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velarisdusk · 4 months ago

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Beneath the Vines

Lucien Vanserra x Reader

word count: 6.7k content: [ explicit sexual content, sex pollen (so, dub-con), unprotected PIV, public sex (forest setting), language, rough sex, biting/marking ] summary: Seeking refuge from court politics in a secluded part of the forest, Lucien meets a female from the Summer Court searching for a hidden spring. He offers to guide her, but their journey takes an unexpected turn when he comes into contact with a mysterious pollen... author's note: this idea has been cooking in the back of my mind since i finished the first book back in december, so i'm happy to finally share it :) writing some of his lines and the narration had me swooning i love him your honor ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

Lucien let out a long breath as the sounds of the court faded behind him. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the forest floor with warm patches that shifted in the gentle breeze. He closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rustling of branches and distant birdsong. It was rare to find such quiet moments, free from the constant dance of court politics and expectations. As the tension in his shoulders slowly eased, Lucien allowed his thoughts to wander, no longer needing to guard every expression and word.

His brow furrowed as he mulled over the latest reports from their border scouts. Hybern was growing bolder, their movements more frequent and less concealed. He’d tried to discuss it with Tamlin, but the High Lord seemed more concerned with maintaining the illusion of peace, instead focusing his people and efforts on the upcoming Calanmai festivities.

A twig snapped beneath Lucien’s boot as he began to pace. Rumors were swirling through the courts. Whispers of Hybern’s king sending one of his most cunning generals to Prythian. Amarantha, they called her. The name tasted like ash on his tongue.

He paused, leaning against a tree trunk, its rough bark grounding him. How long could the Spring Court afford to turn a blind eye? How long before the fragile peace between the courts shattered under the weight of this looming threat? Lucien’s gaze swept across the peaceful forest, so at odds with the turmoil in his mind. He’d seen firsthand how quickly alliances could shift, how devastating the fallout could be. This time, he vowed silently, he’d be prepared. Whatever storm was coming, he’d do everything in his power to ensure Spring weathered it.

His ears pricked at the sound of rustling leaves, followed by the snap of a twig. In an instant, his posture changed from relaxed to alert. His hand flew to the dagger at his hip, drawing it in one fluid motion as he spun towards the source of the noise, russet eyes scanning the brush.

A figure emerged from behind a large oak, and Lucien found himself face to face with a female High Fae. She froze, eyes wide, clearly not expecting to encounter anyone else in this secluded part of the forest. Lucien’s grip on his dagger loosened slightly as he took in the unexpected sight before him. The female stood there, clearly startled, holding a woven tote bag over one shoulder. Her hair flowed slightly in the wind, and she wore a sheer, cream-colored crochet cover-up that did little to conceal the black swimsuit underneath. The ensemble was revealing for a trek through the forest.

“Sorry to interrupt, kind sir,” she said sarcastically. “Just passing through.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“How could you possibly know that? You don’t even—”

“You’re looking for the spring, right? It’s not that way.” He gestured to his left, far ahead. “It’s hidden, and not in the direction you were headed.”

She crossed her arms, clearly skeptical. “And you know this because…?”

Lucien chuckled softly. “Because I’ve spent more time exploring these woods than I’d like to admit.”

She started walking off in the direction he signaled, and he jogged a bit to keep pace with her. “I can show you the way, if you’d like.”

After a moment’s hesitation, came a shrug and a nonchalant response. “Alright, lead the way then.”

He didn’t try to hide his smirk at her casual demeanor.

As they fell into step together, he couldn’t help but notice the graceful way she moved across the uneven forest floor. He broke the silence after a moment.

“You’re not from the Spring Court, are you?” he asked, his tone light and teasing.

Her lips formed a small smile. “Is it that obvious? I’m visiting from the Summer Court. I heard tales of the hidden natural springs here and couldn’t resist seeking them out,” she replied. “And the heat wave made the idea of a cool spring irresistible.”

Summer, he mused. She had a brightness about her, a warmth that seemed out of place in the cool shade of the forest.

He chuckled. “Well, you’re in for a treat. Just beyond those trees over there, through the vines. I must admit, Summer, you certainly know how to find the most intriguing places.”

She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “‘Summer’?”

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Seems fitting for a female as radiant as yourself.”

An eye roll failed to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her soft lips.

“I’m Lucien,” he said, extending his hand with his palm up.

She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand gently in his. “(Y/N),” she replied, her eyes meeting his with a spark of curiosity and amusement.

“A pleasure, Summer,” Lucien said, his voice low and smooth. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across the back of it.

She laughed, a melodic sound that seemed to blend with the sounds of spring around them. “Nice to meet you too, Lucien.”

He lingered for a moment, their hands still lightly clasped, before finally releasing her. “Shall we?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with intent.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Their conversation flowed easily as they walked, with Lucien pointing out various plants and sharing tidbits about them.

“What’s this one?” she asked, pointing to a vibrant blue flower.

“That’s moonbloom. It only opens at night, used in sleeping draughts,” Lucien explained, pleased by her interest.

“And that? The tree with the silver bark?”

“Whisperwood. The Court’s best instruments are carved from it.”

Their exchange continued, with Lucien sharing more about the flora they passed. Eventually, he turned the conversation to her.

“Tell me about the Summer Court. I’ve spent some time there, though I suspect there’s always more to learn.”

“It’s vibrant and full of life. There are endless festivities, stunning beaches, and exquisite food. I may be biased but of all the courts I’ve visited, Summer definitely has the best cuisine. People are already preparing for the solstice even though it’s barely March.” A soft sigh. “But… the constant activity, the heat… it can be a bit overwhelming.”

Time seemed to slip away as they walked, the forest around them a lush backdrop to their discussion. Eventually, they reached a curtain of vines hanging between two ancient trees.

Lucien stepped forward gently parting the greenery. A fine, glittering pollen dusted his hand as he brushed against the vines. He blinked, momentarily disoriented by a sudden rush of warmth through his body, but he attributed it to the day’s heat.

"After you," he said, holding the vines open with a slight bow, trying to shake off the lightheadedness.

Amusement and appreciation danced in her eyes, accompanied by a warm smile as she stepped through the vines. Lucien followed, letting the vines fall back into place behind them. As they walked, a sweet scent filled his senses — warm vanilla mingled with honey and a hint of sea salt. He found himself inhaling deeply, drawn to the aroma.

As they rounded a large boulder, the spring came into view, its serene beauty unfolding before them. The sight before them was breathtaking. A lush, verdant oasis spread out in a natural amphitheater, encircled by towering trees draped with cascading vines. The milky white pool at the center was fed by a small, delicate waterfall, its gentle cascade a soothing murmur that filled the air. Vibrant moss cloaked the surrounding rocks and tree roots, forming an ethereal green expanse that stretched to the water’s edge. Exotic flowers in vibrant hues dotted the landscape, their colors a stark contrast to the predominantly green surroundings. Above, the canopy formed a natural dome, with sunlight filtering through the intricate patterns of leaves, casting a magical glow over the alcove.

"It's beautiful," her words were hardly more than a breath, eyes widening in genuine awe as she tentatively stepped deeper into the sanctuary.

Lucien nodded, his gaze drawn between the spring and his companion. "The minerals in the water give it that color," he explained, his voice taking on a rich, velvety quality that surprised even him. He cleared his throat and leaned against a tree, arms crossed. He watched as she set her woven tote bag onto a nearby rock. Reaching over her shoulder to unfasten the tie of her cover-up, the delicate fabric slipped off her shoulders, revealing soft, smooth skin. The way the bikini she wore fit every dip and curve deliciously. His breath hitched as his russet eyes lingered on her, watching her with an intensity that surprised him.

Flip flops discarded, she dipped a toe into the water, a shiver running up her spine as the coolness contrasted with the warm air. “Oh, that’s refreshing,” she murmured, taking a tentative step into the spring.

The water was unlike any she had ever felt, a soothing mixture of cool and silky, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. She fully submerged herself, the refreshing sensation washing over her as she disappeared beneath the surface. When she emerged, droplets of water clung to her skin, shimmering in the sunlight.

A warmth spread through Lucien’s veins, his pulse quickening as he watched her. The way the sunlight played on her skin, highlighting the gentle curves and the elegance of her movements, captivated him. His thoughts grew hazy, his usually sharp focus dulled by the inexplicable urge to be closer to her. His gaze traced the line of her neck, watching as the breeze gently lifted strands of her hair. Every subtle shift, every graceful motion seemed to draw him in further. The serene pool and vibrant surroundings had practically faded, leaving only the mesmerizing vision of his Summer Court visitor before him.

His…?

Lucien shook his head a bit, a useless attempt to rid himself of the growing intensity of his thoughts. It had to be the heat, it was getting to him.

“You look hot,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Lucien blinked, momentarily flustered as he took in the way her wet hair clung to her, the bathing suit now a shade darker and clinging to her curves. She looked exquisite, the milky white water droplets glistening on her skin like tiny jewels. “So do you, Summer,” he replied, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

She laughed, the sound like a light, bubbling brook. “I meant you’re dressed too warmly for this weather. Why don’t you join me and cool off?”

Lucien felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the weather. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately, as he began to undress. His fingers deftly unfastened his tunic, revealing a chiseled chest and toned muscles beneath. The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast tantalizing shadows across his skin, highlighting every ridge and contour.

As he shrugged off his tunic, he noticed the sticky pollen coating his hand. He tried to rub it off onto the fabric, but it clung stubbornly to his skin. He frowned slightly. No matter, it would come off in the water.

He continued undressing, kicking off his boots and undoing his belt, letting it fall to the forest floor. As he slipped out of his trousers, now standing in just his boxers, he couldn’t help but notice her eyes following his every move.

Lucien caught her gaze and held it, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He had been watching her watch him the entire time, a fact she only realized when she tore her eyes away from his body and looked up to meet his gaze.

With deliberate grace, he stepped into the water, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat bubbling beneath his skin. The spring’s translucent white waters swirled around his calves as he waded deeper, his eyes never leaving hers.

He finally submerged himself, the water rippling around him as he moved closer to her. “Better?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, the playful smirk returning to his lips.

She felt her pulse quicken, the sight of him, all muscle and smooth confidence, stirring something deep within her. “Much,” she replied, a smile playing at her lips.

