#or I don’t want to put the book down and then don’t sleep

[knightyoomyoui]

[SMUT] TWICE x Male Reader - "One Of The Girls"

The final one-shot of my TWICE smut anthology book is here. I think this might disappoint for some readers here because yall might be expecting it to be long, but I made it as simpler and unique as I can be because I don’t think I’ll be able to write a Part 2 of this anymore due to my lack of interest of writing smuts. Thank you once again for atleast giving a try on reading my smut one-shots even though I’m not really expert at writing mature stuffs. Still, I hope this might come into your liking. WARNING: contains smut, R+18, mature and sexual content TAGS: fuckfest, friends with benefits, eighteensome (with a bit of threesome and foursome), harem, pairing, messy sex, anal, rough sex, blowjob, lots of sex positions, futuristic, clones, advanced technology etc. WORD COUNT: 5,500

You are currently hosting your own celebratory party with your only circle of friends in college. There’s a total of 10 people present around your house, which is the preferred location that was voted for by the majority since yours is the most spacious among them. Around your living room are Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Momo, Sana, Jihyo, Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu, and you as the only guy in your squad.

Table occupied with bunches of snacks and empty cans of beer, some of the girls are nearing passing out from their drunken state, except the others, like Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo, who have a high alcohol tolerance, went on to continue chatting with you since they wanted to cherish this moment being complete together.

It’s been months since you’ve last seen them after getting graduated from college. Each went on to grab the degree of the profession they have chosen, and that brought them to achieve their dream job that effectively supports them even more in their personal life.

You were the one who initiated to invite all of them when few days ago, you unexpectedly encountered Jihyo in the grocery store and sulked about when will be there a time where all 10 of you will go hangout together again just like good old times. Since Jihyo is the one that all of you have been calling the “mother” of the group, you took note of her suggestion.

As you went home, chat app open, revisit your group chat with them, and send the invitation, which led you all in this predicament.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Jihyo said as she looked at your window, waterdrops scattering as it disperses down through its surface. 

“We should’ve went home already after they passed out.” Jeongyeon said as she emptied her can of beer and peek at Momo and Chaeyoung sleeping both on her sides.

“Yeah, we got caught now by the rain outside. Nice.” Nayeon slumped her back on the couch. “Ahhh I hate it when I go home wet.” 

“Should we wake everyone up?” Jeongyeon asked.

Jihyo shook her head. “Maybe not yet, I don’t want to disturb their sleep just to get haggard going outside.” She said while stroking the wavy hair of sleeping Mina on her right.

“I think it’s much better if you guys should stay here.” You suggested. “You guys still have work, I don’t want to risk you all getting sick and take an absence.”

“Are you sure about it, YN?” Jeongyeon asked, lifting her brows in surprise. “Are we not gonna be a hindrance here around your house, I mean… we did put a mess already here but-”

“Nah, I’m positive. And I knew where you’re going at your words, Jeong. I’ll help you clean the place up tomorrow.” You smiled at her.

“Nice. Thanks for this, YN!” Jeongyeon high fives with you.

“Well that’s even better. I’m starting to like your place too anyway.” Jihyo joked as she looked around the interior of the house. “I mean, what do expect from our architect, am I right.” She smirked as you chuckled at her teasing.

“Aww, as expected, such a caring and thoughtful deed from our daddy~” Nayeon quickly cuddled your arm, much to your shock. You froze at your place, and Jeongyeon and Jihyo stopped laughing as their smile fades away with their eyes slowly stared towards the already drunk bunny that they thought was still with them.

“Uhm…” 

“Did we heard it right?”

“N-Nayeon, what did you just call YN here?”

“My daddy YN~” Nayeon said as she rubs her face in your biceps. “He’s the only man in our group and he takes care of us, does that make her our daddy?” She raised her head and smiled at you with her and shiny teeth.

“How did you… just end up randomly calling him like that?” Jeongyeon stiffles her laugh while perturbedly questioning Nayeon’s weird behavior.

“I mean, she has a point though, you are the patriarch, the one who formed our group anyway. You found us, YN.” Jihyo shrugged her shoulders. “But cmon, unnie. There’s no need to call him like that.”

“I don’t care. I love to call him that always, besides…” Nayeon’s stare went strangely different, eyeing you with an unspeakable aura clouding through her pupils. Her hand planted on your chest and rubbed it gently, smelling your scent from your shirt. “Daddy’s has been looking such a very hottie these days compared back then, that’s why he’s just simply deserves to be called with it. Besides, you love to hear that too from one of your girls, right~?”

“N-Nayeon…” 

Her movements are like a choke hold on you, making it difficult for you to talk normally. You are stammering when you speak. Gazing at Jeongyeon and Jihyo, you saw that they were merely observing Nayeon as she moved her hands around you. Their gaze shifted to you, and all of a sudden, even theirs felt a little awkward.

To your astonishment, Nayeon gently caressed your face and turned it toward her, planting a soft kiss on your lips. When you felt Nayeon's lips start to move more around your mouth and extend an invitation for a passionate duel, your eyes opened and your body gradually melted.

Hearing some gulps from nearby, it was coming from Jeongyeon and Jihyo drinking more beer that was left from the table. Their breaths became heavy as they continued to observe Nayeon doing these things to you.

You never crossed your mind that Nayeon would do this to you someday, just like right now, but it is undoubtedly true that she is deadly gorgeous, and to share this kind of intimacy with someone like her, consider yourself to be the luckiest guy in the world.

Speaking of being lucky, it looks like you’re about to experience another once-in-a lifetime moment and something that will forever change your relationship with the girls when you hear Jeongyeon moan as Jihyo starts to grope her breast. 

Your hand rest on Nayeon’s hand and continued to mash your lips against her, syncing her movements along to make your kiss even more sultry. As you remove first from her face, you stared at her and looked at Jeongyeon who is now also massaging her other breast to join Jihyo playing on her body.

“Are you girls sure wanna do this?”

“I’d like to give it a try. We haven’t done this before, and it pretty much looks very interesting, especially looking at our r Jeongie here enjoying my touch here like never before.” Jihyo smirks.

“How about you, Jeong?”

“Quit asking, let’s stay here for the night and have more fun.” Jeongyeon said, huffing one more time before she tilts her head and captures Jihyo’s face for a kiss of her own too.

“I knew they will follow us.” Nayeon said as she satisfyingly watched her friends going out at each other. “I pretty much knew how their hormones can get intense, and now that you are our only man around here, will you like to accompany us to it?”

“Oh whenever you want, Nayeon.”

You pulled the hem of Nayeon’s shirt upward, revealing her baby blue silk bra that perfectly hugs her average-sized boobs. You gnawed at the crook of her neck; she gasped at how ticklish and warm your breath hit her sensitive spot. While doing so, your hand squeezed along the soft skin of her arms, feeling its smoothness.

Locating the lock on her bra from her back, you unhooked it and removed the garment from her. Setting yourself apart from Nayeon, you have found the first glimpse of Nayeon’s bare top, her breasts proudly presented to you and ready to be devoured.

You placed your palms on top of her tits, squishing them as Nayeon invited you again for another kiss. Jeongyeon and Jihyo are still colliding in each other's bodies. As you checked on them, you have found that Jeongyeon is now stripping off Jihyo’s skirt as she also gets rid of her shirt, exposing her black bra that traces the width of her wide, flawless back.

Lifting Nayeon off the couch and leaving Dahyun and Tzuyu on your spot, you gently placed Nayeon on your carpet. Now being on top of her, you undid her jeans and saw her matching pants tucked securely on her rosy petals. Running your hands through her legs, you found her waistband, taking them off and giving her pants a lustful inhale before looking at the now fully naked Nayeon laying for you.

You kissed her again, with one hand caressing her cheek and another returning to nuzzle with her left breast. You heard a loud whimper coming from Jihyo, who is now being eaten by Jeongyeon as her head is between her legs, sitting on the carpet in front of her.

With your clothes and jogging pants now gone too, all 3 women went on to watch you loosen your boxers, and there they had to see your erected cock for the first time, increasing their sexual desires that had them craving the taste of your meat.

Jihyo’s moans went constantly seductive the more she stares at your cock while her pussy is getting pleasured by Jeongyeon who is now fingering her own pussy also. Nayeon who is even more aroused, gripped your cock to give it a pump, eliciting a gasp on your mouth.

“My god, YN. After all these years, I couldn’t believe we were almost impossible to release this beast begging to be let out and gain some attention. We could’ve helped you with it after all these years.” Nayeon said as she watched her huge hands exquisitely covering the length of your cock.

“You girls never asked though. Well now, you girls can have it anytime you want. Atleast unlike before, every single one of you has a chance to take this all for yourselves.” You said confidently.

“And I will enjoy every single bit of it.” Nayeon bit her lip before she gave you a trusting nod, signaling you to enter her virgin cavern. She flinched and rolled her eyes back as she felt every inch of you entering her pussycat.

Now buried deep inside of her, you subtly fucked Nayeon into a missionary position. Your arms rested on each side of Nayeon’s head to give you stability. She was holding onto it at first until she decided to support you in continuing to fuck her harder by roving her hands around your toned torso and back and licking your nipples.

Meanwhile, Jihyo has just finished squirting on Jeongyeon’s face, licking off the juices that she caught before scooping some and letting Jihyo have a taste of it, sucking Jeongyeon’s fingers lewdly. After that, they changed positions, wherein Jihyo is now paying attention to Jeongyeon’s fat pussy while groping her heaving tits.

Back to your state, your pace went faster, creating loud claps of your crotch and her ass contacting with each pound. Nayeon’s moan and frantic noises go fast as she watches you pour your efforts into dominating her. 

"Ughhh, yesss, keep it like that, Daddy. Fuck me, fuck your one and only bunnyhop with your gigantic carrot.”

Your groans intensified until you felt a sudden surge of tightness in your stomach. Unleashing the last remaining forces you need to snatch that climax, you finally pushed into her very deep, and Nayeon felt some gooey substance flowing inside her walls.

