#no one ever let me write a single fic this long ever again

[fandomgirlz01]

The Most Perfect Christmas Ever

JJ Maybank X Routledge Reader

Imagine on fandom instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: Yes: (1) "Cute Christmas socks." (2) "Are you going to stay out there in the cold all night?" (3) "Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up." (4) "Is that my scarf?" (5) "Be careful you’re clumsy and it’s really slippery out here." (6) "Ah. The ground is so slippy.!” (7) "Call me elf one more time!" (8) "Chaos has come again." (9) "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone." (10) "Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up." (11) "Everything I want I can’t have." (12) "Here. Let me pick you up so you can reach the top of the Christmas tree." (13) "How long ago did (Character) fall asleep?" (14) "I believe the Abominable Snowman may be real. I think there may be something in that." (15) "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

Style of Writing: Single Fic 

Rating: PG ~ For all the fluff and cuteness, but a few adult comments…

Edited: Not edited so it may change around later guys. 

Word count: 6,717 

Post Date & Time: December 25th 2024 at 1:45 AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here 

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}.

Summary: You, your brother John B and JJ (Jackson Jessy "Maybank" Groff) spend another Christmas together, your first Christmas without your father after he’d gone missing. This Christmas however is different than all the others that the three of you have spent together. 

Authors Note: I got these amazing prompts from a fellow writers page @bonniebird Bonnie is an inspiration to me as well as an amazing writer and artist. I did change some of them up so they fit the story better, but I did try to keep them pretty close to the original prompts. Anyway, Bonnie’s work never fails to make me smile and feel all the feelings that I should when reading. I WISH I could write as amazingly as she does, but I’m nowhere near her level yet, I hope and pray that one day I will be. Ladies and gentlemen please go give her love and support because she really deserves it. She’s one of my many inspirations and I’m so so happy to use her prompts because they really pushed me to write this fic even though I was blocked for all of my other works. I feel like it helped me break out of it, so THANK YOU Bonnie for everything 🩵🩵🩵

Also this is our first JJ Maybank fic. We have so much coming out for JJ he will eventually be added into our main people we write for so be on the look out for when we add that in. We both hope you guys enjoy this one. 🩵

You hum softly to yourself along with the Christmas music you have playing as you lay out the decorations. Every Christmas, you, John B, your dad, and JJ would enjoy Christmas together. When you were growing up and found out what JJ’s dad did to him (you didn’t tell them of course, because that’s JJ’s place to tell people about it), you begged for JJ to start spending the holidays with you. Ever since that very first time they agreed, he’s always come over. It’s always been your absolute favorite time of year. How could it not be? When you have JJ and John B around you, your two favorite people? This year is different though, because it’s the first Christmas without your father since he had disappeared only a few months ago now. 

“Hey. Wow. You’ve really got everything ready,” John B comments in shock as he looks at everything you’ve laid out so far. 

“It’s Christmas, JB, of course I’ve got everything ready. Don’t I always?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him and shrugging. 

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve and we’re only now decorating…” you shake your head and he chuckles. 

“I know normally you have it all started the last week of November,” he comments, amusement clear in his tone. 

“I know right! I’m so behind. This year has been a lot… it’s been one stressful year…” you mutter out with a roll of your eyes and he again hums in amusement as you bite your lip. 

“Hey. I get it. It definitely has been wild,” John B agrees and you sigh. 

“It’s just… it’s the first one without dad. We should still celebrate, be happy to still all be together right?” You ask, unsure of your own words. 

“Of course, bug. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it,” he tells you as he stops you for a moment to pull you into a hug. 

“Plus, I’ll have my two favorite guys with me. I’m happy and I refuse to not be happy during my favorite time of year,” you push away from the hug as you ramble while continuing to lay stuff out, not bothering to spare a look at your brother. 

“Hey. I get it. I do. No need to preach it to me, bug,” he reverently tells you, giving you a small shrug. 

You continue to lay ornaments and many other decorations out on the table. You step back to look at your handiwork, proud of how it looks. You get pulled out of your thoughts when your brother laughs, making you look at him instead. 

“What?” You ask him, eyebrow propped and he points down at your feet. 

"Cute Christmas socks," he tells you though chuckles and you look down at them, pushing up onto your toes. 

“Oh, really? Good, I got both you and JJ a pair of your own,” you inform him with a giant grin and his face falls. 

“There’s no way JJ will be wearing those…” he tells you and you giggle. 

“Who says! They’re cute!” You cry out and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Sorry to tell ya, bee, JJ doesn’t do cute,” he tells you with humor lacing his tone. 

“Fine. You’ll wear them though, right?” You ask, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“Not a chance. Puppy eyes don’t work on me anymore, bee,” he tells you and you smirk even though he’s not looking at you. 

“Really? Then why won’t you look at me, huh?” You teasingly ask and he huffs. 

“No reason. No reason at all. Speaking of your two favorite people, where's the other?” John B asks with a hint of humor, changing the subject as he picks up an ornament to look at before carefully setting it back down. 

“Actually, he was supposed to be here about thirty minutes ago…” you comment as you finally look up at the clock. 

“Don’t worry, bug. It’s JJ, I’m sure he’s just running late,” John B tries to comfort you, but you shake your head, rushing over to start putting your jacket on. 

“Exactly. It’s JJ. He’s never late this time of year. He loves having Christmas with us,” you comment as you shove your feet into your shoes. 

“Bug? What are you doing?” John B rushes over to you and you shrug as you stand while zipping up your jacket. 

“I’m going to look for him. What if he needs us?” You counter as you wrap a scarf around your neck and John B sighs. 

“I’m coming with you then,” he informs you as he grabs his own jacket. 

You give him a look of exasperation before shaking your head once more. You pull the door open before starting down the porch, but John B pulls you to a stop. You go to yell at him, but he raises his hands in surrender before pointing over at something and you turn to look where he's pointing. You see JJ sitting curled up on the dock and you sigh in relief. 

“You go talk to him. I’ll finish setting up, okay?” John B offers and you smile softly at him. 

“Don’t you wanna go over?” You ask, popping an eyebrow at him and he pauses with lips pursed in thought. 

“No. It looks more like a you and him moment,” John B answers with a small soft smile. 

“Okay. If you’re sure, birdy,” you tell him, giving a side eye to see if he changes his mind. 

When he doesn’t show any signs of changing his mind, you firmly nod at him before starting to walk over to JJ as John B heads back inside. It’s a cold night so you bring your cupped hands up to your mouth and breathe into them, hoping to warm yourself up a little. Once your hands have warmed up, you move them under your armpits, trying to keep them that way as you move closer and closer to JJ. 

“Jayj…” you call out softly and you can see your breath in the air. 

“Hi, cupcake…” he mutters, not looking at you which makes you frown. 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” You ask as you sit next to him, your feet dangling over the side of the dock. 

“JJ, talk to me…” you mutter out when he doesn’t answer and you move to cuddle into his side, but he uses his shoulder to shove you off, still keeping his face out of view. 

“JJ. Seriously, what is wrong?” You ask as you grab his shoulder, trying to pull him to look at you even though you have an opinion on what’s going on. 

“Just leave me alone cupcake. Please?” He practically begs, still turned away from you and you frown even harder. 

“Jayj, please…” you whisper out to him once again and he sighs, finally turning to you not liking the hurt sound of your voice. 

“Oh, JJ…” you gasp when you see his face full of black and blue bruises, you had a thought that’s it be about his dad, but you had no clue it’d be this bad. 

“See, that’s why…” he mutters, looking away from you once more. 

“I don’t want you pitying me again… you do it far too often,” he mutters after you haven’t said anything.

“I don’t pity you, JJ. If anything I think it makes you incredibly strong…” you tell him with a firmness to your tone and he feels himself getting choked up. 

“Yeah… whatever…” he responds, not believing you as he shoves you off again. 

“I’m really sorry, JJ…” you mutter softly, not knowing what else to say to get him to believe you. You frown with a shake of your head as tears well up in your eyes.  

“What do you have to be sorry for? You didn’t do this…” JJ asks as he still refuses to look at you and you reach out for him again. 

“I’m sorry you have to go through this. I’m sorry you got dealt such a bad hand in life. I wish… I wish I could force Luke to see you. To actually see you,” you explain as you're finally able to pull him to look at you. He wishes he could wipe your frown off but only smiles softly at you. 

“It’s not so bad. I’ve got you and John B. It could be worse I guess,” he tells you with a shrug as he looks away again and out to the water. 

“I mean, you are right. Having us is pretty awesome,” you agree playfully, bouncing your eyebrows and he chuckles to himself, shaking his head. You smile, seeing his tough exterior finally starting to break down.

“It really is,” he softly agrees as he still looks out over the water and you hold back a sigh. 

“Well, are you going to stay out here in the cold all night and stew in what happened? Or are you going to come in and have fun with your favorite person?” You goad him while nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Oh, John B’s my favorite person now, huh?” he playfully asks, his own lips forming a bit bigger of a smirk now and you gasp. 

“Umm, no. I was actually talking about myself,” you respond with a deadpan look that makes him smile even more as he laughs, shaking his head. 

“What makes you think you’re my favorite person?” he asks you, all smiles now and you can’t help but smile alongside him. 

“It made you smile, didn’t it?” You answer him with a shrug and he’s shaking his head in disbelief again. 

“Yeah… yeah. It did,” he chuckles, continuing to smile softly at you.

"Well come on, then, let's get inside. We have a tree to decorate still and many other Christmas festivities,” you tell him with a beaming smile as you go to get up, but he reaches out and stops you. 

“Can we maybe just stay here for a moment more?” he mutters out and you blink at him for a moment.

“Yeah, of course, Jayj…” you softly tell him and he smiles a small smile at you. 

The two of you sit in silence for a little while before JJ, who's not wearing a coat, starts to shake a little bit."Come here. I bet you can fit in my coat with me and it’ll warm you up," You tell him as you hold your coat open to him. 

“Thanks, cupcake,” he mutters as he slides in under your arm and you smile warmly at him. 

“Of course, Jayj. It’s us against the world,” you whisper to him as you bring your pinky up and he smiles again before bringing his up as well, wrapping it around yours. 

“Us against the world, cupcake,” he agrees and you sigh, laying your head against his that now lays on your shoulder. 

“Hey, is this my scarf?” he asks after a while of silence as he lifts one of the sides of the scarf up. 

“Umm. Yeah, I think it’s the one you left here last year. I found it in my winter clothes. You can have it back if you want,” you answer with your cheeks burning hot and you try to hide your face. 

“Nah. Keep it. It’s a better fit on you than me,” he tells you softly and again you can’t help but blush. 

He says nothing else after that, just cuddles back into your shoulder and you squeeze his shoulder. The two of you stay sitting there, cuddling while looking out over the water in silence and just enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Hey, tweedledee and tweedledum, are you two going to stay out there all night and make me decorate alone? Or are you going to come be of some help?”John B calls out for the two of you from the edge of the dock and you both roll your eyes. 

“Well, you ready to go in?” You ask him and he smiles at you before nodding. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agrees before pulling away and the two of you start to stand. 

"Be careful cupcake, you’re clumsy and it’s really slippery out here,” JJ tells you as he stands up and you cross your arms. 

“I’m not that clumsy!” You fight back and he hums in amusement. 

“Okay. I’ll believe that when you're not tripping over thin air,” he jokes back with a smirk and you scowl at him. 

“Whatever…” you tell him as you roll your eyes before turning and taking a step to head back to the house. 

You let out a small gasp as you start to fall back, but JJ, knowing you well, was already reacting and quickly pulling you back up. You stare at him in shock for a moment before you slowly start to smile, making him smile too. 

"You were right. The ground really is so slippery,” You joke, eyes wide in shock and he playfully rolls his eyes at you. 

“Never change, cupcake. You’re truly one of a kind,” JJ tells you with a grin that’s utterly infectious. 

“Only if you promise never to change yourself, Jayj. You’re one of a kind too,” you request and he nods in agreement. 

You both stare at one another for a moment, your eyes staring into the blue pools that are his eyes that you’ve come to love so much over the years and you have a burning need to kiss him. You can feel his heart going what seems to be a mile a minute as he watches your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his eyes, his eyes doing the same. He squeezes your waist gently with a million thoughts of how your lips might taste flying though his mind and he wishes he could just kiss the adorable frown off your face, but he knows he can’t, making him frown too. You frown even deeper before opening your mouth to ask him why he’s frowning, but before you get the chance, you get cut off. 

“Hey! Would you two stop making eyes at each other and come help me decorate!” John B calls out again, interrupting the moment and you almost groan. 

“Thanks for catching me, Jayj,” you whisper out and something flashes through his eyes for a moment, an emotion you can’t quite decipher before he grins again letting you go. 

“I’ll always catch you, cupcake,” he promises with a light smile before the two of you start to walk over to John B. 

You slip a little bit once more, but you reach out and grab onto JJ’s arm. He looks down at you and chuckles as you cling to him like a koala bear, making him chuckle. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you to the end of the dock safely,” he promises with a laugh as he laces his fingers through yours and continues to walk over to John B. 

"Chaos has come again, man!” JJ announces as you and he walk into the château before he’s letting go of you to walk over to John B. 

“Don’t think that’s a good thing man,” John B deadpans and you fight to hold back a giggle as JJ pulls back from the guy hug the share looking offended. 

“Fine then, I take it back. You’re definitely not my favorite person. It’s cupcake,” JJ says as he pulls you into him from behind. 

“Oh so now I’m your favorite,” you ask, crossing your arms and giving a faux annoyed look. 

“Let’s be completely honest bee, I think you always have been even when he lies outta his butt and says you aren't,” John B comments with a roll of his eyes as he picks up an ornament and hangs it on the tree. 

“It’s disgusting sometimes really,” John B continues with a fake gag as he hangs the ornament up on the tree. 

“Ohh. I wanna do the Angel!” You happily call out clapping your hands and John B chuckles. 

“Don’t you always do it? This year’s no different, Bee. It’s your one job,” John B comments in amusement making you pout. 

“It’s not my only job! I have others,” you fight back and JJ chuckles, slinging his arm around your shoulder. 

“Yeah, JB her other jobs lookin pretty,” JJ comments as he hugs you into his side and you fight a blush as you groan pushing him away. 

“I extremely dislike both of you,” you comment, crossing your arms with a look of dismay falling on your face and they both grin. 

“That’s not true. You LOVE us,” both of them singsong to you and you uncross your arms shaking your head. 

“Okay maybe I do, but let’s get this show on the road,” you finally cave and agree with them before walking over to start decorating the tree some more. 

“Okay miss head elf,” JJ jokes with a roll of his eyes and John B laughs. 

“Oh that’s a good one Jayj. She really is a snappy head elf this time of year isn’t she?” John B agrees before pushing the joke a little further and you pause crossing your arms. 

"Call me elf one more time!" You seeth out through clenched teeth and they share a look. 

“Awe come on elffie. It’s a cute Christmas nickname that’s all. Plus you're the perfect height for it,” JJ tells you again, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he squeezes you affectionately and you huff, shaking your head. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get decorating already…” you tell them in annoyance and JJ snickers along with John B. 

Together you, JJ and John B all dance around and decorate making you completely forget about everything that’s been going on the past few months. For a moment it’s just you and your two favorite people living happily with nothing and nobody to take it away from you. You’d give anything to live every single day like this. You walk away still laughing at something JJ had said and walk back in with the scissors. You stop and fondly watch as John B and JJ fight over who gets to put an ornament on a certain branch. Blue Christmas by Elvis starts to play and without realizing it you start to cry. 

“You okay there cupcake?” JJ asks as he turns around to see you crying and worry flows through him. 

“I’m okay Jayj…” you tell him softly with a gentle smile on your face as you set the scissors on the table. 

“Then why the tears?” John B asks and you giggle wiping at your eyes. 

“I just wish we could all live like this everyday. Just us three having the times of our lives with nothing to worry about,” you start pausing to catch your breath a little bit and to sniffle. 

“Both Kie and Pope have their parents. I’m happy to just have you two,” you explain more tears welling up in your eyes and JJ clicks his tongue coming over to give you a hug. 

“I’m happy we have each other too, Bee, but unfortunately we can’t have it everyday. There’s always going to be good and bad days,” John B agrees with you as he to comes over to hug you. 

“I know, I just wish it could be that way,” you sigh out and JJ squeezes you once more. 

“I think we all do, cupcake. Let’s just try to live in this moment then yeah? Enjoy the time we have?” He asks and you grin up at him. 

“Yeah, okay,” you agree and he smiles happy to see you back to your happy go lucky self. 

You gasp as the song’s lyrics perfectly fit the moment. “But I’ll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas without you,” you sing along to Elvis as you sway and JJ shakes his head, but smiles as he watches you enjoy the music. 

“Perfect timing, much?” He jokes propping an eyebrow making both you and John B burst out laughing. 

“Yeah… definitely don’t quit your day job bug,” John B jokes and you shrug seemingly unfazed by his playful insult. 

“And what day job would that be birdy? Hunting for gold?” You playfully ask back, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“Okay. Okay… you win,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“I always win,” you say in a devious tone with an equally devious look. 

“Don’t I always win, Jay?” You ask, turning to JJ who looks between you and John B in a panic for a moment. 

“Sorry JB. I have to say she is definitely a winner in my book,” JJ tells both of you and you let out a cheer pumping your fist in the air. 

“Eat it birdy!” You cheer out as you do a little dance. 

“So not fair! JJ’s only on your side because he’s crushing hard. Let’s bring Sarah in as a tie breaker,” John B complains and you pause your dance crossing your arms as you prop an eyebrow at him. 

“How would that break the tie? One. Sarah, so would choose me too and second that’d only make it tied even more even if she did choose you,” you comment very pointedly and he shrugs sticking his tongue out. 

“At least it’d be more fair. Again, JJ only chose you because he’s crushing on you,” John B again points out and you shake your head. 

“And Sarah is so crushing on you,” you point out and JJ lets out an “ooooohhh” making you laugh. 

“She got you there JB,” JJ comments with a smirk that’s infectiously making you smirk too. 

“Okay birdy, you win. I take it as a compliment that my favorite person is crushing on me though,” you happily reply, leaving a kiss on JJ’s cheek and he blushes before awkwardly clearing his throat. 

“Okay. Okay. Enough fighting you two. I think it’s time to put the angel up right?” JJ cuts in only wanting to change the whole subject as he holds the Angel up for you to take from him. 

“Yeah, okay.” You agree as you take the Angel from him. 

You look down at the Angel in your hands, the angel you and your mom had picked out together when you were five. You don’t remember much of her, John B does because he’d been a little older (he’d been seven) when she left, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt when you think about how she’d just left the three of you behind. John B and your dad had told you so much about her that sometimes she felt like a phantom to you, like someone that was there for a second, someone you knew so well, then gone the very next. Tears well up in your eyes and you look up at John B. He immediately knows what you’re thinking and lets out a sigh, sad for you as always, he always felt sad you couldn’t fully remember her like he could. 

“I know, bug. I miss mom too,” John B sympathizes with you and you wipe under your eyes as JJ squeezes your shoulder. 

“I just wish I’d gotten to actually know her a little more,” you mutter and JJ pulls you into a hug knowing that’s the only sure way to comfort you. 

“Here, cupcake. Let me pick you up so you can reach the top of the Christmas tree.” JJ tells you after pulling away from the hug and he bends down before slipping his head between your legs lifting you as he stands. 

“You better not drop me Jayj!” You squeak out before giggling hysterically as you’re now sitting on his shoulders one hand in his hair the other holding the angel and he stands straight. 

“I would NEVER dream of it cupcake,” he sweetly tells you as he holds you a little tighter to make it known he definitely won’t drop you. 

You grin as you put the Angel on the tree before looking down to see JJ looking up at you. You then nod at him and he bends to let you down slowly. Once you have both feet on the ground he stands up straight next to you. You smile at him before suddenly you're letting out a gasp pushing JJ away just the slightest but in your excitement. 

“What? What’s wrong?” JJ asks immediate worry, taking over as he looks at John B for help, but John B just shrugs just as confused. 

“It’s If Everyday Was Like Christmas my favorite Elvis Christmas song,” you happily explain and JJ lets out a sigh of relief shaking his head. 

“We should have known,” John B playfully rolls his eyes 

“Oh we really should have dude. She is an old soul,” JJ agrees and he chuckles as you start to sway again just as you had with Blue Christmas and JJ shakes his head again too as you hold a hand out for him. 

“What?” JJ asks with an arched eyebrow and you grin making his heart melt at seeing you so happy. 

"I want to dance with you. Come on. Dance with me Jayj,” you beg, holding your hand out to him more insistently. 