They floated together in the cool water, the soothing embrace of the spring relaxing their muscles. Lucien watched as she dipped her head back, letting her hair float around her like a halo. She closed her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.

“This place is incredible,” she said softly, her eyes still closed. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

Lucien smiled, his own tension easing in the tranquil atmosphere. “It’s one of the Spring Court’s hidden gems. Not many know about it.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a flicker of curiosity. “How did you find it?”

He shrugged, moving closer. “I stumbled upon it years ago, during a particularly stressful time. This general area of the forest has been my escape ever since.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the peaceful surroundings and the coolness of the water. Lucien felt a tingling heat spreading through his body, no longer the gentle warmth of before. His thoughts kept drifting back to the female in front of him, the way her skin glistened with water droplets, to the curve of her lips when she smiled. He wanted to feel those lips.

He tried to push the thoughts aside, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more intense it became, his desire for her was becoming harder to control, the need to touch her, to feel her against him, was almost overwhelming.

“This spring is said to have unique properties,” he continued, his eyes lingering on her face, her eyes, her lips. “Some say that bathing in its waters can bring good fortune, or help with one’s artistic talents.” He chuckled softly. “But others speak of it being enchanted in a more intimate way.”

This provoked a turn of the head and a raised eyebrow, curiosity peaked. "Well, I never cared much for fortune, and I’m a sorry excuse for an artist,” she laughed softly. “So what have you heard? About the intimacies of the spring?” An almost knowing smile graced her lips.

He swallowed, trying to cover it up with a nonchalant shrug. “They say,” he began, slowly, “that the waters can awaken one’s deepest desires. Enhance one’s… physical urges.”

She smirked at that. “Sounds to me like whoever came up with that got to this spring already horny,” she laughed. At the shit-eating grin on his face, her laughter grew infectious. “Oh, shut the fuck up,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder.

But the touch was searing. He hissed, a jolt of electricity shot through Lucien’s body, his skin burning where her fingers made contact. His pulse quickened, and he felt a raw, primal need flare up inside him. The laughter faded, replaced by a charged silence. Every muscle in his body tensed as he struggled to keep composed.

“Lucien?” Concern laced her voice. She reached out for him, but he flinched away from her touch, bringing his hands up to stop her. Hurt flashed across her face until she noticed… “What’s that on your hand?”

She reached out again, but he pulled his hand back, glancing at the sticky pollen coating his skin. Suddenly, it clicked. He knew what this was, had heard tales of its effects but had never encountered it personally.

“It’s… it’s this pollen,” he said, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “It must’ve been on the vines at the entrance. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together…”

A mix of curiosity and concern filled her eyes. “What does it do?”

Lucien took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He could hear his heart thrumming in his ears and wanted nothing more in that moment than to throw himself at the female mere feet across from him. “The pollen is known to,” he pauses with a sigh, choosing his words carefully. “It causes arousal, an intense arousal, making it almost impossible to think about anything else. It heightens every sensation, makes my skin feel like it’s on fire whenever you touch me.” She could see his chest rising and falling more shallowly, could hear his breaths coming more rapidly, could see his pupils dilate each time he looked at her. He hesitantly added, “The only way to get rid of its effects is through… physical intimacy.”

Her eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on her. “You mean…?”

He nodded, though his regretful expression barely concealed his longing. “Yes, but don’t concern yourself. This isn’t your problem to solve,” he said, his voice strained yet resolute. “I’ll return home and find a way to… handle this. You’re under no obligation here.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched, clearly struggling with the pollen’s effects, but his eyes remained steady. “I apologize, it was careless of me not to recognize the signs sooner.”

With that, he turned, moving to exit the spring and retrieve his clothes. The cool water swirled around him as he took a step, but he felt a hand grasp his bicep, halting his retreat. The contact sent a shockwave of heat through his body, as if her hold would be permanently marked on the flesh there. His muscles coiled tightly beneath her touch, and he had to force himself to contain a whimper that threatened to escape his throat. Every sensation was amplified, transforming the simple gesture into an exquisite torment. He glanced back, his eyes darkening, surprise giving way to raw, unadulterated need.

“It’s not such an inconvenience,” she said softly, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that made his skin prickle with anticipation.

His eyes widened in surprise, but she rolled hers, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “Don’t act so surprised, Lucien.” His name on her tongue sent a jolt of arousal through him, and he only realized now how painfully constricted his cock was. “It’s obvious I want you, and I think you wanted me even before the pollen?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I did. I do.”

Her smirk turned into a gentle smile as she reached out again, tracing a finger down his chest. “So let me help you.”

Lucien’s body tensed, caught between desire and restraint. “Wait,” he said, his voice husky. As he spoke, his hand dipped beneath the water, fingers flexing unconsciously. “You should know… I’ve managed to control myself thus far, but if we continue…” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice dropping to a low, strained growl. “Once I feel you, I won’t be able to stop.”

His fingers curled into a fist underwater. Most of the visible pollen had washed away, leaving only faint traces on his skin, but its effects still coursed through his body. The cool water did nothing to dull the rush of his blood pumping in his ears. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he refocused on her, his eyes full of want.

“The pollen… it’s mostly gone now,” he managed, his breath nothing more than rhythmic, short pants. “But it’s like it’s under my skin, in my blood. I can feel it everywhere.” He unclenched his fist, watching as the last remnants of the pollen dissipated into the vast pool, now diluted and rendered harmless. “You won’t be affected, but I…” His eyes bore into hers, desperation in his voice as he spoke, “I’m burning for you, (Y/N).”

With a tender smile, she closed the distance between them. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. Lucien's breath caught in his throat, her touch igniting sparks beneath his skin. His hands remained steadfast on the large stone submerged beneath the water behind him, as though touching her might shatter what fragile self-control he had left.

"It's okay," she whispered, her breath ghosting over his lips. "I've got you."

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his with exquisite softness. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a stark contrast to the fire raging within him. Lucien's eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the sensation. Even in the cool water, heat radiated from his skin, and where her lips met his, it felt as though he might combust.

She drew back slightly, placing feather-light kisses along his jaw, then down his neck. Each touch was like a brand, marking him, stoking the flames of his desire. Seeing his hesitation, she gently guided his trembling hands to her waist. The sensation of her bare skin beneath her fingertips sent a shiver through him, and he instinctively bucked his hips against her, a long, deep whine escaping his lips like a plea. The sound shot straight to her core.

"(Y/N)," he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips.

A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Not ‘Summer’ anymore? I was starting to think you’d forgotten my name,” she spoke against his neck.

Lucien’s gaze was unfocused, looking at the vines on the other side of the spring, pupils dilated as he struggled to process her words. His breath came in short, ragged pants, and a fine tremor ran through his body. “Forget your name?” he murmured into her ear, his voice hoarse. Each word seemed to cost him great effort, as if speaking required immense concentration. “Darling, it’s the only word my mind can form right now.”

His fingers tightened on her waist, seeking an anchor as the world around him seemed to blur, leaving only her in sharp focus.

The gentleness of her actions was both a balm and a torment. His body screamed for more, for friction, for release from this exquisite agony. Yet he found himself surrendering to her pace, allowing her to lead him through this intoxicating haze.

She returned to his lips, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. Lucien responded with a low moan, the sound vibrating through both of them. The gentle waves of the spring embraced them, their cool touch contrasting with the heat building between them, intensifying every sensation.

Without breaking the kiss, Lucien’s hands tightened on her waist, subtly guiding them towards a shallower part of the water. He felt the solid presence of a smooth, submerged stone beneath him and sank down onto it, pulling her closer. She straddled him, her legs on either side of his, pressing her body against his so deliciously that he couldn’t help it when his hips bucked up hard against hers. She gasped in surprise, the sound mingling with their shared breath.

“I’m sorry, I—” he began, but she silenced him by grinding down onto him, her movements deliberate and slow, a wordless reassurance that sent yet another pulse of need crashing through him. His mind spun, every point of contact between them sent his nerves into a frenzy. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers, warm and inviting. He let his hands roam, tracing the curve of her back, feeling the subtle shift of muscles beneath her skin. The way she moved against him, the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, were a symphony that played directly into the hot coil within him. His hands wandered further, exploring every inch of her, committing the feel of her to memory. He caressed her sides, ran his fingers along the edges of her swimsuit. His touch was gently yet firm, reflecting his reverence for her as well as the uncontrollable hunger that coursed through him.

But it wasn’t enough. The burning within him grew fiercer with each passing second. He needed more, craved more. The sensation of her grinding against him was driving him to the edge of sanity. It was sweet torture, the ache of unfulfilled need becoming almost unbearable. Lucien’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for more, for release — demanding it. The longing was a physical pain, a fire that consumed him from the inside out.

“Please,” he groaned, his voice rough and low, a powerful undercurrent of desperation threading through it. “I need more, (Y/N). I can’t take it… I need you.” His eyes locked onto hers, a fierce determination in their depths, even as his words pleaded for relief. His grip tightened on her waist, guiding her movements with urgency and restraint, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Please,” he repeated, his voice a pained rasp.

“You need me?”

A single, tense nod.

She looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the same need. “Then take me,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lucien captured her lips once more, much more hungrily this time, their bodies moving together in the water. Her hands raked over the expanse of his back, nails lightly digging in. She relished the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her touch, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. Every contour and ridge of his body seemed sculpted for her hands alone. The power in his frame, the way he responded to her every touch, sent a thrill through her. Her hands wandered, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, the firm muscles of his chest, and the tautness of his abdomen. Each caress was deliberate, savoring the sensation of his body and the way it reacted to her.

Lucien's breath hitched as her hands moved lower, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, tracing the edge of his waistband. Her touch was both curious and confident, a gentle exploration and bold possession.

With a low groan and little thought, Lucien's hands moved to her bikini top, tugging it up just enough to expose her chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, only taking a moment to admire them before descending upon them, his mouth eagerly finding her exposed skin. He left a collection of red and purple marks across them, and she couldn't help but hum softly at the sensation.

Smiling, she pulled the bikini top the rest of the way off, tossing it to the shoreline. “Impatient, aren’t we?” she remarked, her voice breathless and not nearly as teasing as she’d hoped it’d be.

Lucien looked up at her, his eyes so different than when they’d first encountered each other not an hour prior, a smirk playing at his lips. “Only for you,” he murmured before his mouth returned to her skin, his kisses hungry and possessive, leaving a trail of marks across her chest. He shifted slightly, the water lapping at his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his shoulder, not ceasing the movement of her hips.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, concern evident in her voice.

