for both of you. Jacob knelt down on one knee, tucking the soccer ball under his arm. His eyes only broke away from yours to glance down at Lydia, who was still watching him intently from her place next to your leg.

“Hi, Lydia, it’s nice to meet you,” he murmured gently, “I’m Jacob.”

There was a hesitation, and you were just about to encourage Lydia to say hello to Jacob, but to your surprise she broke away from you once more, ambling across the sand and reaching her arms out towards the soccer ball Jacob held under his arm. In her uncoordinated stumbling over the sand, she started to fall forwards. Before you could even begin to reach to catch her, one of Jacob’s large hands came out in a flash to support her, stopping her mid fall.

“Woah, buddy, careful there!” He exclaimed, a chuckle coming from his chest.

At the sound of his laughter, your baby beamed up at him, her expression suddenly delighted, and after a moment, a giggle erupted from her own little body.

Your eyes widened, shocked as you watched her laugh, Jacob’s large hand still holding her up off the sand. His eyes flickered to you as you broke into surprised laughter as well, and soon the three of you were a giggling mess. Lydia adored making adults laugh. It was the phase she was currently in: to laugh at everything anyone deemed amusing, and it was common that she would even fake laugh to get you to laugh, which would often result in a real fit of hysterics from the both of you

You were astonished that she’d warmed to a stranger so quickly, especially such a large man - a category of human that toddlers tend to decide is terrifying for no reason.

As the afternoon started to bleed into evening, you and Lydia got to know your new friends. Lydia was very opposed to moving away from them, interested in the soccer ball and jumping around in the sand. Jacob continued to stare intently at you every moment that his eyes weren’t required to be on something else, and you didn’t mind it. His energy was warm and gentle, and even his friends seemed to find his behavior entertaining, chuckling and whispering to eachother every time Jacob’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds too long. You couldn’t help but feel the heat rush to your face with his stares. You hadn’t really felt this noticed by someone, a man, in what felt like forever. And he was absolutely noticing you. He was doing more than notice you. He was ogling at you, drinking the sight of you in like fresh air for a suffocating man. His eyes turned gentle and soft whenever they fell upon Lydia, and he spent the time as the two of you spoke truly attending to her and her endless toddler games, showing earnest interest in the shells she had picked up and started to stack on one of his feet.

“Oooh, wow, now that one’s pretty. Definitely my favorite one yet.” He carefully examined the newest purple shell Lydia had found and handed to him for inspection. She smiled and clenched her fists in excitement, eagerly racing to find more shells in the sand to bring to him.

His eyes slowly found their way back to yours as you sat beside one another. You smiled softly, and he returned it, the smile reaching his eyes and crinkling them gently.

There it was again, that electricity.

Six Months Later

It had been a whirlwind, these past six months. Meeting Jacob Black had changed life entirely for you and your daughter. After that night on the beach, you, Charlie and Bella had visited the Blacks’ home a few times, joining them for bonfires and pizza dinners whenever a hockey game was on tv. Bella seemed adamant that you visit Jacob often, even Charlie seemed surprised with how eagerly she encouraged you to join them and hang out with the Quileute boys. You’d met Jacob’s father, who seemed to welcome you into his family without hesitation within moments of meeting you. He had peered at you with an intensely inquisitive expression, something that reminded you of the odd gut feeling you hadn’t been able to shake…that your new acquaintances were far more interesting than they let on. There was just something about them, and it felt like a secret club you were looking in on, one that caused the hushed, private conversations that seemed to happen frequently in their presence. You’d spoken to Bella about your encounter with her friend right after that first night on the beach. As the rest of that week had passed, Bella had begun acting suspiciously around you. Within days of her odd avoidant behavior, she finally sat you down to tell you things that challenged your perception of the world, forever.

Vampires and werewolves.

Insanity, right?

Bella had explained her relationship with Edward, and you hadn’t believed it at first.

Like, at all. Who would?

In fact, you thought she’d been completely off her rocker, crazy.

That was, until she’d claimed that Jacob had something to do with it, too.

“You need to go talk to Jacob,” she’d urged, “only he can explain what you need to know.”

You’d been absolutely confused, unsure what Jacob Black had to do with anything, especially with this absurd tale of vampires.

“I’ll watch Lydia. Go,” she’d insisted, practically pushing you out the front door. You were insanely curious; you’d never had any reason to question Bella’s mental competence before, and with her frantic efforts to get you to talk to Jacob, you had to know what this was all about. You still of course doubted the absurd story, but wanted to get to the root of the craziness, naturally.

When you’d arrived at the Black’s house, it seemed Jacob was expecting you, and he’d grabbed your hand gently, pulling you towards his little makeshift garage in the back.

You’d spent hours with him that night. Jacob had tried, while his eyes watered and his voice shook nervously, to explain the wildly unbelievable, and yet somehow completely sensical and validating reality of his ancestral destiny.

“I know, (y/n). Please, believe me, I know this sounds crazy,” he’d said as he anxiously paced across the garage, his eyes flashing to your face for your reaction.

You’d shaken your head, trying to connect the dots in your mind. It matched up with the absurd story Bella had told you, only this time he was speaking of wolves, wolves with the instinctual duty to protect from the supposed vampires Bella become involved with deeply. Wolves that were not wolves, but men. Men that included Jacob and his friends.

“Come with me,” he’d finally insisted sternly as you’d silently refused to accept the words he spoke, staring at him dumbfoundedly.

He’d led you outside, to the dark treeline, and placed his hands up in front of him before you could protest.

“Listen, I know this is gonna be hard to see, (y/n). I didn’t wanna have to do this but I need you to understand. There’s so much more to this world than you think there is. Please,” he’d begged, pulling you into a tight hug, his eyes wildly urging yours to listen to him, his shaky voice reducing to a whisper against your hair, “I understand if you never, ever want to be a part of this. But you deserve to know.”

You’d shaken your head, bewildered.

“What are you talking about, Jake?”

He stood back and started to pull his pants down, and your eyes widened, your eyebrow cocking up in confusion. A smile flashed across his lips.

“Remember what I just told you. I’d never hurt you, okay?”

Your mind flickered to the story he’d just spent the last hour telling you, but your brain simply wouldn’t allow you to defy logic to consider the possibility that the man was truly actually about to turn into a wolf.

And yet, you stood there with your jaw slacked open and your eyes wide, your body frozen as he stepped back several feet, his body twitching and trembling and twisting oddly before…

A ripping sound rang out, a wildly violent sound that came from deep within his body. The sound echoed against the trees, before it fell hauntingly silent across the dark backyard. Within less than a moment, a massive red brown wolf was standing before you, his huge head only inches away from your face.

Your mind didn’t comprehend the sight, the reality too unreal and too intangible to wrap around and understand. Those same brown eyes you’d come to know and feel safe in stared back at you intently from the massive wolf’s face.

It was the last image you remembered before you’d fallen to the ground, slipping into a shock driven unconsciousness.

When you’d woken, you had been in Jacob’s bed, an ice pack being gently repeatedly pressed to your forehead and neck.