As you remove yourself from her, you observe Nayeon breathing erratically with her pussy overflowing with your cum. You wiped the cream off your cock through her thigh before moving on to Jihyo and Jeongyeon who are still having their own fun together.

But just as you were about to reach them, you were prevented by a grip from someone on your back, holding your wrist, stopping you in your tracks that made you to only watch Jeongyeon squirt into Jihyo. You rotated your body and found Tzuyu looking up at you mischievously. 

Additionally, you discovered Dahyun slowly opening her eyes as Chaeyoung, Momo, Sana, and Mina all find themselves staring at your cock with fascination as they watch the embarrassed pair perform an amorous act.

“Do you guys really think we would let ourselves be left alone?” Sana said as her action encouraged the rest of the girls to strip off their clothes, presenting their bodies only in their ravishing set of bra and panties with different colors, tempting you to get hornier at the sight of their sexy bodies all prepared to be claimed by yours.

They formed a devious smirk and lick from their lips as they saw your hardened cock twitch. “Aww looks like our YN here is liking what he’s seeing right now.” Momo said as she knelt beside you and stared at your thick shaft all fired up to invade their pussies one by one…

… but you have thought of an idea to make things faster, easier…and unique.

“Wait, girls. Alright, I know all of you want to join but… I can’t do this for now with just only me taking you all each turn.” You said to them.

“So… lemme grab something from my room  real quick and come back here to show it.” You ran away from them and dug through your items until you have found what you are looking for.

Returning to the living room, you even adore the view more as you noticed that all of them are now naked, presenting you the contrast of their sizes and shape of their wonders but that doesn’t matter to you. You knew that all of them has one similarity and that is they all look breathtaking and fuckable tonight.

“What’s that, YN?” Chaeyoung asked as she looks at your hand holding a circular device.

“It’s a cloning device made by my brother who is an expert in robotics. He gave me this as a gift because I once shared to him that I feel bad sometimes that Alpha, my pet dog… I always left him here in the house alone.” You said as you looked around at its design, juggling it in your hands. 

“So he gave me this as a solution. Well basically as like what I’ve said… it’s a cloning device, which means I can create an artificial clone version of myself. He instructed me to use it as my replacement whenever I left the house for work, so that Alpha can still have me… but the other and fake “me” to still be his guardian. I can even use it to do some other errands while I’m away.”

They all are impressed at its purpose and quality. “Can I ask, YN? Is the clone you produce can touch something? I’m thinking that it may just be a hologram, so what if you have to feed your dog or bathe him while you’re out?”

“Oh, don’t worry. My clones can have a contact with anything around here. I’m not that much of an expert that’s why I can’t explain why but my brother probably inputted some system in this advance technology that doesn’t only shape my clones into a complete holographic-illusion type of figure.”

“A question also, uhm… does it only have a limited time to use?” asked Mina.

“Yup, it can only be set for a day if I’m only using it for one clone… but for multiple…”

“Wait, so you can also switch it to any number of clones of your choosing?”

“Yeah, but it’s only up to ten. So probably I can use it for like an hour and half or something since like I said, the more I activate a clone, the shorter the time I can only use it.” You said, until your lips form a sly smirk as you gave them a glance. “Which is why I want to use this for tonight…”

They all looked at each other until Jeongyeon understood what you are talking about, her cheeks blushed and eyes largened at the idea you have in your mind. “Oh this night just got even more chaotic.”

“... and make eight clones of myself so that instead of having you girls by turn, I can have all of you AT THE SAME TIME. Sounds good?” 

“Actually, that is brilliant. Atleast, we don’t have to wait for YN and… we can have him as our partner by pair.” Tzuyu applauded your idea.

“Wait, is it gonna work like… this is the first time you’re gonna use it on having sex, do you think it’s gonna function the same thing as what a real human like you can do?” Dahyun asked. “Like… can it even cum as you?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” You shrugged. Pressing the button of the device, you laid it on the floor and stood straight in front of it. The device scanned you from head to toe and set the number of clones to 8. It beeped repeatedly until to all of your amazement, you witnessed the device spawn a naked clone of you one by one until it reaches the necessary number.

The clones all look at you as if they are asking for your command. You felt something strange in your head, as if there’s a bunch of signals awaiting for your memory core to generate a thought that will be transported into the other end.

“Let’s continue where we left off.” You tried to use the ability you have just unveiled. You looked at your clones and then at the girls except Jeongyeon, and developed a thought in your head that commands them to have sex with the girls of their choosing.

All of your clones went on to approach the girls they have chosen. Since you don’t have any names to call them, you labeled them rather as your clone number based from the age order of the girls in which they partnered theirselves together. 

“Hi Jeong, looks like its you and I now.” You said to Jeongyeon who was left standing alone as the girls are now intimately engaging with your clones.

“Oh, so that’s why I was wondering why I didn’t get picked.” She scratched the back of her head, feeling embarassed at her dumbness. “Well, I like it much better that I get to have the real package right here.” 

She reached for your limp cock and gave it a few introductory pumps with her reversed hand. You kissed her while squeezing her ass from behind. Teasing her asshole, you inserted your index finger in it and fucked her slowly.

Her gasp enabled you to invade her mouth and swirl your tongue around inside. After licking her taste buds, you let Jeongyeon kneel before you and worship your cock in her own initiation.

As you looked around you, you were astounded that the girls also copied Jeongyeon; they knelt under your clones and checked if they could have contact with their artificial cock. Momo woah-ed aloud as she, along with the girls, confirmed that they can even touch their dicks too.

Jeongyeon chuckled and shook her head as she saw her friends enjoying your clones’ cocks for themselves. She slapped your abs to lure your attention back to her, and there she eyed you lustfully as she wiggled your now reawakened cock on her fist, slapping it on her cheeks before licking the underside of your shaft.

She ran her tongue through your length and traced the veins of your cock before slurping your mushroom head. She lifted your cock away to gain access at your hanging balls, not wanting them to be left out. She coated them with her saliva as she massaged the other one with care.

Back at your cock, she then proceeded to suck and gave you another blowjob of greatness that you will ever be thankful for your life. You patted Jeongyeon’s head as she dugs her face deep until she reaches your abdomen, giving you a deepthroat that is even par from her limit, but she still did her best to make you feel good as possible. “So big and thick… hope you don’t mind that I will always beg for this from now on, YN”, she said as she jerked it while grinning devilishly at you. “Good, because I don’t even know if I’ll get enough of your body too, Jeong.” You said as you grab a bundle of her hair and use it as your handle while she blows you hard once more. “Yes, continue to move that little mouth of yours. Show me how much you love my cock.”

The girls were now giving your clones their own style and direction of blowjob in which also lets out the satisfied feeling from them. Getting more aroused at the work Jeongyeon has been doing at your meat, you humped your hips and facefucked Jeongyeon until you blew your load, filling her mouth with your warm cum before you slip away.

Jeongyeon swallowed it all like a good girl and wiped off the remnants around her lips. After she presented her empty and clean tongue without any signs of your seed, you also found out that the girls each had the surprise on their face when they also felt some cum poured through their mouth and staining their face.

“Wait, so they can also feel what you feel?” Jeongyeon commented the same thing as you have discovered.

“Same as what I’m thinking.” 

“Heh, you’re the best, YN.” Jeongyeon shook her head and kissed you on the cheek before she pulled your arm to set yourselves up for a sex position. You also mentally commanded your clones to fuck the girls in any position they want.

She went close to Jihyo who is now being fucked by your clone in a sitting faceoff at the side of the couch. Jeongyeon spreaded her leg for you and invited you to come closer, standing between her and stick your cock at her pussy, which was very tight that sent chills in your skin. You savored banging Jeongyeon very deep that had her moaning uncontrollably at your massive length poking her womb.

Being too noisy, Jihyo teased her bestfriend by voluntarily stretching her body aside so that she can pull Jeongyeon’s head and forcefully have her suck her right tits with your clone who is playing on her left one. Jeongyeon continued to hum around Jihyo’s nipple as you went back and forth faster through her pussy.

You peppered kisses through Jeongyeon’s thick thighs and some sneaky squeezes on her butt until you felt your climax about to greet you again. Rapidly drilling her walls, you sent Jeongyeon into her world of ecstasy by filling her insides with your cum which led also to your clone to fire stream of its own load to Jihyo including the rest of the girls.

While you were busy with indulging Jeongyeon, Momo was being fucked by your second clone in a cowgirl, taking one of your couches all by themselves.

Sana and your third cousin are doing 69 beside the table. Her face has been painted white after she pointed the tip into her to empty the remaining area for some facials. Your clone also received the same treatment; his face got flooded with Sana’s love juices.

Mina is being ravaged by your fifth clone in a doggy-style way at the kitchen counter, her ass being roughly pounded with a thick cock while her pussycat is being sucked by Nayeon, who is being taken by her own clone of yours on the floor.

Dahyun is on the edge of the couch, getting piledrivered by your sixth clone as her body is positioned upside down, her feet being used as a handle while the back of your clone leans at the end of the couch for additional support.

Chaeyoung is on the front of the TV with her clone of yours, watching her reflection on the screen as she gets manhandled from behind, her body submitting from the full nelson demolition that is being applied on her own session of sensation.

Tzuyu is doing the same thing as Chaeyoung, but it's not her reflection she’s watching. She’s viewing the rainy atmosphere outside the streets of Seoul just to distract herself from getting penetrated by your clone in a one-legged standing. Her body is paralled with his body, and she kisses him to let your clone know that he’s doing a good job, filling her up to the brim.

As they all received your warm present oozing underneath between their legs, they decided with you to go on for one last round before wrapping up this party that became a sex-filled, erotic occasion.

You went on to find Jihyo, who has now abandoned by your clone on the couch, after you mentally commanded him to go after Jeongyeon next. Jihyo looked up at you and gave you a soft smile, to which you also returned the gesture.