He straightened, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s unbearable. Every touch, every breath…I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.” He swallowed hard and brought her hand to the nape of his neck, leaning into her touch as if it were a lifeline.

“Are you sure this is helping…? Maybe we could try—”

“(Y/N),” Lucien interrupted, his eyes wild and craving. “Doing anything but this would destroy me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, but I know… I know that I need you. All of you. I need to feel every inch of you against me.” His gaze locked onto hers, pupils dilated. “Your touch,” he choked out, “is both torment and salvation. I crave it like I crave air to breathe.” Lucien’s hands trembled as they moved to her hips, urging her closer. His fingers splayed across her skin, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between them. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible over the soft lapping of the water.

She shivered against him, not from the water, but from the raw emotion in his voice. She brought her hand from the back of his neck to his face, her thumb stroking his cheek.

“Lucien,” his name on her tongue was so pleasing to his ears. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, lean into her touch.

Her other hand trailed down his chest, his abdomen, finally reaching the waistband of the only thing keeping all of him from her.

“Let me take care of you,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over his ear. Her hand traveled further yet, getting ahold of him, cupping him, squeezing him, feeling the size and weight of him.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, muscles taut. A strangled moan escaped from his lips, closing his eyes and rolling his head back. He dug his fingers into her hips, only vaguely aware of the frustrating barrier of her swimsuit. “(Y/N)...” Her touch, her ministrations, it was all so intense. “You’re driving me insane,” he growled.

A low chuckle emanated from her. “Say my name like that again, let me hear it.”

He obliged, her name falling from his lips like a reverent prayer, drawing out each syllable like a sinful plea.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Whether it was from his voice or the fact that he was tugging her bottoms off, he had no idea. But the sounds she let out were mouthwatering. He watched as she shuddered and moaned beneath his touch, letting out grunts and curses of his own. “Gods,” he rasped, his voice thick. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for me.”

She squeezed him sinfully at that bit of praise, moaning his name quietly.

“Please touch me, (Y/N)... It hurts…”

In that moment she caved, both of them lifting up a bit to allow the other to rid them of their last bits of clothing. She tugged him a few times, grip tight and movements long. He rocked into her hand, a string of curses falling from his lips. Normally he wouldn’t unravel so quickly, but with every sensation magnified, he’d be surprised if he lasted another minute.

“Sweetheart, you have to… Gods, please don’t stop,” he managed to gasp out, his hips rocking eagerly, his face scrunched in concentration.

She met his gaze, her eyes darkening with desire. Nodding slightly, her breath coming out in puffs, she continued, increasing her pace while he maintained his movements into her hand. Lucien’s breath caught, his muscles tensed as waves of pleasure washed over him. He clung to her desperately, burying his face into the crook of her neck to muffle his increasingly vocal responses. His release coated her hand, but quickly washed away into the water as she continued stroking him through it. She murmured soft encouragements all the while.

She felt his weight slumped against her, heard his breathing slow, found herself wondering if it had passed. She held him close, running a soothing hand along his back, through the hair and the nape of his neck.

When he finally lifted his head, she was ready to greet him with a warm smile, but where she expected either newfound calm or lingering distress, she found neither. On the contrary, it almost seemed as if their actions amplified his hunger.

Lucien wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and found himself rutting his hips up, thoughtlessly trying to find her entrance. She gained purchase on a stone behind him, her chest hovering over his face. With a groan, he released one of his arms from around her, using the hand to guide himself. But when his fingers brushed against her and she let out the softest, most helpless whimper he’d heard in his life, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to hear more from her. He replaced the head of his cock with his fingers, shakily grazing over her folds.

Her repeated mantra of “oh’s” and “yes’s” goaded him on, and as he dipped his fingers further through them, he slowly thrusted the still-hard length of himself along her cunt. The caress of both on her sensitive skin getting to be too much. “Lucien, why don’t you just—” What bordered on a wail interrupted her words when he let his tip brush against her clit, the first meaningful relief of pressure she’d gotten there all this time.

“Wanna feel you, wanna make sure you’re alright,” she could hardly recognize his voice, it sounded pained, his words slurred. “Don’t want… to hurt you.” When he went to slip his fingers into her, she pulled them away, moving to seat herself on him.

“Don’t worry about me,” she assured him she was alright. “I’m helping you, just worry about yourself, okay?” But he shook his head, insisting that he wanted her to feel just as good as he did. “I will. I am.” With that, she lowered herself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Their faces were a mirror of shared ecstasy, expressions soft with contentment. They were entwined — she cradled in his embrace, he sheathed within her warmth.

Lucien's world had narrowed to this single point in time and space. Any remaining semblance of coherent thought dissolved entirely. The feel of her skin, the sound of her breath, the scent of her hair — these were the only realities that existed for him now. Nothing else mattered — not the court, not his duties, not even his own name. There was only her, only this.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he tightened his hold, desperate to remove any open space from between them. His thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm, leaving only base instinct and overwhelming need.

“(Y/N),” he huffed, voice rough with emotion. “I can’t… I need…”

Words failed him, but his body spoke volumes. Trembling muscles, racing pulse, sharp breaths. He was a male consumed. Lucien heard her voice distantly.

“It’s okay… Take what you need, Lucien.”

As she pulled herself up, something primal awakened in him. Lucien drove his hips up into her and moved with fervent intensity, his actions far beyond conscious control. Every fiber of his being sang with pleasure, drowning out all else. Nothing beyond this moment.

He was dimly aware of sounds escaping him — groans, gasps, fragmented words of reverence. There was only feeling, only her, only them.

The spring water surged around them, disturbed by the frenzied movements of their bodies. Each trust was relentless, powerful, driven by an urgent need. Lucien’s hands guided her by the hips with a force that left no room for gentleness.

He groaned her name, told her he needed more of her. He didn’t know how it would be possible, in this moment she was his everything.

Her responses were lost in a series of breathless moans and gasps, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to match his relentless rhythm. “Lucien… don’t stop… please…”

The words spurred him on, his pace now frantic. His eyes bore into hers. Every thrust, every movement, was a raw expression of his need, amplified by the pollen’s effects coursing through his veins.

Her nails raked down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. She clung to him, feeling the intensity of his desire in each powerful motion. The friction and pressure were overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her body responded to his instinctually, her moans and cries echoing through the trees around them.

“So… damn good… So tight,” he groaned into her.

She gasped, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rode him, rode the pleasure coursing through her. “Lucien… oh gods… you’re so deep, I can’t,” she buried her face into the crook of his neck. All she saw was the tanned color of his skin, the golden red of his hair, and smelled the earthy scent of cedar and fresh rain, mingling with the faintest hint of smoke and spice.

He shook his head. “Don’t hold back… Let me hear you. Tell me—fuck—tell me how good it feels.”

Her voice came out in broken gasps, each word punctuated by a moan. “It’s… so good… you’re so good... I can't... I need…”

Lucien's lips found her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before he sucked hard, leaving a mark. "Need what, darling? I want to hear you say it."

"Need you... need you to make me come," she confessed, her voice trembling with need. "Please, Lucien... I’m so close."

He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Anything for you, love." His mouth trailed down to her chest, his lips closing around one of her nipples. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Lucien... yes, just like that... don't stop..."

His free hand snaked between their bodies, fingers seeking out her clit. He rubbed in firm, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The combined sensations of his mouth on her nipple, his fingers on her clit, and the relentless drive of his hips were too much.

Her body tensed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she teetered on the edge of release. Lucien bit down gently on her nipple, the sudden spike of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure, pushing her over the edge. She shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that left her breathless and trembling.

Lucien didn’t slow, riding out her climax, his own release following swiftly. With a final, powerful thrust, he let out a primal roar, spilling into her with a force that made stars dance behind his eyelids.

For a moment, they were locked together, their breaths harsh and mingled, hearts racing in unison. Slowly, as the intensity of their climaxes began to fade, they slumped into the water, still entwined, the spring's cool embrace a stark contrast to the heat of their encounter.

Lucien pressed his forehead against hers, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. "Are you... alright?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse with lingering desire and concern.

She nodded weakly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "More than alright," she replied, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "That was... incredible."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through both of them.

She lifted her head slightly, looking into his eyes. "How are you feeling now?"

Lucien took a deep breath, still holding her close. "I still feel it," he admitted, his voice softer now, more controlled. "But it's much more manageable.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'm glad," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "I was worried for a moment there."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his eyes softening. "You were amazing," he whispered.

They lingered in the water for a few more moments, their breaths slowly returning to normal. But the connection between them, the raw need, was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

And then Lucien moved again, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. "But I think," he said, his voice taking on that rough, hungry edge once more, "that we have a bit more to take care of."

She shivered in anticipation, her own desire flaring up once again. "What do you have in mind?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

His answer was a low growl as he shifted their positions, lifting her up and guiding her onto a nearby rock. He took her again there, their bodies moving together with a renewed intensity. Then, he turned her around, bending her over it, her cries echoing through the spring as he thrust into her from behind.

They moved to the water's edge next, Lucien pulling her onto his lap as he sat on a submerged boulder. She rode him hard, the water splashing around them as their movements grew more frantic.

Later, he laid her down on a bed of soft moss, hovering over her as he entered her again. The rhythm of his thrusts was relentless, each one pushing them both closer to the edge once more.

And when they finally left the spring, sated but still hungry for each other, Lucien carried her back to his chambers. He laid her on his bed, driven by a deeper need, something more enduring. There, in the privacy of his room, he took her yet again, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and connection, free from any enchantments, driven only by their desire for each other.

#acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #smut #lucien smut #lucien vanserra smut #i made him a bit of a romantic and i am not sorry at all #also i kinda make a dig at tamlin in the beginning #im not anti tamlin i swear #i was before tbh but he's grown on me

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 5 months ago

Note

somnophilia with John wick from the prompts? 👉🏽👈🏽

jw & fem reader

gif by the wonderful @scarlettspectra. TRIGGER WARNING(s) Somnophilia (from Latin somnus "sleep" and Greek φιλία, -philia "friendship") is a paraphilia in which an individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious. & a bit of exhibitionism

You had waited for him all day. Flitting around the house, cleaning and cooking and making sure everything was in line for his arrival. Wearing his favorite dress, playing his favorite music on the stereo, chilling a fresh bottle of his favorite bourbon.