It had been a rude awakening, but one that had forced open your eyes to a world that quickly became home for you, lifting the veil of reality that you’d come know.

Jacob’s next explanation was that of the concept of imprinting. That night, after you’d settled and moved out of your state of shock, started speaking real words again, Jacob expressed why he felt it was necessary to expose you to his world. He’d explained the ancient way of imprinting, what it meant for him, what it meant for you. That first day on the beach, the way he’d look at you, that electricity. It all made sense now.

“It’s you, (y/n). Now that you’re here, I will follow you anywhere. Even if you don’t want to be part of this, I’ll always protect you and Lydia from afar. Always. I can’t imagine a world anymore without you, a life without you. The moment I saw you, I felt it. My heart was yours,” he’d murmured, his arms around you as he rubbed your back to calm your tremors that had come across your body as you tried desperately to adjust to your entirely new concept of existence.

That felt so long ago, now. You’d met the Cullens soon after you were welcomed into the world of the supernatural, joining Bella in her secretive lifestyle of hiding the direct truth from Charlie, only letting him in on what he absolutely needed to know. Charlie was over the moon that you and Jacob got together; he pissed Bella off with how openly he approved of your relationship with Jacob over hers with Edward. Jacob didn’t feel right having you live in a spare bedroom at the Swan house, and had practically demanded you move into a home on the reservation with him. He’d jokingly insisted that it wasn’t his fault, that the imprint had forced him to need you in his sight at all times. You didn’t resist, elated to finally feel welcome in a home with your Lydia. And it wasn’t hard - Jacob made that incredibly simple. He so openly loved Lydia nearly as much as he loved you. Sometimes, you wondered how deeply the imprinting had impacted him. He accepted it and took it on with respect. He never pressured you to be anything but there, in his life. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest or even really notice how slowly you were allowing him into your heart. The relationship you had with Jacob had begun as a deep and true friendship, but the imprint connection was impossible to ignore, and there was undeniable attraction you felt for him, even beyond his beautifully kind heart and spirit. You held hands constantly, even before you’d established any sort of romantic connection. The first night Jacob had kissed you, you’d expressed your hesitation at pulling him into your life. You’d gotten used to men not wanting much to do with a single mom, after Noah had made it clear that you and Lydia were essentially a burden in his life. You were scared, not only for your own heart, but for Lydia’s. You couldn’t bear to bring another man into her life only for him to reject her like her father had. But Jacob? He’d adamantly refused to let your anxieties overcome you. He loved you, he’d insisted. All of you. Lydia was part of you. So, he loved her. It was that simple to him. He was often just as anxious when Lydia was out of his sight as when you were.

You remember the first time Lydia had called Jake ‘Dada’, several months after you’d been exposed to this world of fantasy. Lydia had gotten so comfortable with him, more comfortable than she’d been with any person, besides you, before. She babbled with excitement every time she heard you or Charlie or Bella mention him, and begged to see him frequently. Once you’d moved into the small red house with Jacob, she’d jump and squeal every time his truck pulled into the driveway at the end of the day.

That day she first said the word, you’d nervously glanced at his face, searching for his response.

She’d been holding his hand, walking along the shore at La Push. It was winter by this point, but Lydia needed her regular beach walk, and was bundled in her tiny red puffer jacket and white hat. She’d stooped down to pick up a shell, gripping it in her small fist, and jerked her hand out to him, dropping the shell into his hand.

“Dada!” She’d squealed as she waited for his approval of the shell.

His eyes had lit up and an expression of utter shock, which had quickly shifted into ecstatic bliss, moved across his features. His eyes had flashed to yours, and he clearly struggled, with everything in him, to hold back a massive grin. He was unsure of your reaction. Your eyes had melted back at him, and you were completely unable to resist the smile that crossed your lips. His dark eyes had turned glossy, and he’d looked back down at Lydia’s impatiently waiting face as she’d stared up at him, grasping the shell and embracing her in a massive bear hug. She’d laughed and shrieked, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

At Lydia’s 2nd birthday party, the whole pack had celebrated with you and Jacob at Billy’s house. The rest of the boys had happily taken on the role of proud uncles, practically fighting over who could hold her whenever you brought her over.

Life was peaceful, and you’d taken on a job at the La Push Farmer’s market. Childcare was a breeze now: on any given day while you were at work, either Sue & Charlie or Emily would eagerly babysit Lydia if Jacob was out on patrol or working his shift as a mechanic at the local bike shop. Lydia now had a family that was larger and more loving than you could have ever dreamed for her.

And you couldn’t ignore the fateful gift that you’d received too. Jacob Black was yours, and you were his. And you knew that, without a single doubt, he’d protect you and your daughter with relentless fervor for the rest of your lives.

You were safe. You were loved.

You were home.

#twilight #imagines #fanfic #twilight imagines #jacob black #jacob black x reader

831 notes · View notes

jaetyun · 9 months ago

Text

your biggest fan.

04. rodrick heffley

wc: roughly 1.4k ish

"my arms hurt"

"your arms always hurt" your insistent whines only prove to make eunseoks jaw tick in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to take the luggage in his hands and throw it at your face until you fall backwards. it would really funny too, he notes. "plus, you're the one that said you'd help in any way you could."

"i know i said that but i was thinking like, hanging out with anton in his studio all day" you huff, stopping halfway through the hallway to do a small hop, an attempt to readjust the box in your hands. "why'd i get the heavier shit? you literally work out" you're met with a teasing shrug, eunseok opening the door and holding it for you in a small token of pity. rather than a thank you, you reply with scrunching your face, sticking your tongue out in childish rebellion.

the two of you have been packing up the essentials in the house that doubled as their practice and resident hangout spot. the rest would be on the way eventually, though you were sure eunseok had sent them on random errands to delay the inevitable: you seeing sohee and wonbin.

it's not like you hadn't all hung out in this very house countless times, this being your childhood home eunseok inherited once college started. you've spent most of your formative years on the same couch you could spot even from outside the house (where you currently stood, box still in hands from being lost in thought and forgetting how heavy it is), watching a movie the boys had picked purely to watch your discomfort. when you weren't watching a movie, sometimes they'd sneak into the liquor cabinet, not allowing you to leave until you had tried some with them. or maybe the fonder memories were when they weren't being mean to you, like karaoke nights or when you watched them practice with the makeshift drums and guitar they had. the practices they had now were much more professional and definitely sounded better, but it was undeniable you were far more fond of the ones before they got big, back when their biggest problem was learning how to read music.

you were startled back to reality by eunseok finally having remorse, snatching the box from your hand and placing it carefully with the other necessities you were storing on the porch for easier delivery when shotaros big ass truck got there. you mumbled a thanks, crunching and releasing your fingers in tandem now that they're finally free, watching your brother silently nod before walking back inside first. he's definitely gotten softer since middle and high school, and the terrorizing brother who used your misery as entertainment had faded with puberty.

