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storiesforallfandoms · 4 hours

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icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn

word count: 3688

request?: no

description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him

pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.

And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.

I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.

"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.

I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.

I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.

Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.

I am not joking.

Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.

Obviously, that had changed.

Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."

Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.

I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.

But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.

Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.

As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.

My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"

I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.

But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.

"That's...um...my hoodie."

I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.

"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.

"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."

I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.

"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."

I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?

I just shrugged in response.

My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.

But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."

There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.

It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."

"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.

But of course, luck was not on my side.

Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."

Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."

"Just...please, (Y/N)."

And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.

It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.

I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.

Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.

I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"

He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"

I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."

He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."

So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.

"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."

I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."

"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"

"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."

Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "

"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."

He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."

He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "

He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.

I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."

He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.

~~~~~~

As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.

Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.

Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.

I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.

On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.

"Must be an interesting novel."

I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"

"I just got back from filming."

"Good for you."

"I...I was hoping you were home."

"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."

"(Y/N), can we just talk?"

I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."

"We broke up!"

I stopped. "What?"

"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"

"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."

Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.

I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.

"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."

"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."

I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"

"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."

"I would've taken a break," I told him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."

"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."

I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.

"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."

He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"

"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."

We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.

"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."

"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."

I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #one shot #rpf #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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hereforb99 · 6 months

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They wore matching outfits to a baseball game. 🥹❤️

#lee dong wook #gong yoo #they're boyfriends you can't change my mind #also hyun bin and son ye jin were sitting in front of them #so it's a double date

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batsplat · 2 months

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if you could change the outcome of any 3 motogp races (the outcome of the championship doesn’t change regardless tho) which ones would you chose?

one of those asks that immediately made me forget every single race I've watched in my life. it's a tough one, especially with the championship thing... I'm gonna add another criterion here and say nothing to do related to injury/death

so... I came up with one quite quickly, then got stuck, then came up with a second and got even more stuck. I'm quite reluctant to change any 'plot-relevant races' in the context of specific careers and rivalries, plus I'm ideologically opposed to stealing any win off a non-alien and giving it to an alien. which then kinda left me?? well. stuck. I don't like these picks but well maybe I'll come up with something better at some point

assen 2018: I simply could not come up with a third race so I'll just throw this one in. dovi + valentino really really should have gotten onto the podium in this race, those were extremely podium-worthy performances, it was such a deeply silly incident between the pair of them that took them out of podium contention. also it's still seen as a classic race and... I don't even begrudge the two beneficiaries for their podium, it's just one where the three best riders that day didn't end up on the podium and I would change that!! I don't even really care that much but also look I had a spot to fill. would've enjoyed the rancid podium vibes, it's what a race of that quality deserved

sepang 2018: just deeply annoying? like, I think it was a super impressive performance, the consistent lap times trick from a 78 year old was very neat, it was cute when jorge did unprompted valentino prop for metronome solidarity reasons, it's one of literally two premier class races where valentino crashed out of the lead so I don't even hold it against him. but... well, that one might have been building to a battle between marc and valentino, and it would've been fun to see that! not least because of location + relationship vibes in 2018. I'd change the result in preventing the crash, don't really care who wins after that point - hey, they can crash each other out if they want. I Just Wanted To See It

styria 2020: bit of a niche one but I remember being pissed off by this so I'm going with it - this should have been mir's win without the bloody red flag. now I'm very sorry that maverick was just having an abysmal time in austria, peace and love to him, I'd probably never step foot in the country again after the eight days he had in that country.... but still, his bike attempting to murder him did ruin what really should've been joan's first win. I'm very defensive of mir's win stats and I was supporting the title bid with zero wins agenda once that looked plausible, but now that he's just gotten stuck on one win for quite a few years... well, again, I do think it's kinda iconic but I'd also let him have two. and back then he wasn't even really looking like a title contender and was still going for his FIRST win.... I was feeling very sorry for him so. there

#//#brr brr #batsplat responds #the way I struggled with this you'd think I've never been upset by a race in my life #idk I do usually come around on most results for narrative purposes? like I can talk myself into vibing with most results #in THIS sport mind u in Certain Other Sports I've spent the last two and a half years screaming crying throwing up #anyway with the alien seasons I'd go with 'change all the technical regulations and start again' but that feels like a different question #I had a few where I was like 'well misano 2008 could've been more interesting if casey hadn't crashed'#or 'the 2009 title fight would've had a more exciting conclusion if jorge hadn't crashed phillip island 2009'#but like... both those mistakes are kinda interesting? also in that era there's no guarantee you'd actually get an interesting race #I had a moment where I was thinking 'oh but you could give sete a win post-2004' and... no? sorry but no #scrolled through all the results from 2000 to 2005 and went 'no these are all Perfect Actually'#I mean maybe I'd steal melandri's wins but that also seems incredibly petty. valentino levels of petty. can't do that #also was thinking mugello 2016 give valentino a functioning engine but that IS already a classic race so I won't touch it #or sachsenring 2012 would've been more fun if casey had not crashed but well. idk it's notable he DOES crash. kinda juicy #or silverstone 2015 marc's crash but to me 2015 is quantum locked like you can't really touch anything there #le mans 2017 pissed me off at the time but also. *shrug* whatever #jerez 2018 + catalunya 2019 were annoying because they ruined an already dire title fight picture #but I can admit how funny those were. especially catalunya #I do also think it's a little bit funny how jorge STILL gets shit over it like that one doesn't have an expiration date I fear #still gets referenced SO regularly. poor jorge

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ayakashibackstreet · 2 years

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You are not immune to nosey aunties trying to dictate how you live your life and commenting on your life choices...........