A month and a half. That’s how long it had been since you last saw the person whose presence gave meaning to your life. So, naturally, you were brimming with excitement, heart pattering wild and strong in your chest, body giddy and jittery—unable to regulate haywire nerves. John was coming home.

He wasn’t often gone for this long. It was an important job. Something involving a very, very rich man paying him to complete a very, very difficult task. Of course, you knew what his tasks usually included, but didn’t like to think about it too much—couldn’t think about it too much…

It was just hard to imagine…your John killing someone. The same John that took bugs outside instead of squashing them, who cleaned up his bar table and tipped more than generously, who always held the door open and returned shopping carts. Who was sweet and kind and treated you like you were made of paper-thin glass unless you specifically requested otherwise.

The text comes in mid-evening, just as you’re putting his untouched dinner away and cleaning up the kitchen. Hey, dollbaby, my flight got delayed until tomorrow at six AM. I’m sorry. Don’t stay up worrying about me.

It’s disappointing, but you have to admit you’re used to this. It just comes with what he does, and you’ll gladly endure it with a smile for him. However, that doesn’t mean you can grant his request and stop yourself from worrying. With a little sigh, you type back: Okay, John. Love you.

I Love you, too.

You try and pass the time; go for a late swim, read a book, snuggle up on the big leather couch to scroll TV channels for movies. Except none of that works to distract you from John’s missing shadow, and you just end up with your head buried in a throw pillow, inhaling his residual scent and pretending the cushion is his chest.

You decide to invite some friends over for a good distraction, and they bring card games and beer and wine. You have your own stash of alcohol, so between you and three of you closest, you end up drinking a little too much and passing out halfway through game night.

John finds you in the icy blue light of breaking dawn, breathing even and slow and slung haphazardly on top of your mattress. The residual burn of spirits heat your skin ruddy, and you have long since kicked the comforter off to leave yourself bare and unsuspecting of the hungry wolf who’s cock fattens at the sight of you—his big tshirt snuggling against your curves, the hint of a panty seam visible along the soft skin of your hip

He discards his clothes into a pile on the floor, too starved for flesh to care about being his usual tidy self, and climbs on the bed to run the tip of his tongue along that delicious cut crease of supple flesh.

You stir and whine, hand coming up momentarily to bat the tickly feeling away, only to weakly fall back down onto the bed, its task lost in the dark deep of your slumber.

With a wicked grin, he moves his mouth down your thigh, licks into the seam behind your knee, then treks a wet path of kisses over your calves. You squirm and kick, trapped by heavy sleep, defenseless under his tongue.

He knows that, by now, you’d be begging him sweetly to make you cum, arching up into his teasing mouth for more, hanging on to his beautiful throw of silky hair as he laps at your panties. Always so impatient, his sweet girl.

God, he missed you. Missed your smell and taste, the way you buck your hips, that little tender space between thigh and cunt that makes you squeal when he flicks it with his tongue.

He nudges your panties to the side to reveal an already glistening wet and swollen pussy, your clit ripe and fresh, ready for his mouth to pluck and taste. Even in your sleep, you’re more than ready to sheath his cock.

He suckles at your folds gently while you stir awake with a sleepy little moan. “J-joh-jjj,” you slurr, gripping at the plump pillows while your cunt tenses and thighs attempt closing.

So sensitive in that foggy place between sleep and wake, with his familiar mouth on you, impatient and insistent.

He holds your thighs open and eats—devours your cunt sloppily from the back, groaning about how good you taste and how much he missed it. “It’s okay, baby, no no no, come’ere, I gotcha. That’s my girl.” Two fingers curled inside, coaxing a fast approaching orgasm from your perfect little pussy.

“Gonna, gonna-ah c-cum,” you tell him, clenching on his fingers, once shy clit now grinding down onto his tongue. You’ve just missed him so much, and it’s been so long, and you haven’t even touched yourself at his specific request, so it’s no surprise that it only takes seconds of cunnulingus just the way he’s learned you love it to have you soaking the sheets below your hips.

“Good job,” he coos, bringing you down with little kisses to your puffy lips and chafed thighs, sucking his fingers clean and closing his eyes against the savory flavor of your slick. “You okay, babydoll?”

“Uh huh,” you tell him, still twitching from the heavy orgasm, eyes threatening to close again, too tired to wipe the little bit of spittle off your chin.

You feel him shift behind you, and then his thick tip press against your still spasming entrance, ready to overwhelm and overstimulate and leave you a babbling mess. His cock is built for your pleasure and demise, and as he enters, invading and pillaging the sensitive walls of your cunt, your eyes fly open and you sob into the pillow.

Something like, “o-oh fuck-“

“Shhh, baby.” His warm touch finds the base of your skull, that soft tug on your unkempt tangles guiding you back into his slow, deliberate thrusts. “Your friends are in the living room, gotta be quiet for me.”

“Y-yeah Jo-ohn.” You try and tell him just how much you missed him, but the words jumble and stick, translating to half-muffled moans. Tears bead at your waterline in submission to that first stretch of his unfairly girthed cock.

He understands your incoherent babbles perfectly. “Fuck,” he growls, tip kissing your cervix, “I missed you, too. Missed this tight little cunt.”

You have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the animalistic sounds of pleasure at bay, as he fucks you. So often, this beautiful man makes love to you, slow and soft. This is not one of those times.

If you could think, it would be about how loud the sound of his hard pelvis clapping against your soft ass is, as he chases that otherwise unobtainable high that only your cunt can bring—that he thought about every single minute he was gone…the reason he’s alive.

You’re sobbing from it all—the way he splits you open so perfectly, the tiny dark whispers of reassurance, the fact that he’s alive and well and all over and around you; big hand pressing your lower back down for better and deeper access inside your cunt.

The way he just knows, even in his own rough desperation, how to unravel you—make you see the cosmos and beyond, into the soupy blackness of unexplored universe.

“You coming again, baby?” He doesn’t have to ask, because he knows you are, more than familiar with the way you unfold and shatter.

“Y-yeah-huh.”

He puts you on your back with practiced gentleness, and cups your sweaty cheeks in his hands before sucking your bite-swollen lower lip into his mouth, managing to stay buried inside you through the easy transition, swallowing your whimpers while his cock works out the final flutters of your orgasm.

“Oh, John,” you say, when he stops licking at your throat to allow the both of you some much-needed, panting breath. “F-fuck, John.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, brushing the sweaty hair off your temples and pecking tiny wet kisses over your face. “I gotcha, it’s okay. Johnny’s here. Open your pretty eyes, let me see you.”

In a deep, stuttering thrust, when you clamp like a vice around him, he loses himself inside of you, and you are with him. Utterly overtaken, love burning through your blood, body singing in rapturous heavenly choir. This is as close to the pearly gates you will ever get, you think, as you float down from the high.

There is a cut on his temple that you failed to notice, and you touch just below. “You got hurt.”

“I’m better, now.”

With him nestled beside you, arms wrapping around and sheltering your body with his own, legs supporting your bottom and cock still softening inside your cunt, you feel sleep creep back up like an old friend.

It isn’t long before he’s succumbed to it, himself, happily snoozing nestled in your hair. You don’t know what he’s been through in that long stretch of absence, but it doesn’t matter now.

He’s here with you, and that’s enough.

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #IV Drabbles

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icantspellthings · 30 days ago

Text

From Official Star Trek Cooking Manual by Mary Ann Piccard

SPOCK LIKES COOKING AND HE HAS A KITCHEN IN HIS QUARTERS!!!!!!!!!!

#star trek #star trek tos #spock #trek cook book

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astaroth1357 · 1 year ago

Text

The OM Cast as Househusbands

Inspired by my recent rant about domestic Solomon.

Contents: Pure fluff and unhinged roasts.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

A-tier. Generally a solid choice skill-wise.

Cooks decent, cleans well, budgets FANTASTICALLY, has a good list of connections/spells for all home repair, and even has a stern (but caring) parenting-style if so desired.

In short, Lucifer can run a house very well. He practically already does! Hope you like having a big, extended family because the brothers are coming with.

Really, the biggest downside to Lucifer is that you'll be constantly worried that he's bored... Man can run a house and then some. He probably has the daily chores done by noon, and then what?

He just has so much extra potential, is what I'm saying. Very "big, beautiful bird in a cramped cage" energy. But then again, maybe making him chill the fuck out and have a low-maintenance lifestyle for once is better for his blood pressure in the long run. Your call.

Mammon

B-tier. He ain't perfect, but he can learn quick.

If you can give Mammon anything, it's that he's a capable guy when he wants to be. He may not be good at cleaning up, cooking, or anything like that on his own, but with some encouragement...?

Big improvements made practically overnight! Shower him in praise and "thank you's" for every little thing he does and he'll start get greedy for it. Then he'll do even MORE around the house and he gets better each time.

Show him how to cook what you like, and he'll never forget. Remind him to fold up the laundry, and he'll get it done. Praise him for keeping the floors clean, then suddenly he's nagging YOU about tracking dirt on the carpet...

And he'll get so proud about it too... Like, he's your first man and you NEED him now. What would you ever do without him?? Now hand over your shirts because he has some ironing to do, dammit!!

The only downside is you'll have to handle the finances... The words "Mammon" and "budget" go together about as well as "grainery" and "match." He'll blow through it and then some. Earners beware.

Leviathan

Hovers around C-D tier. Levi can play the role of good househusband for a VERY particular kind of partner, otherwise he's a lost cause.

He is a surprisingly decent househusband ONLY when sufficiently motivated and playing out his "domestic slice-of-life" fantasies are that motivation.

He can cook (anime-inspired dishes), he can clean (if you convince him to treat the house like he does his figurine collections), he can even sew/mend (though the majority of what he makes may be cosplay related)!

He won't leave the house to shop, but deliveries are fine. He also can't keep to a budget that doesn't include a MASSIVE chunk carved out to maintain his otaku lifestyle. He'll throw a fit otherwise.

Really, Levi's biggest problem is that once those "domestic fantasies" become mundane, he'll get bored and go back to his shows and games again.

Anyone with him would need to keep feeding into his role with new "quests" or different tropes to try out like a DM running an irl campaign. Could be fun for a little while, but it'll be too much trouble for you both long term. Best give him a skip.