"i'm hungry" your complaining starts up again, following into the kitchen where you make a dramatic display of your tragedy by laying down on the island table. eunseok scoffs, placing a water bottle next to you mid tantrum. "the guys will be back in like 20 minutes with food, you can survive." at the reminder, you turn around so you're now on your stomach, swaying your feet in the air with a grin. your brother stares at you for a second, a mix of judgment and disgust overtaking his face. "dont go ignoring everyone else when he gets here. especially sohee, you barely glance his direction at this point. it's honestly really depressing to watch"

your eyebrows raise at this, glancing at your brother suspiciously. "you want me to pay attention to sohee? what did he bribe you with to get you to say that" you sigh out, fidgeting with the water bottle cap while speaking.

"you've known him longer, he misses his friend." he walks over, pinching your cheeks to coo at you before you're swatting his hand away. "eugh! i dunno what's infected your brain to be asking me to hang out with sohee when normally i'm not allowed in a 10 foot radius of your friends. need me to babysit him or something?" he rolls his eyes, taking a seat in one of the chairs while you still sat stomach down, your head now resting on your crossed arms. "he's not even the youngest. i just think you shouldn't be so googoo gaga over wonbin, it's weird."

as if on queue, the door swung open, bag of greasy fast food in antons hand while he did a sing song hum to signify he's home.

"yn get off the island! you're gross germs are gonna get on the food" shotaro nags, walking toward you while you slowly shuffle off. "you'd love it if you had my cooties, it'd the first time a woman gave you anything-" eunseok covers your mouth with his hand, using the momentum to push you back so he could take a peak inside the to-go bags. he made quick work of it, taking the wrapped burgers and handing it out to the regular buyers of that item.

once you got your requested order, you glanced at sohee, the words your brother said ringing in your head. looking around, you spotted wonbin after, eyes softening and feet about to work on autopilot before you blinked yourself back to reality. sohee was in the corner of the kitchen, resting against the counter seemingly in his own world. looking back at wonbin, it was clear he was occupied talking to anton while they surveyed the drinks and messed with them inside the carrier. after pausing for a moment, your feet begun to move again, walking toward the person you'd rather talk to.

"heehee" you hum, walking over to sohee who was inspecting his burger. he gave you a nod, a smile etching on his face even if his gaze immediately returned to the burger. "is it true you miss your ex bestie?" you tease, hands under your chin to frame your face while batting your eyelashes. he snickers, deciding to dismiss the burger entirely and now focusing on you. he nods in confirmation, the cheeky smile still on his face. "we never hang out anymore, alone or in a group"

your pose drops, sticking a tongue out at him. "well that's your fault for homie hopping to my brother" wonbin walks over to where you guys stood in the kitchen, drink in one hand while the other slides onto the counter next to sohee. "why're you guys hiding from us?" although it's clear there's humor in his voice, he gives sohee an unreadable expression before sohees rolling his eyes, gesturing to you. "she came over here to pick on me." your eyes widened, scared of making a bad impression on wonbin and him viewing you as anything other than the alluring gentle girl. "not true!" there sohee goes, setting operation loverboy back 15 steps.

"oh. well then leave him alone yn" you nod dumbly, an apologetic smile on your face. he returns the smile before turning back to sohee. "we're loading the truck right now, we could use the extra hands" he gives sohee, who is now also exchanging an expression you can't quite place, a hardy pat on his forearm before swiftly exiting. sohee sighs, taking one last bite out the mostly untouched burger before looking back at you. "well i'm glad you decided to join us on tour, i dunno about anyone else know i missed your company. make sure to say hi to shotaro and anton too" he finishes, now sliding off the counter and rolling up his sleeves while walking toward the front door. watching all the boys pile out, you sat there wordlessly. this was the first time you were truly gonna be surrounded by the band and only the band, and though you were more than happy to spent most of your time with wonbin it soon sunk in how everyone else would be there too. sohee seemed more excited to see you than even hiyyih, who was the president of your fanclub. shotaro and anton were the same as ever, adding to the group what the other three lacked in high school perfectly. though you joined purely for your quest with wonbin, it soon became clear this trip was about a lot more than you trying to win over your lover boy. it wasn't until your phone dinged that you had snapped back to reality, hand automatically going to your pocket to reply.

previous - masterlist - next

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

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graymackenzieandpartners · 1 month ago

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classicwines · 1 year ago

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ryusuisloveinterest · 1 year ago

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Valentine Headcanons about (almost) every fictional character I love 💕

happy Valentine’s Day to everyone! I hope you know you are appreciated and cared for! Here are some Headcanons on how my fictional crushes would spend Valentine’s Day 💓

featuring: Daiki aomine, Sasuke Uchiha, Takumi Fujiwara, Rindou Haitani, Jean Kirstein, Ryusui Nanami, Spike Spiegel, Hisashi Mistui, Matt Holt, Taehoon Seong, and Damian Wayne

Daiki Aomine:

He’s playing basketball 💀

You’re 100000% sure he forgot what today was because when you gave him a handmade lunch AND a net for catching bugs he just stares at it like “what is this for?”

So as you sadly sit on the bench watching him play

But then he falls idiot

You sigh and walk over to him. “You ok Daiki?”

He groans and kneels with a bracelet in his hand blushing

“H-happy Valentine’s Day…”

You’re speechless. Only for a short moment of course, you quickly begin laughing your ass off

“W-what’s so funny?! Damn Kise telling me to do dumb shit…”

“I love it Daiki! Where’d you get it?”

“S-satski taught me…”

This man has the largest amount of pride but will always throw it aside for you!

Sasuke Uchiha:

You both would either stay home or be somewhere private

You both have this secret spot in the woods that you guys have been going to ever since you were kids

So it’s no surprise on your 15th valentines together that’s where the two of you would be

With the little snacks and dinner entrees the both of you made to surprise each other and the nice lighting and river it was perfect

This is also the time he’s most vulnerable with you; kissing your hands, neck, cheek, arms, and of course your lips ;)

He whispers sweet things in your ear and tells you how he’s never loved like this and won’t with anyone else

“You’re my everything (y/n). I look at you and see a future brighter than all the stars out tonight.”

It’s safe to say he only and will only ever love you

Takumi Fujiwara:

You’ve always went on Tofu runs when you could with Takumi, and it was no different for Valentine’s Day

When he arrives at your house he’s standing there with a small bouquet

“Is there anything you want to do today?” He asks you as he drives to the hotel

You shake your head. “It doesn’t really matter as long as I’m with you!”

He can’t help but smile

When he’s done with the deliveries he pulls into a parking lot in front of Lake Akina

“Can w-we just sit here for a while then? I really just want to be with you.”

You smile at him and lean your head as close as you can to his shoulder. “I’d love that Takumi.”

Rindou Haitani:

Rindou takes you dancing

You both love to dance so it was a win

But of course after that he takes you home

You both cuddle on each other and watch random movies

Rindou has the finest liquor out and the sweetest chocolate and all your other favorite sweets

He kisses up and down your shoulder as you sit in his lap holding one of his hands

“You’re mine (y/n). And you’re gonna be for my next valentine and the one after that…”

Jean Kirstein

He cooks for you!

He makes you sit there patiently while he scrambles around creating the perfect meal

“Jean, i don’t mind helping you. I think it’ll be a lot easier if-“

“I got this (y/n)! Just sit there and look beautiful! Tell me about your day. You know I love to hear your voice.”