“Okay, but you should know I’m not a good slow dancer sweetheart,” he informs you as he takes your hand in his and you smile as you help him get into position. 

“It’s okay J. Just sway with me. We don’t have to be all that fancy, we’re Pogues, remember? Not kooks,” you remind and he throws his head back laughing before calming as he sways with you. 

“P4L. Never a kook,” JJ happily agrees, proud that you feel the same way he does. 

You lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and his leans against yours. He looks at John B for a moment over your shoulder who seems to be watching the two of you fondly. John B then surprises him by putting his hands up in surrender before leaving the room and JJ melts against you a little more. 

When If Everyday Was Like Christmas ends both of you slowly come to a stop and you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him. You smile softly at him and again there’s a moment where you lock eyes. His bright brilliant blue eyes shining with happiness and another emotion that makes you think you might just kiss, but just like all the other moments over the years where you’d been close John B walks back into the room. 

“And what’s going on here?” John B asks ever the overprotective brother that he is and you roll your eyes. 

“Nothing birdy. Are we watching die hard or not?” You ask changing the subject as you push away from JJ and he fights not to frown at the missing feeling of your body heat. 

“Not. I thought we could open a gift or two,” John B tells you and you arch an eyebrow at him. 

“I thought we all agreed on no gifts this year?” You ask and John B shrugs. 

"I’d be down. I know we said no presents this year but I wanted to get you both something special to show you how much I appreciate you, so I uhh did…" JJ admits with a shrug in agreement and John B grins shrugging along with JJ. 

“My gifts really aren't much. Just one to open tonight and tomorrow for each of us. All have super special meaning that’s all,” John B informs you and you grin shaking your head. 

“Well I really can’t say much. I did the same thing,” you admit with a giggle when they both give you a shocked look. 

“Bee! It was your idea!” John B cries out and you smile sheepishly. 

“Oppps,” you shrug feigning innocence, shrugging "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone else right?” You ask with a lopsided grin and John B lets out a chortle shaking his head almost in disbelief. 

“I mean she’s not wrong dude,” JJ happily chirps out and you smirk, bouncing your eyebrows. 

“I’m never wrong Jayj,” you joke with him poking his side and he playfully scoffs. 

“Okay. Yeah, whatever you want to believe cupcake,” he humors you as he rubs at the spot you’d poked him in. 

After opening gifts you’d all decided to watch the movie so you cuddle up next to JJ and John B decides to sit in the chair off to the side. As the movie plays JJ lays behind you his strong arm wrapped around your waist like normal and anytime he laughs you feel the warm air from his mouth over your neck making goosebumps rise on your arms. You fight the whole movie not to fall even more in love with him and the way he holds you, but just like any other time the two of you cuddle you do. 

“Well, I’m beat. I’m going to bed,” John B announces as he slaps his hands down on the arms of the chair and pushes himself up. 

“Goodnight JB,” you call out as he walks toward his room and he turns around. 

“Goodnight bumblebee. Sleep tight,” he replies with a soft smile your way. 

“So cupcake, you heading to bed too?” JJ asks and you look up at him. 

“I’m not really tired. I might go lay in the hammock for a little while,” you inform him and he nods letting go of your waist. 

“You could come join me if you want, but you definitely don’t have to,” you tell him biting at your lip, nervous he might say no and he chuckles. 

“And skip out on our special hammock time?” He asks like he is offended and he smiles when you perk up. 

“Really?” You ask in excitement and he smiles even more. 

“Really cupcake. I love our hammock time. Let’s go,” he promises softly as he pushes up off the couch and grabs the blanket the two of you always use. 

He then turns to you and looks down at you sitting up before reaching a hand out to you. You smile almost shyly as you slip your hand into his and he pulls you up from the couch. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and together you walk out of the château. You both walk down the stairs and over to the hammocks. 

“After you princess,” JJ tells you as he bows like a butler would and you giggle shaking your head. 

“Why thank you. You're a very kind Prince, you know that?” You ask him as he lays down with you now and he holds his arm up for you to cuddle up to his side. 

“Well it’s easy to be kind to a princess like you,” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his flirty ness as he uses his other hand to put the blanket over the two of you. 

You giggle as he struggles to lay the blanket out evenly over the two of you and you reach out to grab the other side, pulling it over yourself. He chuckles softly, shaking his head before finally relaxing and he squeezes you softly as the two of you look up to watch the very prominent stars in the sky. 

“Can I tell you a secret cupcake?” He whispers out to you after a few minutes as he uses his fingers to rub your arm. 

“Of course Jayj… you can tell me anything. You know that,” you promise as you cuddle into his side even more. 

"I believe the Abominable Snowman may be real... I think there may be something in that." He whispers and you slowly grin, turning to smile up at him. 

“You might actually be right… I mean who’s to say he’s not real?” You ask and he chuckles, shaking his head loving the fact that you just agree with him. 

“I think I may have everything I want right here right now,” you whisper out as you cuddle back down into him with a hum of contentment. 

"Everything I want I can’t have." He admits and you frown pushing up to look at him again. 

“What do you mean? You don’t have everything you want? What else could you want?” You ask with a frown, sad that he could possibly not be as happy as you thought he was. 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them open once more. His blue eyes stare into yours and you almost lose yourself in them. 

“You,” he whispers almost nervously and you’ve never seen JJ at his nervous before as you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Jayj. You have me. I’m not sure why you think you don’t,” you tell him in confusion and he huffs in anger, but not in anger at you, no he’d never be angry at you, but he is angry you're not getting it. 

“No princess. You don’t get it… I want us to be… uggh,” he groans out reaching up to rub at his chest and your eyebrow furrows even more as you reach up moving his hand before rubbing his chest for him. 

“Jay. Just calm down and tell me. It’s okay… you want us to be…” you prompt him to continue on as he seems to calm a little more. 

“Okay… uhh… I want us to be more than friends and I know Pogues don’t Mack on Pogues, but I’ve wanted to be so much more with you for years…” he admits hesitation clear as he once again for the second time in the night refuses to look at you and you smile. 

“Jayj… look at me please…” you whisper out and hit takes him a moment, but soon he’s doing it. 

"It was always you, through everything it was always you Jayj. Nobody else,” you whisper again with a grin growing on your face as you watch him slowly realize exactly what you’d said. 

“Wait… really? But wait… what?” He asks in confusion and you giggle. 

"I'd always choose you Jayj.” You softly promise and nuzzle into his chest bashfully and he chuckles bringing his hand up to your head to massage at your scalp. 

“I’d always choose you too Princess,” JJ promises just as softly as he leaves a kiss to your forehead. 

“You missed…” you tell him with a confident grin as you sit up to look at him and he chuckles again shaking his head. 

“Oh my bad. Let’s see if I can fix my mistake then,” he jokes right back with his own smile growing. 

Before you know it his hand trails from your hair and to your neck, lightly pulling you to him while tilting your head ever so slightly. He moves slowly and treats you so gently making the butterflies erupt even more in your stomach. There’s a thick anticipation that falls over you with how slowly you move closer together, but it’s the kind of anticipation you really don’t want to end. Finally his lips meet yours in a firm yet delicate and maybe a little desperate kiss. You are a little surprised thinking it would have been a little more heated with knowing how JJ is, but the delicacy of which he kisses you proves to you just how much he’s wanted this. 

He worries if he makes it anymore heated like he normally does with other girls he’d ruin this whole moment and he really doesn’t want to lose you. You're the most important girl outta all the ones he’s ever been with so if he messes it up he’s scared he might lose you all together. You take a leap and kiss him a little harder, surprising him for the smallest of moments, but he smirks into the kiss before reciprocating it even more. You smile into the now heated kiss as you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck and play with the hair at the nip of his neck making him groan. You then maneuver a little more so now instead of laying side by side you lay on top of him and he squeezes your waist after his hands move from your neck. 

Slowly you pull away breaking the kiss almost unwillingly and he chases your lips giving them another peck making you giggle. He then leans his forehead against yours and you grin wide as both of your heavy breaths mingle together. 

“Wow…” you whisper, biting your lip and he grins at you. 

“Definitely wow. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admits and you grin as you use your thumb to trace his lips. 

“I know it may be early, but I love you Jayj. You’re my favorite Christmas gift,” you tell him as you scoot down and lay your head on his chest. 

“It’s not early at all, princess. I think we’ve loved each other for a while now. We’ve just been too scared to tell each other,” he tells you as he kisses your head and pulls you even closer then before. 

“Oh and you're my favorite gift too sweet girl. I love you,” JJ adds on and you sigh happily. 

“Merry Christmas Jayj…” you mutter out as tiredness takes over your body. 

“Merry Christmas cupcake,” JJ parrots you again, squeezing you a little closer. 

It’s a little while later and JJ smiles when he realizes you’re breathing has evened out meaning you’re happily asleep in his arms. He yawns, but refuses to fall asleep quite yet, just wanting to enjoy having what he thought he never could. 

"How long ago did, bug fall asleep?" He hears a whisper making him look up at John B. 

“Only a little while ago. She’ll probably sleep in a lot more than the last few years. I thought you went to bed?” JJ whispers not wanting to wake you as you sleep soundly on his chest. 

“I did, but I knew you two would come out here and I wanted to check up on the two of you to make sure you're all good before I actually fall asleep,” John B whispers back and JJ smiles a thankful smile at him. 

“Thanks man. We’re good,” JJ tells him and John B nods pausing to watch your sleeping face. 

“You take care of her, you hear me JJ. You break her and best friends or not I will break you,” John B says in a serious whisper and JJ’s eyes widen for a moment. 

“Don’t worry dude. I don’t plan to and if it ever does happen I’d break myself before you even hit the chance,” JJ whispers honestly and John B smiles at his best friend. 

“I know, but now that the two of you got wise and got together I still need to make it known. I’m her big brother first and foremost,” John B informs him with a shrug and a happy smile at seeing his sister happy as well as safe and sound in his best friend's arms. 

“Goodnight JJ. Sleep well buddy,” John B tells him before turning and starting back to the château. 

“Night man. You sleep well too,” JJ tells him in a happy whisper as he nuzzled into your hair. 

John B knows without a doubt that JJ is good for his little sister and you are for JJ too. He’s so happy the two of you have finally confessed and made it official. He’s had to watch the two of you pine for one another for years and it was painful sometimes because he cares for both of you so much. First and foremost though as he’d told JJ you are and will always be his first thought. It’s just a big brother thing to protect his little sister. 

JJ watches until John B makes it into the château before deciding to hold you close for a little while longer. Before he knows it though your soft, even breathing lulls him into his own slumber and his eyes close, but even in his sleep he holds you close never ever wanting this Christmas to end; the most perfect Christmas ever for the both of you. 

The End…

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[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side

The Arcane brainrot remains strong, and is apparently strong enough to make me write a fic twice as long as usual. Dammit Silco

Summary: Silco receives reports of an enforcer in Zaun beating the chem-barons at their own game and goes to investigate. He doesn't expect to see a ghost of his past.

It's always on the bridge that his life-changing moments happen. First it was Felicia's death, then Vander's betrayal. Now…now it was you, trading your life for his, pushing him away as enforcers moved towards the both of you.

Go, your lips mouth as your dagger sinks into the throat of the enforcer closest to him. You rip the blade out, causing blood to spurt from the wound and whirl around to face the others, shouting a challenge to draw their attention away.

His feet remain rooted to the ground, throat dry as he watches enforcers crowd around you, hears your war cries as you turn into a deadly whirlwind of steel and suddenly Sevika is dragging him away, eyes hard. Your cries get softer as Sevika hauls him further and further away from you, until he can no longer hear you anymore, nor see you.

No, he can't lose you too. Not after everything, not after what he's promised you. Not when the reality of Zaun is so close at hand —

"—co! Silco!" He blinks slowly, raising his head. Sevika stands before him, her flesh hand on the table supporting her as she leans forward, staring right at him.

"What is it, Sevika?" He groans, noticing the fallen pieces of paper that he will have to reorganise later.

"There have been reports of an enforcer single-handedly cutting their way through Zaun. All the chaos has been affecting business and the chem-barons have been complaining."

"Are they all that useless? One enforcer is giving them so much trouble?" Silco rubs his temple. As if the chem-barons themselves aren't enough of a problem already, now they're handing him more problems to deal with.

"The enforcer apparently knows all the ins and outs of Zaun or something," Jinx chimes in from her perch atop the rafters. She lazily rolls over to look at Silco, playing around with her latest grenade, grinning down at him. "Disappearing into the alleys only to pop out again when everyone least expects it and kills everyone."

Silco frowns, how would an enforcer know Zaun's streets well enough to trick chem-barons? The only plausible explanation he can think of is that someone had given the enforcer a map, and a traitor in their midst was an thorn he had to remove with haste.

"I suppose I will have to clean up after them once again," he sighs. "Sevika, track this enforcer down. Follow their movements, take note of anyone they meet and report back."

"Understood." With that, his ever-loyal right-hand exits his office, leaving him alone with Jinx.

"You know," she hops onto his desk, "that enforcer looked rather familiar."

Silco raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks, knowing she has stolen back his attention. "They looked a lot like…someone…what was their name again?"

Silco turns back to his stack of paperwork when she falls silent once more and Jinx rummages through a drawer, only to slam it shut with a loud bang that echoes all around the room. She lunges forward, deft fingers quickly finding the thin chain around his neck and pulls on it, hard.

"They had this hanging around their neck too." She whispers. "Sounds familiar?"

No. No, it couldn't be. You — you were gone, dead, lost to the enforcers that day on the bridge. It couldn't be you, it had to be an imposter, there was no way — he had to see it for himself. He had to know, had to confirm it with his own eye.

"Are you sure?" He asks calmly, careful not to break his facade. He had to remain rational, control his emotions for this could be a trap laid by Piltover, but how would they know about you? Too many questions, not enough answers. He could wait for Sevika's report, he had patience.

Jinx lets go of the chain, sliding off his desk. "I saw it myself. You can't miss it, dangles from their neck like an obnoxious piece of jewellery."

Silco's eye widens slightly. There is no doubt about it, it really is you, but how? How had you survived the fight, the riots, and why didn't you come back to Zaun? To him? His fingers curl around his cup as he searches for the answer in his past. You'd promised to be by his side, and he thought that promise lost when he was separated from you that day, but you were very much alive. Had you lied? Yet another question to ask when he got his hands on you.

Jinx notices the twitching and frowns. Silco was clearly hiding something from her, and she didn't like it when he did that. She leans forward, "who are they to you?"

"Someone I may know," he answers, pushing Jinx away. "Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

"Hmph," Jinx pouts, annoyed that she isn't getting a proper answer. "They're clearly someone you were close to, otherwise they wouldn't have that ugly ring."

Silco sighs, picking up the topmost paper from the pile, "Not anymore. Now go and tinker with something else or make yourself useful and help Sevika track the enforcer down."

Jinx groans but exits the office, leaving Silco alone with his thoughts. Was the enforcer really you? How were you still alive? He plays with the ring hanging around his neck, remembering the day you had presented him with the ring. It hadn't been anything special, fancy or big. Just a simple gesture of shoving a box into his hand and telling him to open it.

"What's this?"

"A surprise gift! Open it!" You grin at him, clearly rather excited about his reaction to whatever that gift is. He frowns, mind cycling through possible pranks you could pull with this 'surprise gift' of yours and stares at it suspiciously.

"I told you it'd backfire," Vander chuckles, cleaning a glass. "You can't escape that reputation of yours."

"Oh come on! I'm not that bad…am I?" You blink owlishly as the two men stare at you incredulously. "…I see. Thank you both for the votes of confidence."

"You're welcome," Silco drawls, suppressing a chuckle of amusement as he pulls the box closer. "You're going to clean up whatever mess comes of me opening this box, understand?"

"I swear there will be no mess!" You pout, slumping onto the table. Vander laughs, ruffling your hair, "I can vouch for her this time, Silco."

"Fine," Silco sighs, but still braces himself as he opens the box — to reveal a simple metal band resting on a cushion.

"So, gonna marry me or —"

"How did you get this?" Silco lifts the ring into the light, studying it. There are carvings set in the metal, your initials and his, bringing a smile to his face as he reads it. "And yes, I am 'going to marry you', don't fret."

"Yes!" You whisper-yell giddily, excitedly bouncing around the bar. Vander pours three drinks, pushing two towards Silco and you while drinking the last one, chuckling. Silco rolls his eyes, taking the cup offered by Vander and throws his pen at you. You yelp as the pen hits you squarely in the forehead and then chuck the pen right back at him.

Silco calmly dodges your terrible aim, taking another sip from his cup, "are you going to answer my question or not?"

"I stole it!"

"I don't believe you."

"What?!" You flop onto the floor dramatically. "The man I love doesn't believe me, it's over."

"Who did you steal this from?" Silco slips the ring onto his finger, then takes it off again. It's far too loose. "I'll need to hang this around my neck."

"Uh…a jewellery merchant I happened across a couple days ago."

"And you didn't even check the ring size."

"I'm supposed to know your ring size?" You snort, moving over to the counter top.

"I don't know, are you?" Silco leans in close, swiping your drink.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Silco simply smirks at you as he drinks half before handing it back, "too slow."

"Give that ring back! I'm reverting my decision, you drinks thief!"

"It's mine already, I'm afraid I'm not keen on parting with it." Silco quickly glances around, ensuring no one is looking before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "Although I could make it up to you with a return gift."

"Oh? Better not disappoint me then, Sil~" You grin, capturing his lips into a full kiss, which he returns.

"Have I ever, love?"

He tucks the ring away upon hearing his office door open, revealing a scowling Sevika who has a couple of scratches.

"They got away, sorry," she grunts, "but I did find out who they are. It's Y/N. They really are alive."

"How?" Silco growls.

"Don't know, but they don't remember me. Don't know if they'll remember you." She frowns. "Going in alone is stupid, don't you dare think about it."

"I wasn't." Silco sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose. There's a weird ache in his chest, a pull that tries to drag him out of his office but he forces it back down. He can't let his emotions take a hold of him, there is much he doesn't know about your situation, going after you right now is far too risky.

Still, he takes a different turn during his usual nightly routine, entering an alleyway and takes out a cigar, lighting it. He lets the ring around his neck dangle outside his clothes, the silver reflecting what little light exists at this time of day. A ring of smoke floats into the air, disappearing into the cold night sky as footsteps sound from his left.

"About time you showed up, you've always been late whenever I wasn't around to haul you out of bed." Silence greets him, save for the click of a gun and Silco turns to face you. "Silence really doesn't suit you."

The gun lifts, pointing right at him and he simply stares back. A finger curls around the trigger, pressing it down slightly but he remains unfazed.

"Y/N." He can see the ring that hangs around your neck now, a simple gold coloured band hanging from a thin silver chain. He remembers the day he gave it to you, the way you took great care of it every day, but now it hangs tarnished from your neck, stained and rusted. "It's dirty."

He reaches over, pressing his chest against the barrel of the gun and inspects the ring. He can easily get rid of the rust that has set in, scrub away the dirt but returning it to its former shine will be quite impossible. He clicks his tongue, annoyed and lets go of the ring lifting his gaze to meet your empty eyes. "Let's go home."

The gun doesn't go off, your finger falling from the trigger when you see the ring hanging around his neck, images flashing through your mind. Memories that feel familiar and alien at the same time roar in your head, confusion eating away at you and you drop your gun, clutching at your head. Your chest tightens, lungs refusing to inhale the oxygen you need and your heart thunders in your ears.

No no no no no.

"Breathe." A deep voice cuts through the haze. "In and out. Focus on my voice, follow my instructions. I will not lose you again."

You force your lungs to cooperate, following the instructions step by step, encouraged by the gentle deep voice until your vision refocuses.

"Silco," you whisper shakily. "Silco."

"I'm right here," he murmurs, arms wrapping around you.

"I —"

"Hush now, love. Everything's alright."

"No, it's not. I nearly — I — Sevika —" Panic bubbles to the surface but Silco quickly steps in before the situation can spiral.

"Sevika is alright. You held back enough for her to escape with a few scratches." He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You're back, with him, in his arms. Silco tightens his grip, hugging you closer. It can't be a dream, such a dream would be far too cruel.

"They took me, suppressed my memories, Silco I —" You choke out a sob, tears silently flowing down your cheeks. His heart aches at the sight, it always has whenever he saw you cry.

"But they could never take away our love." He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your new scent. You smell like Piltover, a weird freshness, a hint of lavender that doesn't suit you in the slightest, and that disgusting blue clashes with the colour of your eyes. Your hair is no longer as rugged, it's combed neatly and Silco ruffles it, running his fingers through the strands like he used to.