Satan

S-tier. Very good choice, and he's proud of that fact.

Cooks well, very conscientious of your needs, knowledgeable on many topics from recipes to home repair, actually knows how to do laundry in a timely manner... a very good man indeed.

100% the kind of husband who sees that it's going to rain, so he treks out to wherever the hell you are to make sure you have an umbrella. Can't have you getting sick.

Get him a cat and the house will become his own slice of the Celestial Realm. He'll even text cute pics/updates on what your cat is doing like they're your literal child.

Only downside is cleaning. He's a book horder and will argue until he's blue in the face to keep Every. Last. Pamphlet. An in-house library is a MUST and expect to need expansions. Otherwise, perfect man. Much approval to be had.

Asmodeus

B-A tier. Another decent choice, just a little eccentric at times.

Asmo is that partner who will happily play the part of the trophy househusband buuut he absolutely won't do anything too strenuous or dirty.

Cooking? Totally fine! He isn't amazing, but he's not awful either. Laundry? Say no more! Your clothes will never have a wrinkle again. But cleaning...? Like the floors, attic, or ESPECIALLY the bathroom??

Nope. Nuh-huh. His cute-ass hair and his cute-ass nails in his cute-ass clothes will not stand for it! He's going to beg for a maid immediately.

I guess in exchange you'll be hosting some killer dinner parties, though! Asmo has that "suburban wife who flaunts her amazing life" energy. Also keeping his influencer game alive with tutorials galore.

In short, Asmo is willing not just to spoil you, but elevate you as well. You just need to give him a little pampering in return, kay?

Beelzebub

B-tier. Most of his problems are, predictably, food related...

Beel really, REALLY tries but you are probably never going to have a meal on time (if there's somehow any food left at all).

It isn't that he won't cooking, arguably, he spends TOO much time cooking because he'll spend just as much time eating! Or running to the store because he ate the ingredients again...

Surprisingly, though, he's actually very good at cleaning and caring for another person. That's because it's what he does for Belphie. You think the seventhborn is picking up their room AT ALL? Don't kid yourself...

Probably a good time to point out that another downside (or perk??) of husband!Beel is you also get Belphie! But he's just as spoiled as ever so... Hopefully Beel's overwhelming amazingness will make up for that.

If you like Belphie and don't mind an empty cabinet, Beel is a good choice. If not, there are better options available, I promise.

Belphegor

D-tier. Shit househusband. Doesn't even try.

Won't clean, won't cook, won't shop, can't fix, can't budget, and don't even get me STARTED on the state of the sheets!!-

He is a decorative plant of a househusband. Meant only to make the room look nicer by his presence. I've seen dogs more capable and self-motivated to maintain a household than this man will ever be.

Should you somehow get him to exert the effort, he will whine and complain the entire time. And even then, he won't do much more than put some things away and order takeout.

The only upside to Belphie is that since he's always asleep, it's not like he's making the house any dirtier. Vacuuming around his unconscious ass is home life now. At least you probably get Beel too.

Diavolo

C-B tier. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.

So... he basically can't do anything but since he's never had to, you can cut him some slack. He loves the idea of TRYING though, so you have an eager student!

He finds cooking to be a fun challenge and he isn't terrible at it. Cleaning is a drag but he likes to see you happy. You'll have to teach anything laundry/clothes related, unfortunately, and sending him to the grocery store without a very detailed list may result in him buying an entire aisle if he doesn't know what to get.

At least he'll genuinely love to hear about your day and have the biggest smile and warmest greeting for you every time you come home. He's like a big'ol puppy, just thrilled with your existence!

(Honestly, if something has him stumped, he'll call for Barbatos to help. He'll try to hide it because he wants to show that he can do things himself, but at the end of the day your happiness wins over his pride. Now let the butler fix your plumbing.)

Barbatos

SS-tier. So good, it's literally not fair.

He's been caring for another person for centuries. He has every possible skill he would need permanently etched into his DNA. He is the Grand Master of Domestic Life that all others should strive for.

Meals are at perfect temperature by the time you sit at the table. The house is so spotless that you could eat off the broom closet. Anything that breaks gets fixed/replaced within the day. He even leaves words of encouragement in the little notes packed up with your lunch. You'll start to wonder if he's an angel who's infiltrated too deep....

Barbs also seems to have a sixth sense for whenever you've had a bad day. You come back dragging from exhaustion? You favorite meal is already cooked, the bath is ready to be drawn, and would you like a shoulder rub on top of that? Feel free to vent, he loves to listen to whatever stories you have to share!

There are only two downsides to Barbatos: the first is that you are absolutely sharing him still with Diavolo and the young master is his top concern. So sorry.

The second is that moment he gets even the hint that there may be a rat in the house, he'll nuke the place with all of your stuff still in it. So keep some traps out and keep'em fresh, yeah? You'll be fine.

Simeon

S-tier. He even comes with pre-installed parenting skills! (If you're into that kind of thing).

Simeon may not have Barbs' "live to serve" mentality, but he is truly an angel to a fault. The man already acts as Den Mother of Purgatory Hall, so what would you expect?

He cooks well enough to own his own business and you can't run a business without being good with your cash. He probably has book royalties too... Plus, he cleans up after Solomon's messy ass in canon, so-

He's gonna be that husband you take to the office party and nobody will leave you alone about him for the next week. People are going to ask if he has a brother or some shit (give them Raph's number, I dare you)

Admittedly, home repair (especially of the electronics he's guaranteed to break) should probably go to someone else. Also, he is a package deal with Luke. That child is your unspoken son now, and you'll just have to deal with that.

Otherwise, he's trophy material. Marry him and carry him over that threshold! He's worth it, truly.

Solomon

I've already ranted about Solomon here. But if you aren't aware, he's D-tier saved only by the fact that he's really trying his best.

800 year-old bachelor be like: "Oh, you're supposed to change those...? They don't smell that bad after a month."

"Of course those dishes are clean! Yes, I can see that there's still food on them, but I washed them with soap. That's what makes them clean."

"What do you mean, 'Don't set the table with beakers on date night?' Isn't this one your favorite??"

"Dinner's almost done, honey! Just let me finish clubbing this octopus!" 😁

Disaster husband. Just leave him to his delusions and get used to takeout...

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ipseitydelrey · 1 year ago

Text

headcanons: dating spencer reid ♡

(i’m so totally normal about this man)

ship spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings mentions of schizophrenia & alzheimer’s

a/n thought this would be a good first post! interaction would be appreciated, but your readership would be enough! enjoy~

★ he regularly gives you books he has read, completed with small annotations.

★ to go with the previous headcanon, you would give him more modern books you enjoy as opposed to the classical/foreign ones he gifts.

★ expect for your first couple of dates to be more awkward (he has definitely asked derek for advice on more than one occasion).

★ he makes it a point to learn all that he can about whatever you like at the moment, even if he himself isn't into it/doesn't understand the appeal. it's mostly just so he can connect with you more and to share fun facts about your interests.

★ he's awful at cooking, but once or twice, he has definitely attempted to cook a homemade meal for you two as a romantic gesture. you both decided that what he made wasn't edible, but you appreciated the attempt and ordered takeout instead.

★ weekly bookstore visits! half of the time you would go to barnes & noble for your literary needs, but you two also enjoy supporting local bookstores (+ they tend to have rare books too).

★ when you two are cuddling, he loves it when you run your fingers through his hair and give him a head massage; it really helps with his migraines.

★ convention is in town? best believe that you two are wearing matching cosplays, especially if the characters you're dressing up as is canonically a couple.

★ spencer doesn't just ask derek; he also asks penelope and jj for advice too.

★ on the first couple of dates he generally avoided touching, but now? he can't get enough of you, how warm you are and how soft your hands are.

★ much like how he tends to go on a tangent, he loves it and listens intently whenever you infodump about a topic you're interested in.

★ antique stores! you both find the atmosphere lovely and you would get gifts for each other there.

★ his love language is praise, both giving and receiving. he wants to make sure you feel loved and wanted. even when it's something small, like getting him coffee for example, he'll go on and on about how wonderful you are, how good you are to him and how much he loves and adores you.

★ on the receiving end, he'll absolutely melt if you give him reassurance that you reciprocate his love. and if you hold him — cup his cheeks or wrap your arms around his waist — while whispering praises? as emily said, IQ of 187 slashed down to 60.

★ the first time he said "i love you" was sort of an accident. he had just come back from a case and he was so tired that he collapsed into your arms and you had to drag him to bed. you were making sure he was comfortable and in his delirious state he mumbled "love you" in the sleepiest voice imaginable.

★ movie nights! whenever it's his turn, he either picks some pretentious, foreign language, criterion collection, 3+ hour film...or he just puts on reruns of star trek or doctor who.

★ when you moved in with him, you both had to buy another bookshelf. both because of the books strewn around spencer's apartment that were unable to be shelved due to overcrowding, and to fit your books there too.

★ he's super worried about doing something wrong. this is probably his first actual serious relationship, so he's being extra cautious to not accidentally insult or hurt you. over time, he learns to relax around you but the worry is still there, just in small doses.

★ he doesn't really like PDA, but he makes up for the lack of it with tons of hugs, kisses, and close contact in private (specifically at home, but anywhere private will do).

★ whenever you two go out and you want to wear formal attire, he'll help you with putting it on! he'll zip up your dress, help tie your tie, fasten your necklace, maybe help with cuff links. he absolutely loves being able to assist you with anything, no matter how small.

★ he was definitely worried when he brought you to go meet his mom for the first time, so he made sure to pick a day where she would be in one of her good moods and also told you everything he knows about schizophrenia and alzheimer's. he was thankfully relieved when his mom liked you and vice versa.

★ a bit corny, but he loves reciting love poems to you. this can also extend to passages from books that discuss romantic love; he has an eidetic memory after all and he's going to put it to good use!

#★ sei’s headcanons #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds headcanons #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #x you #x y/n #headcanon #fanfic

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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago

Text

Mutual Pining

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you are in love with each other, and it's obvious to everyone but the two of you

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Cursing (10x), Mutual Pining, Fluff

Authors Note: Switches between reader and Deans “POV” but still written in the third person | This came out a lot longer than I thought, but I loved the way it turned out! I hope you guys do too! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

For as long as you’ve known Dean, he has always been incredibly nice to you, which initially surprised you given his gruff exterior. Growing up, you were always told to never judge a book by its cover, and things aren’t always what they seem to be; and you had felt that this truly applied to Dean. Despite his appearance (although a very attractive one you had to admit) and his very I don’t give a fuck attitude he sometimes gave off, he was genuinely one of the nicest, funniest, charismatic, loving, and selfless people that you have ever met in your entire life. He was just someone that wanted more than anything to love someone (to be loved by someone) – and craved touch.