#Christmas time sure is a thing #anyways you know how it is #the wishes I received from her were like 'may you be healthy and also have luck in love matters'#auntie I literally cannot tell you how lucky I am in those matters (<- ace aro and single and very very happy about it)#please stop #auntie please stop you yourself don't have children why do you say that I will yet 'change my mind'#anyways my grandma was valid here #she pointed out that there's at least one person who didn't have children in every generation of our family she can think of #and that there's at least one that didn't get married too (sometimes the two intersect sometimes they don't)#so that maybe I'm just keeping the family tradition alive lol #yes yes that's it I'm That Guy exactly #but GOD the gossiping about my dad's twin sister #who also didn't have married and doesn't have children and just doesn't seem to do dating #and about how they 'can't figure her out' and all #leave auntie Ania alone #anyways I'm growing old surrounded by rabbits and my friends and that's final #when my mum gets sad about grandchildren I'll just shove a bunny into her face #anyways I'm feeling like playing Touhou and I miss Miko so I think I'm gonna try to 1cc Ten Desires again #I'm way too rusty to do it just like that but hey #maybe easing back into playing Touhou with a game that's relatively easy and that I've beaten before is a good idea

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ozzgin · 8 months

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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

#yet another parody I'm so sorry #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere obsession #obsessive love #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

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hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him.

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened?

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough.

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop.

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes.

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him.

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was.

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again.

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again.

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table.

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world.

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms.

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst

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myfeetrcolddd · 4 months

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Boundaries? Never heard of them.

Growing up with Theo had desensitized you to things, like how he was always holding your hand, or how he insisted on cuddling anytime you were to sit down on a couch together, or how he would kiss you on the cheek hello or goodbye, except the kiss was hardly on your cheek and right at the corner of your mouth.

Sure, you were aware how the relationship between the two of you was not the average one of two best friends, but you didn't really mind it. You had gotten used to it, it felt weird to even think about things between the both of you being any different.

It was only when Theo got a girlfriend did you realize things would have to change, much to your dismay, and to Theo's too apparently.

"What'd you mean I can't hold your hand anymore?" Theodore looked taken nearly offended as he said those words, his face twisting in confusion and distaste.

"Theo, you have a girlfriend now." You say, wrapping your arms around your middle uncomfortably. "We can't just hold hands all the time, or at all."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Next thing I know you're going to tell me we can't cuddle during movie nights or when I sleep over."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" You exclaim, tired from having to reiterate the same thing over and over. "And from now on we shouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed at sleep overs, if your girlfriend would even be comfortable with us having sleepovers"

"You're being ridiculous, Angel, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"I'm being serious, Theo, I'm setting boundaries now that you've got a girlfriend, and another thing on that list is calling me Angel." Theodore frowned harder(if that was even possible) looking taken aback by your words and down right offended.

"Boundaries? Not calling you a name I've called you since we were kids?" Theo took a step closer, which was really a problem since he had already been to close to begin with. Now he towered over you more than usual, bringing his hands up he rested them on your neck, his thumbs coming up over your jaw as he held your face close to his. His eyes were narrowed and scanning your face as though looking for something, "Has someone casted a charm on you? Maybe some potion. Either way, you're being weird and I don't like it."

"I'm being weird?! I'm not being weird!" You insisted, and you knew you should shove his hands off you, push him away or take a step back...but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You'd always liked his touch much more than a friend should. "Y-you're the weird one! Thinking we could continue as we are while you have a girlfriend."

"Why would we change anything?" He asked, as though he was truly confused. "I like the way things are between us."

"Well I can't imagine your girlfriend likes the way things are. I'm sure that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't like how things are." You had mumbled the last part under your breath, an after thought to your previous sentence, still Theo heard it and his confusion and annoyance turned to something darker.

"Boyfriend?" He questioned, his voice low and more gravely that usual. "What's you having a boyfriend got to do with anything? You, you don't have one do you? No boy here is good enough for you, and I wouldn't change my ways for some sleaze like him."

Theos words had been harsh, a sharp edge to them as he spoke, he'd never spoken like that before, at least not to you. It was odd, he seemed mad at the thought of you having a boyfriend, outraged even, the emotions just simmering beneath the surface.

"No, Theo, I don't have a boyfriend," He looked to deflate a little at this, relaxing slightly, "It's not like I could have gotten one anyway, everyone thought we were dating from the way we acted, and it didn't help that you practically growled at any guy that would try to come up to me." You scoff, annoyed but Theo seemed the opposite, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.

"Was that so bad though? It's not like any of them were good enough for your attention anyways." His hands slid from your neck down to your waist as he seemed to pull you closer.

"Look, we're getting off track. We need to set some boundaries." You press your hands against his chest and push him off you gently, he seems to allow this and walks back a few steps before taking a seat on the edge of your bed and staring up at you. You blushed slightly from the way he was looking at you.

Theo groaned and rolled his eyes, "I still don't see why we need those."

"Because you have a girlfriend for crying out loud!" You say, exasperated form having to repeat yourself, "How would you feel if your girlfriend, the girl you like, had a friend that was overly touchy and clingy and borderline cheating on you with him?"

This seemed to stump him, "The girl I like?" He muttered to himself, then his eyes trailed back to you and his jaw clenched. "No...no I wouldn't like that at all."

"See! That's what I mean. That's likely what your girlfriend is feeling about how we are with each other." But Theo didn't seem like he was really listening at this point.

Inside his head, a switch had flipped for him and he realized something. His eyes widening, lips parting, and cheeks heating up slightly and he turned to look up at you through his eye lashes.

"Shit." He murmured, staring at you and his pupils seemed to dilate. It was like he was seeing you in a whole new light, you were as beautiful as you ever were, the same angel he thought you were all those years ago, but now he realized it was so much more than looked with you. And he was stupid to think this was how best friends were with each other.

Really, could he be any more daft? Standing up, he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting it's prey. He didn't stop until he was closer than before, his hands cradling your head on each side and pulling you close.

His face was right above yours, your noses nearly touching and your breaths mingling. "I'm an idiot." He muttered, his eyes getting lost in yours. "A stupid and blind idiot." His forehead dropped down to yours and he closed his eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Before you could register what was going on his lips were on yours, his hands holding your head tightly against his as he kissed you. You had tried your best not to give in, but you couldn't help yourself because it was the one boy you had liked all your life, finally kissing you, and like his life depended on it at that.

So, you kissed him back, arms twining around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer. One of your hands threaded through the hair on the back of his head and you gripped it tightly and he groaned before kissing you harder.

Then, as fast as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away, cheeks blotchy and red and pupils so big you could hardly see the blue green color of his eyes. "I'm going to fix this. Then I'll be right back." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, "Don't leave." And then another kiss and then he was gone, your dorm door slamming shut behind him as you stood in stunned silence.

A hand lifted to your face and I gently touched your lips, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and your mind was reeling. That wasn't how things were supposed to go...at all.

#imagine #theodore nott #not edited #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n #hogwarts #harry potter #hp fanfic #fanfic

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mirohlayo · 6 months

Text

LITTLE SPOON

( Lando is always the big spoon, so you decided to reverse the roles. )

warning : fluff and fluff and fluff

note : lando who says he never tried to be the little spoon in the chicken shop date video gave me this absolutely cute idea 🥹

word count : 1.3k