He kisses you until your breath smells like cigars, throws his jacket over your shoulders and bundles you in it until he's satisfied he can't smell the Piltover stink anymore then presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. You smell like ash now, like the smoke that fills Zaun's air and he allows himself a small smile. The only trace of Piltover left now is the blue uniform but that has to wait until the both of you are home.

You're back now, with him, safely in his arms, and that's all that really matters. You, by his side once more, keeping the promise you had made to him years ago.

Don't worry, I'll be by your side, always.

[celestialholz]

Live long and fuck in Hondas (or 'why that Vulcan salute is way more significant than you think it is')

Hey. Hey Holz. Did you know Deadpool and Wolverine fucked in the Odyessy? Did you know that they now live in a one-bed with Blind Al? Did you know that -

Yes, friend. I know all of it. And you're all super fucking valid for pointing it out.

... But maybe all of you aren't seasoned Trekkies like me. Maybe not all of you gorgeous people understand the true significance of this.

Or maybe you just want a definitive way to win the argument of "are these two fucking?"

But either way, I'm here to help, and to tell you why, amongst all the absurdly homoerotic text of this film, this moment? Might be the gayest of them all.

Now, we must start by saying that although you wouldn't know it from the bullshit Abrams films, these two:

Are the fathers of gay fanfiction. Spock and Kirk here are the reason you're living in the fantastic timeline where you can write/read men fucking without any other shred of plot and that this is a legitimate and normalised internet experience - everyone say thank you, iconic papas. These guys were so homoerotically coded that even in the 60s, the era of wondrously overdramatic performances of all kinds and fairly prevalent homophobia, The Girlies still took notice, still started mailing each other fics and making zines and being just hugely excited at the thought of these two getting space-married. They are fandom as we know it today's beginning, and seventy years later they're still an enduringly popular ship on AO3. (You should all go and watch Amok Time, by the way. Contains the Honda Odyessy scene of the 60s, except there's weird biology and wrestling and just go and put it on your screens, thank me later. They fucked on that planet.)

Anyway, these two were as close as early colour TV could ever allow two men to be, deepening their *coughs* friendship almost every single episode or film - Trek's creator Gene Roddenberry even gave them a unique word in Spock's Vulcan language, with the meaning of 'friend, brother, lover.' (And if that isn't ringing any Poolverine bells, I'm not actually sure what you want out of this post. Enjoy it anyway, love you.)

... And then we get to 1982's The Wrath of Khan, and to that moment that every iconic screen couple must face - the ol' classic, it's you or me and I won't let it be you.

Sure, the set-up's a little different here - the chamber Spock's in is filled with radiation, and the scene's quieter, softer. And Kirk isn't a mutant so he can't smash his way in, he can just sit there and inwardly die as his emotional support Vulcan does.

... But you get where I'm coming from here. Ryan Reynolds doesn't take a million other potential love scenes from across the cinematic ages - no, he takes this. What is for many the romantic acknowledgement of a whole generation. The humble and desperately sweet beginning of it everything we fans know and love nowadays. The most ambiguously romantic homosexual relationship in television, directly comparative to what is now arguably the most ambiguously romantic homosexual relationship in cinema. And lest we forget, Wade doesn't believe in a fourth wall - this is a conscious choice, both in canon and in the writer's room.

Oh it's so clever and so beautiful a girl could weep. Ryan just introduced the MCU to the gays, just as Kirk and Spock did all those years ago to the masses of the time.

And then there's what it means.

This is the Vulcan salute, created to mean either 'live long and prosper' or 'peace and long life' - it's used more or less interchangeably.

But part of that's irrelevant when you're as immortal as these two.

So we're left with the sentiments of prosperity and peace, given to a man who up to this point can't imagine ever prospering again, is the furthest thing away from being at peace. Wade gives Logan the opportunity to go on, to find the things he's been lacking for so long now - things he has already helped him find. Spock tells Kirk during The Wrath that 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,' and that's exactly what Wade's doing here - sacrificing himself for the greater good of his friends and his newly beloved, however much it will hurt them all.

And that's lovely, and poignant, and character-growing, and I think we all would have been content to leave it at that and have our noble sacrifice, however much we would have wept. Kirk goes on to find the remnants of Spock's soul in the next film in the series, to bring him essentially back from the dead because he felt it was more than his own soul's worth not to have done... which, again, ringing a bell anyone?

Because Logan, in not so many words, tells dear Wade to fuck right off, and we get this.

What we've got here is a direct translation of one of cinema's gayest moments, made somehow infinitely more gay. A true achievement here - I genuinely think I spontaneously acquired tetanus in the cinema for a good minute, my jaw dropped so hard on seeing this. The pillars are the same colour as Kirk and Spock's original uniforms, for fuck's sake. I'm dying out here.

What we've done here is create narrative equality. The whole film's kinda done that leading up to this anyway - they're both mentally fucked up men who can't die, who are constantly dying anyway, who are evenly-matched in battle and both enjoy Honda fucking, who have forged a real love even as they piss each other off at every turn.

But here, they place one another in narrative equality for the first time. It's not about a sacrifice, not now, even though they're assuming it is one - it's about what should be done. It's about righting wrongs, being heroes, being together because every option other than that is unacceptable, because neither understands quite how to lose anyone else. They've both made the same choice, and that's not to let the other die alone.

It's about holding hands and loving and never letting go, even if it kills them.

... It's just about the most romantic and gorgeous thing I've ever fucking seen.

There are no more instances of masks, once they're done in this station. They don't need them any longer; they will never need them again.

And that's only emphasised by the parting shot we get of this... almost directly after Vanessa and Wade share a final sweet look.

I don't know, man. It's almost like the true conclusion is hidden behind the acceptable masquerade. Imagine that in the MCU, folks.

They've taken one of the most intimate and sweet moments in screen history, and made even more glorious.

They did The Wrath of Khan better than The Wrath of Khan did it.

And that's... that's gay. That's just about the gayest thing they could ever have done, and I adore it to the smallest pieces.

So remember, the next time your friends disbelieve you... show 'em this. Show them that they redid the very beginnings of slash fandom, and did it better.

(And then you can add on that they now live in a one-bed with their grandma, daughter and dog, and will do for the rest of their lives. Kirk and Spock didn't even get THAT shit.)

[sam-out-of-energy]

I'm back writing more fic for kefs mecha jazz AU but as texaid has taken over me as of currrent thats what im writin! Just some silly guys and some silly tings, vortex being a weird character yanno :D i went for a bit of a spooky vibe but lmk what ya'll think

Tw for gore i guess? Its not that detailed, but just in case

-------

First Aid- er, Felix, didn't even bother to ask how he'd gotten here. So much had happened since that faithful day he'd been assigned to clean the mecha- er- to clean Vortex.

Thats what this thing liked to call itself apparently. Felix had taken into habit to ignore the text on screens flashing in his face, but when he'd done that the thing had started speaking in his head instead.

So they communicated through screens.

"Dance with me First Aid" it asked, over and over and over again.

When they were deployed, Felix did his darndest to avoid touching the controls. And he didn't have to try too hard as this mecha would move and control itself just fine, slicing and dicing enemies left to right with it's blades.

Felix was a silent observer to the mechas insane violence, but something about it kept him watching. Maybe it was the numbness he already felt towards corpses, but his morbid curiosity peaked whenever he watched Vortex through Vortex's eyes.

Vortex would tease Felix to its hearts content (did it even have a heart? Something equivalent to that anyway), asking him if he was "enjoying the show", wiggling the controls in front of Felix like holding a bone up to a dog.

Felix knew better than to fall for tricks. He knew that every other pilot who had come before him had perished way earlier just by merely pressing one button. He was not about to face the same fate.

Not...until today.

He hadn't had time to think of another solution.

An enemy had caught them unarmed and for the first time ever, knocked Vortex down. No, not even knocked, slammed Vortex down. Hard enough for Felix to feel it.

Sytems fried, a loud buzzing in the back of his head and now, Felix staring up at an alien being, holding a sword over his- Vortex's- their head.

Felix had called for his mecha to wake, but when there wasn't a single stirr in Vortex's body, he'd been forced to grab the controls himself, catching the enemy by suprise and stabbing Vortex's blade through its chest.

The mecha rose at First Aids command. Felix felt his face lift to a grin, something stirring within himself he'd not felt before.

"Haha! Yes!" He squealed almost unintentionally before lifting the blade and pointing it up at the remaining enemies.

"Let's dance!!"

-

Felix sat at the controls. He'd driven the other all the way back to base before he'd shut down the power and just...sat for a while. He'd maybe felt a bit too connected to the mecha. The blood and gore in Vortex's hands had felt so real...too real for Felix's comfort.

He'd sat for long enough before realizing that Vortex stirred. He heard the buzz of systems coming online, the growl of an engine.

"Vortex?" He mumbled, catching himself out of his own daze of thoughts.

Then, the head shook, twisting violently enough to send Felix, unstrapped, falling and tumbling out of his seat.

He sat up quickly. He felt eyes watching him, coldness falling upon the cockpit and then...something dripped on him.

Felix looked up, before looking back to the maw of the beast (the entrance hatch). He saw blood, dripping and soon cascading down from under panels and cracks.

He felt his gut stirr as he quickly rose to his feet, stumbling when he saw blood cover the floor.

"What the fuck-"

He quickly became keenly aware of the space he was now trapped in. The dangerously sharp blades of the fans stirring on the walls, ones he'd picked plenty of fingers out of. The sharp edges of the panels on the roof, somehow able to catch guts, flesh and viscera hanging off the edges.

The floor of the cockpit, now seemingly flooding with blood, staining Felix's suit.

"I'm...sorry? Vortex. I'm sorry." He found himself suddenly speaking. Perhaps it was fright that had forced him to stand still, not sure if the visceral bits of skin and body parts he saw on the walls were real or not.

What the hell?! This thing itself had been begging him to use the controls! Now it was..punishing him for it?

Panic settled in Felix's mind without him even thinking too hard. He had to run, he had to escape.

And that he..tried. Bright red screens watched First Aid back further and further from the entrance, pressing against the wall of the cockpit. No way he could get out the right way, he'd be crushed before he could get through one hatch.

Felix suddenly felt a sharp pain. He twisted and jumped back from the wall, looking down to see what looked like some sort of hook that had sprung out and stabbed into his thigh. (A gap in between his armour).

He let out a painsoaked grunt, pressing a palm over the bleeding spot (He wasnt sure if it was his own blood or not).

A thought came to him. The only other route of escape. Felix limped to the control panel and almost found himself gagging at a pair of hands, torn from the wrists, hanging off of it, rigor mortis the only thing keeping them gripping to the edge of the panel. Everything stank of blood and rust.

He pressed the emergency exit button and turned when he saw a hatch open at the back.

Upon approaching, Felix found that it was just a...chute. An opening at the back of the head that slid down and then opened at the bottom to reveal a fall that was...god knows how long. Vortex was tall.

Felix bit the bullet, grabbing onto the small nooks and cracks inside the chute before starting to climb.

He'd managed to descend about halfway before realizing what kind of a situation he'd just put himself in. Like a prey animal running into a corner, driving itself into the worst possible situation out of sheer panic to escape. The predator had only needed to watch and wait.

Felix let out a stressed "No!" When he saw the hatch below slam shut. The slam of a hatch above made him lose his grip and fall down.

-

It was pitch black, the only illumination inside the escape chute being the small red LEDs lining its walls.

Felix's heart beat louder than the entire mecha. He felt his pulse rush, cold sweat coming down his back.

"Vortex, please"

He called out.

Ch-THUNK!

A hatch slammed shut above him.

Felix's eyes widened at the imminent danger approaching.

Ch-THUNK!

"Vortex" he choked up. He didn't want to die like this. God help the poor sap who would have to dig his crushed and dismantled corpse out of the mechas escape chute.

Ch-THUNK!

Ch-THUNK!

CH-THUNK!

"Vortex!!" He screamed one last time.

It was silent. Felix found himself screaming for a lot longer than he thought.

He

He wasn't dead?

His eyes opened. He was still in darkness, pressed back as down as he could be, against the emergency chute. One last hatch closed barely above his head, upon trying to lift himself, he'd bumped his helmet into it.

Felix then found that he was falling in the blink of an eye as the chute opened again. He couldn't muster out anymore screams, landing on something before he had time to process that he'd fallen in the first place.

A hand. A giant mechanical hand, slowly lifting and bringing him up to a terrifyingly familiar face and then to a dearly familiar scaffolding.

Felix took no hesitation to jump off the hand and land on the scaffolding, stumbling and turning to look back at the giant mecha infront of him.

He panted, falling to his knees when he caught solid ground, watching the bright red glow of the mechas visor.

He turned down to feel his body, his hands trembling from the afterburn of adrenaline. He took off his helmet to feel the cool air brushing over all his senses.

He was alive. His thigh was hurting, but he was alive.

Felix heard a thunk, lifting his head to see that the visor had dimmed. Inside, a bright red glow of a tv screen.

"Did you enjoy it"

it asked, the words read out by a voice inside Felix's head for him. Then the text changed and so did the voices tone, from a mechanical one to sounding more....amused.

"See you tomorrow, First Aid"

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ coming home too late﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: based entirely on the song, coming home by beabadoobee. pure fluff.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: soooo much fluff, spencer’s pov, spencer is in love with reader, reader is just as in love with him, very small mention of depression, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader loves to clean, established relationship, derek morgan is spencer and reader's #1 fan, did i mention spencer is in love?

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eeeek my second fic!! i got so happy writing this. maybe the most sickening sweet thing i ever did do. i love beabadoobee's music so much i kinda wanna write a million different things based on her songs. Anyways..!!! as always likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated :3

spencer reid had never felt more relieved to be sitting inside this jet than he was right now.

sure, he’s happy every single time his team is able to wrap up a case. he’s happy every single time they catch the bad guy. he’s happy every single time justice is brought to victims and their families. he’s happy every single time he gets to come home and see you. he’s happy every single time he notices the way your eyes light up when you see him walk through the door. he’s happy every single time you throw your arms around his neck and he gets to pick you up, inhaling your sweet scent as if he’d never be able to embrace you again.

but this time it was a little different. it was currently 6:54pm in california where the latest case was. meaning it was 9:54pm back home. it would take approximately five hours to fly home and another thirty minutes to drive to his apartment. meaning he wouldn’t step through his door until way after three in the morning and he knew you’d be sound asleep by then. and it was saturday, a day that never held much weight to him until he started living with you.

he found out that you grew up with a rather strict routine in your home. your parents deemed every saturday ‘cleaning day’. every saturday you did your weekly chores and that habit stuck with you as you moved on to live with college roommates, on your own and eventually with spencer.

he remembers when he first asked you to move in with him. you’d been dating for about a year and a half at that point. he brought it up in a rather nonchalant way and he was so thankful you were not a profiler and couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating inside his chest as he started to ask.

“you know… you sleepover here a lot. i mean, you have your own drawer in my dresser, your own space in my closet…” he started one morning, sipping from his mug of sugary sweet coffee. “your skincare stuff in my bathroom, your special shampoos in my shower… your little treats stocked in my fridge…” his lips started twitching, trying to fight the stupid large smile that wanted to show on his face.

you hummed in response, your fingers tapping against your own mug that was full of tea. you hated coffee. when he learned that he bought a box of your favorite tea and kept it stocked in his kitchen. “are you… complaining?” you asked, voice sort of quiet with uncertainty.

he shook his head immediately, realizing he wasn’t being as straightforward as he assumed. “no!” his voice squeaked slightly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “no… no, i was just… i mean, you spend so much time here and i really love it. i love you being here with me and i… if you wanted to move in i would… i mean, i want you to move in. if you want to. please.”

thankfully your heart was just as pretty as you were and you didn’t let him nervously ramble for too long. instead you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “relax. i’d love to, spencer. but i have to warn you, i’m quite a lot to deal with twenty-four seven…” he would just stare back at you, with nothing but love and admiration pouring from brown hues. he always thought you were so silly when you’d say things like that and he’d spend the rest of the morning telling you that while peppering sweet kisses to every inch of your skin.

he did learn very quickly just how serious you were about your routine. you woke up at six in the morning every saturday. you’d start in the bathroom, then make your way to the kitchen, then collect the dirty laundry from the week, then focus on organizing every little desk and shelf he had in his home. at first you wouldn’t let him help you, explaining that you didn’t want him to feel obligated in helping you with your own crazy little habit. he’d shake his head and just ask you what kind of laundry detergent you liked as he piled clothes into a basket.

“if you keep up with it weekly, then it won’t get out of hand and too big to fix.” you mumbled one time while scrubbing the dishes. “sometimes when the scaries got really bad, i used to forget to keep up with my cleaning. all the mess just made things more unbearable. keeping on top of it makes me feel more in control. even if the ‘cleaning’ one week is just refilling the toilet paper and doing one single load of laundry.”

he nodded his head in response, emptying the trash beneath the sink. spencer was nothing but soft with you, but even more so whenever you mentioned your struggles with depression or ‘the scaries’ as you called it. the two of you quickly fell into a habit every single saturday. you split the work load. you’d do the dishes, he’d carry the trash out, you’d fold the laundry, he’d vacuum the rug. he didn’t have to say it, you’d already know, but he enjoyed the structure of routine just as much as you did. the rest of your saturdays were spent on the sofa, your head in his lap while you forced him to watch your favorite childhood show. takeout food spread across the coffee table in front of you. there was so much comfort the two of you found in the domesticity of it all.

so, yes, he was a little bit upset he missed this saturday and was so ready to get home and pull you into his arms and never let go. he hadn’t noticed him spacing out, eyes focused on the same page of a book he was reading for five minutes, until he heard derek morgan’s voice.

“hey, loverboy!” spencer’s head snapped up, brows furrowing at the man giving him a cheeky smile. “you’ve been staring at that page for an eternity. what’s on your mind, huh?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

you met the whole team ages ago and every one of them adored you but derek especially admired the way you loved spencer. he’d never say it out loud, unless it was in a teasing way to get spencer to blush, but he genuinely believed you were an angel sent to the boy genius. derek noticed how blissful you made him, how gentle you were and how safe he felt with you. how could his heart not swell in appreciation for the love you gave to his brother?

“i missed cleaning day…” spencer spoke, brows pulling together slightly. there was a soft sigh that fell from his lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket. your last text saying you were gonna stay up and wait for him even though you both knew that you’d fall asleep the moment you got comfortable.

“okay… and is that a bad thing?” derek responded, leaning back into his seat with a slightly confused expression.

“well, yeah. she likes cleaning every saturday and we normally split the work between us. that way we have more time to spend together.” spencer huffed and tucked his phone away again. he closed the book he was reading. “it’s more than just the cleaning, derek. i hate being away from her, you know? we never know when we’re gonna get called away on a case like this and i like spending as much time as i can with her. and i hate coming home late. it makes me feel like i’ve missed so much.”

derek breathed out a laugh but nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. emily prentiss came around the corner, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other resting gently on spencer’s shoulder. “spencer reid, you have become the most smitten, lovestruck man since you met that girl. and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” everyone on the jet chuckled softly at that, even aaron hotchner, while he blushed and adverted his eye contact towards the shaded window. he knew they weren’t laughing at him, more so showing an expression of how happy they were that he was happy.

he stepped into the dimly lit living room of his apartment at exactly 3:26am. the tv glowed over your sleeping body on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed red panda he gifted you a few birthdays ago. the netflix screen asking ‘are you still watching avatar: the last airbender?’ shined in his face as he leaned in to shut the machine off. he walked over to your sleepy state, a tiny smile growing on his lips as he leaned in to brush some of your hair from your face. he tucked one arm beneath your knees and held the other one to your arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

you stirred, humming softly as he quietly shushed you. “shh, hi baby. i’m home now. go back to bed, yeah?”

“how was the flight?” you asked in a soft whisper, ignoring his requests. he chuckled, shaking his head and he set you gently on the cushion of his mattress.

“it was fine. too long. i’m sorry i’m home late.” he was just as quiet as you, pulling the duvet over your body and tucking it at your shoulders. he picked up the stuffed animal that had fallen beside the bed and tucked it next to you as well.

“it’s okay. we always have tomorrow.” with your eyes still closed, you smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“yes, my love. we do, don’t we? i’m gonna get changed okay? go back to bed.”

“i’ll wait for you.”

when he was changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas, he turned back and found you soundly asleep again. he let out a quiet laugh, got into bed and pulled you right to his chest. he played with your hair until he fell asleep too, no longer upset about the day he missed with you because you were right.

he always had tomorrow.