He was a catch in all senses of the word: he was smart, sexy, cute, he could sing (well not good, but at least he liked doing karaoke!), he could cook and bake (you were teaching him a lot about baking lately, even though he did already know a thing or two), he was handy (both when it came to cars and household maintenance), and he was a nerd (Star Wars, horror movies, Star Trek, cartoons, you name it). For as long as you had known him, it amazed you that someone hadn’t snatched him up yet. Well, you knew about some of these instances (Cassie or Lisa for example), but Dean seemed to be under the impression that the reason it never seemed to work out with these women is because of the job, or he would blame himself. “I just don’t think you found the right woman yet.” You had told him. This had earned you a weird look from Dean, and since then, you hadn’t given your two cents into his love life, despite being one of his closest confidants.

For as long as Dean has known you, you’ve always been incredibly nice to him; even when he knew he didn’t deserve it. When he had met you years ago, it took him by surprise to find out that you were a hunter given your exterior and extremely bubbling personality and positive energy that you radiated (he would later come to start calling you Sunshine as he considered you the light of his life in his ever so present and consistent cloudy days he called his life). “Just because you’re a hunter, doesn’t mean you have to be depressed all the time.” You had said to him. “But we’ve all witnessed and endured horrible things. Don’t know how you can still be so happy.” He had said back to you. You had simply shrugged stating, “You have your way of coping, and I have mine.” What Dean had initially thought that he hated about you (you being that Ray of Sunshine) had actually grown into something that he would love and appreciate about you.

Something that he always tended to carry in the back of his mind is quote that you had frequently said: Never judge a book by its cover, and things aren’t always what they seem to be; and he felt that your quote really did apply to you. Despite the type of energy that you give off, and despite your colorful array of clothing, you were genuinely one of the best hunters that he has ever met or worked with in his life.

You were a catch in all senses of the word. You were smart, cunning, funny, cute, sexy (even when you weren’t even remotely trying to be). You knew how to cook and bake (he was particularly fond of your peach and apple pies that you had made), you could sing (despite you saying how awful you were, your voice had sounded like honey to him), and you knew how to shoot a gun almost as good as him (in reality, you were probably a much better shot, but he would never admit that). It amazed him that you hadn’t settled down yet, even though he knew that was something that you had wanted to do at some point in your life. “I guess I just haven’t found the right yet guy. Just like how you haven’t found the right woman yet.” You had told him. “He’s sitting right in front of you Sunshine,” he had desperately wanted to say to you.

It was a lazy Sunday at the Bunker, and since there was no cases you had decided that you were going to do some baking today. You had promised Dean that you would him your famous peach and apple pie sometime this week, and since that was something you promised him last Tuesday, you were getting near close to almost falling through with your promise – something that you didn’t want to do, especially when it came to Dean.

Dean didn’t ask for much. So when he asked ever so politely if you could make this for him adding “no rush of course” at the end of his request, you were more than happy to oblige. This man has saved your ass more times than you could possibly count, and never asked for anything in return. So, the least you could do for the man was bake him a pie right?

Walking into the kitchen you were wearing your comfy clothes which consisted of a very faded AC/DC shirt that Dean had lent you they you had never given back (to be fair, he never asked for it back), a plain hot pink sweatshirt, black sweatpants and hot pink fuzzy socks.

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked over to the cabinet to grab everything they you would need in order to make the pie for Dean. Technically speaking, you were making the pie for everyone to enjoy, but you knew the second Dean for a whiff of the peachy and appley goodness, he would most likely hoard this (not that you had a problem with that, you were happy that he enjoyed your cooking and baking that much).

Placing your phone on the counter, you decided to play some music, picking the playlist you had rightfully named “Baking/Cooking Jams” (pun intended), so the quietness didn’t seem so eerie to you. You didn’t like the quiet at times, but you had such fond memories of singing along and dancing along to the music when you were a little girl in the kitchen with your mom or grandma.

One of the things that you appreciated, was the fact that none of the boys made fun of you while you did this (not that it would have bothered you if they did), but you half expected one of them to say something. The closest any of them had gotten to “making fun” of or commenting on your dance moves or singing had come from Dean, and his comments which very complimentary. You were so thrown off, that at first you thought he was fucking with you.

It’s been almost a week since Dean had requested you make your famous peach and apple pie, and there was a part of him that was starting to get just a tad disappointed when you hadn’t made it yet. But one of the things that was holding him together, was the fact that you always kept your promises and followed through with them (it was one of the things that he loved about you. He had asked for the pie on Tuesday, and it was now Sunday. He had wanted to re-ask you, but decided against it because he didn’t want to seem pushy and he didn’t want to bother you with what he seemed to be a silly request. “You could never bother her Dean. Trust me.” Sam had told him numerous times.

As Dean walked down the hallway of the Bunker, he could hear the quiet sounds of your music coming from the kitchen. The only reason he knew that it was your music is because he recognized the current song that was playing as a part of “Baking/Cooking Jams” playlist (pun intended). He smiled, hoping that since you were listening to this playlist it meant that you were baking something - specifically, baking the pie that you had promised him.

Dean peaked his head into the kitchen and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him. You were bopping your head, quietly singing along, and shaking your shoulders to the music as you were lining a tin with your homemade pie crust. You were wearing your hot pink sweatshirt (something that he loved always seeing you wear) and your fuzzy socks (another thing that he secretly loved). Wonder what’s underneath. Hope it’s one of my shirts…or nothing at all…He thought to himself. No Dean, don’t think that way.

Almost as if you could read his mind (which he knew you couldn’t do and was extremely thankful that you couldn’t) you stopped your dancing and looked at him, giving him the biggest smile you could muster up. “Hey you!” Your voice sounded so cheerful, so inviting, it practically made him melt.

“Hey Sunshine.” He said, walking into the kitchen and making his way to the island. “Whatcha making?” He asked, as if he couldn’t tell from the fresh cut apples and peaches on the counter in front of him.

“Your favorite.” You smiled, alternating between placing the peaches and apples into the pie tin. “Sorry it took so long Dean.”

Your apology surprised him. “Why are you saying sorry?” He questioned; you literally had no reason to be apologizing to him right now.

“Well, I know you asked for this Tuesday and it’s Sunday now.” Your voice that was once full of joy, was now sounding almost slightly sad and embarrassed, almost as if you were disappointed in yourself. “I swear I didn’t forget. Got a bit sidetracked with research this week.” You looked down just then, finishing up with the filling.

“Hey.” He began to say and you looked up at him. “Please don’t apologize for something like that okay?” You nodded. “Need any help?”

You shook your head. “I’m good Dean. But thanks for the offer.” You said, placing the pie into the oven.

“It’ll be ready soonish.” You gave him a smile. He could sense that you were trying to go back to your joyful voice, but you seemed still slightly upset, despite you having no reason to be.

Although you said you didn’t need the help, Dean started to gather all of the dirty dishes that you had made while you were baking. “Dean, you don’t have to do that.” You said as you watched him bring all of the dishes into the sink.

He turned the faucet on and looked at you. “It’s the least I can do Y/N.”

“I would have done it.” You walked over to the sink, picking up a dish rag and started drying the dishes he was finished washing. He looked at you briefly before letting out a small chuckle. “What?”

“Sweetheart, no you wouldn’t have. You would have left the dishes in the sink and I would have come to clean them up anyway. I know you love baking and cooking, but you hate the clean up.” You had started to open your mouth to comment, but you knew what he had said to you was the truth. Yes, you didn’t mind doing dishes, but you hated doing a large amount of dishes.

“I see Y/N finally made you your pie.” Sam said, gesturing to the giant slice of pie that Dean came walking into the War Room with.

Dean walked over with the biggest smile on his face. “It’s her best one yet.” Dean said, mouth full of pie. He sat down across from Sam who was on his laptop. “I really do think the singing and dancing helps.”

“I don’t know why you just don’t tell her.” Sam said.

“She knows I like her singing and dancing.” Dean took a mouthful of pie and Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his brother.

“I mean how you feel about her.” Sam’s comment had made Dean stop chewing his pie mid bite before he gulped it down.

Dean went to open his mouth, to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything clever or snarky to say. “I’ll pass.” He decided to say.

“You’ll…pass? What does that even mean?” For as long as Sam had been around you and Dean, it seemed completely obvious to everyone that you two had feelings for each other, but for some reason, it seemed like neither of you understood that you two had feelings for each other.

“I said, I’ll pass.” Dean repeated. “What about that can’t you wrap your head around?”

“Dean, you’ve been in love with Y/N since you’ve met her. Which, honestly, is quite a record.” Sam had never seen his brother be so in love with someone before, let alone being in love with someone for as long as he had been in love with you.

“Look Sam, she doesn’t like me in the way okay? I’ve made my peace with that. Why would I tell her that I love her if she doesn’t feel the same way? Sounds very silly to me.” Dean got up from his chair and walked out of the room with this now empty plate.

You were lying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you researching. You weren’t really researching anything in particular, just random things that had peaked your interest. As you were typing away, a small knock came from the other side of your door. “Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s Sam.”

“Come in!” You called back, the door opening and quickly shutting just as fast. You questioned the abruptness of the door. “Everything alright?”

“Peachy.” Sam replied. He pointed to the edge of your bed. “Can I sit?” You nodded.

“Did you get to try any of the pie yet? Or did Dean finish it already?” You joked, closing your laptop.

“No, not yet. He uh, he didn’t finish it yet shockingly.” Sam’s expression looked at you more serious now. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You smiled.

“Have you ever thought about telling Dean how you feel?” His question seemed to be coming out of nowhere.

“I…No.” You had wanted to tell Dean more than anything how you felt about him, but you knew that he didn’t feel the same way about you. “Why would I tell Dean that I love him when I know for a fact that he doesn’t feel the same way? It’s a little silly don’t you think?” Sam couldn’t help but almost let out a laugh. You two really are meant for each other. Sam thought to himself.