To ride off her exhaustion, you sat beside her and took her tits all by yourself. You were definitely pretending to yourself if you were denying that Jihyo’s enormous mommy milkers aren’t distracting you whenever they look very evident and alluring at her clothes that felt too tight or revealing. 

It’s not because you are simply a pervert; being quite an introvert, you just don’t know exactly what to do to completely avoid it.

Now that you have her nice pair of bosoms resting neatly below her chest, it would be disrespectful of you to just continue ignoring such a pretty and sexy lady like her, especially if you are now free to have her for your own satisfaction as much as she has for you.

Without any further ado, you feasted a lot with her tits, kneading each of their softness and weighing them on your palm before you dipped your salivating mouth into her caramelized nipples and areolas.

Jihyo is just there, whimpering and sighing heavily at your mouth, marking her precious assets. She combs your hair like a good baby boy sucking off her mommy’s milk.

As you removed your face from her breasts, you stood in front of her and went on with another idea you had in store for her.

Presenting your engorged cock once again, you used her breasts to place it between them and sandwich it around your shaft before allowing you to titfuck Jihyo.

Jihyo lowered her head and spit on your cock as she attempted to catch your head with her tongue, giving it a few licks while you went forward. You didn’t go on for too long on going after her breasts because it's not only that who has to be recognized on. Her entire body should be praised for a goddess like her.

Now contented with the feeling of your cock passing through the deep valley of her cleavage, you pulled Jihyo with you and replaced her on the couch. You instructed her to climb on your lap, in which she sat down, gripping your cock and tucking it to her pussy.

“Ahh! Fuck me, augh yes just like what I imagined when I first had a look at your cock.” Jihyo said as she slightly twerked her plump ass.

You catched her waist and suddenly slammed her down as you made her furiously bouncing on your lap. “Shit, fuck you like that huh? You like getting hammered by my big cock don’t you, Jihyo?”

“Yes yes! YN go faster please!”

“Scream for me! Let everyone in this room know that no one can match my cock for your tight pussy!” You slapped Jihyo in the face and spanked her ass as you roared at her.

“G-GIRLS! O-OH GOD… OH MY GOD UGH YESSSSS!! FUCK, H-HE’S THE BEST AT THIS… I WON’T FIND ANYONE THAN YOU, YN! I JUST WANT YOUR COCK, NOT EVERYONE ELSES”  You pushed her closer to you and mashed your face at her tits as you rammed her like a madman.

You are fucking Jihyo so intensely that your groans of pleasure isn’t enough yet to let Jihyo know that she and the rest of the girls will get to experience whatever limits of sex they can reach just so they can feel like they’re locked up in heaven.

Sliding her ass out more, Jihyo became confused on why did you paused after the horrific speed you just gave on her. Her answer came shortly as she felt another cock getting inserted in her another hole.

Jihyo screamed in both pain and pleasure as she is now getting double penetrated by you and your clone. While you continued to suck her bouncing tits, Jihyo looks around to check what the other girls are also receiving at the moment.

On her front view, there’s Nayeon and her clone having tabletop sex at the kitchen counter. Sana is giggling and and moaning at the same time with her shaky voice as she is bouncing up and down beneath your clone’s cock at the stairs in a reverse cowgirl. Mina is having her pussy being eaten by Dahyun whose front frame and breasts are pressed on the floor while her ass is being fucked in a flatiron position.

On her back there goes the scene where Jeongyeon is bent in half like a seashell by your clone while having her tits sucked, Momo getting some spooning treatment, her tits swaying at every thrusts she receives, Chaeyoung moaning for mercy as she gets hogged by your clone in an upstanding citizen, carrying her small frame while having her limbs floating in the air due to getting hooked around in her legs.

Lastly, Tzuyu continues to admire the night view of Seoul through the windows while his clone is pistoning her pussy in a stand and deliver.

“I- I can’t take it anymore, I- I’m going to let it out, YN!”

“I’m getting close too, Jihyo…”

“Perfect fucking timing. Let’s end together.” Jihyo said as is staring dangerously at you before she reached your face for one more kiss. 

You and your clone plowed Jihyo to the brink of fulfillment as a few more strokes and rough collisions of your skin slapping together took yourselves into orgasm. Jihyo shouts lewdly as she feels streams of her slimy nectar squirt around your cock while it pulsates the last set of your pearly cum straight through her cunt.

The room resonated with synchronized screams, moans, and curses as everybody embraced their climax. You quickly grabbed your device and switched it off, making your clones disappear in an instant.

You sat beside Jihyo, who is now knocked off after having her energy spent just like the rest of the girls with you. The room smells like sex, with cum overflowing from their gaping holes and puddles of crystal liquid all over the floor. Bodies slumped and scattered everywhere around the house.

But then in some of their surprise, they noticed that the cum that came out from your clones disappeared next, making their snatch feel a bit lighter now than earlier, except for the trio Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo.

“I guess those are also artificial and temporary just like them.” Jeongyeon said as she looked at the  evidences that gone missing.

“But not for us.” Nayeon smiled proudly and scooped some of your cum flowing on her thigh with her fingers, tasting it again.

“Ehhh that’s unfair!” Sana pouted as she looked at Nayeon, Jeongyeon and Jihyo with jealousy.

“You better give us next time, YN.” Momo challenged you.

“Yeah… I will, because for now I can’t do it anymore.” You laid down on the couch, and Jihyo helped you get some pillow. “I’m so goddamn exhausted.”

“Maybe that’s why the clones can feel what you feel and think what you think, because they are connected on your brain.” Jihyo said. “And since you mutiplied them, that goes the same with its effects to you.” 

“How ironic. I still felt like I had sex with you guys all by myself.” You panted. “You girls can sleep on my bed. Jeongyeon, remember to clean with me okay?”

“Yup. I know. Goodnight, girls.” Jeongyeon stood up on the floor. She also helped the girls to get up before they went towards you and sent a kiss to your cheek.

“Thanks for a hell of a time, YN. Goodnight.” Jihyo gave the last kiss and patted your chest before she left you sleeping on the couch. Few days later, you lived up to your words, You invited again the second batch consisting of MISAMO: Mina, Sana, and Momo and the School Meal Club trio Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu to finish what you started, a hot, wild, and exhausting hours of sex with all six of them. Thankfully, with the help of some expensive and strong viagra that Nayeon recommended for you to use, you were able to survive servicing these beauties, thrusting and spurting each one with a large amount of irreplaceable cum within the depths of their pussy from dusk ‘til dawn.

#twice one shot #twice fanfic #twice smut #twice au #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop oneshots #kpop fanfic #twice nayeon smut #twice jeongyeon smut #twice momo smut #twice sana smut #twice jihyo smut #twice mina smut #twice dahyun smut #twice chaeyoung smut #twice tzuyu smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 25

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You wait out in the sun until you feel its sear. You glance over at the house then the yard and stand. You leave your sketchbook on the table.  

You’re restless, not just because of the unexpected events, but because your run-in with Peter, and your turbulent return. You take the glass of lemonade and take a gulp, nearly choking on it. It’s sickly sweet, to the point you can’t even swallow it. 

You spit your mouthful back into the cup and keep it with you. You just want to go home and hide. You want to be out of the way.  

You head go down the deck steps and drift along the hedges. You glance again at the glass doors. Cautiously, you pour the lemonade behind the bushes. The flavour alone has turned your stomach. 

You wander along, pondering the fence. Could you just go home? Is Steve coming back? They probably won’t even notice. It’s their day, not yours. 

You come back up the wooden stairs and cross the deck to the glass door. You shade your eyes and try to see through. You back up as you see Steve appear. He opens the doors from the other side and smiles down at you. 

“What’s up, sweetie?” He grins down at you, his eyes narrowing on the empty cup in your hand, “thirsty? Want some more?” 

“Um, no, thanks,” you hold out the cup. “I’m going to go home. To my mom’s house.” 

“Ah, sure,” he accepts the cup hesitantly, “you feeling tired?” 

You nod and hug yourself. He steps out and slides shut the door. He touches your shoulder, rubbing it firmly, and you take a step back. 

“How about I walk you around?” He offers. 

You shrug and turn back. You grab your book from the table as he follows. The empty cup clacks down on the table as he passes. He catches up with you at the bottom of the deck steps and he walks you up the side of the house, sure to reach over you to pull the gate open. He lets you through as you focus on your destination. 

“Hey, sweetie,” he calls after you, “just wanted to say, this is home, right?” He looks up at his house and you blanch. 

“Oh?” You frown. 

“We didn’t get to it but yeah, no point in having two houses between us. Just gotta pretty up that old place and put it on the market,” he explains, “it’ll help pay for your mom’s care.” 

“Uh, right,” you teethe the inside of your lower lip. 

“Better start packing,” he winks.  

“Mhmm,” you hum flatly. 

“Anyway, you go get some sleep but if you need anything, you know where to find me,” he says. 

“Sure,” you murmur and turn away. 

You slink around the fence and down the pavement. You turn up your mother’s walk and keep your head down. As you get to the porch, you look up and stare at the front door. Everything is changing and you’re terrified. 

🏠

You put your sketchbook on the dresser, too uneasy to open it again. You have all this energy that you can’t center. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re stuck in that strange limbo brewing with dread and impatience. You want the change to happen already just to be done with it. Just to know what awaits you. 

You change into pajamas and tuck into bed. You only lay there an hour before you give up. You just can’t sleep. It’s so strange to be there all alone. Even if you know your mom’s just next door. 

You get up and tramp out to the front room. You turn on the television and find an old movie playing on the public channel. You lay down beneath the old quilt pulled down from over the back of the couch and one of the deflated cushions that came with the furniture. 

You yawn but you’re still painfully awake. You focus on the screen, your eyes glazing over with the shifting colours, as the low drone tickles your ears. The night hazes on in the glare of the television. You’re kept at the threshold of sleep by your anxiety, drifting slightly only to wake again, head pulsing and eyes itchy. 