After he’s FINALLY done cooking, you dine together in the not so fancy living area, but the both of you don’t care

Jean did his best to clean up and set the sweet, loving tone and that’s all that matters to you.

“I love you (y/n). Thank you for making me so happy.”

Ryusui Nanami:

This man goes all out💀

As soon as you wake up it’s the most perfect breakfast in bed

He has to leave to work but literally leaves you his black card to treat yourself and constantly has people arriving with beautiful flowers every 5 minutes

He comes back for lunch and talks to you

“Has your valentines been well? I’ll make sure that you have the best day ev-“

“I really like all the things Ryusui really i do, but…I just really want to spend time with you…”

He pauses

Then calls in like it’s nothing!

The rest of the day is the two of you lay in bed together and act all cutesy!

“I’m glad you’re my valentines dear. It’s been one amazing day.”

Spike Spiegel:

This broke man does his best I’ll give him that

He buys you flowers and takes you to a pretty nice restaurant. Nothing too fancy but it’s nicer than you normally go to

He lets you order first and gets him something small, which is weird for this man

You both talk for hours the waitstaff is so annoyed

After you two are FINALLY done you both walk back to the Bebop

“Why did you eat so little Spike? You’re normally chowing down!”

He chuckles and keeps walking, “wasn’t that hungry.”

“Come on spike, we’re practically married, I can tell when you’re lying!”

He sighs and mumbled something

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure I had enough money for you to eat…”

You stop in your tracks

“Spike…”

You kiss him lovingly

“Thank you Spike. I love you so much.”

He smiles, “ditto.”

Hisashi Mitsui

You’re probably his first valentines tbh

He waits at a cafe with flowers in his hand

When you show up he’s bright red. You’re not even wearing and saying anything spectacular he’s just so nervous lol

You sit next to each other and talk snack and laugh about everything and anything

After the cafe you head to the park

And after that you go to little stores you see along the way

Mitsui buys you a stuffed animal you were looking at and you bought him a chain necklace he glanced at

It was a really great valentines, especially since it was first

“T-thanks for being my valentine (y/n). I’m glad i get to spend it with you.”

Matt Holt:

He makes this super cool heart shaped projector thing!

He hands you this heart

It rises shifts into being a projector that displays all of your favorite memories together

It shows the new inductee dance and how the two of you jumping around without a care in the world

Then it shows a lazy night of the both of you “studying” for an exam as the camera zooms into Matt’s face and your giggles from behind the camera

And one of your favorite memories of all, your day at the beach together. Throwing water at each other, making sand castles, resting you head in his shoulder as the sun goes down

“Matt…this is beautiful… I-I’m speechless…!”

“It’s alright.” He begins, “I know what you’re gonna say. I love you too.”

Taehoon Seong

Mans has no idea what to do

He acts like he doesn’t care as Hansu tries to give him ideas but really he’s terrified of messing something up

So when the day comes you hear a knock on the door you’re surprised to see a nicely dressed Taehoon with a rose in his hand

“Happy Valentine’s Day idiot.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Thank you Tae Tae!”

You Motion for him to come in

When he does there’s a nice breakfast for two in the dining room

“I know you don’t like to go out Tae, so I thought we could stay in for the day.”

Oh my gosh that sounds perfect

“Heh, I guess so. At least I’m with you.”

Damian Wayne:

Spoils you with acts of service

As soon as you wake up you’re greeted with the smell of a nice breakfast in the dining room

Then you sit in bed as he feeds you chocolate cover strawberries, watching silly movies and drawing pictures for each other

At the end of the day he prepares a bath for the both of you

You wash each other not like that weirdos and you even blow some bubbles at him

When it’s finally time to sleep he massages your back and whispers about how much he loves you

Then of course you fall asleep on his chest as he holds you

“Goodnight beloved. I hope you understand how much I love you.”

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lovelyfantasia · 1 month ago

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Exceeded My Expectations Pt. 2

WARNINGS: 18+, oral receiving for both, sex, hair pulling, just absolute smut

WORD COUNT: 3,300+

A/N: All I have to say is: I hope y'all enjoy this one. Happy reading :)

===

Los Angeles at night isn’t half bad. It’s not New York, you knew that for sure, but you make the most of what this city has to offer you.

You sure as hell are making the most of this date. Jeff is clearly feeling the same way since his hand is caressing your exposed thigh in the back of Laura’s car.

Top 40 music plays throughout the car on a low volume as Laura is asking how the lounge was while driving to Jeff’s place. No Ordinary Love by Sade sets the tone for the drive and you’re trying to focus on what Laura’s saying, but Jeff isn’t helping that.

“Well you know me, I ended up ordering Manhattans the whole night!”

“Jesus, Y/N, I don’t know you can drink straight liquor like that!”

“Oh stop, you know full well how I was when I was in college at UCLA. Damn near straight A’s while having my free will in my free time.” Laura laughs and pulls up to a red light. Jeff’s hand goes from your upper thigh to around your shoulders.

What a fucking tease.

“Jeffrey, you’re awfully quiet back there. A rare sighting for you to not be saying something, literally anything.”

“Laura, may I just say…I am a drunk man right now sitting next to a rolled down window. I’m feeling kind of like a dog at the moment and I don’t mind the feeling.” Laura and you burst out laughing over not only what he said, but the delivery of it.

You look up at Jeff and he already has his eyes set on you. A soft smile takes over his face, but you can see it in his eyes that he’s ready to rip your dress off of you.

“We’re here!” Jeff snaps out of the trance that is your eyes and thanks Laura for the ride and gets out. Right before you’re about to exit, she stops you. “Oh, you’re going to need these,” and Laura hands you a box of a pack of 12 Trojan magnum condoms.

“12?! Why the hell do you think I need that much?!” you whisper yell at her.

“Listen, I’d rather you have more than what you need. Plus, you know, possibly six of them tonight, six of them tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’m leaving. Goodnight and thank you!” you shut the door and follow Jeff to his front door.

He’s trying to get his key out to unlock the door in a hectic manner. The faster he gets you two inside, the faster he can have his lips on yours and keep them there for the night. Finally, Jeff inserts it, twists and now part two of the night is really about to begin.

“My goodness, your place is nice.”

You take off your heels, place them near the door, and explore into the living room. Large, plushy sage green couch with a red and beige persian rug covering his wood floors. His television is even quite large! It’s decorated really well for a bachelor pad, but he does seem like a man of style and his home reflects that. Photos of his family from throughout the years tell their stories on the walls, some of them featuring a very small and cute Jeff Goldblum.

Of course this man owns a piano. To your surprise there’s half written music sheets scattered on the top of it. You write stories, he writes his music. How cute.

“Welcome to my home. Make yourself comfortable, of course. Would you like any water?”

“Yes, please.”

Instead of sticking around in the living room you stroll into the kitchen. You lean against the door frame, observing the man before your eyes. He doesn’t even realize you’re near him, but he can feel someone’s stare on him.