“But what if, there actually is a chance that he loves you too?” Sam asked.

You laughed. “Don’t you think he would have told me by now?”

“What if he’s afraid of the same thing you are?”

“Meaning…?” You weren’t completely sure of the point that Sam was trying to make to you.

“Meaning, what if he loves you too but thinks that you don’t love him back?” You furrowed your brow at Sam’s question.

“Dean afraid of telling me how he feels?” You laughed. “He doesn’t love me Sammy, trust me. I know what he looks like when he’s in love, and that ain’t the same way he looks at me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sam challenged.

Dean and you both were laying awake at night, thinking about the comments that Sam had said to the both of you. The both of you had similar thoughts in your minds: Does Dean really love me? Does Y/N really love me? Have I been reading the signals all wrong?

“Sam wouldn’t just bring that up if he didn’t say something right?” You said quietly aloud to yourself.

“Did Y/N say something to him?” Dean said quietly aloud to himself.

“I could easily ask him.” You said.

“No, no. I can’t just ask her.” Dean said.

“Sam’s fucking with me.” You and Dean said in unison.

“No…Sam wouldn’t do that.” You rationalized with yourself.

“No, Sam wouldn’t fuck with me like that.” Dean rationalized with himself.

“He’s literally right down the fucking hall. I could just…be hypothetical?” You questioned.

“It’s three in the morning. She’s probably sleeping.” He said.

“Fuck it.” You two said in unison, both practically jumping out of your beds.

You opened your door and started making your way down the hall. As you were walking, you were trying to keep your composure despite how nervous you were in that moment. “Don’t chicken out now Y/N.” You mumbled.

“Alright. You got this. You got this.” Dean mumbled. “Don’t be a pussy now.”

Your head was down, but just up enough to catch yourself if someone else was in the hallway. As you were walking you noticed Dean coming down the hallway, he seemed nervous and you wondered why.

“Fuck I can’t do this.” You whispered and started turning around back toward your room.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice had made you stop in your tracks, making you turn back toward him.

“Hey.” You tried to make your breath even. “What are…What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“I asked you first.” You said.

“I…Wanted to talk to you.” He sounded so nervous.

“At three in the morning?” You questioned.

“Yeah I uh…You know what, this can wait till later.” He said, starting to turn back into the direction of his room.

For some reason you had found yourself running after him, like you were in some cheesy romcom that you both secretly loved. “Wait.” You grabbed his arm, and he almost spun back in your direction.

Dean looked at you before looking at your hand. It amazed him each and every time how soft they had felt whenever you touched him. God, what I’d do to feel your hands all over. He thought to himself. “What’s up?”

“Dean…” He watched you take a deep breath. You were nervous and he could tell. He had known you long enough to know what you were feeling by just your body language.

You removed your hand from his arm, and he already missed the contact. “Y/N?” He asked.

“I uh…Can we talk in your room?” You asked, and he found himself automatically nodding.

“Of course.” He gave you a smile, hoping that would comfort you in some way.

You didn’t realize how nervous you truly were until you had made your way into Dean’s room. You had been in his room numerous of times (even spending the night in here) and it always strangely gave you comfort, but not in this moment. It was one of the rare occurrences in which even the calmness his room usually gave you, ceased to help you.

Dean shut the door behind you, something that made you even more nervous. You weren’t afraid that the door was shut, a majority of the time you and him had been in your room or his room, the door was usually shut. “I can, I can leave it open if you want?” He almost questioned, gesturing toward the door.

“No. No. It’s fine.” You said. “Can I…Mind if I sit on your bed?” You asked. It felt strange asking to sit on his bed. In normal circumstances, you would have just walked into his room and just sat down, never asking if you could first. Something that you were now realizing, was that you were the only person that never had to ask if you could sit down on his bed - everyone else had to ask him.

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Dean sat down on the edge of his bed and patted the spot next to him, in which you hesitantly sat down.

Dean looked into your eyes as you sat down next to him, placing your hands on your thighs. You rubbed them up and down. It kills me to see how nervous you are. He thought to himself, so badly wanting to say it out loud to you. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m nervous.” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. It made his heart ache.

“I’m nervous too.” He said, hoping that it would make you somehow less nervous.

“Why are you nervous?” You asked. Crap. How do I answer that? He thought to himself.

“Probably for the same reason you are.” He looked at your face, looking for some kind of hint of what you possibly could be thinking.

“I highly doubt that.” You looked away, and folded your hands as if you were back in school, patiently waiting for the teacher to give you instructions.

It started to seem very evident to Dean now, that you were either nervous because Sam was right - you did in fact love him, or you were nervous because you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him that you didn’t feel the same way that he did about you. Either way, it scared him.

“I…I thought this would be easier somehow.” You admitted, after what seemed like a forever amount of silence between the two of you.

“I feel like I friggin teenager.” Dean joked, you knew he was trying his best to lighten the mood.

“Same here.” You gave him a nervous smile. “Um…Dean…” You took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to tell him, while at the same time, talking yourself out of telling him. “You know you’re my best friend right?”

“You know you’re my best friend right?” There is was, the sentence that he didn’t want to hear.

“Yeah.” He said, feeling his heart quickly sinking into the pit of his stomach.

“And you know I appreciate you more than anything.” You couldn’t even look at him; he wasn’t sure if that was better or worse somehow.

He reached out for your arm, gently grabbing it. “I appreciate you too Sweetheart. And I know I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Don’t be silly. You show me plenty.” Your statement was true, he may not have realized it, but there were plenty of times when he had found himself doing things to show you how much he truly cared and appreciated you, even when he didn’t outright tell you - you were the same way. You sighed. “Dean –”

“Before you say anything, I just want to tell you that whatever you say to me, our friendship is never gonna change. I won’t hate you. I could never hate you, okay?” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you, or reassure himself in that moment.

“Here it goes then.” You took yet another deep breath.

“Fuck it.” You heard Dean mumble. Not even getting a second to react, his lips were suddenly on yours. His lips were just as soft as you had thought that they would be. Despite wanting to kiss him for as long as you had known him, you never thought that this is how your first kiss with him was going to go.

The kiss was quick, and not nearly as long as you had wanted it to be. He released his lips from yours and he stared at you blankly, almost embarrassed. “Sorry.” Dean said. “I uh…” He was actually speechless. “Shit.” He let go of your arms.

“Sammy was right.” He hears you mumble.

“What did my brother tell you?” He needed to know how badly the damage control was going to be, and how much he was going to kill his brother.

“He…He asked me if I um…If I ever thought about telling you how I feel.” So Sammy got to you too huh, Dean thought. “I told him that it would be silly of me to tell you how I felt because I knew you didn’t feel the same way.” You chuckled, nervously. “I guess…I guess I was wrong.”

“I told Sammy the same thing earlier.” He admitted. “As much as I wanted to tell you…” He trailed off, unsure of what he had wanted to say next, because there was so much he had wanted to say to you.

“You didn’t want to ruin our friendship in case I didn’t feel the same way.” You said, practically finishing his sentence for him. “I felt the same way. I mean, you know just as well as I do how hard it is to find people you can trust and rely on. I love both of you, and I didn’t want to say or do anything that would of fucked my relationship up with you guys.”

“So, what do we do now?” You asked, unsure of what was going to happen next. Just because the two of you had admitted your feelings for each other, doesn’t mean that you would actually do anything about it. As much as you had wanted to try out a relationship with Dean, you knew that he wasn’t much of the relationship type – then again, maybe it was because he hadn’t found the right person?

Dean looked over at the clock, noticing that it was almost 4:30 in the morning. He looked back over to you, almost looking too tired. “You spend the night in here with me. Or, morning in here with me.”

“And do what Dean?” You asked, curious as there could be a million things on his mind.

“Just lay here together…” He began to say, slightly pulling you in close. “Maybe cuddle…” He continued, leaning in slightly, inches away from your lips.

“Do some more kissing maybe…?” You whispered, slightly questioning. “Or are you too tired?”

“Hmmm, don’t think I’d ever be tired enough to not kiss you Sunshine.” He smiled tiredly, leaning in and kissing you again.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you would like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #reader insert #female reader #mutual pining the fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader

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imthegayone · 1 year ago

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Missing Jenna Playlist

Summary: Without your girlfriend's comforting presence, you take to youtube to find any form of comfort. Luckliy for you, your girlfriend is a celebertiy with a lot of interviews to watch.

Warrnings: None, just fluff, and maybe some errors

Author's Note: Thank you for the love on my last fic, seeing how many of you enjoyed it has really helped me feel more motivated to write. So again, thank you and I hope you enjoy. 🩵

Word Count: 1255

__________

If anyone asked about your comfort playlist full of your girlfriend’s interviews, you’d deny it. Even as said playlist made an appearance in your watch history when she was away filming.

It had been a particularly hard time spent away from each other when you gave in and made the list. Jenna was so busy that she barely had time to call or FaceTime like usual, not that your conflicting timezone was helping any either. You weren't getting any sleep, realizing just how much your girlfriend’s voice and presence had on your ability to do so.

At first it was just one of her Wednesday interviews with Emma. Hearing both of them laugh and joke brought you back to the time you had a sleepover together while visiting Romania. It was comforting hearing her raspy voice coax you into a deep sleep. But it would always end too soon, just as you would start to drift off, they were saying goodbye and the video would end.

So you’d search ‘Jenna Ortega Interview’, a hundred options popping up. You had your favorites and your least favorites. The ratings mostly consist of how much Jenna talked in them and the ones you knew she was excited to have done.

One day after a week of not hearing Jenna’s voice from her phone calls you wanted your favorites to comfort you. But they were all scattered around, some from Wednesday press junket, Scream 6, her promoting her book, it was too many to just queue every time so you decided a playlist would be good.

It’d keep everything together, no random videos to play afterwards, just all your favorite interviews in one place. You only did it as a convenience, not because you were desperate for her to be by your side, or anything. Just, supporting your girlfriend while she promoted her recent work. Plus you were tired, and fewer things to select so you could fall asleep to the sound of Jenna’s comforting voice was obviously the better option.

Maybe the playlist started to see the light of day however. Not only being played on your phone as it sat on the mattress next to you. But as the days went on you’d play it on the tv as you cooked, cleaned, or read a book. It basically became your favorite form of podcast without even being one.