The house feels alive as you hear new noises. Or ones you never noticed before. The breeze has a tree brushing against the eaves and the crickets seems to be louder than usual. And the walls and floors are obscured as you can’t see past the glow of the TV. 

You force your eyes shut and try to will your mind to stop. It's too much. You lay paralysed, trapped between the urge to get up and go to your bed and the exhaustion that keeps you from moving.  

A low, creaking sound crawls over you. What is that? It’s just your imagination. You’re overthinking it. Maybe it’s the TV, you’ve lost track of the plot. You blink at the screen as you hear a click which doesn’t align with the scene playing out. Your heart lurches and your eyes widen. 

Is that the back door? You’re trapped in horror. You don’t know what to do. Someone is there. You can hear them coming down the hall, stopping just short of the front room. Another whisper of hinges. They’re in your room. Oh god! What do you do? 

The retreat and their footsteps close in on you. The figure fills the doorway and you stare at it, trying to pick it out of the fuzzy darkness. You sit up and whimper, “please, don’t hurt me.” 

The silhouette looms, unmoving and unspeaking. You can hear it breathing. You shudder and brace yourself. 

The light flicks on and stings your vision. You cower as Steve stands in the shine of the overhead bulb. You gasp and bring your hand to your chest, trying to calm your heart. His eyes gleam oddly a his jaw squares and you see him force the tension from it. 

“Sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles, “I was just coming to check in.” 

You blink and look around, “what time...” 

“I know it’s late, sorry. Your mom’s been up and down all night and I finally got her asleep. I wanted to make sure everything was okay over here...” he steps up and frames his hips, “you didn’t lock the doors.” 

You stare at him. You didn’t. You forgot. The realisation scares you all over again. 

“You okay?” 

You nod and gulp. You’re not. His eyes flick down then up. You pull the quilt up over your chest as you feel the cotton of your tee shirt grazing your hard nipples. The chill in your spine has yet to recede. 

“You don’t have to stay here,” he offers, “if it’s too much.” 

“I...” you watch him, trembling as his eyes keep that glimmer. They look dark, as if they’re dilated. You wet your lips with your tongue. “I’m okay, I’m just...” your gaze skitters over to the TV, “watching a movie.” 

He clucks and steps into the room, “oh, what are we watching?” 

You sit up complete and fold yourself into a ball in the corner of the couch. He nears and sits on the other end. You glance at him and force the lump from your throat. 

“Um, I didn’t get the title. It’s an older movie.” 

“Ah,” he lifts his arm over the back of the couch, “mind if I join? Can't sleep.” 

“Er, I guess...” you mutter. How can you say no? He's already sat down. 

“I don’t mind if you stretch out,” he says and pats his lap, “put your feet up, it won’t bother me.” 

You shake your head, “I’m fine.” 

“Mmm,” his eyes reflect the light of the screen as he stares ahead. He’s watching it but something about his expression, the stone in his cheeks and the lines in his forehead, suggests that he isn’t really taking it in. “Thought you’d be knocked out, kiddo. After a day like today.” 

You don’t know how to reply so you don’t. You turn your attention to the movie. The black-and-white images are softened at the edges despite the remastered edition. You lean your chin in your hand and try to follow the dialogue. 

“Not exactly how I imagined my wedding day, either,” he says as his fingers twiddle on the back of the couch. “Funny how life is full of surprises.” 

“Mhm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek nervously. 

“Or my weddings night,” he scoffs as he pinches the fabric along his thigh, sucking his teeth, “I suppose I’m not what you expected either?” 

“Huh?” You flinch and look at him, “what do you mean?” 

He inhales and lets it out slowly, “just... you know... it’s all happened so fast, didn’t it?” 

“Oh, right,” you turn to the screen again, “I... yeah.” 

“Don’t worry, sweetie, we can figure this out,” he coos, “as a family.” 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #au #silverfox au #captain america #avengers

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

reference post for book

Transcript below the cut:

SFX: Crickets chirping, the intermittent sound of cars driving by on the freeway, music and laughter in the distance.

SFX: Music and laughter drowning out the sounds of the night. Dawn [offscreen]: Atlas!

Dawn: What are you guys doing out here? Atlas: Just fucking around. What’s up?

Dawn: I finally got Aspen to sleep. Phoenix and I are getting ready to head home. Do you want to— Atlas: Oh yeah, yeah, let’s do it.

Lex: Alright, that’s my cue, I think. I better get to sleep anyway. I’ll see you in the morning, boys. Asher: Goodnight. Atlas: Night, Lex. Lex: G’night. And congratulations again, Dawn. Dawn: Thank you. I’ll see you soon.  

Phoenix: Are you ready? Dawn: Almost. We have something for you first.

Phoenix: What’s this? Dawn: Just open it.

[Phoenix unwraps the gift, revealing a children’s book. When he reads the title, Juju Goes to Jupiter, he is overcome with emotion and slowly sits down on the sofa.]

Phoenix: [running his hand over the cover, over his mom’s name printed along the bottom] Is this… Dawn: Yes. Phoenix: [looking up, tears shining in his eyes] How? Dawn: I typed it up after you told us the story. Asher and Iris did all the artwork. And then Atlas put it together and had it made into a book. Phoenix: I don’t know what to say. [slowly turns the pages, traces the lines of the illustrations with his fingertips and looks to Asher] You did this? Asher: [nods] Yeah. Me and Iris worked on it together.

Phoenix: It’s perfect. Thank you so much. Asher: You’re welcome. I was happy to, honestly, you’re like a brother to me, always listening and giving me advice. I’m just glad I could do something for you, y’know. Phoenix: [wiping his eyes] Where’s Iris? Asher: She’s already in bed. Phoenix: Will you thank her for me? Asher: Of course.

Phoenix: This is the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me. Atlas: It was all Dawn’s idea, but we were happy to help. I really appreciate everything you’ve done, for us and for my sister, there’s no one else I’d rather have as my brother-in-law. Phoenix: Me too.

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt3 #phoenix realta #dawn stephens #atlas stephens #asher goode #lex mcphee

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 8

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Following the council meeting and Norm's reassignment, the two of you are enjoying a quiet evening together when a single question threatens to dredge up a whirlwind of emotions.

Part 1 Here. Part 6 Here

Part 2 Here Part 7 Here

Part 3 Here Part 9 Here

Part 4 Here

Part 5 Here

Norm was convinced you thought he was a lunatic. 

 One minute, the two of you were relaxing on the sofa. Norm‘s head resting against your lap while you read. The occasional brush of your fingers through his hair threatens to lull him to sleep. The next, he found himself unable to stop ranting and raving, all because of a simple question. How did everything go today? The book you were reading was long since discarded to the side as you gave him your full attention. He went on detailing the events of his day, from his “reassignment” at the council meeting to his first interaction with the raiders locked in the vault reading room. You didn’t interrupt, though he wasn’t sure he could have stopped even if you had. His frustrations with the council and whatever happened in the Vaults were not subtle. Norm always appreciated the candor you two shared when it came to communication. Still, he couldn’t help feeling some unease divulging all of these feelings, unsure of how you’d respond. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, putting his hand on his forehead and moving to sit upright. “Seeing how we treated them today, with food and kindness, just sent me over the edge.” Nothing about this situation with the Raiders felt right to him. Four square meals a day and a soft bed weren’t exactly punishment; how was no one else seeing it? 

“Cause it feels like the opposite of justice…” you validated after listening to everything he had to say about his punishment from the council and the situation he experienced with the Raiders. 

“Yes,” his tone laced with utmost seriousness. “We watched people commit some of the most heinous acts we could imagine, and now we’re expected to be the bigger person and move on?” 

You felt the weight of the shared resentment settles between you, the reality of the situation pressing heavily on your shoulders. Memories of recent events resurfaced with a vengeance, emotions that had been buried away over the last few days trying to escape. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the feelings of pain and anger were already seeping out uncontrolled. 

“For god’s sake, I had to kill a man with a pipe wrench the other day, and the council just wants to…” you stopped short, your words hanging before you like a poison in the air. You had avoided saying it out loud since that night, hopeful it would help you forget having to come to terms with the actions you took. 

Norm’s eyes widened with surprise. You had implied what had happened after the two of you were separated down Vault 32’s corridor, but he never pressed you for details you weren’t ready to share. He figured you were still processing your actions from the night of the raid but taking another life to save your own- a decision forced on you because of someone else's actions. He knew this was your nightmare scenario. Of course, you both had been reeling this entire time; how had he not noticed until now? He copied your gesture from the days before, offering his hand and intertwining it with yours with a squeeze. You took another deep breath, your eyes locking with Norm’s, raw with shared pain and anger. 

“You shouldn’t have been there alone, and I’ll always hate that part of myself for that.” 

“Don’t, you know full well how rushing into that situation would have gone. We’re here now.” You leaned in, pressing your forehead against Norm’s, a gesture of solidarity and unspoken promise. “We’ll get through this, Norm. One step at a time, together.”

The two of you continued this way throughout the evening, seamlessly shifting between playful banter and serious discussions. There were moments of shared laughter and tears, with deep emotions surfacing. As the hours passed, you both gradually moved from the couch to sprawling across the living room floor. Norm ended up lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, while you found a comfortable spot on your stomach.

“Your turn,” Norm says, encouraging another round of the question game you’ve been playing.

“Hmmm, if you could go back to before and experience one thing, what would it be?”

“Come on,” Norm groans, “there’s no point in...”

“Oh, please. At least try to be a little fun,” you tease.

He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine.” He couldn’t help but give in to you. Norm ponders for a minute. “Maybe getting to experience an arcade or comic shop in their heyday, the way they’re portrayed in movies at least. Atomic Command on the Pip-Boy is only so entertaining; something new would be fun. Plus a day to do something I enjoy, with no obligations, maybe meet people who like the same things as me. What about you?”

“The national parks,” you answer immediately, without needing to think. “All of them, any one of them, wouldn’t matter. Even just sitting there to experience them with all my senses, that would be my day,” you say, conjuring up images from the picture books you read as a kid.” It’s heartbreaking seeing how we just squandered... never mind, we don’t need to end tonight on a sour note.”