It was a pretty busy and stressful day for Lando. Free practice on the Australian circuit was very intense. Despite the fact that these tests went rather well, the fact remains that the curly-haired driver had only been waiting for one thing since this morning: to rest with his girlfriend in his arms.

This day exhausted Lando to the point where he couldn't think of anything other than throwing himself on you and cuddling you until you fell asleep, in each other's arms. The only thing he needs now is to see your pretty face and snuggle up to you.

So, while you were lying on the large double bed that reigned in your hotel room, you absentmindedly watched the television hanging on the wall opposite. You stayed almost all day in the paddock, and more particularly in the garage to support your boyfriend. But the fatigue was much more present and Lando encouraged you to rest at the hotel.

You waited patiently for your lover, because you too knew that he desired your presence just as much as you desired his. And in a fairly short space of time, you see your favorite driver suddenly appear in front of you, leaning against the door frame.

He can't help but smile at the sight of you. He missed seeing your pretty face, and your magnificent smile that you currently wear on your lips. You're just adorable and Lando only wants to cover your face with thousands of kisses.

“Hey baby” He approaches the bed, to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “How did the free practice sessions go?” You ask him curiously, but instead of receiving an answer he places another kiss on your cheek. "I don't want to talk about that. My beautiful girl is here just for me so I want to focus all my attention on her".

He smiles at you like a child, before changing into more comfortable clothes. He then comes back to you again, and without further delay he jumps into bed to take you in his arms. However, you intercept his gesture and step back, leaving him with his arms wide open, empty without the presence of your body.

He frowns, somewhat hurt by your gesture. You give him a comforting smile, before opening your arms too. “Now it’s your turn to be the little spoon.” You nod for him to come and snuggle against your body, but he continues to display a perplexed expression.

"No, I've always been the big spoon. I've never been the little spoon so why should I be now?" He tries to convince you to keep your usual roles, namely you in his arms while he comes to hold you tightly against his chest.

You widen your eyes, surprised. "What? You've never tried to be the little spoon before?" You ask quite surprised. He shakes his head no. "I've always played the role of the big spoon. I prefer it." It's your turn to frown now. "Well it's the perfect time to switch roles. I'm going to be the big spoon and you the little one, okay?"

Lando remains skeptical for a moment, preoccupied with the idea of being the little spoon. He loves having you safe and warm in his arms, being able to hold you a little tighter every minute against him, being able to admire your face as you relax in his embrace. If he becomes the little spoon, he won't be able to do that.

Finally, he shakes his head and leans back, crossing his arms. "No. If I was the little spoon I wouldn't be able to have you in my arms, and I don't like that." You have the impression of seeing him pout and this vision makes you smile stupidly. However, you roll your eyes, exhausted by his perhaps a little too dramatic reactions.

"Baby, if you don't try to be the little spoon you'll never know what it's like to be one. I assure you the feeling is so good, you should really try." You try to make your softest eyes at him to convince him to change his mind. “You could at least do that for your girlfriend right?” You look at him begging.

He stares at you with narrowed eyes, still somewhat skeptical. But your puppy dog face and your desire to hold him are too much for him. He can't resist his girl's desires, because after all, you're the priority and he can never say no to the person he loves most in the world.

He sighs before letting go. “Okay, I can try being the little spoon.” You jump with joy and excitement as he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. You lay back down on the mattress and open your arms again, now forcing him to come into your embrace.

He smiles mischievously at you before finally collapsing into your arms, trying to snuggle as close to your body as he can. Your arms come around and hug him tightly against your body, while he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. His curls tickle the skin of your neck, while you let out some giggle.

After finally finding the most comfortable position, you feel your boyfriend relax in your arms, randomly placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck or on your shoulders. You play with his hair, wrapping a few curls around your finger or lightly pulling on it to make it bounce.

He lets out a small groan of pleasure, nestling a little closer against you, as you gently caress his back. You lower your head to admire him. He really seems like a helpless child, who just needs love and comfort. It's just adorable.

You giggle, which makes him raise his head to look into yours with his beautiful gaze. "What ?" He asks, completely lost. You hold back another laugh. "Nothing. You're just really adorable and cute, baby" He blushes violently at your words, as he nuzzles his head against your neck again to hide his pink cheeks. "C'mon, you don't need to hide. You know I like it when you blush"

He groans again before lifting his head to return his gaze to your face. You place a kiss on his cheek, while his eyes narrow, a sign that he is smiling. “So, do you prefer to be the little spoon or the big spoon ?” You finally ask. He pauses, taking time to think.

"Hmm... The big one. I like feeling you safe and warm in my arms. And what's more, I can admire the beauty of my baby" You raised your eyebrows slightly. “So you don’t like being the little spoon?” "That's not what I said" He said in defense, before diving his head back against your neck.

You end up falling asleep in each other's arms, Lando comfortably ensconced in your embrace as he smiles at the touch of your hand stroking his back and the other coming to play with his hair.

However, what you won't know is that he secretly admits that he loves being the little spoon. To feel your arms around him, to smell your sweet perfume, to feel your gentle caresses and your hands in his hair, to simply feel loved and safe in your arms. He'll never admit it but he loves this feeling more than anything in the world.

So after this day, this change of role, you will find him becoming the little spoon much more often than you thought. He will no longer be able to stop himself from coming to snuggle up against you, from nestling his head in the crook of your neck and leaving hundreds of kisses there, because after all there is no doubt about it : he secretly prefers be the little spoon.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 imagine #lando norris fluff

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wifeyoozi · 4 months

Text

mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill

w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.

it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.

you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.

"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"

"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.

you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.

wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.

meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.

"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."

wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."

"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.

"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.

"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.

you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.

"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"

mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"

"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"

"i-i never said that!"

"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.

"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone

"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.

"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.

you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.

fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.

"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.

you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.

it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."

you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.

"mingyu, take off her clothes."

mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.

"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.

wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"

you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.

wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.

wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."

mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.

"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --

oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.

wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.

you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.

"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.

wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.

it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.

wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.

"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."

you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.

"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.

the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."

he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.

wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"

wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.

you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.

it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.

unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.

"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.

"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."

mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."

mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.

you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.

you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.

the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.

"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."

mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.

you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.