[pyrodolls]

admirer! yandere boy x hitman! reader

✰ warnings: murder, mentions of blood and poison, stalking, obsessiveness, regular yandere tendencies, reader is a hitman, reader is also a fake ass bitch, lowercase intended, gender neutral reader and no use of y/n. i do not condone yanderes irl or the themes in this fic.

✰ a/n: hey guys so i saw people on tiktok playing yandere simulator and implementing an admirer/stalker in the game. inspiration struck and i thought i’d write something based off of that. if this is well-liked i may write another part. i’m also hoping to write more frequently cuz it’s summer now!! expect more frequent updates and some reqs to finally be written :) also, i was hoping you guys could comment or message some name ideas for our little admirer!yandere boy…

you thought you got away with it. you were hired to eliminate a student in your class, and nobody ever found out it was you. you were able to show up to school the next week, unbothered, even though the staff and students were weeping over the loss of their classmate. you were even at the late student’s funeral, standing amongst the sea of supporters dressed in black, and not a single soul knew it was you.

except for one. it was a boy that was in your class. he sat behind you, staring at the back of your head every day, hoping you’d talk to him. hoping you’d look at him. he was completely and utterly infatuated with you. he knew your entire schedule, address, interests, and more. for someone that killed people for a living, you somehow never noticed the boy that followed you everywhere you went.

he was the one that noticed your crime. he saw when you slipped a poison into your fellow classmate’s food, and watched them cough up blood for a couple minutes before they died. if a regular student witnessed what you did, they would run away and report you. but your little admirer just stood and grinned. oh, how pretty you looked with blood on your skin. you were so skilled at your job, how could he not admire your work?

he didn’t tell a single soul. he already found out about your twisted job long ago, he just never had the luck to see it in person. it didn’t phase him in the slightest. in fact, it made him want you even more. he even went home that day and ranted to his wall about what he saw. how he wanted to go up to you and compliment your skills, how mesmerizing you were when you swiftly disposed of the evidence, how strong you were to simply go on with your other classes as if nothing happened.

the week after that student’s funeral, it was deemed a self-inflicted death. there were new posters all over the walls with phrases such as: “you are loved!” or “you are not alone!” to prevent the incident from occurring again. your stalker felt overjoyed. you were getting away with it! he couldn’t be more proud of you. he decided to let you know how he felt as quickly as possible. he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.

during your first class, you felt a tap on your shoulder. the scrawny boy behind you held up a small, folded sheet of paper with shaky hands. you took the paper and gave a fake smile to the boy. when you opened the note, you read: “meet me on the roof during lunch.”

you had to keep up your “friendly” reputation at school, so you couldn’t reject him. that’s why you reluctantly went up to the roof.

however, he was panicked. he immediately regretted his decision the moment you read his note. he couldn’t focus during his other classes because of how nervous he was.

but he couldn’t just leave you hanging, so he went up to the rooftop anyway.

“so.. what’s your na-“

“i love you!” the boy blurted out, interrupting your attempt at a kind greeting. his sudden confession left you speechless, and you had no clue how to respond.

he waited for your answer, hoping you weren’t disgusted. he stood with his hands tightly gripping his shirt, staring at the floor. he was too scared to look up at your face.

after a painfully long minute, he opened his mouth again. “i… have been watching you for a while. i am in love with you. every day, i only think of you. i kept it a secret for a while, but after i saw how you killed that studen-”

you quickly pinned him to the wall with your arm buried into his neck. “shut your mouth!” you scolded, looking around to see if anyone heard him.

“listen man, i don’t know who you are. but you’re sounding like a real fuckin’ freak, and you saw what i did. give me one good reason why i should spare your life.” you threatened.

“i’m on your side! i swear! i meant that i was amazed by what i saw! i’ve always been in love with you, but seeing what you did made me fall even harder. you looked so good with blood on your face, by the way.” he babbled, pathetically choking out praises in hopes that you would believe him.

you scoffed. “and how do i know you’re not coming up with some random bullshit so i don’t kill you?”

“i never reported you! it’s been a week and i never told a single soul what i saw. if i didn’t love you, i would’ve told someone. but i didn’t! because i really, truly love you. please give me a chance, i’ll be the best boyfriend ever! i’ll do your homework, i’ll cook and clean for you, and i know all your favorite shows and movies so i can talk to you about them!” he rambled.

as fun as that sounded, you really weren’t looking for a boyfriend at the moment. you were too busy. besides, even if you did want a boyfriend, this guy would be nowhere near your top picks.

“i don’t want a boyfriend. i don’t even know you! plus, no matter what you say, you still saw what i did. i won’t let you leave this roof alive.” you declared.

“nononono please, i’ll help you! i’ll assist you in killing people or something. i’ll do anything to prove my love. just give me a chance to be with you. listen, you can give me a month, and if you still don’t like me, you can kill me.” he proposed.

you thought about it for a moment. it didn’t sound like a bad idea. this guy’s willing to be a free, personal assistant. he could take a lot of weight off your chest if he helped with your work. and you knew a guy this scrawny could never beat you in a fight, so if anything goes wrong, you can eliminate him easily.

“you got yourself a deal, pipsqueak. you have 30 days. impress me, and maybe i’ll let you off the hook. but if you snitch on me, or if i still don’t like you by the end of the month, i’ll snap your neck.”

“so you’re giving me a chance? thank you so much! i won’t let you down.” the boy cheered.

you sighed. “you better not.”

it’s gonna be a long month.

[volleychumps]

HEY, HEY, HEY!! I love your Haikyuu fics, so I was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader is an absolute simp for the boys and shows her lovesickness no matter what, she'd have nosebleeds, compliments them every single time, has literal albums and photos of them everywhere on their phone or at home, she always treats them like kings, etc. The boys could be Bokuto, Akaashi Kuroo, Kenma, Kags, Tsuki, Miya Twins, Sakusa, Ushijima, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Yamaguchi, Tendou if possible

*you can choose from these if you can't write for them all, i dont mind :>

*you can also make them fem or g/n, whichever your comfortable with

- I suddenly remembered that i loved ur reader wears their jerseys fic, so i was wondering if you can make smth like that. But no pressure!! Have a great dayyy💗💗

When You're a Hardcore Simp (w/ Bokuto, Kageyama, Sakusa, and Iwaizumi) x Fem! Reader

HAHA WHAT UP GANG- wait sorry if this isn't as good as my usual stuff, let's see if I can ease back into it <3

warning(s): manga spoilers!!! In Bokuto and Sakusa's. Mention of slight blood in Bokuto's. (like a nosebleed)

Bokuto

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing. Since when were you a loser?”

You dab at the dark red liquid under your nose, a satisfied smile on your face as the owlish-haired man spikes a cross-spike across the court in an astonishing manner, the crowds of people in awe at the ace’s movements. Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, the black uniform stretched to fit his body handsomely with a confident tinge in his golden eyes. His arms-

You sigh dreamily, Kuroo Tetsurou rolling his eyes from next to you as Bokuto leaps in joy, slapping Hinata on the back and bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Jealousy is a disease, Tetsurou.” You don’t let the tall raven-haired boy damper your mood, wondering how you got so lucky as Bokuto drinks in the cheers from the audience. Kuroo rolls his eyes, reaching in his gym bag for a pack of tissues before offering you one as he leans on the railing. You accept it, taking your eyes off the love of your life momentarily to tilt your head upwards. 

“At least I don’t act like a perv in public.” Kuroo snips, eyeing you carefully as you glare at your long-term friend from high school. “Hey, are you okay? This isn’t normal, you know.”

“I’m good.” 

“You sure about that?” Kuroo nods at the court, and your eyes meet Bokuto’s golden irises all the way from where you’re standing near the upper-railing as a grin stretches across his handsome features, closing his eyes while waving in your direction with both of his arms in large gestures. Your eyes fill with adoration again, turning away quickly as the blood flow increases out of your nose.

“Nope! I take it back, my heart can’t handle this.” 

Kuroo scoffs, practically seeing hearts in your eyes as Bokuto wilts on the court as you turn your back to him. 

“Is Y/N avoiding me?” He frowns as Atsumu snickers, Sakusa shaking his head in slight disgust and disbelief at how unbelievably down bad you were. Atsumu points into the crowd with a smirk, Bokuto’s eyes lighting up at the sight of you leaning across the railing with your hands cupped to your mouth. 

“I LOVE YOU KOUTAROU!!!!” Your voice booms among the cheers of the audience, but Bokuto hears it so clearly. Kuroo is holding your waist back in annoyance at the attention you were getting from onlookers nearby, keeping you from falling off the railing. Bokuto’s eyes sparkle as he laughs at the dramatic kisses you were blowing in his direction. “YOU’RE SO HANDSOME-!” 

“I LOVE YOU MORE BABY!!!” He’s giddy, warmth evident in his features as his manager palms his face in absolute exhaustion. Hinata waves excitedly to both you and Kuroo as Sakusa and Atsumu raise a single hand in greeting. Talk about a PR disaster. 

Your cheers are loud in his ears as the Black Jackals take the final set, and Bokuto looks as handsome as ever with sweat trickling down his temple, his arms bulging with heavy use as he winks at you from up in the stands. You squeal when he motions to the passes around yours and Kuroo’s neck to come down for special access to the court. 

“I take it back.” Kuroo is annoyed and exhausted as you leap into the Ace’s arms with a squeal, Bokuto catching you by the thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle section in a passionate kiss, obviously unable to keep your hands off each other. 

“You’re both losers. Get a room before the press attacks.” 

Kageyama

“Stop wasting your money, Y/N.” Kageyama chastises you quietly, a box of white milk tapping the edge of his desk as your little school girl skirt takes the seat in front of him, an easy smile on your features as the tips of his ears burn a bright pink. 

“Waste?” You frown, tilting your head a little bit with your cheek in your palm. “Why is it a waste if my baby likes it?” 

Kageyama’s cheeks flare up next, obviously short-circuiting as you withhold a giggle, Hinata watching the exchange with a slight pout on his lips. 

“So cruel, Y/N-chan, you’re breaking our setter.” The orange-haired first year complains. “And you didn’t get me anything!”

“You know I’d never forget you, Sho.” You roll your eyes, a can of orange juice hitting the edge of Hinata’s desk yet as his eyes brighten tenfold, excitedly popping open the beverage as Kageyama embarrassedly distracts himself by sticking the straw into the box. You smile a little knowing grin as he refuses to meet your eyes, but it’s obvious it became less special to him when you got one for his idiot friend as well.

Casually, you reach a hand out to grab Kageyama’s hand as he internally combusts at the actions, holding a conversation with Hinata in the midst of it as you play with the tips of his fingers. 

Kageyama’s jaw slackens, the softness of your hands making his head spin in a good way before you make eye contact with him. You looked at him with so much love in your eyes, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

“Break time’s over! I’ll see you later, Sho.” You grin at your friend as Kageyama looks at you in expectation, and you try not to coo at the hopefulness in his blue irises before leaning down, kissing his cheek softly and so sweetly even Hinata has to look away with a blush. 

“I’ll see you later, Tobio.” You cup his cheeks afterwards, kissing the tip of his nose for good measure before beginning to bounce off with a giggle. “Have a good practice later, okay?” 

Tobio sits there for a second before a puff of smoke almost visibly comes out of his head, cheeks a deeper red than ever before. Hinata groans, calling after you as you skip your way out of his classroom. 

“This time I really think you broke him Y/N-chan!” 

Sakusa

“Yer’ so down bad it’s laughable.” Osamu quips, and you look at him in false offense, sporting Sakusa’s jersey number as well as his number written on your cheek in black paint. The black jackals cap sitting atop your head tilted slightly to the side, as if you have no idea what the hell he was talking about. 

“I don’t know why you would think that.” 

“Don’t piss me off.” 

You laugh, Osamu humming in content as he lazily watches his brother get blatantly rejected by your boyfriend in his attempt of a double high five as the game nears its close. You bite back a smile at the subtle, knowing glance he sends your way, stomach fluttering in anticipation of seeing Sakusa after his game.

“Ya look like a crazy fan that he should get a restraining order against.” Osamu continues, nudging your shoulders as you pout. 

“Do you think it’s embarrassing? Maybe Omi thinks it’s silly?” You question the shop-owner, beginning to smudge off the ink on your cheeks as your mood dips, Osamu blinking once before beginning to feel a little bad he made you insecure. Instead, he clicks his tongue, reaching out to help clean up the now smudged mess on your cheeks.

“If yer’ gonna wipe it off, at least get it off all the way.” 

“No!” You exclaim with puffed out cheeks, astonished he would even offer as you take an abrupt step back. “Only Omi can touch my face.” 

Osamu blinks at you again in disbelief, slightly impressed at the public display of your loyalties at 100% before getting annoyed again. “Oi. Don’t make me out to be some sort of-” 

“Good girl.” Your eyes light up as Sakusa taps a hand on your head, scowling at the inky mess on your cheeks before meeting Osamu with a deadpan stare. “What happened to my jersey number?” 

Osamu’s eyes flit between the two of you as Atsumu can’t help but burst out laughing from the court below, the cook coming to a slow realization as Sakusa turns your head to the side with a slight pinch in your cheeks with one hand, a sanitizing wipe doing just the trick as you meet his seemingly indifferent stare with a look of pure adoration. 

He’s just as whipped as you are. 

Sakusa finishes ridding your cheeks of ink before tugging you along, bringing his mask up over his face as you hum giddily, smile etched into your features when he stops outside the locker room with an outstretched hand. 

“It’s not embarrassing?” Your voice is quiet as you look up at him with a hopeful glint in your eyes, putting the black paint marker into his hand as Sakusa rolls his eyes. He writes #15 in elegant strokes on your clean skin, laser focused, capping the marker after in satisfaction. 

“No.” His response is simple as he tugs down his mask to place a quick kiss on your eyelid, a heat warming your cheeks as Sakusa hesitates for a second before placing one on your lips as well, sending your heart soaring wildly. 

He’s already walking ahead of you as you stare after him in slight bewilderment for a second, already bounding up next to him as you slip your hand into his. 

“Thought it was too public for you, Omi.” 

“That’s your prize for not letting Miya touch what’s mine.” 

Iwaizumi

“Y/N’s rizz is unmatched, as always.” 

Matsukawa grins into his canned coffee at lunch time, watching as you somehow manage to get Iwaizumi to smile a bit in the selfie you were taking, a flirtatious wink in your eye as your hand cups his cheek lovingly. Iwaizumi nods in quiet approval at the bento you had made for him, shooting you a small loving look he only reserves for you before tugging you into his lap casually. 

“I still don’t understand how Iwa pulled someone as adoring as Y/N.” Hanamaki whistles lowly, Oikawa nodding in agreement with a grin. 

“She’s such a simp.” 

“We’re sitting right here, what the hell.” You glare a little bit at the three of them as Iwa matches your action, Oikawa almost laughing at the uncharacteristic expression on your face you obviously adopted from your boyfriend. 

“I’m not a simp!” You proclaim as Iwaizumi arches an eyebrow amusedly, but doesn’t say anything. “You can’t prove it.” 

“Turn your phone around.” Hanamaki doesn’t miss a beat, finishing off his own bento as you wilt a little, showing the clear phone case littered with heart stickers and a single polaroid photo of Iwaizumi overlooking a strawberry patch. Iwaizumi looks away to hold back his expression, but the guys could tell from his eyes he was pretty happy.

“Most girls do this.” 

“Uh-huh.” Matsukawa’s next, smirk beginning to tickle the edge of his lips. “What do you have his name under in your phone?” 

“Iwa.” 

“Why are you lying for fun.” Oikawa plucks the phone out of your hand, ignoring your whine of protests before showing the group your blatant lie. “I’m pretty sure this says ‘Future Handsome (DILF) Husband’”.

“See, that was a typo.”  But your cheeks give your poor lie away anyways, upset at how Iwaizumi begins to hide his grin in your neck and hold you a little tighter in his lap. 

“Is this not a whole album dedicated to your relationship with him- how the absolute hell do you have 600 images of him? I only have one and it’s from fourth grade!” Oikawa’s rant of complaints is cut off by you snatching the phone out of his grasp, before pushing off of Iwaizumi’s lap to run out of the room in embarrassment. Iwaizumi’s mood darkens, turning to his friends as Oikawa freezes up with a nervous grin on his face.

“Too far?” 

“You three are apologizing to her later.” Iwaizumi doesn’t leave room for comments, his tone changing drastically into a shy mutter as he stalks out of the classroom to go find you. 

“Even if she is a bit of a simp.” 

“You say that like you didn’t spend a year and half liking her, Iwa-chan!”

[justaaveragereader]

Slashtober🔪||OT8

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: MeanDom!Ateez, Sub!Reader, Name Calling, Gang Bang, Ass Fucking, Unprotected Sex (Please Dont😀), Spanking, Spit, Tit Smacking, Breast Play, Bukkake, Dacryphilia, Oral, Cum Eating, Rough Sex, Degradation, CNC, Choking, Marking, If I Missed Anything🫣👀Lemme Know..

A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this done before 12am😵‍💫, I tried my best to get this done before midnight, bc I wanted to make sure I posted it on Halloween. I can’t believe it’s officially over now, thank you to everyone who supported me. Rather it was with a like, reblog, a comment, an ask, anything tbh. I received so much love this October and I’m grateful and appreciate to every single one of you😭💙. Also special thanks to @seonghwasbobaeyes for betaing the first half of this fic, you are muchly appreciated babes😚! This isn’t the end of the road for Slasher!Ateez👀, we will DEFINITELY be seeing them again! I’m already thinking about what I’m going to write for November tbh..😚. My asks will be opening due to October being over, so send in your requests!

Kinktober Masterlist

Ever since your last visit with the two masked men, you had been itching, yearning for more. They left you with an undying last in your mouth. You craved them, how sinners crave sin. They were addicting, they were like a forbidden fruit.

You hadn’t heard a peep or even seen a peep of them in weeks. You had been on the lookout constantly, trying to find any trace of them. It's like your neighbors knew you were on the fence. Making sure to greet you everyday, going out of their way to make sure you were happy. They so easily picked up your emotions. It's like you bonded with every single one of them. Wanting to get into better spirits you decided to throw a small Halloween party inviting the guys from the neighborhood as a way to say thanks for all they do, and thanks for being there for you.

You were at home prepping the food when suddenly the lights went out in your home. Letting out an annoyed huff you make your way to your circuit breaker box. Walking past your bedroom you notice a figure in your room, hiding behind the wall, you try to steady your breath clearly worked up and scared by what you saw, you quietly try to creep down the hall when your lights cut back on. Wanting to see if it was your eyes playing tricks on you, or if there was someone actually in your home you slowly make your way to the bedroom. As soon as you cut the corner to your room you see one of the masked men in your bedroom, sitting on your bed, man spreading widely. Energy as heavy as stone, he sat like he owned not only your hole, he sat like he owned you, and every move you made. Getting up slowly, he walks towards you, slow long strides.

Putting his hands up on the frame of the door. His muscular body takes up the whole door frame.

“And where are you running off to, pretty girl?”

Your eyes grow big, backing away slowly, your back bumps into a hard frame behind you. Looking up you see Mingi towering over you, staring down at your helpless frame.

“Don’t you look cute in your pajamas.” Mingi says with a large smirk on his face, running his fingers over the lace trim on the bottom of your sleep shorts. Jongho walks over to you, peeling his body off of the door frame. His large frame crushes you between him and Mingi. You can barely see his eyes through the mask, yet you can feel the intensity radiating from the person beneath it.

“Wh-what’s going on…” you whisper out through a shaky breath. Gripping your hips Mingi pulls your ass against him, grinding his hard on, onto you. Jongho moves closer, his chest completely crushing you. Gripping the front of your pajama shorts he plays with the lace on them, letting his hand slowly fall to the front of them, gradually untying the ribbon that keeps them up. Loosening the shorts, they fall dangerously low on your hips.

“What do you think is going on darling?” Seonghwa says, smooth voice floating out beneath his mask, making his way into your bedroom room. He seats himself on the bed. Man spreading his legs wide open, your eyes drift over the female plastic mask he’s wearing, down to the bricked cock beneath his skin tight pants. When Jongho squishes your body even further in between him and Mingi.

“I-I don’t kn-.” Your sentence gets cut off when the other two masked men enter, the largest one of the group takes up the whole door frame, while the shorter broader one stands in front of him. With his head cocked to the side. A shiver runs up your spine. Your brain can barely process what’s going on in front of you. All you want to do is flee but it feels like your feet are cemented to the ground.