You just can’t fathom the moment you’re in. You’ve seen any movies of his that were available in theaters near you throughout the years, including the not so good ones like Vibes. Even his “bad” movies you saw because at least he was in them and man oh man, did you watch him.

Him in Earth Girls Are Easy was basically a wet dream for you. If you think he was at the peak of handsomeness in that, you don’t know if you’re going to survive watching Jurassic Park when it comes out.

“Earth to Y/N,” Jeff waves a hand in your face to bring you back down to earth from the space you were floating around inside of your head. “Here’s your water.”

You blush tremendously and look away as you grab the cup. “Thank you.”

At that rate, you chug the water hoping it’ll sober you up fast. That pit of embarrassment and anxiety is making its way back to your stomach. All you want is to not fuck this up and you can’t help it to put immense pressure on yourself when you have something you really want in your possession.

And you really want Jeff.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” he asks when he comes up behind you. You feel his hands make their way to the sides of your arms and rub them. Relaxation cascades over you, but also another sensation that’s ready to explode in the next hour. He doesn’t help with that particular feeling when presses his lips on your shoulder.

He feels you loosen up within his touch and starts to pepper more kisses on your shoulder, then up your neck.

“I’m feeling just fine, thanks for asking.” he chuckles a bit and removes himself from you. If that's what it feels like to have him hover over you and to have his touch, you don’t know what kind of money you would spend to have that every single day.

You thought you were good to walk away until you felt him grab your arm. He spins you to make you face him and immediately pulls you in for a kiss.

This feeling, this explosion all the while melting, has become such a foreign feeling for you. No one has made you feel so intensely in such a long time. It was as if you could feel an addiction brewing to a feeling right then and there, the chemistry working its magic while he has his hand rests on the side of your face.

“I know I have the bedroom upstairs, but would it be terrible of me to put you on this island and taste you?”

“God, please do,” and with a quick motion, you were lifted up and placed gently on the kitchen island. The cold marble shocks your skin and makes you arch your back as you lay down on it.

His hands work fast as he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter, then pushes up your dress. He couldn’t take his hands off of your skin, consistently staying on your thighs as his lips make their kisses on the inner parts of them. You’re getting wetter by the fucking second and trying to hold back from telling him to just fuck you right there on the counter.

He was really edging you on with the kisses he started pressing to your core with your black lace panties still covering it. A moan finally escaped your lips when you felt him do one long good lick on it. You were ready to lose it.

“Jeff, for the love of God, please just take them off already.”

“What? The panties or all of it?” he pulls on your arm to sit you up and his lips crashes into yours. He was enjoying getting a feel for your body, but he was missing those lips dearly. Though, he can’t wait to have a taste of the other ones too.

The hell with some of his clothing, you thought to yourself. The glasses came off first, then your hands went to work on unbuttoning his black shirt with some of them already undone. Jeff tosses it off himself somewhere on the floor and goes straight to your neck. It was his turn to get to work and he did the first order of business to get your panties off.

They ended up near his shirt and you were ready to have your dress there too. Your thoughts vanished once you felt his fingers feeling on your wet slit. He teases you with small rubs on your clit and almost pushing one of his fingers inside you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N, you’re wet as hell,” Jeff said breathlessly in your neck.

“Don’t be shy, you can have a taste, baby.”

“Oh, but ladies first,” and he brings his soaked two fingers to your mouth for you to suck on. You did without any hesitation. “Good girl,” he said in almost a whisper.

Without any help from him, you untie your dress from your neck and let it fall, revealing your breasts. Jeff just stares at you, looking at your body up and down, admiring the beauty before him. His pupils are blown out, his hair’s a mess, and he looks like his patience is running thin.

You have him right where you want him.

“Fuck it,” and with one movement, you were back in his arms and your legs wrapped around his waist.

He swiftly brings you two up the stairs and to his room. Next thing you knew the light turned on and he dropped you on his king size bed. He worked fast, but you work faster as you’re already sitting up and unbuckling his belt for him. You whip off his black leather belt, your eye catching that it was Versace. For a quick second, you applauded him in your head for owning a good wardrobe.

The button comes undone, the zipper comes down, and you reveal what you’ve been waiting for ever since you got into Laura’s car at the lounge.

Now you were really applauding for him in your head.

You were trying to continue being sexy, but the alcohol was about to turn you into a comedian quickly. “Good God, how do you manage to keep that thing in your pants adequately?”

It was as if you two could hear a record scratch in the funniest way possible.

“Years of practice, baby.”

“I hope that has a double meaning.”

Now you’re back in full force when you wrapped your lips around his cock. Jeff leans his head back, eyes closed as you continue sucking him off. To escalate it, you run your hand on his shaft as your head bobs with the other hand feeling his balls.

"Fuck," is all he could say with moans following after.

As much as he’s enjoying this, he’s feeling rude about not doing what he said he was going to do to you on that marble counter.

“Sweetheart, hold on,” you stop instantly, looking up at him with worry in your eyes over if you did anything wrong. Or worse: if he wants to stop completely. The opposite happened where your dress was taken off by him, leaving you completely naked. “Lay back down and up against the pillows.”

You make yourself comfy and he watches you sink into his bed as he’s completely undressing himself. He makes sure to take all his rings off for what he’s about to do to you.

“If you don’t move any faster, I will end up falling asleep right here in this spot-”

“Alright. Jeez, impatience becomes you.”

“Well when you have your cock completely out and you’re butt naked, can you blame me for getting whiney about not having you on top of me?” Oh she’s good, Jeff thought to himself. For someone in her mid-20s he was surprised how well you were at flirting and overall, being confidently sexy. He doesn’t even see this kind of confidence in women his own age.

Jeff knew George was right: you were a rarity.

The most gorgeous man to you is crawling towards your naked body on the bed, hands making their way to your thighs once again. You feel your body heat up all over again with every touch from him feeling like you’re on fire. Considering you’ve never had such an intense sexual interaction under the influence, it’s your body embracing everything for once instead of your mind. It’s one fire that you never want to burn out.

Jeff leaves a trail of kisses on your inner right thigh, leaving a mark here and there. His hunger is growing as he inches closer to you. His mouth encapsulates you, his tongue getting to work. Like it was muscle memory, your fingers run through his wild curls and grip them from time to time.

It’s all you’re focused on right now. The house could be on fire, but the only thing hypnotizing you is having Jeff’s mouth on your pussy and his arms wrapped around your thighs. He starts to really go at it on your clit and the moans start to spill louder from you. His expertise in such skills are being exposed to you.

“Yes, right there,” you say as you grip his hair harder. He loves it. The more you grab at it the more reassurance he has that he’s doing a good job at satisfying you. That’s all he cares about right now.

Abruptly, he stops.

“What- why did you-” but he quickly cuts you off by putting his wet lips on yours. The kiss is messy, passionate, and everything you wanted it to be. He makes sure you taste yourself by slipping his tongue in and you ramp it up by wrapping your arms around his neck.

As much as you two were ready to fuck, this spontaneous make-out session felt much needed. Him on top of you, his hands brushing away the hair from your face, soft kisses continue to be shared, your hands holding his face. It was bliss.