you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.

mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.

you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.

"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"

"it could be, if you like."

"i think i'd like it, it be great."

"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.

"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.

1K notes · View notes

thedivinetarot · 21 days

Text

Light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul [Pt.2]

Who is your future spouse?

☆ How to chose the perfect pile for you?

1) Close your eyes.

2) Clear your mind.

3) Take a deep breathe.

4) Ask the question in your head. And open your eyes. The pile you are drawn to the most is your pile.

☆ Note:

- This is a general reading. So, please take what resonates with you.

- Please, Please and I will say it again PLEASE DO NOT think of anyone. Not your EX or crush or EVEN someone you are currently dating. This reading about your future spouse.

- Also the energy is not set in stone. So don't be surprised if your choice change after a period of time.

Lots of love

Arya

Pile 1 - Eternal kiss

Your current energy:

I see that this pile is feeling trapped and lacking something. Pile one I feel like you lack clarity regarding a situation in your life. I'm not really sure whether it is love, or work or even spirituality. I feel like this pile is paralyzed. They are trying to find clarity about something, but you can't even put your finger on. I feel like you are looking forward. You are between the past and the future. I think this pile have been dealing with something and when they found their clarity they are now ready to move on. I see that this pile are deciding whether to stay or leave this chapter and letting go of that situation. You've been trapped into that situation for a long period and now you are choosing to move on and close that chapter. You have succeeded in fighting the demons in your head. You have done the right work, you are taking care of everything. I salute you pile one. At the beginning of this reading, you were confused, paralyzed and you lack clarity but then you realized that the situation doesn't really deserve the energy you are pouring into it. I see that after you healed yourself and closed the chapter you finally received the blessings from the universe. This pile’s energy is sooo great! Guys I feel like the things you manifested are on the way. They are coming so soon especially if you are manifesting clarity or news regarding something. The universe is going to show it to you in the weirdest way. So, be open.

Who is your spouse (personality)

I see that this person is very defensive. To be honest if you are someone with high masculine energy this person is your opposite. He have a very feminine energy. He is nurturing, sweet and motherly. I see that this person is explosive. This might be something negative about him. Or he catastrophically; changes a lot. He might be pluto dominant or scorpio in his big three. I see cancer and Capricorn too, so take what resonates. People with pluto dominant changes a lot internally. I see also that this person is lazy? Or slow? I see that this perosn might be working in a bad job or he hates his job honestly. Like this job gives him a lot of money but he doesn't really like it since there’s a lot of pressure on him. This person like to work in groups or he is an extrovert. I see that he might be insecure physically OR possessive. Again I see that he is so wise and Intelligent. I see a lot of emotional maturity here. This person really loves to take care of people and help them. You see those men with mbti ENTJ or ENFJ 9w8 in movies? I'm picking up on someone like that. Also there's emphasis on the voice too, he might have loud tone. Very nurturing and sweet but manly at the same time. He might even help you balance your feminine and masculine energy. Oooh now I got it pile one! Maybe in the beginning of your relationship with him (the initial stages) you might think he is lazy, feminine and spoiled. But then he will truly show you WHO IS THE MAN at the end of the day. I see that he is the true gentleman that every lady dreams of. I see that despite his emotional side or nurturing side he knows how to take care of other stuff like work, finances and you wink wink ;). I see that once he commit to you; you'll be HIS forever. This person is not the "Oh it didn't work out goodbye" type of person. No he is "Let's work on it" type of person. He is so reliable. And stubborn omg pile 1 that's wonderful now let's look into his physical appearance.

His appearance

Well, I guess this person is naturally beautiful. He might have brown or dark brown hair with light or dark eyes, take what resonates. He has a very light to medium skin tune. Or even olive skin undertone. Also I see that he might be your type or he might be someone you are comfortable to date physically. You might feel comfortable or like how he looks. I see that his aura make you feel safe and cared for. You see that video on tiktok to a girl returning home late in the subway, she was anxious and scared and then she saw a guy with a calming and serene aura that his aura helped her to calm her anxiety down? He might be like this. I see that his weight is medium for his height to a little overweight or curve. I see light eyes also. Between hazel, green or even light brown.

Now, let's look into his finances.

His financial state

I see that in the beginning of his career. When he started earning good amount of money, people who dated him or people in his life used him for his money. But now I see that he matured honestly. I see that his financial state is very good. Like he might earn above the average person and he is very smart dealing with his finances. You see I feel like he gives off daddy vibes. He might spoil you rotten. Like if you were someone who dated dusties he will come in and swap you off the ground and show you how a real man treat his baby girl. I see that financially, he is so generous and giving. Especially for people who he care for. Like if he cared for you or if you want to know that he truly appreciate your presence he will pay for everything that's what I'm seeing. I see also the energy of someone practical. Very practical guys.

So, when will he come into your life?

I got 2,6,7. So after 2 or 6 or 7 months, again take what resonates this is different for everyone. July and November coming in strongly. You guys might meet in those months or this person is born in one of these months. Guys I see that he might be someone you already know. He is not giving any Ex vibe no I'm not seeing that. This might be someone you have brief encounters with. You might went on a date with them or someone from your hometown or childhood. Could be a childhood friend? Maybe. Or someone you dated when you were in school. I'm picking up on a neighbor too.

Possible placements (U or them)

Taurus, Aquarius, Capricorn, cancer, leo. Also I see Venus, Pluto, Saturn dominant energy. Also I see 2nd, 11th, 10th, 4th, 5th house stallium or his big 6 in one of these houses.

Pile 2 - the engagement

Your current energy

I'm picking up on multiple energies in this pile. So, I see that some of you guys started your healing journey and now you are finally seeing the results. I see that this pile is channeling their inner pain into something creative like painting, drawing or writing. And if not; you are channeling this pain into physical activity like working out constantly, and going out to take a walk. Something like that. I see that other people in this group is my artistic people. You are working on a project, a painting, or a book for others I see active manifestations here. You might be manifesting healing, romance or an Ex. Guys what did I say before about moving on? It is so frustrating! Stop trying to manifest a dusty please. Embrace the abundance mindset. Believe me pile 2 you deserve better honey. That person is not that good for you so don't be delusional about them and do not manifest them. I see that this pile also are taking very good care of themselves. Like you are taking care of your health, your mental well-being and overall your fitness level. Or if you are not manifesting someone then I think there's someone (romantic offer) or an Ex who want to get back with you. In this situation (the ex) you decide whether you want them or not. Please be wise pile 2. The dominant placements in this pile are air placements (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius), Aries, capricorn. Mercury, and Uranus dominant planets in your chart.

Who is your future spouse (personality)

Well, I'm picking on a very taurian energy, venusian. This person might be a Taurus, Aries, Cancer. Venus, Uranus and mars dominant. I see that this person is very practical. His mind function when he thinks about money or money is everything on his mind, he is a materialistic person to the moon and back. It is so hilarious 😂, he is very generous, active physically or energetic. I see someone in a constant motion. Also this person is so handsome/pretty? Yeah he take good care of himself. He live in the present moment, his whole life is the 24 hour in his day. He have no regrets over the past and no anxiety over the future. He is so earthy and possessive. He sees his people, or people in his life as his territory. Like you are his and his only. This person might be your twin flame or soulmate. He might enter your life out of the blue. I see a geographical distance between you two. I see that this person is feeling down lately. I feel like he lack motivation or he feel disappointed because of a problem in his job. I see that he is childish or optimistic. I'm picking up on a volcano, this person is like a volcano to be honest. He might display a poker face but inside he is overwhelmed by emotions. You see Mr. Darcy in pride and prejudice? Like he was madly in love with Elizabeth but she never knew because of the stern face he show her. This perosn had a terrible past. I see that he was constantly being lied or deceived to. I see that he had a very heavy karmic lessons. Especially about deceit or lies, people might have used him because he was naive and childish. I see that he is so nurturing. His only goal right now is to work hard on himself and his finances/career. I see someone who is disciplined too. This person enjoys the finer things in life or expensive things I'm seeing. This person adores MONEY he breathe money. But he is so caring and gentle at the same time so don't worry. I see that he is a little bit insecure about how he looks. He doesn't see how beautiful he is, you see those models who complain about their insecurities to the internet but they are drop dead gorgeous. He is like that.