“Look at her.” Yunho says, stepping forward into the room, clearing his large stature out of the door frame. San lets out a loud chuckle, making his way towards you.

“She looks like a deer caught in headlights.” San says through a laugh, walking on the other side of you while Yunho goes on the opposite. Caging your body in by all four men, while Seonghwa sits on the small bed watching you.

“I know you guys aren’t starting the game without us.” Wooyoung whines out, walking into the room, face paint smeared across his face yet with the lack of the red lights you can see clear as day that it’s Wooyoung. Trying to strain your neck between the men who are caging you in.

“Wooyoung, what’s going on?” You whisper shout, as if the men couldn’t hear you in the same confined room. Letting out a loud laugh, he walked over, looking at your poor helpless frame. Your body does a noticeable shiver.

“Do you want me to save you?” He says through a fake coo. Yeosang stands in the doorway, leaning his muscular form against it. Looking at you behind his mask he makes his way slowly over. Pushing through the cage the boys have you in.

“No…I think she wants all of us to help her out.” He says while he runs his gloved hand up your body. Starting from your chest, running it between your breasts, settling his covered hand around your throat. It's like deja vu, you start getting various flashbacks of each time one of these men have rearranged your guts, and practically broke your spine.

“Do you need saving darling?” Seonghwa says, standing up off the bed, making his way towards you with long slow strides, the men who caged your body slowly back away, making room for Seonghwa. His tall frame easily towers over yours. Soaking you in from head to toe.

“Of course not Seonghwa she doesn’t need saving, she needs to be fucked like the slut she is.” Hongjoong says, gripping your throat pulling your body against his invisible one. Manhandling you with ease, you swear you can see every person in the room, eyes darken instantaneously.

“Is that what it is dear? You need us to bend you over and rearrange your guts?” Seonghwa says, gripping your chin lightly while Hongjoongs hand continues to hold you tightly. Letting out a small whimper your eyes dart around to every man surrounding you in this room. Your lower belly grows hot with need. Hot with want, hot with flashbacks of every orgasm you’ve had with the individuals in this room. You open your mouth, just to close it once more, not exactly sure what words you are trying to speak. But you can tell by the way they are crowding you, and the way you are drinking them all in. You want nothing more than for them to break you.

~

Wrapping your hand around Yeosangs cock, you continue to pump his dick up and down. Fist tight to make sure he gets as much pleasure as possible. Gripping your chin in his hand, San turns your face towards him, cock deep down your throat, with his other hand on the back of your head, you gag with every powerful thrust he delivers to your throat. Eyes watering with unshed tears. San lets out a loud laugh, gripping the back of your head even tighter. Slamming his hips into your mouth..

“Look at this slut crying. Go on baby, cry on my cock.” San grits out, the pleasure that your warm mouth is giving him is becoming too much. Hongjoong lines himself up with your entrance, not even giving you time to prep, he slams his cock deep into your cunt. Body driving forward your nose bumps against Sans pelvic area. Letting out a loud sadistic laugh, he starts out at a rough pace, jack hammering your body forward. Causing a quick rhythm between him and San. Your hand starts to fall slack around Yeosangs cock. Gripping your head, Yeosang turns your face towards him.

“Do it right slut.” He grits out, squeezing your cheeks so tightly that he can feel Sans cock slide in and out of your mouth.

“Stretch her out.” Seonghwa says, the heaviest presence in the room. He stands up, hard cock in his hand, he slides under you. Your breast jiggling in his face, gripping your left breast, he runs his long cool tongue over your nipple. You squeeze your eyes shut, too immersed in the pleasure.

Mingi makes his way behind Hongjoong who is hammering away at you, collecting the drool that is hitting the floor from the way San is making you choke and gag on his cock. He wets his fingers, sliding them down to your puckered hole, you let out a moan so loud that all the boys can hear you. Sliding one finger in, your eyes grow huge, tears starting to run down your face by all the pleasure you are feeling.

Gripping your face harshly San gathers all the spit in his mouth, letting it slowly drop down to his cock, hitting your lips, it aids in the drool on the floor. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of him. You can taste him in more ways than one, and it has your head clouded with nothing but hot lust.

“Such a whore who loves to be degraded.” San grits out, watching you suck him down your throat.

“Look at her crying again.” Yeosang says while your grip tightens and untightens on his cock. Mocking you through a fake coo. Letting his hand travel down, he grips the breast Seonghwa isn’t paying attention to, squeezing your nipple, just as he’s squeezing Mingi slips his second finger in your ass trying to stretch you out as much as possible. Tears are running down your face rapidly, your pussy clenches on Hongjoong, letting out a loud groan. He slams his hips up into you once more before pulling out, chest heaving up and down. Holding his orgasm back, wanting to save it to paint your body.

Wooyoung lets out a small laugh, clearly enjoying the view of you getting rag dolled all over the place, sliding into the place of Hongjoong, he taps his cock against your wet cunt, sliding his cock in between your wet pussy lips, making sure with every thrust up he nudges your clit. Pulling back San bites his lip, gripping your head even tighter trying to fight the urge to cum all over your face, he slides back letting Yunho in. Letting out a choked cough, you intake as much air as possible. Trying to catch your breath before Yunhos large frame towers over your small body.

“Look at this slut..” he says while hooking your bottom jaw with his thumb. Jongho stands behind Yunho, getting an eye full of you, tilting his head to the side almost like he’s studying you.

“Wanting to take us all..” Jongho says, continuing Yunhos sentence.

“She wants us in every way…” Mingi finishes after Jongho speaks.

Moving on the side of your body, Mingi pulls his fingers out, feeling like you’ve been stretched enough, he lets Seonghwa know that you are prepped and ready for whatever he is ready to give you. Sliding out from under you, Wooyoung and Seonghwa trade spots. With his wet fingers Mingi slowly strokes his cock while Seonghwa slides in between your wet cunt. Making sure that he soaks his cock with your juices that are practically pouring down, he lines himself up with your puckered hole. Sliding in slowly, inch my inch. Your eyes scrunch shut, the feeling of him sliding in your ass is unlike any other feeling you’ve ever felt. You grip Yunhos thighs for stability, just as you are about to let out the loudest moan, Yunho slides his cock into your mouth, instantly stuffing it. Wooyoung lines himself up with your sopping cunt that is dripping down onto his cock, your arousal just leaking all over him. Yeosang and Jongho stand on opposite sides of you, large bodies towering over your frame. Bunching your eyes shut, Wooyoung slides easily into your pussy. Shooting your eyes open you let out a loud, muffled moan. Placing your hands out, trying your best to find your balance while Seonghwa is fucking your ass, Wooyoung is deep in your cunt, while Yunhos large cock is deep down your throat.

Gripping Yeosangs and Jonghos cock in your hand, you slowly start to pump them, making sure to pay extra attention to the head of their cocks. With each stroke the members are giving you, you are seeing heaven behind your eyes, Seonghwa continuously slaps your ass cheeks while he strokes deep in your puckered hole, watching your ass cheek welt with each deep stroke he delivers to you. Wooyoungs balls are dripping with your arousal, inner thighs shining with your juices. While Yunho grips the sides of your face, making sure you take his cock as far as your small throat will let him.

San, Mingi, and Hongjoongs degradation fill your ears. Making you on the brink of the most powerful orgasm.

“Look at this hungry cock slut.” Hongjoong says, slowly stroking his cock, watching everyone have their turn with you.

“Look at her crying over how good all of our cocks are…” Mingi grits out, grabbing his balls while he beats his cock. Making sure to collect the drool that leaves your mouth on his hands so he can stroke himself with ease.

“Nothing but a cock sleeve for all of us.” San says with his head tilted back, stroking himself, matching the rhythm at which they all are fucking you.

Mingi makes his way over to Seonghwa, watching the way his cock slides in and out of your ass. Gripping one cheek so it’s easier for Seonghwa to get a feel of your warm wet hole. He gathers the spit in his mouth letting it drop onto your puckered hole. The cool sensation differs from the warmth of Seonghwas length sliding in and out of you. Hongjoong lets out a small chuckle at the way you whine every time someone spits on you, he makes his way towards Yunho, holding the sides of your throat, giving it a slight squeeze your breathing stutters, with his hands tightening around you throat he can feel Yunho slide in and out, the feeling is delicious, the lack of oxygen heats your body up.

Wooyoung reaches up, squeezing one of your tits in his hand while he strokes his cock in and out of your warm walls. Giving your nipple a pinch, you let out a muffled whine. Reeling his hand back he slaps your tit, the sudden feeling of the impact causes your jaw to drop, eyes fluttering in immense pleasure. He lets out a high pitched laugh, slapping your other tit, you feel the skin of your breast heat up with each heavy slap. The warmth that spreads through your body, has your toes clenching, you feel your orgasm charging its way through your body. Before you can get yours, Seonghwa is going to make sure all of them get theirs.

“You know what she’s only good for..” Seonghwa spits out through clenched teeth, pulling back swiftly, Wooyoung, and Yunho pull back as well. Urging you to sit on your knees with your mouth open. The members gather around you, stroking their cocks rapidly. With a loud groan, all of them cum almost in sync. Opening your mouth last minute you have drool running down your chest, with your tongue sticking out, trying to catch as much of their cum on your tongue as you can.

“This whore is only good for catching cum.” Seonghwa pants out. As they watch their cum drip down your body, it pools right between your legs, creating a small puddle. Letting out a low growl, Seonghwa moves forward first. Gripping the back of your throat he shoves you face down into the floor.

Running his hands down your back, he hikes your hips up into the air, your sticky chest comes in contact with the floor, creating a tacky feeling on your skin.

Cock already brick hard again, he taps it against your puckered hole, slipping in with ease once again. You let out a loud cry, throat sore from all the throat fucking you still let out loud moans with each buck of Seonghwas hips. Making his way over swiftly Mingi grabs your shoulders, lifting you up so your back is flush against Seonghwas chest, he lays down cock standing straight up, maneuvering you Mingi brings you down on his cock with the aid of Seonghwa. Letting out a loud cry once more your body falls forward, becoming chest to chest with Mingi. Gripping your neck Seonghwa pulls you back up, fingers tightly wrapping around your throat, destined to leave marks.

Wooyoung and Yeosang stand on opposite sides of your body, gripping your breast, before giving your chest a firm slap. Your body jolts forward, yet with Seonghwas tight grip on your throat you go nowhere. All the other members make their way towards you with their heavy, cum dripping cocks in their hands.

“You are going to be a good girl, and take all of our cum.” Seonghwa grunts into your ear before hiking his hips forward, biting your lip, you nod your head. Chest heaving with want. Mingi lets out a deep groan..

“Fuckkkkk…she’s dripping down my cock. Are you going to make a mess on our cocks, princess?” Adjusting his hips slightly, Mingi hikes his hips up into yours. Gripping your ass cheeks so you are spread even further for Seonghwa. The members step closer to you both.

“You are going to swallow all of their cum, then you are going to take our cum in this tight ass, and wet cunt of yours.” Seonghwa says knowingly, letting out a loud whimper by the authority in Seonghwas voice you nod as much as you can with his fingers still tightly wrapped around your throat.

Giving your ass a hard slap, Mingi jiggles the cheeks of your ass.

“Alright princess, who do you want to swallow first?”

Taglist: @araknoid @atinytinaa @k-hotchoisan @darkdayelixer @abby-grace @aurorasjoongie @tunaasan @jkookiejiminlvr @luckyblue98 @notevenheretbh1 @moonlightsora @raindropsondragons @park-simphwa @ro-written @hwajoongsang @certifiedmoa @pearltinyy @minniebinnie @solarstoy @frobin4ever @gvnwks @ethelia @jin-neck-shaft @nitarolls @jenthehobbityelf @gg-trini @tearfulsparks78 @10nantscompanion @moonm1st @oreoqueen @leehopehocarat @scuzmunkie @bangtan4everr @acetruepunk @s-unflowxr @rxnexxi @tenpesos @mixling-blog @helsnik @mrspettersen @mixtape-racha @realviviboss @mikaelless @queenoftrash97 @boomfrogg

Dividers and GIF @justaaveragereader

DO NOT REPOST.

[jweekgoji]

Hiiiii, I really love your Yan! Sentinel x Prime!Reader, also your SentinelxReaderxStarscream are the best as well! I am a huge fan of both works and both characters, your writings are so *chef kiss* Can I request a somewhat mix of both please? Maybe the Prime!Reader are close with Starscream and it makes Sentinel angry/jealous? Obviously you don't have to, but if you do write for it please take your time :3

Prime!Reader/Starscream/Sentinel

tw: jealousy, rivalry (between Starscream&Sentinel), gender neutral reader. word count: ~1270 a/n: good to know you enjoyed my other fics~ sorry for making you wait too long! the last weeks are exhausting ~_~

Being one of the 13 Primes is no simple task when you have to stand between two fires.

The incoming attack from the Quintessons didn't give you a single cycle of peace either. Over and over again, you've had to brainstorm a new plan with your brothers and sisters on how to push the enemy away from Cybertron. It's exhausting.

At times, you long to lock yourself away in your own chambers, switch off your audio receptors to finally get a break from it all. But luck never seems to be on your side. Every new day started with a new problem, and for some reason, you only had to hear about it from two bots you knew.

Starscream and Sentinel.

Your day could start with an early call from Starscream, where your subordinate, though not literally, hinted at having him accompany you at all times. His presence is absolutely required!

Well that's just Prime.

But when you hear a knock on your door, you don't have to guess twice to find out who it could be. When you finally open the door, standing before you is none other than your faithful servant, Sentinel.

“You look as beautiful as ever,”  Sentinel smiles as he looks in your optics. “And your armour is so wonderfully polished, as I can see.”

Starting your afternoon meeting with compliments was something he was used to, even if his attempts to charm you with his speeches never worked. You are many cycles older than him, Sentinel's behaviour only amuses you at best.

“Zeta Prime would like to discuss something with you, let me escort you to him,” he holds his servos behind his back, taking a couple of steps back from the doorway.

“Zeta wants to see me?” you have a momentary thought. In the current time, that means another long meeting, hours of planning and working out...You nod.

“After you,” he humbly motions for you to go through first, his bright blue optics just drilling your own.

As you walk through the long corridors of the tower, the loud clacking of heels comes from somewhere behind you.

“There you are! I've been waiting for you for like practically half an hour now! Where were you all the time...’ Starscream says in annoyance, his wings twitching faintly as the high guard notices...him.

For a moment, a spark of competition runs between your two subjects. Fortunately, or not for them, it never caught your attention, though perhaps you simply preferred to turn a blind eye to it. You have too many responsibilities right now to waste time on those two.

Sentinel still holds that casual pose, helmet tilted slightly, as if the mere sight of the enraged flyer gives him some kind of enjoyment. It doesn't even help that he's standing behind you, you can't even see that nasty grin on Sentinel's face! Oh, how that slimy, hypocritical glitch is annoying-.

“Not now, Starscream. I'll deal with this later. Wait for me here,’ you calmly respond, then turn around and disappear behind the doors of the hall, where the rest of the Primes are already waiting.

The door slams shut, leaving the high guard and the advisor alone. Starscream frowns, his red optics aimed at Sentinel, who looks equally displeased.

Even though Sentinel was lucky enough to see you first today, the advisor had to come up with all sorts of excuses for you to pay the slightest bit of attention to him. He's occasionally lucky because you prefer Starscream's company to his own! Or so he thinks at first. As one of the Primes, you spend a lot of time on the battlefield, which makes you more often accompanied by Starscream.

Sentinel hates that. Most of the Primes, even Zeta himself calls on him far more often than you do! He's YOUR advisor, how can you care more about some guard?

Knowing Sentinel, if you were even with him for almost all of your time, any side glance would make him extremely jealous.

“You're doing this on purpose. Wasting their time on something that isn't helpful in the war,” Starscream crosses his arms over his chassis, not even hiding his displeasure.

“Me? I would never ,” the Sentinel makes an indignant look that is painfully unserious. “I'm just a mere asvisor to them, helping out with a word here and there. Are you afraid of getting screwed, perhaps?’

“To whom, you? Don't be ridiculous,” Starscream rolls his optics, then steps closer to the Sentinel. “They hardly notice you.”

“You want to bet, Screamer?”

“Bet.”

You don't know how long it's been since you left them alone, but by the time you arrive, Starscream and Sentinel are there, waiting for you. Not a hint of hostility between them, which is surprising. Whatever had happened there during your absence, they had found another target.

After that day, you completely forgot about such a concept as “peacefulness”. Every day, personal space was violated by one of them. If Starscream insisted on accompanying your every move, Sentinel would surely find another reason to distract and then steal you away from poor jet.

It went on like this time after time until you decided to end this madness once and for all.

When Sentinel unexpectedly received your message, he was hardly strong enough not to give the slightest sign of how extremely pleased he was. You, waiting for HIM, in your chambers? Oh, how much that could mean....

How surprised he was to see none other than Starscream at the door- Oh, lovely. Just when he's fantasising about nice things, you find a chance to ruin his dreams.

Had you left them alone for a split second, another fight would surely have broken out, but luckily neither of them have time to utter a word before you suddenly open the door.

“Come in.”

Starscream and Sentinel throw each other a quick fleeting glance, but not another word and they enter your room. It's large, rich, in your style. They've rarely had the chance to be here, even for a moment.

You stand beside your desk, seated in the centre of the room. You can recall many nights spent at it, searching for solutions to Cybertron's problems. Your gaze is neutral, though inside you are far from calm.

“May I ask the reason why you decided to call me and...’’ Sentinel pauses briefly before looking at his colleague again. Starscream gives him the same look, as if daring him to make yet another annoying comment.

“Your behaviour,” you begin first again, closing your optics for a moment, trying to remain calm.

“It's all Sentinel's fault,” Starscream blurts out sharply, pointing at the blue-and-gold fur.

“Of course— stop. What?!” Sentinel exclaims, now it's his turn to be outraged.

“Incompetent, arrogant toady, he should have been removed from his position a long time ago, ” Starscream continues to recount, which can't help but cause Sentinel's optic to twitch.

“I'm talking about the both of you.”

Well, that certainly got their attention. And thankfully, so did shutting up.

No matter how tempting the idea of removing the two of them from their positions and sending them away, you can't raise your hand and dismiss them. How lucky you are that one of your brothers, while drinking high grade energon, blabbed to you about everything and gave you some wonderful idea.

“Whoever completes as many of my errands as possible during the week will receive a special reward from me.”

You pause again for a moment, watching their reactions. Both of your best subordinates look startled, but, extremely interested. For that reason, you continue.

“I expect excellent results. Don't disappoint.”

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

So wooo it's been a while since I stepped foot in here, started posting around May (and then took down the first fic because I didn't like it) and I'm really glad I did because writing is the one thing that has really resonated with me my whole life. 

I reached 200 followers at the beginning of November and now I'm 6 from 300, which, again, is crazy! And I have a tag list now, it's unbelievable. Thank you so much to each one of you, I love you.

So I definitely want to give something back to this amazing community.

Starting today I'm going to try to do a monthly post dedicated to all the amazing stories I've read. 

This month will be a list of all the works that have stuck with me since I have been here, unfortunately I will never remember them all because my memory sucks, but I hope I have included most of them.

I am so looking forward to discovering many more authors (my tbr list is so long, so many fics so little time, I really hope to read more over the Christmas holidays) in the coming months and I hope to grow this little space more and more into something safe, friendly and nice for everyone.

(Feel free to add me on discord if you like and you haven't already, I'm always happy to chat and make friends, you can find it in my bio).

Anyway, let's cut to the chase, it's a long list of outstanding work below the cut: 

• The Wolf You Feed - @arcanefox207 Joel Miller x f!reader

Look, I'm so in love with her Joel. He’s hot, he's grumpy but also comforting, he plays guitar, he feels true to character. So precious.

• BDSMaid - @mountainsandmayhem

Basically, my Roman Empire. Everything about this is so damn good and this Joel? Hello? Please marry me? I will never stop screaming about him. Also, yes, it’s an AU but he feels so Joel, you know.

• Do your worst, Little Dove from Little Dove series - @mountainsandmayhem Joel Miller x f!reader

This changed my entire brain, okay. Probably the hottest thing I've ever read and if you're into sub!Joel this is something you should read immediately.

• Never made it as a wise man and following chapters - @almostempty Joel Miller x f!reader

Never laughed so hard for a fic and honestly, after this I learned that Wed could write whatever and I'll worship that.