In between the hungry kisses, he trails his mouth down to your breast and gives them their needed attention. The way he kisses and licks them sends you over the edge.

“Get the condom,” you whisper in between kisses. No hesitation for Jeff to reach into his nightstand drawer to retrieve one. You know you had the box Laura gave you downstairs, but there was no stopping the flow you two created. The universe was looking out for you when he pulled out the square gold foil that read “Trojan Magnum” on the front.

As he proceeds to try to get it on himself while on his knees, your neediness for him shows through with the kisses you start leaving across his abdomen and hips. Light touches on his thighs have him shaking just a bit when rolling the condom on his shaft.

“Is the grown man nervous? What’s with the shaky hands?”

“Keep talking like that and I can show you a good way to get rid of that attitude.” you were ready to pin him down on the bed and fuck him. Having a man talk to you in such a way was a turn off, but in this instance you knew you were fishing for him to have quite the reaction. He gave you exactly what you wanted.

“Prove it, baby,” another kiss to his hip. That one left a good mark that no one will see but him for the next few days.

He pushes you back into the pillows, his hands holding your wrists at the sides of your head and kisses you hard. His hand leaves your right wrist to position himself to go into you. Your heart rate starts to steadily rise once again with the events that are about to roll out.

Jeff slowly pushes himself in and your eyes flutter shut and your jaw slacks open. The few guys you’ve had sex with within your time of experiencing sex had nothing on Jeff. Seeing his cock was one thing, but feeling it? It sent you to another realm.

His pace starts to quicken and for him to stay deep inside you, you wrap your legs slightly around him. A groan from him escapes and it was sweet music to your ears.

“Fuck yes, baby,” he moans in your ear, then starts kissing your neck and shoulders lazily.

“H-harder please,” and Jeff slips out of you, places you on your hands and knees, and gets behind you.

“As you wish, princess,” and he does as he’s told. Your moans grow louder, more roughness in your throat as he shows no mercy to you. You can feel your hands starting to hurt from gripping onto his pillows for dear life.

“Oh my God, yes Jeff, just like that!”

You can feel his hand make its way to your hair and you signal to him that he’s allowed to get rough with you. With a fistful of your hair in his hand, he pulls you back towards him while keeping a steady pace. He’s sweating to no end, but he could care less. All that matters to him right now is what’s in front of him.

“Say my name again, baby,” he breathlessly says in your ear.

“Jeff! Ah- fuck!” you scream.

“That’s it, Y/N. Call me whatever the fuck you want- shit!” He’s relentless to your pussy and you’re astonished at how long he’s last at how fast he’s going.

He releases you and you spring back down to the pillows, offering you a soft landing for your head. Your ass and hips are up with your head lying comfortably on the what you believe are feathered pillows. Just when you thought he was done, you feel the sting of his hand smacking your ass.

This man was going to be the death of you.

“Baby, I’m gonna-” you couldn’t even finish what you were going to say from your orgasm hitting you with a fury. The room gets filled with your loud moans, crying out his name like it was the prayer that was going to save your life.

Shortly after yours ripping through your body, Jeff squeezed your hips hard as he felt his bubbling within him.

“Fuck- Y/N-” a low groan rolls off his lips and his fingers tighten their position on you. He comes and you can feel his cock pulsating inside you. The whole scene leaves you with a victorious smirk on your face.

He slowly pulls out and that feeling of emptiness comes to you. You collapse into the bed, absolutely spent after Jeff treated you like his personal fuck toy. To you, it was the best way to have sex. Kissy, soft missionary did nothing for you most of the time, but only could work with the right person. Jeff made that small, short list.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks after coming back from his bathroom with a small towel.

“Oh I am feeling just fine, Mr. Goldblum,” he chuckles as he spreads your legs to gently clean you up. Your heart flutters from the aftercare, something you’ve never experienced before from anyone you’ve slept with. With finishing up, he continues to rub the back of your thigh and kisses you softly on your back. “How about you?”

“I haven’t been this satisfied in a long time. In more ways than what just occurred."

You turn around and prop yourself up on your elbows. That mouth of yours wants to say something clever, but your heart wants to do something else. Slowly, you lean up to him and he gets the message and leans in to kiss you.

This wasn’t like the first kiss of the night. That was eagerness and wanting each other to the highest degree. But this was something entirely different.

This felt like a first kiss.

“I can’t keep going because I could keep doing this the whole night,” you say to him as your thumb strokes his cheek.

“What’s stopping us?” Jeff leans back in to continue the kissing and lays you back down into the bed. Without detaching, he manages to get you two under the covers and lay on your sides.

You pull away once again, but this time you just stare at him.

“What?” He asks in a whisper.

“Honestly…I’m not sure. I’m still trying to wrap all this around my head.”

“Me too. Instead of trying to fathom our impeccable impulsiveness, how about you get comfy,” and opens up his arms for you to make your way into. Jeff leans over to turn off the lamp and you settle down with your head on his chest.

“So…second date?” you say sleepily with your hand rubbing his chest, feeling the hair beneath your fingertips.

“Most certainly,” and Jeff kisses your forehead goodnight.

#jeff goldblum x reader #jeff goldblum #jeff goldblum imagine #jeff goldblum fanfic #jeff goldblum smut #jeff goldblum x you #fanfic #imagine #tension #pining

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jackwolfes · 2 months ago

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@febuwhump day 9 (alt): on the run Wylan Gen | Six of Crows | TW: DubCon febuwhump masterlist

The first time Wylan does it, he is simply too cold not to.

He can barely feel his fingers hunched in the corner of a dingey dive bar. This feels safer — just — than the low canal bridge he'd camped beneath last night. Wylan doesn't have any real idea where he is. All he knows is that he's cold, his throat hurts, and waterlogged clothes take a very long time to dry.

Without anything else to do, and an awful lot of time to pass, Wylan watches the crowd.

The Barrel is a motley affair, crammed with people of all sorts. This far from the larger canals there aren’t a lot of tourists. Bedraggled locals linger by the bar, beaten down by the weather or their own weariness. The younger student aged crowd — dressed in like particularly flamboyant parrots — is an energetic wave surging to and fro around the tables in a dance Wylan cannot keep up with.

Everyone in this place is drunk; the only difference is the speed at which they get through their liquor and move onto the next glass.

Wylan wonders what he looks like to these people, if they can see the fresh faced mercher’s brat beneath the grime of an unwashed and exhausted runaway. The uncanny feeling that they don’t care one way or another sits leaden in his stomach, but no one is really looking at him.

Almost no one, he corrects.

The man that comes up and offers to buy him a drink has been watching him since he came through the door.

He whispers this to Wylan as he sips at his new drink, his arm propped up on the high-top table behind Wylan’s back. Drunken warmth exudes from his loose-limbed frame. A little dish of peanuts sits on the table beside his hand, and Wylan has to try not to eat them too quickly when they’re offered.