His physical appearance

Okay, this person and you have a wonderful chemistry together. So, I think his physical appearance might compliment yours. He might have a similar features. You see those people who date but everyone thinks they are siblings? He is like that. People might think you are siblings because you kinda look alike. I see someone with medium height. Curve or chubby. Light eyes (Hazel, green, grey) and light hair (dirty blonde, blonde, very light brown hair) round and cute features. I see that this person look like he is smiling or smirking even though he is not. Or his eyes, it seems like they are sparkling. Straight hair to wavy too. Pale skin, light skin and medium skin tone. This person is not too tall not too short. His height compliment yours. Like if you are short then he might be short between men. And if you are tall he might be very tall compared to men around him. This person's physical appearance might be so liked or desired by people. Or there's something sensual about him. Or he is sexually appealing.

His financial state

I see that this person's family or your future family in law financial state is very good. They might own multiple houses or multiple what do we call it? Mmmm lands? Like not estates I'm not seeing this, you see when we go and buy a piece of land? So we can resell it or use it to build something on it? This person's family have this and he might have inherited from his family. I see that his job or career requires him to travel, he might work in the court or justice. He might work in a lawyer office or he is a lawyer himself. And this job give him lots and lots of money. His financial state is sooo good. He never really faced a rough patch regarding finances. When he was young, he never really had to deal with poverty or anything like that no.

So, when will he enter your life?

I see 3 months and 5 weeks from now. This person might watch you or observe you from afar. He is so sneaky. He might push one of his friends to introduce you to him. I see a social event okay. And you are mingling and chatting with people and friends. So, he use this and come to you. And then this is how it is going to happen. This person might enter your life in June, July or he might be born in those months or his birthday on the 6th or 7th of the month (any month).

Possible placements

Taurus, Aries, Capricorn, cancer. Venus, Mars, Uranus as dominant planets in their chart. Or 2nd, 1st, 10th, 4th house stallium or his sun or big 6 in these houses.

Pile 3 - Wounded love

Your current energy

Okay, this pile’s current energy is so happy and giddy to be honest. I see that this pile are finally releasing an old relationship and healing from it. I see that you are feeling more confident and proud because you finally realized your own worth (as you should baby💋). I see that this pile are dating someone or already getting to know someone romantically. I see that this pile were single, got disappointed by someone and then they healed and now they are moving on. This pile is moving on to a better version of themselves and above all more confident. I see that right now you are discovering or seeing how many romantic options you have. I see also that you are helping someone to prepare a birthday party. I feel like this party is for a boy, young boy to be specific. And if it is not a birthday party then you are planning a wedding and helping the family with preparations. I see that you are so excited too. So maybe the person you are going to date or crushing on is going to come to the party and you are so excited and nervous. I see that this pile are coming out of the hermit mode. After a long time of healing and solitude. Anyways, I see that you are finally enjoying the present moment. You are happy of how things are. You might be someone who used to link their happiness to something/person or anything and if that thing is not around you get depressed. But now you finally detached. And got stronger and more resilient. The cards are very joyful; sooo enjoy pile 3. The dominant placements on this pile are fire placements (Aries, Leo and sagittarius) and water placements (Cancer, Scorpio and pisces) I see that you might have your sun or moon in the 1st, 5th, 9th, 4th,8th,12th house. You might also be sun, moon and mars dominant too. So, take what resonates.

Who is your future spouse (personality)

First thing I'm picking up on I someone very strategic. Someone very witty and smart. I guess this person is someone you dreamed of (you saw in your dreams) or subconsciously you manifested those traits. This person is so hot and sexy. I see that his aura is very sexual. Like people can't really resist how charming and sexy he is. I see that person is very blunt and if not blunt then he might be very honest. Like he is very straightforward. What is on his mind is going to be told to you with no filter. I see that this person is very sure of themselves. They are very confident and rigid. This person is very generous or his energy or his appearance is very big. I feel like he is the type of person that when he enter a place all eyes are on him. He is a seducer and he is not ashamed of that. I see that this person have all the tools and he know how to use them. Not to mention that this man is soo dominant. I see alot of masculinity. His voice, there's something about his voice that make him stand out. I see that this person is hard on the edge but very soft and sweet inside. I'm not sure if you are into Japanese anime or not but he might be a tsundere; which means someone who displays hard mask but inside they are a softy. I don't know why Christian grey came out all of sudden. I think this person have Christian Grey's energy. Dominant and horny. This person is very much like that. You see those dilfs who are irresistible? He have their energy. This person was very controlling before. I see that controlling thing didn't really help him or it drove people away from him so he is now trying to change this habit. This person, really knows how to manipulate things to his advantages. I see that he knows exactly when to shoot his shot and when to hold back. I see also that this person was either an alcohol addict or someone with destructive behaviors. And if not so, I see that this person might have anger issues. Also aggressive, I don't know why this aggressiveness came through but this person is kinda rude and aggressive to people whom he don't like. This person is very swift, he have hot temper. If you are not comfortable with someone like this then you can chose another pile. But I see that you are a sunshine and this person is the grumpy baby who feel weak in front of his sunshine 🌞. I see that this person usually look grumpy, but when they see you they change 180° and become that cute tamed cat.

His appearance

This person is taller that the average. Very sporty. He worked soooo hard on his body. I see that when they stand or enter a room they easily draw attention towards them. I see brown or tan skin. This person is tanny. Anyways, this person is so sexy omg. And his... Ahem is very large or big. I see that this person is dirty blonde or have a very light brown hair or he dye his hair in that color. I see also curly hair, and wavy. Might be afro too. This person knows how to dress well and he have a very magnetic aura. Sexy is coming through again. I see that you might be so picky with your taste in men. Like no one easily is liked by you. But when this person enters your life, he will be everything you dreamed and prayed for. Glasses, I see he wear glasses. He is like a sexy nerd if you understand what I mean. The eye color range from brown, grey, hazel. But mostly brown. This person's shoulders are wide. Very wide compared to the rest of his body. Also I see someone mascular. He is lean and mascular. I see that his face shape is triangle, he have pointy chin. The voice as I mentioned above. His voice is very demanding. Scary, it can send shivers down your spine. I see that he scares many people and he got told that many times. So, good luck with being able to face all of that.

His financial state

This person have a job but it doesn't really pay that much. I see he have money, average wage what I'm getting. I don't see someone rich, no. I see someone who is average. After his first saturn return he will earn more money. His job might require him to deal with children. To be a role model for children. So he might be pediatrician, or a teacher or a children mentor. I see that he is very good at dealing with babies and kids. He loves them. I see that this person work with a woman or under the supervision of a woman. And she pay for him. This person is in the education system. He is educated, have higher education. And he is now a new member in the organization he work in. He still struggles a little with money. But I think when you meet him, he will be in a better place. That's what I'm seeing. They are telling me that he is still a page; which means he is a fresh teacher or a new member in his job.

When will he enter your life?

I see 7 months and three weeks. I see also that you might know who this person is. You might be dating someone right now and if yes then this person is your spouse. I'm not seeing any Ex here. You might know this person because of someone, an older man introduced you to them. And if not then you may intuitively know who your future spouse is. Also, if nothing from the cases I mentioned apply to your case. Then, you might intuitively know this person but your head (ego, rational thoughts) is telling you otherwise about it. I feel like you can't accept the fact that someone like this is your spouse. There's an advice to this pile; believe in your intuition. That person is your spouse stop ignoring it.

Possible placements for him

Air placements (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius). Sagittarius, Capricorn. Jupiter, Pluto, Mercury dominant, Air dominant. Stallium in the 3rd, 11th,7th house. A little bit of pisces. Or 12th house stallium.

Pile 4 - the gifted lady

Your current energy