• He knows - @almostempty

Lucien x f!reader

The way it’s written it’s out of this world, I loved it so much♥️

• Self esteem series - @almostempty

She managed to make me fall in love with fuckboy!Joel, which is remarkable because there’s nothing I hate more in this world than fuckboys, like I despise them with all my heart but I’m still here wanting to kneel in front of him. Damn, Wed, stop doing this to me. (Jk)

• Paris, Texas - @almostempty

Joel Miller x f!reader x Javier Peña

*laugh hysterically* I want to live in this fic. I want to be reader. No, actually I want to be the fourth.

• Unscripted desires - @gothcsz Javier Peña x f!reader

The way Kat writes Javi is something unique, I don't even know how she managed to write so much about him doing a fucking banger every single time. This one was probably the first thing I read written by Kat and I'm not going to forget my first love anytime soon.

• Blackmail - @milla-frenchy Joel Miller x f!reader x Javier Peña

I read this series in one day and I was so needy when I finished, jeez! Milla is so damn good and she’s an absolute queen at writing dirty talk, it's honestly unbelievable the way she delivers every single time and leave me speechless.

• Her - from 5 days collection - @milla-frenchy Joel Miller x f!reader

It’s so dear to my heart (odd to say this about a pegging fic? Probably, but I still stand by what I just said). It was so good that inspired me to write a pegging fic myself and she was so kind about it 🥹 And she was probably the first person engaging with me here and I’m so fucking grateful that she did. Milla, if I have people reading me it’s because you reblogged me and gave me a chance in the first place, I will never forget this.

• Table for Three - Who's your daddy - @aurorawritestoescape Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York

I read those in my early days here and wow Kate definitely sets a bar in terms of hotness for me. So good. And she’s another person that I cherish so much, thanks for being so supportive and encouraging.

• Keep on your mean side - @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy Joel Miller x f!reader

These two are dead dove queens and this one is simply amazing 10/10 no notes.

• Cherry, Cherry - @baronessvonglitter Joel Miller x f!reader

You have to know something about Adriana, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, just a beautiful soul. I’m still in awe of how she managed to write this series with so many characters and such a rich plot, it’s so sweet and comforting but also angsty and so good, I teared up a little bit at the end 🥲

• Daddy can fix it - @baronessvonglitter Joel Miller x f!reader

Handyman Joel lives in my mind rent free and the fact that this one feature a plus size!reader is the cherry on top ♥️ All bodies are beautiful and should be considered worthy of Joel’s love.

• Like a good girl should - @baronessvonglitter Joel Miller x f!reader

WELL. I mean. This one gave me an inexhaustible desire to be spanked sooo yeah. So hot.

• Flesh for fantasy - @syd-djarin Joel Miller x f!reader

I thought about that for days after reading it and it’s still one of my fav things ever, like my brain just exploded, I remember having a conversation with @almostempty about this. The fuck Syd, you just broke my mind.

• Pink - @netherfeildren

Joel Miller x f!reader

One of the first thing ever that I read in this fandom and honestly sets a bar so high I was afraid to start writing anything. The urge, the need that drips from every word, the way the shaving scene is still stuck in my brain. Wow. Just wow.

• Touch Tank - @thundermartini

Javier Peña x f!reader

So beautifully written and soft!Javi made my heart melt ♥️

• Spiaggia, amore e limone - @thundermartini

Javier Peña x f!reader

It sets in Italy, of course I am the biggest fan of this. And not only that, Javi is so cute, smut is so hot, everything in this fic feels like a warm hug.

• Trēs series - @whocaresstillthelouvre

Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucius Verus

This is the first time I've ever popped into an author's notes and I'm so fucking proud 🤣 Thank you Mallory, you made my day, my week and my whole month 🥹

Plus, this is so good, think about your fav indulging dessert… it’s this series.

• Fifteen - @whocaresstillthelouvre

Din Djarin x f!reader

So comforting and endearing, I love it so much. Like, she made me read Din. I rarely read Din, enough said.

• Do I move you? - @lemon-nomel

Joel Miller x f!reader

I’m so damn proud of her for finding the courage to finally publish this and I’m also honored that she sent me her draft to read 🥹 She’s the sweetest person ever and stood by my side all these months through hard and happy times. Thank you love, for everything and your writing is amazing♥️

• ma’am - @mssalo

Joel Miller x f!reader

Another sub!Joel I won’t forget anytime soon, wow, so damn beautiful, so hot, perfectly executed. I’m so weak for sub!Joel it’s honestly ridiculous.

• So Cal to North Cal - @lotusbxtch

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

It features two of my fav Pedro boys and it’s honestly so good. Would love to take a trip with them and not only that.

• Guilty pleasure - @for-a-longlongtime

Joel Miller x f!reader

Typical DBF!Joel? No, it’s not! And I loved that, no spoiler but my jaw literally dropped to the floor lol

• To Dig a Grave - @softpascalito

Joel Miller x f!reader

I love this series so much, angsty and sad but also comforting in so many ways.

• Wherever you stray, I’ll follow - @cavillscurls

Joel Miller x f!reader

I think this was my first omegaverse fic and it was incredible, so beautifully written.

• Big fat tally - @toxicanonymity

Joel Miller x f!reader

I will probably never forget Joel in a harness, it’s carved in my brain, thanks Toxi for providing this delicious image to me.

• In the woods - @tonysopranosrobe

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Santiago Garcia x Benny Miller

First sex pollen fic I read and I loved it so much. So desperate, so good.

• How do you sleep? - @thriftedtchotchkes

Joel Miller x f!reader

Honestly so good. Wow.

• each man mad’s desire - @pascalispretty

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

This is so beautiful, it’s like a poem, I still have no words.

• The Real Deal - @strang3lov3

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Oh this one was so damn good, please, this Frankie is perfect. I still yearn to have him.

• Bedridden - @strang3lov3

Joel Miller x f!reader

I’m still laughing, it’s so damn good, well written, funny, sick Joel is unbearable but still the hottest ever.

• Doctor’s pet - @evolnoomym

Dave York x f!reader

Oh this one. I mean I’m a secretary in a clinic, it’s clear I need to work for Doctor Dave.

• Ptolemaea - @lovely-vamp-princess

Joel Miller x f!reader

She just started this and it already feels so original to me, like something I never read before and I’m so curious to see how it unfolds.

• Smooth operator - @penascigarette

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel calls a sex line and OMG. They’re softer than I thought, so good and funny. Lovely, just lovely.

Happy reading ♥️

[thehistoriccemetery]

Bg3 Companions respond to: “I’m safe with you, right? You’re not gonna let anyone hurt me?”

Some comfort from our ladies: Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara (sorry to my fellow Jaheira lovers she didn’t make it into this one.)

Also I’m starting to write more full length fics so if anyone has a particular thing I’ve written they’d like to see more on, let me know!

You’re a strong leader and warrior, and you know that. But sometimes the past comes up stronger than you can handle and you think of all the times you needed a protector of your own. In the moonlight, you ask your companions for a bit of reassurance.

Shadowheart

“Of course,” She adjusts your position so she is looking you in the eyes. “Why? Is something the matter? Are you in danger?” Her face is full of worry and concern.

“No, it’s…” you trail off, unsure of how to explain the aching vulnerability in your chest. “Never mind, it was a stupid thing to say.”

You avoid her gaze, feeling a bit foolish for asking such a question. You try to tuck your head back against her chest, but before you can, she takes your face in her hands.

“I’m sorry no one protected you. I’m sorry they let you get hurt before you could stop it. You deserved so much better, but I’m here now. I will protect you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and she gently wipes them away with her thumb as they trail down your cheeks. You are so thankful for the miraculous way she can always say exactly what you need to hear.

“The gods really did bless me when they brought me you,” you said, swiping your own tears out of your eyes. “It’s hard to remember when we’ve gone through so much, but I’m so blessed to have you.”

Shadowheart pulls you back to her chest, letting you cry while she gently strokes your hair. If there is one thing she will not let go from her time with Shar, it is the importance of feeling the pain.

You will move through it and she will move through it with you, no matter how long it takes.

She looks up to the moon and says a silent prayer to her new lady. “Guide them through this grief with your light.”

Lae’zel

Lae’zel is terribly confused as soon as the words leave your mouth. You didn’t know she could raise a single eyebrow like that.

“Why would you need my protection?” She asks. “You are a fierce warrior. You are safe with you.”

You smile. It’s not exactly what you were looking for, but the sentiment is there.

“Are you injured? Feeling ill, perhaps? In this case, you have my sword until you heal. I may even be able find that sorry excuse for a cleric around here somewhere…” she rambles until you place a hand on her shoulder.

You explain that you are not physically wounded, and she need not worry. It’s the inside that feels a little broken right now, in your head.

When she pushes a blade to your throat you quickly clarify that it is NOT in a ceremorphosis kind of way.

She retracts the blade, grateful she does not have to kill you, but still confused. It’s not that she’s never experienced what you’re feeling before, but the act of asking for or receiving comfort is unfamiliar to her.

She still wants to help though, so you guide her to sit cross legged on the ground and you place your head in her lap.

You can’t help but giggle as she stares down at you with that confused look on her face. “This is helping?”

“Can you stroke my hair?” You ask, not having grown accustomed to the awkwardness of such direct words yet.

She places her hand in your hair, carefully stroking the top of your head.

It clearly doesn’t come natural to her, but her willingness to try answers all of your questions. No one is ever gonna hurt you again.

Karlach

Karlach pulls you to lay on her chest and wraps her arms around you tight. “You are always safe with me, ‘kay? Always. Not a soul will hurt you. Ever. Again.”

She knows of your past, the pain you carry, the people you’ve lost, how they haunt you. Even before she could hold you she’s been there, beside you for everything.

“We protect each other, remember? You’ve got my back and I’ve got yours.” She asks. You nod into her chest.

You recall all the times you’ve done the same for her. You know the far away look in her eyes, when she is forced to relive her hell terrors once more. Ever since the night Dammon fixed her engine you vowed she’d never wake up from a nightmare anywhere but your arms.

“And what a hell of a team we make,” you chuckle. “Remember that time you ripped that bugbear’s fucking arm off after he nicked me with his mace?” You laugh, lightening the mood with a memory.

Karlach laughed as well. “And it was while I was still burning hot as the hells so the fucker’s fur lit up like a torch.” She was laughing so hard she could hardly finish the sentence.

“And he took out a good chunk of goblins when he went a runnin’,” you rolled off of her, swinging your arms above your head and doing your best bugbear-on-fire impression.

The two of spent the rest of the evening roaring with laughter about your favorite memories and stories. Only stopping when Karlach’s eyes began to feel heavy and the laughter turned into yawns.

“If I have to fight every demon in hell, then I’ll run out of blood to bleed before I lose you.”* You whisper before kissing her forehead and snuggling back up to drift off to sleep.

*(lyric from Penelope Scott’s “Over the Moon”)

Minthara

A look of disgust flashed across her face. Such a blatant display of vulnerability was unfamiliar to her and not befitting.

But when she looked at you, she softened ever so slightly. It was as if she was looking at you how you were when it all happened. She was looking at a hurt child.

Unfortunately for you, vulnerability wasn’t befitting of child in her eyes either.

“Do not ask such foolish questions,” She says passively. “You have not been threatened, have you?”

You shake your head sheepishly. “No, I was just feeling… I don’t know… weak, I guess.”

Minthara drops whatever she was working on before and approaches you, adjusting your body and posture from the droopy form that walked into her tent.

When she has you standing tall with your chest puffed out she scrunches her face into a look even more stern and scary, then motions for you to do the same.

Once you’re in position, she walks around you, admiring you in a slow circle. “Hmm…” she tuts, “you do not look weak. You look rather strong. Like you could lead six…” she pauses, looking for the right word, “hooligans around the better half of Faerûn.”

You can’t suppress the smile that grows on your face, and as she completes her circle, you can see she is smiling too.

But, just to be clear, she is currently committing atrocities on the last person to look at you funny. She would burn down the house of Baenre itself if it meant keeping you safe.

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[devilmademewriteit]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman (Let Me Hold You Like A Baby)

part 3 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you’re in his place. you’re in his bed. will joel ever be anything more than your dad’s friend who occasionally fucks his frustrations into you, or will you always be strangers?

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [m receiving] fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long hair; pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel); dubcon (power imbalance); age gap; dbf!joel; angst; mentions of murder and torture.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites loml forever

word count: 4.1k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click here to read part 1, Dark but Just a Game. 

Click here to read part 2, Pretty When You Cry. 

(neither are totally necessary if u just wanna read some filth, fluff, n angst, all u rly need to know is that they’ve fucked twice before & he’s dad’s best friend lol).

a/n: thank u for all the support on this series. i’m literally so obsessed with all of you it’s not even funny. enjoy this while we collectively grieve the end of the season, & i’ll be here writing fic in the meantime. Don’t forget to join the taglist for any and all upcoming work! -em <333333

—

It had taken all of ten seconds for you to lose your shirt, your jeans, and your most beloved pair of (now ruined) panties after stepping foot in Joel Miller’s apartment.

“‘Fuckin’ soaked already—been thinkin’ about me all day, huh?”

And those tantalizing fingers. They were third on the list of things you thought about when you touched yourself, right after his cock and the insatiable look that haunted his eyes when he was inside you. Joel’s talents were wasted as a smuggler—he’d have made a fantastic pianist or maybe a guitarist with the way that index and that damned thumb conspired to make you sing for him.

“Anyone else touch you here since me?“ “No, Joel—just you—only you.” “Attagirl.”

He’d gotten you fully naked (something he’d never bothered to do before) and writhing in his grip in a matter of seconds, laying rough kisses down your spine with patience and attention. Every single one was a spoken promise: I’m coming back for you.

“Look at you, baby, takin’ a real man all by yourself.”

Hands on your hips, knees pressed to the worn-in mattress—every other word in the English language omitted itself from your vocabulary as Joel drew his name from your lips over and over and over again, the thick length of his cock easing you to oblivion with every gratifying stroke.

“Gonna make this pussy come til’ you’re begging me to stop, sweetheart.”

Feeling his cum drip down your thigh, barely having a second to breathe before being manhandled onto your back, hands searching your body, mapping you out like a foreign land before taking him in again. “It aches, Joel.” Crying softly into his neck, tears of pain and ecstasy leaking down your cheeks. “M’jus’ breakin’ you in, angel.” The smell of his hair anchoring your senses to right here, right now as release washes over you again and again and oh, Joel’s hands on the outsides of your thighs to steady your shaking legs.

“Eyes up baby, wanna see ‘em while I’m comin’ on that pretty face.”

Joel tasted like salt and sin and his stickiness on your cheeks felt warm like a late august sun. Watching you blink your lust-filled and trust-filled eyes, grabbing a fistful of your tangled hair, Joel memorized the way your pouting mouth looked painted with his seed. Thick, dark eyebrows creasing together as a groaned ‘fuckin’ hell’ fell from his open lips—with you, he became an artist, and with him, you were a blank canvas.

Now, the moonlit room was quiet; with every primal need purged from both your systems, your exhausted bodies lay entangled, empty and content. Joel’s heartbeat had settled a few minutes after yours—you’d made note of it with your ear pressed to his chest. But every twitch or fidget from the hand resting on the curve of your waist had your own rhythm picking up double-time, sending hot blood coursing through every now-aching limb.

“You should go,” he grumbles after a while, eyes still closed, body still at rest. Fucking you had basically rendered the man comatose. “Your dad’ll raise hell if he sees an empty bed.”

You scoff. “It’s not like he’s ever cared before—remember when Emma and I snuck out to the old mall and I radio’ed him to get us out?” Joel chuckles, remembering the fond memory. After all, it had been him and not your old man who’d shown up to kick down those crumbling cinema doors, partly rescuing you but mostly reaming you out for being such a careless, stupid teenager.

“And either way, Miller, I’m an adult.”

This time, it’s Joel’s turn to scoff. “Jus’ ‘cause you’re legal, dun’ make you an ‘adult.’ You still whine like a kid.”

You giggle softly as he mocks your indignant tone, feeling the lungs beneath you rumble subtly, too.

Joel was always softest and at his most vulnerable after sex. Well, aren’t all men the same? You figured it was just the nature of the act that left its participants a little more tender and a little less inhibited after its completion. It was strange to remember that Joel was a man like any other.

And the man that you’d allowed to ruin you so skillfully, to burn himself on the archives of your mind, somehow remained a complete mystery to you. He was a tangled web of stifled emotions, unspoken sentences, and chilling stories you’d heard from your inebriated father.

If there was any time to untangle him, it was now.

Joel’s t-shirt is damp with his sweat, and yours, too. What a shame that he hadn’t removed it earlier. He was so very impatient when it came to fucking you, and despite having enough patience this time to get you naked, he didn’t bother to give himself that same treatment. At this point, you felt too self-conscious to ask, pretty well certain that he’d turn down your request, anyways. Peeling your profile from the navy blue fabric, you gaze up at him inquisitively, a steadying hand pressed tentatively against his broad chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Your voice sounds small, like that of a scared child. It makes you cringe.

“Hmph,” he grunts, eyes firmly closed.

Better than nothing. A start.

“Well,” you begin, painfully slowly, tracing timid circles under his collarbone, “Sometimes, I think—”

“S’great, sweetheart,” he interjects in mock earnestness. “Good for you.”

“Knock it off, Miller,” you slap his shoulder playfully. A sly, amused expression teases his features.

After a long, heavy pause, with only the trickling and creaking of the old building occupying it, you soldier on.

“Sometimes, I think that when you’re… well, fucking me… you, well, you kind of use me to—vent.” There. You’d said it. “Like, your frustrations.”

A long exhalation escapes Joel’s lips as he mulls over your words, choosing eventually to respond with cautious and dismissive humor.

“This your way of askin’ me if you’re more’n my human Xanax?”

“No, asshole.”

He hums quietly. The distant sound of a gunshot travels through the open window, dragging you both back to the present moment.

A forced sigh. “I wanted to ask you what you’re trying to get off your mind.”

Joel tenses almost imperceptibly underneath you, an air of seriousness collecting around him.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grumbles, amusement fading from his tone. “M’not really interested in talkin’ about our feelings together.”

The harshness of his words only entices you to push him again, to understand the man who so clearly understood you. There was something there–likely many things there–that he had fucked into you. Things that you now need to know. Things calling to you like an abandoned childhood home.  

You want to pull him into yourself, crawl under his very skin and exist there for a minute or two. In his bed, in his place, and you’re still worlds apart.

“I’m not asking you to talk about your feelings, Miller. I just want to know that I’m not letting, like, a total, raging maniac climb between my knees.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. His eyes flit open, and as soon as they do, you recognize the vacant, apathetic expression that had characterized him for you all these years. He grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows, and you sit up, yanking at the tangled sheets to cover yourself.

“Ever been outside the QZ, sweetheart?” He asks, his poorly restrained temper slicing through his words.

Looking down at your hands, you trace the cream-colored creases stretching along the blanket, shaking your head no, side to side.

“S’right. Not a single man on this planet that’s not a total, raging maniac. Enough fear, thirst, or hunger…” something truly terrifying creeps onto his expression, a vision of darkness, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not with soldiers, not with your father, not even with Joel.

“Everyone’s a killer.”

You swallow slowly, trailing your eyes up to meet his charged gaze. The room feels cold.

“Are you?”

His shadowed eyes narrow with irritation. “Am I what, sweetheart?”

“A killer.”

Then it’s regret and violence corrupting his features, and before you know it, Joel Miller is somewhere else. It takes a long time for him to come back to you (if you can even pretend to claim that Joel had ever been with you in the first place).

He hesitates, huffing quickly with frustration and looking away for a brief moment before focussing back on you—conceding to your question with a quick nod.

An acidic taste collects on your tongue, but his answer isn’t surprising. You’d always known in some way that Joel had taken lives. Still, it felt strange to hear him acknowledging it, to see the pain that admitting to it caused him. His actions actually bothered him. That meant he had a soul in some jagged, twisted form and that certain things could affect it. Thinking about that made your temples hurt.

“For what reason?”

You can’t help it—you’d come this far, and it felt like failure to quit prying. It doesn’t matter that Joel’s a grenade with no safety lever. You know it’s only a matter of time before he explodes, but you’d grown up diffusing your father daily. Bombs were your specialty.

“Does it matter?”

Upstairs, the floorboards creak softly. It almost makes you jump.

“I think so.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing with irritation. Otherwise, he stays surprisingly level. Some hopeful part of you tries to whisper that some softer part of him actually wants you to get under his skin.

“Alright.” You stare at him, stunned at his forfeiture, as he breathes a dark, humorless laugh. “But you’re gonna hate me for my answer.”

There’s a loaded pause as you gape expectantly at him. His head falls back, eyes fixed to the chipping, washed-out ceiling.