If the man notices Wylan’s starving, he doesn’t comment on it. He must be able to tell with the way he leans so close. His lips brush against the shell of Wylan’s ear and send a shiver down his spine that is not steadied by the hand now settling in the dip of his lower back. Each time he breathes he brings the smell of cheap beer and tobacco deep into his lungs, reminding him of the delivery boys his father used to tell him not to associate with when they brought wares to the house.

Wylan watched them at the kitchen door from the window of his bedroom, peering down curiously in the early hours. Sometimes, when he secreted himself away from the world in the bustling basement corridors, they’d brush past his hiding place and make him wonder.

There’s no need to wonder about any of this, though. The hand on his back slides down to the curve of his backside, tucking first into his back pocket before seeming to decide it does not want to wait with pretense. A finger slips beneath the waistband of his trousers, skin cracked with the winter cold.

The man sounds giddy when he says, “Come home with me and spend the night.”

Not happy, not kind. Excited and greedy, like a mercher’s son.

Wylan doesn't know who he sounds like when he says, “Okay.”

But he does say okay, and he even says yes, which is what matters, and goes as far as gathering his meagre things and allowing this man to guide him out into the night. The rain has stopped, but the chill is omnipresent. In Wylan's chest, his heart begins to dance a staccato beat.

The room he's brought to is cold, but dry, and soon enough he's thrown against the bed and kissed ravenously down into the mattress. Hands glide up his torso, pushing his shirt with them and dragging it up over his head. He's laid bare, but another man’s body replaces his clothes to press down against his skin.

And it isn't bad, what comes. It only hurts a little bit, and not for that long. Wylan finishes, too.

It's just not how he imagined his first time to go.

He didn’t think about it often, but he’d hoped for some degree of romance to the affair. Tender kissing, fewer teeth, more patience. A chance to smile. Breathless excitement rather than exhausted resignation, less embarrassment when the rougher thrusts drew out a moan. Fewer mocking laughs at the muffled, squeaky noises he made when he came.

He didn’t expect to feel so dirty.

After, staring at the ceiling with stars in his eyes and sticky release cooling on his lower stomach, Wylan’s skin crawls. He counts back the days to the last time he bathed and wonders when he’ll be somewhere that gives him the option. His imaginary future, the one he was never going to have, plays out like a picture reel in front of his bleary eyes as he wonders about what could have been.

But it's so hard to mourn his virtue when he has a mattress beneath him and a blanket again, scratchy but warm. Sleep slips beneath the crease of Wylan's heavy eyelids as he settles down and falls asleep beside a stranger.

He wakes at dawn. There is no gentle rousing; he is unconscious one moment and then wide awake, blinking in the pale light. He sniffles, mouth dry with dust that he’s breathed too much of.

Shifting beneath the threadbare sheets makes him wince, soreness radiating out from his lower back and spreading. The past however many hours trickle back into his mind. Twelve? That feels generous. Wylan cannot be sure how long he slept, but it doesn’t feel like long enough.

He exhales slowly, readying himself for the grief of leaving this bed. The one thing he’s certain of is that he cannot stay. There are little things, little solaces, and although two nights under dank stone bridges cannot be easily forgotten, the past few hours have hopefully gone some distance in putting it behind him.

Wylan shuts his eyes one last time, relishing in the darkness and trying to convince himself that this is the first and last time he’ll fuck someone he does not want to for a passably comfortable bed.

He’s never been a very convincing liar, though.

Without looking at the man he’s left in the bed behind him, Wylan tugs on his clothes, collects his meagre possessions, and slips out silently into the unkind morning.

#this one's sad but also maybe worth incorporating into something bigger because i quite like it #wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #soc #six of crows #soc fanfic #febuwhump #dgb does febuwhump 2025

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eternalfae · 1 year ago

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When You're Gone (pt 2/??)

When you finally got back to your flat your heart was pounding. You practically ran inside, part of you still not believing he would really be there. You tried to not show your excitement as you opened the door, still in your uniform from work. You heard the TV on and Andrew was humming along with the opening theme song of some show. You could already see him laid out across your couch, so perfectly relaxed as if nothing had happened. You stepped in and closed the door behind you a little too hard, startling him.

“Well, don’t you look excited to see me?” He had to crane his neck to see you, a small smile resting on his face.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes while you tossed your bag on the table near the front door. A catch-all table littered with anything someone could ever need. “A strange man broke into my home while I was at work, why wouldn’t I be delighted?”

He cocked a brow at that, face going serious. “That sounds like a big deal. You know who did it?”

You sat next to him on the small couch. “The cops are already on their way.” A moment of silence passed between both of you before you crossed your arms and turned to face him. “Why are you here, Andrew?”

“I finished, obviously.” He looked a little proud of himself, like a cat bringing you a mouse.

You couldn’t help your attitude. While you were happy to see him, you were mad that he’d leave you alone long enough to miss him. “When?”

He frowned. “About three days ago. Quite frankly, I thought you’d be more happy to see me.” You felt trapped by the almost sad look in his eyes. You took him in for a moment, beard unkempt, hair a bit longer than what it was when he left. He definitely needed a trim… and a shower. He smelled strongly of cologne, probably to cover up the smell of the long train ride back home. You loved his cologne.

“I’m very happy to see you. I just wish you would have told me you were coming back. I could have planned something!” You threw your hands up dramatically for effect.

“We can still do something fun; go out to the pub,” he offered. You shook your head in response and he frowned again.

“I don’t want to go to the pub immediately after getting home from work. Order some delivery while I shower and we can watch a movie or something. I want to relax.” His smile returned and he nodded, quickly taking his phone out to order from his favorite local place. Fifteen minutes later you were dressed in your comfiest pajamas, towel-drying your hair quickly before you made your way back out to the living room. “Do you want anything to drink? I pretty much have the entire pub in my kitchen.” You leaned over the back of the couch, resting your arms on it as you watched him.

He looked up from his phone and nodded. “Please,” he answered simply, “But surprise me.”

You nodded and wandered back towards the kitchen, slightly distracted by the ad currently playing on your TV. You managed to peel your eyes away as you stepped into the kitchen. You contemplated your liquor cabinet for a moment before you pulled down a bottle of Midleton whiskey, something you always saved for special occasions. Warm light shone through the glass, and you filled it up with maybe a bit more than you should’ve, but you didn’t care. After dropping some ice in, you brought the drinks back to the living room. He took the offered glass silently and you sat next to him, relaxing into the plush cushions.

You sipped your drink and let your brain go empty, desperately trying to just forget about everything and relax here with your best friend. You couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the warmth radiating off of the man next to you, a direct opposite of the chill your damp hair was sending down your spine. He wordlessly took the remote and switched it from the show to one of his favorite movies, Grand Budapest Hotel. You took a swig of your drink, craving the warmth that was teasing you from your right, and grabbed a blanket that sat on your couch to bundle up in.

The alcohol seemed to do barely anything to warm the chill in your bones. You were utterly exhausted from work, though, and the alcohol wasn’t helping. You felt yourself dozing off within the first ten minutes of the movie. You were rudely awoken, however, by the sound of the doorbell. Oh, yeah, your food. You mumbled to yourself as you went to get up, but a hand on your leg stopped you. A warmth spread immediately from that spot that rivaled that of the alcohol in your veins.