Norm nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, well, at least we’ve got these moments now. I guess that counts for something.”

You smile, feeling a sense of connection. “Yeah, it really does.”  You stretch and move to stand while announcing, “It’s getting late; I should probably head out.”

“I’ll walk you you back.” 

“Such a gentleman,” you gush, heading out the door. Norm laughs. “I think that’s a sentiment only you and my mom would share.” 

“Well, your mom and I have excellent taste,” you reply with a wink. “Aside from your wit and charm, you’re an incredibly thoughtful and caring, Norm. One of the many reasons I enjoy spending time with you.”

He grins a hint of bashfulness in his eyes. “Thanks. You know, you’re pretty amazing yourself. You have this way of making even the simplest moments feel special.”

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. “That means a lot, Norm.” 

As you both reach the door of your living quarters, you turn to face Norm, a smile resting on your lips.

“Well, here we are,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” Norm replies, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “Can I... can I kiss you?”

Your heart flutters at his question. “I’d like that,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Norm steps closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, he gently cups your face with his hands and leans in. The world seems to slow down as his lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It's soft and sweet, filled with the promise of more shared moments.

As you pull back, you both smile, your foreheads resting against each other for the second time this evening. “That was nice,” you say, your voice filled with warmth.

“Yeah, it was,” Norm agrees, his eyes shining with happiness. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Norm,” you reply, feeling a contented glow as you watch him walk away. 

—------------------------

Norm is lost in thought, walking home with a faint smile on his face. He rounds the corner of the hallway leading back to his living quarters and nearly collides with Betty Pearson.

“Whoa, Norm! Didn’t see you there,” Betty exclaims, steadying herself.

“Sorry, Betty,” Norm replies, snapping back to reality. “I didn’t see you either.”

She raises an eyebrow and glances at her Pip-Boy. “It’s pretty late to be out for a walk, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I was just, uh, walking a friend home,” Norm says, trying to sound casual as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

Betty’s eyes narrow slightly, a knowing look crossing her face. “I’ve noticed you and (Y/N)  have been spending quite a bit of time together lately.”

Norm shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to reveal too much. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out. She’s good company.”

Betty smiles, but there’s a hint of something more in her expression. “That’s nice to hear. It’s important to find good company these days. Just remember, people are always watching. It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re with someone special.”

“Thanks, Betty. I’ll keep that in mind,” Norm replies, feeling a bit uneasy as he continues down the hallway, Betty’s words lingering in his mind.

#norm maclean #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean x reader #fallout tv series #fallout series

[callsign-rogueone]

you called - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader You're captured by gryphon fliers while out alone on patrol, but Brennan comes to your rescue. [request] words: 1.7k 🏷: no book spoilers, as this occurs years before Fourth Wing, soon after Bren graduated from Basgiath. gender neutral reader in an established romantic relationship with Brennan. brief / vague descriptions of interrogation, torture, and inhumane treatment of reader by fliers, but Bren mends you and takes care of you (lots of cuddles). your dragon is mated to Marbh. her name is Fuir, a shortened form of the word for "alive" since Marbh means "dead". you sleep in Bren's shirt but there's no description of how it fits on you. wrote this in an hour and didn't edit so be nice pls

It’s easy enough to find the cell block. You’re the only prisoner there, with just one guard posted outside that Brennan makes quick work of, taking the keys from his belt to unlock the door.

He kneels down by your side, comforted by the rise and fall of your chest -- he’d known that you were still alive, because he is, as are Fuir and Marbh, but the visual confirmation is soothing.

He wraps a hand around your wrist to block the pain, using the other to start mending your wounds. Whoever had been interrogating you must have had a very short temper; your temples are bloodied, a few of your ribs bruised or broken, several small cuts dotting the exposed skin of your arms -- they’d taken your flight jacket, as a trophy.

He burns with anger, but forces himself to focus on the good, the fact that you’re still alive in front of him, that he’d found you before it was too late.

You finally open those pretty eyes, struggling to focus your gaze on him, but you put it together quickly enough. “Bren,” you murmur, delirious, “you came.”

“You called,” he answers simply, still working on mending your wounds.

It takes you a moment to work through the thick fog of what is definitely a concussion, but you realize he must have heard your desperate cries for help down the bond and came to find you; your plan worked.

You’d wanted to give up hope after the first day, but accepting your death meant accepting Brennan’s as well, and you couldn’t let him die like that, so you persevered. You’d forced yourself to eat what meager portions of food they’d given you, to drink the foul-tasting water and sleep as much as you could, to keep yourself alive.

Whenever they left you alone, you’d tried to reach for Fuir, for Brennan and Marbh, for your magic, getting no responses. After two days, you realized that they must have put a power-dampener in that water, like the one the professors had dosed you with before RSC to disconnect you from your dragons. So you’d stopped drinking it, pouring it out instead to make it look like you had -- and that night, you’d finally felt that little red string connecting you to Fuir, and the shimmering orange one that leads you to Brennan and Marbh. 

You’d cried in relief, trying to reach out to them, but your words had quickly turned to screams of pain as the officer returned to try to get information out of you again. They must have figured out your scheme, because the beating was the worst that day -- they’d hardly ever left you alone, giving you less than an hour between rounds of questioning.

You close your eyes again, realizing that this is probably a dream, a hallucination brought on by days of isolation in this dark room with only enough food and water to keep you alive. You aren’t really aware of how long it’s been. There’s no sunlight down here, and they haven’t been feeding you on a regular schedule, so you couldn’t keep track by counting the meals, either.

“I thought Navarre didn’t bother with extractions,” you mumble. 

“They don’t. So I might be court-martialed when we get back, but I don’t care. I couldn’t leave you here.”

“M’sorry,” you murmur. “Shouldn’t have gone off on my own. Thank you for finding me.”

“Don’t apologize, love. And I’ll always find you,” he promises, stroking your hair. “We’re tied together, aren’t we?”

You manage a soft laugh that quickly turns into a cough, your throat dry and raw from the screaming and from days without much water.

He decides he’s mended you enough for now -- you should be able to move now without injuring yourself further, and you really need to get out of here. “Up you get,” he coaxes, hooking an arm around your waist and helping you up from the floor.

Someone is waiting for you in the hallway -- someone dressed in black. A rider.  “Nao?” you ask, blinking at him. You really must be hallucinating.

The older rider smiles at you. “Hi, kid. Good to see you in one piece.” He turns to Brennan. “There’s two guards at each exit. We can take them, but they’ll probably sound an alarm.”

The two men continue to strategize, and you try to follow along, but most of the words go in one ear and out the other. You settle for leaning against Brennan and trying to stay awake.

“Hello, sweet one,” Fuir says gently, and you nearly cry at the familiar voice back in your head after days of isolation.

“Hi,” you respond in a whisper.

Brennan and Naolin have agreed on a plan, and you follow them closely, staying by Brennan’s side as they lead you out of the compound. Naolin makes quick work of both of the guards, knocking them out easily, and you slip past the treeline into the forest.

It’s freezing outside, literally -- your boots make tracks through the half-inch of snow on the ground that continues to fall gently, tiny flakes drifting through the air and coating everything in a thin layer of white.

You rub your hands over your arms, trying to keep warm. Brennan drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and you burrow into it, happy to be wrapped in the warmth and softness of the fur-collared fabric and the comforting smell of your partner. 

You finally spot Fuir -- she looks a little worse for wear, too, cuddled up with Marbh, who is licking her wounds like an oversized cat. Cute.

“Can you still make it home?” you ask, concerned.

She sounds slightly offended. “Of course I can. It’s you I’m worried about.”

She lays down, making it easier for you to climb up her leg. As you settle into your seat, you can feel invisible bands of magic keeping you in place -- you breathe a sigh of relief that you won’t have to worry about keeping your seat as you pass over the mountain range. You have no idea how long of a flight it’s going to be, but you don’t think you could handle more than a few minutes in the saddle.

“Now would be an excellent time to leave!” Naolin shouts from his perch on the back of Tairn’s neck.

You turn your head, seeing three gryphons closing in from your right. Shit.

“We’ll be fine,” she soothes. “If we get high enough, they won’t be able to follow us.”

You shut your eyes tightly as the cold wind hits your cheeks, making your eyes water -- they’d taken your goggles too, and all your knives, everything except your base layer of clothing. She raises her head, blocking the worst of it, tightening up her formation with Tairn and Marbh, letting each of them protect you from one side.

“I think we lost them,” Brennan tells you through the bond, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

Fuir adjusts the invisible ties keeping you seated, guiding you forward to lean against the back of her neck. “Rest. It’s another hour to get home.”

You hum in reply, pulling Brennan’s cloak tighter around your shoulders and relaxing into her. She feels warmer than usual, likely because you’re freezing cold.

You wake to the feeling of the wind dying down, and her wings stilling as she lands.

She settles down into the snowy grass, letting you climb down slowly. 

Brennan is waiting on the ground to help you, gathering you into his arms. “Let’s get you to the infirmary,” he coaxes.

You shake your head no. “Want you to do it,” you say quietly. 

He caves easily, leading you to his room, keeping you tucked into his side with a strong arm around your waist. Nobody questions it or stops you on the way up, your bloodied appearance perfectly normal for a rider.

He settles you into his desk chair, starting to mend the smaller cuts and bruises that he hadn’t gotten to earlier. The warmth of his hands and the feeling of the aching pain subsiding relaxes you, your eyes falling shut.

“You think you can shower?” he asks gently.

You nod. You don’t want to get up, but you do feel absolutely disgusting after the last four days, and a shower is definitely in order. Two showers, probably. 

You follow him into the en-suite bathroom, going through the motions without thought -- washing the blood from your skin, scrubbing off the dirt and making an attempt at washing your hair. Brennan stands by your side, showering himself in near-silence, washing off the day. 

He wraps you in a warm towel, letting you rest against him for a moment. “You should eat something,” he says gently.