So, I'm picking up on a male and this male (doesn't have to be) or a person is from 20 to 35 (This age range) is either love bombing you. Or pursuing you continously. I see that you are kind of anxious or blinded whether this person is serious or not. I see that this person is smart. He could be a sagittarius, or Aquarius. I see that this person feel that you are easy to get or you are in love with him that any action he does will woo you. What you feel about him is happiness, you enjoy this person's company and you truly like them I see that you are very daring when you are with them. Or this person make you feel like you have infinite possibilities. I see also that this person knows that you love him that's why I got this energy of surrender from you. You might like this person or even in love with them but you feel like they are distant. And you can't truly understand why are those things happen to you. If this is not the case, then the second energy I'm picking up on is that someone is coming in with a love offer to you. This person is emotionally unavailable so please don't bother to build something with them. I see that this person's main motive is sex. If you are expecting to hear from this person; they will text or call you soon. They will offer you two to meet up and you know (hook together). I'm not really sure if you want to be with this person but nothing really will come from them. Nothing serious. I see that you are not seeing things clearly. This person, might come and present himself as someone good and fun to be around but he is a fuckboy so don't give him anything to fuck. Or if you want to then it is on you 🙃. Also I see that many of you know the motive of this person but are paralyzed by their emotions or how they feel towards this person. Please honey leave that dusty to his momma. You need your spouse not this. Anyways, I see that this pile is considering to travel soon, I see a trip after 2 or 3 weeks, days or even months. The dominant energy on this pile are fire placements (Leo, Aries or sagittarius) and air placements (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius).

Who is your future spouse (personality)

I see someone who is very sensitive. Someone who is really shy and dreamy? I'm picking up on a piscesian energy to be honest. This person can detach and leave any situation easily. I also see that this person have a unique perspective on life. He might be someone who is drawn to spirituality and if not then dark science. Like tarot, astrology, magic, occult, Satanism or anything that is considered taboo in your country, this is a general reading so take what resonates. This person is very spiritual too. I see that this person is carefree and can influence anyone easily. You see those people who are cult leaders? I see someone (your spouse) who can change anyone's perspective about the subject he is interested in. Let's say that you think magic is harmful okay? This person have the ability to convince you that magic is not really that harmful. What I'm picking up on also is that this person is very good at persuasion. He knows how to win any argument. This person is very responsible despite his dreamy nature. I'm also seeing that this person is very fair. He doesn’t manipulate people at all. I see someone who is isolated or you know a lone wolf. A classic ISTP or ISFP; since this person is not so rational or you know not ruled by their head or brain. This person is balanced, or when you meet him; he will balance out all the areas in his life. I see also that this person is currently collecting money or working very hard. I see that when you meet him, he will be already lunching a project that is related to his career. This person is smart too. And if not then wise beyond his age. Idk why I'm picking up on mercury in pisces. He might have this placement. I see that this person is not so extrovert, you can say he is selectively extrovert. He got to chose who he spend time with, very selective regarding people.

His physical appearance

Well, first thing I'm picking up on is that this person look exactly like one of his family members. He might have a twin or look like his father or grandpa. I see also that this person will have great chemistry with you too. I'm picking up on green and hazel eyes, round face or chubby face, someone who is blonde, brown or his hair color is caramel. This person is very sexy and active. He might not be mascular but still he goes to the gym and do the things that most gym bros do (channeling his frustration into working out). This person's face is very baby like or he have baby face or he look younger than his age. You see those people who you think are in their 20s but they are in like their 30s? This person have this thing. Also this person have a sunny aura. Or a golden retriever energy. Another thing is this person undertone is very fair; almost pale. And if not he have medium or tan skin color. He look boyish or childish. Hmmm, I'm not sure if this apply to everyone but this person physically is sexy or hot I mean his body but his face is very boyish or cute. He might have a light beard too. I don't know why but his ears might be pointy? Yeah I'm picking up on a pointy ears too. His hair is wavy or straight. This person's height is between medium to tall, mostly between 5'9 to 5'11 (175 to 180). His smile is very prominent. And yeah guys I think the smell? He use trendy perfumes. Or if not his perfume could be so special it lingers in you thoughts.

His financial state

This person work as a soldier and if not then his effort got used in return to a very low wage. I'm not saying that he is now broke but he was broke before. I see that someone hired him and used his time and energy to underpaid him. You see those people who work in malls? As cashiers or even clean the floor? This person endured that job and got nothing in return. And then I see that one day he met a man and that man helped your spouse to get a better job and even better payment. I see that your spouse struggled a lot financially. His family perhaps wasn't really that supportive of him so he had to work and earn the money. Now I see that your spouse in a better place financially, there's no more debts on his shoulder. And honestly I see that he possibly might have worked multiple jobs just to earn money and support himself. I see why in the beginning of this reading I felt like he is paralyzed and stuck! Because his financial state literally traumatized him.

When will he enter your life?

10 weeks from now, the cards are telling me that this person will enter your life all of sudden. Or if not then there's something traumatic that is going to happen to you and at that time your spouse will be there. He might enter your life after you broke up with someone or if you're not dating anyone then you might witness a divorce of someone around you. Capricorn season is prominent here. So, this person might enter your life via a woman who is a Capricorn or have earth placements. I see also that you might intuitively know that this is your spouse. Or you might be having a spiritual awakening at the time he enters your life.

Possible placements

Libra, Cancer, Pisces, Aquarius, earth signs (Capricorn, virgo and taurus). Moon, neptune, Saturn dominant in their chart or he have sun or moon or his big six in the 7th, 4th, 12th, 11th house.

Post date: 7th/Sep/2024-Sat

*Feedback is appreciated

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920 notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 9 months

Text

PRE ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS * assorted dialogue to help set up already existing relationships between your muses and give them past scenarios to reference, adjust as necessary

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS

we were only kids back then. we didn't know any better.

you promised me we'd be friends forever.

you've changed quite a bit since i saw you last.

how are your parents doing? will you tell them i said hi?

i've known you for years, and you haven't changed a bit.

you've always been like this.

remember the last time this happened?

sure, i made a lot of mistakes, but so did you.

do you remember how we met?

you always stood up for me, no matter what.

i've always had a lot of love in my heart for you.

when i was struggling, you were always there for me.

I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY

i thought i told you to stay away.

you've got a lot of nerve, showing your face around here again.

i really don't want to see you again.

you're supposed to call and warn me before you show up here.

there's never going to be a "next time."

this is the last time you show up like this.

last time i said i never wanted to see you again, and yet here you are.

you can't just show up here unannounced.

you remember what happened the last time you showed up.

every time you show up here, shit hits the fan.

you're putting us all in danger by showing up here.

don't you have somewhere else to be?

ROMANTIC FEELINGS

i'm sorry, but i can't stop thinking about you.

after the time we spent together, you've been on my mind.

can we discuss what happened between us?

the last time i saw you, you were going to say something... and then you stopped.

did you mean it? any of it?

i wish we were still together.

would you go on another date with me?

it's hard to deny how you make me feel.

you've always had an effect on me.

i can't stop thinking about the way you look at me.

GENERIC "I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR A WHILE"

do you remember what you told me?

i can't believe this is happening to us again.

the last time this happened, we were better prepared.

i tried calling you a hundred times, but you never answered.

this was never supposed to end like this.

didn't you see my text?

i know you better than anyone else.

you can't lie to me. i can tell when you're lying.

you're making "the face" again.

you promised me you'd stop doing that.

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cheeseceli · 4 months

Text

When you struggle to eat

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, reactions

Request: reader thinking she eats "too much" and decides to eat way less for her body image, and how the skz boys would react to that.

Warnings: eating struggles will be discussed; reader has body image issues; mentions of food multiple times; use of petnames in Chan and Changbin's

Disclaimer: this was made with the purpose to comfort anyone who's going through a similar situation. If I made a mistake and made someone uncomfortable/aggravated the situation, please do tell me and I'll correct or delete this post immediately, whatever is preferred. Topics related to eating disorders will be discussed here, please don't read if that's something that triggers you.

Bang Chan - is ready to listen to all your worries

‌We all remember Chan's Room right?

‌He's ready to spend hours if needed just to understand what you're going through ‌and where your insecurities are coming from

‌At the same time, he will never judge you

‌So you know he's your safe place

Constantly checks up on you even if he's far away through texts and calls

And if there's someone who's aggravating the situation or making you insecure, you can bet he's gonna solve the situation himself

"Talk to me baby. What's going on in that mind of yours, hm?"

Lee Know - eats with you