“In the early days of the outbreak, before FEDRA had the QZs figured out… things weren’t easy. You gotta understand that.” His gravelly voice cuts through the room’s silence, vibrating through your stilled body. “I’ve killed, tortured, n’hurt more people’n I can count. Sometimes to save myself, sometimes someone else, ‘n other times… other times jus’ because. And,” he groans, laying his back against the pillows as his harrowing monologue comes to a close, “It wasn’t always life or death, either.”

You pull the sheets in close to your chest, shuddering partly due to his words, partly due to his delivery. As if he was warning you. As if he wanted you to hear the truth and…

And punish him for it.

With his eyes shutting again, he can’t see you studying him. He’s probably assumed that a look of abject horror has poisoned your complexion. As you angle yourself to view his resting body—the pained expression causing his eyebrows to furrow, lips pressed tightly together—an overwhelming rush of adoration expands in your lungs, swelling inexplicably and uncontrollably in your chest. Your thoughts blare at full blast inside your racing mind.

Joel was capable; he had blood lust and an inner violence that meant he felt, deeply, and he’d die—or even better, kill—for those he loved. He was…

Joel was perfect.

Maybe it was a fucked up thing to feel—maybe it meant that you needed to be studied by a team of psychiatrists. Either way, the thought of his agonized soul, carrying on out of sheer spite and a reluctant desire to protect his own had you melting at his side. Joel wasn’t static, unfeeling, or a ghost, he was real, and he was alive. Growing up in a near-dead world haunted by once vibrant cities had made that trait alone extremely precious.

He remains still while you move his arm, wiggling next to him to sit back on your calves and looming over his unyielding form. Maybe he thinks you’ve pulled a gun on him and is just giving you a chance to pull the trigger.

Dropping the pale sheet from your breasts, you caress Joel’s harsh jaw in one hand, sneaking the other down, down his stomach and under the waistband of his briefs.

His eyes surge open, finding yours and filling with confusion. You burn with affection, a kind of fierceness that wasn’t there before.

Brow creasing, eyelids fluttering as he hardens in your grasp. You wordlessly entice him once again, bowing down and over to press tender kisses to his neck.

“I could never hate you, Joel Miller.”

He whimpers softly as you stroke him—tantalizingly slow in big, long pulls—it makes your heart flutter to hear him whine for you. 

A refreshing reversal of roles.

You ease your way down, trailing your lips down his scarred side and over to his front, exploring the strip of grey hair marking the center of his abdomen.

Joel watches you, longing on his lips, but the uncertainty still lingers. You need him to listen.

“I’d kill and torture if it meant survival—” you arrive at his hard length, pumping it in your hand right next to your softened features.

“And I would kill and torture for you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you part your lips around the tip of his cock, drinking in his fascination as you take him in slowly, wholly. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses the back of your throat. 

Once again, you’re filled with Joel. 

A soft hiss, and then his face becomes a symphony of pleasure, disbelief, and, finally, hunger. His large hand caresses the back of your head, capable fingers tangling softly in your hair as you glide up and down his length, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and your own acidity on his satin-smooth skin.

He only parts from your stare when you draw lazy, adoring circles around his tip, throwing his head back and grinding out a ‘Jesus Christ.’

It’s almost too much for him when you start using your hands, making it your life’s purpose to eagerly please every inch, every square millimeter of him. You drag your tongue from the base of his length all the way up to the top, silver-lined eyes boring intensely into his own.

“Shoulda let you do this sooner,” he breathes, gently pushing your head down until your nose brushes against those dark, curly hairs. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with a mouth full of cock.”

There he is.

You pull off him, strings of saliva trailing down from your lips to the glistening tip of his length. “You wanna come on my tongue?”

In a haze, perfectly slowly, Joel throws his head back with a low growl. You stroke him affectionately, spit and his own salt collecting between your fingers as you wait patiently for his reply.

Then he pushes himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his rough hands around your upper arms and easing you up off his length. “Not this time, baby.” You’re straddling him, taking in the unfamiliar care spoiling his tone and softening his hard features when he leans forward, locking you in place like a missing puzzle piece he’d spent his whole damn life searching for. His cock rests between your bodies, pressing exquisitely against your abdomen.

“Only got one more in me, sweetheart. M’not plannin’ on wastin’ it.”

He lifts his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks between them like some kind of priceless, fascinating object. It all feels so paradoxical: innocent despite the filthiness of his words, gentle despite the forest fires blazing in his gaze. Searching your eyes, he runs the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. 

And he kisses you.

It’s not bruising at first—it’s a soft, curious question, an experiment. The grey-flecked hair of his mustache brushes the crescent of your Cupid’s bow, and the feeling almost brings you to tears. So you lean into it, deepening the kiss with hard pressure, searching for the answer on his tongue. That’s when his hands tangle in your hair, and his lips steal the oxygen right out from your lungs as he reciprocates fiercely.

It’s like watching a prisoner take his first steps out into the sun after being held in isolation for a decade. You wonder if it had been that long for Joel.

Without breaking away, you trail a hand down the fabric of his t-shirt. Then, you’re grabbing it from the bottom and hitching it up his abdomen. He pulls away just a half-inch to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, his own marked with apprehension.

“I want all of you,” you plead breathlessly, sliding off his starved lips.

Joel ducks his head, staring at the meeting place between your fingers and his cotton.

“If…” he tries, words clumsy, voice gruff. A bit of bashful humour underscores his tone, too. “F’I let that happen, you’ll see that I’m really jus’ an old man, angel.” You begin to protest, having come prepared with another I-like-them-old-and-decrepit speech, but he cuts you off, anticipating your reaction. “Jus’ been a long time since I looked fit enough for somethin’ like you.”

It’s almost too ridiculous. Joel Miller, worried about how you’ll receive his appearance after you’d deep-throated him for admitting to Geneva-convention levels of violent crime.

This time, it's your turn to cup his face, cradling him reverently between your hands with passionate devotion.

“You and me might be different on the outside,” you begin, surprising yourself with the conviction dripping from your own tone. “But deep down? I’m just as rotten as you.”

His mouth breaks into a genuine smile, and he chuckles, creases lining the corners of his eyes as if carved there by God’s own hand. Nodding with concession, he shrugs his shirt off; you reach out to help him to pull it off entirely.

Scars, definition, and tan skin stretch with every shaky breath he takes. Fuck. The tips of your fingers explore him, honoured by the feel of likely being the first in ages to claim this spot, and that one, and this one here, too–Joel’s turned you into a conquistador, a crusader.

“You’re so, so handsome, Joel.”

It’s not enough to see him, wholly exposed, flesh-blood-skin-scars-and-muscle. Nothing’s ever made you feel so safe and so warm; Joel is a worn-out, hand-me-down jacket that you can’t seem to part with; he’s candles during a thunderstorm, a thick blanket begging you to wrap yourself in it. You want him on you, against you, inside you.

So you take the man, and you kiss him—ardently.

His breathing hitches when you grasp his length, and it stops completely when you slide it between your slick folds, pulling every inch of him inside yourself appreciatively. You swallow his groan as he inhales your gasp.

Your hips move together in tandem. Rocking against his thighs as his hands anchor into your hair, or on your breasts, your ass, your waist—Joel holds you as close to himself as physically possible, threatening to crush you between his arms, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip with a starving kind of need.

Old habits die hard. Joel gets swept up in the way you start struggling to kiss him back, the involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your helpless fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Sliding his hands under your ass, he holds your hips steady. Then, he’s spreading you open to receive him more readily, dictating the rhythm, the angle, and the brutality of how he fucks you.

Ruining you to completion was quickly becoming an addiction.

He smiles against your mouth when you give him a muffled “mmm,” releasing your lips to watch, a captivated audience, as your eyebrows knit together, relishing the sound of your lungs filling with short, pleading gasps.

“Gonna be bruised inside n’ out, baby.” Joel’s promise barely registers over the clap of his skin against yours and your own wanton moans. A thoroughly cock-drunken expression and the worship of his name on your tongue win you some hard-earned praise.

“Taken me so many times tonight—been such a good lil’ toy.”

Your lips slide down the stubble and the rough skin of his cheek, limp body giving out with every punishing snap of his hips. Still, you attempt speech, stammering out a “Joel, I-I want—” that’s mostly unintelligible.

“I know, baby,” he coos, words muffled by your hair, hot breath fanning out over the valley of your neck. “S’hard to use your words when you’re jus’ so full, huh?”

After finding the strength to straighten up and face him, your mouth moves from its permanent ‘ah’ shape to string together a pleading, desperate sentence. Joel doesn’t make it easy for you, picking up the intensity of his strokes, dragging you to the edge of bliss.

“I wanna—I want you to show me how to ride you—to take you—please—let me make you come.”

He laughs softly into your shoulder: the sight and the sound of a woman begging to do the work was a kind of rarity (albeit an appreciated one, at his age) in his experience. Acquiescing, he lowers you back onto his broad thighs, slowing his rhythm, and giving you a chance to catch your shallow, uneven breath.

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Like a true cocky bastard, Joel leans back against the mess of strewn pillows, casually tucking his hands behind his head and leaving you to steady yourself on top of him, velvet walls still fluttering and squeezing adoringly around him.

You hold yourself up with your palms pressed flat against his chest. Rock slowly and carefully against his hips, observe the sight of your fingernails pressing into his unyielding chest. A whimper tumbles from your sore, parted lips as Joel’s tip nudges your inner-most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me.”

Hardened hands reach out to circle your waist. “You look at me when you’re riding,” he instructs.

“Show me how grateful you are for this cock.”

His voice is strict and firm but gentle all the same. Joel relaxes underneath you. It feels good—so good—to watch your body undoing his own; it feels even better when he flexes involuntarily inside you, stretching open your sore, aching, and somehow still needy cunt. Locked into his lustful, dominant gaze, you speed up, throwing your hips back to grind enthusiastically against him. He watches first your eyes and then your breasts, palming them, teasing your hardened nipples roughly.

“You wanna touch yourself?”

Low and gravelly and filthy, his question looms over your body, only adding to the soft thud drumming inside the eager bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

He makes you realize that you really, really do.

You nod eagerly at him; Joel gives you a knowing expression of sympathy.

He never could help his condescension at watching you crumble so easily from so little.

“Show me, angel.”

So you do–Joel holds you steady as your hand falls to your clit, drawing clumsy circles over that one aching spot. Your fingers are frustratingly unskilled compared to his, but at this level of arousal, you’ll do anything to ease that mounting pressure. You focus hard, multitasking through your euphoria.

Him watching as you pleasure yourself excites you. Squeezing him harder, riding him with newfound passion—Joel groans as his long-awaited orgasm builds between his thighs, watching you bounce up and down his tense, throbbing length. His darkening eyes beckon you to keep going, to tip him over the edge.

You want to fall into them when he comes inside you.  

He knocks your hand away, replacing your index and middle fingers with a broad, calloused, impatient thumb against your grateful bud. “Ohmygod–Joel–” and the rush worsens, his fingers acting as catalysts for the all-too-familiar sensations spreading across your core.

“With me, baby,” his voice is gruff, restrained by need, want, lust. “Lemme feel you comin’ when I fill you up–s’it, good fuckin’ girl–”

Tears collect on your lashes, and a sob heaves from your throat. You reach your climax for him, the ache from your clit spreading to overtake every inch of your body. Joel comes too. He tucks your head into the soft, damp skin of his neck and fists the hair at the back of your head. Your legs ache with absence the moment he pulls his fingers away from your core. Still, his only instinct as his seed spills between your walls is to pull you into himself as tightly as possible, to intertwine himself wholly and eternally with your young, devoted soul.

He doesn’t let you move after it’s over. One arm circles your waist, the other snakes up your back; it feels like standing at the base of the pearly gates of heaven. When his laborious exhales brush the top of your spine, it’s those damn angels sighing.

And it feels like he’s here. It feels like you’ve landed somewhere together, no longer strangers but something else. Something new. Something stronger. Sweeter. And worlds more dangerous.

Joel Miller running his thumb up and down the plunge of your neck. Joel Miller cursing himself for allowing you to take a hammer and chisel to the walls he’d spent painstaking years putting up, eternities before you were even born.

Joel Miller realizing that he can’t find it in himself to let you leave.

“For the record, sweetheart—I’d torture n’ kill for you, too.”

You have no trouble believing him, smiling softly against his shoulder.

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @daydreamerblues @spacelatinos4life @totallynotastanacc @honeycovered-bandaids @daddy-din @cedricbitch @tiredbuthappy @sweetpea99 @ghostfanwriter @daixylie @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett

—

Tumblr on mobile loves to destroy my fics by screwing with the last few hundred words SO here are the lyrics to Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana Del Rey lmao <3

I come from a small town, how about you? I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want you to come Eighty miles North or South will do I don't care where as long as you're with me And I'm with you and you let me

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in poems and songs Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me hold you like a baby

I come from a small town far away I only mention it 'cause I'm ready to leave LA And I want (need) you to come I guess I could manage if you stay It's just if you do I can't see myself having any fun, so

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity Let me love you like a woman (let me hold you like a baby) Take you to infinity

We could get lost in the purple rain Talk about the good old days We could get high on some pink champagne Baby, let me count the waves

Let me love you like a woman Let me hold you like a baby Let me shine like a diamond Let me be who I'm meant to be Talk to me in songs and poems Don't make me be bittersweet Let me love you like a woman

—

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

(Idia's Part)

Previous part (Kalim)

─────❅─────

A/n: Out of every housewarden, I felt like sobbing writing Idia's cause of how fluffy he is, I love him so much. Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!

─────❅─────

First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul

Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Kalim = The sultan Idia = Hades ─────❅───── Idia: The underworld has always been Idia’s little comfort zone, although at first, he didn’t want to rule it, due to how depressing it gets sometimes, but along with his brother Ortho who takes care of “outside” activities, aka meetings with those overbearing gods and goddesses who think they’re better than anyone, he didn’t mind the work as long as it’s with him. So far, his duties were all just about guiding souls into whatever the fuck they want or are allowed to go, honestly if they all became lost souls, he wouldn’t give a flying damn.

One day, however, an odd discrepancy appeared in the calculations of souls being accepted—an unregistered soul had entered the narrative. Concerned, he strolled toward the portal of Tartarus to investigate. When he peered inside, a sudden flash of blinding light erupted, disorienting him. Before he could react, a heavy force slammed into his body, causing him to stumble.

“What the!” he grunted, feeling a heavy body on top of him, he rubbed his head, opening his eyes, adjusting to the sudden light-to-darkness transition.

You stirred, finding your hands pinning him down. His eyes widened in shock as he pushed you off, scrambling backward so quickly that he hit his back on the wall with a loud slam.

“What In the world?!” he screeched, his hair glowing brightly meaning he was incredibly nervous, while you seemed to be lost, standing up, you pat away the dust off your outfit, taking notice of Idia who still was pressed on the wall.

“Idia?” you went closer to him, he looked like an angry kitten, glaring at you at first but the moment you got closer he stiffens up, pushing his hands to protect himself from you.

“Stay back! You anomaly!” he shouted that it echoed around the empty room, you were taken aback, “Idia, it’s me.” you said, eyebrows knitting in frustration.

“H-how do you know my name?” he asked, looking at you confusedly, were you sent by his other brother who he doesn’t even think of one, Zeus? You look kind of angelic so there’s a suspicion.

“Idia, you’re my boyfriend” Wow point blank you decided to kill him with those words, boyfriend his ass, what boyfriend, all he knows is that he prefers to be single than have a lover, also he wants to add that you are way out of his league, there’s no way you like him that way, and this is the first time you met him, was there a camera around here? The edited laughter? Where is it? He’s waiting for that to come.

Realizing that he was overthinking again, you snapped your fingers catching his attention; stating your name you tried to see if you got any reaction, but nothing. He really didn’t remember you.

You were going to be saddened by this, if it weren’t for the fact that the tips of his hairs had a slight pink on it meaning was still a chance for you to get your boyfriend back.

Okay, you two might be misunderstanding things, while Idia was observant, he can’t think straight when he’s in front of someone, his black and blue robe being a perfect cover for himself, he even had a hoodie knitted for him to cover his hair with.

You noticed that he was taller than before, raising your eyebrow, you grabbed his arm, which made him freeze up, looking at you like you just harassed him, his sweat drops. “What?”

“Since when did you get taller?” you asked, he slides your hand off of his arm, rubbing it a bit, “I don’t know?” he answered confusedly, before waving his hand dismissively, “No more questions, I’m bringing you back to Zeus” he grumbled, his stupid brother playing pranks on him again.

“What? Zeus?” you walked faster to catch up on him when he started speedwalking away, “Y’know, God of Olympus?” he said, weirded out why you didn’t know Zeus, everyone knows him.

“Wait, Zeus as in the God from long ago?” you asked further, which made Idia stop his tracks, turning to look at you, his figure looming, he looked like a grim reaper when he stands with you before, but now it’s more evident.

“What do you mean long ago?” he asked as bewildered as you are, why are you acting this way anyways? Anomaly that popped out of nowhere and almost giving him a concussion and right now you’re giving him a migraine, what’s next huh? brain aneurysm?   

“Are you not my Idia?” you frowned, looking at him closer, he exhibited a different style, he was taller, slightly shorter hair, bluish skin instead of pale.

“Your” Idia? What does that mean?

The more you open your mouth the more questions pop out, sighing he decided to cover your mouth with his hand. “Please… just shut up for a minute”

Okay, first theory! You’re not from around here, I mean you just got spat out like trash by the Tartarus and suddenly proclaiming that he’s your boyfriend, he feels bad for you, your standard is in hell if you’re dating him, you’re pretty too, a disrespect to your face really.

Second theory, which he’s leaning on more, you’re a spy sent by his brother Zeus; to make him fall for you and you break his heart and upload it to magicam or something.

If you think he’s self-deprecating too much, please, he’s just being realistic with the situation.

“First off, I am not yours” he clarified, lifting his hands as if he’s surrendering to you. “I never met you in my whole life, you’re cute but no”

Rejected by your own boyfriend, you wanted to pinch his cheeks for it, you were going to be hurt by this, but the thing is, the way he acts reminded you of the first stages of your relationship with him, he wasn’t the best with it.

“Okay,” you said, being short with him, for some reason that made him feel bad, scratching the back of his neck, he wanted to hold your cheek or hand to comfort you, an odd feeling.

“Sorry- I mean if you want to, I can act like your boyfriend or something” he murmured, his voice gradually decreasing to the point you barely heard the last words.

“It’s fine Idia, no need” not wanting to force him into that kind of thing, however, you noticed that his little fire hair started to fizzle out, panicking a bit you touched his hand, holding it, “wait I mean, okay, sure we can act”

Phew, that got his fire back up, lucky you. “Okay…” he said awkwardly coughing as he uses his tech to call for Ortho. “Ortho, can you come here?”

Ortho was impressively fast with going back to the underworld, looking the same except his clothes or rather his cyborg parts looked Greek like, it explains why you were wearing a tunic.

“Scan her” Idia said, using his eyes to signal ortho who to scan, in which Ortho grins brightly. “Okay!”

You stayed still as Ortho used his eyes to scan you, it was something that came natural for you, especially since your Ortho does that often.

“So?” Idia asked, leaning on the wall, Ortho shook his head, looking conflicted. “Nope, she doesn’t have any data around Ancient Greece, or anywhere”

“Huh” he didn’t seem surprised. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, patting Ortho’s head. “Yeah! I did another scan but there’s no indication of her presence anywhere.

So, you really were just transported by Tartarus to Ancient Greece, connecting the dots, that means Idia here is…

Noticing you staring at him in deep thought He smiles a bit, you looked funny thinking like that, pouty and all. “Since you’re really not from here, my name is Idia, God of the Underworld, and this is Ortho, my brother.” Ortho waves at you enthusiastically and he was genuinely surprised that his brother introduced him instead of himself.

“I know” you hummed, crossing your arms. “I told you already, we’re dating- “

Idia tried to cover your mouth before you spout that out but failed as Ortho’s eyes widens. “You’re dating my brother in the other world?! You mean there’s another version of us in your world?”

Oh dear, you’re in it now.

Ortho basically asked you plenty of questions, already happy that his brother pulled someone like you, you were gorgeous!

Idia was a bit happy you got along with his brother, he sometimes feels bad that he keeps Ortho in such a depressing place instead of being a normal kid outside and playing.

Also he can’t help but get flustered whenever you randomly get physically affectionate with him, he’s been trying to find a way to get you back in your world, but it’s proving to be difficult since Tartarus maybe his domain, but it’s a system that’s entirely independent from him, think of it as the pity system in his gacha games, even if you hit enough 80 pulls, it doesn’t guarantee the limited character you want.