You burrow deeper into him in protest. “Later,” you murmur. You just want to sleep. It’s late, nearing lights-out anyway, and you need to rest up for the inevitable scolding you’re going to get tomorrow morning.

“Do you want one of your shirts, or mine?” he asks.

“Yours, please,” you answer quietly; his clothes are always more comfortable, more comforting to you, and you could use that extra layer of his presence right now. You finish drying yourself off, letting him slip one of his black tunics over your head and wiggling your arms into the sleeves.

He pulls the covers back, motioning for you to climb into bed with him. The softness of the mattress underneath you and the feel of warm, clean blankets against your skin after three days of sleeping on a dirty stone floor is overwhelming. You finally start to cry, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re safe, my love,” he soothes, holding you close. “You’re home, with me.”

“I know,” you whisper, trying to steady your breathing. “I know, I just…”

He shushes you softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that I love you, and that I will never let anything like that happen to you again.”

You nod against his shoulder. “Love you too,” you sniff. “Thank you for finding me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I will always find you.”

You relax into him, comforted by the warmth of his body against yours, the muscled arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne that lingers on the sheets. This is the safest place in the world, right here -- not Navarre, not the fortress, but this room, this bed, because Brennan is in it, holding you.

“Get some sleep,” he encourages. “I’ll be right here with you.”

You hum in reply, nuzzling your cheek into his chest and letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #mine

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

“Sorry I’m late.” Astarion x Evie please :)

A/N: This has just been idea floating around in my brain for a while. If y'all would want me to expand this to a full fic, let me know!

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Evie really had to stop letting Astarion talk them into messes like these. Sure, turning them in for the bounty only to break them out again was a good scam the first two or three times. Five, however, was reaching an upper limit and at some point those doing the imprisoning were going to get smart about it.

Making sure the bard was well gagged and hands chained to the wall was certainly a good start. They'd also upped the security around their cell and even gone so far at to put them to sleep before and after they had their daily rations. Credit where credit was due, the guards never made the same mistake twice. They could take a page from their book.

"Sorry I'm late, darling."

Evie's head whipped up to the once barred window to find a familiar rogue perched on the edge and looking very pleased with himself.

"You would not believe the trouble I went to just to find a Scroll of Fly. You'd think I was asking for a Solar’s bow. I hate to say it, but moments like these I miss the wizard."

Evie could only glare as Astarion tied a rope at the top of the window and slid down to their level, landing with only the barest scrap of boots on stone.

"Oh, don't be like that," he said, with a pout. "I did apologize for being late."

He untied their gag, allowing Evie to breath properly for the first time in two days.

"You didn't think to get a scroll before turning me in," they huffed.

"We didn't know the lay out of the prison then. Besides, improvising has always been more our style."

He shot them his most charming grin as he said it, forcing Evie to avert their gaze with an eyeroll. Damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well next time let’s try improvising you being captured. It seems only fair.”

“Fair, but not practical my love. I have yet to see you do this.” With a flourish, he turned the lock freeing Evie’s hands with a satisfying--

BOOM!

Evie and Astarion both jumped back at the sound, the lock falling to the ground with a clank. Just beyond the door yelling and the clanking of armor rose in a swell heading straight towards them.

Astarion was by their side the next moment, pulling Evie onto unsteady feet and towards the rope.

“I believe that’s our cue to leave immediately.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” they said, grabbing hold of the rope. “You do have a way to get down, don’t you?”

“Details, love, details.” 

send me a sentence + pairing and i’ll write the next five sentences

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x evie #spawnsong #baldurs gate 3 #asexual!tav #bard!tav

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Fake Marriage

@wolfstarmicrofic May 16, word count 812

This is part two of Prompt 4 - Marriage of Convinience. There will be a part three, probably for prompt 26 but I'll see. I'll link everything together when it happens.

Remus settled into his new life relatively quickly. It had taken him a few weeks to get used to sleeping in a bed again. It hadn’t helped that the mattress was super soft, and he felt like he was sleeping on a marshmallow. But as with most things, you adjust. 

The other thing he was still getting used to was having an allowance. Sirius hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it would be generous. Remus didn’t even know what to spend that amount of money on. The majority of his purchases came from the little bookshop a few streets over. The owner had always been kind to him. When he’d been homeless, sometimes he’d sneak in there just to smell the books. But now, he felt he could finally enjoy them again. 

Sirius chuckled at him when he came flying through the door with his new purchases. 

“Remus, I think we maybe need to get you a bookcase.” He’d tutted as he eyed the bulging bags. “Come over here, and we’ll find one you like.” Sirius patted the sofa seat next to him and opened his laptop. Remus quickly put the bags into his room and hung up his coat before going to sit next to Sirius. 

He’d been in the flat for a few months now and their friendship had started back up as though there hadn’t been an eight-year gap when they’d lost contact. 

Sirius shuffled closer and Remus felt those old butterflies spreading their wings. It was something he’d never told Sirius about and probably something he should have mentioned before agreeing to marry him. But he hadn’t felt anything while they’d been sorting out all the paperwork, it was only when they’d been in the registry office repeating their vows that Remus had realised his old feelings for Sirius were still there. He tried his best to keep everything platonic, but when Sirius was basically sitting in his lap, it was hard to ignore. 

“I like the look of these ones. What do you think?” Sirius asked, bringing Remus back down to earth. He hadn’t been paying the least bit of attention. He glanced over at the screen and looked at the bookcases Sirius was talking about. They looked really nice. Dark wood and sturdy. 

“It’s your flat, Sirius. Get whatever you like.” He mumbled, hoping that would be the end of it. 

“It’s your room.” Sirius patted his knee and Remus tensed. “If you don’t like them, then we won’t get them.” Remus shook his head. 

“No, they’re fine. I really like them.” He said as evenly as he could. Sirius grinned at him and started typing in the order details. Remus couldn’t help but follow his fingers and stare at the simple gold band adorning his ring finger on his left hand. He wondered if maybe one day it would be real for them. 

He watched Sirius pick up his phone and open one of the many dating apps he had and begin scrolling through it. He sighed, probably not. 

Sirius doom scrolled through the people who wanted to match with him and found no one he wanted to waste his energy on. If he was being honest with himself, the only person he wanted to take out was Remus. 

He’d been flabbergasted when Remus had told him about Jeremy from marketing. He’d had to grip the table to stop himself from launching himself at the thin man and proclaiming his everlasting love for him. But he’d stopped himself and tried to find a way to help his friend. 

He’d never in a million years thought that Remus would agree to marry him and had planned to just buy all the things for himself and rent them to Remus for pennies. But then he’d agreed with very little persuasion, his heart had soared. 

He’d nearly called the whole thing off in the middle of the ceremony, when he’d stared into Remus’s eyes as he placed the ring on his finger and his knees had nearly buckled. But he hadn’t, and now they were married and Remus carefully kept his distance. 

He sighed thinking about it. Remus had left for his room as soon as Sirius had turned his phone on. He wished he could find a way to tell him how he felt, but now that they were in this fake marriage, he didn’t know if Remus would see it as Sirius trapping him and not just an idiot in love that wanted to help. 

He raked his hands though his hair as he tried to figure it out. Maybe Remus would buy so many books he’d have to move into Sirius’s room because he wouldn’t be able to sleep in his own. Sirius shook his head at the absurdity and deleted all the dating apps on his phone. They were useless to him now anyway. 

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar angst #wolfstar au #part 2 #remus lupin #sirius black #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #mary macdonald #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #guys sort it out #remus will always have books #fake marriage

[plussizefantasia]

Trust Issues

Bucky x BlackCat!reader

Chapter 2/6 of the BlackCat!reader story that I had a request for!

<Prev

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, Bucky and Reader being kinda mean to each other.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.” It didn’t occur to you to ask the front desk woman if there would be two beds, after all, you and Bucky were supposed to be playing a couple this weekend and couples didn’t need two beds. “Well buck up, Buckaroo, looks like we're sharing for the weekend."

“I’m not sharing a bed with you, you kick in your sleep and snore like a buzzsaw.”

“You’re a filthy liar Barnes, I do not snore.”

“No comment on the kicking?” He raises an eyebrow at you. You just roll your eyes and push further into the room. 

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the ground. So you can either be a chivalrous manbaby and curl up in that tiny-ass armchair or be a grown-ass man and split the bed with me. Your choice.”

Bucky grumbles under his breath, in a language that you don’t speak but hearing it admittedly sends a shiver running down your spine. You don’t really have time to stay and talk him out of his funk. The two of you are only here for the three nights and the last night was the gala so any and all recon needs to be done before then. 

Of course, the team of low-ranking agents who just want to do their fucking part to save the world or some bs like that have already put together a file of information for you. You’ve been burned before though and like to take care of yourself more often than not.

So you inwardly thank Tony Stark for the nice digs and head to the bathroom to get changed into your suit. 

You want to scope out the event space tonight as well as the governor's office the only problem was that the two buildings were practically on opposite sides of the city and you’ll have to take pretty much the whole night in order to get what you need. 

That means despite the fact that you are ridiculously tired from being in the car all day you’ll have to dawn your fur-lined catsuit right away and book it to the State Capital building before the last of the over-caffeinated halfway to burnt-out political interns leave for the night and your usual slip-in-behind-someone-who-isn’t-paying-attention entrance will fall off the table.

You pretend that you don’t see Bucky’s eyes bulge when you walk out of the bathroom in your full get-up, but you feel flattered nevertheless. There’s something to be said about the way donning your suit makes you feel, when you have the mask on and the suit zipped all the way up you feel invincible, powerful, badass, and let’s not kid anyone, sexy as hell.

The way Bucky can’t keep his eyes off you as you move about the room gathering the things you’ll need for your night of recon makes you think that he’s on the same page as you about that last one. But that’s all it is, you remind yourself. You’ve got good assets and when they’re tightly wrapped in a nice little bow they look alright, Barnes doesn’t like you he’s a man… he likes tits and ass. They all do. 