Probably the first to realise something's off, considering food is almost his love language atp

Likes to have as many meals with you as possible

‌He usually makes a mountain of food in his plate, so you don't worry about the amount of food in yours

‌And he also runs errands with you

‌Especially those like buying food

‌You don't even gotta ask, he would be volunteering on the first opportunity

‌Also cooks for you, whatever you want

"Do you want to eat anything? I can cook"

Changbin - Hype man

‌Your personal hype man fr

‌Is ready to compliment you in absolutely everything

‌The best part is that you know that his compliments are always genuine

‌What do you mean you didn't like that trousers?? You looked fantastic in it! That shirt made you look even more gorgeous

‌He has known you for so long and still, he always finds something new to compliment you on

But even if after all the reassurance you want to change the way you look, he will be by your side to help you do it in a safe and healthy way

"You look perfect, baby. I promise. Actually, I still don't believe I managed to pull someone so beautiful like that"

Hyunjin - has all meals with you

‌And with that, I really mean all meals

‌Breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it

‌Even if you can't really get out of your work place or your university, he's going there then

‌He just doesn't want you to be by yourself

‌He also always has something to say during those meals

‌News about their comeback, gossip at jyp, stories from his childhood...

He never fails to admire you a lot in those moments as well, never letting you forget how much he loves and appreciates you

‌He does that hoping it will distract you from the food, so you can be more at ease

"Have I ever told you about the time Kkami bit my ankle? I think I still have the scar."

Han - makes you feel beautiful

‌He truly doesn't understand how you don't think you're the most beautiful human being to ever set foot on this earth

‌In his eyes, you were born perfect

‌So, naturally, he makes it his mission to make you see yourself in his point of view

‌Compliments and adores you

‌Will make you feel beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute... Whatever you wanna be

‌Above all, he'll make you feel loved

"No matter what size, you'll always be my love. Don't forget that."

Felix - distracts you

‌With that, I mean that he tries to take your attention off food and body image related subjects

‌Before and after eating, he will always bring you along to activities where your mind can be turned off

‌So many fun dates!!

‌Even during the meals he'll have a similar idea to hyunjin and simply won't shut up

‌Most of his compliments don't involve around your body, so you really don't think about it

"I love this hairstyle of yours. It looks wonderful"

Seungmin - protects you

‌In a sense that no one even dares to comment on your looks/habits

Even if he isn't there with you

‌That because he made it very clear that everyone should watch their mouths around you

‌For as long as he's around you, he will do his best and more to protect you from harmful comment

Also tries to experiment a lot of different foods with you all the time, so you never feel like that's a burden or a bad thing

"Hey, have you heard about the new restaurant close to home? The food is peruvian. We could have dinner there tonight."

I.N - physically reassures you

‌He loves you and every single part of you, including your looks

I believe he was a bit lost in the beginning, not exactly sure on how to help you

‌But even if his words aren't exactly his biggest strength, he still wants to reassure you as much as he can

‌So he does that with his touch

‌Holding you on his lap, kissing all of your "imperfections" and tracing patterns in your skin

‌Anything that can ground, reassure and give you comfort at the same time

"Have I ever told you how perfect you are? I should tell you that more."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're overworked (ateez comfort)

Thank you for reading<3 I hope this was able to help someone

» I won't put the taglist on this one as I don't want to tag anyone in something that can possibly trigger them «

Dividers by @/cafekitsune, images 1 2 3

Thank you so much for the beta readers: @duhgurl @beebee18 @applekiwi3202 @elqivxstxr @mrsunshine999 @msauthor

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delusional-day-dreamer · 3 months

Text

Reflections - e.e

‣ emily engstler x reader

‣ wc: 2958

‣‣ synopsis: emily had no choice but to bail on your planned day together, so you decide to get a little revenge, leaving your reflection as the only thing on her mind all day.

‣‣‣ a/n: sorry this took SO LONG to release, i was a little nervous to write smut for the first time so hopefully this isn't too bad! i'm still working on more fics and hopefully i can still follow my plan to release one a day!

You adjusted the position of your body in front of the mirror, lifting Emily's shirt to reveal just a sliver of your boobs as you posed for your selfie in your lacy thong. You weren't posing for a social media post or anything of the sort, you were just trying to torture your poor girlfriend a little bit.

The two of you had planned a day-long date today, as she wasn't supposed to go in for practice or any sort of team events, but her coaches had changed their mind, calling the team early in the morning for mid-day practice, followed by a workout session, ice baths and checkups with their athletic trainer, and a film session to end their packed day.

Unfortunately for you, the text had come in during an early morning makeout session, causing Emily to leave the comfort of your bed to eat breakfast, get ready, and head out for her long day. Leaving you a needy, pleading mess for her in the process. You knew the change in plans wasn't her fault, nor was it in her control.

You were just seeking revenge for the fact that she chose to leave you orgasmless before heading out, promising to finish what the two of you had started later in the evening.

Grinning as you finally got the perfect shot, you sent off a text to Emily, containing both the selfie and a short text that read, can't wait for you to get back Em. Now, all you had to do was wait for her response, which you knew wouldn't come until a little later, when she finally got the chance to check her phone during a water break.

To your delight, Emily's response came in sooner than you had expected, not even ten minutes after you had sent the text, your phone pinged with a new text. you better find a way to wait, don't you dare touch yourself without me.

You knew that was one of Emily's "rules", if she wasn't away for a game, your pleasure was hers and hers only. And usually, that was always enough for you, as you had no need to get yourself off either by hand or with any of the toys hidden in your shared closet, Emily was always there to take care of you. But today, you found yourself struggling to hold off on relieving the deep ache that had settled in your core.

You swear you did everything in attempt to pass by the time that Emily was gone. You ate breakfast, dusted nearly every surface in your apartment, wiped down every mirror, scrubbed down the bathrooms, ate lunch, cooked dinner for you two to enjoy later, took an everything shower, and finally settled down in on your bed to watch t.v. around four in the afternoon, knowing Emily would be home before six.

Just as your eyes began to shut, drifting off into a light sleep, you heard the front door open as Emily entered the apartment, dropping the keys in the little ceramic bowl you had bought for the apartment and taking off her shoes, walking towards your bedroom.

You shot up in bed, eager for Emily to walk through the door so you could capture her in your grasp and lure her into bed, finally able to relieve the throbbing between your legs. She greeted you as she entered the room, dropping her practice bag over by the laundry hamper before making her way to you, not that you were paying attention.

You leaned in and grabbed the back of her neck, smashing your lips onto hers the second she was close enough. She climbed onto the bed with you, laying her body over yours as you continued to make out, her tongue intertwined with yours as her hands moved up and down, from kneading your braless tits to squeezing your waist, the two of you just couldn't get enough of each other.

You whined as she pulled away from your kiss, she chuckled before ducking her head down to kiss across your jaw to your ear, "missed me that much baby?" She questioned smugly as she moved her lips under your ear, alternating between sharply nipping at your skin, open mouthed kisses, and soothing licks over the trail of reddish-purple marks she left behind.

"Please Em, don't tease. Been waiting for you all day," you begged, arching your chest into her, hoping she would get the hint. She popped her lips off your neck with a smirk, gazing at your needy expression before moving her hands to pull her t-shirt off your body, uncovering your perky nipples, begging for her touch.

Her lips began a trail of kisses, licking, biting, and sucking her way down from the base of your neck to your chest, leaving hickeys at the very tops of your breast before finally latching her mouth onto your right nipple, her hand coming up to twist and tug at the other.

Your hands flew to her ponytail, gripping it as you moaned at her teasing, urging her head to continue its descent down to where you needed her the most. Thankfully, she continued to kiss down your abdomen, stopping at the edge of your lace thong to nip at the fat of your hips. She continued to tease you, leaving hickeys around the perimeter of your inner thighs as you whimpered the arousal continuing to pool within your panties, yet Emily purposely avoided your throbbing pussy.

“God Em, please I can’t take it anymore, need you so bad,” you propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at her as you pleaded, your mind far too hazy to feel embarrassed of how desperate you sounded. She propped herself, perching herself to the perfect position in between your thighs as she finally ran her fingers up and down your lace-covered slit, feeling the wetness that had begun to soak through.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this baby,” she hummed, “Wanna try something different with you, that okay?” She asked as she pulled your thong down, a strand of your slick sticking to the fabric. "You're this wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet baby," Emily rose to lean back on her knees, moving her hands to rest upon your thighs.