But, as long as he can, Idia tries to make sure every time he hangs out with you is worthwhile, it’s the first time he made effort to spend time with someone, when he’s off work, he finds himself going to the guest room, asking if you wanted to come eat with him and Ortho, or sometimes, you end up in his room, playing a two-player game with him.

Ever since you came into his life, he started going out of his room more, back then he usually just… does his work and go to his room. That’s all Now he’s trying to go outside more, especially when Ortho told him that to get you back faster was by “thinking outside the box” which just meant that he should go touch some grass and let the gears in his brain think of a solution.

He didn’t really know when he fell for you, but he noticed it when you were outside with him, in the largest field that had nothing but nature around. The outfit that Ortho lend you fits your palette so perfectly, it almost made him want to take a picture.

You were admiring the view while glancing around, picking up flowers.

Confused with what you were doing he walked to you. “Hey what-“ getting cut off as you shove a bouquet of flowers on his chest, a ribbon clumsily wrapped around the stems of the flowers.

“For you” you said, smiling, making his heart skip a bit, he accepted the gift as Ortho called out for you, giving him a glance before you grab his collar, pulling him down to kiss his cheek before walking away.

That got his hair to burn bright pink, shaking from the adrenaline, he coughed awkwardly, hopefully, Ortho didn’t see what you did.

Well, he’s having a hard time finding a way to send you back home, so… it might take a while.

─────❅───── A/n: ACCCCCCK IDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ILYSM ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ Malleus' Part

[mere-mortifer]

♥ Sanji/Reader Rec List ♥

40+ fics & authors suggestions! Click here to view this on a separate web page for easier navigation ♥

Sometimes I’m normal about fictional characters, other times I become psycho-sexually obsessed with them and relentlessly look for fanworks where they get smooched and hugged into oblivion. And by characters I mean Sanji.

So here’s a non-comprehensive list of Sanji/Reader fics that I love, most of them rated Explicit. This got sooo long because I kept finding other works to add while scrolling through my bookmarks and reblogs, it goes to show how good the fandom is! (Assume, unless otherwise stated, that Sanji is more on the sexually submissive side, since I like what I like and seek out that dynamic specifically.)

Authors I love

I’m starting this list with a few mentions of my favorite authors, although I’m sure I’m stating the obvious with most of these and you all know them already. Who cares! Go re-read their stuff! Leave a comment! Give them your money!

1. One Piece Works by @onlymurphy

Not to fall into hyperbole, but I owe OnlyMurphy my life. If you’re here reading this list then surely you love this author already, so this a good excuse to re-read the entire Grow Old With Me series. Sanji’s characterization is top-notch, and if you enjoy explorations of his self worth issues and how they would affect an otherwise loving romantic relationship then look no further. Also the author is a very talented smut writer (very talented writer in general, make no mistake), and that's the greatest accolade I can give them. Imagine me putting a gold metal around their neck but I’m the one who's moved to tears about it.

Honorable mentions for the filthiest-yet-very-romantic works in their catalog:

🌶 Do That Again

🌶 Wildest Dreams

🌶 If I’m Lucky

2. One Piece Works by @citrinae

I’m linking the masterlist for this author ‘cause I really like all their Sanji-centric fics, and I’d love, love, love to see more. Sanji is so princely and devoted, just an absolute dream of a man, and he’s putting a lot of effort into making the reader feel loved. He gets stellar results in my opinion.

3. One Piece Works by @thus-spoke-lo (GoldExperience86 on Ao3)

There are three fics in particular by this author that I couldn’t pick a favorite from if you held me at gunpoint: 

🌶 Let Me Help 

🌶 Worth the Wait

🌶 Dear Diary 

Have you ever read a sex scene so good you bypass getting horny and go straight into mourning, knowing you won’t be able to read it for the first time again? That has not stopped me from reading all these roughly a million times. Click on those links. Look at me in the eyes, listen very carefully: click on those links. I say this because I love you and want you to be happy. 

You will find other fics by them in the rec list because 1) I couldn’t resist and 2) I’m pretty sure they have more things posted on Tumblr than Ao3, at least as separate one-shots.

4. 🌶One Piece Fics by @untolduttering

Author, I know deep in my soul that you love Sanji as much as I do. Fortunately I’m okay with sharing. If anything I'm glad I'm not alone in the trenches.

Check out all her fics and snippets, her writing is incredible and I’ve loved every single thing about Sanji she’s ever posted. Each time I open Tumblr and I see a new post by her, my day gets a little brighter. She writes one of my favorite versions of Sanji ever, insatiable and devoted and so, so hot. He couldn’t be more my type if he tried. 

I want to single out her vampire!Sanji one-shot because I haven’t seen this trope used by anyone else and I liked it a lot! It fits so well, what with the theme of hunger and Sanji’s inability to ask for what he needs:

Hunger 

The meta post that inspired the fic

5. One Piece Works by @fanaticsnail

Fanaticsnail, you’re the only one who has ever made me willingly click on a smut fic that involved Doflamingo just because Sanji was there, too, and I love your Sanji so damn much (p.s.: everyone go read it, 🌶 Seat Number Four).

One of their fics also appears in the Sex Pollen section, and since that one is particularly filthy let me add here two fluffy, romantic fics where Sanji is all cute and flustered by the reader:

Kiss The Cook

Your Flirty Chef

Yearning & Pining

The title of the section is pretty self-explanatory: fics where and the reader are not together, but God knows they want to.

6. 🌶 Wanting by @froggiewrites

This fic…holy shit. I’m genuinely writing this with tears in my eyes. The yearning & pining & longing mixed with the sexual tension so thick you can cut it with a knife makes for a truly incredible read. Only for real Sanji lovers, if you’re not nodding along at each desperate thought the reader insert has about this man then I’m sorry but you’re only a casual Sanji liker.

7. 🌶 My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand by ladyhabanera

[screaming crying throwing up] no yeah I’m very normal about this fic, I like it a totally normal amount. In the Ao3 comments I say that “Sanji is so so dreamy—a heady mix of submissive and deeply romantic”, and then if you scroll a little you find my other comment which is just me yelling in all caps at my second reread. I not only stand by both, but I’m doubling down. 

8. Puzzled by @mynewblackdress

What a lovely series, and what a lovely trope…misunderstandings due to bad communication are as irritating and useless in real life as they are incredibly fun to read about. The reader is convinced that Sanji’s earnest compliments are his fucked up way of making fun of her, and it takes a while before they figure out that he means every word. Give it a read if you want a break from the sea of smut that I’ve added to this list, and you're the mood for opla!Sanji in particular. 

9. Sweet Confession by @softonshanks

I have one specific weakness that I’m glad to often see in fics: Sanji getting a hug while he’s busy cooking, and he’s all cute and flustered about it because he didn’t expect the affection.  And this fic has that + Sanji’s a pining mess for the reader, who he’s FWBs with despite the fact that he’s totally in love with her + she’s taller than him and he loves it. I’ve hit the jackpot. I’d love to see more Sanji fics from this author, so much so that I’m gonna ask her pretty please in Italian: Sara, ti prego, facci sognare.

10. 🌶 Your Name by @strawhatsoraya

Now, the one pining in this fic is me. Sanji and the reader are actually complete strangers, but if what appeals to you in mutual pining fics is the gut-wrenching depth of the feelings described, then I think you should check out this little one-shot. My notes on Ao3 are “Tfw when a pwp hits your id so well it bypasses making you horny and goes straight to suicidal”—do with that what you will. Also, check out the rest of this author’s fics and make a whole evening out of it.

Ft. Zoro

Get that stinky Mosshead out of my sight…no, wait, let him stay. I guess we can take turns on Sanji or something.

11. 🌶 Picture You by @froggiewrites

I don’t usually read Sanji fics where Zoro is heavily involved, but I’m glad that that didn’t stop me from clicking on this one (also, to be fair, they take turns on the reader. Well, the reader takes turns on them.) My note on the Ao3 bookmark is “God-tier sad horny Sanji characterisation”...couldn't have said it better, me from the past. 

12. 🌶 Shaken Up Hearts by @lyriumcoloredskies

Okay so I lied, maybe I do like it when Zoro is heavily involved, as long as it’s a collab to team up on Sanji. Sanji gets lovingly demolished in this one, but before he gets there he’s sad like a kicked puppy about not being allowed to kiss both you and Zoro. Who am I to say no to a heavy dose of Zosan in my het Sanji smut?

13. 🌶 Nuvole e Lenzuola by redtendou

This one’s niche because it’s written in Italian. I was stunned by the author’s ability to make a graphic sex scene actually work despite Italian’s atrocious sex-related lexicon–trust me, it’s a struggle. If you’re into Zoro and the reader ganging up on Sanji and you understand Italian, definitely give it a read.

Spa day for the soul

Fics where you take care of Sanji, or Sanji takes care of you, or where there are actual spa activities thrown into the mix. God knows this man needs some TLC once in a while.

14. 🌶 My Pampered Prince by @sheerxfiction

It’s Sanji’s turn to spend some time flat on his back on the kitchen table–it’s what he deserves. If you’re craving a brilliant smutty fic where Sanji gets pampered then you've foudn it, the reader take really good care of him in this one–and I have to give bonus points for the heavy dose of Sanji’s self-worth issues and the readersinsert fighting back against his refusal to get taken care of. Get loved, idiot.

15. 🌶 Shower Time by @chibieggplant

Cute, hot, sexy–I’m talking both about the writing and Sanji in this fic. He takes a shower with the reader and spends the entire time in disbelief that he gets to tenderly wash her body, feeling quite embarrassed by how into it he is, despite the fact that this an established relationship fic. And that’s how I like my boys!

16. 🌶 Vinsmoke Sanji: Not all Men are Rats by livingonadaydream

I love, love, love fics where Sanji gets pampered…but it doesn’t hurt to read the complete opposite once in a while. A very sweet Sanji makes sure that the reader gets a very happy ending.

First Time

We'll never know the canonical sexual history for any One Piece characters because Oda is, unfortunately, a coward. However I'm not surprised that Sanji is considered by many the most virgin to have ever virgined in the history of virginity—so here's a list of fics where you pop his cherry. Be delicate, please...he's very sensitive.

17. 🌶 Say When by @venomatically

This one has to be the first I tell you about. If you go check the comments on Ao3 you’ll find me absolutely losing my mind after my first read, and there’s no quick comment I can add here to fully explain how much I love this author, her writing, and–Good Lord in Heaven–the way she writes Sanji. He’s a virginal pervert. He’s got that dog in him and it happens to be a cute little puppy. He’s so sweet and adoring he can’t bear to tell you how often he thinks about fucking you. I need someone to invent him in real life, it’s not even funny anymore. (Also, if you like to see Sanji actually get a little depraved, check out her other fic, too: 🌶 Letting Off Steam)

18. 🌶 Lust by @tetzoro

Ooh, this one’s hot. It starts so poetic and romantic, but as Sanji loses himself in the feeling the descriptions get more carnal. I love his POV here. Also it involves one of my favourite things ever: the readers starts on top but when it gets too good Sanji can't resist and he flips her over to do all the work himself. Who else cheered?

Sex Pollen

While writing this rec list I realized I have at least four sex pollen fics where Sanji eats something he shouldn’t and then…I wanna say “regrets it”, but the consequences are that he has hot sweaty sex with someone he’s really into. If he were to notice the trend I think he might start putting the wrong thing in his mouth on purpose.

19. 🌶 It’s a what flower?! by @sanjifucker42069

From the blog name alone I knew I’d found a kindred spirit. They have written for both the animanga and OPLA, and to be honest it’s hard for me to pick a favorite work. That’s a lie, this one’s my favorite. The author has a great sense of humor, and this fic in particular is both very funny and incredibly hot. I love how desperate and pathetic Sanji gets, and how hard the reader insert is trying to keep things PG before it becomes obvious they just have to fuck! Good problems to have if you ask me.

20. 🌶 a fever you can't sweat out by @cryocandy

I remember reading this one day right before work. My shift was about to start, and I was sitting by myself in the car reading the smoking hot sex scene for no good reason at all, ensuring that I wouldn't be able to focus on anything productive for the rest of the day. Sanji in this fic is so dreamy and cute and pathetic, all qualities enhanced greatly by the amazing writing. If you don’t think you like fuck-or-die fics, do yourself a favour and read this one anyway. 

21. 🌶 Needy Boy by @maddddstuff

My note on Ao3 for this one was “Single-handedly made me into spanking btw, if you even care”, and I stand by it. He’s the one that gets spanked by the way, in case someone was in doubt.

22. 🌶 Someone Help Me by @fanaticsnail

Sanji’s a mess in this one. A total and complete mess, and I loved every word of it–also, since in the first part Sanji is struggling against the effects of the sex pollen all on his lonesome, this fic might also appeal to my fellow Sanji whump fans.

Dom!Sanji & Co.

Just because I have a preference for Sanji being a sub it doesn’t mean I will scoff at fics where he’s more dominant in bed. Here are the ones I stumbled upon that I’ve really liked! (Also I’m using the term “dominant” very loosely here, in some of these fics he’s simply more assertive in bed.)

23. Too Much (Take Me Home) by @secretwritingspot

This is THEE dom!Sanji series for me. There’s no sex in it, it’s more of an exploration of the sub/Dom dynamic and why someone would crave submitting to another person. Sanji finds himself in the dominant role with little warning, but he’s damn great at it in his usual adoring and tender way. I’m linking the first fic of the series, but the author has written more for this scenario!

24. 🌶 Leg Day by 1LucaCola1

The title says it all; fantastic premise for a smoking hot pwp fic. If I had the opportunity to train and make good use of Sanji’s expertise, I’d also push myself too far until my legs were shaking, and then let him do other things to me to make the shaking even worse.

25. 🌶 very professional nights by @missfrustration

Ugh, I love this one! Sanji is your superior at the Baratie, and he’s so very stern with you until he isn’t at all. Love the bait and switch of a Sanji whose professionalism makes him act a little cold when clients’ satisfaction is on the line but simply melts when he’s alone with the reader. And everything he ends up doing to the reader in this fic, I’d hardly call a punishment.

26. 🌶 Doodled Hearts by Twisted_Inkwell

Soft dom Sanji fucks you hard but he’s sweet talking to you in French the whole time. I don’t know what else to add to convince you to read this one, that should be plenty.

In the kitchen

To fuck the cook, you’ll have to look for him in his natural habitat. Then you can proceed to ruin the kitchen table for everyone else.

27. 🌶 Midnight Snack by BombasticBastard

This fic is a part of a Sanji/Reader/Zoro series, but I’m linking Part 2 where it’s just you and our lovely boy. As the title says, the reader is craving a midnight snack and goddamn, she gets the best one the Sunny’s pantry has to offer. This could also go in the Dom!Sanji category because he quite literally talks you through it, as the kids say nowadays, but he also showers the reader in compliments & he confesses his love, so overall he’s too much of a big ol’ softie to call him dominant in any way.

28. 🌶 All It Takes by mooseskulls

Reader catches Sanji being the pervert that he is, stolen underwear and badly-hidden moans included. This one has both a gender neutral version and a transmasc!reader one, I thought that was lovely–this way lots of different people can enjoy the “getting bent over the kitchen counter” scenario. 

29. 🌶 Compliments to the Chef by @tigreblue

The Author says this is their first fic–if that’s the case, they’ve got a bright future ahead of them. We all know Sanji doesn’t easily accept love and gratitude, but some good ol’ finger-sucking ought to convince him. Things degenerate beautifully from there.

Dark(er)

By darker I mean that I’m adding here fics where Sanji is something other than an absolute sweetheart. You’ll understand how actually dark any of these fics are from my comments and the authors’ tags, but they all have the general vibe of “Sanji is a sleazy pervert” in varying degrees of illegality.

30. 🌶 appetite by @groubee

Ooh…this one’s fucked up. Sanji is an unreliable narrator that makes non-con somnophilia sound kinda cute, actually (it really isn’t.) In his defense he’s written as some sort of incubus-slash-sex-demon. The author doesn’t go into detail but they don’t need to, it’s all about the sickly sweet mood (emphasis on sickly) of a tender lover who’s also a horrible, horrible person.

31. 🌶 Letting Off Steam by @venomatically

He’s a freak in this one, but he’s soooo nice about it and he’s soooo thankful that you’re letting him be a complete pervert who can get away with waking you up by stroking his cock over your face. 

32. 🌶 Smile for the Camera by @thus-spoke-lo 

This one broke my heart and turned me on at the same time, I give it a full five stars. It’s a short and sweet one-shot where Sanji breaks down all your walls and then does the same to your trust in men…enjoy!

33. 🌶 Compliments to the Chef by @thus-spoke-lo

I realize only now that this fic and Smile for the Camera are by the same author. That’s not gonna stop me from reccing this little series, too–in the notes on Tumblr you can see that this was written for a “sleazeball collab”, which should tell you something about Sanji’s characterization. While reading this I felt like that lady in the comic about sexual harassment on the workplace…like yeah maybe I would be okay with it if the guy was hot enough. And by workplace I mean a shitty restaurant, and by guy I mean Sanji in the role of the line cook who smokes too much and is very transparent about wanting to bang you on the counter where lunch service is prepared.

34. 🌶 Use me by moosetracksandscenechanges

This fic! My God! I’m adding it here not because there are hard kinks or morally dubious dynamics between the characters, but I still think it fits. It has its sad moments due to a generally darker atmosphere and a more aloof version of Sanji (not that aloof, still recognisably himself)...but also he willingly gets tied to a bed. Sub Sanji lovers stay winning. My hopeless romantic heart hopes that Sanji and the reader will actually get together, but there’s a lot to love about the fwb dynamic they’ve got going on right now. A bittersweet read in the best way.

35. Conjugate the Ways by @secretwritingspot

Oh, Sanji has a foul mouth in this one, but he’s speaking French so he’s forgiven…also the reader has no idea what the hell he’s saying to her. It’s creepy in a cute way! The fic doesn’t include actual smut, it’s just Sanji fantasizing out loud about the things he wants to do with you, but if you’re in the mood for some good ol’ sexual tension, give it a read.

36. 🌶 Ma chérie by marriedtosanji

He lied to you! About being French, of all things! I would never forgive him. He’s really good in bed though, so he makes up for it. The smut here is so delightful it does a 180% and goes back to breaking my heart over the fact that I’ll never meet a cute stranger in a bar who wants to seduce and is also Mr. Sanji Onepiece himself. 

Voyeurism

I swear this isn’t even in my top 10 kinks, I guess that Sanji’s character simply inspires a lot of authors to put him in situations where he’s staring. Watching. Ogling. Observ–you’ve got the gist of it. 

37. “It’s entirely too obvious [...]” by @ofallthingsnasty

[giggling and kicking my feet] the reader makes Sanji sweat cold in this one…I love when he’s nervous, I love when he’s desperate for forgiveness! He doesn’t do anything bad, but the fic is all about him watching the reader eat and obviously liking it a bit too much. The mood is suggestive but overall it stays pretty innocent until the end.

38. 🌶 Voyeurs by snackshack

Thank you Zoro and Nami for your help in making this happen, we couldn’t have done it without you. Sanji and the reader are in a freak4freak relationship, a match made in Heaven. Very good smut and a delicious premise!

39. 🌶 Perversion by glossyjoonie

@Sanji: babygirl you suck ♥ Short and sweet fic part of a larger collection (there are other Sanji-focused chapters, check out those ones, too!) where Sanji gets caught spying on all his favourite ladies: Nami, Robin, and you. Robin sticks around for a while in this one, but in the end the reader is the one who shows Sanji what happens to boys who misbehave.

40. 🌶 Just Between Us by @mytanuki-kun

This man is always spying on you in the shower, in bed, from behind a bush or whatever…it’s about time he gets a taste of his own medicine. I adore this fic, I remember reading the first chapter and hoping the author would update as soon as possible because I was hooked. Sanji catches you ogling him in secret and he plays into it cause he’s a horny bastard and the love of my life. The writing is incredible and Sanji’s characterization is so, so dreamy and sexy and adorable.

That’s all, folks. You have enough material to survive a nuclear war, you can spend many happy decades closed in your bunker eating canned food and reading reader insert One Piece fanfiction. 

My final, desperate request is this one: does anyone have the link to a Sanji fic where he’s 40 years old and he hired a babysitter (you) for his kid, but then one night the kid is somewhere else and you two end up hooking up? Please? Pretty please? I think it was part of a collection or series but I can’t find it anywhere!