“I’m heading downtown, need to scope out entrances and exits and see if there’s anything in the governor's office that could help us bring him down.”

“I’ll come with.” Bucky moves to grab the bulletproof leather jacket that Steve had gotten him for Christmas this past year.

“Thanks but no thanks Barnes, I’m perfectly capable of doing recon on my own. Besides, you’re not exactly what I would call… stealthy.”

“I’m stealthy as fuck kitty.”

“Don’t call me kitty, and whatever you need to tell yourself, old man. I'll be back. Treat yourself to room service or something, I heard brooding makes you hungry.”

“I don’t brood.”

“And I don’t snore. See, we can both lie.”

Your night is uneventful. The only thing catching your eye is how suspiciously squeaky clean the governor's computer is. You don’t find much that can help you in your mission. The ballroom is a bust too although you do manage to come up with several escape routes should things go sideways the night of the gala. You end up rolling back into the hotel room at around three-thirty in the morning. Not expecting Bucky to still be awake you try your best to make as little noise as possible so that you don’t wake him.

It ends up not being necessary as he is already awake, lounging in the armchair nursing a glass of whisky, and staring at the door you've just come through.

“Don’t tell me you waited up for me? That’s so sweet Barnes.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell Fury that his favorite pet got in some trouble.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Barnes, I am not Fury’s pet any more than you're Steve’s.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He scoffs and takes another sip of his drink.

“Well, you’re off the hook I guess I’m back safe and sound so you can finally go about getting some much-needed beauty sleep.”

“You really can’t take anything seriously, can you? I’ve been waiting here for hours because you left without letting me in on your little plan.” Bucky stands up and places his glass on the side table next to him. You have no idea where the hell this anger he has is coming from but you’ll be damned if you let him talk to you like this. “We’re supposed to be doing this mission together and the first moments you’re left to your own devices you run off and risk yourself unnecessarily.” He's getting heated and it's rubbing off on you.

“What the hell is your problem James?  I didn’t ask you to wait for me! You’ve been a bit of an ass all day and I’m really fucking tired of it. I’m here to do my fucking job, are you?” Hindsight is a bitch though and you realize after you say the words to him that poking the bear is probably not your best option at the moment, nevertheless, you’re a glutton for punishment so you dig in even more. “I mean first you get all moody in the car because of some shit you brought up in the first place, then you stay up waiting for me like you’re my dad or some shit making sure I get home safe. I know that you don’t like me, I get it and if I’m completely honest I don’t really like you either. No matter what you think or want though, we have a mission to complete and I’ll be damned if I let some metal-armed brute fuck up my perfect completion record.” You don’t really remember taking breaths but obviously, you have or you’d be passed out after that long ass speech. 

It doesn’t get you the reaction you want though, instead, Bucky just clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and lets out some long-suffering sigh like you’re the bane of his existence or some shit. You let him throw his grown-man tantrum and don’t move to stop him from huffing and puffing around the room until he goes to lie down on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you ask, every syllable dripping with exasperation.

“Sleeping, what does it look like?”

“Yeah, I can see that your trying to sleep like a caveman on the cold hard ground what I don’t understand is why, given the big ass bed right here.” You carelessly lift one hand and gesture towards the California King bed with admittedly really comfy-looking sheets spread across it. 

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you Kitty, I thought I had told you that.” He practically snarls.

“I thought you were kidding. What? Afraid you’ll get cooties or something?” 

“I’m not sharing a bed with you Y/N. Drop it.”

“Fine. You know what? Fucking be like that.” You grab a pillow off the bed and throw it down at him. Before grabbing one for yourself and taking up position on the floor a few feet away from him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Funny, I thought I just asked you that.” You reply laying down on the ground with your back towards him.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor Y/N it’ll mess up your back.” `“Well then I guess you have a choice to make. Either you get over yourself and we both get to share the nice bed, I’ll even put up a pillow wall to protect your dignity if you’re that worried about it.  Or we both sleep on the floor and I wake up tomorrow morning as grumpy as you because my back hurts.” You let the silence reign for a few seconds after you're done, still facing away from him and waiting for him to make the decision.

“God you’re so annoying you know that?” Bucky groans out as he moves to sit up and make his way towards the bed.

“I’ve been told it’s one of my best qualities.” You stick your tongue out at him and follow him to the bed. You follow through with your promise of a pillow wall placing three pillows length-wise between the two of you. Afterward, you turn around and turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. 

You wait for a few minutes thoughts racing endlessly in your mind. “Bucky?” You call out.

“What?” he mumbles back.

“Will you tell me a bedtime story?” You ask.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?

“Go the fuck to sleep.” You do.

_________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed, but an intact pillow wall so deem the night a success. Rolling over to check the bedside clock you see that it’s about seven and groan at the fact that Bucky’s absence apparently woke you up an hour before you had planned.

Bucky’s absence doesn’t last long, however, as minutes later he comes strolling into the room. He’s wearing a simple grey tee shirt and some black sweatpants but the entire front of his shirt is soaked making the grey a darker shade than it was originally. Similarly, his hair is dripping wet and you honestly can’t tell if he’s taken a shower yet or if he's just soaked with sweat. What confuses you more is that you don’t know which you’d prefer.

“Morning Sarge.” You call out from your place in bed. Bucky jumps a little like he forgot that you’d be in the room. 

“Morning.” He mumbled before making a swift turn and essentially hiding away in the ensuite bathroom. When you hear the shower turn on you know he's still in a mood from last night. You swear to whatever god there might be that this man is going to be the death of you. 

“I’m calling room service for breakfast do you want anything?” You shout at the bathroom door.

“Eggs and toast.” He calls back. You roll your eyes at his basic order but relent anyway and pick up the phone to call for the food. 

His shower finishes right about the same time that the food arrives. When he walks out of the bathroom in just a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one in his hand ruffling his hair to dry it you about choke on the food you hadn’t even started eating yet.

“Your foods over there.” You point to the little sitting area on the opposite side of the room from you. You're sitting crisscross across the ottoman at the foot of the bed. A plate of stuffed French toast with a side of sliced peaches perched on your lap.

“I figure that we should probably talk about the plan for the rest of the weekend, to avoid any more… angst between us.” You speak between bites of your breakfast.

“I thought we already had a plan but apparently that doesn’t mean much to you does it.” He turns his body to face you and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m not starting the morning off like this, James. You can either talk to me like an adult or you can sulk in the corner it’s your choice.” 

“I don’t sulk.”

“For a guy who doesn’t sulk or brood you sure spend a lot of time doing both.”

“I just- I don’t know why you always have to be putting yourself at risk.” You aren’t prepared for the tone shift of the conversation.

“I’m an adult Bucky, I can make those kinds of choices for myself.”

“I know you can, I just don’t see why you feel the need to.”

“What do you mean?” You can physically feel yourself start to get defensive. 

“I mean that for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always gone the extra mile, covered every base that needs to be covered and even some that don’t. You push yourself to the point of exhaustion and you don’t seem to care. You do the job of ten people when you don’t need to and it makes me tired just watching you.”

“I-”

“I wasn’t finished. Take last night for example. You went out and re-did recon that our team already did for us because you didn’t trust that they had done enough and what did you find? Nothing. Nothing that you didn’t already know from reading the mission file.”

“When did this become a fucking therapy session? I don’t recall giving you my insurance information Dr. Barnes and I’m not sure I can pay your hourly rate.” You try to deflect. He's right, you didn’t find anything new and you’d been a little pissed at yourself because of it, but you don’t need that shoved back into your face.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Push away your real feelings with jokes, Peter and Tony do the same thing and it drives me up the wall.” He stares at you.

“I don’t know what you want from me Bucky. I don’t know who you want me to be, you call me a kiss-ass when I try too hard, but you’ve been pretty clear on the fact that you don’t think I can be redeemed. You seem to care about me and yet give me shit about anything and everything that I do. I don’t know what to think or feel around you and it throws me off.”

“I do care about you.” 

You don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything. You and Bucky sit in silence for what could’ve been seconds minutes or hours. Neither one of you is willing to be the one who breaks the spell that has settled over the room. Both of you are saved by the bell when Bucky’s phone rings on the desk in front of him.

“It’s Steve, I’ll be right back.” He gets up and moves to take the call out in the hallway. You still don’t say anything. But you do flop onto your stomach across the bed the moment the door closes behind him. 

You grab the nearest pillow to your outstretched hand and bring it to your face, screaming into it and letting out as many muffled curse words as you can before you run out of air. When you’re done throwing your mini tantrum you stand up, run a hand through your hair, and take in the deepest breath you’ve ever taken in. 

It seems that Bucky’s call with Steve is going to go longer than you thought so you might as well get ready for the day. You put on the flowing wide-leg pants and halter tank that you packed, it gives just the right amount of classy that goes along with your cover in case you needed to interact with anyone, while still being easy to move in and pretty damn comfortable to boot.

You return to your perch at the foot of the bed, this time with the mission files in your hands. Despite how many times you’ve poured over them you still want to make sure that you’re ready for the gala tomorrow night. The best use of your time right now is trying to figure out the best way to get close to the Governor at the party.

Since his computer had been a bust the best way to get him was going to be a verbal confession to some of his backroom dealings. Maybe with more time, you’d be able to pull together a bit more of a sting operation and pull out all the stops trying to catch him but you were on a time crunch. The gala is tomorrow and then after that the governor starts his reelection campaign.

Bucky walks back into the room and throws his phone on the bed next to you, “Steve said the analysts back home got word that there’s a new player to be aware of tomorrow. The Governor's son is gonna be there, he's been flouncing across Europe for the better part of the last five years and we’re not exactly sure why he’s back but we know it’s important. Think you can handle it?”

“Did you actually just use the word ‘flounce’ in a sentence.”

“Can you handle it or not.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Barnes, I got this.”

“I don’t doubt it, Kitty, in the meantime though maybe we should do some asking around to see what we can get on the kid.”