“Please Em, do anything, I just need you,” you whispered back, sitting up as you watched her rise from the bed, walking over to the floor length mirror you had taken the picture in. She picked it up and adjusted it so that it leaned against the wall in front of your bed, such that you were now gazing at your own naked reflection.

Your attention, however, was quickly drawn back to Emily, who had now stripped her t-shirt and sweatpants off her body, leaving her in just a plain black sports bra and a matching pair of boxers. She walked back over to the bed, settling against the headboard and planting her feet flat on the bed to take a seat behind you.

"Come here baby," she requested, and with such a low, sultry tone, how could you resist for even a second? You quickly turned onto your hands and knees, crawling up the expanse of your California king bed to kneel in between her thighs, capturing her lips once again.

You took the chance to tease Emily back a bit, taking control of the kiss by biting and dragging out her bottom lip before slipping your tongue back into her mouth, moaning eagerly into her as your hands tugged at the straps of her sports bra.

She didn't allow you to continue for long, grabbing your waist and manhandling your back into her front before you could take off her bra. She traced her hands down your body, grabbing the back of your thighs to rest them over her bent legs, spreading you open in front of the mirror.

"You see how wrecked you are for me?" She mumbled into your ear, you watched as her tattooed hands kneaded at your hickey covered tits, pinching and tugging at your nipples once again. "Mhm," you nodded, biting your bottom lip to hold back the moans threatening to spill from your lips.

Emily, however, wouldn't accept that as an answer. She grabbed your jaw firmly with her right hand, using her thumb to pull your lip out in between your teeth. "None of that tonight ma, I wanna hear you properly, whether your answering me," she spoke softly, beginning to suck hickeys into the unmarked side of your neck, "swearing," she flicked her tongue out to soothe a particularly rough area, the skin already turning purple, "or moaning my name, begging me for more," she whispered into your ear.

Your brain turned to mush at her words, which meant you didn't notice how her left hand dropped from massaging your breast to reach your cunt as she was whispering filthy things into your ear, turning you on even more. A borderline pornographic moan tore from the back of your through as Emily finally pressed her middle and ring fingers onto your clit, rubbing small circles at first.

You threw your head back against her shoulder as your body arched against her, desperate moans spilling from your lips as your hips moved upwards to search for more friction in her touch. Her right hand wrapped around your waist, holding down your bottom half before she quickly lifted her fingers from rubbing circles on your clit to lightly slapping it, not nearly hard enough to hurt, but the pressure was enough for your head to shoot up at the sparks it sent through your core.

"I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, you stop looking and I stop touching you, okay baby?" Emily insisted, her fingers only moving down from your clit to trace your folds after you agreed, dragging her fingers to collect the arousal dripping from your entrance back up to your clit, this time adding more pressure onto your clit.

Your body squirmed in her hold, your mouth emitting a near constant stream of desperate whines, begging Emily for more. "C'mon ma, tell me what you want from me," she murmured, her breath warm against the bruised skin of your neck. "Fuck me, please Emily, need you to fuck me so bad I," your words were cut off by a guttural moan leaving your mouth as she plunged two fingers into your sopping heat, the prolonged foreplay had made you so wet she slipped in without any discomfort.

Your eyes fluttered, as your body melted into hers, illegible pleas, swears, and cries of ecstasy continuously fell from your lips, all the while maintaining eye contact with Emily through the mirror. Her fingers increasing their speed as she plunged a third into you, continuing to pump in and out of you, curling into you with such precision you preened her grasp, rolling your hips forward to meet her thrusts. In the process, the heel of her palm brushed against your clit, causing you to writhe in her arms, all the while Emily ducked her head down to suck at your sweet spot.

Her name fell from your lips repeatedly, the coil in your abdomen was so close to snapping, you could almost taste how close your orgasm was. Sensing this from how tight your cunt was squeezing her fingers, she moves her unoccupied hand up to your nipples, roughly tugging at them while she moved her lips up to whisper filth into your ear.

"Just like that baby... see how pretty you look while taking my fingers, my dirty little slut getting off on being finger fucked in front of a mirror, thought about fucking you like this all day... such a good girl for me," her continuous praise and encouragements, combined with the sensation of her playing with your tits, her fingers curling so deep inside of you, and her palm providing friction to your clit was all too much for you to withstand any longer.

Your moans turned into near screams as you finally came, your orgasm hitting you full-force as your legs shook on top of Emily's, full body shudders coursing through you as Emily continued to fuck into you at the same pace, insistent on having you ride out the full extent of your orgasm.

As your orgasm finally began to subside, your body going limp against hers, Emily slowed the pace of her fingers until they stilled within you. To distract you from the emptiness she knew you felt as she withdrew her fingers from your soaking cunt, she peppered kisses along the side of your face and placed a few gentle pecks on you lips accompanied with soft praises as you tuned to face her.

She brought her fingers up to your lips, shoving them into your mouth so you could clean off your own slick, humming as she felt your tongue swirling around her fingers. After popping your mouth off her fingers, you removed your legs from on top of hers, twisting your body around in her grip to face her as your hands reached upwards to cup her face, pulling her mouth down to yours in a searing kiss, all the while your knee pressed into her core.

You were acutely aware of the fact that you hadn't even touched Emily yet, and as stubborn as she was, you could feel the throbbing of her pussy against your knee, and you would be damned if you didn't get her off after the earth-shattering orgasm she gave you.

Your lips continue to move roughly against hers, attempting to establish dominance and only separating when you tugged her sports bra over head. Your lips met the soft skin of her neck, peppering gentle kisses as you knew you couldn't leave hickeys on such a visible area just two days before her next game.

You continued placing kisses to her chest, circling her nipple with your tongue as right hand reached down to cup her warm cunt through her boxers, forcing an airy moan from her. You were able to feel through the fabric how aroused she had gotten from making you cum.

You paused your ministrations to retract your hands from her body, moving to grab at the waistband of her boxers, the only material still separating the two of you. You looked up at her glazed over eyes, nonverbally checking for her consent. Emily's past relationships and hookups always had the same dynamic, she gave a lot more than she received, if they even made an effort to reciprocate her pleasure.

With you, that was never the case. You were just as concerned with Emily's satisfaction as she was yours, despite her having the more dominant personality, you almost never allowed her to leave without at least one orgasm.

With her approval and the slight lift of her hips, you discarded her underwear, laying down on your stomach and spreading open her thighs to be eye-level with her glistening cunt. "All this just from watching my reflection Em?" You teased, your breath warm against her inner thighs as you sucked and nipped at the skin closest to her center, knowing no one would be able to see the bruises left there.

"Yeah baby, it's all for you," she breathed our, grabbing your tousled hair into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide you closer to her sopping pussy. Even now, she still Deciding she had waited long enough, you dove your tongue into her, licking a long stripe from her entrance up to her throbbing clit, causing her to throw her head back into the headboard as she moaned deeply.

"Right there ma, just like that," she encouraged as you devoured her, running your tongue through her folds to lap at her leaking arousal like a woman starved. You gather her wetness to move up and press your tongue flat against her clit, sucking and lapping at her bud. "Oh fuck baby, doing so good for me," her hips moving up to meet your mouth.

She groaned loudly as you began to hum against her clit, holding her hips tighter as moved down to her entrance again, dipping your tongue to curl into her as your nose moved against her clit, her orgasm quickly approaching from the friction you provided. You moved back up to her clit, knowing just what she needed to be pushed over the edge.

You latched onto her nub, sucking and slightly grazing her with your teeth, humming and pressing into her as she came with a throaty moan, pushing your head deeper into her to draw out as much of her orgasm as possible.

You continued to suck at her for a few moments after, slowly reducing your touch to a few soft kitten licks as her body went limp against the headboard, relaxing fully as you detached your lips from her, rubbing your hands up and down her thighs.

Her thumb wiped the slick that covered your lips and dripped down your chin, grinning at your wrecked state. “Worth the wait ma?” Her smug but somehow genuine demeanor took in the blissed out expression on your face, exhausted from your previous activities.

“Well worth Em, should mess with you more often if this is what happens,” you beamed, only half joking. “Yea right, try that again and I won’t be so nice next time, I could barely make a single shot at practice,” she grumbled, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips, crawling off the bed to grab a washcloth from your joint bathroom. Your reflection had truly served you well today.

#Spotify #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #wnba x reader #wnba imagines #wnba imagine #wnba basketball #wnba #wlw post #wlw #wlw smut #emily engstler smut #wcbb x reader #wcbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #wbb #mystics #washington mystics

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