It started to become a routine, you’d come home from work, fix something to eat and watch a show you recently started, until you’d begin to miss her. Your fingers expertly pressing every button needed to enter YouTube and reach your playlist, as if it was second nature.

It was one of those days, watching Jenna and Melissa die laughing at something Courtney said, the sound of keys unlocking your front door catching your attention. You perk up like a puppy hearing the bag of their favorite treats being opened. “Baby?” You hear the voice you’ve been wanting to hear for weeks and shoot up from your seat.

Your socked feet against the hardwood making your trek to the door more uncoordinated than usual. “Hi, baby.” You say a little out of breath, a smile gracing both of your faces. “Hello.” She replies, cupping your face and pulling you down into a smiling kiss. You wrap your arms around her pulling her even more into you, your body buzzing with happiness. She sighs as she wraps her arms around your neck, tucking her head in the slope of your neck.

“I didn’t know you’d be coming home so soon.” Not that you were complaining at all.

“We got a week off of filming and I wanted to see you.” Tightening her grip around your shoulder you feel her relax as you start to sway side to side. “I’ve missed you so much.” You couldn’t be happier at hearing she felt the same.

“I’ve missed you too.” Just as you couldn't feel any more at home, your heart sinks as you hear Jenna’s laugh, but it wasn’t coming from Jenna in your arms. No, it was Jenna prompting Scream months ago. You can’t believe you forgot to turn the tv to literally anything else. Jenna pulls away confused, you try pulling her back into you but she pulls away fully walking towards your shared living room. This is a great time to have the floor swallow you whole, you think.

“Hey, why don’t we put your clothes up and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’re so tired and wanna sleep the rest of the day away. That sounds like a great plan, right?” Unfortunately, she continues on her way, towards the sound of her own voice. Your only comfort being the sly smile she gives you over her shoulder. She stops when she sees what’s on the tv and you sigh. You’ve been caught, and now you are gonna have to hide away for the rest of your life.

“Did this just come on by itself?” You nod not making eye contact with her. “Yep, it just came on. I guess it got recommended after I watched the roundtable interview.”

“Oh really?” You hum in agreement, your hands start to sweat as she looks back at you with a mischievous smile. “You didn’t just really miss me?”

“You don’t even know.” That wasn’t suppose to come out, but it made her smile grow bigger. Her fingers reach out and grasp the hem of your shirt. Her smile and eyes softening at your admission, she pulls you in, her big brown eyes looking up at you takes your breath away for the millionth time.

Your hand comes up and cradles her neck as your thumb rubs against her jaw bone. It’s quiet for a moment as you just take each other in. You lean down pressing your lips to hers. When you pull away her mischievous smile is back. “You missed me.” She singsongs, you lovingly roll your eyes. “Maybe a little.”

She pulls you towards the couch, pushing on your chest until you fall into its pillows. “It’s very sweet that you watch my interviews but I can’t watch myself.” She says as she lays on top of you and reaches for the remote. You're so caught up in finally having her in your arms that you don’t realize what she's about to see.

“You’re watching a playlist of my interviews?” She looks down at you, then back at the screen. “You made the playlist?” You groan, why didn’t you change the tv, why aren't the cushions swallowing you whole like you hope they would? Trying to hide your blush you hear Jenna giggle on top of you and her kissing your warm cheek. “Baby, you’re so cute. Do you know that?”

“Shut up.” You mutter feeling even more flustered at her words and kiss. That makes her laugh more. You feel her hand slide up your body and find its resting place on your cheek. Pushing you to look at her, she smiles down at you.

The overwhelming need to confess your feelings almost takes over but after a year of dating you wanted it to be her choice to say it without pressure.

“I love you, Y/n. So much.” Relief and happiness floods through you, she said it and she meant it. She loves you. You can’t help but surge up, capturing her lips in a kiss, and confess the same sentiment you felt since you met her against her lips.

“I love you too, J.”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #hey how tf do you end a fic??#also how tf do you name one without feeling cringe #asking for a friend #this is my longest fic tho and thats awesome i'm so happy with that small achievement #also i was thinking about that tiktok where its like 'i bet her laugh is cute'#then it plays the bloopers from scream 6 of her laughing #its so adorable #fics by the gay

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sorchathered · 4 days ago

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Scream for me- Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia x reader

Summary- Mickey's wife loves dark romance, and after deep diving in her library he gets an idea to re-enact a scene or two.

Pairing- Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x female!reader

Warnings- smutty smut, roleplay, dub/con themes, language.

Mickey Garcia’s sweet little wife was a certified freak. Everyone that knew her thought she was the sweetest little thing they’d ever met , she was shy and quiet in comparison to his big personality, the kind of girl that baked cookies for new neighbors and crocheted baby blankets for the children’s hospital. The very picture of a good girl. But when she got Mickey all to herself? She was insatiable. If his friends knew the kind of shit she did to him when they were alone, hell they’d never believe him. Lately she’d been reading these dark romance stories, the ones that seem to be super popular on TikTok and while she hadn’t said anything to him about it he could see the wheels turning in her head, once she got an idea in her head it wouldn’t be long until she told him.

It had been a long ass week of stupid briefings and tense arguments between his team, they were gearing up for a mission and he hadn’t seen his pretty girl all week, work schedules always seeming to get in the way, one of you was asleep when the other left or went home and all he could think about was burying himself in her.

When he crossed the threshold he knew you’d pulled out all the stops, the house smelled like his favorite meal, music was playing and candles were lit everywhere, he found you dressed in his favorite dress of yours swaying in the kitchen while you cooked, suddenly all the hell from work melted away as he dropped his bag and stepped into your arms. “Oh Querida you are an angel, seriously sent from heaven just for me.” He swayed with you to the song as you ran your hands over his face and kissed him softly, he hadn’t meant for it to get heated but damn you looked so good and he’d missed you so much. It always ended up like this on hard days, you would make everything special and he would barely make it out of his flight suit before he had you bent over the kitchen counter, dress rucked up over your shoulders as he fucked you hard and sucked marks into your neck. For all the joking he did about you being a freak he was just as bad, he loved knowing you were full of him and marked in places people could see, more than once he’d left you with bite marks so dark that no concealer could ever cover up so after a while you just gave up and let people talk.

Later that night after he’d had dinner and then you for dessert he was watching Star Trek reruns while you read your newest book in his lap, and he could tell from your breathing and the way you wiggled on him that you were getting hot and bothered. “So what’s this one about huh?” he said as he plucked it from your grasp, you whined and made grabby hands but he dodged you and flipped through the pages. It was some pretty racy stuff if he was honest, the guy was stalking the girl and had kidnapped her, but instead of her being scared she was totally into it. He looked over the top of the cover at you and watched you blush, he had a feeling this is what you’d been thinking about the other day and the way you tried to hide your face told him everything. “Is this your new crazy fantasy idea baby girl? You wanna role play some of this stuff?” You looked at him with the biggest grin and nodded, if that’s what you wanted he could definitely make that happen.

The special detachment was only two weeks but they hadn’t been able to contact anyone since leaving for the mission, Mickey had been plotting and scheming ever since you brought up your little fantasy and he had it all worked out. You would be coming home late and didn’t know he was going to be back, so he would have the house dark and quiet for when you arrived and that’s when he’d start the game. He’d stolen your book and read over it on the carrier, and damn he’d be lying if he didn’t get a little hot and bothered himself thinking about doing some of those things to you, it had him fantasizing about it almost non stop and he couldn’t wait to put it into action.

You pull into the drive around 8, wrung out from work and lonely. You signed up for this life but sometimes going days without contact was unbearable, you just wanted to hear Mickey tell you he loves you. Stepping into the dark foyer you drop your stuff and go to switch on the light, only to be pressed hard against the front door with a hand against your mouth. You are panicking, thrashing as you try to get away only to hear the deep voice of your husband in your ear. “Surprise my love, thought we could play out your little fantasy tonight, but only if you feel up for it. If you want me to stop you tell me and we’re done ok?” You relaxed in his grip and moaned softly, he was here and safe and wanted to play into your dirty daydreams, you absolutely wanted that right now, letting him take what he wanted from your body sounded so good, you couldn’t help but push yourself back into him. “Good sweet girl, what’s your color?” “So so so fucking green” you said when he pulled his hand away and he let out a chuckle, there was his little slutty wife, so damn eager for him to fuck her.

It was like flipping a switch, you immediately started trying to fight him off and he spun you both around, kicking your legs out from under you as he pressed you down onto the entryway rug. “Oh Mi Vida don’t fight it, be still for me baby I know you’re scared but I’ll make it so good, been watching you for weeks and I can see it; you need someone to make it hurt, fuck that attitude right out of you. Don't worry Querida, I'm gonna show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”

You heard a ripping sound and felt duct tape being wrapped across your wrists, not tight enough to hurt just enough to make it believable, he leaned his body over yours and whispered into your ear, “do I need to tape your mouth too princess or are you going to be good for me?” You continued to thrash under the weight of him as he ran his free hand over your body and shouted at him to let you go, knowing full well he’d tape your mouth as well, shrieking as he flipped you over to straddle you with your hands behind your back. “Don’t need your neighbors knowing what we’re getting up to, so since you can’t keep your mouth shut I’ll do it for you.” He pressed the tape to your mouth with both hands and then ran his lips over it, nipping at your jaw as he made his way down to your neck, he had you distracted enough that you didn’t even notice him pulling the pocket knife from his jeans, only jolting backwards when you heard it click open. He ran it along your collarbone and tops of your breasts, toying with you until he finally yanked it through the fabric of your top, splitting the shirt and your bra open all at once, chest completely exposed to the cold air as he continued his way south, licking and sucking at the plush skin there, kneading one breast in his right hand as he sucked marks into the other, watching as you squirmed and whined beneath him.

“Please! Please! M-my husband-“ you cried out, and he let out a muffled chuckle through the mask covering his face, somehow it was even hotter knowing you couldn’t see his face. “Oh you sweet girl, you think I haven’t been watching you for weeks? I know your husband isn’t here! He’s still sitting pretty on his little boat in the middle of the ocean.” He wrapped his hands around your throat and put a delicious amount of pressure on your pulse point, vision blurring a little at the edges and making you arch into his chest. He leaned in to press the mask to your ear, grinding his hard on into you as he whispered, “No one’s coming to save you baby girl, scream all you want because it’s gonna be a long night.”

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