“Honestly, James I’m a little hurt that you think I’m that far behind you. Besides, I know exactly where to look to get the answers I’ll need.”

“And where is that exactly?” Bucky looks at you and raises an eyebrow. 

“His Instagram.” Snapchat, Twitter, and any and all other social media you can get your hands on. You know rich kids better than any other group of people in the world, they’re incredibly naive most of the time and some of the easiest targets because they’re sharing their entire lives with the world. If there's something to know about this guy, you’ll find it on his socials. 

You and Bucky spend the rest of the day and well into the night, doing your research. At some point, you’d been given access to the full guest list which allowed you to add some names to your internet stalking session. By two in the morning, you can confidently say that you know this guy and several of the other guests who would be attending better than they knew themselves. 

“Alright doll, it’s time for sleep.” Bucky grabs your laptop and closes the lid before taking it off your lap completely and plugging it in for you.

“What? I was just getting in the groove! I found another rabbit hole.”

“I don't know what that means but I know that it’s late and we have to be on our best game tomorrow so sleep it is.”

“You can sleep, but I need to keep working,” Bucky calls your name.

“This is the type of stuff I’m talking about, working yourself to death. Trust in the work you did today, trust that you’ve got everything you need. I do.”

You will never admit to the way that your heart thumps when you realize just how much faith Bucky has in you. 

“I’ve made that mistake before, trusting myself and trusting others, it never goes well for me.”

“Well then, work yourself to death and be sloppy and tired tomorrow if you want, but do it over there with just a desk lamp because I’m going to bed.”

“Fine. I will.” Stubbornly, you pick up the notebooks and files that surround you and move them all to the too-small desk in the corner of the room. You flick the lamp light on and groan at the dimness of the bulb. Bucky’s words bounce around your skull, you wouldn’t be sloppy. You were never sloppy. Sloppy meant getting hurt or worse. You couldn’t be sloppy.

Fuck. You couldn’t be sloppy, especially with Bucky’s life on the line too. 

You growl low in your throat as you flick the lamp off and begin getting ready for bed, pretending not to hear the triumphant snort that comes from the lump on the bed.

“Scoot over, you fucking starfish, leave some room for me.” You shove at Bucky’s back, nothing happens of course but he takes pity on you and scooches over anyway. “Do I need to construct another pillow wall Your Highness or do you think you’ll be okay for one more night?”

“I think I’ll survive. But know that if you kick me in the middle of the night I reserve the right to shove your ass onto the floor.” 

“Noted.”

#plus size reader #fanfic #plus size!reader #fluff #x reader #drabble #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #requests open #requests wanted

[baited-beth]

Stayed up too late reading the running grave and now I can’t sleep

#this is why reading before bed doesn’t work for me #because I’m either reading something I don’t care about so won’t bother reading #or I don’t want to put the book down and then don’t sleep #the running grave #robert galbraith #jkr

[verahella]

your daughter comes to you, pigtails downturned like a sad dog’s ears. you put your book away, frowning as she climbs up the couch and into your lap. you run your hand through her hair as she lays her head down on your thighs, “what’s wrong, darling?”

“why is daddy so tall?” she pauses, “is he a giraffe?”

“no, actually he’s godzilla.”

“what’s a godzilla?”

“an animal that no zoo wants to have.”

she nods but the soft pout is still present on her lips. it reminds you of the grumpy pout sukuna has every morning when you escape from the cage of his arms.

“why? did daddy do something?”

she shakes her head, playing with the messily tied ribbons of the pigtails her father made, “no. it’s just…he’s so tall and his legs are so tall and he walks so fast and i can’t keep up.”

“who?” sukuna enters the room, a towel on his shoulder.

“godzilla.” your daughter replies.

he throws you a confused look and you shake your head as if to say ‘don’t worry about it.’

“well, dinner’s ready.” he says slowly, putting his hands on his hips.

“she wants to tell you something, don’t you, honey?” you give your daughter an encouraging look and she takes a deep breath, stumbling down from the couch and putting her hands on her hips, doing what her dad taught her when she wants to be a ‘big girl’.

“we need to talk, daddy.”

“talk then.”

sukuna realises the hesitation around her and crouches down to her level, softening his voice. “something wrong?”

“you walk too fast. an-and sometimes i can’t keep up. i don’t want you to leave me behind.” her voice grows small and she looks up at him with her lip wobbling.

“oh.” sukuna’s brows knit together, “uh, i’m sorry. i’ll walk slower next time.”

“or you could stick a leash on her hand and drag her around.” you mutter and sukuna seems like he’s actually considering the solution, “you’re influencing me too much. i need to stay away from you.”

“we sleep in the same bed.” sukuna deadpans.

“pervert.”

he rolls his eyes. “i promise i won’t leave you behind anymore.” he says to his daughter and she nods, smiling toothily as she leads him over to her tea party.

the next day, you come home to your husband and daughter surrounded in bubble wrap and cardboard, “what’s all this?”

your daughter excitedly waves you over, “daddy got me roller skates!”

sukuna only shrugs when you look over at him, “i took your advice. without the leash though.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #vera’s.jjk.library.✎ #a random drabble i came up with before sleep #so if it doesnt make any sense thats why

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged HCs

I started Love and Deepspace yesterday so please have my slightly unhinged HCs for the men so far. And minors don’t you dare interact

Part 2

Rafayel

He’s a biter. Leaves you covered in marks from your neck all the way down your thighs.

Plans a date where he’s laid out a huge canvas on the floor of his studio, puts your fave color paint on your hands and his favorite color on his hands, plus several globs of the two colors across the canvas, and then proceeds to have the wildest three rounds of sex on that canvas as it gets progressively more covered in paint. Sells the painting for 6 figures a few weeks later and uses it as an excuse that you need to make more of them.

Tells you his best masterpiece is painting your body with his cum—got really into it once and dipped the paint brush into your cunt to collect his cum and then painted it across your breasts

Has a secret sketch book that’s nothing but pictures of you. Lots of them are of you sleeping when he can study your features but there’s still quite a few he drew from memory.

Made you lay down naked with your legs spread and be still so he could draw the most detailed image of your pussy you could possibly imagine. It’s his personal fave that no one besides him will ever see.

Sees shibari as a beautiful art form and likes to practice with you—has a whole album in his phone just of pics of you tied up all pretty for him

Rarely gets soft in a serious way, he much prefers the teasing back and forth you two usually have.

Xavier

He’s definitely broken into your room Edward Cullen style and watched you sleep

His favorite dates are taking you into the forest at night to watch the stars and moon together. Bonus points if you come across a wanderer and get to fight together.

Clingy after you become his, always wants to be touching you and doesn’t let you out of his sight (and yes that means sometimes he’s following you but it’s just because you’re brave and reckless and he worries)

When he eats you out, he holds both your hands in his for you to hold on to and does it with no hands—makes you cum more times on his tongue than you could fathom (and yes, he’s eating you for his pleasure)

Downloaded a tracker into your watch so he can know where you are at all times

Gets horny when he watches you fight and has def pulled you aside during a mission for a quickie in which you end up having your cunt stuffed with cum for the remainder of the mission

Such a cuddler but like a cat where he only wants to cuddle if he wants to—falls asleep nearly instantly in your arms like the cute sleepyhead he is

Zayne

Finds it so cute the first time he comes to your apartment and sees all the little snow creatures he’d made you sitting in a windowsill together. Makes you so many more after that. Sends you a bouquet of flowers made from his ice too (#Elsa)

Has food delivered to you at lunch on days he knows you’re super busy so you don’t forget to eat since you often forget to take care of yourself (he doesn’t mind too much since he likes that you let him take care of you)

Prefers kisses over hugs, except when he’s sad because of a patient (then he likes the warm comfort of your hugs)

Moves his glasses to the top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose when he gets really stressed

Brings you a mild painkiller after blowing your back out, a smug but tiny smile on his lips, and tells you, “I was a bit rough so humor me and take this medicine. I don’t want you in excess pain because of me.”

Loves when you want to lay on his chest when he’s reading through cases and medical journals at night. He’ll read them out loud until you fall asleep and then finish them quietly as you snore softly into his chest

Calls you before a difficult surgery because your voice instantly calms him down

Into bondage—specifically he likes to tie you up so you can’t escape when he starts to overstimulate you. He really can’t help it, you just make such pretty noises for him when he gets you to that point that he has to keep going

Tags: @adaurielle @luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps

#love and deepspace #love and Deepspace HCs #zayne love and deepspace #Zayne HCs #zayne x reader #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel HCs #rafayel x reader #Xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

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

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[kissitbttr]

a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman

-

It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients

as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is

“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.

"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.

your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.

"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"

"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."

"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"

"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,

he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.

you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.

“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead

“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.

it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.

it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this

“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.

he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.

you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.

it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.

“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.

“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"

-

inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #marvel au #bucky barnes au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky fanfic

[atlabeth]

pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it. 

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.  

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments. 

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.” 

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?” 

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.” 

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.” 

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh. 

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.” 

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him. 

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?” 

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.” 

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.” 

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says. 

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?” 

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.” 

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something. 

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.” 

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep. 

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks. 

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.” 

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity. 

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses. 

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.” 

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him. 

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly. 

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.” 

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?” 

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus. 

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel. 

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent. 

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses. 

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.  

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?” 

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?” 

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.” 

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.” 

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this. 

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.” 

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.” 

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks. 

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?” 

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves. 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.” 

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.” 

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.” 

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.” 

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.” 

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.” 

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.” 

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.” 

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?” 

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.” 

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today. 

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?” 

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.” 

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.” 

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?” 

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” 

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here. 

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.” 

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here. 

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head. 

“You don’t need to pay me back.” 

“Really?” 

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.” 

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning. 

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says. 

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!” 

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.” 

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.” 

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.” 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

[rebeccccccaaa]

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

_______________

It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 

“Then why are you calling?” 

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 

“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him. 

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 

“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 

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