“I’ve got it.” Andrew stood up and waved at you dismissively to stay sitting as he walked toward the door, stealing your warmth. You craned your neck a bit to watch him, but couldn’t hear their voices over the movie on the TV. You ended up relaxing and stretching out on the couch while you waited for him to return. Not long after, you smelled your food approaching. You hummed happily and sat up once again. “Your favorite.” He set the box down in front of you and opened it up, the smell causing you to practically drool.

“You’re a saint. Thank you,” you smiled up at him and he simply nodded and returned to his spot on the couch. He scooted closer to you as he reached for a slice and you were painfully aware of his knee touching yours. You willed yourself to ignore the thoughts racing through your head as you grabbed a piece for yourself. Your thoughts finally faded to the back of your mind as you ate, more or less watching the TV.

Once you had your fair share of food and liquor you could feel the exhaustion of your workday catching up with you. You pulled your legs up onto the couch and got cozy while the two of you sat in a comfortable silence watching the TV. You started to doze off again and was vaguely aware of the man next to you getting up from the couch.

Right when you were about to open your eyes to see where he went, though, the couch sunk again and a blanket was placed over you both. One of his arms went around the back of the couch and, totally only because the couch was making you go that way, you found yourself leaning against the tall man with your head on his shoulder. As sleep took over your body now that you were adequately warm, you felt his arm come off the couch and move to around you. With one hand resting on your shoulder, you barely even heard his words.

“I missed you so much.”

#hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #hozier fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #i was so tired writing this #no beta we die like men

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notsocheezy · 1 month ago

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Brain Curd #363

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

The following material is classified - unless you've read the rest of Government Man here on Tumblr!

Government Man sat in his office, twiddling - his thumbs, mostly. Since he located the missile launch codes in his wallet months ago (they were disguised as a receipt for a chicken sandwich), Boss Man had neglected to assign any duties. In fact, he’d rarely left his office at all.

On the rare occasion Government Man caught a glimpse of Boss Man, he was cryptidoid in nature - fleeting, blurry, and covered in significantly more hair than he should have been according to the CIA dress code.

And at every attempt to reach out, GM (that’s Government Man’s nickname) was turned away at the door. The same went for Government Woman - though she didn’t seem especially interested. Only Government Boy was allowed in or out of the dark, dank, bodily odorous office in which Boss Man kept the blinds tightly shut. He was Boss Man’s confidante, if ‘confidante’ was French for ‘liquor delivery boy’.

Government Boy’s gunshot wound was all healed up, now, and he had full use of his arms. He was growing up so fast - he even had a little hair growing from his chin that he refused to shave off - again, despite the dress code. And despite the fact that Government Man had tried to teach him how to use a razor.

Government Woman was hard for Government Man to understand. She kept asking him for odd favors, like handing her a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling or lifting up his shirt so she could ‘check him out’. But she never found anything in all the times she’d looked, and seemed to be getting more and more frustrated about it. Perhaps, GM thought, this might have had something to do with her kissing him on the helicopter as they escaped the middle east. But probably not.

Government Man liked to spend his days thinking about all this, since there really wasn’t anything else to do. But suddenly, halfway through his morning ponderance, his chair began shaking. At first, he thought it was an earthquake, but then he recalled that he set his office to vibrate. He flipped a switch under his desk and a message came across the intercom.

“All agents,” Boss Man said. “Report to my office immediately. Government Woman, Government Boy…”

Government Man leaned forward in anticipation.

“… And the rest. I have an urgent assignment.”

That was good enough for him. He put on his coat and ran to Boss Man’s office.

Government Woman and Government Boy were already there, waiting in a single file line. Government Man lined up behind them.

“Hey,” he whispered to Government Boy. “Where is Boss Man?”

“I am not sure,” Government Boy replied. “But if he does not show up in fifteen minutes, we get to go home.”

Government Woman crossed her arms. “That’s a myth.”

There was a sound of running water and then Boss Man exited the restroom. He looked at the lineup, sighed, and fiddled around with his keys before opening the office door. He turned on the light and ushered the three agents inside.

Government Boy bounced in. “Is today the day we get to meet Government Girl, Boss Man?”

Boss Man rolled his eyes. “No.” He sat down behind his desk and cleared glass bottles from the top, then cleared his throat. “I have received a message from the top brass. He’s requested to meet with you.”

“Who?” Government Man asked.

“None other than the single highest ranking individual in the entire world: President Man.”

“President Man?” Government Woman squinted at him. “Don’t you mean -”

“He is known only as President Man.” Boss Man insisted. “And he has requested you in the Ovaller Office.” He passed a doodled-on napkin across the desk toward Government Boy. “These are the directions there.”

Government Boy picked it up and studied it. “Okay.” He walked away. After a beat, GM and GW followed.

The trio arrived at the Ovaller Office a mere twenty minutes later after taking the bus. It was indeed exceptionally ovally. President Man sat with his chair dramatically pointed away from the entrance, then even more dramatically turned to reveal himself. He bore no resemblance to any real person, living or otherwise, and was clearly an entirely original character.

“You would not believe what has happened to me.” President Man gesticulated. “It was the crime of the century, no, millennium. Crime of the millennium. Of all time.”

Government Man stepped forward. “What’s happened, sir?”

“Somebody - I don’t know who, could be anyone, really - somebody has stolen my shoelaces. Right from under my nose. How did they do it? Who are they? Impossible to tell. You’ll never find out.”

Government Woman squinted at him. “What exactly do you need us to do, sir?”

“Find out. I wanna know who stole my shoelaces and I want them back ASAP. My shoes keep falling off - do you believe this? The things I have to put up with to run this country. I could have spent my retirement golfing, just golfing with my friends, my celebrity friends.”

Government Man saluted. “Understood.”

“I was friends with O.J. O.J., can you believe it? ‘The juice is loose’. He’d always say that. But I beat him every time. Hole in one. Hole in two. Sometimes hole in three. Always a better amount of holes than he could do, I can tell you that.”

Government Boy nodded. “Okay. We will go do that now.”

“He used to say to me, ‘President Man, how are you so fantastic at golf? If I was a murderer, I would threaten you with this knife I keep in my bag.’ So I said -” President Man continued talking as the three shut the door behind them, probably just because he enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

“Wow,” Government Boy quipped. “He is weird.”

“I like him.” Government Man smiled. Then he saw the look on Government Woman’s face.

“That is a major turn-off,” she gagged. “Please stop liking him. Anyway, I need to use the restroom. I will see you both later back at headquarters.”

“Okay.” Government Boy walked off.

“Uh…” Government Man wanted to think of something to say, but realized he had forgotten the way back, so rushed to catch up with Government Boy.

Government Woman walked into the empty ladies’ room and pulled out a flip phone. She dialed the number she’d long since memorized.

“It has happened,” she said cryptically.

On the other end, Alpha (that is, the original Government Man, who… you know what, just read the first 21 episodes if you’re confused) replied: “Affirmative.”

He flipped the phone shut and leaned back in his recliner. The wheels were in motion.

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

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